Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy.

A/N: Okay, I kind of deserved it for taking so long to post, but the amount of reviews has, over the last two chapters, gone down from thirteen to two. On the last chapter I got two reviews so far. Now, I'm not going to complain, because really I kind of did deserve that (and plus, I hated that chapter), but if you don't review on this one I'm going to get seriously worried. This chapter has a lot of plot development, and I'm happy with the way it came out—the first time I wrote it, it came out a lot more porny, and less realistic. Addison has (I think) one more sad chapter to go, and then her life is going to start getting back on track, and she'll be happy again because, really, sad Addison is necessary, but happy Addison is so fun to write. One of my favorite chapters was "We All Cope In Different Ways" because I thought the idea of Addison coping by helping everybody was really amusing. By the way, I love the idea of drowning me Meredith-style and then miraculously bringing me back to life…that was an ingenious idea. Please review!

Marital Amnesia

Addison's heart sank when she saw him from her window, and she hated herself for what she was about to do. In the past few months since the New Year, they had been happy, but it just hadn't felt right. She had tried to deny it, tried to pretend that they were perfect for each other but to no avail. It was long past time she stop pretending, before she hurt either one of them worse.

Steven walked up to her door, and rang the doorbell. For the last time asking herself if she wanted to do this, Addison opened the door, and Steven entered, a huge smile on his face. "Hello," he said, before drawing her into a hug. After a moment she pulled away and Steven, thinking nothing of it, continued, "I was thinking that we could have a picnic dinner somewhere along the water."

"Steven…" Addison began. Noting the look on Addison's voice, Steven cut her off.

"If you don't want to have a picnic, we can go to a restaurant, or we can just stay here and watch a movie. I really don't care—I just thought that since it was such a nice evening, we might want to do something outside. But if you don't want to—" he said gently.

Addison looked at the ground. "It's not that. A picnic would be lovely, it's just that…" Addison's voice trailed off. She wasn't used to doing this sort of thing. Her last boyfriend was Derek, and he was the one who had broken her, not the other way around. Steven was a good person, a better person than Derek, perhaps. He didn't deserve to be dating a woman who was in love with another man, and he didn't deserve to not know how much baggage she had. He deserved somebody who could really love him, something Addison knew she would never be able to give Steven.

Steven knew where this was going, and his eyes fell. "Addison, you don't have to do this," he told her.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, her voice brimming with emotion. "You're a really good person, and you don't deserve to have me. You deserve somebody who will make you happy, and will be devoted to you, and who'll love you, and I just can't do that. It's not that I don't want to, I really, really wish that you were the right person, but…I can't do this!" Addison exclaimed.

They lapsed into silence, before Steven reached over and squeezed her hand. "It's okay. I understand." Addison looked up at his face, and saw his eyes full of unshed tears, as were hers.

"I'm so sorry," she said, and hugged him for one last time. After they broke the embrace, Steven turned around, opened the door, and left. From her window, Addison watched Steven get into his car and drive away. Once she could no longer see him, Addison walked into the living room and sat down in her favorite chair. Though she wasn't cold, Addison pulled picked up a blanket from the back of the chair and draped it over herself, clinging to it since she had nothing else to cling to.

Tears fell from her eyes, as she silently cried, glad that nobody was here to see her.

Derek watched Meredith pace around the kitchen table, clearly agitated. "Are you okay?" Derek asked her, and she just nodded without looking at him. "Meredith, you need to talk to me if you're not okay."

"Don't bother yourself," Meredith said bitterly. "I'll be fine. Just…go find Addison," she spit. Over the past few months he had become friends with Addison, and Meredith, though she hadn't been thrilled, hadn't minded nearly as much as he had expected. She was a good person, Meredith, and Derek hated to think that by becoming friends with Addison he had caused them to grow apart. Furthermore, though he didn't understand why, he knew that Addison would be furious if she knew that she was the cause of their relationship troubles.

