A/N: not very long, I know, but hopefully the next chapter will also be up tonight. Please review!


After their initial conversation, Mark and Addison said little to one another for the rest of the day. Addison had stormed off into the bathroom and locked herself in for a while. Mark could hear her crying, and wanted more than anything to hold her and console her, but if she wanted space, then he would let her have her space. He sat on the other side of the door, waiting for her to come out.

The bathroom door jolted Mark's back at around one thirty in the morning, waking him up.

"Ads?"

"Mark? What are you doing over here? Why didn't you..leave or got to sleep or something? That can't be comfortable."

"Addison, I told you I wasn't leaving." She sighed.

"Yeah but I thought-- never mind. Just go to sleep. You must be exhausted." He nodded reluctantly,

"Yeah, I guess I am." When he didn't leave, she realized that he probably didn't have a room and hadn't fully thought his trip through, and didn't have anywhere to stay.

"Fine, you can sleep in this bed with me, but I swear to God if you touch me, you die." Mark nodded silently, peeling off his clothing until all he was wearing were boxers. Addison had to force herself to look away, and Mark smiled inwardly. He climbed in to the bed gently beside her, hugging the edge of the bed to stay as far away from her as possible and still stay on the bed. He didn't dare to move from his position until her breathing evened out and he was positive that she was asleep. He sat up gently and just watched her sleep, entranced by her beauty. More than that, though, he was amazed by how much she had changed over the past several weeks. Even in her sleep, she was not at peace. Her body was still tense, and her forehead was creased. her slight wrinkles seemed more prominent-- it seemed as if she had aged drastically almost overnight. Mark had known that she was unhappy, but he hadn't known how much she had been hurting.

Mark reached out to cradle her face gently, tracing the delicate lines at the corners of her eyes, beating himself up mentally for not having noticed her pain. He had only made things more difficult for her, and that was certainly was not his intention. He desperately wanted to make things right.

When the morning came, Mark was fairly certain that he hadn't gotten any sleep at all. He grunted and got up off of the bed, walking over to the tiny two cup coffee maker, examining the coffee that was provided disapprovingly. He went out in search of more acceptable coffee, which ended up being just a few blocks from the hotel. When he returned, coffee in hand, he found Addison, awake, sitting on the bed and staring at the wall. She didn't seem to have noticed his presence, so he cleared his throat, which caused her to jump.

"Addison, are you okay?" he asked, brow furrowing slightly. She nodded and accepted the coffee that he handed to her gratefully. As she took the cup, their fingers brushed. Just that slight contact sent sparks shooting through his body. He sat on the edge of the bed right beside her, looking her in the eye. It was then that he noticed that they were bloodshot and her face was tearstained. "Addison…"

"I can't do it." He looked at her uncertainly, and was vaguely concerned that she really wanted him gone.

"What?" Her face became flushed and her shoulders tensed suddenly. "Addison. Addison listen to me. Breathe. Breathe for me, okay?" Her breathing was labored and she was clutching her stomach, her body doubled over in pain, trembling and sweating. She whimpered, and Mark lifted her gently and slid himself further onto the bed, placing her between his legs, her feet on the ground and gently pressing her head down between her knees. "Breathe." Addison attempted to breathe more regularly, which caused her to start coughing, which paired with her nausea and tenseness caused her to vomit. Vomiting on the floor upset her further, causing her to start crying, making it even more difficult for her to breathe.

Mark lifted her carefully, taking her into the bathroom where he turned on the faucet as cold as it would go, wetting a washcloth. He massaged her back as he carried her, trying to get her to calm down and set her down on the floor. He put the cold cloth on her face, then began rubbing her back. She calmed after a few minutes, completely exhausted. She allowed herself to fall back against his chest.

He pulled her into his arms, her body practically limp in his arms. He set her on the other side of the bed and called down to the front desk to get someone to clean up her vomit from the other side. When he came back over to the bed, she was fast asleep.