(no subject)
Title: An Accidental Memory In the Case of Death
Pairing: Derek/Addison
Part: 3/3
Rating: R
Summary: A/U. Pre-Seattle. Derek and Addison struggle through a parent's worst nightmare. Previous: Radio Ballet | Genius and the Thieves
~-~-~-~-~-~
Repose In Blue
~-~-~-~-~-~
His feet feel anything but sturdy as they whisk him away from Richard, from the callings of his own name. There's a distinct rumbling in his stomach as it tries to tie itself into knots and a stab to the heart as he passes by Addison in his quest for the elevator. She'll understand, he tells himself, jabbing at the floor level button seconds later.
She'll understand.
~-~-~-~-~-~
If she had to describe it, Addison would relate the current happenings as an out of body experience. It's as though she's hovering above herself, watching her own cheeks fall grimly when Derek runs by. Staring as the moisture in her eyes begins to build for the hundredth time that day. She feels someone numbly grab at her shoulder as she tries to rush after him, but she isn't quick enough and she's left with a slice of purple construction paper that floated to the ground from her husband's lab coat pocket as a consolation prize for her weak efforts.
"Addison," Mark repeats, startling her out of whatever trance she's in.
"He left," she murmurs perfunctorily.
"He'll come back," Mark answers soundly. "He always comes back. Just...give him some time."
"Yeah," Addison nods slowly, tracing over her husband's handwriting on the makeshift card. She flips the page open with a shaky gasp and partakes in her daughter's amateur drawings, things she knows are butterflies and trees, clouds and a vibrant orange sun. Strong hands are leading her down the hallway but she doesn't look up, she doesn't know if it's Mark or Richard or Adele. She turns to the back of the paper and smiles at Derek's goofy trademark-like logo.
"She made me a card," Addison whispers to whoever is one step behind her.
Mark looks over the redhead's shoulder for a moment, chest clenching when he reads the carefully penned 'Get Well Soon'. He chooses to divert, one of his specialties. "Come on Houdini, let's get you back home."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Funnily enough his feet carry him to the subway, which involuntarily links him back to the brownstone and he's home thirty minutes before Mark stumbles into the foyer with his wife. Thirty minutes that he desperately needed, thirty minutes that look like they have been horrifying for her. He notes the violet shaded paper in her frustrated clutch and curses himself for not being more thoughtful. It was never supposed to make it to her obsessive hands. He was going to burn it, or at least throw it away at the hospital somewhere she would never see it.
In hindsight he feels a little like an ass for thinking of taking something like that away from her, but at the time it seemed like a good plan. He felt like he was saving her from something, back then.
He used to feel like he could save them all and the battle that comes with realizing you aren't enough has been nothing short of brutal for all of them.
"Hey...man," Mark sputters and shuts the door loudly behind them. He hesitates for about a quick minute before turning back around and leaving the tension filled room, headed straight for the bar down the street without so much as a goodbye to either party.
"I'm...sorry about before Addie. I needed to get some air." He kicks off the conversation as she slouches against the banister a few feet away, still immersed in the card.
"You think I don’t need air Derek?"
"What?" He replies, her question coming too late to understand.
"You think I don't need space, a time away from everything that is happening?"
"I-I'm sure you do-"
"It's not a time to be selfish," Addison says softly, voice devoid of accusations and cut throat tactics.
"I'm sorry," is all Derek manages to get out before jumping up to pour himself a strong drink. He's firm in the decision that returning to work probably wouldn't be a good idea, and if he's going to be stuck here all evening he's going to need some sort of magical potion.
"I don't want to bring her home to die," Addison sniffles, because of the cold, her tears a long lost counterpart in the fights constantly being waged when she's around him.
"I don't think we have a choice anymore," Derek tells her, slipping into a chair and facing the other wall. It seems easier to converse when they aren't looking at one another. He finds a family photo to stare at while she picks at the edges of the green carpet running over the wooden steps. "I don't want to fight with you Addie. It's hard enough as it is."
"I can't give up." She's set in one mode, survival. "If we bring her home, we give up. We stop. I...can't live with that Derek. I can't throw everything away and sit around waiting for her to..."
"Die," he fills in, voice guttural and aching. "You would rather she die in a hospital, in a bed she doesn't know-"
"She doesn't know her own room! She hasn't seen it for months."
"Thanks to you," Derek retorts instantly.
"Yeah, I guess so. Thanks to me, thanks to me who wants our daughter to keep living. Thanks to me who doesn't want to lose the hope you seem to have tossed away-"
"It's foolish! And pointless," he tacks on thoughtfully, happy he can't see how much she is hurting. "It's a shame...and a waste."
"Our daughter is not a waste, but I'm glad to hear you confirm how you really feel about all of this for once."
He hears the bedroom door slam forty seconds later and gets up from the couch, heading into the hot, stale breeze of the city without an ounce of reluctance to leave her alone, presumably sobbing into the brown comforter they both love.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Didn't think I'd be seeing you tonight," Mark smarts off, taking another long pull of his beer, and settling against the barstool to watch the Yankees try and manage another win on the road to fall playoffs.
"Yeah." Derek orders and takes the seat next to his long time best friend in the dimly lit bar, neon and peanuts settling his stomach.
"Top of the fifth," Mark tells him, just in case he's decided not to read the television he seems to enthralled with. He waits a few minutes, finishing his drink, before turning slightly with a grimace. "Want to talk about it?"
"No," Derek nods and taps his feet on the ground impatiently. "She's just...she's so angry Mark. Permanently angry about...everything. I don't know how to...do anything with her anymore. It's all so much harder than I thought it would- never mind. How's Jeter doing tonight?"
"Aren't you too?" Mark questions, ignoring the baseball talk for a few seconds.
"Aren't I what?" Derek asks, turning to face him for the first time all evening.
"Angry," Mark says casually. He's found himself more upset in the course of the last few months than he would ever admit, sometimes even sneaking off to check on Lilly when he knows someone is there with her.
Derek's mouth falls open to speak but nothing comes out. He pauses, tongue darting out to taste his chapped lips. "Not anymore."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"It's time Derek. No one is gonna hold it against you for taking a while off. Everyone knows the situation," Richard carefully explains as his almost star squirms around in front of him.
"I can work," Derek argues, legs trying to carry him upward in protest.
"I know you can work, you've proven it over and over but now is the time for family. Time to be home." Richard lifts the blue pen on the edge of his desk to sign a few papers that will notify everyone of the immediate dismissal of Derek C. Shepherd for an indeterminate amount of days. "There's no shame in this. You'll go where you are needed. You will do as you are told."
"Glad to see I have some say in the matter," Derek rolls his eyes and huffs, back sinking into the finely crafted chair.
"When are you taking her home?"
"Hasn't been discussed."
"Derek-"
"Richard-"
"Do you want to me to talk to Addie? Try and reason with her?" Richard offers, sliding the papers over for Derek to review and sign.
What Derek doesn't need is interference. He's resound in the fact that he can handle his own life, his own wife. And if he can't, then the rest of the employees here need be no part of it. "No."
"I can have Adele-"
"It's between us. All of us," he sighs, mind falling toward Lillian downstairs, probably forcing Addison to read to her until she can no longer keep her eyes open. They stopped treatments a few weeks back, waiting on a prayer that something that worked would come along, but there's no sign of a miracle and there's no indication that she'll be living long enough to invest in other alternatives. And while they're aren't as many medications trying to ruin her body so it can build itself back up, there is one hell of a disease running its course and leaving her fatigued on the good days.
"Get to it then," Richard advises, clapping a strong hand to the seated man's shoulder.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I'm off effective today but I'd like to wait until the end of the week," he tells Holstat, as they march down the hallway to spread the "good" news. "I need some time for transition and I don't imagine Addison is going to be very receptive to the idea."
"No," Dr. Holstat agrees with a shake of the head. From his dealings with her, and what he's heard she's not one to give up on medicine. "End of the week sounds like a plan."
"Plan for what?" Addison interrupts, though by them joining the room she deems it fair play. She watches her husband scoot onto the bed with their daughter, legs swinging off the edge.
"Hey Lilly," Derek smiles and pulls the plastic lilac horse out of her hands. "Daddy has something he needs to talk to you about, okay?"
"Okay," she agrees easily, liking the look on her father's face, eager to hear something besides big words from the book on her mother's lap, a medical journal.
"Remember a little while ago when you said you wanted to go home?"
"Yeah," she nods, mouth brightening.
"Well, we all think that is a good idea. What do you say about going home on Friday?"
"Okay!" she squeals, and dives forward half an inch into Derek's lap, just as Addison feels like her airways are being collapsed.
"We can do the paperwork beforehand, that sound good?" Dr. Holstat breaks into the party, looking over Lilly's recent stats.
"Yes, thank you," Derek replies with a firm handshake to follow and the distinct urge to keep away from Addison's surrounding area for as long as humanly possible. He strokes his daughter's back soothingly as she cuddles into his legs and keeps his eyes down, her presence is already beginning to burn a hole in his back.
"Can I get a puppy now?" Lilly asks, looking at both parents.
"Uh- I don't know if a puppy is a good idea right now, but maybe. Mommy and I will talk about it," Derek assures her as Addison groans in absolute disagreement.
"And we can play in the garden?"
"Sure," Derek nods, glancing at the pager that won't be buzzing for God knows how long on his hip.
"And go to the park?"
"Whatever you want," Derek quiets her, and arranges her against the fluffy pillows to rest. "Get some sleep though, for now. I'll be back in a bit." He kisses her forehead lightly and exits the room without a spoken syllable to his wife.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Add-" Derek stops short, seeing the trail of smoke lingering in the early dusk air. He finally resigned himself to heading home an hour ago, and he wasn't sure she'd be here. "This is what you're doing now?" He asks reaching for the burning cigarette. The smoke burns his nostrils as he trails closer but she spins away and takes another drag. "Fine, you're angry. I understand that. And you have every right-"
"Apparently I have no rights," she snorts and then turns back to her soothing magic. She hasn't smoked for years, with the exception of every now and again, but the present is looking like a damn fine time to take it up permanently. Most people do, it wouldn't be that terribly hypocritical, except that bit about being a doctor.
