Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Can't Fight the Moonlight
Chapter 7: The Heart of the Matter
Previously on Can't Fight the Moonlight
Alex peeks his head in the window, so Addison and Callie can't see him. He couldn't help himself; he just had to check to see how Addison is doing. And she's laughing and singing. He almost decides to join them but then he takes one more glance at the grown women dancing around in Addison's bed and decides to leave them be.
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Derek stands in front of Alex, partially blocking Alex's view of Addison. He tilts his head, painfully watching the most confident woman he knows lose control. It makes his heart ache, not in love, but in sympathy and regret. He thinks, I should have- should have…so many things. Really, this is my fault. She shouldn't be unhappy because I wouldn't give her the time of day. She deserves better.
An old, true friend of ours was talking on the phone, she said you found someone.
And I thought of all the bad luck and the struggles we went through
and how I lost me and you lost you.
The next day, Derek arrives at the hospital extra early. He finds Addison sleeping alone in her room. She changed into scrubs and is now curling up in her blanket. Derek frowns. Did Alex go home and leave her here? He enters the room, concerned. Addison's eyes flutter open at the sound of the door shutting. She rubs her eyes and Derek asks "Where's Alex?"
Addison sits up and peers around the room. "He was just here a minute ago. He spent the night here." She pats down on her pillow and a note flies out from under it. Derek picks it up off of the floor and reads, "Addie. I went to go get some decent breakfast for you, instead of the crappy hospital food. Smiley-face."
Addison eyes him curiously. Derek explains "He drew one." and continues "I'll be back soon. I love you, Alex." Addison smiles and Derek fakes a grin. He will never get used to another man loving her, even if it is Alex. Though he isn't in love with her anymore, he still feels a tiny spark of jealousy.
Addison scoots over and Derek sits bed, close to her. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay. Hungry." Addison takes a sip of the water on her bedside table. As she does, the scars on her arm are revealed to Derek once again. He becomes pained when he sees them, looking away immediately. She notices his distress and makes quick work of hiding her arm under the blankets. She feels the need to apologize, but she knows he'll scold her for doing so.
His eyes make their way back up to her face and he finds the courage in him to ask, "Is it me? Is it my fault?"
Addison shakes her head and looks down. "No. Of course not." I haven't talked about it before. I can't talk about it, not with him. He can't understand unless he knows. "Don't think that. It's not. You haven't done anything."
Derek rests his hand on her knee. "But that's why. I don't do anything. I need to do more."
Addison closes her eyes. I didn't mean it like that. "Derek, we're not married anymore. You shouldn't feel obligated to-"
"It's not just you." Derek interrupts. "I mean, it is you, but look at you. And Meredith. You're both beautiful women with excellent careers and a healthy life to look forward too. Why would you both do something to hurt yourself? Look at the common factor. Me. It's me. I'm toxic. Every woman that I'm close to, that I love..." wants to kill herself, Derek finishes in his head.
Addison understands Derek's train of thought. It's perfectly logical. But he can't look at this logically. The action of hurting herself has layers, as did Meredith's. Other things that he can't see, that he doesn't know must be taken into consideration. "Meredith was depressed about her mother, Derek. And there's other things going on with me. Trust me, it's not your fault."
"But Addison," Derek says, almost to the point of tears. "I remember what happened. I didn't, before. But now I remember. I ignored you and the supply closet and the locker." He repeats quietly, "and the locker. I remember what happened in New York."
New York Presbyterian Hospital. February 6, 2005.
Addison fears she might be losing her mind.
She can't recognize her husband, or herself, for that matter. She hasn't slept in four days. Her husband refuses to come home and she can't sleep without him, much less stay in the large, lonely brownstone that she "shares" with him.
She misses him so much.
And work is giving her hell. If she loses one more child, she's sure to give up.
Addison needs a break so she finds herself in a familiar place: a supply closet.
Throughout her life, Addison has always turned to closets when she needed some time to think. Closets offer a safe, dark refuge where Addison can escape life and hide from everyone, including herself. Even as a child, Addison hid in the closet attached to her room when her mother's verbal abuse and her father's indifference became too much for her to handle. So, it shouldn't be a surprise that now as an adult, Addison goes to the supply closet to find peace and quiet.
Addison sits down on a box and tears begin to spill down her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something shiny. In another box on the floor, there are dozens of packages of sterile scalpels. The light reflects off of them and Addison feels complied to pick up a package. She peels off the wrapper, discarding it somewhere on the floor. She holds the scalpel in her hand, marveling at the beautiful silver.
She feels her adrenaline pump, just like in the O.R. She's in control of everything now. She needs to cut something, to feel the rush, so she presses the scalpel to her pale wrist.
It sinks down immediately. Addison can feel the sharp pain that somehow feels pleasurable as red blood surrounds the scalpel. All the red, it's too much and she can't stop it.
