A/N: The Addek Revolution continues! ... with another shameless new story BUT with good reason. See, today's not Fluffy Friday but it is Wednesday, which I hereby dub Wow (I Love My Readers) Wednesday, because this story was prompted by and written for simbagirl. She asked for a story that took off from the infamous Season 2 deleted Addek scenes (I don't need to ask Addek lovers if they've seen them, it's like asking if you've seen the sun). You'll recognize the beginning; it starts with the well-known toothbrush scene, and takes off from there.

Simbagirl requested a two-shot. And I was pretty obedient ... in the sense that this is a three-shot, but I'm posting all three parts now. Big meows to simbagirl for an awesome prompt.

I hope you'll read and enjoy and let me know what you think!

Remember when we went to the one place?

..

PART I

A gentle rain patters the trailer, pale morning light slicing through the windows.

"Remember when we went to the one place?" Addison's voice is soft with reminiscence, trickling into the tiny bathroom. He turns to see she's bracing the open door with one hand stretched out, toothbrush hanging loosely in her other hand.

"With the boat?" Derek asks, stepping out of the bathroom and poising the toothpaste over her brush. She holds it still while he squeezes out a strip of paste. Like she always has.

She shakes her head. "No, no, not the boat." She lifts the brush toward her lips, then seems to think better of it. "The boat was, um, was that other place."

"With the bed," he recalls.

He looks up at her, feeling the beginning of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Her blue-silk-clad arm is right next to his head; she's inches away, the band holding back her hair reminding him of what she used to look like a long time.

Before any of this.

Before Seattle.

Before Meredith.

Before Mark.

She smiles fully. "Yeah, the big bed. And those sheets. And room service." Her expression is half coaxing, half longing. "Remember the fireplace? No one ate my shoes there."

Her laugh sounds like bells when it echoes in the small space. They change places as if they've planned it, and brush their teeth in tandem.

His words come out abruptly, uncensored, surprising himself.

"We should go back there."

She emerges from the bathroom, the same emotion written on her face.

"Yeah?"

Hope flickers in her eyes.

"Yeah." He pauses. "Yeah," he says again, more finally this time.

Eyes sparkling, she leans in for a kiss.

Then they switch places again, their choreographed morning routine even if they're used to doing it someplace much bigger.

He laughs, half nervous and half pleased, and she laughs too – hers is tinged with something else. Is it relief?

She looks over her shoulder at him, practically dancing away, her laughter playful.

He rinses his mouth, feeling a certain lightness he wasn't expecting.

"Derek?"

He wipes his face with the hanging towel and emerges to swap places with her again. She looks pensive.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go back there."

"Okay." He waits for her to rinse; she does, then pats her face dry the way she always does, and then emerges from the bathroom.

Pace, pace, turn.

He recognizes her footfalls; she's planning something.

"No, I mean let's go back there ... now," she clarifies.

"Now?"

"Yeah, now."

"Go back there now," he repeats doubtfully.

"Yeah. Now."

"Addison." His brows draw together. "The place with the bed is in Rhode Island."

"I know that."

"And we're in Seattle."

"I know that too. It's silly. It's just ..." She pauses. "Never mind."

A mask has descended; her face no longer looks open. Sorry, closed for business.

"It's not silly."

"Forget it." She moves past him into the bathroom to straighten her already perfect hair; on her way back out he touches a silk-covered arm to get her attention.

"We can ... plan a vacation," he says tentatively, "if that's what you -"

"Derek, I said forget it. It's fine."

Feeling a little uncertain, he offers another kiss; she accepts even if it isn't what she wanted.

..

"Luxury Seattle getaways?"

He reads the words over her shoulder, studying the accompanying photograph. It's a breathtaking evening shot of a craftsman style building cut into the side of a mountain, green spruce and blue river competing for first beauty prize.

She jumps a little, apparently not having heard him approach.

"Derek … you startled me."

He squints at the picture. A spa and a lodge. The best of both worlds, the text declares boldly.

"Are you planning a trip, Addison?"

"No. Well, yeah, I just ... I need to get out of the trailer," she admits, closing the book. It's her Best of Seattle guide, of course; she moves it from hand to hand now, almost nervously.

"You wanted to get into the trailer," he reminds her.

She pushed it and pushed it. How can we fix things if we're not living together?

I'm not moving out of the trailer.

Then I'll move into it!

It was a dare at first, a retort, a challenge.

And then it was their new reality.

