Thought that Cupid shot me with love
It was only an arrow
(We're not in love)
It started as most things do, especially when it comes started with a mutual desire to betouched, to beadmired. And it started with a mutual distaste for the absoluteneglectthey were both , AddisonwantedDerekjust to say shehad him, Derek wanted both;and none of it really madesense,none of it .
It started as a wayward glance, something akin tohatred, mixed with something completely different that remained ignored. The wayward glance became a wayward touch, a boundary they were both pushing, testing to see if they were on equal terms, standing on equal footing.
Meredith slept with Derek, and the same day, Derek slept with Addison.
He still left them bothwanting,lostto their own desires. The only one truly profiting from this hate- filled relationship wasDerek, of all people, the one whohadhis cake, andateit too. And so there was little more to be expected when that boundary finally broke, when the line in the sand finally became buried in the flood. And yet, it wasn't quitehate,per se.
It sure as shit was notlove.
That would be nigh impossible.
Just 'cause we ain't deep
Doesn't mean we can't enjoy the shallow
(No matter what)
There was no mistaking it, the attraction was no less thanmagneticbetween the two of them. And there was nothinggentleabout it; not that Addison liked it gentle, anyway.
They didn't try to fool themselves, either of them. The first time they came together it was similar to the big bang; the creation of the universe. The first impact of lips and teeth was as though the sky had exploded, their world going down in flames around them. There was nothing sensual about it, Addison thrown almost mercilessly over the edge of her desk, hips bruising from the impact of metal against bone. Meredith's hands were warm in a way she had been all but starved for, and they hardly talked throughout the entire ordeal. When Meredith touched her, her skin felt as though it was onfire, as though she were being burned from the inside out. Her fingers pushed in hard, that first time, and Meredith was all but relentless, digging her teeth into her shoulder as they moved together. Therecouldhave been more to it, of course, and they both knew it as Addison shivered, guiding the blonde's movements against her hips. The mutual attraction that led them here was stagnant in the air, hovering around them; tension so thick one could cut it with a scalpel.
Meredith didn't edge her that first time, letting Addison fall over the edge into absolute bliss with one hand covering her mouth so sheabsolutely would notscream.
And Addison repaid the favor likewise, twice over, because Meredith was such agood girl, letting her climb into her lap once she had collapsed into her chair, legs parted slightly at the discomfort between her legs from being taken soviolentlyfor the first time rides her like the good girl she is, her back arched ever soperfectlyas Addison keeps her secured in her lap.
They don't talk about it after, either.
The same way they don't talk about it when it happens the second time, nor the third. Nor the fourth.
They forgo talking about it long after they've both lost count of the number of times it's happened, when they've begun to scheduleconsultsright ,of course, being when Meredith drives herself to Archfield, finding the redhead's hotel room the first time with only minimal confusion. She drives herself home afterwards too, in something like a modified walk of shame, only one walk that hardly fills her with the aforementioned feelings of shame. They don't kiss, any more than Meredithstays.
They also refuse to talk about it, because they're not in love. There's nothing to their arrangement, save for convenience. It's justsex, no strings, nofeelings.
Feelings make thingscomplicated.
And the last thing Meredith or Addison needed was a little morecomplicatedto add to their alreadycomplicated enough,fucked- up lives.
Never gonna make me want
Make me want more than fun
(We're not in love)
The first time they curl up on Addison's couch, it's an accident really. It wasn't the intention, of course, and yet they're there, with Meredith's arms around Addison's waist, the redhead's cheek pillowed against her chest. She's trying not to whine in pain as her abdomen gives in to an almostshudderingcramp, the blonde's fingers seeking and searching for that spot on her lower back that always seems to help relieve at leastsomeof the pain. When she finds it, Addison all butshudders, leaning into her just a smidge more, they don't quite talk aboutthateither. They don't talk about the fact that this was supposed to bejust another night of really greatsex, and it turned into their very first night of bad cinema because Addison started her period andGodnow she's in so muchpainshe can hardly move. They don't talk about how Meredith's hands ease her discomfort with each and every little touch the same way they don't talk about it when Addison repays the favor four days later and Meredith's in much the same predicament.
