"Come back, I still need you / Let me take your hand, I'll make it right /
I swear to love you all my life / Hold on, I still need you"
'Hold On' by Chord Overstreet
Chapter 5: Hold On
A/N: Sometimes, you just need to breathe to remember all the good in the world. Sorry this chapter was so late.
None of this was real. That was what George had said. The sand. The water. Hell, even he wasn't real, not really. Aged up in her mind, the same with Derek. She knew it wasn't real. They were dead. She'd been there when they'd both passed, had been the one to sign the form Derek to be taken off of life support. They talked about dying and seeing their funerals, of moments that they hadn't been there to witness. George talked about Alex, Cristina, Izzie and her laughing at his funeral. Derek talked about the kids and things that she had no idea about, reminiscing on moments that they'd had. And it was good, the reminiscing. It didn't make her feel sad like it should have. Maybe it meant that she'd learned from the pain, that it no longer affected her.
This was all some wonderful, peaceful dream that her brain had conjured up while she was unconscious. Rationally, Meredith knew that. Even if she felt the sand between her toes, the water lapping at her ankles, the wind blowing softly through her hair — it wasn't real. And a part of her was sad that it wasn't. It was nice here.
Reality was her in a hospital bed, a ventilator that she didn't want helping her breathe, sick with Covid. Reality wasn't the warmth of the beach, days spent in quiet contemplation. No, reality was full of pain and exhaustion, with the kids no doubt worried sick about her.
She was okay with that reality, but she relished in the paradise her mind allowed her to experience. It was better than aimlessly wandering an empty hospital alone or stuck in her memories. She had no idea what she was supposed to expect when she woke up here, but she was grateful that it wasn't some frozen tundra. A warm beach where there was no pain and she wasn't alone was absolutely perfect.
So maybe that was why when she caught sight of someone completely unexpected on the beach she was confused. This was all in her head. If she tried hard enough, she was sure that she could change the scenery. It wasn't real. So, if this was all a figment of her imagination in order for her to cope with having Covid (honestly, the why had never occurred to her), why was she looking at someone she hadn't seen in nearly 6 years?
Her confusion quickly morphed into fear. Besides the brief visits of Maggie, Lexie and Amelia, the only other people she'd seen on the beach had been dead. But the person she was staring at couldn't possibly be. There was no way, absolutely no way. Was it?
"Addison?"
The redheaded surgeon looked only marginally older than she'd been the last time she'd seen her, but surely she wasn't…
Addison looked as confused as she was, eyes almost comically wide as she replied, "Meredith?"
It was a short distance from where she'd woken up to where Meredith stood, both of them looking perplexed. She'd dreamed of Meredith before, of course she had, but this felt cruel. Stupid, traitorous brain. She wanted to touch her, pull her close, breathe her in. But her fear kept her back. This dream would turn into a nightmare any second and Meredith would be gone and she would be alone again.
"Why are you here?" Meredith's voice cut through her inner dialogue, "How are you here?"
"I should be asking you that," she replied, just barely keeping her voice from cracking. She hated that she was dreaming about the blonde. She would much rather be alone than have to look at her right now.
"Addison," Meredith frowned, a look of concern crossing over her face, "Are you okay?" Was she okay? Did she seem like she was okay? Before she could answer, Meredith continued, "In LA, you're," For a second, Meredith hesitated, her voice catching, "You're alive, right?"
Was she alive? She felt like she was dying from the moment Amelia had first called her months ago, felt like a shell of her former self. She felt like breathing was the worst punishment, like every breath of air was torture.
"I am." It was the truth in a physical sense, but she'd felt dead for months.
Meredith's relief was immediate, her face breaking out in a warm smile, "Thank God."
"Meredith," Warm blue-grey eyes met her gaze, and she hesitantly reached out to touch her: Her cheek, warm to the touch; her shoulders, the white material soft and supple. Her arms encircled the solid body in front of her, and she didn't hesitate to pull the blonde closer. If she was going to disappear any second, she would use the few she had to hold her. God, even this was torture.
Meredith let out a shuddered breath at the contact, and she felt her face warm slightly. This was the first contact she'd had with anyone beside Henry since the very beginning of the pandemic. Meredith's arms came around her waist as she settled herself more against her, gentle fingers resting softly against her low back. Yes, sweet, sweet torture from just a touch.
"This is nice," Meredith breathed against her.
It was nice. Physical contact had been so scarce, so craved, and to be able to have this moment was too good to be true.
