A/N: So the end. It's been a short but fun ride with this one. I hope you all liked the random direction I took and I look forward to what everyone has to say. Thanks for the continued support and thanks to the wonderful betaness of escapismrocks. Have at it-

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All this that is ceases to be

-----

The light brushes through the light caramel colored drapes and floods the room with its annoying presence. She can feel Derek's arm still grasping at her bare hip unremittingly and hears his light breathing behind her. She counts the seconds down waiting. His fingers burn holes into her skin with their pressure and she wants to peel away every inch that he has touched under the pretense of a love once so divine she thought it was a dream. It's still there somewhere. She squints her eyes against the sun and tries to remove herself from the bed without awakening the other occupant. Slowly by sturdily she tiptoes out of his reach and into the bathroom.

She turns on the silver handle letting the water rush through the strong sink basin. It's too early to be thinking anything, to early to be moving and yet here she is. Here she is questioning the entirety of her own marriage. Surely there must be a problem but every time she allows this fine film of doubt to cover her skin she always comes up with nothing. He's Derek and that's all she's got. He's mildly attentive, great at his job, a wonderful provider and just short of being everything she once wanted for her life.

Reaching for the firm bristles of her aqua colored toothbrush she takes a long look in the mirror. Maybe it's not him. Maybe she's the problem. She doesn't notice how vigorously she's brushing until she spits and sees the white sink stained with red. She washes out the blood and watches it drift down the drain. Popping her head out of the jarred door she takes a long look at her sleeping husband. His hair matted, ruffled and puffy. His arm looped over the spot where her body should be. His legs tangled in the comforter. His head half on the pillow, half resting on the mattress and she just doesn't get it.

Something is wrong; missing. Maybe it's her. She makes a mental note to try a little harder and lightly shuts the door before jumping into the shower.

-----

"Evening Dr. Shepherd." Addison calls out setting down the steaming cup of coffee in front of him.

"Hey." He smiles wearily, clicking the end of blue pen with his thumb. "Long day." He mutters scratching something down on the chart and throwing it in with the rest.

"I saw." She responds holding out his coat that she took the liberty of stealing from his locker a few minutes earlier.

"You saw?" He turns back around sticking an arm through the wool.

"I saw you're last surgery, sorry it didn't go like you planned." She grins and shrugs. He lost two patients that day and though it's not odd for him to lose anyone it was the first occurrence in their two week stint in Seattle. Can't save them all, but she doesn't need to tell him that.

"I didn't see you." He takes a long draw of the near mud concoction in the paper cup, definitely her recipe.

Biting back all sarcastic remarks for the sake of being considerate she replies, "Well the gallery was pretty full. I don't blame you."

He should know that she always watches when she can but he honestly didn't see her, then again he doesn't remember looking up at any point during the intense four hour procedure either. "Let's get the hell out of here and get some dinner."

"Sounds good." She slips her arm through his and they head out the door providing silent support for one another, he just doesn't know that she lost two moms and a premature baby boy. He won't ask about her day either.

The rain skips along with her heels and splashes onto the back of her nylon clad calves. He politely opens her door and takes her bag tossing it into the trunk on his way around the car. "So where to?" He asks finally seated inside.

"I don't know. What are you in the mood for?"

"I was thinking-"

"No, I don't feel like anything spicy." She counters knowing full well he is going to suggest the Indian place downtown that they frequent.

"Ok." He wrinkles his nose, "Hey Addie?"

"Hmm…" She purses her mouth pensively trying to anticipate his next guess.

"Thank you for watching me in there today." His eyes twinkle with sincerity and for half a second her heart skips a beat. He comes in little flashes these days. The sparkling residue of days long gone.

Catching herself she answers, "I always do when I can."

"I know." He mutters unable to voice how much it really means to him. Surely she understands. "So…you want to stay in or go out?"

"I kind of want to stay in." She asserts dropping her hand over his and lightly tracing the tired skin as he negotiates the stick into reverse.