And then sex becomesdinnermore often than not, and driving separately stops making sense because it's becomejust a waste of gas,andwhy notjust leave one car in the lot of the hospital? And though they're still not kissing, still telling themselves there aren't any feelings there in the space between them, they both know better. Theyshouldknow better, at the very least. Sex has suddenly transformed into something they won't quite label as dates, that they aren't quite ready to give the title to. But it's dinner more nights than it's not, and coffee in the spare minutes before surgery, to words of well- wishes and solace after every hard day. They've transformed from Meredith pushing Addison against the nearest surface andfuckingher from behind, as quickly as she could to get them both off and back onto the floor, to waiting for somewhere morecomfortable, they can take their time andfeelone another even as they're half- heartedly battling for dominance, for the right for one to get on top andmountthe other.
Meredith doesn't remember the first time she woke up next to Addison. She remembers the shift before it happened, of course. She was going on thirty- seven hours when she still agreed to follow Addisonhome, stumbling as though she's drunk on exhaustion. They hardly get through the door when she presses her mouth to Addison's neck and addstongue, forgetting that was against their stupid fuckingrules, because Addisonsagsagainst the door andmoans, and suddenly she has her heart in her throat, and the voice in her head telling her she wants more. Sheknowsshe gets Addison's dress off, peeling it away as though it's a second skin, before she fumbles at the straps of her bra and the hem of her 'swhen Addison tilts her head up with two fingers beneath her chin, her gaze having gone from lust and desire- filled to riddled with concern. Because Meredith has never stumbled whilst undressing her; not since the very first time she'd been allowed to, sometime long after they'd lost count of the times and the places where the blonde shoved a hand down her panties and took what was tells herself over and over again that they'renotin love, that theycan'tbe, as Addison offers to sleep on the couch and give up her bed for the younger woman. They decide that idea is silly, after another half- hearted argument, because Addison's body iswarm, and she'ssoft, and it's not as though they've never seen one another naked before.
Addison tells herself the same thing that next morning, when Meredith blinks slip from her eyes, her hair tangled between long, slim fingers, arms wrapped around Addison's waist. She repeats the stanza as a mantra as she tells Meredith tomounther, parting her thighs as an excuse so they don't have totalkabout the fact that it's morning, and 're words that are circling around and around, locked in an unending game of cat- chases- mouse, when Addison begs her to go just a bitslowerandsofter, for the very first time. Because it'searly, and though Addisonlovesbeingclaimed, she also appreciates that first round ofgentleness, of not- quite- making- love,before the sun has so much as breached the sky.
It's the first time Meredith lets herself put hermouthon Addison,tastingthe salt on her skin as she writhes, as she moans and guides her to hit herjustthe right way. And it's the first time Addison lets herselffeel, truly touching Meredith, in every way that she can, lifting her knees so her thighs lock fully around the woman's hips. It's the first time they climaxtogether, with both of them simply too afraid to say what they're both thinking; that this could be more. That it already is.
They almost talk about it when it happensagain,and the occasional dinner turns to three days a week, and then three days a week becomesfivedays a week, with a standing time included for post- shift drinks every second Saturday evening with their friends.
And yet, theystillchoose to ignore the all- too obvious signs; the standing argument to be made that neither one of them has so much looked the way of another human being since their relationship began. That they've begun to populate the same on-call room during their overnight shifts, especially when those shifts coincide. They almost talk about it almost every morning, the words floating in the comfortable space between them as they wake together every morning. In the morning haze when Meredithreallykisses Addison for the very first time, she tries to apologize, to claim it was just amistake,that she's still halfasleep, that she didn't reallymean to, and Addison just tells her to do itagain,they agree silently to ignore maybe they do it because they're both just not quiteready,even though by all arguments for and against them, theyshouldbe.
They don't ask why the progression feels sonaturalbetween them. They hardly even acknowledge it's there.
If you wanna be the one
Be the one, just for now
(It's not enough)
Addison doesn't tell Meredith right away. She doesn't tell Meredith how every waking moment without her by her side is absolutetorture. How she can't continue to keep doingthis,thiswhatever- it- isthat they're doing, this cyclic game of ignoring their feelings, having sex, and ignoring it again in the morning. That she can't keep stayinghere,inSeattlewithout telling Meredith exactly how she feels. She's going to break down soon, between the pressure of staying silent, and the way peoplelookat her. Look at her as though she's vile, as though she's evil. As though she'sSatan,the ruler of Hell.