"We were never going to agree!" He shouts at her and reaches for the burning ashes again, this time too slow. She flicks the end and then drops it to the concrete to smash out with the point of her heel. He's pretty sure every man in Manhattan would be incredibly turned on, but now is inappropriate. "I did what I had to!"
"Congratulations," she whispers, voice tainted with a noxious residue, and leaves him to the setting sun and honking horns that are their constant atmosphere.
~-~-~-~-~-~
She's tracing over the name on the page before her as Holstat rambles off things to Derek, because she is clearly not paying any attention. Release forms, instructions, and waivers litter the table. All with her husband's scrawl finely printed across the bottoms; his initials filling in blanks on the side.
Do Not Resuscitate.
She's seen it a hundred times before, and stringently followed its orders, but this is different. It's her child's name above the mandate, her palms that will be focused on not pressing into her baby's chest. Addison's not positive that she will be able to stop herself; she hopes Derek won't be able to either. But they'll sign it, because it's end-of-life care time and no one is bothering to think of other options. They gave it a good run, and evidently it's over.
Fingers fall over the name again and she takes a deep breath, resetting, becoming more professional. She looks up with waning interest and tries to follow along. "Could you give us a minute?" she asks Holstat and watches as he graciously, and thankfully she thinks, removes himself and flees.
"I think it's a good idea," Derek fights back immediately, never knowing which stance to take with her. Since Tuesday all they've done is avoid each other and stare off into space. They pick small fights and yell over trivial things like the laundry not being properly separated, Derek forgetting the dry cleaning yet again, and Addison bursting into tears when he throws away a long dead plant that she thought she could save. It's not about the whites vs. darks or socks, shirts or dead blooms, but they aren't ready to talk yet either so they shelf it.
"I want a ceremony," she squeaks, never really having any thoughts on the matter before now. It's a knee-jerk reaction, and one she is standing firm on. They may be bringing her home, and she may be dying, but there will be no body donated to science. They’re doctors and she respects the learning that can occur but there's no way in hell someone will be prodding her daughter...after.
"We can still-"
"No," she says loudly, meaning business. She picks up a pen and signs every single piece of paper in front of her, without looking because it hurts too much, and then shoves them back toward him, grinning when a few get caught up in the air and float to the ground.
The door slams on her way out and she never imagined anything would feel quite as victorious as that.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Addison finds herself in the kitchen, barefoot, stirring broth for Lilly the same evening. She hasn't done this for so long- cooked with the purpose of doing anything other than letting it get cold and then throwing it away. It feels nice. It feels good to have someone else in the house again, it's warmer.
The family that decorates the walls is back, and the home sends her a celebratory 'well done' with its coziness.
She ladles out a few spoonfuls into a white bowl and grabs the lightly toasted bread, adding a touch of strawberry jam. Lilly wanted pizza, Addison thought it may disagree with her newly released stomach. And she doesn't need a night of cleaning puke and holding a crying four year old. The wooden tray in her hands shakes, reminding her of the nerves that are still coursing through her veins. She's not sure the worry is every going to dissipate, she wonders if she'll ever feel okay with leaving Lilly in a room alone. There's been monitors and nurses for so damn long she feels inadequate, as usual.
"Hey," she smiles flatly as she stumbles into Lilly's room, upstairs just down the hall from her own. "Dinner time."
"Where's mine?" Derek jokes at the same time as Lilly voices her disapproval of Addison's meal choice. "Guess I'll just have to eat this then," he says taking a bite of the toast he loathes. Strawberry is not his thing, it belongs to Addison and Lilly.
"Wait!" Lilly screeches and reaches for his hand. Addison pushes her shoulder back down against the cream colored pillows, wanting to keep her as stationary as possible, out of fear for what could happen.
"Oh, you want it now?" Derek asks her, and hands over the bread while she pouts.
"I wanted pizza," Lilly reminds him.
"Mom said no. Maybe tomorrow."
Sometimes Addison hates to watch their interactions. They're their own little club, always meshing so flawlessly, leaving her on the outskirts. Derek's never not been a good father, no one ever questioned his skills like she does her own. Part of her thinks she is unnecessarily hard on herself but she never had much of an example to go off, and she found her instincts to be soundly lacking. She's fought for every bit of ability she has, learning the hard way, Derek always laughing in the distance when she got spit up in her hair, or lost another piece of jewelry to Lillian's grabby hands.
She listens as they discuss the park tomorrow, and watches as he picks up the book from her nightstand, many things close by her reach so she doesn't try and go flying down the stairs to find anything. Addison isn't sure how long she can keep her confined, now that there are no wires, but it doesn't hurt to try.
Derek tucks Butterscotch under Lilly's arm, kisses her forehead, then wishes her a goodnight and sweet dreams. Addison finally rises from her silent chair to the side of the bed, set up similarly to the hospital for no reason other than familiarity and repeats the motions, taking time to snuggle her drowsy child for a touch longer.
There won't be many more bedtimes.
~-~-~-~-~-~
The pills that make her more comfortable coincidentally also make her sleep more, not that Addison minds. As long as she keeps breathing, Lilly can sleep all she wants, but it does make things slightly more awkward with Derek. Tension laces the room, waiting for them to cut the wire, and they spend hours on end watching television on a small screen in Lilly's room, paying close attention to the stupid stories long after she's gone to bed.
"Why don't you just yell at me and get it over with?" Derek asks, eyes still facing a redheaded mermaid and her sea creature friends.
"It is over with, obviously." She points to Lilly, clad in plaid, long sleeve pajamas even though it's the end of July. "You win."
"Not about winning Addison," Derek snarls and finally the walls begin to crumble down. "You can be mad at me, that's fine, but it had to be done. I know you know that and I know you couldn't so...I did."
"Yay you," Addison retorts childishly, her emotions beginning to get the best of her. It was easier to be a strong front in the hospital. It was impersonal. This is her carpet and her chair and the tears roll easily down her cheeks.
"Addison, don't do that," he scolds, her sniffles distracting him, making his body fight the urge to go scoop her up and rub her back.
She straightens her quivering jaw, and settles her aching chest within a few seconds, attempting to appease him. Heaven forbid he should have to deal with them both.
He eventually turns to face her, nose red, tale-tell streaks down her splotchy cheeks. "I need you...you have to say it was right," he instructs. He's long since given up soothing his own anxieties. He needs her validation, the sooner the better.
"I can't," she gulps, and dashes out the door, searching for the real world and a hot afternoon to smoke her problems away.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"She worries me," Derek laments, taking a small break in the afternoon to join Mark downstairs for the game. He asked his friend to come because the thought of being gone when and if something does happen is completely ungraspable. There's no clear way that they'll be getting groceries or other necessities but none of that has been thought through just yet.
"She worries everyone," Mark replies with a nod to his beer before taking another long sip. It's not exactly like hanging out and watching chicks on the side but the alcohol is cold and the service isn't bad in the brownstone.
"I meant Addie," Derek corrects him without looking over. Everyone is either worried about Lilly or has already given up and is now waiting for something to finally occur. He can't say he doesn't feel challenged himself. The back-and-forth is soul destroying and every time she hiccups Derek thinks of the worst.
Mark would speak up and say that she's Addison and that she'll be fine but he's not that person and frankly, he doesn't take a lot of stock in things turning out one way or another. Instead he keeps quiet and waits for elaboration.
"She's smoking, and she won't eat. I haven't seen her sleep for more than an hour in days and when she does she is curled up in that chair in Lilly's room. I thought...I thought this was the right choice, for Lilly. I didn't think it would be like this on Addison."
"What were you expecting?" Mark asks, fully aware of how dense Derek can be. "Her to dance around with glee and jump back into normal family life?"
"I thought this would be...better," Derek sighs.
"Maybe it is. Doesn't mean it's not hard."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I don't want it," Addison resists and shoves the plate back across the table toward Mark the next day, Derek planted upstairs playing 'farm' with their daughter. She wishes that Lilly was able to head out to Connecticut once more and see the family horses; it always made her so happy.
She finds herself thinking a lot about the things her daughter will never do again, and tries to take stock in the things that are still available- hugs and giggles, short trips to the park and movie nights.
"Just eat something so Derek will stop moping," Mark says back crisply, hand not letting the sandwich out of her view.
"I don't care."
"I do," Mark insists, making sure to catch that vulnerable note in his gruff voice, trying to appeal to her in a different way.
"Fine," Addison caves, taking one small bite of the turkey on wheat, and then pushes it away again when her stomach rolls within.
"Atta sport," Mark cheers her on sarcastically. He can tell she's lost weight, he can tell she's smoking again, and the dark circles under her eyes do not do her justice. But all in all, it's not really his place so he lounges back against the wooden chair and challenges her to try and walk away without consuming at least half of what's in front of them.
Then, as her fingers reach forward once more, he finds a spark of bravery. "Cut Derek some slack-"
"Don't," Addison interrupts. "You...don't- I'm serious Mark."
"Fine," he snarls haughtily and then excuses himself from babysitting duty to join his best friend upstairs. They'll more than likely end up playing brother cows or Mark will be the uncle farmer, either way it's better than being in her company when she shuts down like this. There are days and hours when Addison Montgomery-Shepherd is the last person in the world he would like to spend a meal with, and they seem to be increasing in frequency.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Children often times don't understand death as we do," the woman in front of Derek explains calmly. "But they sense things. Lillian is not completely in the dark about what is happening and you should talk with her, both you and your wife."
"Yeah," Derek gulps. He doesn't know why he thought this was a good idea but they needed help and it's coming in the form of this angelic looking sixty year-old grandma three feet away. Clearly this is not her first time. The company said she was very accomplished and caring, and he can completely echo the sentiment.
"Tears are part of the process Mr. Shepherd," Nurse Dorothy tells him. "It's okay to cry and it's okay to cry in front of your daughter. You're human, this is how we process grief."
Derek nods, the words stuck in his constricting throat. It's like heaven opened up and sent him a person who understands...everything, because she's seen it before. She's lived it. She's been there for the worst days of people's lives, and held their hand fearlessly. "I- thank you."
