I'm not really sure where this came from other than my own sort of angsty feelings of late.  I challenged myself to write around where Addison is storywise right now rather than hand-selecting a pairing for this one, so fair warning, there are Addison/Noah leanings herein.

1.  Connecticut

There's no explanation to her mother other than "I don't feel well."  Addison simply mumbles the words, her shoulders slumped, her head hanging, and no one questions her as she makes her way upstairs with her school sweater dragging behind her.  She wishes she could trip on it, fall down the stairs.  Maybe if she got hurt badly enough, her father would stop what he's doing and come home and try to make them a better family.  But she doesn't trip.  She knows he wouldn't really come home, and more than likely, Bizzy would disappear, too... needing a "rest" from the strain of "caring" for her poor injured, clumsy daughter. 

Archer is in his room with the stereo blaring, and Addison makes no move to knock or to go to him for help.  What can he say that he hasn't already said a dozen times?  The only person who can say something to make it better is too busy chasing a 22-year-old blonde around his desk.  And she doesn't believe his promises anymore anyway.

She feels dirty.  Seeing her father with his hand up that woman's skirt made her feel sick and she had to go to the bathroom and throw up, and even though she didn't get any on her clothes, Addison feels dirty.  So she goes into her bathroom and finds the bubble bath Archer got her for her birthday when she asked for something "girlie" and she fills up the tub with bubbles and water.

It feels good, the heat almost burning her skin, and Addison closes her eyes and listens to the bubbles crackling softly as they fight a losing battle against the water for survival.  Even though she doesn't scrub, the steaming water and the fizzy soap help her feel like the ick of the day has soaked off her skin, even if it's just been added to the box of icky feelings she carries around inside of her because there's nothing else to be done with them.

Mongtomerys keep their secrets.  It's what they do.  Bizzy had told her, so had Archer, so had her father.  So she'd keep hers even when they made her have to run to the bathroom and throw up or when she had to lie to her mother and say everything was fine when what really she wanted to do was scream "why don't you just leave him?!  Don't you see what he's doing?!"

She's just getting ready for bed when the phone rings, but Addison ignores it, assuming it's for her mother or that it's some girl calling for Archer.  So when her brother knocks on the door and says "Dad wants to talk to you," she's surprised, and she can't really say anything.  Archer motions to the princess phone on her nightstand, and she moves for it without thinking about doing it.  But before she lifts the receiver, before she says, "hello, this is Addison," she picks up the whole phone and carries it into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.  The long cord strains as she steps into the now dry tub, her little pink cotton gown mushrooming to cover her feet as she sits down against the marble with her knees pulled into her chest.

"Hello, this is Addison."

"Hi, sweetheart.  It's Daddy.  Look, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.  You know... since you weren't feeling too good today when you left the office."

She knows the code.  "You didn't say anything to your mother, did you?"

"I'm better now." "No, I didn't tell her.  You hurt her enough for both of us."

"Good, good.  What do you say we go shopping on Saturday, just the two of us?  I'll buy you something really pretty to cheer you up."  "I'll buy you something expensive if you stay quiet, and you won't mind if one of my friends comes along, just for fun, right?"

"Sure, Daddy.  I'm gonna go to bed now, okay?" "I'd rather stay home alone, but you'll make me go, so I'll pretend I don't hate it... or hate you."

"Okay, pretty girl.  I love you."

Addison hangs up the phone without a response.  Some lies are too big to tell.

2.  New York

She wonders about the crazy hopeful moment that made her buy the theater tickets in the first place.  Why did she think it would make a difference that it was a revival of one of Derek's favorite shows ("Glengarry Glen Ross," for the record) or that she'd given him two months notice with reminders a month ago, two weeks ago and two days ago?  Addison knows she's lucky if she can get him to sit down for a meal that doesn't involve his entire family, so expecting an entire evening was clearly a sign of insanity.

When she woke up this morning to find his side of the bed empty, she'd known there would be no date night, no chance to try and rekindle the spark they seemed to have lost somewhere during the last two years of their marriage in a slow trickle that had hidden it from her until it felt like his affection had already dwindled to the emotional equivalent of a drought.  Her suspicions were confirmed not by any direct statement from Derek that he couldn't make it tonight but by the absence of any apology for not making it home or for not calling to say he wouldn't be home.  All that met her at the hospital was a quick voice mail on her office line saying he'd "try" to make it home on time today.