They haven't kissed again since the night of that first time, and it's the thought of Meredith's lips over hers that has her leaning into her shoulder as she releases an almost relentless, weary sigh. She steps her fingers up Meredith's forearm as the blonde hums, trailing the edge of her finger sideways over her collarbone, trailing up her neck. She thinks of the beaches in Malibu as she does so, as she's tracing the freckled lines of Meredith's skin, and how different it will be than it ishere,where it's dreary and cold more than half the year. But she won't havethis,she won't won't have long nights on her couch, wrapped in arms that won't claim theyloveher. She won't wake up here, withher, and it pains her from the pit of her stomach, the base of her heart. Her thumb brushes Meredith's chin, tilting it down, resolving herself towanther, and then she simply musthave her.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" Addison feels herself weaken as blue eyes meet her own, feels her resolve as it deteriorates, falling into decay as quickly as it surged into life. "What is it,Addie?"Her voice softens as she speaks her name, and something flares in her stomach as Meredith speaks. She can't justdisappearwithout saying anything. Meredith could, no, shewill,feel abandoned, and Addison simply can'thurt herlike that. For as much as this started asnothing but sex, Addison's found that if thisisn'tlove, because itcan'tbe, she stillcares.
"I'm leaving for California." Meredith's hand freezes at her elbow, fingers curled around her forearm. The silence between them is long, pregnant. She can feel Meredith's heart as it beats beneath the muscle of her forearm, the previously steady rhythm slowing against the pressure of her elbow. Addison keeps her eyes closed, for one more moment, drawing a deep breath through her nose. She resigns herself to findanythingin Meredith's eyes. She thinks she's ready when she lifts impossibly long lashes, and she knowsinstantlythat she' 's so much there, behind Meredith's eyes, that she can no longer discern the confusion, from the worry, from thehurt.
Luckily for Addison, she doesn't have to. Meredith's hand cups her cheek, fingers pressing into the back of her head as shesurgesforward and down, catching Addison's mouth with her own. Addison can't help butmoaninto her, the tiniest sound leaving her throat. Meredith's tongue touches the roof of her mouth, winds with her own, and Addison can't help but let her fingers wind into blonde hair. Her thumbs brush Meredith's cheeks as the woman draws back from her mouth, leaving her burning for more.
"When?"Meredith asks, her voice small, like the chirp of a bird, the squeak of a mouse. Addison's thumbs pause in their slow movement, frozen against her cheeks. Her fingers flex ever so slightly as their gazes lock; blue to blue- green. Shecan'tlie to Meredith, not can't lie to her any more than she can keep lying to herself about this, aboutthem.
"Tomorrow." Addison breathes, Meredith's breath brushing her neck, warming it.
"Tomorrow?" Meredith parrots her, her eyes glazing over ever- so- slightly. Blue eyes that reflect back at her like mirrors made from unshed tears. She nods, hovering closer, brushing the pad of her thumb over a swollen lower lip, ignoring the tremble she feels from it.
"In the… Evening." Addison's voice cracks, even as she tries to cover it with a swallow. As she tries to fight the growing lump in her throat that tells her this is the worst way to go, the wrong path for her to be treading.
"I work tomorrow." Meredith chokes on the words, though Addison ignores it. She ignores it the same way she ignores how badly this hurts, how it feels as though she's cutting out a piece of herself and leaving it behind.
"Maketonightcount." She breathes, pressing her lips to Meredith's closing the distance between the two of them the same way she's closing the door onherself,on herself as Meredith's mouth moves over hers, as their tongues touch, and wind, anddance.
She forgets about California, because Meredith istouchingher, andkissingher. And it's everything she's ever wanted, everything she's lets Meredith on top of her first, arching her back like a cat. She doesn't realize at first what Meredith'sdoingwith her hands. What she's doing as she moves her palms over Addison's skin, as she chases her fingers with her lips, and her tongue. As she slows to a pace that's almost agonizing. The clues connect in her brain only when Meredith's whispering into the skin of her abdomen how beautiful it is; the way Meredith's been arduous in her attention, how her fingers have found every dip and every curve of her body. Meredith islearningher, she'smappingher, committing her tomemory.