"I'm happy to help," she replies genuinely. "I'd like to check up on Lillian, today, if you don't mind. I know both you and your wife are accomplished doctors but it will help us all establish a better sense of what is happening. Then, we'll discuss more treatment options, review her last doctor's appointments, make a schedule, and make sure Lillian is as comfortable as possible when the time comes."
"How-," Derek stumbles, face cast downward, "How do you know? "
Dorothy finds the man in front of her struggling, and while every case is difficult, especially with children, she has a feeling this one will be particularly affecting for all. "You just do."
"Derek-" Addison stops dead in her tracks, evaluating the older woman seated comfortably in her living room. "What are- Hello, I'm Addison Shepherd." Her hand extends automatically and is received in a welcome manner.
"My name is Dorothy Wells, with VNSNY."
Addison's eyes trail up to the heavily embroidered emblem on the older woman's sweater. "Hospice," she says softly looking to Derek. They don't need this. They're surgeons for God's sake. They could cut Lilly open, take everything out and then put her back together, if need be, probably on the kitchen table if push came to shove.
"Visiting Nurse Services," Dorothy replies. It's the same but sometimes it helps people feel better to know this isn't some charity thing, but a legitimate business trying to ensure no one dies alone, afraid, and in pain. "I was just speaking with Derek about possibly meeting Lillian today, if you have any questions Mrs. Shepherd-"
"Get out," Addison orders and turns toward the front door that she recently closed, thinking she was walking into an entirely different space, unaware that Derek had spent his afternoon betraying her again after he demanded that she go get groceries instead of having them delivered. What a clever trick, and she is the fool once more, but not for long.
"Addie-" Derek rises, putting himself between them instantly, frightened of what she can do in this mode.
"Get out of my house now."
"Mrs. Shepherd, I understand this is difficult, but I assure you-"
"I pay you," Addison addresses her. "Therefore I tell you what to do. Now get out."
Derek's face crumples in disgust, but before he can reprimand her Dorothy is removing herself from the situation. "Dorothy-"
"All is well Derek, please call again if you need me," Dorothy tells him, giving Addison a cordial nod on her way.
As soon as the door latches Derek spins around with the fury of a hurricane. "Uncalled for, and rude. Where do you think you get off-"
"How dare you!" Addison shouts over him. "How dare you invite someone into our home, into Lilly's life without consenting me first. If I wanted someone to coddle me and say it was going to be alright then I would've hired someone by now-"
"Maybe I need someone!" he yells back, feet beginning to pace in front of her. "I'm trying to do my best for my daughter and I think that we need-"
"No!"
"You have to listen-"
Addison tries to pass by him to retrieve the bags of rotting food from her trunk but he cuts her off abruptly. "Move, Derek. I am not in the mood for your stupid games."
"I'm not playing a game Addison. You will call Dorothy and you will apologize, and then...we will do this. We'll do this, all of us."
"We don't need her!" Addison tells him loudly, her voice still prepared to battle, loving the satisfaction she gets from her shrill tone bouncing back off the walls.
"Yes, we do," Derek demands, taking her fidgeting hand. "Maybe you don't want her, but we need someone Addie. We need help."
Addison yanks her limb away victoriously and glares at him soundly. "You got to bring her home, that's enough." She slams the door loudly on her out, knowing that she'll be back in within a matter of minutes but still wanting to do something about the mess she's found herself in.
Her fingers find the shiny silver lighter halfway around the block, and she doesn't look back.
Derek's sunk into the chair, head buried in his hands, at his wit's end with his wife. There were instances where her snobbery would shine through, and this was one of their not-so-proud moments, but he could fix it. He will fix it.
"Daddy?" Lilly squeaks from the middle of the stairs, playful eyes peaking through the banister.
"Hey Pumpkin, how you feel?"
"Sleepy," she answers with a yawn and then shuffles down the stairs to wiggle her way into her father's lap. "Why were you yelling at Mommy?"
"Just a fight," he attests and plays with a few wild curls by the base of her neck as she begins to dose off once more. "She'll be back soon."
An hour later, well after Lilly gives way to sleep, Derek finds himself chanting the same four words over and over.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Montgomery residence," a thickly accented voice answers the line.
"I'm-this is Addison," she begins, never sure if anyone is aware of who she is. "Is my father available?" She hears shoes clicking on the marble before the slight static of a room change.
"Hello?"
"Hi...D-dad," Addison stutters, to his immediate displeasure.
"Addison," he replies distastefully.
"Libby said you were in Europe," she explains quickly, her once nanny Lillian's pseudo namesake. The only person in their revolving cabinet of maids, nannies and secretaries that she is positive her father never laid a hand on; never got knocked up and then fired with a lifelong support line.
"We are," he confirms with a sense of urgency in his voice. He has a tee time in two hours to get to.
"I was...hoping or wondering when you were planning on coming back." She twists a lock of hair around her fingers and twirls until it's knotted and angry.
"We just got here," he tells her truthfully. "You'd have to ask your mother anyway. Bizzy! Phone!"
"No!" Addison shouts down the empty funnel. It's a lost cause. Her life is full of them these days.
"Hello?"
"Hi."
"Addison darling, how are you? Did you hear about Cherise Abernathy?"
Addison sighs at the sharp trill of her mother's voice, her toes beginning to arch and cringe on their own. "When are you coming back?"
"Not for some time. The summer truly is beautiful here, you and Derek should have joined us this year, the crops brought in an excellent-"
"I...could you maybe come back early?"
"What ever for?" Bizzy asks, letting her cocktail slide out of its container and down her parched throat.
"Lillian's birthday is August 13th and we wanted to throw a party that weekend."
"You want us to come back for a silly birthday party? A bunch of loud children running around in pointed hats, hyped up on sugar. I think we'll pass. "
"It's not silly. She's turning five," the last age she'll get Addison silently thinks.
"Addison-"
"Mother," Addison answers back sharply, letting the weight of the word weigh them both down. "I would appreciate it if you could be here, both of you. We think...this is her last birthday. I want everyone together. Please," Addison begs for the first time in her life, going the distance for her own child.
"Oh Addison," her mother laughs with the alcohol in her clouded system. "You can always have another child Sweetheart. This isn't the end-all, be-all of birthdays."
The next thing they both hear is the dial tone. Bizzy returns to the patio to enjoy the delicious Italian sun while Addison is watching the broken pieces of her cell phone come to a rest on the floor.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Addison?" Derek questions, poking his head into the room after hearing a loud crash. He tiptoes over the shattered glass of what was once a vase they received for their engagement, and finds her ransacking the closet, reorganizing with fervor. "Addie, what happened?"
"Leave me," she pleads, yanking down on of his dress shirts and causing the wooden hanger to buckle under the pressure of her clenched hands. She tosses it to the floor and stamps into the bathroom. There she swiftly swipes everything on the counter off onto the tile.
"What are you- stop!" he orders, and pulls an arm away from the drawer she's reaching for.
"Go away!" She yells back without thought. "Get the hell away from me!"
Derek's confusion comes secondary to the magenta dress wearing little girl in the doorway.
"Mommy you are so loud."
Addison feels her heart bottom out when she sees Lilly frightened a few feet away. "Sorry Lilly-bean, Mommy's sorry. Come here." She pulls her up, hugging her tight and nearly sprints from the room. The only thing that extinguishes her fury is Lilly, a cascading waterfall of much needed distraction.
Once she's settled however, well into another nap, Derek manages to nab her and push her into the dining room, furthest from Lilly's space upstairs. "What happened in there?"
"Nothing," Addison replies sulking, toying with the back of a chair as he faces off across the table.
"You broke our vase." He crosses his arms over his chest seriously and focuses the weight of his body on one foot.
"Sorry," she apologizes sarcastically.
"I don't give a damn about the stupid vase, you know that. I want to know what happened."
"I overreacted is all," Addison tells him, hoping this can just die before she bursts into tears again. They seem to come and go in spurts, and she's trying to hide it all away, the hurt but it seems to explode from within in short sputters.
Derek holds up the two main parts of her now disabled cell phone as exhibit A. "Something caused this and we can stand here for as long as you want."
"Bizzy," Addison caves and then drops her face, slumping into the chair she pulled out.
"Addie, I could have called her," Derek says softly. Family is a very tender topic with Addison and while he has most of her skeletons, he knows there are others in the closet that deeply and profoundly affect his wife. She keeps them as her burden but he's never particularly enjoyed watching her struggle through them. "I would have."
"My family," she mutters inaudibly.
"Did she say something?" Derek asks, she always says something. He started grading them on a scale a while back. He has a ominous feeling this will top the chart.
"Nothing specific."
"I'm sorry," Derek says, feeling the need to constantly give her something more in the face of her awkward and challenged family. Sometimes he feels guilty for having had what he had growing up, missing father and all. Fleetingly he hopes that Grandpa can maybe watch out for his girl until he can get to wherever it is that they are all inevitably headed.
"It's fine, I'll just...find a new phone and...we can buy another vase. I shouldn't have thrown it."
Derek rounds the table, palms coming to a rest on her shoulders, lips dipping down to press a quiet kiss to the back of her neck. He toys with her hair and soothes her back for a few minutes before he can feel her begin to relax.
"They aren't coming. They're in Italy and they're too busy apparently. And Archer won't pick up his phone when I call anymore. He hates sick people."
"Oh," Derek whispers just above her ear. He watches her fall forward, elbows stopping on her knees, hand hanging, gasping for breath as the emotional tidal wave rolls once more.
"She said that there would be other parties, that we could...simply have a-another child."
He slides her easily off the chair and feels her begin to sob against him, making out every other word. Half under the table, limbs uncomfortably tangled together, he holds her until the shaking subsides into deep controlled breaths, tears clinging to her eyelashes. "I love you," is all he can sacrifice up as a condolence.
"Love you too," Addison mumbles sheepishly, her meltdown obviously embarrassing and unwanted.
"It'll be a good party."
"Yeah."
Instead of taking the calm time to talk rationally with her he chooses to say, "We need to stop letting Lilly see us fight. That's not good for anyone."
"I don't want to fight anymore," Addison answers, feeling her body begin to tighten again despite her words, preparing for the next showdown with anyone but her husband. "We're supposed to be a team Derek."
