Falling or Flying
The precision of surgery, the uncorrectable truth of life or death suits Addison like warm winter coat. In surgery a line is a definite, a cut a necessary sacrifice and courage a consequence. Every movement she had been trained to execute with the upmost accuracy and foresight.
Addison inhaled a breath of tar and let her lungs fill with a mixture of oxygen, carbon and nicotine. Her red streaks falling into her vision, she closed her eyes and let the cool spring breeze blow over her face as she let go of the breath she had been holding in.
She lifted her hand to bring the cigarette to her lips once more as she heard a door open and shut a mere couple of feet away. She squared her shoulders, let her head fall back in resignation and sighed as a pair of footsteps came closer.
--
Seattle, a few minutes earlier
“Mark,” Addison hissed as she tried to free herself from his tight grip on her upper arm. But he would neither let go nor step back from his position too close to her face. His eyes were shinning with fury and disappointment.
“I can’t believe you, Addison!” His voice was so quiet it betrayed the force and depths of the situation they found themselves in. Mark’s second hand had come up to hold onto Addison’s head, bringing her chin up so she had to look into his eyes with her own.
“What do you want me to do? What do you think I am not doing or not trying to do?”
Addison spoke those words vehemently and with anger bubbling up to the surface. Anger at Mark for doubting her motives and her strength. Anger at the situation in general which was unbelievably cruel and endlessly hopeless. Anger at herself for the unwavering helplessness and vanishing confidence she was unable to fight off.
“I want you not to give up! I want you to save my baby! You owe me!” His head came so close to hers that to an innocent bystander it might have seemed like they were privy to an intimate moment between two lovers. They could not have been further from the truth. When in reality it was the downfall of a relationship, the passing of guilt and hurt as a long lost matter forced itself back between two friends.
“You owe me, Addison!” He spat in her face, shaking her arm violently before someone grabbed him from behind and threw him at the nearest wall to get him off of Addison. As soon as Mark had been forced out of her personal space, Addison averted her eyes staring intensely at her feet and fumbling with the hem of her scrub top.
“You owe me, you owe me, you owe me…!” Mark kept on repeating those three words like a mantra, though as Alex’s hands were no longer holding him against the wall, he was slowly sliding to the floor along the tiled hospital wall. Tears shot into his eyes and he grabbed his head tightly between his hands as the pace of his breathing quickened.
“I’m sorry,” Addison whispered as she turned on her heels and walked away.
--
“It’s been a long time since I last saw you smoke.”
Addison had not needed to turn around to see who was nearing her refuge on the roof of the hospital she had once worked at. After all the years they had spent together, Addison still knew whenever Derek was close. She felt his presence, smelled his unique scent and listened to the sound of his voice.
“It’s been a long time since I last needed it so bad.”
Addison did not look at him; she stared straight ahead into the gray Seattle sky. When she did not say another word for a few moments, Derek decided to take a seat next to her on the concrete. He took the cigarette from her fingers, brought it to his lips and inhaled the coal-colored smoke. Derek started coughing almost immediately. Addison quickly turned her head and patted his back to help him regain his breath. A smile formed on her lips as soon as the first worry had vanished.
“You were always a terrible smoker,” Addison said playfully with an amused expression on her face.
“I always found different ways to deal with the problems troubling me.”
Derek replied as he handed the cigarette back to Addison who took it gladly, bringing it to her lips to take a tarry breath of toxin.
“Yeah,” Addison paused. Her voice was low and with hint of accusation in it, she continued, “you run and sleep with interns.”
Derek sighed and his set his jaw in response. Before he could speak, though, Addison’s voice filled the air once again.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you.”
A pigeon landed on the edge of the roof. It looked at them before carefully lumbering to where a couple of bread crumbs were strewn over the concrete. Addison and Derek both watched the scenario intently. A sudden wind gust blew a piece of newspaper in the direction of the hunting pigeon. As thoughts of panic overtook the animal, it quickly spread its wings and flew away.
“What’s wrong, Addie?” Derek asked his voice soft and full of concern.
