Derek stared up at the bottom of the bunk above him and tried to force his mind to concentrate on the silence of the on call room.

He was hiding. He was stalling. He was hiding and stalling, and all because today a phone message update wouldn't do and after nearly a week, Derek had to walk into a room and look Addison in the face.

It had not been his intent to let so much time go by before he did see her again, but reason and compassion had finally flared to life in his brain not long after his confrontation with Addie outside the Alexis Hotel. Though, if he was being honest with himself, it had still taken an outside voice to make what he had seen in her and felt inside his own heart gel into the concrete decision to give Addison the space she was begging him for.

[i]"Let her go."

Once he could breathe again... once the spike of guilt that Addison's words had driven through his heart allowed him to breathe again, Derek had started after her. But he'd barely gone five steps toward the hotel entrance when Burke's voice called out behind him. Turning, Derek found his friend a few feet behind him.

"You heard?"

Preston nodded. "Enough."

"I can't leave things like that. I have to... I need to talk to her."

"Just let... her... go."

As Preston spoke, he came forward, and when Derek ignored him and began to move away again, his fellow surgeon's strong hand fell on his arm, stopping him.

"What will you say? What do you think you can say that will make this better?"

He didn't know. He had no idea. But he felt like he had to try. And he tried to think of a way to explain that to Burke, but he lost his chance as someone with perspective forced it upon him.

"She's grieving, Derek. She's mourning her marriage. And she gets to hate you right now and to be angry. You can't fix that."

The urge to ignore Preston once again was still there, but Derek fought it down and instead tried to give full consideration to what he was hearing. It wasn't that it didn't make perfect sense; it was just that it wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted a solution--a set of words or phrases he could speak that would somehow bandage the wound he had created in the woman he had once called the love of his life.

"Addison is not you," Burke said, pushing on, making sure he got his message across as if he could feel Derek's wavering. "She has not moved on, she's not in love with someone else. She is still in love with you. Give her time to let that go."[/i]

When someone you respect takes the time to connect the dots for you so clearly, you have to stop and pay attention, and Derek had. And that talk combined with the unbelievable hurt he had seen in Addison's eyes earlier had told him that he finally had to do what she had asked, what Preston had advised. He had to let her be, give her time, let her get over him. If he didn't, he was going to do even more damage than he had already.

So he'd resolved to back away. He had started parking in a different part of the lot instead of the space he knew would put him near Addie's spot. He was careful to look for her in the cafeteria or near the coffee cart before he advanced himself so he could change direction if need be. And though he hated it, Derek had taken to leaving Addison phone messages about consults, receiving her replies in returned voicemails, in order to stop cornering her at work in one-on-one situations.

But it was hard. Much harder than he'd imagined. And very different from the weeks of absolutely no contact between them after he had left New York and come to Seattle. Because then, he'd had no desire to talk to her, to see her, to know if she was okay. And now those thoughts were there constantly throughout every day. But Derek held firm, because he'd finally realized that this was all he could do to help Addison. He had to stay away.

So he'd tried to refocus his energy and making better what had been strained and wrong between he and Meredith. So he had started by taking her to breakfast Saturday to apologize for the way he'd let his emotions push her away the night before. And then they'd started trying to make some plans... talking about whether they might move in together and where that would be and what that would mean for their mutual living situations. Nothing was settled, but Meredith seemed more relaxed now that he was worrying about looking at the future and not fixing the past, and seeing her happier made Derek feel like he was managing to accomplish something.

"Hey."

Meredith peeked in the door and as she closed it behind her, Derek sat up.

"Hey."

"So... I, uh, I talked to Izzie and George." She made her way to his side and sat next to him. "It's a total no-go on Doc coming back. They both said they'd move out if he spends more than a night every now and then at the house."

Derek nodded. Things with Meredith were better, but things with Doc had continued to be difficult. His dog... their dog... was miserable. They had tried taking him for more walks, they had tried giving him treats, new toys, even setting up play dates with other dogs that their vet had helped arrange. But Doc was miserable.

"I had a talk with the vet today," Derek offered. "He gave me some ideas of things we could try next. So we'll... we'll talk about all that later, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, nodding. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It was just a long surgery."