"I know," he replies, and he does know that, it's just difficult with her determined to do everything on their own. He kisses her once more and then leans back against a table leg, their combined weight making it scoot back slightly against the ornate rug they rest on. "We'll talk about it."
They never do, instead a silent agreement is reached not to yell inside, and to bottle up all of the anger and resentment, sadness and guilt they feel for the greater good of the household.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Lillian's not one hundred percent on the day of her party, but then again they've never seen her at that level. They've had a few scares here and there, the most recent landing them back in a hospital per Addison for half the day, but there is nothing that will stop her from making sure her daughter has the best birthday ever. She patiently winds Lilly's unruly waves into french braids and fastens the yellow ribbon she choose to match her fluffy dress at the curled ends. "Stop squirming or I can't finish," Addison warns her.
"Are you done now?" Lilly asks after a few minutes of being still.
"Not yet."
"Everyone is gonna be there?"
"Yes," Addison answers, working her way back up to a loose section and redoing it properly. She hasn't had much time to play with Lilly's hair lately and she's sorely out of practice.
"Daddy said there is a horsey."
"There might be," Addison confirms, remembering the money they had to throw down for a basic pony ride. Licenses, company release forms, it went on and on. But it will be worth it.
"And I can ride as much as I want?"
"We have to give other people turns too. Your cousins will want to ride."
"'kay," Lilly agrees and begins swinging her anxious feet over the chair once more. "Is Uncle Mark comin'?"
"Yes," Addison answers again, waiting for her to run down the list of party guests individually.
"There's my girls," Derek greets, slipping in from the mess of people that wanted to meet at their home before heading to the park. "Nice dress Lil. And you don't look so bad either," Derek tacks on, enjoying Addison's slimming body in a tight little number he didn't know she owned.
"Gee thanks," Addison smiles, the look wearing well on her for once. Nothing will happen today, the world isn't that cruel.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I think..." Addison poses, clambering on top of her husband who resides on the couch (trying to catch a moment of quiet after a busy day of family and cake). "We should have another."
"Horse?" Derek jokes, stilling her fueled reactions.
"Child," she says as her fingers reach for more shirt buttons.
"No," Derek answers more sternly than intended. It stops her dead though, hands flattening against his chest. "Addie, no." It's non-negotiable at this point.
"Why?"
"Our hands are full right now as it is, we can't...we won't make it through another pregnancy. Why would you even-"
"I was reading Mayes' article in-"
"She doesn't have that kind of time Honey," Derek shushes her from explaining the new medical procedure and her analysis of how Baby Shepherd #2 could save their world. It's too risky, and no child should be born into that.
"She might," Addison argues instinctively. And she could, it's hard to gage, she's too close to the situation to see the truth anymore."Maybe Bizzy was right."
He'd like to shake her until the spectacled clouds of confusion come to a halt, throw her in the dryer and see if she can possibly come out unwrinkled with hope. The ideas of a mad woman are driving him toward the edge, and the admittance that her mother could ever be accurate about anything involving their lives or children in general is way off base. "Bizzy is never right...and we aren't going to make a...substitution."
"It could save her!" She reaches a hand down for the poignant article she's been pouring over for days. It may work, just a small transplant, they could at least attempt it after both of their genes failed to help.
"It won't," he assures her, brushing a chunk of red behind her ear and letting her lay down against him.
"We have to try," Addison whimpers a few minutes later, the flickering light of the television grabbing her attention.
"Addison, there is no more trying. You know that. I want to enjoy our time at home with her, that's the point in this."
"I never agreed to bring her home-"
"You signed-"
"Like I had a choice in that room."
He waits until a commercial comes, both watching baseball highlights, Addison completely lost. "It kills me to watch her suffer. I'm doing everything I can think of but you keep pushing me away. I can't force you to accept...it, but I can ask...I want us to be a family for her, a better family. Okay?"
"We are-"
"We aren't right now. We argue constantly, working against each other's progress. We need to be together, united," Derek tells her, as if she has no clue about what is happening to them. It's painful, all of it, but death is nearing their street and he will not be able to handle that without his wife. To lose both of them is unimaginable. "You need to give up the fight, please. For her Addie, you need to let her go."
"I can't," she says instantly. If it was an option she may have considered it.
"I can't do this without you," Derek confides.
Unfortunately Addison feels better equipped in this without him at her side. "I don't want to do this at all.”
~-~-~-~-~-~
Addison painstakingly applies a bit more lotion to the bottom of Lilly's drying feet, begging and pleading with whoever is out there to let her child wake up from this recent spell. Her thumbs smooth over the soft skin carefully, making sure her tiny pink toes get attention as well. Derek's finally passed out on the other side of the room after staying awake for over a day waiting to see if Lilly would wake up for more than ten minutes at a time. To see if she could answer them without being completely disorientated.
Addison adjusts the tubes of the oxygen machine that are providing Lilly with better air and sighs. It's been downhill since the birthday, as if she was waiting for that, and is now content to give out. "I'm sorry," she whispers to the darkened room, hands automatically winding into her sleeves awkwardly.
"I'm sorry," she says softly again, chin trembling. "I just...thought...then that a baby would be too much but you aren't too much, you weren't. I didn't know. I was selfish. I should've stayed at home longer, I should've worked less. Maybe we could have caught it sooner." She wipes her cheek with the back of her hand, atoning for all of her sins, just in case. "I could have been better, I'm sorry."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Derek awakens to the sound of his wife's cries across the room, a rambling speech about how she never wanted a child, and how wrong she was. It's news to him, but in hindsight, he shouldn't be surprised. Addison was uninvolved with her pregnancy in the beginning, hateful almost. She was upset that she had to run out of surgeries, angry that she needed to take time away from her career. But that was then, and now, he has no doubt that she loves their girl more than anything in the world.
It may have taken a small journey, but it's irrelevant. He straightens slowly, rolling over, Addison too distraught to notice. He'll allow her to have this. This is theirs, mother and daughter, without his interruptions. He closes his eyes, clenches his teeth, and pretends he's ignorant to the scene a few feet away.
~-~-~-~-~-~
The sky is littered with streetlights beginning to gain strength, sun breaking away. Horns, and voices waft through the evening air and carry themselves to Addison's location behind the brownstone. Her feet are pushed into old sandals, legs covered by the same jeans she wore yesterday. Eyes red, cheeks pale, skin hanging on bones. She feels worse than she looks though.
"She's asleep again," Derek mentions, joining her, both staring out at the park just a ways off. He takes the cigarette from her fingers with resignation and draws it to his own mouth, inhaling deeply. It tastes like crap and he chokes as he hands it back, but there's something about the action that breeds control, something they are both desperate for. They share the rest, and then she strikes another. "Want dinner?"
"Not hungry," she answers automatically.
"Should probably eat though."
"I can't," Addison says with a quick shake of the head, wild hair doing as it pleases. The humidity and her lack of styling gives way to nature.
"Me neither," Derek sighs, stealing the smoke from her.
Addison bites her lip as he has his turn. It's coming now, painfully slow, the beginning of the end. She knows all the signs, is acutely aware of how much fluid and food her daughter will tolerate, notices a distinct lack of care and wonder in her eyes. She would rather die herself than to keep on watching the same scene on repeat every hour of the last week.
Sometimes they run ice chips over her cracked lips, other times they manage to rouse her enough to swallow her meds. One day she's up and playing Guess Who and Operation with them, the next she's barely conscious. The roller coaster keeps on chugging along, dragging everyone. "We...I should call Dorothy."
"Yeah," Derek agrees. Tomorrow, according to their schedule, should be one of those nerve-racking days when Lilly is down.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"It's time," Dorothy tells them sadly, meeting in the hallway just outside the bedroom they've both basically moved in to. "You should probably prepare yourselves."
"Okay," Derek answers for them both, Addison clinging to his hand, turned into his chest.
"Talk to her," Dorothy tells them as they begin to walk away. "Tell her...everything. Say goodbye, tell her it's okay to go now. It's important to talk, so she doesn't feel alone."
"How long?" Derek swallows roughly, as Addison makes a quick getaway before she starts crying in front of a stranger.
"Could be hours, could be days," Dorothy says honestly. She's no guessing machine but through the years she's gotten fairly good at this. "I'd say you probably have another day or so. Her body is shutting down. We can increase her medication, make sure she doesn't feel anything."
"She's already-"
"Derek," Dorothy stops him, her hand on his shoulder, "I know you're worried about the level of medication in her system being unhealthy but you need to understand that at this point, it doesn't matter. What does is being there for you daughter in her last hours."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Four days later they find themselves still waiting, though there's been obvious deterioration. She's not their Lillian anymore, she's a body struggling to fade away. They watch with ragged eyes, torn hearts, as she breathes shallowly and slowly.
Derek takes his daughter's hand, watching her grow restless, murmuring something unintelligible. "She's waiting on you Addie. You need to let her go. Tell her it's okay to go now. We'll be okay."
His voice grabs her attention. He looks...broken. With a surge of courage she drops her head on the lightly colored pillow her daughter sleeps on and whispers something she hopes she'll never have to say again. When she pulls back she nods at Derek and takes Lilly's free hand, still warm to the touch, for the time being.
~-~-~-~-~-~
The clock in the room says it 6:43 am when Derek opens his eyes. He glances at Addison, curled into the small armchair next to the bed still clutching Lilly's hand. It feels different suddenly and he turns with renewed fear to find her chest nearly quiet, lungs struggling to get up and down. He slips into the bed, pushing down the sheets, and pulls her flush against his chest whispering that it's alright and that he's got her.
He leaves Addison to her sleep, holding on tightly, checking for a pulse every ten minutes. At 7:06 he no longer finds one. At 8:19 he finally manages to pull it together enough to wake his wife. "Addie."
"Hrm?" she responds still asleep.
He stares helplessly when her eyes open, knowing this is the moment that will forever change her, a mother with no child to speak of. His mouth opens but all he can do is sputter until the tears claim him once more. She scurries onto the bed, making sure he's right.
Sunday morning floods the soon-to-be hot summer day, lightly coating them in a memory they will never forget, a time that will not be spoken of.
"She's gone."
~-~-~-~-~-~
A/N: I just want to give my sincere thanks to everyone who is still around for this story. I appreciate it greatly, especially with this one.
