The Never-Ending Repost
A week has passed and the trauma, though not the heartbreak, from the Grey's Anatomy finale perhaps with it. How can Queen Shonda not see that the better, more interesting storyline is Derek and Addison? All I can say is may Derek and Meredith both get what they deserve.... and I'll leave it the imagination what I think that might be.

Oh well, here's chapters 13-14 of Cracks and Foundations, my Addison and Derek opus. I should perhaps warn readers, in case I haven't made it clear already, that I like angst?

Feedback and advice is more than welcome!


Chapter 13



Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Still don't own them. Really.

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Addison Shepherd woke up feeling different than she had in a long time.

For one thing, she realized she was naked in her husband’s arms, her green negligee having been discarded in their initial bout of friendly, teasing lovemaking. Her husband had one hand buried in her hair and the other around her waist; their legs were intertwined as well. If she had wanted to move, she would have had a difficult time doing so without waking Derek.

It felt good to wake up like this, having slept skin to skin, so close to one another, almost as if they were once again two halves of a whole.

And to remember the night before.

Her sexy surprise had kicked off a humorous game of “doctor” and Derek and Addison had been careful to thoroughly examine one another everywhere from the tips of their toes to the tops of their heads -- and all the more fun parts in between.

The exams had been teasing and lighthearted as they rediscovered each other in a way that they had not in a long time. No angst, no anger, no stress. Just good, old-fashioned tactile fun, culminating in a couple of mindblowing explosions during which they called each other’s names.

They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

A few hours later Addison had woken up to Derek kissing his way along her body, a more leisurely exploration. The second that Derek realized that he had lured her to conciousness, he whispered that he loved her and that he would always love her.

Addison returned the sentiments.

The second time the Shepherds made love was no less thorough, but far more tender and more emotional. It was as if each was trying to coat their partner’s skin in the emotion, in the love, in the caring, in the devotion, in the commitment. And the end result was far more powerful, the emotion bringing tears to both Shepherds’ eyes.

Another reason this morning felt different was that there was no dog begging to be let out. As much as she loved Doc, and she did, it was great to be able to lie in in the morning without worrying about whether it was her turn or Derek’s to take him out.

And coupled with no Doc was no trailer.

Addie cast her eyes around the beautifully decorated room of the bed and breakfast to which she had been whisked and felt a slight pang that she couldn’t move in.

She missed living in a real house with real walls, with closet space, and a bathroom with a tub. A place where plugging in both the hairdryer and the curling iron would not blow out the fusebox. A place where there was room for more of her infamous shoe collection.

She understood that Derek thought they had too many material possessions in New York, but she thought a happy compromise could be fashioned that involved something with real closet space.

And although there wasn’t a kitchen in their B&B room, Addie missed the kitchen from their New York home. Both she and Derek liked to cook when they found time, but she found it too frustrating to even attempt it in the trailer with the absence of practical things like counterspace and a full-sized fridge.

But, she reminded herself, if she really and truly had Derek back, she could live without all the rest. She had learned to live in the trailer. She could be content in a trailer.

If the choice was between a house or a husband, there was no choice to be made.

Addison Forbes Montgomery Shepherd had learned in the past few years that there was only one thing necessary to her life, to her happiness.

Her husband, Derek.

Everything else was just window dressing. If she had Derek back, she could find a way to be happy, even in a trailer.

The final reason that the morning felt different was that there was no work to worry about, no pager likely to bring in emergencies. That was a good thing because it would allow Addie and Derek to concentrate on each other and not to use the hospital – their patients and their surgeries – as a shield when the going gets tough.

But, on the other hand, Addie mused that the absence of a shield might not be such a good thing.

Despite the love, the surprises, the tenderness, the joy, the passion of the day before, Addie could not help but worry.

While she was more certain than she had been since coming to Seattle that Derek loved her and wanted their marriage to work, she knew they had lots of elephants inhabiting the bed and breakfast with them. They were simply going to have to confront them.

And she was terrified that confronting them might send Derek running away once again. She was determined that they would build their second life together on honesty, on a strong foundation, but she was simply afraid of what needed to be done to get there.

What would happen when she told Derek that she stayed with Mark when he left New York?

Or that Mark had specifically asked her to come back to New York with him during his recent visit to Seattle?

What would he say when she asked him about his secret walks with Meredith?

Did he still love the intern?

What had prompted the sudden romance of recent days?