Resigned, Addison phoned Nancy and asked if she wanted the tickets.  Her sister-in-law's sympathetic "are you sure?" made her feel nauseous, but Addison simply said yes and then she dropped the orchestra seat tickets into a manila envelope and left them at the nurses' station.  Before she left home for the day with little more than a passing glance shared with her husband, Addison went by Derek's locker and left a note with the address of the theater and a start time.  Then she made her way to the mom-and-pop diner four blocks from the hospital that made the best macaroni and cheese on earth.  Tonight was a night for comfort food... for comfort period.

Two glasses of merlot and half a container of mac and cheese after her arrival home, Addison glanced at the clock.  She'd had some dim hope that Derek would see her note, realize he'd forgotten their plans and race off to find her.  Then he'd call when he couldn't locate her at the theater, and she'd say, "I thought you'd forgotten again," and maybe then they could've had the conversation they'd been not having for too long... the one about how far apart they were drifting and how they were going to fix it.  But the hands on the expensive timepiece on the mantel told her that the curtain had already gone up on tonight's performance... and come down, it seemed, on the last glimmer of a chance she could see.

The hot water steamed in the bathtub, and she set her glass of wine on one corner of the large marble tub, her cell phone on another, and sank down into the lavender-scented bubbles.  She would have never believed this if someone had told her it was possible... if someone had suggested that Derek and Addison could become Addison waiting alone for Derek over and over again.  Had she done something to make him want to be away from her?  Was there something about her that made him need the distance that opened deeper and wider every day?  Was there anything at all that might make it better or was she supposed to just say "I'm done" and walk away from the man she still loved more than her own life?

The cell phone ring made her heart flutter, but one glance at the caller I.D. screen told her that no salvation was waiting on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Mark."

"Hey, Addison.  I went past the board on my way out and I saw Derek just started a craniotomy about an hour ago.  You want to hang out or something?"

"No.  No, thanks.  I'm in for the night.  But thanks for thinking about me."

"Anytime.  Talk to you tomorrow."

She hung up and put the phone back in its place and then Addison took a long sip of wine.

She knew how the rest of this went without even thinking about it.  Derek would finish his late surgery--one no doubt snatched from the hands of an eager resident who had craved it--and he would be too tired to come home, so he'd make his way to an on-call room and crash for a few hours.  It wouldn't be until the early morning when he saw her note and realized he had once again failed to show up for some activity he'd have been overjoyed at a few years earlier.  There would be white roses in her office or presented grandly at the nurses' desk, and he'd apologize and swear it would never happen again.  And Addison would accept the flowers and the apology and she'd say, "But, Derek, we really need to talk.  Please make the time."  And he'd say, "I know.  I will.  I promise."

But it wouldn't happen.  They'd just keep going.  Except her belief that she could hold on forever was slipping, and Addison was starting to wonder how many more nights she could spend alone in their home waiting for a husband who seemed to always want to be somewhere else.

3.  Seattle

The one good thing about the final implosion of her marriage was that it gave Addison the freedom to leave behind the woods and that godforsaken trailer once and for all.  The Archfield might not be home, but it has Egyptian cotton sheets and a bathtub big enough for two people, and she can walk more than two steps without looking down to see what kind of creatures are slinking in the grass waiting to strike out at her feet.

She's not attached to it, but still, it feels odd to know she's on a final countdown, that she'll be packing up and shipping her things to California soon and finally, the chapter of her life known as "Addison and Derek fall apart" will be over.  Because when she took an honest look at her life in this city that she never wanted to move to, she realized that the only good reason to stay had been saving her marriage.  And now that it was finished, so was she... with the rain and with lecherous ex-lovers and with overly handsome interns who made her heart do stupid things despite her good common sense.

"I'm bored," came the sound of Callie's voice as Addison negotiated her cell phone off the shelf that the Archfield had conveniently installed less than an arm's length away from the bathtub, where Addison was currently enjoying the tension-relieving properties of the Jacuzzi jets.

Addison laughed at her friend.  "Where's the husband?"

"Following Bailey around on an extra shift because he's so freaked out about not passing his intern exam, which... I'm proud of him for dealing with it head-on, but still... bored.  What are you doing?"

"Taking a bath.  I really missed long, hot baths when I was living in Derek Land."

Callie laughed.  "I still can't believe you lived out there.  That was some serious guilt you were carrying over the Mark thing, huh?"

It would be nice, Addison thinks, if she could say that guilt was the main motivator because at least that makes sense.  But really, she'd still loved her husband, despite her massive screw-up, and she'd honestly been willing to do anything to... well, those were useless thoughts, so she pushed them aside.

"Cal, I need to tell you something," she said, changing the subject.  But instead of a query about what her news was, Callie sighed heavily on the other end of the line.