"Good call. Movies, pizza, beer?"

"Sounds like my kind of night." She giggles.

"Well you are classy like that." He replies earning himself a quick jab to the side before she folds her hands in her lap and stares out the window silently. He wants to ask if anything is going on, how she feels about the whole move but she stopped bitching as soon as they moved out of the hotel and into their temporary apartment so it's better to not bring it up. He wants to joke with her about the rain but knows it's a sore spot so he turns up the radio and drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they head home.

Nearly two hours later, snuggled under a plaid blanket, and watching Casablanca for the hundredth time thanks to Addison, he strokes her hip. "You asleep?"

"No." She mumbles into his chest.

"Uh-huh. So how many fingers am I holding up then?"

"I'm not a patient Derek." She counters opening her eyes and watching the flickering film again. It was an uneventful night, just like any other in their new place. Minimal furniture and no personal touches leave it feeling like a tomb and not like a home. Add that to the nearly constant state of freezing air trickling in under all of the windows and she would almost rather be back at the hotel. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself that it will only be a few more weeks until their house is finished. She picked the style, he picked the property and it was a compromise of unsatisfying proportions that neither is talking about anymore. It's easier to spend the little time they have with each other not fighting.

"I know. Hey, I kind of wanted to talk to you." About what he doesn't know but the silence is starting to suffocate him again and he figures it's better than nothing.

Her ears perk up and her chest thumps harder against her ribcage while she tries not to get excited. "Yeah?"

"Well, I was thinking that we need to get some stuff for the house because we have…well almost nothing and anyway, I was hoping that maybe we could go together."

"You want to go furniture shopping with me?" She quirks her eyebrows and straightens up looking at him.

"Well not when you make it sound like you're going to torture me. I just thought it would be a fun thing for us to do…together." He draws out the last word hoping she'll take the bait.

"Together…yeah, that sounds nice…I guess. But you are still doing all the heavy lifting with Mark. Don't think you are getting out of that." She warns.

"I wouldn't dream of it…besides he has to earn his keep if he wants to keep staying in our spare room and bringing home all those stupid nurses."

"I think the one from this morning was actually a receptionist." She mocks remembering stumbling into the leggy blonde on her way to get coffee.

"Oh, he's hit an all time low." Derek smiles and reaches a hand out to brush her smooth thigh.

"Eh, she was cute. I don't think he cares much how smart they are as long as they leave before he wakes up and he doesn't have to call them again in any sort of timely manner."

"Not as cute as you." He deadpans and steals a kiss before she has any idea what is going on. She shakes her head trying to figure out what he is doing but before she can say anything he is pressing her body into the couch and lazily licking and nipping at her ear.

"Ohh…Derek."

"Hmm?" He responds letting the low guttural sounds reverberate off her neck.

She feels the goose bumps rise to their surface when he breaths hot air onto her flushed skin and she gives in for a minute before reminding him that if he wants to continue than he better move this show to the bedroom before Mark walks in with the flavor of the night. "Derek…we need…bedroom…now." She gasps when he slides a hand under the back of her shirt and wastes no time pulling it overhead.

"He won't be back for a while." He whispers and wiggles a hand into her pajama pants while she tries to squirm away. As soon as his fingers hit her most sensitive spot she stops and moans. Slowly he tugs away his own boxers, she snakes free of her pants and he enters her. Setting a cruel pace he thrusts deeply. He takes his time and lets his other hand drift to her clit proceeding to rub long languid circles while she lets her eyes fall closed and gives into every sensation that is burning through her.

He latches his lips onto her neck again feeling her begin to tighten around him and carefully bites the soft skin behind her ear before removing his other hand and moving up to her hard nipples. With one brush of his thumb she comes groaning incoherent words and wrapping her legs around his back tightly so that she can feel every inch. He finishes seconds later saying her name over and over and when they come to, side by side, the plaid blanket now covering naked bodies he whispers into her ear, "I knew you hadn't forgotten what to do with a real orgasm."