Pairing: Derek/Addison
Part: 3/3
Rating: R
Summary: A/U. Pre-Seattle. Derek and Addison struggle through a parent's worst nightmare. Previous: Radio Ballet | Genius and the Thieves
~-~-~-~-~-~
Repose In Blue
~-~-~-~-~-~
His feet feel anything but sturdy as they whisk him away from Richard, from the callings of his own name. There's a distinct rumbling in his stomach as it tries to tie itself into knots and a stab to the heart as he passes by Addison in his quest for the elevator. She'll understand, he tells himself, jabbing at the floor level button seconds later.
She'll understand.
~-~-~-~-~-~
If she had to describe it, Addison would relate the current happenings as an out of body experience. It's as though she's hovering above herself, watching her own cheeks fall grimly when Derek runs by. Staring as the moisture in her eyes begins to build for the hundredth time that day. She feels someone numbly grab at her shoulder as she tries to rush after him, but she isn't quick enough and she's left with a slice of purple construction paper that floated to the ground from her husband's lab coat pocket as a consolation prize for her weak efforts.
"Addison," Mark repeats, startling her out of whatever trance she's in.
"He left," she murmurs perfunctorily.
"He'll come back," Mark answers soundly. "He always comes back. Just...give him some time."
"Yeah," Addison nods slowly, tracing over her husband's handwriting on the makeshift card. She flips the page open with a shaky gasp and partakes in her daughter's amateur drawings, things she knows are butterflies and trees, clouds and a vibrant orange sun. Strong hands are leading her down the hallway but she doesn't look up, she doesn't know if it's Mark or Richard or Adele. She turns to the back of the paper and smiles at Derek's goofy trademark-like logo.
"She made me a card," Addison whispers to whoever is one step behind her.
Mark looks over the redhead's shoulder for a moment, chest clenching when he reads the carefully penned 'Get Well Soon'. He chooses to divert, one of his specialties. "Come on Houdini, let's get you back home."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Funnily enough his feet carry him to the subway, which involuntarily links him back to the brownstone and he's home thirty minutes before Mark stumbles into the foyer with his wife. Thirty minutes that he desperately needed, thirty minutes that look like they have been horrifying for her. He notes the violet shaded paper in her frustrated clutch and curses himself for not being more thoughtful. It was never supposed to make it to her obsessive hands. He was going to burn it, or at least throw it away at the hospital somewhere she would never see it.
In hindsight he feels a little like an ass for thinking of taking something like that away from her, but at the time it seemed like a good plan. He felt like he was saving her from something, back then.
He used to feel like he could save them all and the battle that comes with realizing you aren't enough has been nothing short of brutal for all of them.
"Hey...man," Mark sputters and shuts the door loudly behind them. He hesitates for about a quick minute before turning back around and leaving the tension filled room, headed straight for the bar down the street without so much as a goodbye to either party.
"I'm...sorry about before Addie. I needed to get some air." He kicks off the conversation as she slouches against the banister a few feet away, still immersed in the card.
"You think I don’t need air Derek?"
"What?" He replies, her question coming too late to understand.
"You think I don't need space, a time away from everything that is happening?"
"I-I'm sure you do-"
"It's not a time to be selfish," Addison says softly, voice devoid of accusations and cut throat tactics.
"I'm sorry," is all Derek manages to get out before jumping up to pour himself a strong drink. He's firm in the decision that returning to work probably wouldn't be a good idea, and if he's going to be stuck here all evening he's going to need some sort of magical potion.
"I don't want to bring her home to die," Addison sniffles, because of the cold, her tears a long lost counterpart in the fights constantly being waged when she's around him.
"I don't think we have a choice anymore," Derek tells her, slipping into a chair and facing the other wall. It seems easier to converse when they aren't looking at one another. He finds a family photo to stare at while she picks at the edges of the green carpet running over the wooden steps. "I don't want to fight with you Addie. It's hard enough as it is."
"I can't give up." She's set in one mode, survival. "If we bring her home, we give up. We stop. I...can't live with that Derek. I can't throw everything away and sit around waiting for her to..."
"Die," he fills in, voice guttural and aching. "You would rather she die in a hospital, in a bed she doesn't know-"
"She doesn't know her own room! She hasn't seen it for months."
"Thanks to you," Derek retorts instantly.
"Yeah, I guess so. Thanks to me, thanks to me who wants our daughter to keep living. Thanks to me who doesn't want to lose the hope you seem to have tossed away-"
"It's foolish! And pointless," he tacks on thoughtfully, happy he can't see how much she is hurting. "It's a shame...and a waste."
"Our daughter is not a waste, but I'm glad to hear you confirm how you really feel about all of this for once."
He hears the bedroom door slam forty seconds later and gets up from the couch, heading into the hot, stale breeze of the city without an ounce of reluctance to leave her alone, presumably sobbing into the brown comforter they both love.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Didn't think I'd be seeing you tonight," Mark smarts off, taking another long pull of his beer, and settling against the barstool to watch the Yankees try and manage another win on the road to fall playoffs.
"Yeah." Derek orders and takes the seat next to his long time best friend in the dimly lit bar, neon and peanuts settling his stomach.
"Top of the fifth," Mark tells him, just in case he's decided not to read the television he seems to enthralled with. He waits a few minutes, finishing his drink, before turning slightly with a grimace. "Want to talk about it?"
"No," Derek nods and taps his feet on the ground impatiently. "She's just...she's so angry Mark. Permanently angry about...everything. I don't know how to...do anything with her anymore. It's all so much harder than I thought it would- never mind. How's Jeter doing tonight?"
"Aren't you too?" Mark questions, ignoring the baseball talk for a few seconds.
"Aren't I what?" Derek asks, turning to face him for the first time all evening.
"Angry," Mark says casually. He's found himself more upset in the course of the last few months than he would ever admit, sometimes even sneaking off to check on Lilly when he knows someone is there with her.
Derek's mouth falls open to speak but nothing comes out. He pauses, tongue darting out to taste his chapped lips. "Not anymore."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"It's time Derek. No one is gonna hold it against you for taking a while off. Everyone knows the situation," Richard carefully explains as his almost star squirms around in front of him.
"I can work," Derek argues, legs trying to carry him upward in protest.
"I know you can work, you've proven it over and over but now is the time for family. Time to be home." Richard lifts the blue pen on the edge of his desk to sign a few papers that will notify everyone of the immediate dismissal of Derek C. Shepherd for an indeterminate amount of days. "There's no shame in this. You'll go where you are needed. You will do as you are told."
"Glad to see I have some say in the matter," Derek rolls his eyes and huffs, back sinking into the finely crafted chair.
"When are you taking her home?"
"Hasn't been discussed."
"Derek-"
"Richard-"
"Do you want to me to talk to Addie? Try and reason with her?" Richard offers, sliding the papers over for Derek to review and sign.
What Derek doesn't need is interference. He's resound in the fact that he can handle his own life, his own wife. And if he can't, then the rest of the employees here need be no part of it. "No."
"I can have Adele-"
"It's between us. All of us," he sighs, mind falling toward Lillian downstairs, probably forcing Addison to read to her until she can no longer keep her eyes open. They stopped treatments a few weeks back, waiting on a prayer that something that worked would come along, but there's no sign of a miracle and there's no indication that she'll be living long enough to invest in other alternatives. And while they're aren't as many medications trying to ruin her body so it can build itself back up, there is one hell of a disease running its course and leaving her fatigued on the good days.
"Get to it then," Richard advises, clapping a strong hand to the seated man's shoulder.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I'm off effective today but I'd like to wait until the end of the week," he tells Holstat, as they march down the hallway to spread the "good" news. "I need some time for transition and I don't imagine Addison is going to be very receptive to the idea."
"No," Dr. Holstat agrees with a shake of the head. From his dealings with her, and what he's heard she's not one to give up on medicine. "End of the week sounds like a plan."
"Plan for what?" Addison interrupts, though by them joining the room she deems it fair play. She watches her husband scoot onto the bed with their daughter, legs swinging off the edge.
"Hey Lilly," Derek smiles and pulls the plastic lilac horse out of her hands. "Daddy has something he needs to talk to you about, okay?"
"Okay," she agrees easily, liking the look on her father's face, eager to hear something besides big words from the book on her mother's lap, a medical journal.
"Remember a little while ago when you said you wanted to go home?"
"Yeah," she nods, mouth brightening.
"Well, we all think that is a good idea. What do you say about going home on Friday?"
"Okay!" she squeals, and dives forward half an inch into Derek's lap, just as Addison feels like her airways are being collapsed.
"We can do the paperwork beforehand, that sound good?" Dr. Holstat breaks into the party, looking over Lilly's recent stats.
"Yes, thank you," Derek replies with a firm handshake to follow and the distinct urge to keep away from Addison's surrounding area for as long as humanly possible. He strokes his daughter's back soothingly as she cuddles into his legs and keeps his eyes down, her presence is already beginning to burn a hole in his back.
"Can I get a puppy now?" Lilly asks, looking at both parents.
"Uh- I don't know if a puppy is a good idea right now, but maybe. Mommy and I will talk about it," Derek assures her as Addison groans in absolute disagreement.
"And we can play in the garden?"
"Sure," Derek nods, glancing at the pager that won't be buzzing for God knows how long on his hip.
"And go to the park?"
"Whatever you want," Derek quiets her, and arranges her against the fluffy pillows to rest. "Get some sleep though, for now. I'll be back in a bit." He kisses her forehead lightly and exits the room without a spoken syllable to his wife.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Add-" Derek stops short, seeing the trail of smoke lingering in the early dusk air. He finally resigned himself to heading home an hour ago, and he wasn't sure she'd be here. "This is what you're doing now?" He asks reaching for the burning cigarette. The smoke burns his nostrils as he trails closer but she spins away and takes another drag. "Fine, you're angry. I understand that. And you have every right-"
"Apparently I have no rights," she snorts and then turns back to her soothing magic. She hasn't smoked for years, with the exception of every now and again, but the present is looking like a damn fine time to take it up permanently. Most people do, it wouldn't be that terribly hypocritical, except that bit about being a doctor.
