My Never
Chapter 26
Derek ~ Seattle Grace ~ present
"That one! And that one, and that one, and that one!" Devony's excitement was hard to suppress, and as he carried her, giggling wildly, on his shoulders, he wondered how Addison had ever been able to take her shopping.
While Addison had her weekly scans and x-rays, which she insisted he did not need to be present for, although he'd offered, she'd persuaded him to take Devony to the mall. Addison thought their three year old daughter had had enough of the hospital and deserved to get out. When Derek asked where she wanted to go, she had a melodramatic fit about Tuck's new Build-A-Bear and decided she wanted one too. She now clutched the fuzzy pink teddy along with Pluffie, the giraffe, making them dance on the top of his head.
"Daddy! That one! Mommy will like that one!" Devony practically shouted, drawing the stares of curious strangers as they walked through the mall.
"Dev, I don't think Mommy needs a giant talking panda," Derek chuckled. He had wanted to get something nice for Addison since her ordeal but found, between taking care of her, Devony, and doing his normal amount of surgeries, that he hadn't had time.
"Yes she does, Daddy," Devony said, hitting Pluffie's fuzzy head in his face.
"How about a pretty necklace instead," he countered cautiously. Devony was nearly as stubborn as Addison could be, or, actually, had been. Addison's personality was being regained in leaps and bounds, her natural sparkle shining through a bit more everyday as she struggled with her demons. But there were some aspects that it would take longer than a month and a half to get back.
Devony considered this, and shrugged. "We could get her a butterfly necklace."
"Maybe," he said cautiously. "Or maybe we could get her one like that." He pointed to a graceful silver necklace in a display, with tiny diamonds inset in small flowers along the chain. It was very pretty … and very expensive.
"I guess so," Devony agreed with a sigh, as though his fashion sense was sadly lacking. But he supposed to her, in her white halter dress with its stylish floral pattern, it was. He caught the little girl studying the necklace as it was packaged, however, and decided to make a return trip for her fourth birthday, which was coming up.
Within half an hour they arrived back at the hospital, Derek having been forced to overpay the taxi driver whose ear Devony had talked off. He dropped Devony off at the hospital daycare, she hadn't been there in days and was anxious to see Tuck and show off her new toy. "Bye, Daddy," she waved as he left. "Tuck, look what Daddy got me! He used his magical card that you can buy anything with!"
Derek smiled, shaking his head, marveling at how fast she was growing up. It didn't help that she was prodigious and so old for three years old, but he supposed all fathers felt their daughters were slipping through their fingers. She was just as impossible to hold as the ocean waves or silvery moonlight.
He headed for Addison's room, feeling that old familiar smile come to his face, but he was intercepted by Richard. "What? What is it?" he asked as soon as he saw the expression on Richard's face.
"They caught them. Addison's kidnappers," Richard said when Derek looked confused. "Well, most of them, at least. They were in Venezuela, hiding out on some drug farm."
"Does … does that mean there's going to be a trial?" Derek choked, thrown by this latest development. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms almost enough to draw blood. Finally, finally the bastards that had tortured Addison would have comeuppance … but not even a lifetime in jail could take away what they had done.
Richard laid a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Eventually, there will be," he said. "But they're trying to find the rest of the victims, or their bodies first. Addie and Casey are the only survivors so far, but there could be others out there. I'd guess it will be at least a few months before court proceedings can actually start. There's something else as well," Richard said hesitantly, avoiding Derek's gaze. "I planned a hospital charity event a few months ago, and, well, it's too late to cancel now …"
"And I suppose my attendance is required?" Derek asked sourly.
"Well … I did hint that the country's top neurosurgeon would be there. But that's not really why I'm telling you. I thought you should give Addison a heads up," Richard said. Derek was aware that a line had formed behind him, Richard was a busy man, but he felt overloaded with information and no reply came to his lips … He finally just nodded, and Richard turned away to address the next problem …
Derek ran a hand through his hair, gathering himself before he visited Addison, wondering how she would take the news. She would be relieved, surely, that her kidnappers had been caught but also wary of the trial that certainly loomed in the coming future. As for the hospital function, well, she would probably just want to escape notice in any way possible.
Bailey was in her room when he entered, talking to her in a gentle voice he rarely heard from the lips of the woman christened 'the Nazi.' He hurried to her side, wondering what was up, when Addison said, "Derek."