Her breath hitches in her throat and she feels the bile rising quickly to replace it. "I-I always-"

He kisses her cheek and pulls her against him a little tighter. "I know and I'm sorry." It's time to start fixing things in Seattle and he figures first up on that list should be his sex life…or rather her sex life.

And that's the only explanation she'll ever get because they are never talking about this again, it's far too embarrassing. She nods and blows out the puff of air that was stuck. Instead of feeling like the ton of bricks on her back has been removed by his acknowledgment and subsequent problem solving she feels inanely guilty for never saying anything.

He's her husband and she has no idea how to talk to him anymore.

-----

So they're replacing the void. That canyon, the one with the unused words and unanswered questions. The one that they don't dip into because the real truths hurt just too much to hear. Filled right up to the brim with delicious mind blowing sex, not that they're complaining…to each other anyway. Mark's complaining enough for everyone as it is.

"I'm just saying you don't hear my headboard up against the side of wall at four a.m., do you?"

"No." Addison blushes and hurries down the hall wearing just Derek's button up shirt from the night before and feeling every part of her legs ache as she makes an effort to get away quickly.

"Listen man this is worse than med school. You want me to stay somewhere else, say the word and I'm out. I don't need bad visions of you two doing whatever the hell it is that you're doing while I try to sleep. Alexis left last night because it got weird." He tips the last of the coffee into his stark white mug and looks to his frazzled best friend. "I'm glad that you and Addie are…you know. Way to get some but I just need to sleep. So let me know."

"It's not right." Derek mutters out. He drops his spoon in the sink and lets the rest of his cereal drain into the garbage disposal.

"I do not want to hear it." Mark warns holding up a hand.

"It's just all we do is have sex now-"

"I said I don't want to hear it!" He shouts turning away and trying not to think about his best friend's wife naked…doing things. He should not think of her like that, especially not now that things are seemingly okay between them. Seemingly, because he's not fooled by the false light in her eyes and the half-hearted smile on Derek's face. He kind of wants to slap both of them until they see what a good thing they have going in one another but he wouldn't dare. That's not his place. He's just along to watch to ride, whether it jumps the tracks and crashes in a fiery death or safely makes it around all the twisting loops and stomach turning spirals is not his call.

"Can you stop being a little bitch for one second and listen to me? I have a problem and you're my go to guy, though God only knows why." Derek slouches into the wooden kitchen chair and begins fidgeting through the paper so as to look busy when Addison comes back out.

"I'm your only guy friend and fine." Mark grumbles and takes the spot across from him snatching the sports section as he begins to open it. "But I'm taking this…"

"Ok, all we do is have sex. Good sex, really good, hell great sex most nights and I-"

"And you are complaining because your hot wife wants to screw your brains out. What is wrong with you Derek?"

"It's not about the sex."

"Then why are we talking about it!" Mark groans and turns the page catching up on tennis scores that he doesn't even understand.

"We don't…you know talk anymore."

"You guys talk all the fucking time. I see it with my own eyes. You should accept the fact that maybe things are better here now. Accept that you're both happy and I know it's been a while or whatever but don't be a pussy on this one."

Ignoring the non-logic Derek flits over the headlines. There is no way he is going to be able to convey that every time he is on top of, or under, or next to Addison it doesn't feel like it's his wife. It feels frantic, like they need it to keep on breathing, like it is keeping them afloat in the stormy rain. He sighs and decides to try harder. Maybe it's only him that feels this way because she's been awful enthusiastic lately.

Maybe it's just him.

-----

"Nope, one more inch to the right." She mocks with a smile as Mark drops the couch in their new living room causing Derek to lose the heavy load and crush his thumb under the weight into the wood floor.

"Fuck!" He calls waiting for Mark to lift it off his hand. "Damn it Mark. Give fair warning next time or something!" He face red with anger Derek paces the room ignoring Addison when she tries to inspect the injury.

"You didn't give fair fucking warning when we were bringing up the bed frame and you slammed me into the wall." Mark retorts nudging the couch back into place with his hip.