The door opens and she drops the scalpel on the floor. Now, a stinging pain arises from her wrists. She gasps at the same time as the nurse does.
The nurse appears concerned. "Oh."
Addison just stares at the nurse, but her mind is racing. Why did I do this? She must think I'm crazy.
The nurse pulls on Addison's good wrist and leads her into a private room. She sits Addison down on the bed and glances at Addison's nametag on her white coat. " Addison Shepherd. Derek Shepherd's wife, I presume." Addison doesn't affirm this statement, but the nurse continues, "Are you going to be alright for a second?"
Addison nods and the nurse goes to page Derek, who is in surgery at the moment. While waiting, Addison wraps her right hand's fingers around her left wrist, covering the wound. She holds on tightly, trying to stop the throbbing with pressure.
The nurse comes back after several minutes. "Dr. Shepherd- your husband- is not answering the pages I sent him. His pager must be out of batteries. I'm going to try to call him, okay?"
Addison shakes her head, knowing Derek will be angry about getting pulled out of surgery, but the nurse doesn't see her.
Addison leans forward on the bed, trying to eavesdrop on the nurse's conversation with Derek. She only caught bits and pieces. "Dr. Shepherd? You might want to check the batteries on…pager is just fine? Oh…is important….She needs you!...send her to psych?...surgery?...she can't wait….now!"
The nurse returns with bandages, appearing angry. Addison lifts her bloodied hand and the nurse's eyes soften. She wraps the gauze around Addison's wrist several times and says, "Look, no need for stitches. Aren't you lucky? People come in here with much worse." Then, she looks at Addison's sad eyes. "I'm sorry about your husband, but please, you have to talk to us. The worst thing you can do is not talk about it, okay?"
Addison speaks in a croaked voice. "I don't have anything to say." Please. Let's just forget about it.
The nurse tilts her head. "You must have something you want to tell us." Addison shakes her head.
Suddenly, a very angry Derek rounds the corner. " Addison, WHAT are you doing? Pulling me out of surgery? Are you crazy? Do you know how important this surgery was to me? The peak of my career! You need me for what? A scrape on your wrist?" He gestures to the bandages.
The nurse cuts him off. "You can stop right there, doctor. She's very fragile right now and-"
"Don't you dare tell me how to treat my wife!" Derek shouts.
Addison winces. I've got to get out of here. I'm embarrassed and he's making everything worse.
The nurse and Derek begin a heated dispute. In fifteen minutes, they've gotten nowhere, just repeating the same arguments over and over. The chief of surgery finally steps between them. "What's going on here?"
Derek straightens up. "Well, sir, this NURSE just pulled me out of an important surgery because Addison scraped her arm somehow and I just don't think that is acceptable. A man's LIFE is at stake."
The nurse laughs. "You are the resident on this case, doctor. The man WILL survive without you there to hold the clamp." She turns to the chief. "I found his wife in a supply closet…" she whispers "doing harm to herself and I thought that she could use some support. But this man," she waves to Derek "only gives her the opposite."
The chief stops her there. "And just where is Addison?"
The nurse points to the chair, which is now empty. "She was just there a minute ago."
Derek scoffs. "Great, now we've lost her. We've got to find her before she does anymore 'harm to herself' or whatever you call the brush of skin cells."
The nurse gets ready to lash into another argument, but the chief interrupts. He glares at Derek. "Find Addison NOW, Shepherd, or you'll have me to answer to."
Derek nods for appearances, but as he walks away, he thinks about what a pain-in-the-ass Addison has been lately. Can't she function without him for once?
Seattle Grace Hospital, one day ago.
Mark and Izzie practically fall into an on-call room while kissing. Mark presses her up against the door, locking it at the same time. After they've been kissing for a while, Mark begins to feel tears on his cheeks and sighs. "Izz, I can't do this when you're upset." He pulls away from her and switches on the light. "What's wrong?"
Izzie pushes him away and sits on the bed. She folds her arms and looks him straight in the eye. "Tell me what happened to Addison."
Remembering Derek's speech, he mumbles something about personal business and Izzie gives him a stare that makes him stutter out, "She was raped, okay? Don't tell anyone."
Izzie stands up and starts hitting him with a pillow from the on-call room bed.
"Hey! HEY!" Mark grabs the pillow from her. "What? I told you!"
Her eyes bug out at him and she tries to move the pillow, but he has a firm hold on it. "You should be with her!! What are you doing here?"
He explains to her as if she was a little kid. "I'm TRYING to be a supportive boyfriend."
She punches the pillow that he's still holding. "You're not my boyfriend!! Not really, anyway. And she NEEDS you! Go, now!!"
Before Mark can take any more of her abuse he slips out the door and whispers throught the crack of the door. "I'm doing this for you." She kisses him on the lips before pulling the door shut.