"We were never going to agree!" He shouts at her and reaches for the burning ashes again, this time too slow. She flicks the end and then drops it to the concrete to smash out with the point of her heel. He's pretty sure every man in Manhattan would be incredibly turned on, but now is inappropriate. "I did what I had to!"
"Congratulations," she whispers, voice tainted with a noxious residue, and leaves him to the setting sun and honking horns that are their constant atmosphere.
~-~-~-~-~-~
She's tracing over the name on the page before her as Holstat rambles off things to Derek, because she is clearly not paying any attention. Release forms, instructions, and waivers litter the table. All with her husband's scrawl finely printed across the bottoms; his initials filling in blanks on the side.
Do Not Resuscitate.
She's seen it a hundred times before, and stringently followed its orders, but this is different. It's her child's name above the mandate, her palms that will be focused on not pressing into her baby's chest. Addison's not positive that she will be able to stop herself; she hopes Derek won't be able to either. But they'll sign it, because it's end-of-life care time and no one is bothering to think of other options. They gave it a good run, and evidently it's over.
Fingers fall over the name again and she takes a deep breath, resetting, becoming more professional. She looks up with waning interest and tries to follow along. "Could you give us a minute?" she asks Holstat and watches as he graciously, and thankfully she thinks, removes himself and flees.
"I think it's a good idea," Derek fights back immediately, never knowing which stance to take with her. Since Tuesday all they've done is avoid each other and stare off into space. They pick small fights and yell over trivial things like the laundry not being properly separated, Derek forgetting the dry cleaning yet again, and Addison bursting into tears when he throws away a long dead plant that she thought she could save. It's not about the whites vs. darks or socks, shirts or dead blooms, but they aren't ready to talk yet either so they shelf it.
"I want a ceremony," she squeaks, never really having any thoughts on the matter before now. It's a knee-jerk reaction, and one she is standing firm on. They may be bringing her home, and she may be dying, but there will be no body donated to science. They’re doctors and she respects the learning that can occur but there's no way in hell someone will be prodding her daughter...after.
"We can still-"
"No," she says loudly, meaning business. She picks up a pen and signs every single piece of paper in front of her, without looking because it hurts too much, and then shoves them back toward him, grinning when a few get caught up in the air and float to the ground.
The door slams on her way out and she never imagined anything would feel quite as victorious as that.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Addison finds herself in the kitchen, barefoot, stirring broth for Lilly the same evening. She hasn't done this for so long- cooked with the purpose of doing anything other than letting it get cold and then throwing it away. It feels nice. It feels good to have someone else in the house again, it's warmer.
The family that decorates the walls is back, and the home sends her a celebratory 'well done' with its coziness.
She ladles out a few spoonfuls into a white bowl and grabs the lightly toasted bread, adding a touch of strawberry jam. Lilly wanted pizza, Addison thought it may disagree with her newly released stomach. And she doesn't need a night of cleaning puke and holding a crying four year old. The wooden tray in her hands shakes, reminding her of the nerves that are still coursing through her veins. She's not sure the worry is every going to dissipate, she wonders if she'll ever feel okay with leaving Lilly in a room alone. There's been monitors and nurses for so damn long she feels inadequate, as usual.
"Hey," she smiles flatly as she stumbles into Lilly's room, upstairs just down the hall from her own. "Dinner time."
"Where's mine?" Derek jokes at the same time as Lilly voices her disapproval of Addison's meal choice. "Guess I'll just have to eat this then," he says taking a bite of the toast he loathes. Strawberry is not his thing, it belongs to Addison and Lilly.
"Wait!" Lilly screeches and reaches for his hand. Addison pushes her shoulder back down against the cream colored pillows, wanting to keep her as stationary as possible, out of fear for what could happen.
"Oh, you want it now?" Derek asks her, and hands over the bread while she pouts.
"I wanted pizza," Lilly reminds him.
"Mom said no. Maybe tomorrow."
Sometimes Addison hates to watch their interactions. They're their own little club, always meshing so flawlessly, leaving her on the outskirts. Derek's never not been a good father, no one ever questioned his skills like she does her own. Part of her thinks she is unnecessarily hard on herself but she never had much of an example to go off, and she found her instincts to be soundly lacking. She's fought for every bit of ability she has, learning the hard way, Derek always laughing in the distance when she got spit up in her hair, or lost another piece of jewelry to Lillian's grabby hands.
She listens as they discuss the park tomorrow, and watches as he picks up the book from her nightstand, many things close by her reach so she doesn't try and go flying down the stairs to find anything. Addison isn't sure how long she can keep her confined, now that there are no wires, but it doesn't hurt to try.
Derek tucks Butterscotch under Lilly's arm, kisses her forehead, then wishes her a goodnight and sweet dreams. Addison finally rises from her silent chair to the side of the bed, set up similarly to the hospital for no reason other than familiarity and repeats the motions, taking time to snuggle her drowsy child for a touch longer.
There won't be many more bedtimes.
~-~-~-~-~-~
The pills that make her more comfortable coincidentally also make her sleep more, not that Addison minds. As long as she keeps breathing, Lilly can sleep all she wants, but it does make things slightly more awkward with Derek. Tension laces the room, waiting for them to cut the wire, and they spend hours on end watching television on a small screen in Lilly's room, paying close attention to the stupid stories long after she's gone to bed.
"Why don't you just yell at me and get it over with?" Derek asks, eyes still facing a redheaded mermaid and her sea creature friends.
"It is over with, obviously." She points to Lilly, clad in plaid, long sleeve pajamas even though it's the end of July. "You win."
"Not about winning Addison," Derek snarls and finally the walls begin to crumble down. "You can be mad at me, that's fine, but it had to be done. I know you know that and I know you couldn't so...I did."
"Yay you," Addison retorts childishly, her emotions beginning to get the best of her. It was easier to be a strong front in the hospital. It was impersonal. This is her carpet and her chair and the tears roll easily down her cheeks.
"Addison, don't do that," he scolds, her sniffles distracting him, making his body fight the urge to go scoop her up and rub her back.
She straightens her quivering jaw, and settles her aching chest within a few seconds, attempting to appease him. Heaven forbid he should have to deal with them both.
He eventually turns to face her, nose red, tale-tell streaks down her splotchy cheeks. "I need you...you have to say it was right," he instructs. He's long since given up soothing his own anxieties. He needs her validation, the sooner the better.
"I can't," she gulps, and dashes out the door, searching for the real world and a hot afternoon to smoke her problems away.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"She worries me," Derek laments, taking a small break in the afternoon to join Mark downstairs for the game. He asked his friend to come because the thought of being gone when and if something does happen is completely ungraspable. There's no clear way that they'll be getting groceries or other necessities but none of that has been thought through just yet.
"She worries everyone," Mark replies with a nod to his beer before taking another long sip. It's not exactly like hanging out and watching chicks on the side but the alcohol is cold and the service isn't bad in the brownstone.
"I meant Addie," Derek corrects him without looking over. Everyone is either worried about Lilly or has already given up and is now waiting for something to finally occur. He can't say he doesn't feel challenged himself. The back-and-forth is soul destroying and every time she hiccups Derek thinks of the worst.
Mark would speak up and say that she's Addison and that she'll be fine but he's not that person and frankly, he doesn't take a lot of stock in things turning out one way or another. Instead he keeps quiet and waits for elaboration.
"She's smoking, and she won't eat. I haven't seen her sleep for more than an hour in days and when she does she is curled up in that chair in Lilly's room. I thought...I thought this was the right choice, for Lilly. I didn't think it would be like this on Addison."
"What were you expecting?" Mark asks, fully aware of how dense Derek can be. "Her to dance around with glee and jump back into normal family life?"
"I thought this would be...better," Derek sighs.
"Maybe it is. Doesn't mean it's not hard."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I don't want it," Addison resists and shoves the plate back across the table toward Mark the next day, Derek planted upstairs playing 'farm' with their daughter. She wishes that Lilly was able to head out to Connecticut once more and see the family horses; it always made her so happy.
She finds herself thinking a lot about the things her daughter will never do again, and tries to take stock in the things that are still available- hugs and giggles, short trips to the park and movie nights.
"Just eat something so Derek will stop moping," Mark says back crisply, hand not letting the sandwich out of her view.
"I don't care."
"I do," Mark insists, making sure to catch that vulnerable note in his gruff voice, trying to appeal to her in a different way.
"Fine," Addison caves, taking one small bite of the turkey on wheat, and then pushes it away again when her stomach rolls within.
"Atta sport," Mark cheers her on sarcastically. He can tell she's lost weight, he can tell she's smoking again, and the dark circles under her eyes do not do her justice. But all in all, it's not really his place so he lounges back against the wooden chair and challenges her to try and walk away without consuming at least half of what's in front of them.
Then, as her fingers reach forward once more, he finds a spark of bravery. "Cut Derek some slack-"
"Don't," Addison interrupts. "You...don't- I'm serious Mark."
"Fine," he snarls haughtily and then excuses himself from babysitting duty to join his best friend upstairs. They'll more than likely end up playing brother cows or Mark will be the uncle farmer, either way it's better than being in her company when she shuts down like this. There are days and hours when Addison Montgomery-Shepherd is the last person in the world he would like to spend a meal with, and they seem to be increasing in frequency.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Children often times don't understand death as we do," the woman in front of Derek explains calmly. "But they sense things. Lillian is not completely in the dark about what is happening and you should talk with her, both you and your wife."
"Yeah," Derek gulps. He doesn't know why he thought this was a good idea but they needed help and it's coming in the form of this angelic looking sixty year-old grandma three feet away. Clearly this is not her first time. The company said she was very accomplished and caring, and he can completely echo the sentiment.
"Tears are part of the process Mr. Shepherd," Nurse Dorothy tells him. "It's okay to cry and it's okay to cry in front of your daughter. You're human, this is how we process grief."
Derek nods, the words stuck in his constricting throat. It's like heaven opened up and sent him a person who understands...everything, because she's seen it before. She's lived it. She's been there for the worst days of people's lives, and held their hand fearlessly. "I- thank you."
