Too Young To Hold On: Part 2
Too Young To Hold On: Part 2
Title: Too Young to Hold On
Paring: Derek/Callie
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be defamatory or factual in anyway.
Summary: There is no process to grief. No step by step program. Sometimes you just fall straight into destruction.
For Megan
#########
And I know it aches
How your heart, it breaks
You can only take so much...
Walk on
#########
It's been a week. The bags under his eyes are impossibly dark. His shoulders ache and he has a headache that won't go away. He's got Callie handbag in his hands and as he stares down at the clutch, he wonders how it's possible that it's been an entire week without her purse and he's not heard from her yet.
He's curious as to what she was carrying that day, and why she can't bother to call him and ask if she'd left it in his car. She hasn't been to work of course, and maybe she hasn't even been out much, but he wonders nonetheless. Inside, there is a tube of lip balm, tissue, a wallet, and way down, tucked in a corner of material, her wedding band and engagement ring...and Mark's wedding band. He digs them out, holding them between his thumb and index finger. He lets them fall back into the purse and he sucks in a deep breath as he looks over to his right at the house he's been avoiding since he found the small clutch tucked under the passenger seat.
Mark splurged on this house. Four bedrooms, a guest house and a huge yard. They were definitely thinking about kids. As he walks up the pathway to the front door, Derek feels a sudden heavy tension weigh down on his shoulders and he misses him. Really misses him and all he can do is clear his throat, his mind, of anymore of this dread.
He rings the doorbell and after a minute of no sign of answer, he looks over, making sure Callie's car is in fact in the driveway. He knocks. No answer.
Taking a chance that maybe Addison will be there, he turns the knob. Door unlocked is a definite sign of someone being home. He steps in slowly, looking around the foyer as he shuts the door behind him and calls out, "Hello?"
There's a thud upstairs and his eyes immediately travel in that direction, "Addie?" He calls expectedly. There is a pause. And then a loud thud.
He springs up the stairs, hurrying through the long corridor until reaching the door to Callie's bedroom. The door rests ajar and he bursts in without asking for permission.
The room looks a disaster area. drawers are hanging open at dressers, there are clothes, shoes and boxes everywhere and as he takes a closer look, Derek realizes it is all male clothes--male shoes--Mark's clothes--Mark's shoes.
"Addison, get out, I'm really not in the mood right now--" Callie says sternly and out of breath as she steps out of the walk in closet, arms full of designer suits, hair which was initially tied back, falling over her eyes as she looks up and stops for only a second at seeing him, "--oh, it's you...thought you were Addison." But she resumes her task unaffected by the interruption. She steps over piles of things before dropping the suits onto the large, king sized bed, which has been stripped bare, while the bed sheets lay in a pile on the floor.
He doesn't have to guess what's going on. He knows exactly. But he's shocked nonetheless. In the midst of it all, he finds the voice to speak, "You uh...you left your purse in my car."
"Thanks for bringing it by." She replies in the most coldly non chalant manner. It should make him nervous. It should start ringing some bells, but after the initial shock, he's most bothered by the mess keeping him from moving anywhere than the actual act itself.
"What are you going to do with all his stuff?"
One by one, she's dropping suits into a box and she shrugs, "I don't know. Salvation Army or something."
"You're getting rid of ALL of it?"
"Yeah. What am I going to do with it?"
"The bed sheets, too?"
She doesn't answer. She's tiring of answering questions. Addison's mostly, but she's tired of explaining herself. She can't breathe with his things in the house. All she feels is a squeezing of her heart that doesn't stop. She stops folding clothes and simply throws them in the box as quickly as possible, "Is there anything you need, Derek?" She asks, exasperated by his mere presence.
"No." He says frankly as he drops her purse on the only uncrowned corner on a nearby table. Without another reply, he picks up and unassembled cardboard box and within seconds, he's packing things into it.
She watches him wearily out the corner of her eye, silently accepting his help.
They go about this in utter silence. They fold and pack. Fold and pack until most of it is cleared up. He sees her pick up a medium sized box after closing it up.
The entire contents fall out from the bottom and she kicks the pile of shoes repeatedly until they're scattered around the room again, "Shit!" She soon finds the impact from kicking expensive shoes around not satisfying enough, and so she kicks another nearby box, tipping it right over, "FUCK!" She shouts in frustration, kicking the securely shut container about five more times until its contents are emptied as well.
He rushes to her, attempting to grab one arm and failing, "Callie, stop--" She's a flood of rage as she shrugs him off, ripping the box that started this whole mess into shreds, "Alright!" He exclaims, grabbing both of her wrists tightly, pulling her roughly against him to stop her tugging away, "STOP IT!"
She's panting, her body heated, her heart racing, her bones shaking. She sinks to the floor, shuts her eyes and winces at hearing her own wheezing breath. It takes her a moment to realize he's kneeled in front of her and still holding her wrists.
"You don't have to take everything out now." He tells her calmly, slowly releasing his hold on her, "We can put everything in the garage and--find a place to send it to later."