"That was an accident." Derek grumbles as Addison finally gets a hold of the wound to make sure nothing it broken.

"It's fine, you big baby." Mark calls from the other side of the room enjoying the feel of the new high backed suede couch.

"Did you have to pick the heaviest couch in the history of the world?" He spits at her as she wiggles his thumb around.

"It matched the rest of the room, it's not like I asked how much it weighed and decided to go about it that way." Addison snaps immediately feeling all of the pent up aggression bubble forth. Years of not responding, weeks of pretending to be okay, a month of saying Seattle is fixing things and all she wants to do is punch her fist through a wall and leave it at that.

"Sorry." He mutters heading to the kitchen hoping that the newly turned on refrigerator will spit out some ice into the semi-clean dish towel that is laying in the sink.

She wants to have it out with him. She wants to scream and shout and break plates while throwing them at new flooring; watching the shards scratch the shiny surface, implanting imperfections. She wants to yell until her voice goes hoarse and sob until she can't breath and just get it all out in the open. Her psyche needs some relief but instead she pushes it aside with clenched fists and a reply of, "Me too." She joins Mark on the couch ignoring his obvious stare until she hears a pager in the back of the house. "I got it!" She calls and races away to safety.

Moments later she returns holding up a black pager and proclaiming, "Derek, it's yours. Chief."

"Great." He gripes reemerging. He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and walks away dialing. She busies herself unpacking the plates she wants to kill with and takes four cleansing breaths like her childhood therapist taught her to. Four breaths, close your eyes, envision your happy place, just four breaths Addison. Her lashes bounce open to see Derek standing in front of her.

He kisses the side of her mouth and explains, "I need to go in for a little while. You be okay with the career destroyer in there?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Are you going to be home in time for dinner?" The worry shines through her make-up free face and he grins.

"I'll do my best."

She hears the red front door click shut before she mutters, "Yeah, just like you always do."

"Passive aggressively talking to yourself again?" Mark questions with his infamous smirk.

"Shut up." She retorts.

"So what do you want to do for dinner?" He saunters to the counter and hops up letting his bare feet dangle in the warm filtered air.

"We should wait." She bends over removing the next plate and carefully unwraps it from its safe keeping. Placing it in the dishwasher she reaches for the next one and continues her monotonous cycle.

"No, we both know he won't be back anytime soon and I'm already hungry plus I did all the heavy lifting today while your whining little husband stood there and directed, so you owe me dinner. Now, what sounds good to you?"

"Nothing." Is the immediate response but he pokes her in the side with his foot and she jumps when he touches her.

"Whoa there lil' fella. We've got a live one!" Mark teases.

"Can't you just go away? Go find what's her face again or something?"

"I don't know a 'whatsherface', sorry…you're stuck with me tonight."

She drops the last plate into the dishwasher and slams the door shut. "I just want to be alone right now. Do whatever you want for dinner, just leave me out of it." Normally that would be a bit harsh on her part but after a full day of his relentless joking and her husband's disappearance all she wants is a nice hot bath.

-----

An hour later with a towel wrapped around her head she steps back into the living room where Mark is toying with setting up the new TV. "Sorry about earlier." She whispers.

"That's alright. I took the liberty of going out and grabbing some alcohol and Chinese food…neither of which are probably going to taste any good but I figured we had better start locally within the neighborhood and figure out what we're working with before going all the way to the other side of town for the good stuff."

"Yeah." She lifts the edge of the multi-colored rug with her toe and creases the new fabric nervously.

He looks up from the pile of cords in his lap. "Is there something else you needed to say?"

She decides not to start in on him about the relationship status of his best friend and turns away toward the kitchen only to return with his badly picked wine and three cartons of food, one set of chopsticks and a fork. She drops the silverware into lap before handing him the container of kung pao chicken. Keeping the mild dish in her hand she breaks apart the sticks and delicately grips them before dipping into the rice.