"You coming over tonight?"

Derek sighed and looked at her. He wished he could tell her that it wasn't just the long surgery that had left him in this mood, it was the conversation he was about to go face and the worry he felt about how it might affect Addie. Or that he was already exhausted from the effort it took to avoid Mark now that they shared the same hallways every day. But he couldn't tell Meredith those things. So instead Derek decided to look past what came next in the hopes it would make things easier.

"Why don't we go out tonight? Dinner, some wine, just... get away from things. What do you say?"

Meredith smiled and then leaned in and kissed him. "I say I'll meet you in the lobby at about 7:00?"

"7:00 it is."

They kissed again and then Meredith left to get back to work. Derek sat in the restored quiet another moment before he put his hands on the bunk and pushed himself up.

Enough hiding, enough killing time. It was time to go.

*****

There were definitely moments in his life that Mark Sloan wouldn't mind a do-over on. Rarely did that apply to his professional life; his do-over situations always fell to the more personal. And his latest was incredibly personal and, at present, number one on the list of things he wished he could take back.

The difference, perhaps, between this and any other time something he'd said about Derek post-affair that had upset Addison was that the result had not been intentional. He had simply made an honest observation, but he had done it without really knowing where she was at or, most tragically, what was to come. As he tried to settle into some sort of routine at Seattle Grace, it was honestly all he could think about.

She had looked so gorgeous in that damn navy blue dress. She'd been all he could focus on from the podium at the benefit once Richard had introduced him. And Mark had seen every step she had taken out of the room as he had accepted congratulations and welcomes from his new colleagues and the party guests. But then she'd come back in, and all he could think was that he had to get one dance. Just one. He wasn't breaking any rules. After all, they had danced together all the time back in New York when they had been "just friends" and Derek had been too busy or distracted or simply not there to dance with his wife.

He'd teased, he'd flirted, and she'd given in, and for a few minutes Mark was just happy to be with Addison She had laughed at him and caught him cold on having requested the sexy song that filled the room. In fact, her smile had been well worth the hundred bucks he had tipped the deejay to play the song the second he saw them step onto the dance floor. And then just that quickly, the fun was over, and only now, looking back, did Mark see that he had allowed her to hide an underlying sadness from him with her smile and her teasing and the dance.

[i]"I, uh..."

Mark felt his brow crease as Addison inexplicably began to pull away from him.

"Addison?"

"He's... he's watching us."

Following her gaze, Mark saw Derek's harsh stare bearing down on them. Meredith Grey was looking, too, but with far less interest. He turned, Addison still in his arms, and drew her a bit out of their line of sight.

"He's here with his girlfriend, Addison. You can dance with whoever you want."

She nodded and tried to smile, but he could see how much effort it was taking her to even try. When she tried to pull back again, he let her, and then followed as she walked to the edge of the dance floor.

"How much longer?"

Her red hair whirled around her shoulders as Addison turned and faced him.

"How much longer... what?"

"How much longer do you put your life on hold because of him?"[/i]

The question had rattled her, and he wished now that he had waited to ask it later, sometime when she wasn't in a room full of people who didn't need to fuel their gossip menus with talk of how hard Addison was taking her divorce. But it was too late. Because he had asked then, and when she hadn't answered, he had been unable to let it go.

[i]"And you and I both know that I'm not just talking about the months you've spent here in Seattle waiting for him to get over Meredith. What about the years you spent trying to hold on to him, trying to wake him up, before you ever even looked twice at me and gave him an excuse to walk out?"

She opened her mouth to answer him, but then Addison just looked up at him. Too late, he saw that, really, she'd just been trying to get through the night, hoping to not let anyone see how much she missed Derek or how deeply it hurt her to see him publicly make it known that he had moved on.

"Addison... I didn't mean... I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's... it's fine. I... you're right." She shook her head, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I've... I've been trying to hold on to something that's not mine anymore... that hasn't... been mine in a very long time. And it's time to just... be honest with myself. Derek's let go. He had let go, years ago, because... because he just didn't care, did he? He just... didn't."

When she turned away again to head for the exit, Mark didn't try to stop her. He wasn't entirely sure what to do except mentally scold himself for having triggered the break of the tenuous dam inside of her.