“Good morning, beautiful.” A familiar voice interrupted Addie’s introspection. She turned and smiled and kissed Derek good morning, pushing her serious thoughts aside. “Good morning, handsome.”

A few hours later, Addie and Derek by mutual agreement had gotten up, showered, and gone down to breakfast – where they playfully fought over the front page and then the crossward puzzle. After stuffing themselves with the B&B’s infamous stuffed french toast, fruit, bacon and coffee, they agreed that a walk was in order.

They wandered through downtown Victoria, doing some window shopping but mostly enjoying the fresh air and exploring the city. They read historical markers, poked through a few antique shops, and generally relaxed.

After a few hours of fresh air, Derek and Addie bought themselves some coffee and a small snack and settled together on a bench overlooking the Olde Towne Square. They people watched in silence, but they both could feel the ghosts of marital issues past, present, and future arriving for a visit.

Derek rubbed Addie's hand in his own, feeling its softness and its strength. He rubed his thumb against her wedding rings, and thought about what they symbolized. And then he decided how to start.

"I have a proposal," he said, continuing to worry her hand in his own.

Addie shifted her body on the bench, so she could look her husband directly in the eyes. Derek reached out with his other hand and tucked away a flyaway curl, placing it securely behind her ear. He lay his hand against her cheek, feeling its softness as she examined his visage.

Casting aside her own memory of a much happier proposal a dozen years ago and her deep-rooted fear that confronting their issues might make Derek disappear again, Addie nodded, signaling him to continue.

"We both know that there are things we need to talk about," Derek paused. "I don't know how we got through months of therapy without really addressing the important stuff, but we both know that we need to. . . . I don't think we can handle doing it all at once, and I don't want to let our . . . issues . . . ruin this weekend, because I think -- no, I know -- that it's also important for us to spend good time together, just Derek and Addison, building new happy memories together. . . . We can't ignore our issues, but we also can't let them run our lives."

"So what I thinkwe should do is have designated conversation times. Maybe in the middle of the afternoon, like now. We should talk about issues, one at a time, for as long as we need to . . . or as long as we can stand it."

"And, we should agree now, ahead of time, that when we are done with a 'session,' we should take a mandatory break from each other."

"A break?" Addie asked nervously, biting her lip. All she could think of was the last break Derek had taken from her, a break that involved moving across the country without so much as a word and falling in love with another woman. "What kind of break?"

"I'm thinking three hours . . . just enough time to allow ourselves, our minds and our hearts, to process whatever we've been talking about in a productive way. . . . We talk, and then we go our separate ways for three hours, and we meet back at the B&B."

"What are we going to do with three hours?" Addie had a feeling she knew what she would be doing. Worrying that Derek was not coming back

"Whatever we need to do to get past -- or at least put temporarily to rest -- what we've talked about, to not let it infect the rest of our time together. Or, find some way to distract ourselves while the other one goes and does that and we just worry."

"So we're supposed to just get past it in three hours? What if one of us says something so horrible . . . that the other one can't get past it? What if. . . ?

Derek cut her off, holding her hand even more tightly.

"First of all, Addie, we both want this to work. I know I do. And I know you do. . . . And, I know it's hard, but you have to trust me on this."

Addie stared at him for a minute, eyes meeting eyes, soul meeting soul. She took a deep breath. And she jumped. And she nodded.

"I know you're worried, because maybe we don't have the best track record. . . . I'm not saying that whatever issue we're discussing will magically be gone, but we have to start somewhere . . . so we can truly get past the past and build a new and better future together. . . . And the B&B can be our non-issues place. We can go back there early if we're ready, but whatever happens we agree now that we must be back there within three hours, ready to put whatever it is aside until our next talk."

Derek watched as Addie bit her lip again, a sure sign that she was terrified.

"And," he continued, "I am promising you now that no matter what happens, no matter what we say or what emotions our talks dredge up, I am promising you that I love you, I am committed to you, and I will see you in three hours."

Addie pulled away, just far enough so she could look Derek directly in the eye. She saw his love there, his commitment -- and his fear. And she took another deep breath. And she nodded again.

"Where do we start?"

Derek took a deep breath of his own.

"I know that this isn't going to be easy . . . for either of us. And I know this is far from the only thing we have to talk about. . . . But I think we have to start with Mark."



Chapter 14



"But I think we have to start with Mark."

Addie heard the words come out of Derek's mouth, and she let her head drop, her hair falling forward to cover her face, to shield her for a moment.