"You're moving to California."

Addison sat up straighter, truly shocked.  "How do you know?"  I haven't told anyone yet."

"Your face when you came back.  You're too sad here.  I get it.  I hate it, and I wish you could be happy here, but I get it.  I was just waiting for you to bring it up."

"Don't be mad, okay?  I just... need to go."

"Yeah," Callie agreed, "I know.  Just... don't disappear, okay?  Promise?  I'm kinda all on my own here--the freak in the land of perfect interns, and it helps a lot that the hot, gorgeous, brilliant attending decided she likes me."

Addison laughed, but her heart ached because she was going to miss her new friend, and yet she couldn't voice it because then they'd both start crying, and she didn't want Callie to be as sad as she was.

"You want to get a drink?  Because really... I'm so tired of sitting in this room and thinking about all the reasons why I need to move away and start over."

"I can be ready in twenty minutes," came Callie's reply.  "And wear something hot.  I may not be able to pick up cute guys for me anymore, but maybe I can find one for you.  He'll be a going away gift."

With a promise to be on time and dressed in something appropriately hot, Addison hung up the phone and set it back on the shelf.  But she didn't get out of the water right away.  Instead, she took a deep breath and let out the tears she'd been holding inside for days because a part of her had really feared that no one would care that she was leaving.

It's nice to know she's wrong, even if it doesn't change the fact that she really does have to go.

4. Los Angeles

It's a call she waited months for, and the fact that it comes on a night when she feels completely incapable of handling it is just par for her life as far as Addison is concerned.  Seriously... all the times she practically willed the phone to ring, ready to have whatever conversation they were going to have, and Derek picks this night to call?

It helps that she's in her tub with a view of the full moon illuminating her California view, but the water isn't nearly as hot as she likes it because her whole life is about compromises right now, and that's one of them.  But at least the water is warm enough to feel comforting as she finally picks up her cell.

"Hey."

It's all she can manage because it's been seven months since she last spoke with Derek, and she knows that he fell apart after Jen died and almost quit his job, and she knows about George and Izzie because Miranda and Callie and Richard have all kept her in the loop.  She knows he and Meredith eloped shortly after their friends died thanks to Mark, who didn't want her to hear it from anyone else, and she knows via her weekly phone calls to check on Alex that despite his earlier attempts to empty out Casa de Grey, Derek said nothing when it took the heartbroken resident months to find a new place to live.  She knows a lot about his life since he saved her brother for her before hubris tore Derek in half, and he knows nothing about hers because she won't let their friends tell him.

"So... I should've called before this.  I know that.  I just..."

He goes silent, and she waits because it's his dime, and she's too tired to try hard for anybody else right now.  Her own life takes too much energy, and her reserves are low.

"I wanted to be right.  I know you were doing what you thought was best for Jen and the baby and for me... but I couldn't be wrong, not after I'd already made a mistake.  I'm sorry."

It takes her an extra beat to say anything because she knows him too well, and there was a very real chance he'd never apologize, and Addison didn't know how they'd ever speak again much less work together if he couldn't.  But now it's done, that simply, and months of worry can be shoved into that box inside of her where Derek-related things are kept.

"I heard you and Meredith got married.  Congratulations."

"See, I should've called sooner just for that.  I can't wait to tell my mother you said it and meant it.  She'll never believe me, of course, but I want her to know you did it anyway.  I owe you that."

A small laugh ripples out of her, and she can totally picture Carolyn's face when her son tells her that story.  But the amusement fades quickly because even if she's long past missing "Addison and Derek" and the sometimes prickly embrace of the Shepherd family, the idea of just how alone she is right now is suddenly overwhelming, and she holds her hand over the mouthpiece hoping that Derek can't hear her start to cry.

"Addie?"

She used to be better at this... at covering up the tears and the hurt, especially with him.  But her control mechanisms have evaporated lately, and of course Derek would choose now to start paying attention.

"What's going on, Addie?"

"Nothing," she says quickly, but she hears him sigh in response.

"I've asked Richard, Bailey and Torres a half dozen times if they've heard from you, and all they ever say is, 'uh-huh, she's fine.'  I ask Mark and he shrugs and says, 'yeah, she's good.'  So are you fine, Addison?  Are you good?  Because you don't sound fine... or good."

The exhaustion and the lack of control and the odd sensation of having Derek notice her again all combines to defeat any effort she might make to keep hiding how fine she isn't, and so Addison gives up and let's her hand drop from the phone receiver to the rounded top of her belly, which is just big enough to peek out through the water in the full tub.