It was only later, when Miranda Bailey and Richard Webber both said they hadn't seen her again that Mark knew he had to go looking for her. So he had started searching. A quick check of the lot had told him her car was still there. Then he had recruited a few women to check the ladies' room, and when that proved futile, he'd gone roaming the halls. But it was back near the front door in a small alcove that he'd found her.

Or more accurately, what remained of her.

"Addison?"

She was undone, and Mark could tell she hadn't even heard him. She was standing there looking like someone had just told her she was dying.

"Addison?"

He said her name three more times and then finally, he stepped closer and gently put his hands on her arms. She flinched, but then she looked up and saw him.

"Mark?"

"Yeah, it's me, honey."

"I... I need to go home. I have to get home."

Her voice was weak, flat, and his mouth went dry and his throat tightened because Mark had never seen her like this, not even when Derek had run from New York and she had been left in a literal state of shock.

"I'm gonna get the car, okay? You just stay right here, and I'll get your car and I'll take you home."

Addison nodded as Mark reached for her purse and found the valet ticket. He rushed out and asked the attendant to pull the car to the side entrance rather than out in front, another hundred dollar bill gaining the man's agreement. Addison was still standing where he'd left her, and Mark slipped his arm around her waist and started to walk her toward the exit door he hoped would shield her from prying eyes. She moved along easily, putting up no fight at all, and perhaps that, the lack of fight, of intention, was the thing that made Mark the most concerned. Addison Shepherd lived on fight, on firm intent. And now it was gone.

She remained silent through the journey back to her house. Mark helped her from the car and walked her to the door, and because he had her keys in hand, he worked the lock and let her inside. He wasn't sure if he should stay or go and use his cell to call a cab back to the hotel. He wasn't sure how much of this was his fault or if she even wanted him there.
But then she looked back at him and Mark felt asked to stay. So he walked inside and closed the door and just... waited.

Addison dropped her purse onto the sofa and then turned so she was fully facing him.
The hurt was etched into her features and it had dimmed the brightness in her eyes. Her shoulders sat slumped in way Mark could barely stand to see. And she was just... silent. She was looking at him like she couldn't speak, like the very act of speaking was impossible. He walked forward and took her right hand, laying it against his chest so the palm rested flat there.

"Addison, just... whatever you need. I'm here."

He barely realized she'd moved before her hand ripped free from his grasp and her arms were around his neck and her lips were against his. Mark felt his head grow light as her tongue played against his lips, and his mouth opened instinctively, recognizing that this was Addison kissing him, and that he wanted nothing in the world, ever, as much as he wanted Addison.

His arms tightened around her and she pressed against him and Mark's heart threatened to jump out of his chest. Her hunger for him felt urgent... primal... almost desperate. And as that last word registered in his mind, Mark leapt mentally from the house in Seattle to the perfect penthouse with the perfect view in New York, where, on another night, he had felt these same things pulsing through Addison's body.

"Addison, no. No."

Pushing her away nearly killed him, and Mark had to put both of his hands on her shoulders and hold her with a firm grip to keep her from trying to pull him against her again.

"Addison, no."

His body rebelled at the very idea of rejecting the chance to have what it dreamt of nightly, but Mark knew he had to stop this, and stop it now. Because the last time, he hadn't won Addison by making love to her, he had only torn her life apart. And he didn't want to be that man anymore. He wanted to be a man who had a future... with Addison.

"You don't really want me either."

He barely heard her whispered words, and then she tried to jerk away from him. Filling in the blanks, Mark realized that something had happened between Addison and Derek between their dance and him finding her in the hotel entryway. The "what" was unimportant right now, but whatever it was, Addison had come away from it feeling empty and rejected, and she was blindly reaching for Mark to try and make it go away.

"I want you more than anything in the world, Addison."

Her face crumbled as tears ran over her bottom lids and her whole body began to shake.

"But you will regret this... and I never want to be something you regret again, especially not when... not when it only helps him hurt you more."

Guiding her head to his shoulder, Mark pulled her against him and Addison dissolved, her body losing the strength to stand as sobs made her slender frame quiver.