She's treating this as theirlasttime, in the very same breath that it's theirfirsttime.
It's the first time she has Meredith's mouth trulyonher, that she topples over the edge with her head between her legs, with Meredithtastingher. It's the first time that Meredith climbs back up her body as she's coming down from being high, and they're still nottalkingabout it, they still haven'tsaid haven'tnamed it.
They can't call it what it is,Addison reminds herself, as she rolls Meredith beneath her. She hasn't thought of anything butMeredithas she lowers herself, As she submits herself to those very same desires expressed by the blonde, and begins learningher, , andmapping. She's committing Meredith to memory, the way Meredith's already Addisonwantsto remember this, wants to remember theonlytime they've made love. They only time they'regoing to.
It's thoughts ofMeredith, of whatcouldbe, and whatisn't, that brings her all the way into a first- class seat. It's Meredith's freckled skin, beneath her hands. Meredith's neck beneath her mouth, her moans filling her ears. The sound of Meredith's voice rising as she calls out her name still echoes in her ears when shefinallythinks about California. She thinks about California for the first time since Meredith's mouth met her own. She doesn't think about why shestilldecided to go. Why it hurtmorethat Meredith woke up and pressed her lips to the cusp of her spine before dressing and leaving for work. She doesn't say anything as she hovers at the door for a moment, her eyes filled with what Addison refers to sheknows,becauseshe feels it too.
She doesn'tthinkabout it for the very same reason they've nevertalkedabout it.
She can't walk into the next stage of her lifeafraid. Afraid Meredith doesn'twanther, the wayshe wants Meredith.
Staring at the stars
Got the lights dimmed to feel a connection
The stars above, staring at the stars above
(They're not in love)
Addison didn't expect Meredith to follow her. Not all the way to Malibu beach, all the way to the sun. She tilts her head to the side as an arm stretches over her. As a straw drags away from Meredith's lips, as she replaces long fingers back into shiny red hair, Addison can't help the little smile that graces her lips. The little smile that curls wider whenever she thinks about everythingMeredith.
She traces her fingers over Meredith's abdomen as she thinks of the knock on the door that made her rise from the deck. As she pulls inward to find the blonde with nothing but a single carry- on bag over one shoulder. It's a whisperedheythat has Addisonwiltingandreachingfor her. That has Meredith crawling over her, telling her how absolutelyphenomenalshe looks with a tan as she's kissing her skin. Addison hadn't feltbeautifulsince she'd moved out from Seattle until that very moment. She'd felt the same way she had with Derek; .
She reaches up for Meredith's facenow, as the sky lights with color, as dusk turns to night. Even though they had agreed to watch the sun set, neither is particularly upset to miss it; Addison's arms wrapped around Meredith's neck, both tasting the giant remnant of alcohol upon the other's tongue. They neither begin nor end there, against one another, winding their limbs with every increase in touch. Originally Addison had said no to sex on her deck chair, that it was tooexposing, too awkward. Sam livesright next door, he couldseethem. She stops caring about it, being seen, being found out, when Meredith'stouchingher again. When her hands run over the curve of her back, and then the opposite curve of her ass. Fingers finding the inside of her thighs as she climbs Meredith's side with her knee hooked over her hip. Those same fingers finding her as she guides lips to her neck as she stares at the stars, head thrown back with every guidingyesthat's often followed byplease, more.
"When are you coming back?" Addison asks her on the third night, the sparks fading from the inside of her eyelids as she catches her breath. It's a question that matches the weight of the thoughts in her mind, a swirling torrent ofI love youandI need you, the things she reallycan'tsay, it's not the she says them, Meredith may not come back, may not fall back in her bed as willingly as she has.
"Next month maybe? If that's okay?" Addison tells her itis,because God, is itever. She has no idea how she'll make it so far or so long, but at the very leastshe has something to look forward she makes love to Meredith again, that night, begging to say it as shetastesher. Holding off only because she goes down as though she's almost dragging her body, and Meredithcomesso violently and beautifully against her mouth that Addison's left without breath for the words.