"I know I did," she admits. "I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you. But ... did I want half my clothes on the porch? Did I want to have to choreograph our every movement to try to fit into the space? Did I want to sleep on glorified air mattress?"

"Tell me how you really feel, Addie."

He's joking, but her eyes look hurt. "Yeah." She looks down at the closed guidebook in her hands. "I've tried that."

"Hey." He waits for her to look up at him. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Be passive aggressive, shut me down when I'm trying to ..."

"When you're trying to what? When you're trying to try? When you're the one trying it counts, but when I'm –"

"Addison." He cuts her off with a frown, mindful that they're in a public hallway. "Let's just … talk about this later."

"You're the one who wanted to talk about it now!"

Preston Burke glances over at her raised voice – of course he would be listening, he's always available to think the worst of Derek.

Addison is glaring at him, her lips parting to start up again. He takes her arm before she can speak and leads her around the corner for some semblance of privacy. "Yes, I brought it up but … that was before I realized you were going to flip out."

"I'm not flipping out, Derek, I'm angry that you call me passive-aggressive for ... what ... walking into an elevator with you and your mistress?"

"Addison." He moves closer, hoping it will make her lower her voice. Any sense of closeness from this morning, her playful laugh, the way she looked at him over her shoulder, almost ... saucily ... is gone and all he wants to do is make her stop talking. "Enough. We're not talking about this here."

"I'm not a … string-toy you can make talk or not talk whenever you want, Derek! And if I don't do what you say then I'm being passive-aggressive. Or is that I'm the passive aggressive one because you decided to wait until Christmas to tell me you fell in love with Meredith?"

The ensuing silence is louder than her words ... which were loud to begin with.

Loud enough that Derek looks up unwillingly to see George O'Malley, Alex Karev, and the blonde from the lingerie catalogue - Stevens? - standing in a row, their mouths open with identical expressions of surprise.

Addison follows his gaze, and he sees recognition, and then humiliation, register in her eyes.

"Addison -"

"I have to get out of here," she whispers, thrusting something small and metal into his hand, and before he can react she's clacking down the hall in her loud heels, leaving a gust of perfume in her wake.

He looks down at his clenched fist and unfurls his fingers: there, in the center of his palm, is Addison's key to the trailer.

..

She's gone before he can follow her.

That's what he tells himself as he moves through his day; he knows from glancing at the board that her schedule is as packed as his, and when he doesn't catch sight of her long red hair winking around the corner he assumes it's because she's rushing between consults.

The trailer key was Addison being Addison. It doesn't mean anything.

But then he checks the board again, and her name is gone.

"She left," Nurse Lopez says simply. "We rescheduled her non-emergent procedures."

"Dr. Shepherd left?"

"Montgomery-Shepherd, yes."

"Left … where?"

"I don't know, Dr. Shepherd, I'm sorry."

"How can you not – " He realizes he's raised his voice. "Thank you," he says quickly. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry too."

..

Where is she?

He considers this while he lectures a high school football player on the dangers of repeated concussions.

"You don't look like you ever played football," the kid scowls. He's only sixteen and already a head taller than Derek, at least seventy-five pounds heavier.

"I didn't," Derek admits. "But my best friend did."

And brain damage would explain a lot.

Finished, satisfied when the young player agrees to take a month off, Derek stands in front of the Addison-less board one more time. Her name is just … gone, wiped clean.

He dials her number; it goes straight to voicemail. He checks her locker – not really sure why – he's never asked her for her combination, but of course it will be his birthday with the month and date switched, like always.

The lock clicks open, and her street clothes are gone. She's left the hospital.

He tries her phone again.

Nothing.

She's not at the trailer; his face burns at that realization, since the key is heavy in his pocket.

She's left the hospital, but … to go where?

With a start he realizes he has no idea who he would ask about where she is.

In New York it would be easy. He'd start with Mark – he grimaces at that, but it's true – and move on to Carla, from her cohort, who left surgery and now takes all of Addison's OB consults; they still have coffee twice a week without fail when the other doctor holds hours at the hospital. Then the two residents who shadow her, Keisha and – he can't remember the other one's name, just that she follows Addison around a little too closely sometimes, seeming to keep the same schedule she does, timing her procedures around her supervisor's. And then there's Charlene, her favorite Peds nurse. Charlene always knew where Addison was; they worked together seamlessly, closer than colleagues. Friends. Addison was the one who pushed Charlene to apply to NP school, wrote her recommendations.

It wasn't just the hospital, he'd call Savvy, and then his sister Nancy, Addison's partner in crime.