"Right here," he said cheerfully, before realizing that she had not been calling him but rather responding to a question of Bailey's. Her answer made the other woman's brows fly up into her hair.
"What's going on?" he sought to clarify, confused by their dialogue.
Bailey turned to him hesitantly. "We were thinking that Addison might want to take a shower, now that she's healed enough from her surgeries. The thing is, if she falls on that pelvis again and tears her iliac artery, she could die. I asked her who she wanted to help her, I could certainly do it if she wanted, but she … she wants you."
Derek's eyes snapped to Addison. He was shocked. Yes, she trusted him, he had been her white knight since her helicopter landed over a month ago, but for her to want him to help her shower, to be the only one to see her completely exposed since this whole thing started …
She blushed and looked down when he tried to catch her eye, twisting her blankets through tortured hands. Even from across the room, he could detect her anxiety, the slight shaking of her body, the way her shoulders slouched, hiding as much of her body from the outside world as possible.
"Addie, are you sure that's what you want?" he asked. "I'm sure Callie or Izzie would help if you wanted, not to mention Bailey …" he trailed off when she shook her head vehemently, eyes wide in terror.
"No, Derek. You're the only one who's seen me at my very worst, you've helped me shower when I was sick, you saw Evelyn being born, you know about the bruises from … from what happened when I was younger. So can't you … please, Derek?" she didn't lift her head to look at him but instead focused on her bruised arms, which she wrapped around her body tightly, like she was trying to hold herself together.
"Sure, Adds, of course I will, as long as you're sure …" Derek tried not to pause, not to think of the implications of this nor how this would play out. Bailey was eyeing him doubtfully, surely remembering all the times he had abandoned Addison in the past, but she left to get a wheelchair.
When she returned, he pushed the wheelchair to Addison's bedside. She stared at it for a few seconds before turning her beseeching eyes on him. She hated being helpless and needing assistance; it was difficult for her to ask, so she was doing it the only way she could. Rarely had she left the room since arriving here and regaining consciousness, and despite the fact that she was perfectly secure, he was sure it couldn't be a pleasant experience.
He had built back up to his former strength after finding out about his condition, but he suspected he could have lifted Addison at his weakest. He swallowed when he realized those pokey things he could feel through her hospital gown were her bones. She reached frail arms out toward him, like a baby bird, and he hefted her weight easily, setting her in the wheelchair. Several cords trailed along with her, the machines she was connected to faded into the background when he saw them everyday.
Derek noticed beads of blood on her lip as they exited; she was biting it so hard it had to be painful. Her eyes, always changing between sea green and brilliant blue, did not look straight ahead but instead swept the halls. But there were so many patients, so much blood, so much trauma, that Addison's injuries did not really stand out and few gazes lingered longer than a second.
He took her to the attending's locker room, which was too nice to really be called a locker room, and wheeled her toward the back where the showers were. To his relief, they encountered no one; everyone was busy saving lives and raking in cash by the hour.
He locked the door just in case, and then stood in front of Addison, anxiety curdling in his stomach. She made no movement, just looked at him expectantly, like he was supposed to know what to do. Finally he stalked over to the nearest cubicle and turned the water on. While it warmed, he located a stool for Addison to sit on and placed it under the rapidly heating water. Before long, steam poured out and sweat coated his entire body.
She looked so helpless, just sitting there in the wheelchair, and he sighed. "Come on," he said gently. She didn't seem capable of undressing herself nor wrapping her casted leg in the plastic supplied by Bailey, so he pushed her wheelchair as near to the shower as he could get it and set to work undoing the ties of her hospital gown himself. Addison didn't protest, but when he had the last one undone, her arms flew up to hold the gown to her gaunt form. He knelt to wrap her blue cast in the plastic, and when he stood, Addison was in the same position as ever.
"Addie?" he asked. He could hear her teeth chattering, in fear rather than cold, he hoped, because the bathroom felt like a sauna. "I understand that this is scary, but I think you'll feel better after you do it."
Addison bent her head, ashamed, but slowly lowered her arms to let the hospital gown flutter down. She looked like pictures he had seen of starving children in undeveloped countries, every bone visible through their tight wraps of skin. She kept her arms crossed over her chest, but he could still see white bandages along her body. Her painful embarrassment was palpable, wringing his heart and making his body sting with sympathy.
