"All Someone Thinks About" by troatie
Title: "All Someone Thinks About"
Author: troatie
Recipient: milk_and_glass
Pairing(s)/Gen Partipants: Mark/Addison
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: One last chance, one new leaf and a lot of the same old issues. Set after season 4.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy and its characters are definitely not mine (but oh, if they were...) and I'm making absolutely no profit.
Additional notes: Many, many, many thanks to the wonderful escapismrocks and chris_baby for betaing this for me on ridiculously short notice. They are made of love. And, to my recipient, I hope you'll enjoy this!
“I wish I was all someone thought about.”
He was proud of his little speech. It had been true, sincere and quite insightful, if he might say so himself. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite every time he thought about the fact that he seemed to be the only one in Seattle that wasn’t following his own advice. His own unspoken advice. To be with that person who’s all you think about.
She was all he thought about. She was always there, in the background, keeping him company and making him feel alone, all at once. And he refused to let her step into the foreground of his thoughts, because it was easier to not focus on her - on the lack of her - and go on with his life. Yet, even from that spot at the back of his mind, she managed to show up in every little thing he did, leaving her mark, making every thought that wasn’t about her leave his head for the split second he allowed them to.
She was there every day he went home without having beaten the living hell out of Karev, and every time he let him do a procedure or scrub in on a surgery. Every time he managed to be happy for Derek and Callie, because they did follow his advice. Every time he went to bed alone and felt like he was one step closer to turning that new leaf he always talked about. It was her, even though he was the only one that saw her in those actions. Even though he seemed to be the only one that thought about her and didn’t act as if she’d never existed. And it was ironic - as it always was when she was involved - that it took her leaving for him to finally have her to himself.
And then one day, things changed, like they always do. It was one of those days that mean nothing at all. It wasn’t her birthday, their anniversary, their baby’s would-be due date or any other meaningful date. It was just another regular day, at first sight. Two weeks after Callie followed his advice and went for it with Erica. A little over a week after Derek told him he was happy - once again - with Meredith. Nothing extraordinary that would make it an important one. Except for that little thing that he wasn’t even aware he remembered, let alone counted the days that passed afterwards. One year after he came to Seattle and tried to bring her home with him.
On the anniversary of that day, story repeated itself. She stepped into the foreground of his thoughts, like she’d done one year before, and made it impossible for him to accept that maybe she was better off without him. Because the truth was, he wasn’t better off without her. And he wasn’t one to believe in fate or romance or any of that True Love crap everyone seemed to like so much, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that he liked himself much better - or he only liked himself - when he had her meant that he was actually supposed to be with her.
And so, after giving the Chief notice that he was taking a couple days off, he boarded a plane to find her and try to get her back. And it was ironic, once again, that he was doing it against his better judgment yet following his own advice.
It didn’t take him long to find her house after Callie gave him her address - thanks to that love-induced need to help others be as happy as she was - and he knocked on the door straight away, not wanting to give himself time to think about what he was going to say or do if and when she opened that door. It was always like that with her. Following his instincts and relying on them, with that hope he only had when she was involved and that he took as more proof that he was better - he felt better - with her around.
“Mark?”
She wasn’t smiling, but neither was he. “Hey, Addie.” And she wrapped her arms around herself even though it was far from cold outside, as if she was trying to shield herself from him. “What are you doing here?” She asked it in that way of hers, the one that always made him wonder if she honestly had no idea he was there for her, or if she was just trying to convince herself that he wasn’t. “I’m here to take you home with me.” He didn’t really know what home meant at that point. If it was his hotel room in Seattle or his apartment in Manhattan, or a new place altogether. He had a feeling anywhere would do as long as she came with him. “I am home, Mark. Just… leave.” And she made a move to go back inside, but he stopped her before she could do it. “Listen to me, Mark, we were…” But he didn’t let her finish.
“Will you please stop running away!?” It came out harsher - and more desperate - than he wanted it to, but he had to admit it’d been closer to what he actually felt. “I am not! Listen, Mark, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but…” And he cut her off once again. “No, you listen to me, Addison!” He didn’t know if it was the way he raised his voice, the fact that he used her full name or the novelty of him being the one that had something to say, but she stopped moving and just looked at him, somewhere between shocked and intrigued.
