How Far We've Come(6/?)
Chapter 6: Beauty in the Breakdown
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Summary: Because Maddison is far from over....
When Mark stands and offers a hand to her, it takes only a second before Addison concedes and allows him to pull her from the stairs. He pulls her close and offers his support by placing an arm around her waist. In a minute, Addison realizes she’s been vulnerable enough for the day and wrenches herself from his grasp.
“Thanks, Mark.” She offers him a smile and tries to prove to him that she is in fact alright and capable of walking on her own accord. “I just want to get back to my next patient.” And when she begins to leave, realization strikes. “Damn it.”
Mark knows she came with her patient in an ambulance and is now virtually stranded at the hospital. “I’ll drive you back.”
The short drive is quiet and tense, the fact that they haven’t spoken about the fight yet weighing heavily on each of their minds.
“So….”Mark begins, laughing slightly.
Addison does nothing more than laugh a little herself, not yet willing to talk about it. It isn’t until Mark has pulled into the parking lot of the Wellness Clinic that she realizes what time it is and that any patient she did have scheduled today is no longer waiting on her arrival.
“I don’t have anything to do here,” she simply states, her voice small and though her red sports car is visible from where they are, Addison gives Mark directions and he begins to drive, the worry about getting to work the next day forgotten.
He steps out of the car so that he can walk her to the door and admire the scenery. “So, you’re really living at the beach.”
“Yeah,” she quickly responds, not sure what else there is to say. “It’s soothing.” She looks at him and for some reason feels the need to clarify. “The waves are.”
“Doesn’t beat the sound of people screaming and car horns blaring though.” He smirks.
“Of course not.” she states sarcastically while unlocking the door.
She walks in and holds the door open though she isn’t sure why. She doesn’t know what she’ll say to him if he stays, but she can’t close him out, not again.
He isn’t sure he should go in, so he stands looking for some sign that she wants him to. When she moves slightly out of the doorway, he makes his decision and walks past her into the house. He came for her. He isn’t going to bow out and run back to Seattle now.
After a quick tour of the house that makes putting off a meaningful conversation easier, Mark notices that Addison is on the brink of tears and convinces her that a hot bath might make her feel better and since this would give both a chance to think of something to say, she agrees, leaving Mark to roam through the house.
He prepares dinner while she bathes, something he’s never been amazing at, but he likes to think there are a few meals he can make without burning them or sending the unlucky victims that eat it to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped. It’s a simple pasta dish that really would be hard to screw up, but he takes pride in it.
When he reaches her room and moves to the adjoining bathroom to knock and inform her dinner is ready and will be cold if she takes too much longer, he hears the masked sobs and stops himself. She’s always been the hardest on herself, taking on everyone’s problems as her own, so that when it comes to her own problems, that task of so much weight on her shoulders becomes too much.
He decides he’ll simply wait for her to finish, so he moves to the bed and sits, the many boxes that still fill the room scattered about. He smiles when he notices the shoe box on her nightstand and can’t believe she’s kept the shoes for so long especially since he’s certain of her disdain for them. The fact that he never once saw the shoes on her feet was proof enough despite the fake smile she gave upon receiving them.
Removing the lid, he has to take in a deep breath when he sees that it is anything but expensive, hated shoes inside the box. He picks up the image of his child, one she never shared with him, and he can’t help but let a surge of anger shoot through his body. This little being that was a part of him and Addison that he had been excited about. He sees the clothing he bought for what would be their son or daughter and lets the anger subside. She kept these things. When she could have rid herself of the memory of this child ever existing, this tie between the two of them, she kept them as a reminder.
When he hears her movement and the sobs have ceased, he places the picture back and puts the box where he left it, walking to the living room to watch the game he had planned to watch with Derek and when she walks out of the bedroom, ten minutes later, he smiles at how beautiful she is when she simply leaves her hair alone to dry on its own and decides against makeup.
“I made dinner,” he says when he stands up and turns the game off despite the homerun that just took place.
“Turn it back on,” she encourages. “I know this is a big game and we can eat in here.”
When both are situated with plates of pasta and their drink of choice: a glass of wine for Addison, and a beer for Mark that he was surprised to find she had, they settle into a quiet rhythm of eating and watching the game, looking to the other on occasion. And it takes twenty minutes before either of them work up the courage to bring it up.
“I saw it,” Mark states so ambiguously which causes her forehead to crinkle in confusion. “In the shoebox.”
She immediately knows what he’s talking about. “Oh.”
“You didn’t show it to me,” the pain in his voice is so blunt that all Addison wants to do is get up and run so she can cry in peace because she never wants to hear that much hurt and know that she’s to blame.
“I’m sorry, Mark.” And now she can’t stop the tears from falling. “If I could…”
And then before she can finish her regret, she’s being pulled into his arms again and he’s promising that he doesn’t hate her for what she’s done despite her protests that he should.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m being punished for it now.” She says after a few moments and she’s coming off bitter and sarcastic now and really doesn’t mean to, but life is making it too hard to be optimistic or anything of the sort.
Now it’s Mark’s turn to be confused by such a vague statement. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t get pregnant. My FSH Level is high and my antral follicle count is only 2. I lost my chance. God is punishing me.” She clings to him and the crying that racks her body is so severe that his body is shaking because of the movement.
“Addi.” He tries to get her attention. “Addison, listen to me,” but if she can hear him over her sobs, she isn’t giving any indication. He all but screams her name again before she finally looks at him and her heartbeat seems to return to its normal pace. “Addison, baby, God is not punishing you and just because there might be problems, does not mean it won’t happen. There’s still a chance.”
“I’m so sorry,” is a phrase that leaves her lips so often throughout the next few hours that it doesn’t even sound like words anymore to Mark who continuously traces patterns on her back in a soothing motion as she goes through every emotion.
He continues to run a hand through her hair when she begins to pound his chest in an angry fit of I hate you’s and places kisses in her hair when she retracts everything she ever said about his parenting abilities and wipes the tears that fall when she repeatedly apologizes for the mistake she made by sleeping with an intern.
It’s midnight when Mark realizes that she’s completely silent and the sound of her breathing indicates that she’s sleeping now, so he picks the redhead up and carries her to bed, covering her loosely with a blanket. He leans down and swiftly places a kiss on her cheek before moving to make sure windows and doors are locked before he can allow himself to leave her here alone. He doesn’t make it to the door though because he hears her small plea.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
And so he removes his clothing until he’s down to boxers and an undershirt, and then lies beside her, closer to the edge for fear of making her uncomfortable. He feels her hand pulling on his, though, and realizes that she needs more than an absent person huddling away from her. She needs to feel safe, loved, so when he turns around, she immediately pushes herself back against him and pulls him arm over her waist so that she can be closer, entwining her hand with his over her stomach. With one leg between his and her head safely nuzzled in the crook of his neck, she lets out a sigh before Mark can tell that she’s actually sleeping peacefully. He’s more content than he’s been in a long time and finds that sleep comes so much easier when he’s holding her in his arms.
He hears a quiet “Mark, I love you” and looks over to see her mouth curl up into a smile as he drifts off to sleep.
Previous Chapters located:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3816135/1/How_Far_Weve_Come