Mark smirks to himself, but then realizes that he doesn't know where Addison's room is. I'll call Derek, he thinks. But just as he opens his phone, a familiar number appears on his caller id and his phone vibrates in his hand. He swallows, he hasn't heard from her in years. "Hello?" He pauses and listens to the other line, then gasps.
"You're in Seattle?!"
Continuing...New York Presbyterian Hospital, Februrary 6, 2005
While Derek and the nurse were arguing, Addison had found her way to the attending's locker room. She has tears pouring down her eyes. Derek just doesn't care at all anymore. What happened to him?
She walks into the bathroom and stands in front of the row of sinks. She has her pick of seven sinks and chooses the exact center sink. There are three sinks to her right and three sinks to her left. It makes perfect sense.
She washes her hands, and then flushes the water on her face. She gazes at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks are red from the hot tears. The cool water extinguishes the fire on her face.
Addison leaves the water running and peels off the bandage on her wrist. The icy water pours over the cut and renews the stinging pain. Addison winces and watches the dried blood wash off of her skin. Without all the red, the cut looks smaller and less threatening.
Addison's mind is exhausted from all of this new activity; she has no energy left. Her throat closes from all of her sobs and she struggles to breathe.
Addison has trouble holding her body up straight. She doubles over and her head falls into her hands on the sink. Her flaming hair contrasts with the pale white of the sink, making it appear even redder. She stares at it for a second, in awe of the spectrum of colors of her hair. Shades of auburn, deep red, strawberry blonde. Against the white, they all appear and it's something she's never noticed before.
She feels the cold, hard tile surrounding her head. Yet, inside her is a burning fire of emotions.
She suddenly realizes that she's extremely uncomfortable. She stands and walks to the bench by her locker. Her shoes are killing her feet. She unwraps the Dolce and Gabbana's carefully and runs her fingers over the red indents created in her pale skin. The soft touch soothes the pain.
She swings her legs around the bench and opens her locker. Her shoes fit perfectly into the bottom.
Addison needs to determine her next course of action. Someone might have noticed that she was gone by now. Maybe. Or maybe they were still too busy arguing over her.
If I could have just kept my emotions to myself.
She misses Derek. But he will be so angry with her. And she had probably killed a man by taking Derek off of the surgery. She knew he was very talented; it's why he spents most of his time here at the hospital. He enjoys it, more than he enjoys spending time with her. And she took surgery, his favorite thing, away from him. He will yell at her and then probably not look at her for days. Maybe even weeks this time.
Sex is a forgotten pastime. Addison can't even remember what it's like to be held in Derek's arms. Or any man's arms. But she can't hold on to Derek, he won't let her. It's probably for the best. I just take everything from him. Why did he ever marry me in the first place? I'm such a disappointment!! She slams the locker and accidently shuts her hand in with it.
The door bounces back and she can feel the pain again. She remembers, but this is different. This pain rings in her bones and then slowly disappears. Disappointment. She slams it on her hand again. Ah. She becomes very angry with herself and crashes the door to her hand again. And again. And again. And again.
Until Derek opens the door. " Addison!! Are you CRAZY? Stop all the racket!! You're just going to call even more attention to yourself!"
Addison pulls her hand out from inside the locker and quietly shuts it. She can't bring herself to look at him.
Derek challenges her again. "I mean, can you get anymore selfish, ADDISON?!" He mocks her, saying her name with a certain twang that irritates her to the bone.
She just wants to crawl into a hole and fall asleep. She closes her eyes, hoping that maybe she'll wake up from this nightmare. She can hear Derek breathing heavily beside her for a few minutes, and then she opens her eyes again. She feels numb and her face remains expressionless. "I'm sorry, Derek. Let's go home."
Derek sighs. "Fine. Let's go."
They change out of their scrubs. Addison surprises Derek by joining him in his car. Derek stares at her and then starts the engine. Why is she here? Her car is parked only a few rows over and she's perfectly capable of driving. He shrugs it off. I can't deal with this now. I have work to do.
They sit in silence for the whole ride back to the brownstone. Addison slips into a nightgown and climbs in the bed. Derek spends the night in his office, reviewing paperwork. As Addison lies in bed, she realizes it for the first time. Our marriage is over.
She hears a small beep! on her dresser and then a rumble of vibrations. It's her cell phone signaling a text message. She picks it up and reads "Hey. Are u okay? Mark"
She smiles, flipping the phone between her hand. She rolls over, placing the phone back on her dresser. And finally, Addison reaches to turn off the light. Within minutes, she falls asleep without her husband.
I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter
but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter
but I think it's about forgiveness, forgiveness, even if, even if you don't love me anymore.
Present time, Seattle Grace Hosptial
"Derek," Addison says calmly, "we've talked about this. I've already forgiven you for everything and you've forgiven me. We've moved past it."