“You are running away! That’s all you do, all the time. You run away from me, because you’re scared out of your mind. Because you know, deep down, that this may just be it. We may just be it. And you’re terrified of admitting to yourself that maybe DerekandAddison wasn’t the be all and end all of love. That maybe, just maybe, we did fall in love, and we did work together, and this is it! You’re scared shitless of giving this a chance now that you can’t hide behind your marriage, or my being a manwhore, or any other crap. You know what, Addison? You’re scared of being happy, because you don’t think you deserve it, and you don’t think I do, either. And you keep running away from me, because you know, somewhere inside that freaking twisted heart of yours, that we would be so happy together that we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves. But you’re too scared to admit that we deserve that!”
She didn’t say a thing. She just stood there, still shocked but not as intrigued anymore. The sound of his breathing -slightly louder than normal after the long speech with almost no pause to take a breath - wasn’t the only sound in the Los Angeles afternoon, but it was the only one that mattered. The only one they were listening to. And he allowed her a moment to think of something to say, a moment that lasted as long as it took his breathing to go back to normal, before he spoke again.
“I’m here to take you home, and this is the last time I’m saying this. It’s the third time I go after you when you run away, and I’m done. I’m not waiting for you at a bar, and I’m not taking a job and sticking around waiting for you. This is it. This is the last time I’m asking you to come home with me. So… come home with me.” And, once again, his words were met with silence. Silence, and Addison looking down when his eyes searched for hers. And that was all he needed to know. Maybe her being all he thought about wasn’t enough. “Goodbye, Addison.”
And he walked away.
---
It was another of those days that meant nothing at all. Two weeks after he said goodbye to Addison - and this time he was well aware of the fact that he was counting - but nothing else to make it remarkable in the slightest. He was sitting at the bar at Joe’s, looking intently at his scotch as if he was going to find some sort of answer in there. Not that he had any questions. It was all perfectly clear. All perfectly ironic. It took giving up on Addison to finally make him turn that damn leaf. But it was what he did, wasn’t it? True to his self-destructive ways, he stopped finding comfort in screwing everything with a pulse the second he actually needed comfort and was free to screw anyone he wanted. It served him right for turning leaves. For going against a man’s right to be who he is.
But the reasons - and whether or not he deserved to be feeling worse than he had in years - was far from the point. The point was, he had a new leaf, and was feeling utterly unimpressed with it. Probably because of the fact that he was still - and, apparently, always would be - a manwhore in Seattle. And he knew he needed a change. He needed to be somewhere where he wasn’t a manwhore, somewhere where he hadn’t moved to run after anyone, and somewhere where Addison and the - this time definite - lack of her wasn’t all he thought about. But that night was - judging by the voice that stopped his train of thought - not the night when he was going to stop thinking about Addison Montgomery.
“I was scared.”
He didn’t turn around. Just so he wouldn’t have another image of her to add to the ones that already haunted him. But he did speak, because it seemed like the thing to do. “You were?” It sounded exactly the way he planned it to. Detached, even though he was feeling far from it. Like some sort of punishment for all the times she didn’t bother to look at him, and she sounded as detached as she felt. And also his way of letting both of them know he meant it when he said he was done. No more forgive and forget. No more putting her first and letting her hurt him just so she would be all right.
“I was. I am. I… you were right.” He answered with a nod, finishing his drink with his back still to her. It seemed like the safest approach. Not seeing her gave him some sort of control over the situation. He could pretend it was just some twisted joke his half-drunk brain was pulling on him. “I am scared. It scares me to think that this thing between us may just be about the obstacles, and how wrong it is. That this will always be a game. And the problem is…” But Mark had heard enough, and he stood up after paying for his drinks. “You know what the problem is, Addison? The problem is that you still haven’t realized that it was never a game.”