"I'm happy to help," she replies genuinely. "I'd like to check up on Lillian, today, if you don't mind. I know both you and your wife are accomplished doctors but it will help us all establish a better sense of what is happening. Then, we'll discuss more treatment options, review her last doctor's appointments, make a schedule, and make sure Lillian is as comfortable as possible when the time comes."
"How-," Derek stumbles, face cast downward, "How do you know? "
Dorothy finds the man in front of her struggling, and while every case is difficult, especially with children, she has a feeling this one will be particularly affecting for all. "You just do."
"Derek-" Addison stops dead in her tracks, evaluating the older woman seated comfortably in her living room. "What are- Hello, I'm Addison Shepherd." Her hand extends automatically and is received in a welcome manner.
"My name is Dorothy Wells, with VNSNY."
Addison's eyes trail up to the heavily embroidered emblem on the older woman's sweater. "Hospice," she says softly looking to Derek. They don't need this. They're surgeons for God's sake. They could cut Lilly open, take everything out and then put her back together, if need be, probably on the kitchen table if push came to shove.
"Visiting Nurse Services," Dorothy replies. It's the same but sometimes it helps people feel better to know this isn't some charity thing, but a legitimate business trying to ensure no one dies alone, afraid, and in pain. "I was just speaking with Derek about possibly meeting Lillian today, if you have any questions Mrs. Shepherd-"
"Get out," Addison orders and turns toward the front door that she recently closed, thinking she was walking into an entirely different space, unaware that Derek had spent his afternoon betraying her again after he demanded that she go get groceries instead of having them delivered. What a clever trick, and she is the fool once more, but not for long.
"Addie-" Derek rises, putting himself between them instantly, frightened of what she can do in this mode.
"Get out of my house now."
"Mrs. Shepherd, I understand this is difficult, but I assure you-"
"I pay you," Addison addresses her. "Therefore I tell you what to do. Now get out."
Derek's face crumples in disgust, but before he can reprimand her Dorothy is removing herself from the situation. "Dorothy-"
"All is well Derek, please call again if you need me," Dorothy tells him, giving Addison a cordial nod on her way.
As soon as the door latches Derek spins around with the fury of a hurricane. "Uncalled for, and rude. Where do you think you get off-"
"How dare you!" Addison shouts over him. "How dare you invite someone into our home, into Lilly's life without consenting me first. If I wanted someone to coddle me and say it was going to be alright then I would've hired someone by now-"
"Maybe I need someone!" he yells back, feet beginning to pace in front of her. "I'm trying to do my best for my daughter and I think that we need-"
"No!"
"You have to listen-"
Addison tries to pass by him to retrieve the bags of rotting food from her trunk but he cuts her off abruptly. "Move, Derek. I am not in the mood for your stupid games."
"I'm not playing a game Addison. You will call Dorothy and you will apologize, and then...we will do this. We'll do this, all of us."
"We don't need her!" Addison tells him loudly, her voice still prepared to battle, loving the satisfaction she gets from her shrill tone bouncing back off the walls.
"Yes, we do," Derek demands, taking her fidgeting hand. "Maybe you don't want her, but we need someone Addie. We need help."
Addison yanks her limb away victoriously and glares at him soundly. "You got to bring her home, that's enough." She slams the door loudly on her out, knowing that she'll be back in within a matter of minutes but still wanting to do something about the mess she's found herself in.
Her fingers find the shiny silver lighter halfway around the block, and she doesn't look back.
Derek's sunk into the chair, head buried in his hands, at his wit's end with his wife. There were instances where her snobbery would shine through, and this was one of their not-so-proud moments, but he could fix it. He will fix it.
"Daddy?" Lilly squeaks from the middle of the stairs, playful eyes peaking through the banister.
"Hey Pumpkin, how you feel?"
"Sleepy," she answers with a yawn and then shuffles down the stairs to wiggle her way into her father's lap. "Why were you yelling at Mommy?"
"Just a fight," he attests and plays with a few wild curls by the base of her neck as she begins to dose off once more. "She'll be back soon."
An hour later, well after Lilly gives way to sleep, Derek finds himself chanting the same four words over and over.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Montgomery residence," a thickly accented voice answers the line.
"I'm-this is Addison," she begins, never sure if anyone is aware of who she is. "Is my father available?" She hears shoes clicking on the marble before the slight static of a room change.
"Hello?"
"Hi...D-dad," Addison stutters, to his immediate displeasure.
"Addison," he replies distastefully.
"Libby said you were in Europe," she explains quickly, her once nanny Lillian's pseudo namesake. The only person in their revolving cabinet of maids, nannies and secretaries that she is positive her father never laid a hand on; never got knocked up and then fired with a lifelong support line.
"We are," he confirms with a sense of urgency in his voice. He has a tee time in two hours to get to.
"I was...hoping or wondering when you were planning on coming back." She twists a lock of hair around her fingers and twirls until it's knotted and angry.
"We just got here," he tells her truthfully. "You'd have to ask your mother anyway. Bizzy! Phone!"
"No!" Addison shouts down the empty funnel. It's a lost cause. Her life is full of them these days.
"Hello?"
"Hi."
"Addison darling, how are you? Did you hear about Cherise Abernathy?"
Addison sighs at the sharp trill of her mother's voice, her toes beginning to arch and cringe on their own. "When are you coming back?"
"Not for some time. The summer truly is beautiful here, you and Derek should have joined us this year, the crops brought in an excellent-"
"I...could you maybe come back early?"
"What ever for?" Bizzy asks, letting her cocktail slide out of its container and down her parched throat.
"Lillian's birthday is August 13th and we wanted to throw a party that weekend."
"You want us to come back for a silly birthday party? A bunch of loud children running around in pointed hats, hyped up on sugar. I think we'll pass. "
"It's not silly. She's turning five," the last age she'll get Addison silently thinks.
"Addison-"
"Mother," Addison answers back sharply, letting the weight of the word weigh them both down. "I would appreciate it if you could be here, both of you. We think...this is her last birthday. I want everyone together. Please," Addison begs for the first time in her life, going the distance for her own child.
"Oh Addison," her mother laughs with the alcohol in her clouded system. "You can always have another child Sweetheart. This isn't the end-all, be-all of birthdays."
The next thing they both hear is the dial tone. Bizzy returns to the patio to enjoy the delicious Italian sun while Addison is watching the broken pieces of her cell phone come to a rest on the floor.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Addison?" Derek questions, poking his head into the room after hearing a loud crash. He tiptoes over the shattered glass of what was once a vase they received for their engagement, and finds her ransacking the closet, reorganizing with fervor. "Addie, what happened?"
"Leave me," she pleads, yanking down on of his dress shirts and causing the wooden hanger to buckle under the pressure of her clenched hands. She tosses it to the floor and stamps into the bathroom. There she swiftly swipes everything on the counter off onto the tile.
"What are you- stop!" he orders, and pulls an arm away from the drawer she's reaching for.
"Go away!" She yells back without thought. "Get the hell away from me!"
Derek's confusion comes secondary to the magenta dress wearing little girl in the doorway.
"Mommy you are so loud."
Addison feels her heart bottom out when she sees Lilly frightened a few feet away. "Sorry Lilly-bean, Mommy's sorry. Come here." She pulls her up, hugging her tight and nearly sprints from the room. The only thing that extinguishes her fury is Lilly, a cascading waterfall of much needed distraction.
Once she's settled however, well into another nap, Derek manages to nab her and push her into the dining room, furthest from Lilly's space upstairs. "What happened in there?"
"Nothing," Addison replies sulking, toying with the back of a chair as he faces off across the table.
"You broke our vase." He crosses his arms over his chest seriously and focuses the weight of his body on one foot.
"Sorry," she apologizes sarcastically.
"I don't give a damn about the stupid vase, you know that. I want to know what happened."
"I overreacted is all," Addison tells him, hoping this can just die before she bursts into tears again. They seem to come and go in spurts, and she's trying to hide it all away, the hurt but it seems to explode from within in short sputters.
Derek holds up the two main parts of her now disabled cell phone as exhibit A. "Something caused this and we can stand here for as long as you want."
"Bizzy," Addison caves and then drops her face, slumping into the chair she pulled out.
"Addie, I could have called her," Derek says softly. Family is a very tender topic with Addison and while he has most of her skeletons, he knows there are others in the closet that deeply and profoundly affect his wife. She keeps them as her burden but he's never particularly enjoyed watching her struggle through them. "I would have."
"My family," she mutters inaudibly.
"Did she say something?" Derek asks, she always says something. He started grading them on a scale a while back. He has a ominous feeling this will top the chart.
"Nothing specific."
"I'm sorry," Derek says, feeling the need to constantly give her something more in the face of her awkward and challenged family. Sometimes he feels guilty for having had what he had growing up, missing father and all. Fleetingly he hopes that Grandpa can maybe watch out for his girl until he can get to wherever it is that they are all inevitably headed.
"It's fine, I'll just...find a new phone and...we can buy another vase. I shouldn't have thrown it."
Derek rounds the table, palms coming to a rest on her shoulders, lips dipping down to press a quiet kiss to the back of her neck. He toys with her hair and soothes her back for a few minutes before he can feel her begin to relax.
"They aren't coming. They're in Italy and they're too busy apparently. And Archer won't pick up his phone when I call anymore. He hates sick people."
"Oh," Derek whispers just above her ear. He watches her fall forward, elbows stopping on her knees, hand hanging, gasping for breath as the emotional tidal wave rolls once more.
"She said that there would be other parties, that we could...simply have a-another child."
He slides her easily off the chair and feels her begin to sob against him, making out every other word. Half under the table, limbs uncomfortably tangled together, he holds her until the shaking subsides into deep controlled breaths, tears clinging to her eyelashes. "I love you," is all he can sacrifice up as a condolence.
"Love you too," Addison mumbles sheepishly, her meltdown obviously embarrassing and unwanted.
"It'll be a good party."
"Yeah."
Instead of taking the calm time to talk rationally with her he chooses to say, "We need to stop letting Lilly see us fight. That's not good for anyone."
"I don't want to fight anymore," Addison answers, feeling her body begin to tighten again despite her words, preparing for the next showdown with anyone but her husband. "We're supposed to be a team Derek."