"I could never understand why anyone would want to eat with those." He laughs and finally digs his fork eagerly into his dinner. With his mouth full he murmurs, "This is awful."

"I know." She replies and then after a breath they both spit out, "Med school." She giggles a little and stretches out her freshly washed legs onto the cool wood. "Thanks for getting dinner, I think technically it was supposed to be me-"

"You can get it next time." He returns setting down the carton and taking a long look at the red headed woman in a white fluffy robe next to him. He has no idea what keeps her with Derek but as long as he makes her happy and vice versa he wont have to knock any heads around. "He'll be back soon." He says quietly to his fork.

"No he won't." She shakes her head and tries to smile because Seattle is different. Different in the way that his case load isn't as heavy or frantic but exactly the same in the way that he leaves and sometimes doesn't come home for hours. He's always there in the morning though so she tries to take the small victories when her inner woman pipes up and says that it's not okay to live like this. "You don't have to lie to me Mark, I'm in my marriage, I understand what it's like, trust me." And then the 2 comes out to play and he is toeing the line by brushing her hair behind her ear.

He clears his throat and figures it is now or never. Taking another sip of liquid courage he decides to quench his curiosity, "Derek said you asked for a divorce back in New York…why are you here Addison?"

She's only got one answer and he won't get it. Unfortunately, the same question is usually the first thing she thinks of in the morning and the last thing she remembers before going to bed. "He's Derek." She steals away the bottle of wine and takes a sip trying to break up the tension in the room.

"Derek's an ass."

"True." She quips.

"You deserve better." He replies grabbing the bottle from her reach. He's seen drunk Addison and he is not prepared to deal with that. Not right now.

"Says you."

-----

"Shep!" Richard calls out. Derek shoots a hand out to stop the elevator doors from shutting and waits for his arrival.

"Hey Richard." Derek replies casually watching the people shift around the elevator in an attempt not to stare or eavesdrop.

"Late night?"

"Got called in…by you. Great memory you have there."

"Oh, you know me. Anyway I wanted to ask you how things are going." He tugs on his hat and smiles warmly at his young prodigy. It's good to have him back.

"Things are good." They ride silently until the next floor where everyone runs out afraid and intimidated. Richard gives a stern glare to the people trying to hop onboard and then they are whisked away in the metal capsule alone.

"I meant with Addison, Derek."

"Oh…Things are good. Really good. We just started moving all of our stuff into the new house; we should have you and Adele over. Dinner sometime."

"Well, I bet Adele would like that."

"I'm sure she would." They finally arrive at their destination of the lobby and Derek gives a small grin before walking away into the dark night.

It's so easy to lie when no one is noticing. It's so easy to pretend when no one cares enough to point out the difference. But he didn't come here for that. He came to get away, to escape New York and all of its complications. So far he isn't sure if he likes any of the changes but he does certainly realize just how much he must have been missing his wife the last few years. Waking up next to the long curtain of tangled red hair, kissing her nose to make her giggle and being able to catch her around the waist when she tries to brush by him in a hurry are just part of his normal everyday routine now and he couldn't imagine it any other way…even if sometimes things feel a little awkward. There's marked improvement and if he has any say there will continue to be.

His headlights hit the brick of his new home and he can't help but think there should be a family inside, well at least one that includes small children not just children who are six plus feet tall and go by the name of Mark. He saunters up the path taking his time to notice the newly planted flowers and freshly laid stone that lines the walk. Turning his key in the door he finds a scene that he'd really rather not see ever again. On his couch lies his best friend which is nothing short of the ordinary but on top of him Addison is curled into a ball and tucked under his chin like a purring cat.

He's about to storm the scene and beat the shit out of Mark for thinking that it is acceptable to cuddle with his wife when he sees Mark hold a finger up to his mouth. He kicks his shoes against the wall still hell bent on getting to be mad and crouches down beside the couch. "She's out…and I swear to God if you did anything to her I will slit your neck and not sew you back up." He whispers.