And he walked past her towards the door, making a great effort to look straight ahead and not let his eyes meet hers. It was a matter of pride. Something that, apparently, came with his new leaf, because he’d never had it before when she’d been involved. Three times, he’d let her walk all over him. The first time, he told her he loved her, and she let him wait at that same bar for hours, knowing she’d rather stay in a loveless marriage than give him a chance. The second time, he told her how he felt and she slept with an intern after promising him a chance at a real relationship. The third time, he put himself out there and she looked down and let him go. He was determined not to let it happen a fourth time.
But he heard the sound of her heels against the sidewalk before he could hail a cab, followed by her voice behind him, once again. “Don’t you dare get in that cab!” And he stopped on his tracks, half because the no-nonsense tone of her voice was surprising enough to make him turn around, and half because he wouldn’t put it past her to stop him by throwing one of her shoes at his head. “What the hell do you want, Addison?” And she put one of her hands on her hip, looking at him as if the question was both ridiculous and infuriating. “I want you to listen to me! You got to make your little speech, now I get to make mine.” So he closed the door to the cab and stepped away from it, because he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a short conversation, but also because he had to admit she had a point. He crossed his arms in front of him, and he almost thought she was going to do the same when she moved her hand away from her hip, but he soon realized she just needed both hands for the wild hand-gesturing that accompanied her speech.
“The problem is that I can’t run away from you! And I tried - believe me, I tried - but it just won’t work. Because every time I manage to stop thinking about you you come after me, and it all comes back. And now you finally decide not to come after me anymore, and you’re still all I think about. So I give up running and trying not to think about you, because it’s a waste of time. I give up! I’m in love with you, for some unthinkable reason, and against every single logical thought in my brain. And I’m still terrified that this will all be the biggest mistake of my life, and that we’ll both end up hurting, and that you won’t play catch or barbeque, but I want to give us a chance, because I think - and I can’t believe I’m saying this - I think that we’ll be so happy that we won’t know what to do with ourselves. And I think you may just be it, for me. And that’s all. I want to go home with you, whatever that means right now.”
He stayed in silence after she spoke, looking at her and watching her face go from determined to hopeful and then downright horrified, as if she’d just realized what she’d said. And he wanted to say something - anything, really - but he was speechless, for once in his life. But, in his own defense, he had to say it wasn’t easy to form coherent thoughts after she dropped that bomb on him. After she’d said out loud that she loved him, for the first time. After she’d taken a step towards him instead of the other way around, also for the first time. He was only human, after all. “This is… you know. Where you say something.” And Mark put all his energy on forming even a single word - a single affirmative word - but his brain wasn’t cooperating, and he didn’t snap out of it until she started walking away after an almost-whispered goodbye.
“How do you feel about Chicago?”
And that wasn’t really the first thing he wanted to tell her after her speech, but it was all he could manage, and she - like always - also heard the things he didn’t say, and turned around with a half-smile on her face. “Too windy.” So he tried again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking towards some undetermined place. Just walking with her. Another first. “Hartford? And, by the way, I’m offended that you doubt my barbeque skills. Or my baseball ones.” She shook her head, her smile getting wider by the second. “I apologize for doubting your skills. And not Hartford. Too… Connecticut.” And he chuckled at her words, because the woman that was the epitome of “too Connecticut” discarding Hartford for the same reason was nothing short of hilarious. “All right, Boston. It’s my last offer.”
She stopped when they got to the end of the sidewalk, and adopted a thoughtful expression that - in Mark’s experience - could only mean that either she was getting ready for a snarky comment, or she was actually considering his idea. Either way, he tilted her head up and kissed her, to avoid the snark or to thank her for considering his offer, it didn’t really matter at that point. Not when there was another first, right there. Their first kiss that was only about the two of them. Just them, and that feeling they both had of this being it, of them being it for each other. And it left them both breathless and unable to speak for a moment, until she swallowed - hard, and making him smirk - and found her voice. “Boston sounds perfect.”
And, when she kissed him, Mark Sloan - manwhore with a new leaf and a sudden urge to barbeque, play catch and grant every other ridiculous and seemingly nonsensical wish she might think of - while still firmly opposed to the ideas of fate, romance and all of that True Love crap, had to admit that maybe, sometimes, there’s a reason why someone is all you think about.