She's the first to feel regret overnotsaying it, because she's the first to acknowledge it as she finds her bed empty that night. As she sends the first text, the first extension of her hand, that firstI miss you, and receives her reply. She regrets that shemoved, and she regrets not asking Meredith tostay. She regrets the month three days into it, finding herself hoping andprayingthat Meredithwillcome back, and it permeates her mind with the sickness of worry.
She needn't have worried, as it's less than two weeks when she stumbles home late and her bedisn'tempty. When fingers extend towards her and pull her in close. It's less than two weeks and she has her nose in blonde hair, when her exhaustion isn't quite so overwhelming anymore. Meredith eases it through that first night so it's gone by the morning. So it's gone by the time Addison is straddling her lap, waking her with kisses pressed to her throat, and Meredith's not only touching, butbeggingher like she'sstarved.
It becomes a habit for them; Meredith comes back every other week. Every time she's rotated off of a Tuesday and has three days in a row. They makelovewhen she gets there, and they makeloveagain when she leaves. Addison admits it one of those nights, when she's seeing familiar stars behind her eyelids. When Meredith'sinher at the same time she'sholdingher, as she's coming down from her being beside Meredith Grey, and she wants to gohome.
Broke a couple hearts
But I'm not trying to start a collection
No, we're not in love
(They're not in love, no matter what)
Meredithfinallyends it, the whatever- it- was that was still going on with Derek still chasing her, and she chooses to do itherway. She chooses to end it asviolentlyas she 's red in the face, flushed from the center of her chest to the lines of her eyes, when she finallyscreamsit.
I'm not in love with you.
Theverysame thing she's been telling herself, every time she looks atAddison,every time she touchesAddison,every time she she couldneverhateAddisonthe way she way she hates Derek for everything he made her feel, and doubles down upon herself when she thinks of the things he must have madeAddisonfeel. She hates him for every time he made Addison feel like anoutcast, for every time he made her feelforgotten, suddenly, Meredith isn't hating him as much for herself anymore than she is hating him for making Addison leaveherbehind.
It's like that, in front of half the hospital staff that she finally ends whatever relationship hestillbelieves is there, shattering it to bits. She has tears in her eyes as she's reaching for the phone that weighs heavy in her pocket as though it's her rock, her last link to her very life. It's been almostsix monthssince she's seen her, since she's gone out to Malibu and seenAddison, since she's feltwholeandcomplete. As though she's notdamaged, doesn't need her eyes to be clear as she types out her message by feel, because the only person she's texted in weeks, aside from one stray text to Izzie togo get some damn groceries, is Addison.
She'salwaysthinking of Addison, of that last night in her arms in Seattle. The way Addison's voice pitches as she's about to crash over the edge, her back arching upward and her fingers flexing against the back of her head, swims around in her mind. It's a thought that's always there, a memory crushed somewhere betweenwhat ifandcould have been,the way Meredith's head had been crushed between beautiful, creamy- white thighs. How California wasn't the same, but at least it was was stillAddison.
It wasn't the same as waking up next to her, but Meredith never went a full day without calling her. Hell, she hardly went a couple of non- surgical hours withouttextingher. It's why when she types out her message, it's the same opener she's relied on hundreds, maybe thousands, of times.
I miss you.
Addison answers. Addisonalwaysanswers.
I'll call in a moment. Hang on. Wait for me.
All three messages come in within seconds of one another. She smiles as she nods to herself, turning on her heel to head toward the elevator. To take her call outside, so when she breaks down overthis,it's less public. And when she breaks down asecondtime, whenAddison hangs up,it' always has to hang up, after all. They always havesomethingthat's keeping them apart, whether it's work, or it'sDerek,or it'sthemselves.
The elevator chimes before she can press the button to go down, as though it's rising to meet her. Six months, she thinks once again, her thoughts spinning around the gap in time. Six months have passed since she last went to California. Six months since she's laid with Addison between her arms, since the last time she's pressed her lips to the swell of her spine. Six months since she's said good- night inperson, because it's just sodifferentwhen they say it over the phone. It's not the same, andshe'snot the same, she's no longer sure of thewhyor thehowshe let it get this bad.
I want to come see you.