"This isn't real," This time, she couldn't stop her voice from cracking. Meredith pulled away just slightly so she could look up at her, and she didn't have it in her to mask the pain she was feeling, "This is just some stupid dream."
"No, it's real," Derek's voice made her jump, and she pulled away from Meredith, detangling herself really, as she turned towards her ex-husband. Her very much dead ex-husband. He sat on a short pier not far from where she and Meredith stood, staring out into the ocean, "Sure, it's a dream, but it's very much real."
"I'm cracking up," she let out a laugh as she ran a hand over her face. God, she was losing her fucking mind. She should stop drinking wine. That was what this was. Some stupid wine-inspired dream, "I'm fucking losing it."
Derek ignored her comments, looking between them with a meaningful glance, "We should talk."
She glanced at Meredith, who was staring at her with the same confusion, before she rolled her eyes. Just what she needed, a conversation with her long-dead ex-husband. Stupid dream. Stupid Derek. Derek spoke again, "And after, you and Meredith should talk."
Meredith's hand found hers, and she glanced at her. Everything about this was batshit crazy. But the warmth in Meredith's eyes had her annoyance at Derek shrinking marginally.
"I'll be in the beach house," Meredith said, pointing at the small, white structure behind her. And despite suspecting that she'd be awake before she'd even had the conversation with Derek, she offered Meredith a small smile.
"I'll find you."
"Is Aunt Amelia okay?"
Winston looked up from putting the last of the dishes away to find Zola looking at him. She and her siblings were sitting at the kitchen table, all three looking serious. Well, as serious as a 10 year old and 5 year old could. Zola looked the most serious, but he could see the worry and fear in her eyes. No 12-year-old could hide that.
"Yeah," he answered.
"She was crying," Ellis said, a frown on her lips, "Are you sure she's okay?"
"She'll be fine," Maggie's voice came from the direction of the living room before she entered the kitchen with Scout.
"But what's wrong with her?" Bailey asked, looking between him and Maggie, "Is she sick like Mommy?"
"No, sweetie," Maggie explained, "Nothing like that."
"So then what is it?" Zola asked, "Did something happen to Mom?"
"Aunt Amelia is stressed," Mark answered honestly as he came into the kitchen. Lexie followed behind him, with Ethan and Suzy, the two six-year old twins dressed and ready for bed, "Your Mom's stats are still looking really good."
"Sometimes," Lexie continued, "especially right now, doctors and nurses get burned out. So, right now it's important for Aunt Amelia to rest."
"And she'll be better soon, right?" Ellis asked, looking between the four adults.
"She will," he answered.
"Promise?" Ellis queried.
"I promise."
"Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise," he confirmed.
"That's enough questions for tonight," Lexie said gently, "Bailey, Ellis, it's bedtime. You too, Ethan, Suzy."
"I need to make a call first!" Bailey announced and then ran out of the room.
He ran up the stairs, and he called after him, "Hey, don't run!"
"Sorry!" came the call back.
"Aunt Maggie, will you tuck me in?" Ellis asked.
"Sure, sweetie."
He took Scout with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to Maggie's lips. Ethan, Suzy and Ellis let out exaggerated ewwws.
Lexie took the twins' hands and led them up the stairs, Ellis and Maggie following her.
"Are you sure," Zola began softly.
"Hey," Mark said gently, making the 12-year-old look over at him, "Your Mom is one of the strongest people I know. She's gonna be fine. And your Aunt Amelia too."
Zola smiled, "Okay. I think I'm gonna head to bed too." She got up and headed towards the stairs.
Once he could hear that Zola was upstairs and out of listening range, he spoke, "Did Amelia say anything else?"
Mark ran a hand through his hair, "No. Addison just up and disappeared after she talked to Amelia yesterday. I called Sam, and no one has heard anything from her. LAPD said because it hasn't been a full 24 hours that they can't file a missing person's report. I tried to call her. It went straight to voicemail. Left a message." The if she even listens to it went unanswered.
This wasn't good. Everyone was getting stretched too thin. It was hard enough with Meredith being sick. Amelia being worried about her ex-sister-in-law wasn't good for anyone.
"They're family," Mark spoke up, as if sensing his train of thought, "Addison has always been there for Amelia."
"Why do you think Addison just up and disappeared then?" Mark shrugged, but there was a glint in his eye that belied his nonchalance, "Do you have a guess?"
"Sure," Mark smirked, "but you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
A/N: Oh Mark and his secrets. I absolutely loved writing this chapter, even if the end bit was annoying as hell. Let me know what you thought. More beach drama in the next chapter.