Author: troatie
Recipient: milk_and_glass
Pairing(s)/Gen Partipants: Mark/Addison
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: One last chance, one new leaf and a lot of the same old issues. Set after season 4.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy and its characters are definitely not mine (but oh, if they were...) and I'm making absolutely no profit.
Additional notes: Many, many, many thanks to the wonderful escapismrocks and chris_baby for betaing this for me on ridiculously short notice. They are made of love. And, to my recipient, I hope you'll enjoy this!
“I wish I was all someone thought about.”
He was proud of his little speech. It had been true, sincere and quite insightful, if he might say so himself. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite every time he thought about the fact that he seemed to be the only one in Seattle that wasn’t following his own advice. His own unspoken advice. To be with that person who’s all you think about.
She was all he thought about. She was always there, in the background, keeping him company and making him feel alone, all at once. And he refused to let her step into the foreground of his thoughts, because it was easier to not focus on her - on the lack of her - and go on with his life. Yet, even from that spot at the back of his mind, she managed to show up in every little thing he did, leaving her mark, making every thought that wasn’t about her leave his head for the split second he allowed them to.
She was there every day he went home without having beaten the living hell out of Karev, and every time he let him do a procedure or scrub in on a surgery. Every time he managed to be happy for Derek and Callie, because they did follow his advice. Every time he went to bed alone and felt like he was one step closer to turning that new leaf he always talked about. It was her, even though he was the only one that saw her in those actions. Even though he seemed to be the only one that thought about her and didn’t act as if she’d never existed. And it was ironic - as it always was when she was involved - that it took her leaving for him to finally have her to himself.
And then one day, things changed, like they always do. It was one of those days that mean nothing at all. It wasn’t her birthday, their anniversary, their baby’s would-be due date or any other meaningful date. It was just another regular day, at first sight. Two weeks after Callie followed his advice and went for it with Erica. A little over a week after Derek told him he was happy - once again - with Meredith. Nothing extraordinary that would make it an important one. Except for that little thing that he wasn’t even aware he remembered, let alone counted the days that passed afterwards. One year after he came to Seattle and tried to bring her home with him.
On the anniversary of that day, story repeated itself. She stepped into the foreground of his thoughts, like she’d done one year before, and made it impossible for him to accept that maybe she was better off without him. Because the truth was, he wasn’t better off without her. And he wasn’t one to believe in fate or romance or any of that True Love crap everyone seemed to like so much, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that he liked himself much better - or he only liked himself - when he had her meant that he was actually supposed to be with her.
And so, after giving the Chief notice that he was taking a couple days off, he boarded a plane to find her and try to get her back. And it was ironic, once again, that he was doing it against his better judgment yet following his own advice.
It didn’t take him long to find her house after Callie gave him her address - thanks to that love-induced need to help others be as happy as she was - and he knocked on the door straight away, not wanting to give himself time to think about what he was going to say or do if and when she opened that door. It was always like that with her. Following his instincts and relying on them, with that hope he only had when she was involved and that he took as more proof that he was better - he felt better - with her around.
“Mark?”
She wasn’t smiling, but neither was he. “Hey, Addie.” And she wrapped her arms around herself even though it was far from cold outside, as if she was trying to shield herself from him. “What are you doing here?” She asked it in that way of hers, the one that always made him wonder if she honestly had no idea he was there for her, or if she was just trying to convince herself that he wasn’t. “I’m here to take you home with me.” He didn’t really know what home meant at that point. If it was his hotel room in Seattle or his apartment in Manhattan, or a new place altogether. He had a feeling anywhere would do as long as she came with him. “I am home, Mark. Just… leave.” And she made a move to go back inside, but he stopped her before she could do it. “Listen to me, Mark, we were…” But he didn’t let her finish.
“Will you please stop running away!?” It came out harsher - and more desperate - than he wanted it to, but he had to admit it’d been closer to what he actually felt. “I am not! Listen, Mark, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but…” And he cut her off once again. “No, you listen to me, Addison!” He didn’t know if it was the way he raised his voice, the fact that he used her full name or the novelty of him being the one that had something to say, but she stopped moving and just looked at him, somewhere between shocked and intrigued.