"I know," he replies, and he does know that, it's just difficult with her determined to do everything on their own. He kisses her once more and then leans back against a table leg, their combined weight making it scoot back slightly against the ornate rug they rest on. "We'll talk about it."
They never do, instead a silent agreement is reached not to yell inside, and to bottle up all of the anger and resentment, sadness and guilt they feel for the greater good of the household.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Lillian's not one hundred percent on the day of her party, but then again they've never seen her at that level. They've had a few scares here and there, the most recent landing them back in a hospital per Addison for half the day, but there is nothing that will stop her from making sure her daughter has the best birthday ever. She patiently winds Lilly's unruly waves into french braids and fastens the yellow ribbon she choose to match her fluffy dress at the curled ends. "Stop squirming or I can't finish," Addison warns her.
"Are you done now?" Lilly asks after a few minutes of being still.
"Not yet."
"Everyone is gonna be there?"
"Yes," Addison answers, working her way back up to a loose section and redoing it properly. She hasn't had much time to play with Lilly's hair lately and she's sorely out of practice.
"Daddy said there is a horsey."
"There might be," Addison confirms, remembering the money they had to throw down for a basic pony ride. Licenses, company release forms, it went on and on. But it will be worth it.
"And I can ride as much as I want?"
"We have to give other people turns too. Your cousins will want to ride."
"'kay," Lilly agrees and begins swinging her anxious feet over the chair once more. "Is Uncle Mark comin'?"
"Yes," Addison answers again, waiting for her to run down the list of party guests individually.
"There's my girls," Derek greets, slipping in from the mess of people that wanted to meet at their home before heading to the park. "Nice dress Lil. And you don't look so bad either," Derek tacks on, enjoying Addison's slimming body in a tight little number he didn't know she owned.
"Gee thanks," Addison smiles, the look wearing well on her for once. Nothing will happen today, the world isn't that cruel.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I think..." Addison poses, clambering on top of her husband who resides on the couch (trying to catch a moment of quiet after a busy day of family and cake). "We should have another."
"Horse?" Derek jokes, stilling her fueled reactions.
"Child," she says as her fingers reach for more shirt buttons.
"No," Derek answers more sternly than intended. It stops her dead though, hands flattening against his chest. "Addie, no." It's non-negotiable at this point.
"Why?"
"Our hands are full right now as it is, we can't...we won't make it through another pregnancy. Why would you even-"
"I was reading Mayes' article in-"
"She doesn't have that kind of time Honey," Derek shushes her from explaining the new medical procedure and her analysis of how Baby Shepherd #2 could save their world. It's too risky, and no child should be born into that.
"She might," Addison argues instinctively. And she could, it's hard to gage, she's too close to the situation to see the truth anymore."Maybe Bizzy was right."
He'd like to shake her until the spectacled clouds of confusion come to a halt, throw her in the dryer and see if she can possibly come out unwrinkled with hope. The ideas of a mad woman are driving him toward the edge, and the admittance that her mother could ever be accurate about anything involving their lives or children in general is way off base. "Bizzy is never right...and we aren't going to make a...substitution."
"It could save her!" She reaches a hand down for the poignant article she's been pouring over for days. It may work, just a small transplant, they could at least attempt it after both of their genes failed to help.
"It won't," he assures her, brushing a chunk of red behind her ear and letting her lay down against him.
"We have to try," Addison whimpers a few minutes later, the flickering light of the television grabbing her attention.
"Addison, there is no more trying. You know that. I want to enjoy our time at home with her, that's the point in this."
"I never agreed to bring her home-"
"You signed-"
"Like I had a choice in that room."
He waits until a commercial comes, both watching baseball highlights, Addison completely lost. "It kills me to watch her suffer. I'm doing everything I can think of but you keep pushing me away. I can't force you to accept...it, but I can ask...I want us to be a family for her, a better family. Okay?"
"We are-"
"We aren't right now. We argue constantly, working against each other's progress. We need to be together, united," Derek tells her, as if she has no clue about what is happening to them. It's painful, all of it, but death is nearing their street and he will not be able to handle that without his wife. To lose both of them is unimaginable. "You need to give up the fight, please. For her Addie, you need to let her go."
"I can't," she says instantly. If it was an option she may have considered it.
"I can't do this without you," Derek confides.
Unfortunately Addison feels better equipped in this without him at her side. "I don't want to do this at all.”
~-~-~-~-~-~
Addison painstakingly applies a bit more lotion to the bottom of Lilly's drying feet, begging and pleading with whoever is out there to let her child wake up from this recent spell. Her thumbs smooth over the soft skin carefully, making sure her tiny pink toes get attention as well. Derek's finally passed out on the other side of the room after staying awake for over a day waiting to see if Lilly would wake up for more than ten minutes at a time. To see if she could answer them without being completely disorientated.
Addison adjusts the tubes of the oxygen machine that are providing Lilly with better air and sighs. It's been downhill since the birthday, as if she was waiting for that, and is now content to give out. "I'm sorry," she whispers to the darkened room, hands automatically winding into her sleeves awkwardly.
"I'm sorry," she says softly again, chin trembling. "I just...thought...then that a baby would be too much but you aren't too much, you weren't. I didn't know. I was selfish. I should've stayed at home longer, I should've worked less. Maybe we could have caught it sooner." She wipes her cheek with the back of her hand, atoning for all of her sins, just in case. "I could have been better, I'm sorry."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Derek awakens to the sound of his wife's cries across the room, a rambling speech about how she never wanted a child, and how wrong she was. It's news to him, but in hindsight, he shouldn't be surprised. Addison was uninvolved with her pregnancy in the beginning, hateful almost. She was upset that she had to run out of surgeries, angry that she needed to take time away from her career. But that was then, and now, he has no doubt that she loves their girl more than anything in the world.
It may have taken a small journey, but it's irrelevant. He straightens slowly, rolling over, Addison too distraught to notice. He'll allow her to have this. This is theirs, mother and daughter, without his interruptions. He closes his eyes, clenches his teeth, and pretends he's ignorant to the scene a few feet away.
~-~-~-~-~-~
The sky is littered with streetlights beginning to gain strength, sun breaking away. Horns, and voices waft through the evening air and carry themselves to Addison's location behind the brownstone. Her feet are pushed into old sandals, legs covered by the same jeans she wore yesterday. Eyes red, cheeks pale, skin hanging on bones. She feels worse than she looks though.
"She's asleep again," Derek mentions, joining her, both staring out at the park just a ways off. He takes the cigarette from her fingers with resignation and draws it to his own mouth, inhaling deeply. It tastes like crap and he chokes as he hands it back, but there's something about the action that breeds control, something they are both desperate for. They share the rest, and then she strikes another. "Want dinner?"
"Not hungry," she answers automatically.
"Should probably eat though."
"I can't," Addison says with a quick shake of the head, wild hair doing as it pleases. The humidity and her lack of styling gives way to nature.
"Me neither," Derek sighs, stealing the smoke from her.
Addison bites her lip as he has his turn. It's coming now, painfully slow, the beginning of the end. She knows all the signs, is acutely aware of how much fluid and food her daughter will tolerate, notices a distinct lack of care and wonder in her eyes. She would rather die herself than to keep on watching the same scene on repeat every hour of the last week.
Sometimes they run ice chips over her cracked lips, other times they manage to rouse her enough to swallow her meds. One day she's up and playing Guess Who and Operation with them, the next she's barely conscious. The roller coaster keeps on chugging along, dragging everyone. "We...I should call Dorothy."
"Yeah," Derek agrees. Tomorrow, according to their schedule, should be one of those nerve-racking days when Lilly is down.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"It's time," Dorothy tells them sadly, meeting in the hallway just outside the bedroom they've both basically moved in to. "You should probably prepare yourselves."
"Okay," Derek answers for them both, Addison clinging to his hand, turned into his chest.
"Talk to her," Dorothy tells them as they begin to walk away. "Tell her...everything. Say goodbye, tell her it's okay to go now. It's important to talk, so she doesn't feel alone."
"How long?" Derek swallows roughly, as Addison makes a quick getaway before she starts crying in front of a stranger.
"Could be hours, could be days," Dorothy says honestly. She's no guessing machine but through the years she's gotten fairly good at this. "I'd say you probably have another day or so. Her body is shutting down. We can increase her medication, make sure she doesn't feel anything."
"She's already-"
"Derek," Dorothy stops him, her hand on his shoulder, "I know you're worried about the level of medication in her system being unhealthy but you need to understand that at this point, it doesn't matter. What does is being there for you daughter in her last hours."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Four days later they find themselves still waiting, though there's been obvious deterioration. She's not their Lillian anymore, she's a body struggling to fade away. They watch with ragged eyes, torn hearts, as she breathes shallowly and slowly.
Derek takes his daughter's hand, watching her grow restless, murmuring something unintelligible. "She's waiting on you Addie. You need to let her go. Tell her it's okay to go now. We'll be okay."
His voice grabs her attention. He looks...broken. With a surge of courage she drops her head on the lightly colored pillow her daughter sleeps on and whispers something she hopes she'll never have to say again. When she pulls back she nods at Derek and takes Lilly's free hand, still warm to the touch, for the time being.
~-~-~-~-~-~
The clock in the room says it 6:43 am when Derek opens his eyes. He glances at Addison, curled into the small armchair next to the bed still clutching Lilly's hand. It feels different suddenly and he turns with renewed fear to find her chest nearly quiet, lungs struggling to get up and down. He slips into the bed, pushing down the sheets, and pulls her flush against his chest whispering that it's alright and that he's got her.
He leaves Addison to her sleep, holding on tightly, checking for a pulse every ten minutes. At 7:06 he no longer finds one. At 8:19 he finally manages to pull it together enough to wake his wife. "Addie."
"Hrm?" she responds still asleep.
He stares helplessly when her eyes open, knowing this is the moment that will forever change her, a mother with no child to speak of. His mouth opens but all he can do is sputter until the tears claim him once more. She scurries onto the bed, making sure he's right.
Sunday morning floods the soon-to-be hot summer day, lightly coating them in a memory they will never forget, a time that will not be spoken of.
"She's gone."
~-~-~-~-~-~
A/N: I just want to give my sincere thanks to everyone who is still around for this story. I appreciate it greatly, especially with this one.