"I'm pregnant.  I'm pregnant even though I shouldn't be because Noah Barnes has some sort of super science-defying swimmers who managed to help me make a baby.  Noah, by the way, is this crazy perfect heart surgeon who made me fall in love with him and didn't bother to tell me he was married.  Miserably married, but married nonetheless, with a wife who happened to be my pregnant patient.  So now I'm totally Meredith Grey, Derek.  Except knocked up and all alone because after he left her, she started to fall apart, and so I told him to go back.  And he went."

She needs to breathe, which is why she stops.  The crying is harder now, sobbing really, and her chest hurts, and the pain of having to let Noah go after finally starting believe he was hers is too strong again.  He hadn't wanted to go, not really.  But his son was in the middle of Morgan unraveling, and it was Noah's responsibility to step in and make it better, at least as far as she was concerned.  No matter how their affair had begun, he was a better man than her father.  Better men saved their children from heartache.  And Noah had gone back home to help Morgan deal with the divorce and to make sure Matthew was safe and loved and nurtured.  It was what she'd want him to do for their baby.  He couldn't give Matthew any less.  But knowing that wasn't making living without him any easier.

"You think I'm awful, don't you?"

"I think... I think sometimes you wonder why things happen, and then later, you figure it out.  You figure out that when you can't move yourself forward, life has a way of doing it for you, even if it's messy and awful in the moment."

"I'm just... tired of moving forward alone, Derek.  I'm so, so tired."

And she feels it, so deeply that sometimes she honestly doesn't know how she's going to deal with one more thing going wrong.

"You should come home."

The words draw a fresh wave of tears out of her, and she struggles to keep her hold on the phone.

"You're not responsible for fixing me anymore, remember?  You have a new wife to do that for."

His soft chuckle makes her smile even as more teardrops race down her cheeks.

"Let Mark be jealous and threaten to kick this Noah guy's ass.  Let Callie and Bailey fuss over you, and Richard can try to bribe you to stay with surgeries that Karev will totally keep away from the other residents."

The picture he's painting suddenly sounds like heaven on Earth.  She can't deny it.  It's such an incredibly tempting idea.

"You came here for me.  You stayed for me.  And I know I said it was mine, but... it's yours, too.  Come home, Addie."

She's thinking it over when her baby... she hasn't found out if it's a boy or a girl yet... kicks.  And Addison moves her fingers in circles around her belly, soothing the child she had given up hope of having until suddenly it was on its way.  They need a little peace.  That said peace might be found in Seattle, a city she was convinced hated her, is surely just fate laughing at her.

"Okay, I'll come home."

5. Los Angeles II

When she first moved to L.A., the rain made Addison insane.  She'd just left the blah of the Seattle rain, and the first time her sun disappeared behind black clouds, she'd had what could safely be described as a tantrum.  But the rain here was different.  It came and it went and even the worst of storms eventually had an end.  The wet didn't hang over you the way it did further north, and the sun was always determined to get back out into the sky as soon as it was over, and it made you feel the way that first thing to make you laugh after a good cry did.  The sun came out, and you knew things would get better.

The rain tonight was one of those downpours California was famous for.  The onslaught sent hillsides crashing down and flooded expensive streets and houses just to prove that it could.  But while her home was getting pounded by the nonstop rainfall, it was safe from any fits of nature, and the main reason it was on her mind at all was the effect it was having on her six-month-old baby's ability to sleep.

"I know, I know, sweet pea.  It's a lot of noise.  But Mommy's got you, okay?"

Aubrey Carson Montgomery Barnes was not inclined to take her mother's word for it that everything was, in fact, okay.  Her little face remained scrunched up with dismay over the mysterious and upsetting sounds outside, and she pulled on her mother's robe and hair and let out a loud screech to communicate just how uncertain she was.

"Oh, I know, honey.  But Mommy's gonna make it all better.  I promise."

Addison headed into the bathroom with her little girl keeping a death grip on her shoulder and turned on the taps to fill the tub.  She stooped down and used one hand to flip open the jar of all natural oatmeal bath soak Derek's sisters swore by.  Once the bath was well under way, she moved to the iPod that now lived on the vanity shelf and chose Aubrey's playlist.  The baby's cries calmed slightly as one of her uncle Preston's favorite Eugene Foot songs began to filter into the room through the speakers, the rain disappearing into the background as the music's audio took over the atmosphere.

"See?  I told you Mommy could fix it.  Yeah, that's better now, huh?"