“You are running away! That’s all you do, all the time. You run away from me, because you’re scared out of your mind. Because you know, deep down, that this may just be it. We may just be it. And you’re terrified of admitting to yourself that maybe DerekandAddison wasn’t the be all and end all of love. That maybe, just maybe, we did fall in love, and we did work together, and this is it! You’re scared shitless of giving this a chance now that you can’t hide behind your marriage, or my being a manwhore, or any other crap. You know what, Addison? You’re scared of being happy, because you don’t think you deserve it, and you don’t think I do, either. And you keep running away from me, because you know, somewhere inside that freaking twisted heart of yours, that we would be so happy together that we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves. But you’re too scared to admit that we deserve that!”
She didn’t say a thing. She just stood there, still shocked but not as intrigued anymore. The sound of his breathing -slightly louder than normal after the long speech with almost no pause to take a breath - wasn’t the only sound in the Los Angeles afternoon, but it was the only one that mattered. The only one they were listening to. And he allowed her a moment to think of something to say, a moment that lasted as long as it took his breathing to go back to normal, before he spoke again.
“I’m here to take you home, and this is the last time I’m saying this. It’s the third time I go after you when you run away, and I’m done. I’m not waiting for you at a bar, and I’m not taking a job and sticking around waiting for you. This is it. This is the last time I’m asking you to come home with me. So… come home with me.” And, once again, his words were met with silence. Silence, and Addison looking down when his eyes searched for hers. And that was all he needed to know. Maybe her being all he thought about wasn’t enough. “Goodbye, Addison.”
And he walked away.
---
It was another of those days that meant nothing at all. Two weeks after he said goodbye to Addison - and this time he was well aware of the fact that he was counting - but nothing else to make it remarkable in the slightest. He was sitting at the bar at Joe’s, looking intently at his scotch as if he was going to find some sort of answer in there. Not that he had any questions. It was all perfectly clear. All perfectly ironic. It took giving up on Addison to finally make him turn that damn leaf. But it was what he did, wasn’t it? True to his self-destructive ways, he stopped finding comfort in screwing everything with a pulse the second he actually needed comfort and was free to screw anyone he wanted. It served him right for turning leaves. For going against a man’s right to be who he is.
But the reasons - and whether or not he deserved to be feeling worse than he had in years - was far from the point. The point was, he had a new leaf, and was feeling utterly unimpressed with it. Probably because of the fact that he was still - and, apparently, always would be - a manwhore in Seattle. And he knew he needed a change. He needed to be somewhere where he wasn’t a manwhore, somewhere where he hadn’t moved to run after anyone, and somewhere where Addison and the - this time definite - lack of her wasn’t all he thought about. But that night was - judging by the voice that stopped his train of thought - not the night when he was going to stop thinking about Addison Montgomery.
“I was scared.”
He didn’t turn around. Just so he wouldn’t have another image of her to add to the ones that already haunted him. But he did speak, because it seemed like the thing to do. “You were?” It sounded exactly the way he planned it to. Detached, even though he was feeling far from it. Like some sort of punishment for all the times she didn’t bother to look at him, and she sounded as detached as she felt. And also his way of letting both of them know he meant it when he said he was done. No more forgive and forget. No more putting her first and letting her hurt him just so she would be all right.
“I was. I am. I… you were right.” He answered with a nod, finishing his drink with his back still to her. It seemed like the safest approach. Not seeing her gave him some sort of control over the situation. He could pretend it was just some twisted joke his half-drunk brain was pulling on him. “I am scared. It scares me to think that this thing between us may just be about the obstacles, and how wrong it is. That this will always be a game. And the problem is…” But Mark had heard enough, and he stood up after paying for his drinks. “You know what the problem is, Addison? The problem is that you still haven’t realized that it was never a game.”