"Relax Derek, she's completely and utterly shit-faced and your responsibility when she wakes up puking in about oh…I dunno," he looks to his watch, "…about three hours."

"I go to work and you get her drunk? You know she can't hold her liquor after more than two drinks!" He peels the blanket off of Addison and braces himself to get ready to lift her.

"I didn't get anyone drunk, she did what she wanted. Plus she gets rather talkative when she'd inebriated. You think I would pick that over a quiet night of hogging the remote?" He tries not to grimace when her warmth is noticeably gone.

"We'll talk in the morning." Derek calls over his shoulder when he begins to take on the stairs that lead to the master bedroom.

"Can't wait Dad!" Mark groans, chucks the blanket to the floor and stomps off down the hall to the room in the house that he has no idea why he is staying in. He likes to tell himself that he hasn't moved here and will be vacating the premises shortly so there is no point in getting an apartment but the truth is that he isn't sure if he will live here or not. He would hate to lose the only family he's got and at the same time he doesn't think he has it in him to be around them twenty four seven. He has got to get out of this house before he does something they'll all regret.

-----

"Mark..." She grumbles angrily when Derek lightly drops her against the mattress that contains only the fitted sheet and one pillow.

"It's me honey. " He digs through boxes finally finding another odd shaped throw pillow that will have to work and a few blankets.

"Derek. " She giggles when he unties her robe to find nothing underneath.

Deciding she can't sleep in a robe and would bitch endlessly if she woke up cold from sleeping naked, he sorts through a few more boxes labeled dresser and pulls out a fresh pair of boxers and an old t-shirt that portrays a subway station. Definitely a tourist shirt of some kind and he has no idea whose it is, probably Mark's. "Addie arms up."

She laughs and shoots her arms into the air capturing Derek's mouth when he slides the material over her face. "Hello there…"

"You're drunk." He wraps an arm around her waist and helps her stand so he can pull the striped blue shorts up. He folds the waistband a few times to make them more snug like he's seen her do hundreds of times before depositing her on the bed again and heading off to the bathroom to see if a trashcan was unpacked or brought in yet. Finding his fate he brings back the empty waste receptacle in preparation of her downfall.

"Derek?" She asks when he slides in next to her and tugs the blankets around them both.

"Yeah Add?" He sighs when his neck jams on the stupid green pillow and deciding that no pillow is better than having that thing and a whole lot of pain in the morning, he tosses it to the floor.

"Our marriage sucks." She whispers into the darkness sobering up more quickly than she'd like to. Now's the time to say it, now is the time to vent it all out, when there is an excuse to fall back on.

"What?"

"Nothing….never mind." She twists away from him when he rolls over and looks at her imploringly.

"You think our marriage still sucks?"

"Don't you?" She asks quietly.

"I thought it was getting better…I thought…I thought that you were happy, you're happy right?" Derek asks babbling so quickly that there is no way to hide his nerves. It's all news to him.

She wants to think that she just doesn't know how to be happy anymore, or that maybe she really is and simply isn't appreciating it to its fullest abilities because her life? Not shabby by any standards, so she tries really hard to feel blessed and fulfilled when wanting to pull out her hair. She should tell the truth, that's what they preach; what they teach but the way the moonlight is bouncing off his edgy figure she knows she can't actually say what she needs to. She can't tell him that sometimes there is this never ending black hole and no matter how hard they work she doesn't think it is ever going back to how it was because they're different now. They've grown and evolved into different people now and maybe they're people who don't belong together anymore but she's not saying it; she can't.

"I'm happy Derek." She murmurs trying to sound sincere and whole hearted. She has to be happy, there's no reason not to be.

He exhales so deeply that China probably would have heard it if they were paying attention and wiggles closer to her. "Good. I'm happy too." And he is most of the time, the times when he doesn't come home to find her on top of Mark and realizes that he's actually the one to blame for leaving the two, who generally hate each other, alone for the night.

"That's good. I need sleep now."

"Atta girl, wake me up when you need to puke, I'll hold your hair." He grins feeling slightly relieved.