Meredith types it out.
Six months, six fucking months.
Panic is rising in her throat, and she needs Addison to callnow, before she crumbles to dust all on her lonesome, waiting for a phone callthat may never for a text, for anything, and it's the first timeeverthat Addison doesn't answer her right away. Doesn't answerat all.
Meredith crushes her phone in her grip, raising her hands to her face as though she could silently scrub away her pain. Asking herself, over and over, again and again, why did shelet it get this bad?
She's still in the lobby like that, when the sound of stilettos on marble permeates her brain, stopping just shy of her. Inches away, and she thinks and shethinks, that she's sotiredanddistraughtthat she's hallucinating. There's a touch to each of her arms; the palm of two hands she's beenfeelingonly when she closes her eyes, that she shakes her head. The dream is too real this time, nearly tangible, and she needs to dispel it before it goes just toofar, before she falls down the rabbit hole behind it.
Yet it's not like thenormaldream, where Addison would take this moment to step away and smile at her justso. Instead she's bewitched as those fingers squeeze, as the thrumming in her ears starts to fade. As her breathing slows ever so slightly and she steps to the edge almost willingly, ready to jump into wonderland. The fingers pressure doesn't fade as it moves down her shoulders, trailing her arms as she lowers her hands, allowing that pressure to find her palms.
"I missed you."Addison breathes into the air, and she finally dares tolookand first she still thinks she's fallen, but it's missing the fuzz, the little white haze that tells Meredithyou're about to wake up. You're about to wake up, andshe won't be there with you. It's missing that haze because Addisonisthere with her, and Addisonisholding her hands.
She steps into her hug as the first sob cracks her voice. Her hands release to clutch almost blindly at her back, as though she's clinging to an apparition conjured from her very mind.
"You'rehere."She says once when she's wrapped in the redhead's embrace, in the front of the hospital's lobby, just off to the side by the couch. It's where they first met, and it feels a lifetime ago, as though it were adifferentstory being written back then. Adifferentsort of story that neither of them cares to discuss, to wonderwhat says it again, the same way, as Addison drives her car to the hotel. A third time over dinner, when Addison tells her thatyes, she's signed a contract, andyes, she's here to stay; because for both of them the distance and time was just becoming nothing but anotherwaste of fuel, this time in theair.
Meredith doesn't have to ask if she'sthereanymore after that, for the simple reason that 's touch becomes tangible, as real as it iswarm,when her fingers glide over her skin and they find themselves doing what they only dared to do before one or the other was due to 's soft touches, and kisses, the air filled with sound. They're so entangled in one another they ignore the subjectagain, more than happy to justbe,and see where it's destined tolead.
Honey, we don't fall in love
We're not in– (Trust me)
We're not in– (Trust me)
(Are they in love?)
"We'renotinlove."It's Meredith that screeches it, and she does it because she's scared. It's more than the fear of what being fired, of having tampered with Derek's trial means in regards toherfuture, but it'sAddison's,too. She's so scared ofwhat ifthat she's lost sight of thenow,and her words come out laced in venom she has no control over.
They come out becauseAddisonsaid itfirst, and that wasn't how this was supposed to be. None of this was how it was supposed to be. Their lives are spiraling downward at a rate she can't 's not that shemeantthe words that flew out of her mouth, and it feels as though it's just one moremail in the coffin, that the momentAddisonsaid thatfucking word, they fellapart.
She takes Zola home that night, when Addison stays at work. By the next day, Meredith's lost her too, because all she's done is lie 's failed herself as she's failed her baby, and most ofallshe's failedAddisontoo. She's failedAddisonin so many ways through the years she can't quite fathom why she's put up with her for even this long, why she even cameback.
She doesn't know how long she sits there, her hands in her hair, curled up on the floor. Meredith's world 's gone and she can't see it coming back. The same way she can't see the handle of the door turn with a key. She doesn't move as a body slides down the wall beside her, as fingers find her elbow tentatively, as though they're afraid to touch her.
She's glad her tears have run dry, because the touch is sosoft, she feels as though she coulddie.