"But I also won't leave you, I promise. I'm here."

"Please don't let go!"

Her cry tore at his gut and Mark slipped his arm beneath her knees, pulling her up against him. He moved to the couch and sat down carefully, cradling her to his chest.

"You just hold on to me," he whispered. "I'm here, Addison. I'm right here."[/i]

She had cried for hours, and Mark knew that he'd felt his own tears on his cheeks as he bore witness to Addison's overwhelming grief. But he had not let go, not once. And only when she had fallen asleep in his arms, exhausted from the physical release of sadness and pain, had he finally let her go. Then he had laid her carefully in her bed and pulled her quilt up over from the opposite side to cover her against the slight chill in the room.

Mark remembered staring down at her for a long moment before he had returned to the couch, removed his jacket and tie and laid down to rest so that if Addison needed him again, he would be there.

The next day, she had kissed him, this time absent of hunger, gently on his lips, and thanked him for knowing what she had needed. Then Miranda Bailey and her husband had arrived, and Mark had made a graceful exit, confident he was leaving Addison in good hands.

He hadn't needed her to tell him that she needed some time to recover, a few days with no confusion and no stress. Though he had called Sunday to make sure that she and the baby were both all right following all the emotional upheaval, he had told her that he'd be spending the week setting up his office and finding a place to live, so he was leaving it up to her to call and initiate their next contact.

It would be a lie to say he hadn't hoped every day she would call and ask him to drop by or just say she wanted to talk, but Mark understood, despite the fact that she had never revealed what had happened between she and Derek. Addison would call when she was ready.

He only had to remind himself of that a few times a day.

But when she did call, he had the perfect reason for them to get together. His new loft in the historic district was no Manhattan penthouse, but it was far more "him" than he'd imagined any apartment in Seattle would be. He was almost anticipating a chilly day when he could light the two fireplaces, warm a first-rate takeout dinner in his gourmet kitchen, and treat Addison to a meal in front of the French doors that showcased the fabulous view.

Other than moving, the recently transplanted surgeon was keeping himself busy reorganizing his new office at Seattle Grace, having meetings with his staff to familiarize himself with their methodologies and procedures, and getting to know the interns better. It was no surprise that Alex Karev was already popping up several times a day trying to get assigned to a plastics case. Cristina Yang also seemed very interested in the chance to work with him again. He still had to have a formal meeting with Stevens, who he knew Addison was fond of, O'Malley and, of course, Meredith Grey.

He wondered what exactly Derek was going to have to say about that. Or for that matter, what Derek had to say about his presence at all. His former friend was avoiding him like he might pick up a contagion if he crossed paths with Mark, which suited the plastic surgeon just fine. He wasn't sure he could see Derek without punching him under a general umbrella of "payback for hurting Addison."

He'd try not to. But Mark was making no promises on that front.

Forcing himself to get back to work, and to stop waiting for the phone to ring, Mark decided to go in search of Miranda Bailey to set up interviews with the rest of her interns.

*****

Addison read the slip of paper that was clipped to the manila envelope for a second time.

"Here is the draft of the papers you asked for. Let me know if you want any changes, and we'll finalize before D-day. Colin."

Her lawyer had put the custody papers together in barely 48 hours. "Standard stuff," he'd said. "We won't expect complications unless complications arise."

She didn't have it in her to read them right now. Addison considered it a huge step that she had called and asked for the agreement to begin with. Because it was her absolute admission that it was over... her marriage was over, the divorce would become final, and then she would be faced with telling Derek about the baby and dealing with finding a way to give Baby Girl Shepherd as good a life as she... as they could.

Her amnio was still a few weeks away, but she just had a gut instinct the baby was a girl. She hoped if she was wrong, her son would forgive her for the feminine nickname.

Addison opened her desk drawer and dropped the large envelope inside. She had begun the process of finding a way for her and Derek to share their child. That didn't mean she had to read through the papers today.

Today she had patients to check on. And she had to keep a promise to meet Izzie for coffee after putting the intern off as nicely as she could for a few days while she worked at pulling herself back together. And really, Addison knew she also needed to call Mark and touch base with him, if for no other reason than she knew it was probably making him crazy not to call her.