He walked over to Meredith, grabbed her shoulders, and gently turned her around. "Mer, please!"

Meredith pulled away from him and took several steps backward. "If you paid any attention whatsoever, you'd know what was wrong with me. You'd know that I haven't been okay all week. But where were you? Talking to your ex-wife at lunch, inviting her to dinner, fighting with her…really, she seems to be all you think about and talk about these days!"

"Meredith, calm down!" Derek exclaimed, as Meredith was now yelling. "Calm down, and tell me what's wrong with you? I want to help, but you're not making it very easy."

"What's wrong with me?" Meredith half screamed. "What was wrong with me at the beginning of this week was that exactly a year ago Dylan died. What's wrong with me now is that you've been ignoring me! You spend all of your free time with Addison. Okay, that's a lie, but you clearly think about her a lot and…and then you look at her, and I can't help but see that when you look at her, it's like you understand her, like you know what she's thinking, what she's going to say even before she says it. And you know what, Derek? You're not only hurting me, but you're going to hurt her."

"Meredith, I'm over Addison. There's nothing going on between us, nothing whatsoever. Our marriage is long gone, so far gone that I've forgotten about it entirely. I'm all yours now, Meredith." Derek wasn't sure why he was feeling the need to justify that he was being faithful to Meredith. He still hadn't been able to decide what to do, who to choose—Meredith or Addison. Meredith was sweet and loyal and perfect, but Addison he loved, even when she hurt him, even when he hated her.

"If what you just said is true, then you have marital amnesia, Derek," Meredith muttered.

Derek put his hand on Meredith's shoulder, and she didn't pull away. "You're right," Derek whispered, "I can't forget my marriage, because it still means something to me. She was my best friend and my wife, for more than a third of my life, and I can't just pretend that it never happened. Furthermore, I can't pretend that I don't like Addison, because she's a good person. But, Meredith, I've been friends…well, sort-of friends, anyhow…with Addison for months now, and you haven't minded before."

"You know what you said last night, Derek?" Meredith looked Derek in the eyes, and clenched her fists so that she would not hurt him. When Derek shook his head, Meredith spoke softly. "Right before you fell asleep, you said, 'Goodnight. I love you, Addison.' You said Addison, not Meredith."

"Oh God," Derek ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Meredith, I'm so sorry—I had no idea…it was a mistake, a horrible mistake, and…I'm sorry, Meredith, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make it good it better, Derek. Just leave, and don't come back until…until…" Meredith sobbed, tears streaming down her face. To have at last achieved her dream of being with Derek, and to have him still not ready to commit, it hurt. "Just don't come back until…until you can make it up to me."

Derek nodded, dumbstruck, and walked toward the door. Opening it, he turned around and looked at where Meredith was standing, her face now clean of tears, though he was still crying silently. "This thing we have, Meredith?" he questioned, and she nodded. "I think it might be over." Part of Derek wanted him to look back and see what Meredith's reaction was, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, couldn't bring himself to see another woman that he had broken.

Without looking back, Derek got into the car, and drove to Joe's. He hadn't really been at the trailer much since he started dating Meredith, and, besides, he needed a drink. Upon entering Joe's, Derek spotted a familiar red head sitting at the bar. Derek sat down next to Addison, who glanced up at him sorrowfully. Though she was impeccably dressed, her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked her, and she nodded.

"I broke up with Steven," she said without looking up from her hands, her voice emotionless. "He's a really good person, but it just wasn't right. I thought I was doing the right thing, you know? I think that I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be all alone." Addison tore her eyes away from her hands, where she had been staring at the tan line she had from wearing wedding rings for so long, and looked at Derek. "You okay?" she asked.

He shook his head and pushed a strand of hair off his face. "I think I just broke up with Meredith. Or maybe she broke up with me…I'm not sure. The point is that I think we're no longer together." Addison stared at Derek in shock, but when she spoke it was without judgment.