“Nothing…” Addison breathed as she put out the smoke against the concrete.
“Don’t!” Derek said in an annoyed tone of voice.
“Don’t what, Derek? I am so tired of people wanting me to do things that they think I am not doing. So what do you think I am not doing?”
Addison said up straight as she crossed her arms in front of her chest in order to protect herself from the cool breath and Derek’s accusation.
“Don’t you hold back.” Derek turned his head. “Don’t you hold back from me.”
When Addison did not say anything in reply Derek touched her shoulder in hopes of getting her to turn her head.
“You can talk to me, you know.”
Then Addison did turn around to look him in the eye. She held her arms still firmly crossed in front of her chest, her hair blew softly in the wind. As she spoke she let her eyes wonder over his face. A face she had memorized years ago.
“Can I now? Are you sure that you want to hear the answer to every question in your head? I’m not.” Addison paused to look at him. “I’m not sure that you do. I’m not even sure why you really came up here. Obviously you wanted to know why Mark and I fought and what he meant when he said I owed him. But I’m not sure you really want to know or that you even should.”
Derek was quiet, letting her get those issues of her chest.
“I think that some things we just can’t talk about. Not anymore. Some things as petty as it sounds I just don’t want to tell you.”
Addison could not tell him about the abortion she had had all those years ago in New York; When she had chosen the man over the baby growing inside of her. She could not tell him about Bizzy and the lie her whole life had been built on. Certainly she could not tell him about the relationship she had been in with his other best friend and her lone decision to have the baby with or without the man.
--
Los Angeles, a day earlier
“I think that maybe when people say they need more time it means that they are not committed.” Addison paused to look at Sam.
Sam sighed and turned his head to look at the sea, trying his best to will the conversation to end so he could postpone the inevitable.
“And that doesn’t really work for me anymore, Sam.”
And it did not. It simply could not any longer. Addison had lived love and life after love. She had had the man and lost the man. She had picked up herself and started over. She had moved places and she had grown as a person. She had lost people she loved and sacrificed relationships that had lasted for decades. Changes in life were painful but necessary and when Addison had decided that being a mother was a dream she was not willing to give up she had known that change had to come. Either way, with or without the man.
“I made up my mind. I want a child. So I need to know. Are you in or are you out?”
All of last year’s events came tumbling on Sam’s shoulders as he realized that maybe he had been pushing in the direction Addison was going for in the first place. And it scared the hell out of him because he was not ready to let go but he certainly was not ready to commit in the way Addison demanded of him. Maybe he could be in 3 months, 6 months or a year from now. Maybe he never would be that man for her. As much as he loved her or because of his love for her he could no longer hold onto her, keep her under the impression that he was willingly working towards a compromise.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, his eyes searching hers. He bent over to lay a hand on her knee as her eyes began to water from the truth he had been unable to hold in any longer for the sake of them both.
Addison nodded silently in response, unable to speak at first as tears started running down her pale cheeks.
“No,” Addison breathed, “I am sorry.”
Sam started to lean forward so he could embrace her to try and sooth the pain he was inflicting on her when her cell phone started vibrating on the wooden table next to them.
--
“Okay.” Derek nodded. Then a small smile formed on his lips as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes that was lying in the space between them.
“Maybe you could teach me how to smoke then, so I don’t have to run when things get tough the next time?”
He nudged her shoulder with his own causing her to lose her balance and fall sideways to the ground. She started laughing hysterically as soon as she realized what had happened, sat up quickly took the pack of smokes from his hand, handed him a piece and lit one for each of them.
“Okay. Deal,” Addison smirked, “if you promise to try not to cough up your lung this time. I would rather not explain to Richard why his head of neurosurgery will not operate on brains anymore. Not today.”
Derek smiled at Addison who brought the smoke to her lips, took a deep breath and started feeling like at least some of the weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.
The unpredictability of life had been the greatest flaw in Addison Adrienne Forbes Montgomery’s plan. In life lines bend and blur. A well executed and accurate plan does not always promise the outcome that had been foreseen. Outside of the operating room only a cut remained a necessary sacrifice - and even that only sometimes. Also courage was the foundation of happiness.