"I lost Zola. They took her away." She sobs the words out, not indulging any details, because she truly has none to give. Not would recognize that touch anywhere, filled with trepidation or not. She lets long fingers pull her head to the side, resting it against an almost bony shoulder. Meredith's heart beats only twice before she buries her nose into Addison's neck, the tears flowing freely.
"We can get her back." Fingers rub through her hair, stroking mindlessly.
"We?"Because she had hurt Addison so badly, in her own desperation. In her own almost- mindless grasp to keep some semblance of control over her life, she had hurt the people that mattered the most to her, the one person that had walked beside her through every fire they'd started.
"We." Addison's breath is soft, her lips brushing the top of her hair.
"How long have you been gone?"
"Four days." Meredith pauses, her hand freezing in the air, hovering just an inch from Addison's hip. Shewantsto hold her, but there's that little voice in her head telling her she did too she broke not only what they were, but she brokethem."I thought you just needed time. That I pushed you too hard, and-" Addison's inhale is sharp, she shakes her head a little bit. Meredith knows because she can feel the ends of her hair brushing her cheek. "I came back as soon as I heard." Her voice quivers with fear, and with anguish, and Meredith finds herself wondering any number of things, each more painful than the last. How long had Addison loved her, before she gained the confidence to say it? And why had Meredith shot it down so hard and sofast,especially whenshe felt it too?
How much damage had she done?
"Did youeat?"Meredith asks, instead of any of the other number of things in her brain. It's the one thought she can reach out and grasp onto.
"No." Meredith knew the answer before she asked, yet it was still another wound in her chest when Addison spoke. When she gave rise to the depth of betrayal. Meredith pushes her palm into her eyes in the moment before she rises from her spot on the floor. She groans as she struggles to her feet, turning to drag Addison up beside her. The redhead's eyes are as puffy and raw as hers feel, and she can't help but throw her arms around her with little regret. It's in that hug that they agree to fight for Zola, and they agree to fight foreach other, too.
When Meredith's spooning a half portion of protein into the blender she finally says it.
"I didn't mean what I said."She can't look at Addison as hands ring her arms, squeezing. As there's a soft scoff against her neck as Addison ducks her head against her, embarrassed bythis,by howwellMeredith knowsher, down to her core. By how easy it is for them to just slip and fall back into their routine.
"I know."
"I'm scared."Meredith whines, and she gazes at Addison, her expression crestfallen, broken. Addison just nods, follows her to the couch, follows her as they curl up. As though no time has passed at all, her fingers tracing Addison's back as she drinks. "You don't have to finish it."
"I'msupposed to be the one helpingyou."Meredith parts her lips, hovering over Addie's shoulder as she considers the statement in the same moment she does her actions. She's losing herself in Addison, in the very way presses them down lightly to the curve of her shoulder when fingers brush the top of her hair and moves to her neck when they squeeze into her scalp ever so lightly.
"Youare."They lay there in the silence of the house, for a long time; Meredith's hand is spread over Addison's abdomen, every now and again her thumb twitching, rubbing her belly. They're justthem, as theyare,and they don't need theword.
They're curled up in bed when Cristina calls them, and they sing to Zola together. Addison claims she can't sing, but it's one of Meredith's fondest memories, one of her favorite sounds. She holds Addison closer than ever that night, and tells her so.
When Zola starts speaking, long after they've gotten the call and gotten her back, her first word ismommy. Addison has her cradled against her shoulder when that happens, humming softly as she all but dances through the kitchen at one in the morning. She doesn't know Meredith's up, much less standing, weight heavy against the doorframe as she watches. It makes both of them freeze, Meredith recovering first. Her arms fit around Addison's hips as they cradle their daughter between them in the wee- hours of the morning, the still- silence of the night. She presses her mouth to Addison's as she decides, then and there.
Neither one of them has dared to say the L- word again, and she considers that Addison has held off out of fear that she'll react with hostility again. It seems so long ago that she did, and something to Meredith 'redifferent now. They'reparentsnow, and they're parentstogether.
Love?
Love doesn't evenbeginto explain what they've become.
We're not in– (Trust me)
We're not in– (Trust me)
(Is it enough?)
"I had to find out fromAlex."Addison all but screeches across their patient. The circulator has frozen in place, somewhere behind Meredith, and she wastes only one fraction of a second damning Alex, before she snaps back to the present.