"You think, Derek?" she questioned.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I'm not sure if I want it to be over, or not." Addison put her hand on top of Derek's, and they sat in silence for a moment, both lost in thought. What would cause Derek, Addison wondered, to break up with Meredith? He had spent their whole last year of marriage with him pining over Meredith, and he had settled into life with Meredith so easily that, had Addison not been determined to want the best for Derek, she would have been hurt. What could have happened to change all of this?

"Before you ask," Derek said suddenly, startling Addison, "Before you ask, I'll tell you why we broke up. But you have to promise not to judge me or get mad and throw things." They both were recalled of one memorable experience when they had been living in Derek's trailer that Addison, fed up with Derek not paying any attention to her, had picked up the hairdryer she had been about to use and thrown it at Derek. To the horror of both people, the hairdryer had actually hit Derek. Both, too stunned to do anything but laugh, had quickly made up, but the memory was forever seared in Derek's mind.

"I won't judge," Addison whispered. "I never do."

Derek rolled his eyes, but continued anyhow. "I said your name. Last night, when we were in bed together, right before I fell asleep, I said your name. I remember thinking about you, but I can't remember saying anything, though apparently I said 'I love you, Addison.'" Addison stared at Derek. Whatever she had been expecting to hear, this had not been it. She was flooded with many emotions—anger, happiness, terror, and most importantly, confusion.

"Derek…"

"I told you not to judge!" he reprimanded lightly, and leaned towards Addison. She knew what was going to happen, and she didn't fight it as he gently kissed her lips, his hands running through her hair. Later Addison would wonder if the reason she didn't protest was because she had just broken up with Steven and simply wanted to not be alone, or because she wanted Derek so badly she couldn't control herself. She wasn't sure which option was more terrifying, but she supposed that it didn't really matter what the reason was.

When somebody—neither was sure who—had pulled away, they sat in awkward silence for a moment. "Derek, do you want it to be over with Meredith?" Addison asked quietly. "She's a good person, and she loves you, she's sweet, she's kind, she's loyal, she'd never hurt you the way I did…"

"Addison, shut up!" Derek couldn't take it any longer, having his ex-wife promote his girlfriend to him, as if it were some sort of advertisement. Addison flinched but didn't look away, her eyes betraying her calm appearance. Overcome with anger, more at himself than at Addison, and confused by his feelings towards both Addison and Meredith, Derek continued, taking it out on Addison. "I don't know what to do, okay? This is a big decision, and unlike you, my decisions aren't as simple as 'should I screw my husband's best friend?'" Derek's voice was level, which ironically made it harder for Addison to bear.

Picking up the shot glass in front of her, Addison thought about downing the whole thing before putting it back down, still full. The last thing she needed right now was to be drunk. "Our marriage was over long before I slept with Mark," Addison said truthfully.

"No, Addison, it wasn't. When you slept with Mark, my whole world shattered right there. Everything was fine, and then suddenly it wasn't. Suddenly my wife went from my best friend to an adulteress whore, and my best friend went from practically my brother to the enemy. You don't get to avoid responsibility, not any longer."

Addison knew that if she wanted to avoid a fight, she should just pick up her bag and leave right now. However, she couldn't put up with this anymore. Even recently, when Derek had been trying to be civil to Mark, even when he invited Addison over to dinner (ironically at Meredith's), she knew he didn't forgive her, didn't understand. It was a look in his eyes, of silent betrayal, and it was the way me made a point of hugging Meredith as much as possible when in Addison's presence. It was almost a need to justify that his behavior with Meredith was somehow purer, more genuine, less destructive than anything he had ever done with her.

"Our marriage was over before I slept with Mark," Addison repeated. "Everything was not fine. God, Derek, do you have any idea what the last two years were like? You were always absent! We'd given up—we didn't even fight anymore, and we were champions at that. You didn't show up on our anniversaries, you didn't even go to your sister's wedding! You know who went to Janice's wedding? I did, and when everybody asked why you weren't there, I made excuses, tried to make it seem as if you had tried to walk over water to get there, but it wasn't possible. Sure, you're the best, but there are at least two other people in Manhattan who could have done the job.