She knew that Derek was right, that Mark was a big giant open wound in the middle of their marriage. There was plenty to discuss there.

Yet, Addie couldn't help be scared, because if there was anything that was guaranteed to send Derek fleeing to another continent, it had to be her affair with Mark, her betrayal of their wedding vows, of the sanctity of their marital bed.

She took another deep breath, trying to prepare herself for whatever might come, and raised her eyes.

"How do you want to do this? Do you want to ask questions? Should I just talk?"

Derek could see the fear in her eyes – and the courage that his wife had to face him and pull out little pieces of herself and pray that he wouldn't reject her again. He gave her a wry smile, one that he hoped was reassuring, and he rubbed again the hand that he still had encapsulated in his own.

It was hard to reassure her when he was trying to shore up his own strength for the conversation ahead, but he had asked her to go first, and he knew she was afraid, regardless of the promises he had made. And that she would plunge forward anyway.

She had that kind of bravery, that kind of integrity, despite everything.

"Why don't you start at the beginning? If I have questions, I'll ask, but otherwise I'll just try to listen . . . to really listen."

Addison bit her lip again, as she deliberated where exactly to start. It was starting to hurt, but it was almost a welcome pain, because it was minor and real, a distraction from her thoughts.

Then she looked up, and reached out one hand to touch Derek's cheek, as if to confirm that he was there, that he really was listening.

"I always loved you, Derek. I have to start there. So you know, before we really get into it that you are and always were the love of my life.” She looked him straight in the eyes, tears glistening, but not yet falling, as if she was willing them back. “And I never was in love with Mark, not for a second. I love you, and I will always love you. No matter what."

She stopped after that beginning, making sure that Derek could see that that was the absolute unvarnished truth. She needed that foundation, needed to know that Derek heard her before she could go forward.

Derek looked up, and she could see the pain in his eyes, but he was willing to meet her gaze. And he nodded, his face stoic, as if he was prepared to take a punch, and she went on.

"Mark was your best friend, and he was always around, and so he became my friend, too. And for years, that was all it was. We were friends, and mostly the three of us would hang out, either at the hospital or whenever we could find five minutes to escape together. Sometimes whatever woman Mark was seeing at the time would make it a foursome, but, as you well know, they never seemed to last. And you and I, we would tease him about it, about his serial monogamy, his inability to commit. Mostly, we were just the three amigos."

Derek nodded. He knew this was the easy part.

"And then more and more, it seemed like it was just Mark and me. Not intentionally, but the three of us would make plans, and then there’d be a surgery that you just couldn’t miss, and Mark and I would decide to do whatever we’d planned anyway – go for dinner, catch a movie. It was just as friends. . . . And it didn’t seem odd because we were friends and it was no different then the times when you and Mark went out, either intentionally or because I got called into a delivery or a surgery of my own. It was just the way a friendship between three doctors worked. . . . Inevitably, someone wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“But more and more, it seemed like Mark was there and that you weren’t. . . . I know this sounds like me trying to excuse what happened, but,” she shook her head, and Derek watched with fascination as her hair moved, “that’s not what I mean. There is no excuse. This is just an explanation, an account of events from my perspective, and I know it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make what I did any less horrible, any less atrocious, . . . any more forgivable.”

“I found myself missing you more and more, and I didn’t seem to know how to get you back, to lure you away from the hospital long enough to spend time with me. When I tried, I felt like I was bothering you, nagging you, getting in the way of your career. I felt like I was losing you, that you didn’t want to be with me, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Mark was there again. He was my friend. He was sometimes my shoulder to cry on, my sounding board. And he always reassured you that this would pass, that you loved me. But I couldn’t help how I felt -- unwanted, unneeded, unloved.”

“The night you walked in on us was the first time we had sex. I had no idea then that Mark had feelings for me beyond those of friendship. . . . I was just really upset and really drunk, a bad combination.”

“The three of us were supposed to have dinner at Rosarita’s and then you didn’t show because of some surgery. We waited for you, but you didn’t bother to even call, or to have someone call, to say you weren’t showing up. And while we were waiting, Mark and I polished off the pitcher of margaritas we had ordered. And then, after we gave up waiting and ordered food, we polished off another one. Not the smartest decision. I was too drunk to really navigate the subway system, and Mark, though he seemed equally drunk, was gallant and told me he would take me home by cab. . . . He came up, and then he kissed me. And one thing led to another, and . . . then you walked in.”