With a few well-practiced moves, Addison removed Aubrey's sleeper and diaper and her own bathrobe, and after quickly turning off the taps, she used the support rail Sam had insisted, as godfather, was now a requirement in the bathroom, to help ease her and her daughter into the water.  Nearly the minute the baby's toes came into contact with the warm liquid, the crying stopped, and when Addison moved the little girl away from her slightly, she saw tears on cheeks that were now arched in a smile.

"Oh, and now that she's in the water, Aubrey doesn't have anything to cry about, does she?"

From the day of Aubrey's first bathtub bath, it had been clear that mother and daughter shared their affinity for a nice, comforting warm soak.  Every time Addison and Naomi had moved to take the month-old baby out of the water, she had screamed like they were torturing her.  So it had become their thing to soak together just before bedtime... or in an emergency late at night like tonight... to relax and have some alone time.

It didn't take long for the music and the oatmeal bath and the warm water to start to have the desired effect on the baby, and Addison rubbed circles on her back, lulling her daughter to sleep.

"You know what happens after the rain, Aubrey?  There's a rainbow.  And it's so pretty, and it has all these beautiful colors in it.  And the air feels all clean, and the sky will be so blue, it'll almost look like your eyes.  And the sun... the sun will be so bright.  And Aubrey and Mommy are gonna go out and dance in the sand, and you won't even remember all that silly noise."

Sometimes when she sat with the baby this way, Addison wondered if anyone had ever done something like this for her.  Archer had been too little to be her protector when she was born, and it was hard to imagine either of her parents giving up sleep or a night out on the town or, in her father's case, a night in the city with one of his mistresses, to sit around in a bathtub with a baby in their arms. 

Her cell phone buzzed gently from the edge of the tub, and Addison smiled, sure of who it was before she even answered.

"We're in the tub," she whispered, careful not to rouse her sleeping child.

Noah sighed.  "I was worried the storm would scare her."

"Total freak out, but some soft music, a little oatmeal bath, and she's all better now."

"And how's my big girl doing?"

Addison paused before answering.  They were... she still wasn't sure what, exactly.  He was divorced now, and Morgan was settled into her life with Matthew, and Noah was good about spending time with his son and he was an incredible father to Aubrey.  And Noah loved her, and she loved him, but Addison still wasn't sure she believed they were going to make it.  She hoped... but she just wasn't sure, and she often wondered if that was real doubt or her own ghosts trying to keep her from being happy.

"Tired.  I'm about to put us back to bed."

"Okay, well, I'm finally out of surgery.  I'm just gonna do a post-op check and then I'll head home."

"No, you should stay there.  The roads are awful, Noah.  They were showing all kinds of flooding on the news.  And as busy as the E.R. is, they'll probably just page you the second you get here."

"I hate not being there when Aubrey wakes up."

It was Addison's turn to sigh.  She knew that feeling well.

"Stay there, get some sleep and stay off the roads.  The rain's supposed to stop in a few hours.  We'll come have breakfast with you before we head to the office."

She knew he didn't want to give in, but he would, because he hated it when she worried.  And that was why she hoped so much that they would make it... because it felt amazing to have someone care whether she was worried, to want to do something to make her fears ease or her worry lessen.

"Give her a kiss from daddy, and tell her I love her.  I'll give you your kiss in the morning.  And I love you."

"Love you.  Night."

A few moments after ending the call, Addison used the support to help her stand up, and then she wrapped a large bath sheet around herself and Aubrey before she sat down on the edge of the tub to dry them both off a bit.  Then she headed out to her bed and the fresh diaper and sleeper she had waiting there. 

Before she climbed beneath the covers, Addison hit play on the iPod on the nightstand (they'd invested in several to keep music throughout the house at the ready), and Aubrey's playlist began anew at a volume just loud enough to help drown out the still pounding rain.  Then, moving carefully, Addison laid down and repositioned Aubrey so she was laying on her chest, safely tucked under the cozy bedding.

Addison placed a whisper-soft kiss on her daughter's head, and then Aubrey let out a deep breath in that way that only a sleeping baby can.  Her fingers curled into the fabric of her mother's robe and then relaxed again, as if she'd just been checking to make sure her mama was still where she was supposed to be.  It was a reflex Addison hoped was about her baby learning to trust and not a sign that she'd passed her own fear of being left alone onto her child.  It was bad enough she'd been wrestling that demon her whole life.  She wasn't about to watch her daughter do the same.

"I love you, sweet pea.  Mommy loves you so much.  I hope you always know that."

She hoped... and Addison knew that it was the best she could do.  She hoped Aubrey would never feel alone... that she and Noah were forever... that ghosts eventually faded away.  She hoped that happy endings were possible when no one had ever taught you to believe that you deserved them.