"I'm not going to vomit Derek."

"You always say that." He jokes and inches closer to rest his head on part of her pillow.

She rolls over avoiding his face and smiles when she sees the trash can. He's being attentive, loving, caring much unlike all those drunken nights in New York where he would simply turn a blind eye to her green color and let out a snore when she needed her hair tied back. She doesn't know what the hell is wrong with her. He's Derek and she's Addison and really this shouldn't be so damn hard.

It shouldn't be so difficult to find each other.

-----

Hours later after the predicted vomiting game Addison rolls onto her back and curses the sun for existing. She feels the bed shift next to her and clutches her stomach as the nausea rolls like waves through her pit. "Stop moving." She orders.

"You said some things last night."

"Mark?" She cracks one eyes open to see him dressed for the day and offering a cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a few aspirin.

"Derek already went in, he told me to make sure you were alive before I left so…here." He jams the bottle of water into her hand and tosses the drugs on her shirt covered chest.

"Thanks." She replies groggily and pats herself feeling around for the pills of a glorious intervention.

"You said things last night."

"I'm sure I did."

"You don't remember?"

"I remember eating horrible Chinese food, laughing at you when you got electrocuted by the outlet and then there's nothing…yet. I'm sure it will come back to me but right now I'd just as soon not use my brain."

"I'm going back to New York at the end of the week. I don't have any more cases and the Chief is pitching a hissy fit so I figured it's time."

"Thanks for the warning." She jabs and then closes her eyes again placing the cool bottle against her forehead and willing the hammers to stop pounding away inside her skull.

"Addison-"

"Don't. Just don't. I have no idea what I said and if it was inappropriate I deeply apologize, we all know how I get when I'm drunk. I say things I don't mean and-"

"No, you say what you mean when you're drunk…and you keep up the charade when you're sober, don't twist it. I'm not stupid." He fumbles off the bed and opens the door letting it swing back and hit the wall loudly. "Good luck with the hangover…and with everything else."

"Fuck." She grumbles when the door slams hard against its holder.

-----

"Later man, you better call. Don't make me sick Nancy or Kathleen on your ass." Mark smirks and pulls his ticket from his jacket a few days later.

"I'll call." He reassures him with a pat on the shoulder and watches the many travelers bounce around happily.

Mark pauses for a second because he doesn't quite know how to word things most of the time so he just stays out of the way but this has to be said. "Take care of Addison."

"I'm trying."

"Try harder and stop dashing out in the middle of the night- she doesn't…- never mind, just take care of each other, alright?" He'd almost be willing to bet that he could cry in the situation. He's losing his best friends to the rain capitol of the states and is forced to actually go live his life alone from now own. It's terrifying.

"I don't deserve her. I know. I don't know why she's still around but I'm thankful Mark, I am."

"Ok."

"Ok then. Nice talk. See you at Thanksgiving." He smiles.

"Yeah. See you." He walks away knowing full well he won't be at Thanksgiving or Christmas this year. Everything's changed; everything except him.

After a boring ride back he steps into the now awfully vacant feeling living room of his house wondering how he'll fair with truly being alone with Addison for the first time in a month. There's no one here to act as a buffer. "Addie! I'm home."

She doesn't pull herself from the couch in the study. She doesn't untuck her knees from their place pressed up against her chest and she makes no effort to wipe away the tear tracks from her cheeks. He'll find her eventually and she'll have to explain or think of a way to say that Seattle is all wrong and she just wants to go home even if that entails losing him to his job again. It's not Mark leaving that's the problem. It's her. Her and her need of everything to be in sync and understandable and right now with Derek out in the great state of Washington with all its trees and dirt, nothing is making sense.

"Honey?" He calls from the doorway and looks at her quizzically. He steps further into the room and sees the red puffy eyes matching the equally flushed nose and decides not to ask. If it's important and not just a girl thing then she'll tell him. She'll say something. Instead he plods down the carpet and pulls her into his lap when he sits down. "You alright?" She nods and he tries desperately to think of something. "So I was hoping we could talk a little now that we're alone."