Derek closed his eyes and tried to will away the picture in his head.

Mark’s jacket in his house.

Mark’s body in his bed. With his wife.

Mark’s hands and Mark’s lips on Addison.

He tried to will the picture away so he could just hear Addison’s words.

Addison watched Derek scrunch his face, as if by sheer force of will the past could be undone. But life simply wasn’t magical in that way. What she had done could not be undone, not by force of will or magic or anything else. And she knew that just as it was ripping her heart, her soul in two to recount the biggest mistake of her life, that it was destroying Derek to hear it.

She loved him for wanting them to find their way through the pain back to each other. She feared that their effort would backfire. Nevertheless, she knew she had to go on.

She had to get it all out – whatever the consequences.

“And then you left. I grabbed the nearest clothes and tried to chase you, but I simply wasn’t fast enough. And I went back crying, and Mark was there, but I kicked him out and lay their crying and praying that you would come back. But you didn’t. . . . And you vanished. . . .”

“When you disappeared, I fell apart. I didn’t know where you were, what you were doing. Not just that night, but for days to come. . . . As if I wasn’t already a mess. About all I could handle was the work, so I worked as much as I possibly could, until Beth figured out what was going on and began banning me for periods from the hospital so that I would go home and sleep. Instead, I took care of my patients, and when I couldn’t do that I went home and I cried.”

“And Mark was there. . . . He tried to pick up the pieces of Addison. . . . He took care of me. Made me eat. Tricked me into taking a sedative to sleep. . . . And the end result of him caring for me when I was in pieces is that I stayed with Mark for a while.”

Derek looked at her in horror. He saw that the tears had escaped her eyes and were crawling down her face, but her tears couldn’t take away his horror.

He had thought when he came to Seattle, when he let down his guard and a thought creeped into his head, that Addison and Mark were together and happy in New York. He hated it, he blocked it out, but he reasoned that despite the fact that they had wrecked him that the people he had loved – though they had destroyed him – were and should be happy together.

But now, after her account, he actually had a harder time figuring out why she would stay with Mark. It was one thing when he thought they had fallen in love, had a long-term affair.

This was something else entirely.

“You should know that. Full disclosure. Lance the boil. Pick a cliché. The night you walked in on us was the first time, but it was not the only time, that Mark and I had sex.”

For the first time, Derek had a question in his mind he could not escape.

“If you and Mark were so happy, having sex in New York,” he asked acidly, betraying his earlier promise to try just to listen, “then why the hell did you come to Seattle?”

“I never said we were happy. I don’t know about Mark, maybe he was. If so, he was in denial, because I was a mess and he should have known it. And while I care about Mark, maybe even loved him, as a friend, I never loved him the way I love you. . . ."

“While I was trying to pick up the pieces in New York, I went to a therapist. . . . Have a laugh,” she said bitterly. “Addison Montgomery Shepherd admitted she needed help. . . ."

"God, I wish I had done it earlier. Maybe I could have dealt with my insecurities, avoided all this. . . . . But among the things I learned about myself in hours upon hours of therapy was that I still loved you and I still needed you."

"And so I told Mark it was over, and I tried to muster up my courage to face you, and I came to see if there was any chance for us.”

Derek looked at her, speechless. He didn’t know how to respond to everything that was said. He was sure he probably had questions, but he was so full of emotions – anger, sadness, rage, bitterness – that he couldn’t focus on what they might be.

What he did know was that he couldn’t handle much more without spewing the venom of those emotions on his wife, which she didn’t deserve after giving him the honesty he asked for. So he clung to the memory of their agreement.

“I think it’s time for that break,” he said, unable to look at Addie anymore.

Unable to handle the images in his head or the image of his wife in tears in front of him. He needed the escape valve, and he needed it now.

“One more thing,” Addison said, placing her hand on his arm to stop him before he could leave, and feeling her heart rip again as he shrugged it off.

“As long as I’m putting all the Mark cards on the table, there’s one more thing you should know.”

“I didn’t ask Mark to come to Seattle, but when he did, he made clear that he loves me, that he wants me. He asked me to meet him at Joe’s that night, to go home to New York with him.”

Derek looked at her, and she faced him squarely, the tears still streaming.

Then Derek stood up, and he walked away.

Addie sat there alone on the picnic bench, giving up her efforts to keep the tears from turning into full-fledged sobs.

And she watched Derek walk once away again, and she prayed that he would be able to keep his promise. That he would come back.