A single tear fell down to dot her lip.
"Addison, you're beautiful," he said, taking her face in his hands. "Never doubt that."
"I'm not, Derek," she whimpered. "I'm not and I wish I was and it's so unfair. How can they take so much and not even care?"
"You're always beautiful to me," he said. "And I don't know why or how this happened to us. But it brought you back to me. It seems impossible that anything good could come of it, but we don't know what the future holds. You just have to take baby steps."
"Baby steps," she repeated doubtfully, staring down at her mangled body.
"Baby steps," he agreed, pulling the hospital gown down over her legs and lifting her. Water splattered his scrubs as he set her gently in the under the spray. She tensed at first and then relaxed, her shoulders slumping.
Derek stood outside indecisively. It was clear that Addison could not shower by herself, but how would she feel with his obviously masculine presence around her battered, naked body? Surely she wasn't comfortable with that? But what alternative was there?
After a brief internal debate, Derek stripped to his boxers and t-shirt and kicked off his sneakers. Then he pulled the curtain aside and stepped cautiously in. Addison looked up, a wild, panicked look in her eyes, but it disappeared as soon as his face registered.
There were no words needed, only thoughts and gestures conveyed through the silky steam separating them. First Derek squirted body wash onto a washrag, filling the shower with a vibrant coconut smell, and touched her back softly so as not to alarm her. Then he proceeded to scrub her back and shoulders gently but firmly, sensing that she wanted to be rid of the filth of what had been done to her. She washed the front of her body, still self-conscious, while he combed her tangled hair and massaged her scalp with shampoo. He debated about following up with conditioner, but when she sighed and leaned against him, he sensed that she'd had enough.
"It still feels like they're on me," she whispered in a sorrowful voice as he turned the water off. "Do you think they'll ever be gone?"
"Yes," he said, and although it was simply a replacement for the truth; that he had no idea, she accepted his hope-saturated declaration.
~ Addison ~
Red. The poppies Derek planted were blood red, cherry red, the red of color drenched sunsets. The color of her hair. Addison doubted he'd ever planted a thing before in his life, but there he stood, the day after her shower, pouring dirt in a small, rectangular pot in her new hospital room.
The glass walls, the dying people, the desperate families were gone, and it was a relief to be out of the ICU. Machines still beeped around her, monitoring every aspect of her progress, but she was no longer under direct scrutiny, the hardest part, physically, of her recovery was behind her.
They were just green shoots in the deep brown soil, just tiny, fragile beings struggling to exist in a harsh world, sort of like her. But Derek watered them, just like he bestowed his love on her, and she felt sure they would grow, sprout, take hold, just like she could grow out of the horror that didn't want to let her go.
Derek sat beside her when he was done, smelling like moist earth, and together they admired his handiwork. "I've been thinking," he said after a while.
"Hmm?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I was thinking that maybe it's time for you to – talk to someone," he said, clearly dreading a volatile reaction. "You've made amazing progress, but I'm afraid there's only so much I can do to help you."
"I don't know if I can," she admitted. "What if I can't talk about it to anyone but you?"
"Just think about it," he said, kissing her forehead gently. Suddenly he shifted, digging a hand into the pocket of his scrubs. "I have something for you," he said, holding out a small grey box, and opening it to reveal a diamond necklace.
This, this was the Derek she loved. Not because he bought her things, but because he did it with the loving, crooked smile that she loved, and because he'd taken the care to pick out something he knew she'd like.
After four years, she thought she had forgotten how to be with Derek, but she hadn't. They were built around each other, like they'd been designed to be together, and that was a difficult thing to deny or forget. They left themselves in ruins, strung the pain of Addison and Derek across the country, but in the end, she would always love Derek and he would always love her.
The necklace hung beside the chain with her wedding rings, and Derek left and returned with two salads, and they ate and discussed his latest surgery. It was the way she could read him, the tiny gestures, the way she handed him the remainder of her dressing that proved it: They were simply meant to be.
Sooo ... I just wanted to check in and make sure that everyone is still interested in this story. I know the plot has been a bit slow lately but this is the slowest part of Addison's recovery. So stick with me ... Addie and Derek will pull through :D