Addison inhaled a breath of tar and let her lungs fill with a mixture of oxygen, carbon and nicotine. Her red streaks falling into her vision, she closed her eyes and let the cool spring breeze blow over her face as she let go of the breath she had been holding in.
She lifted her hand to bring the cigarette to her lips once more as she heard a door open and shut a mere couple of feet away. She squared her shoulders, let her head fall back in resignation and sighed as a pair of footsteps came closer.
--
Seattle, a few minutes earlier
“Mark,” Addison hissed as she tried to free herself from his tight grip on her upper arm. But he would neither let go nor step back from his position too close to her face. His eyes were shinning with fury and disappointment.
“I can’t believe you, Addison!” His voice was so quiet it betrayed the force and depths of the situation they found themselves in. Mark’s second hand had come up to hold onto Addison’s head, bringing her chin up so she had to look into his eyes with her own.
“What do you want me to do? What do you think I am not doing or not trying to do?”
Addison spoke those words vehemently and with anger bubbling up to the surface. Anger at Mark for doubting her motives and her strength. Anger at the situation in general which was unbelievably cruel and endlessly hopeless. Anger at herself for the unwavering helplessness and vanishing confidence she was unable to fight off.
“I want you not to give up! I want you to save my baby! You owe me!” His head came so close to hers that to an innocent bystander it might have seemed like they were privy to an intimate moment between two lovers. They could not have been further from the truth. When in reality it was the downfall of a relationship, the passing of guilt and hurt as a long lost matter forced itself back between two friends.
“You owe me, Addison!” He spat in her face, shaking her arm violently before someone grabbed him from behind and threw him at the nearest wall to get him off of Addison. As soon as Mark had been forced out of her personal space, Addison averted her eyes staring intensely at her feet and fumbling with the hem of her scrub top.
“You owe me, you owe me, you owe me…!” Mark kept on repeating those three words like a mantra, though as Alex’s hands were no longer holding him against the wall, he was slowly sliding to the floor along the tiled hospital wall. Tears shot into his eyes and he grabbed his head tightly between his hands as the pace of his breathing quickened.
“I’m sorry,” Addison whispered as she turned on her heels and walked away.
--
“It’s been a long time since I last saw you smoke.”
Addison had not needed to turn around to see who was nearing her refuge on the roof of the hospital she had once worked at. After all the years they had spent together, Addison still knew whenever Derek was close. She felt his presence, smelled his unique scent and listened to the sound of his voice.
“It’s been a long time since I last needed it so bad.”
Addison did not look at him; she stared straight ahead into the gray Seattle sky. When she did not say another word for a few moments, Derek decided to take a seat next to her on the concrete. He took the cigarette from her fingers, brought it to his lips and inhaled the coal-colored smoke. Derek started coughing almost immediately. Addison quickly turned her head and patted his back to help him regain his breath. A smile formed on her lips as soon as the first worry had vanished.
“You were always a terrible smoker,” Addison said playfully with an amused expression on her face.
“I always found different ways to deal with the problems troubling me.”
Derek replied as he handed the cigarette back to Addison who took it gladly, bringing it to her lips to take a tarry breath of toxin.
“Yeah,” Addison paused. Her voice was low and with hint of accusation in it, she continued, “you run and sleep with interns.”
Derek sighed and his set his jaw in response. Before he could speak, though, Addison’s voice filled the air once again.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you.”
A pigeon landed on the edge of the roof. It looked at them before carefully lumbering to where a couple of bread crumbs were strewn over the concrete. Addison and Derek both watched the scenario intently. A sudden wind gust blew a piece of newspaper in the direction of the hunting pigeon. As thoughts of panic overtook the animal, it quickly spread its wings and flew away.
“What’s wrong, Addie?” Derek asked his voice soft and full of concern.
“Nothing…” Addison breathed as she put out the smoke against the concrete.
“Don’t!” Derek said in an annoyed tone of voice.