She also wanted to know how he was doing, how his relocation was working out. Addison wanted to be a good friend to him because he had, at her lowest point, been an unbelievably good friend to her.

Had Mark not kept his promise and held firm to her "friends only" edict, Addison wasn't sure where she'd be right now. As it was, she was a mess emotionally, but at least she could feel herself starting to find some sense of balance and restoration. But she had no clue what might have happened had Mark taken her to bed last Saturday.

She could never remember feeling so empty or so absolutely devoid of her sense of self as she had been that night. And there was no denying that while the combination of seeing Derek and Meredith together and her crushing conversation with her husband had left her right on the brink of breaking, Addison had pushed herself over the edge with the realization of how much of herself she had given up in her attempt to hold on to Derek.

When had she become this woman? That's what she had been thinking as she stood there and listened to him swear that his leaving her had nothing to do with not wanting her or not loving her. When had she become a woman who could stand there and hear those words and not believe them at all and yet still love him so much?

It had made her feel pathetic... needy and pathetic... needy and stupid and pathetic. And those were words she had never imagined would describe her. But Addison had felt all those things, felt them about herself, and she couldn't stand it. She didn't know how to process it. She had just wanted it to stop. She wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her whole so that no one else would see her like this.

Then Mark had found her and taken over, getting her home, allowing her to stay silent even though she could feel how much he wanted to ask what had happened. And then there they were, in her house, in her living room, and she was with the other man who claimed to love her, claimed to want her, who had moved across the country, he'd said, to fight for her.

She had wanted to prove to herself that she wasn't the husk of Addison Shepherd, that she was more than just the remains of the woman Derek had thrown away.

Mark would prove it to her--those were the words that had been screaming through her head as she moved to him and kissed him and pulled him against her. And then he had pulled away, and there had been that excruciating moment when it seemed that Mark, too, despite all his protestations of devotion, was going to reject her as well.

[i]"I want you more than anything in the world, Addison."

"But you will regret this... and I never want to be something you regret again, especially not when... not when it only helps him hurt you more."

"But I also won't leave you, I promise. I'm here."[/i]

Addison had started crying, and for a long time, she hadn't been able to stop crying. Most of the tears had been grief... for her marriage, for the woman she'd let bow down so far she had almost broken in her attempt to save it. But some of the tears had been relief... because when Mark had said he wanted her... when he had put her first and promised not to leave her... she had believed him.

In the morning, she had woken to find herself still in her satin slip dress, wrapped up in her quilt alone in bed. And then she had walked out and seen Mark asleep on her couch.

He hadn't left, just like he'd promised.

She had changed and started a pot of coffee and the aroma had woken Mark up. He had come strolling into the kitchen and just looked at her, wondering if she needed to talk or wanted silence, waiting for her to make the decision.

All she had really thought to do was to walk up and kiss him softly.

[i]"Thank you for being here... and for knowing what I really needed, even if I didn't."[/i]

The doorbell had stopped him from making any reply, and he'd made a fairly hasty exit after saying hello to Miranda and Tucker and little Tuck. He had called to check on her the next day, but Mark hadn't put any pressure on her to talk about what had upset her so much or to talk period. He was... being a good friend. And as much as that surprised her, she was grateful. And now she felt ready to return the favor. So she'd made up her mind. After coffee with Izzie and before she left for home, Addison would call Mark to check in. It was time.

The soft knock on her door drew her attention to the entryway. Addison blinked twice at the sight of Derek standing there. She hadn't seen him once since Friday night. They had exchanged phone messages on cases, but other than that, there had been zero contact. She wasn't sure if his motivation was respect for her wishes or embarrassment over what had happened, but honestly, she didn't care. She felt relieved. It was easier to not see him, to not be reminded of him or their divorce or of all the emotions she was trying to process to get through the situation.

Of course, one reminder of Derek remained constant, and as she stood now to greet him, she was glad she had stayed in her scrubs after surgery today. Despite the fact that she was still far from showing, the extra feeling that her secret was safely hidden helped her face him now with her head held high.

"Hey, Addison, I'm sorry to bother you, but I, uh, wanted to tell you about Harley's surgery."