"Okay." She manages in between breaths as she nods. "Okay." She looks up at him slowly and frowns, "I'm so...PISSED off all the time."
"Yeah."
He looks completely devastated, she can't get herself to fully understand it just yet. There is a large fraction of devastation and sadness within her, that's true. Nights and nights of crying into her pillow cannot tell otherwise, but it's the anger that makes her different from him. There isn't anything that can change that for her. Nothing can take it away. She just feels angry. At her room for being so damn bright, at Addison for being so god damn understanding and sweet. At Derek for being so FUCKING pathetically sad--at her own heart for still beating. She can't allow the sadness to swallow her. Not yet. So, she's decided to clear out all of him. She hopes that getting rid of everything in mere sight will help the part of him inside of her disperse faster.
Still, looking at Derek, she sees an understanding.
Slowly, he releases his hold on her and while she sits there, her ankles starting to ache slightly at the awkward position she's sitting in. he continues to pack the last of it while she stares at her hands in a trance. She stares at her ring finger and touches the bare skin.
"It's in your purse." He assures her.
She looks up, not fully registering his statement.
"Your ring...his ring, too." He clarifies while he seals the last box, "They're in your purse."
"Oh...thanks."
"What's going on here?" Addison asks, coming up to stand in the doorway, car keys gripped tightly in her grasp, and not at all pleased as she turns to look at Derek, "You're HELPING her? You're supporting this?"
"Jesus Christ..." Callie mumbles with an eye, disappearing quickly into her bathroom, slamming the door to send a clear message.
The redhead glares back at Derek. Funny how she still looks at him like she has the right to yell at him even after years of being divorced, he thinks. "Unbelievable..." She scoffs, turning on her heel, angry, determined footsteps leading her away.
He thinks about checking on Callie, maybe knocking on the door to make sure she's okay. But something tells him to go instead. This isn't his problem to fix. And if there's going to an argument between the two women, he'd rather not be there to referee.
He gets as far as the last step of the staircase before Addison rounds a corner and glares him down, hands on her hips, "She should not be doing that now, it's too early--"
"Addison, she's a grown woman, she can do what she wants--"
"I can't believe you were helping her get rid of his stuff!"
Now, he's getting a headache, "Look, she left her purse in my car, I came to drop it off and she was dragging around heavy boxes, I wasn't going to let her hurt herself, so I helped her! That's all."
"She's not READY!"
"Addison, he was not your husband, he was hers and she can do what she wants so leave her alone! And leave me alone while you're at it because I'm not your husband anymore either." He flings the door open and it hits the wall as he leaves her staring, mouth open in shock, her fingers digging into her hips with anger.
Title: Too Young to Hold On
Paring: Derek/Callie
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be defamatory or factual in anyway.
Summary: There is no process to grief. No step by step program. Sometimes you just fall straight into destruction.
For Megan
#########
And I know it aches
How your heart, it breaks
You can only take so much...
Walk on
#########
It's been a week. The bags under his eyes are impossibly dark. His shoulders ache and he has a headache that won't go away. He's got Callie handbag in his hands and as he stares down at the clutch, he wonders how it's possible that it's been an entire week without her purse and he's not heard from her yet.
He's curious as to what she was carrying that day, and why she can't bother to call him and ask if she'd left it in his car. She hasn't been to work of course, and maybe she hasn't even been out much, but he wonders nonetheless. Inside, there is a tube of lip balm, tissue, a wallet, and way down, tucked in a corner of material, her wedding band and engagement ring...and Mark's wedding band. He digs them out, holding them between his thumb and index finger. He lets them fall back into the purse and he sucks in a deep breath as he looks over to his right at the house he's been avoiding since he found the small clutch tucked under the passenger seat.
Mark splurged on this house. Four bedrooms, a guest house and a huge yard. They were definitely thinking about kids. As he walks up the pathway to the front door, Derek feels a sudden heavy tension weigh down on his shoulders and he misses him. Really misses him and all he can do is clear his throat, his mind, of anymore of this dread.
He rings the doorbell and after a minute of no sign of answer, he looks over, making sure Callie's car is in fact in the driveway. He knocks. No answer.
Taking a chance that maybe Addison will be there, he turns the knob. Door unlocked is a definite sign of someone being home. He steps in slowly, looking around the foyer as he shuts the door behind him and calls out, "Hello?"
There's a thud upstairs and his eyes immediately travel in that direction, "Addie?" He calls expectedly. There is a pause. And then a loud thud.
He springs up the stairs, hurrying through the long corridor until reaching the door to Callie's bedroom. The door rests ajar and he bursts in without asking for permission.
The room looks a disaster area. drawers are hanging open at dressers, there are clothes, shoes and boxes everywhere and as he takes a closer look, Derek realizes it is all male clothes--male shoes--Mark's clothes--Mark's shoes.
"Addison, get out, I'm really not in the mood right now--" Callie says sternly and out of breath as she steps out of the walk in closet, arms full of designer suits, hair which was initially tied back, falling over her eyes as she looks up and stops for only a second at seeing him, "--oh, it's you...thought you were Addison." But she resumes her task unaffected by the interruption. She steps over piles of things before dropping the suits onto the large, king sized bed, which has been stripped bare, while the bed sheets lay in a pile on the floor.
