Title: Skip the Charades
Pairing/Character(s): Derek/Addison, Derek, Addison, Nancy, and Amelia.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: For
bluberrykisses, some sibling bickering (angst!?), with Addison as a (sleeping) bystander.
A/N: Two more to go! Enjoy-
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Skip the Charades
- Cold War Kids
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
“See, she's fine,” Derek mutters under his breath, looking around his living room, occasionally glancing down at his sleeping wife. Her cheeks are brushed with a pale red, her nose raw, hair sticky on her forehead.
“When's the last time you were even here?” Amelia asks nosily, snooping around the brownstone to only find Addison's books with dog-eared, her favorite bottle of wine empty on the coffee table.
“Amy-” Nancy begins to scold, then decides to drop it. Playing referee between her younger siblings was never her favorite chore, and they never seemed to get along.
“I have patients,” Derek sighs, resigning himself to shrugging out of his coat and throwing it over the back of the chair that he admittedly hasn't seen all week. He didn't know Addison was sick, he didn't know she wasn't at work today, and for however badly that makes him feel (and he does, because she hates being sick and because he's an ass for not noticing) he does have patients. He tries to rearrange his schedule mentally so that he can be home tonight, for more than four hours just to pass out, and comes up with nothing.
Addison is a surgeon. She'd understand, if she were awake. It's part of what makes them so great.
“That's good...that's just wonderful,” Nancy formulates carefully, catching the glare from Amy out of the corner of her eye. “Think of Addison as your patient. VIP patient-”
“You've been talking to Kathleen,” Amelia adds for no reason. No one comes up with this shit randomly.
“Kathleen is not in my marriage,” Derek hisses, warning them both not to report home to their mother. Not that Amy would. Not that she's on speaking terms with anyone but Addison, who for some reason chooses to only see good in the wild child.
“That'd be weird,” Amelia laughs, getting a tough punch in the shoulder from her older sister.
“Why are you even here?” Derek questions, twirling his hands through his fresh hair. A better question would be how he managed to get himself kidnapped in broad daylight by these two buffoons. He's usually much better at escaping them.
“Mom's out of town. I have Amy,” Kathleen reminds him. At her age she shouldn't need a babysitter, yet she does.
“She's fine,” Derek says softly, looking over his wife once more. Sure her blanket is falling off and she's curled tightly into the couch clutching a pillow. She's a little rough around the edges, flannel pajamas all twisted, but he's seen her worse. “She needs to rest, not to wake up to us all arguing.”
“Profound, Dr. Shepherd, profound,” Amelia asserts, throwing herself onto the chair, crumpling Derek's winter coat in the process.
“I'll stay,” Nancy offers, clasping her hands together. “I can stay.”
“Screw that, Derek should stay. We're supposed to go watch a movie. You promised,” Amelia reminds her sister.
“Amy-” Derek grunts. She's going to ruin this. He can't be here when she wakes up, vulnerable, needy. He just can't. “Look, Mark had this last week. He was fine in a few days, she just needs to sleep.”
Without anyone looking in her direction, Amelia grins to herself and shakes her head. “Maybe Mark should come sit here then,” she suggests coyly.
“For once in your life you have a decent idea,” Derek compliments, already reaching for his phone. He can't afford to catch this. It's too important of a week to jeopardize his career for a cold.
“Derek,” Nancy interjects, trying to stop him. She knows. She has known, about everything. It's the perfect opportunity to get both her brother and her sister in-law to slow down and stay in the same room for more than a few hours. They need this, desperately, and Derek is going to throw it away. “Mark has better things to do with his weekend, I'm sure.”
“You mean better people to do this weekend,” Amelia corrects.
“Amy!” Both Derek and Nancy shout and then grimace as Addison stretches out on the couch before recoiling.
“I'm calling him,” Derek commands, catching Nancy's rolled eyes and proceeding anyway. Four minutes and a little harassment later, it's a done deal. “He's on his way, with soup.”
“Derek,” Nancy whispers, pulling him aside, closer to the kitchen. “This is your wife,” she continues in a low voice, “not Mark's. This is Addison. She doesn't call in sick. She goes in sick.”
“It's just a bug,” Derek refutes. It's been knocking people out left and right at work. It's circulating like his friend, Mark.
“She needs you here. Not Mark.”
“I don't have time for this Nancy. I do not have time. I've already had to cancel one of my surgeries thanks to your shenanigans. I have to go. Stay and wait for Mark. Leave. I don't care. I'm already gone,” Derek seethes, backing away, sneaking a peek at Amy who is thumbing through one of his medical journals from three months ago.
“Since when are your patients more important than her?” Nancy demands, waiving wildly at the couch.
The only answer she gets is the front door slamming seconds later, his coat abandoned in haste.
“Der-ek...” Addison squeaks, rolling over, feeling her stomach pitch and churn as she moves.
“It's just me,” Nancy tells her soothingly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Mark's on his way.”
“That'll cheer her up,” Amelia snickers, licking her finger and then flipping the page.
“I'm going to be sick,” Addison mumbles, fighting with her blanket to get free and make a break for it.
Nancy eases her off the couch and helps her down the hall, sliding down the wall outside of the bathroom and kicking out her feet. She has better things to do, she has patients too. But Derek's always been more important, too big to own his messes. “Ass,” she huffs to herself.
“So...no movie then?” Amelia yells, her voice bouncing off the wedding pictures on the white walls.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~