"You know who showed up to comfort me when you didn't make our anniversary dinners? You know who drove me home from Janice's wedding and helped me make excuses to your family? Mark. Yes, I made a mistake, I lit the fire, I was ultimately the cause, but we both were at fault."

"There's a big difference between missing a wedding and having sex with my best friend," Derek said skeptically and unsympathetically, but his voice wasn't as angry as it was before. Addison couldn't be positive, but she thought that something she had just said might have resonated with him.

"Yes, there is, and I realize that!" Addison exclaimed, in no way pacified by Derek's calm indifference. "You walked away, Derek. I told you that we wouldn't make it through this if you left, but you did anyway. I understand that, to some extent. What I don't understand is how, when I came to Seattle, you refused to try."

Derek picked Addison's hand up off the bar where it was resting, and cradled it in his. "It's not like you had any trouble just going back to Mark the second we divorced, and you didn't have to give up anything when you came to Seattle to try to make our marriage work. I had to give up Meredith, and all you had to give up was the brownstone." Addison's face fell, and she was no longer angry, just sad, as if remembering a painful event. Derek wished that he could retract his last statement, but it was impossible, just as all of their mistakes had been.

"Derek, you have no idea what the hell you're talking about," Addison whispered, and for a second it wasn't clear if Addison was going to say more. After a pause, she opened her mouth to continue, and Derek wasn't sure that he wanted to hear what she had to say. "I aborted Mark's baby." There, she had said it; the last of her secrets was out in the open.

Addison looked tearfully at Derek, who sat rigid, stunned. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and suddenly she found herself embracing Derek, her ex-husband, the man it was most inappropriate to hug. "Addie," he whispered, his voice choked. Out of the corner of her eye, Addison saw Joe very carefully avoiding the part of the bar where they sat, though from the expression on his face it was clear that he had heard every word. Addison wasn't terribly worried—Joe was a good secret-keeper.

When they were done crying, Addison tried to pull away, but Derek stopped her and planted a kiss on her lips. "Derek, this is highly inappropriate," she muttered, but neither of them really cared.

"Do you want to see how I've refurnished the trailer?" Derek asked, trying to be suggestive.

Addison laughed so hard that there were tears in her eyes. "Seriously, Derek, that's perhaps the worst pick-up line that I've ever heard. And, trust me, I've heard a lot. Besides, I hate the trailer. It's cramped, and there's no proper bathroom or bedroom, and if the level of effort you put into keeping the trailer clean while I was around is any indication of it's current condition, I'm scared." She knew she was being weak by not telling Derek to stop, by encouraging him, but she wanted it so badly. She weighted the consequences of her behavior and, though they were much heavier if she continued the way she was now, she decided to go ahead anyway. She was lonely, she wanted company, and Derek, at least momentarily while he was confused about his relationship with Meredith, wanted her.

"It is not the worst pick-up line," Derek said, mock-offended. "Don't you remember at that medical conference three years ago when Sophie Harriot's husband, Ron, got drunk? After about a half bottle of rum he decided that it would be a brilliant idea to hit on you. So, after attempting to feel you up, he asked if you wanted to go to the public restroom with him and his wife and take part in a threesome, because you looked like you would be much better than his wife, and he wanted the thrill of doing it in a public place."

Blushing at the memory, because dealing with that situation had been highly embarrassing, and her friends still teased her about it, Addison asked Joe (who had tentatively returned to their side of the bar a few minutes ago) for the check. Joe nodded and told her the amount, glancing nervously between Addison and Derek. He was no idiot and, as a bartender, he had seen more than his share of drunk inappropriate couples do things that they would seriously regret later.