“Don’t what, Derek? I am so tired of people wanting me to do things that they think I am not doing. So what do you think I am not doing?”
Addison said up straight as she crossed her arms in front of her chest in order to protect herself from the cool breath and Derek’s accusation.
“Don’t you hold back.” Derek turned his head. “Don’t you hold back from me.”
When Addison did not say anything in reply Derek touched her shoulder in hopes of getting her to turn her head.
“You can talk to me, you know.”
Then Addison did turn around to look him in the eye. She held her arms still firmly crossed in front of her chest, her hair blew softly in the wind. As she spoke she let her eyes wonder over his face. A face she had memorized years ago.
“Can I now? Are you sure that you want to hear the answer to every question in your head? I’m not.” Addison paused to look at him. “I’m not sure that you do. I’m not even sure why you really came up here. Obviously you wanted to know why Mark and I fought and what he meant when he said I owed him. But I’m not sure you really want to know or that you even should.”
Derek was quiet, letting her get those issues of her chest.
“I think that some things we just can’t talk about. Not anymore. Some things as petty as it sounds I just don’t want to tell you.”
Addison could not tell him about the abortion she had had all those years ago in New York; When she had chosen the man over the baby growing inside of her. She could not tell him about Bizzy and the lie her whole life had been built on. Certainly she could not tell him about the relationship she had been in with his other best friend and her lone decision to have the baby with or without the man.
--
Los Angeles, a day earlier
“I think that maybe when people say they need more time it means that they are not committed.” Addison paused to look at Sam.
Sam sighed and turned his head to look at the sea, trying his best to will the conversation to end so he could postpone the inevitable.
“And that doesn’t really work for me anymore, Sam.”
And it did not. It simply could not any longer. Addison had lived love and life after love. She had had the man and lost the man. She had picked up herself and started over. She had moved places and she had grown as a person. She had lost people she loved and sacrificed relationships that had lasted for decades. Changes in life were painful but necessary and when Addison had decided that being a mother was a dream she was not willing to give up she had known that change had to come. Either way, with or without the man.
“I made up my mind. I want a child. So I need to know. Are you in or are you out?”
All of last year’s events came tumbling on Sam’s shoulders as he realized that maybe he had been pushing in the direction Addison was going for in the first place. And it scared the hell out of him because he was not ready to let go but he certainly was not ready to commit in the way Addison demanded of him. Maybe he could be in 3 months, 6 months or a year from now. Maybe he never would be that man for her. As much as he loved her or because of his love for her he could no longer hold onto her, keep her under the impression that he was willingly working towards a compromise.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, his eyes searching hers. He bent over to lay a hand on her knee as her eyes began to water from the truth he had been unable to hold in any longer for the sake of them both.
Addison nodded silently in response, unable to speak at first as tears started running down her pale cheeks.
“No,” Addison breathed, “I am sorry.”
Sam started to lean forward so he could embrace her to try and sooth the pain he was inflicting on her when her cell phone started vibrating on the wooden table next to them.
--
“Okay.” Derek nodded. Then a small smile formed on his lips as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes that was lying in the space between them.
“Maybe you could teach me how to smoke then, so I don’t have to run when things get tough the next time?”
He nudged her shoulder with his own causing her to lose her balance and fall sideways to the ground. She started laughing hysterically as soon as she realized what had happened, sat up quickly took the pack of smokes from his hand, handed him a piece and lit one for each of them.
“Okay. Deal,” Addison smirked, “if you promise to try not to cough up your lung this time. I would rather not explain to Richard why his head of neurosurgery will not operate on brains anymore. Not today.”
Derek smiled at Addison who brought the smoke to her lips, took a deep breath and started feeling like at least some of the weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.
The unpredictability of life had been the greatest flaw in Addison Adrienne Forbes Montgomery’s plan. In life lines bend and blur. A well executed and accurate plan does not always promise the outcome that had been foreseen. Outside of the operating room only a cut remained a necessary sacrifice - and even that only sometimes. Also courage was the foundation of happiness.