And he walked past her towards the door, making a great effort to look straight ahead and not let his eyes meet hers. It was a matter of pride. Something that, apparently, came with his new leaf, because he’d never had it before when she’d been involved. Three times, he’d let her walk all over him. The first time, he told her he loved her, and she let him wait at that same bar for hours, knowing she’d rather stay in a loveless marriage than give him a chance. The second time, he told her how he felt and she slept with an intern after promising him a chance at a real relationship. The third time, he put himself out there and she looked down and let him go. He was determined not to let it happen a fourth time.
But he heard the sound of her heels against the sidewalk before he could hail a cab, followed by her voice behind him, once again. “Don’t you dare get in that cab!” And he stopped on his tracks, half because the no-nonsense tone of her voice was surprising enough to make him turn around, and half because he wouldn’t put it past her to stop him by throwing one of her shoes at his head. “What the hell do you want, Addison?” And she put one of her hands on her hip, looking at him as if the question was both ridiculous and infuriating. “I want you to listen to me! You got to make your little speech, now I get to make mine.” So he closed the door to the cab and stepped away from it, because he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a short conversation, but also because he had to admit she had a point. He crossed his arms in front of him, and he almost thought she was going to do the same when she moved her hand away from her hip, but he soon realized she just needed both hands for the wild hand-gesturing that accompanied her speech.
“The problem is that I can’t run away from you! And I tried - believe me, I tried - but it just won’t work. Because every time I manage to stop thinking about you you come after me, and it all comes back. And now you finally decide not to come after me anymore, and you’re still all I think about. So I give up running and trying not to think about you, because it’s a waste of time. I give up! I’m in love with you, for some unthinkable reason, and against every single logical thought in my brain. And I’m still terrified that this will all be the biggest mistake of my life, and that we’ll both end up hurting, and that you won’t play catch or barbeque, but I want to give us a chance, because I think - and I can’t believe I’m saying this - I think that we’ll be so happy that we won’t know what to do with ourselves. And I think you may just be it, for me. And that’s all. I want to go home with you, whatever that means right now.”
He stayed in silence after she spoke, looking at her and watching her face go from determined to hopeful and then downright horrified, as if she’d just realized what she’d said. And he wanted to say something - anything, really - but he was speechless, for once in his life. But, in his own defense, he had to say it wasn’t easy to form coherent thoughts after she dropped that bomb on him. After she’d said out loud that she loved him, for the first time. After she’d taken a step towards him instead of the other way around, also for the first time. He was only human, after all. “This is… you know. Where you say something.” And Mark put all his energy on forming even a single word - a single affirmative word - but his brain wasn’t cooperating, and he didn’t snap out of it until she started walking away after an almost-whispered goodbye.
“How do you feel about Chicago?”
And that wasn’t really the first thing he wanted to tell her after her speech, but it was all he could manage, and she - like always - also heard the things he didn’t say, and turned around with a half-smile on her face. “Too windy.” So he tried again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking towards some undetermined place. Just walking with her. Another first. “Hartford? And, by the way, I’m offended that you doubt my barbeque skills. Or my baseball ones.” She shook her head, her smile getting wider by the second. “I apologize for doubting your skills. And not Hartford. Too… Connecticut.” And he chuckled at her words, because the woman that was the epitome of “too Connecticut” discarding Hartford for the same reason was nothing short of hilarious. “All right, Boston. It’s my last offer.”
She stopped when they got to the end of the sidewalk, and adopted a thoughtful expression that - in Mark’s experience - could only mean that either she was getting ready for a snarky comment, or she was actually considering his idea. Either way, he tilted her head up and kissed her, to avoid the snark or to thank her for considering his offer, it didn’t really matter at that point. Not when there was another first, right there. Their first kiss that was only about the two of them. Just them, and that feeling they both had of this being it, of them being it for each other. And it left them both breathless and unable to speak for a moment, until she swallowed - hard, and making him smirk - and found her voice. “Boston sounds perfect.”
And, when she kissed him, Mark Sloan - manwhore with a new leaf and a sudden urge to barbeque, play catch and grant every other ridiculous and seemingly nonsensical wish she might think of - while still firmly opposed to the ideas of fate, romance and all of that True Love crap, had to admit that maybe, sometimes, there’s a reason why someone is all you think about.