He turns his head to look at her. "We did talk about it and I thought you were okay. You said that you weren't ever going to do it again." He pauses. "It was my fault then and now. I'm thinking of breaking up with Meredith." He looks back down at the floor, trying to escape by staring into space.
Addison brings her legs up to her chest and rests her head on her bended knees. "You can't do that," she whispers. Is he trying to make me feel guilty?
Her voice brings Derek's back to reality. He glances quickly at her and then does a double-take. I didn't mean to get her so upset. He turns his whole body and scoots closer to her. "Hey." She looks away and a tear falls from her eye. He brushes it away and tilts his head. "No, Addie. It's not you. It's me. I don't want to hurt Meredith."
"But you're not hurting her!" Addison protests, "She loves you and you're not doing anything wrong. Did you ever think about the reason that we're still alive? Why did Meredith come back to consciousness? Why didn't I just take a bottle of pills? Why are we still alive? Look at the common thread, Derek. It's you."
Thrown off by his own argument being turned on him, Derek remains speechless. His eyes trail down the blanket, resting his gaze on the hem. Addison continues, "And if we keep blaming ourselves, we'll just be going around in circles. We'll accomplish nothing."
That is a very good point, Derek thinks. "Okay," he mutters quietly. "I won't break up with Meredith."
"Okay." Addison lays back down in bed and stares at the ceiling. Order is restored.
Derek gets up off the bed and straightens out his white coat. He stands over Addison, blocking her view of the ceiling.
"What?" she asks.
Derek smiles. "Thank you. I really needed that." He reaches for her hand and leans over to move closer to her. "Can you make me a new promise?"
Addison nods weakly. Let me guess, he wants me to stop cutting again.
Derek can sense her nervousness and he reassures her, "I'm not asking you to quit cold. I just want you to try to fix this thing. And that means seeing a therapist."
Addison wrinkles her nose in disapproval. I won't be able to talk about it. He had better not expect anything out of me. But he's caring, like I asked him to, so I have to do this.
Derek straightens up and laughs. "It's going to be worth your while. We should have done this a long time ago. And, I just decided that I'm going to have Meredith see one too. And maybe me too. We all could use some psychological help."
Addison agrees and the door to her room clicks open again. It's Alex, juggling an assortment of bagels and doughnuts and two coffees. Derek rushes over to him and helps him bring the food over to Addison's table. Alex kisses her on the head. "Sorry. I tried to get back before you woke. How did you sleep?"
"Okay," Addison says as she reaches for a bagel. "Derek woke me up." She mock glares at him and he pretends to be offended. "And then we talked about how it's not his fault that I'm so messed up." She smirks and dips her finger into the cream cheese and licks it.
Alex kicks off his shoes and Addison sits up and scoots forward, allowing him to sit behind her with her body between his legs. She rests back onto his chest and takes a bit of her bagel. Alex kisses her cheek. "You're not messed up. You're perfect."
The mood turns serious again as Derek says, "I know it's your personal business, but are you ever going to tell us why...you harm yourself?"
Addison freezes for a moment. I should really tell them. They deserve to know.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a loud, shrill voice. "Addison!! Addison!!!!"
Addison's eyes roll back into her head and she forces herself under the blanket, telling Alex to "Hide me."
Alex wraps his arms protectively around her, confused. Derek watches the door and within seconds it's thrown open. A tall woman with strawberry blonde hair struts in, followed by Mark, an older man, and a teenage boy. The woman seems to be the dominating force, marching up to Addison bed and peering down at him. She sizes Alex up and Alex does the same. What Alex notices most is her clothes. Alex can't tell if they are designer, but he knows that the garments have to be worth more than his.
Finally she speaks. "You must be the new boyfriend." She glances down, disapproving of their position, as Addison is still hidden under the blanket. "You're rather young. Are you rich?"
Alex shakes his head and turns to look at Derek, who mouths, "Addison's mother." Alex looks around the room. The old man has already settled himself in a chair, cracking open a laptop and scattered papers everywhere. The boy sits by his father, quietly, staring at the floor.
This must be her family, Alex thinks. He turns back to the mother, who has begun to poke the lump on the bed that Addison's body has formed, trying to get her to come out. Addison shoves the blankets down and looks at Alex with teary eyes. He brings her close to him and whispers, "I understand."
Addison's mother begins to poke her again. "Addison! Introduce me to your new friend."
Addison glares at her. "Mom, this is Alex." She makes a vague gesture to Alex. "Alex, this is my mom." She really wants to say "I'm sorry that you ever had to see her face," but she bites her tongue.
Addison's mother gives Alex her perfectly manicured hand. "Hello, Alex. I'm Elise Montgomery."
Song is Don Henley.
Hmm. I'm a little too tired to write an author's note. I'll save it for next time.