The point is, in New York … he could ask any number of people where Addison is.

Here in Seattle?

He glances to the left and to the right, like he's missing something.

Could it be that he's the only person here keeping track of her whereabouts?

A distressing image flickers into his mind. It's four years ago – almost five now, and they're tromping through a hospital lobby where bulletin boards are still lined with fading faces of the missing.

Addison's fingers are clenched in his; he wraps an arm around her to pull her close. The signs always seemed to upset her. They upset everyone, but … it's the people who didn't have anyone, anyone to notice they were missing, she whispered, her voice thick, if they disappeared, who would put up signs?

He just held her close, that morning, because those months were a jumble of fear and pain and flyers curling up at the edges because the missing weren't found. Not the way the signs intended, anyway.

He shakes the image clear from his head. Addison feared loneliness, he knows this. She needed people, attention, notice.

Then why did she leave everything behind in New York, her friends, her colleagues, her home … ?

He knows the answer.

He just doesn't want to think it.

For me. She did it for me.

..

"Dr. Grey..."

"Derek?" She turns away from the nurses' desk, looking confused when she sees his expression ... and a little anxious. "Are you all right?"

"Meredith." He turns to her, scanning her face, reading her familiar features. "Would you notice, if I went missing?"

She blinks, then lowers her voice. "Derek … are you … suicidal?"

"What? No, of course not. I'm just asking."

"Okay. Well, yeah, I guess I would. So would a bunch of other people, though," she says quickly. "The Chief. Burke, because you two are rivals-"

"No, we're not."

"Yes, you are. So Burke would notice. And, you know, your wife."

"What about her?"

"She would notice if you were missing."

"Right." Derek looks down at his hands. "Meredith…"

She holds up her own small hand. "Please don't."

"What do you – oh." He should have known. "You heard. Which one told?"

"All of them. Separately, and then together."

Interns. They travel – and gossip – in packs.

"I'm sorry."

"For me, or for Addison?"

He blinks at the unexpected question. "I don't know."

"Derek …"

He lowers his voice. "What Addison said … what I said to her … I was trying to, you know, come clean. I didn't intend for you to find out."

"Well, I did find out."

"And … are you okay?"

She rolls her eyes. "Spare me the concern. I'm not the one who walked out of the hospital."

He stares.

"Yes, I noticed," she confirms. "I was supposed to be on her service today."

No wonder she left.

"Meredith," he says apologetically. "Look, I … I haven't been fair to you."

"No, you haven't."

"Or to Addison," he admits. "And now she's … left. And she isn't picking up her phone."

And she doesn't have a key to the only place here she could remotely call home … even though I've mostly done everything I can to keep her from feeling like it's her home.

Meredith's eyes widen. "Left ... you mean like back to New York?"

"No. I don't think so. Her locker is still … and she wouldn't leave the hospital without warning; she's a department head."

"You sound different when you talk about her as a doctor," Meredith says. She's looking at him with a curious expression and he sees her a few months ago, on the staircase, questioning him about Addison.

What does that mean?

Maybe it means she's a good doctor.

"You were together for all of it," Meredith muses.

"Hm?"

"Medical school," she says. "Internship … residency … fellowships … and now. You did it all together."

"Right," he says briefly, not sure what she's getting at.

"No, it's just ... nice," she says, her expression pensive. "That you … knew each other when you weren't even doctors and now you … now you're both incredible and, you know, you get to see that."

He blinks. "Well, that doesn't mean that I - it doesn't mean that she ..." His voice trails off.

Unwilling images are piercing his mind. Addison in her white coat ceremony, Addison crying in the basement of the library before finals, Addison falling asleep at the bar after they passed their first year, Addison throwing her hat in the air when they graduated, Addison screaming with joy when they matched together, Addison holding the first baby she saved and the first one she lost, Addison accepting an award, Addison beaming at the publication of an article, Addison next to him in scrubs, only her unmistakable eyes visible over her surgical mask. We're good together.

"I'm sorry, Meredith, what were you saying?"

"Nothing," Meredith says. "It's okay." She pauses. "I hope you find Addison," she adds before she walks away.

I hope you find Addison.

But he didn't lose her.

Did he?

How can he lose someone who's been chasing him since she arrived in Seattle, who hasn't given him a moment alone, who's in his trailer, in his bed, in his hospital, in his face?

All this time, he pushed her away, but she was here.

I just need time, that's what he told her. Just wait for it to pass.

Is their time finally up?

CONTINUED IN PART II.