"Addison, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her, worried. With Steven she had healed so much, and bore little to no resemblance to the broken, hurt woman he had first known. He liked the change, and hated to think that she'd jeopardize all of that for one night with Derek.

"Do what?" she questioned innocently, a smile on her face. Joe looked at her seriously, and she became more serious. "Joe, I'm an adult. I can take care of myself. I appreciate that you're worried, but I'm really okay. I'm just going home, and perhaps Derek will drive me since he has his car. There's nothing…nothing more."

Joe raised his eyebrows, but not in a mean-spirited manner. "Just look out for yourself. I know how you feel about Derek, and I know how he feels about you," Addison looked at him questioningly, but he refused to say more on the issue, "and I know that this could do more damage than it repairs. Not that I don't appreciate the extra income, but it's really not that appealing to see some of the top doctors in Seattle drowning their sorrows night after night. That's why I hardly ever drink."

Addison looked at him questioningly. "You're a bartender," she said skeptically. "You don't drink?"

"Hardly ever," Joe admitted, "It's one of my best kept secrets. After seeing so many people get drunk and do stupid things, it really loses most of its appeal. That's the thing I like least about my job—watching the people who are 'drowning their sorrows', or have decided to get drunk for whatever reason. Happy drunks, sad drunks, contemplative drunks," Joe shot a glance at Addison, "they're all drunk."

"Well, I'm not drunk," Addison informed Joe, and he nodded in agreement.

"Just…think about it before you do anything stupid, Addison." Joe turned around to give Addison time to think. Had he been watching, he would have seen the glare, would have seen the stubborn defiance, and would have seen that she hadn't been convinced yet, that she didn't know exactly what she was doing. Had he not turned away out of courtesy, perhaps he could have stopped some of the pain that would come—but then again, perhaps he would have stopped some of the good things that came of it too.

She paid the tab quickly and, within minutes, she walked out of the bar, her ex-husband trailing behind. "Can you drive me home?" Addison asked. She had taken a taxi to Joe's since she had planned on drinking herself into oblivion before thinking better of it and settling on one shot of tequila, which she had nursed for two or so hours until Derek had showed up.

"Where's you car?" Derek questioned.

"Home—I had planned on drinking a lot."

"Me too." Derek sighed, opened the car door, and he and Addison got in.

Addison looked at Derek's crestfallen face, and decided that what she had thought of doing was positively cruel. "Look, Derek, it doesn't have to be over between you and Meredith, not if you don't want it to be. You made a mistake, but that doesn't mean that it's not fixable. Some wounds are fixable, and others aren't. You won't know which one this is until you try." That was it, Addison realized. Derek had assumed that, after she had slept with Mark, they couldn't fix what they had lost, and by assuming that, he had made it true. When she had seen the way Derek looked at Meredith, she had assumed that they couldn't fix what they had lost. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Derek recognized it too. "That was the reason, wasn't it?" he mused. "There were other causes, but that was the big one—we simply gave up." Addison nodded in agreement, and they drove in silence for some time.

The car stopped, and Addison looked out the window. "Derek, this isn't my house," she said uncertainly. "This is your trailer."

They both got out of the car, though Derek didn't answer Addison's question. They walked inside together, holding hands, and sat down on the bed, since there was no other place to sit. Addison had complained about that when they had been married, but Derek always insisted that if they wanted to sit, they could sit outside. "I'll call a car, it's okay," Addison said, trying to be adult about this. She really didn't want to do something that she'd regret later, but she knew that if she were to stay in the trailer for too long, it was inevitable.

"Don't do that." Addison looked at Derek so that she could tell if he was being serious and, to her horror, amazement, and relief, he was. Derek leaned over across the bed and pulled Addison toward him. He kissed her, at first gently, and then more passionately. Though Addison at first resisted, she couldn't for long, and within minutes she was undressed. She knew that perhaps what hadn't thought through what she was doing, but right now all she wanted was to be with Derek, and at that moment the consequences seemed worth it. They both knew it was going to be a long night.