"Doctor Montgomery, please calm ."Meredith almost begs the words, gritting her teeth. She knew this was a possibility, when she told Alex her plan this her plan. She left out specifics, and dates, and she left out the part that involvedAddison. In some ways, she considers that she should have given him a hint, maybe. Inso many others,she knows shecouldn'tgive him a hint. That heclearlywould have spilled the beans. She flicks her gaze down to the patient open between them, the suture she's braced between her hands.
"I willnotcalm down. You're leaving forBoston?"Addison's voice rises, her tone absolutelyscathing. "You didn't think to sayanything-"
"Ten minutes." Four stitches. Scrub out. She inhales, keeping her voice even as she looks back down to the skin beneath her fingers. "Less thanten minutes,Addie. Please."
"Fine."If she didn't know Addison so well, she would confuse the tone for being filled is thankful that she knows Addison as well as she does, just then. That she recognizes everything her toneis, just as she does everythingit is 's fear, it'spain.
Fucking Alex.
There's still no- one else she'd rather have as her best man, yet she's once again thankful she leftthatpart out this morning when she pulled him aside before this surgery to talk to him about it. To talk to him about her moving, staying as Zola's guardian despite the relocation. Hell, she even called Cristina that morning. Cristina was waiting for a call back too, with Addison's damn answer.
She feels her circulator pause at her back, feels weight re- enter her pocket as she lifts her hands from her patient, releasing the surgery verbally.
Addison follows her to the sink in complete silence, their tech standing in the awkward spot to Meredith's right. She's thankful as she decides to take the stairs, leaving the two of them in the elevator, blissfully alone.
"Boston?" Addison's voice is softer now, threaded with weakness, threaded with cracks.
"For Zola." Meredith confirms. It makes sense, really. She has to take her daughter to the place where she'll be best taken care of.
"I'm losingbothof you?Again?"And God, does she just want to wrap Addison in her arms right then, to console her and spill all of the secrets she's been keeping for the past three months. She clings to her hope as the doors open, instead winding her fingers with Addison, tugging them forward into the lobby. It's inconvenient, and they'll have to change scrubs again, but she can hardly find it in her to care. Nothing matters. Nothing butAddison.
The lobby's been rearranged, but she still drags Addison over to the side, puts her back to the door as the patients there stare at the two of them, curious. They must look outrageous, Addison in her muted pink scrubs, their matching scrub caps. She disregards the stairs as she turns to face her, because this was where this began. Hell, this was whereeverythingbegan.
"It seems like forever ago, that you stood right there and introduced yourself to me." Meredith cuts off whatever Addison is shouting about, becausedamn, is she shouting again. "Do you remember?"
Addison is quiet, her lips parted as she draws her breath in, as Meredith's fishing in her pocket. As she's blessing her circulator with her thanks as every head in that lobby turns. As she, Meredith Grey, sinks to her knees right there on the lobby's cold floor. This wasn'tquitewhat she had in mind when she thought up the idea, when she decided it suits them. It suits themperfectly.
"Will you, Addison Adrianne Forbes- Montgomery, come to Boston with Zola and I? Will you, the mother of our child, make me the happiest woman in the world and become my wife?" She inhales, because she catches the tears welling in Addison's eyes. Reaches for the hand even as it's being extended to her. "Addie, will you marry me?"
" , yes."
She doesn't quite hear the roar of approval around them, broken by thatone guythat can't quite breathe and starts coughing. She doesn't think about what she'll say to Cristina, about how much planning there's going to be. She doesn't think that this isfinallyhappening, that shefinallyasked, and can't quite focus on anything butAddison, parting their lips as Addison clings to her shoulders, as she ducks her nose against her ear. Because there's only one last thing to say.
It's thatthingshe's avoided, that thing she'sdenied, even when Addison was strong enough to say it and shewasn' 's always existed between them, that's survived every trial and tribulation thrown their way. Meredith's felt it, of course, she's just been too stupid and tooscaredto ever bring it up. Until now. Until Addison's flushed in the face of the public, as they're clinging to one another, diamondfinallyaround her finger where it belongs.
"I love you, Addie. I always have."
It is enough,
We are in love
(They are in love)