She nodded and moved around her desk, sitting on the edge of it. Derek came a few steps further into the office, but did not sit down.

"Things went... we made progress, but, um, we're going to have to do a second surgery."

Addison felt her shoulders tense. "A second surgery?"

Derek nodded. "The tumor has compromised some blood vessels. We couldn't do a full removal today without keeping her under for too long, so we'll give her a chance to recover a bit, and then we'll go in and get the rest."

She had no doubt he had made the right decision, but Addison knew that Harley Salton was going to be bitterly disappointed that she had to undergo still another surgery. The woman just wanted to be well and be home with her newborn son, and with Jackson ready to be released, another surgery was going to mean he was headed home without his mother.

"If, uh, if you want me to be there when you talk to her, I could do that," she offered. "I'm not sure how much help it would help, but..."

"No, no, that would be great... if you wouldn't mind."

Derek looked as nervous at that prospect as Addison felt. But Harley was their patient... and she deserved whatever team effort they could put forth to help her.

"I don't mind."

"Okay," he said, his head bobbing once. "Okay."

Addison expected him to leave then, but Derek stood still. Finally she took a deep breath and asked if he needed anything else.

"I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about... about Doc."

Sensing his worry, Addison stood and took a step closer to him. "What? Is he okay?"

"He's... well, he ate my couch."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. "He ate your couch?"

"He did," Derek answered, a slight grin on his face. "Honestly, I wanted to open the door and let him run off, except he really did look pretty cute sitting there in the pile of fluff that used to be my couch."

"Okay, so Doc ate your couch. What does that have to do with me?"

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, the vet says that Doc is... having anxiety attacks. That he went from being abandoned to the pound to Mer--to the interns, to us, and that ours was the first stable home he really became attached to."

"Ah," she said, understanding. "So I moved out and now Doc is..."

"Anxious. He misses you."

Addison felt her mouth curl into a frown. "I thought he'd get over that pretty quickly, if he even noticed. I mean, I assumed you and Meredith... that you guys would be with him at the trailer, so he'd just... adjust, I guess."

"Yeah, um... we haven't actually been out at the trailer a lot. And, you know, O'Malley and Stevens, they still aren't willing to have Doc back at the house full-time, so..."

Derek fell silent, and Addison could tell he wasn't going to jump into whatever he wanted to ask with both feet. So she asked for him.

"So is there something you wanted me to do to help with this?"

He sighed, clearly relieved that she'd opened the door. "The vet thinks it would be good for Doc to spend some time with you. I mean, whatever you want... I can bring him to you or I can ask Stevens to do it, you know, if you don't want me... whatever would work for you. But he thinks it will help."

Doc was, technically, Meredith and Derek's dog, and it was a fact Addison had never lost sight of. But he was a great dog and she loved him, too, and the thought of him being upset because she and Derek had broken up his home made Addison heartsick. Still, she wasn't at all sure she wanted to be involved in this if it meant a lot of contact with Derek alone or together with his girlfriend.

"Did you talk to Meredith about this?" she asked. "I mean, about her dog coming to have visits with me?"

His non-response gave her the answer. Addison walked back to her chair and sank down into it.

"Okay, if Doc needs us to do this sharing thing for his well-being, I'd like to help. But you need to talk to Meredith and make sure she's okay with it. And I will talk to Izzie and see if she minds bringing him from their house to mine... say on weekends? He could stay weekends with me till he feels better. My yard is fenced in and the house is unpacked thanks to Miranda and Tucker, so it should be fine."

Derek crossed his arms in front of himself and looked down at the floor. Addison waited, unwilling to move forward until she had his assurance that he would meet her condition.

"Okay, I'll talk to her about it tonight. Why don't you, uh, call me once you talk to Stevens?"

Addison nodded. "Okay, will do. And just page me when you're ready to meet with Harley."

"I will."

Derek turned and walked out of the office and Addison leaned back in her chair and displaced a lock of her hair with a large huff of air from her mouth.

She had lived. And now the next time wouldn't be so hard. And eventually, seeing him wouldn't hurt anymore at all.

Her hand slid to her stomach.

For all their sakes, she hoped that eventually came very, very soon.

Commentary?

Contact the author