He doesn't have to guess what's going on. He knows exactly. But he's shocked nonetheless. In the midst of it all, he finds the voice to speak, "You uh...you left your purse in my car."
"Thanks for bringing it by." She replies in the most coldly non chalant manner. It should make him nervous. It should start ringing some bells, but after the initial shock, he's most bothered by the mess keeping him from moving anywhere than the actual act itself.
"What are you going to do with all his stuff?"
One by one, she's dropping suits into a box and she shrugs, "I don't know. Salvation Army or something."
"You're getting rid of ALL of it?"
"Yeah. What am I going to do with it?"
"The bed sheets, too?"
She doesn't answer. She's tiring of answering questions. Addison's mostly, but she's tired of explaining herself. She can't breathe with his things in the house. All she feels is a squeezing of her heart that doesn't stop. She stops folding clothes and simply throws them in the box as quickly as possible, "Is there anything you need, Derek?" She asks, exasperated by his mere presence.
"No." He says frankly as he drops her purse on the only uncrowned corner on a nearby table. Without another reply, he picks up and unassembled cardboard box and within seconds, he's packing things into it.
She watches him wearily out the corner of her eye, silently accepting his help.
They go about this in utter silence. They fold and pack. Fold and pack until most of it is cleared up. He sees her pick up a medium sized box after closing it up.
The entire contents fall out from the bottom and she kicks the pile of shoes repeatedly until they're scattered around the room again, "Shit!" She soon finds the impact from kicking expensive shoes around not satisfying enough, and so she kicks another nearby box, tipping it right over, "FUCK!" She shouts in frustration, kicking the securely shut container about five more times until its contents are emptied as well.
He rushes to her, attempting to grab one arm and failing, "Callie, stop--" She's a flood of rage as she shrugs him off, ripping the box that started this whole mess into shreds, "Alright!" He exclaims, grabbing both of her wrists tightly, pulling her roughly against him to stop her tugging away, "STOP IT!"
She's panting, her body heated, her heart racing, her bones shaking. She sinks to the floor, shuts her eyes and winces at hearing her own wheezing breath. It takes her a moment to realize he's kneeled in front of her and still holding her wrists.
"You don't have to take everything out now." He tells her calmly, slowly releasing his hold on her, "We can put everything in the garage and--find a place to send it to later."
"Okay." She manages in between breaths as she nods. "Okay." She looks up at him slowly and frowns, "I'm so...PISSED off all the time."
"Yeah."
He looks completely devastated, she can't get herself to fully understand it just yet. There is a large fraction of devastation and sadness within her, that's true. Nights and nights of crying into her pillow cannot tell otherwise, but it's the anger that makes her different from him. There isn't anything that can change that for her. Nothing can take it away. She just feels angry. At her room for being so damn bright, at Addison for being so god damn understanding and sweet. At Derek for being so FUCKING pathetically sad--at her own heart for still beating. She can't allow the sadness to swallow her. Not yet. So, she's decided to clear out all of him. She hopes that getting rid of everything in mere sight will help the part of him inside of her disperse faster.
Still, looking at Derek, she sees an understanding.
Slowly, he releases his hold on her and while she sits there, her ankles starting to ache slightly at the awkward position she's sitting in. he continues to pack the last of it while she stares at her hands in a trance. She stares at her ring finger and touches the bare skin.
"It's in your purse." He assures her.
She looks up, not fully registering his statement.
"Your ring...his ring, too." He clarifies while he seals the last box, "They're in your purse."
"Oh...thanks."
"What's going on here?" Addison asks, coming up to stand in the doorway, car keys gripped tightly in her grasp, and not at all pleased as she turns to look at Derek, "You're HELPING her? You're supporting this?"
"Jesus Christ..." Callie mumbles with an eye, disappearing quickly into her bathroom, slamming the door to send a clear message.
The redhead glares back at Derek. Funny how she still looks at him like she has the right to yell at him even after years of being divorced, he thinks. "Unbelievable..." She scoffs, turning on her heel, angry, determined footsteps leading her away.
He thinks about checking on Callie, maybe knocking on the door to make sure she's okay. But something tells him to go instead. This isn't his problem to fix. And if there's going to an argument between the two women, he'd rather not be there to referee.
He gets as far as the last step of the staircase before Addison rounds a corner and glares him down, hands on her hips, "She should not be doing that now, it's too early--"
"Addison, she's a grown woman, she can do what she wants--"
"I can't believe you were helping her get rid of his stuff!"
Now, he's getting a headache, "Look, she left her purse in my car, I came to drop it off and she was dragging around heavy boxes, I wasn't going to let her hurt herself, so I helped her! That's all."
"She's not READY!"
"Addison, he was not your husband, he was hers and she can do what she wants so leave her alone! And leave me alone while you're at it because I'm not your husband anymore either." He flings the door open and it hits the wall as he leaves her staring, mouth open in shock, her fingers digging into her hips with anger.