She pulls back and scoots out of his reach before nodding again, "Ok. What about?"

"Well…I know this is coming out of left field but since we moved here, more specifically into this house I can't help but think of how great it would be to have some small feet running around the halls tormenting us."

She peers up incredulously, "You want to have children now?"

"Do you?"

"You think we can have children now!" She shouts at him and stands from the couch to begin pacing the room.

"I thought it would be nice. We always wanted kids Add, and we're here and it's good here. We have a yard and there aren't sirens every ten minutes and neither one of our jobs is that demanding anymore. I'm saying I'm ready. I'm ready to have a baby with you."

She's about a tenth of a second from losing it anyway so she gives in to all of the guilt, all of the pressure, all of the anger of years gone by. "A baby will not fix this. We can not bring a child into this hollow shell of a marriage Derek. No, no, no. No!"

"Hollow shell? I thought-"

"It's not better; it's not okay here either! You're still you, present more now granted, but you're you and I'm me and I'm holding it all in and I don't want to hold it all in anymore. I'm done with this…this bullshit. I can't take it anymore."

"You can't-"

"Stop interrupting!" She spews and flicks on the button on the wall to the gas fireplace as her skin begins to shiver for the moment. "You say you're trying."

"I am trying." He replies calmly ignoring her request to stop butting in.

"Stop it, God listen for once!" He stands up and watches her spin in a dizzying dance of hand gestures and facial expressions. "Don't touch me! Don't you dare try and stop this conversation." She warns and he sits back down heeding at least one command. She takes in a large breath of air and closes her eyes tight. "I want the divorce Derek. Give me the divorce."

He stops breathing at some point and doesn't realize it until his lungs burn when he tries to speak. Every fear is confirmed, every skeleton is bolting from its closet, every car is skidding to a halt and it hurts everywhere. "Addie please."

"Don't do this. Don't look at me like that. Don't beg me to stay, be a man and let me go. It's not like you want me around for anything anyway."

He tightens his fist in time with the squeezing of his heart and looks up at her with watery eyes. "I can't."

"Yes you can, yes you can!" She paces to her bag hanging off the old wooden desk chair and takes out the papers throwing them in his lap.

"You kept them." He whispers as his fingers trail over the letters and his eyes behold their names at the bottom. She had them the whole time.

"Let me out." She replies equally as soft when the tears begin to etch down her face once again. She can't get herself out. There's no real reason to walk away, especially when she can't pin point down the problem to anything but herself. He has to do it. If he cuts the ties then she can move on.

"No. I can't." He demands again and stands chucking the papers behind the barrier and into the red flames. The agreement ignites immediately and balls up into a charcoaled mess as he tightly embraces the woman who keeps trying to leave him. He won't let her go; he doesn't know who he is without her.

She doesn't respond to his touch. She stands motionless, silently sobbing into the warm air as her back up plan meets its untimely demise. The embers burn brightly in an orangish hue and she sighs heavily when the last of it disintegrates into nothing. It's all gone out the window to play in the never ending droplets. "Please." She cries out against his wet shoulder and shakes her head when he pulls her tighter to him.

"I can't Addie. I can't. Don't you see how much I love you?" He asks softly into her ear when the tears begin to perk up in his eyes. He'll go to war before this all washes down the drain. He will not have nothing to show for his life, he will not let the love of his life waltz out into the rain without him as an umbrella to guard her.

She knows it's true. It's all true, he does love her and she does love him but that's not the issue. That's not what's missing and then it clicks. The light bulb gleams brightly and the hamster is back on the wheel doing double time as her mind spins. What's missing is their passion. Their burning need to make things work, to live life to its fullest has subsided into a comfortable routine of keeping things bottled up until she asks for a divorce and he almost cries. She doesn't know who to blame anymore so she raises her head up and presses her cheek to his letting the wetness soak his stubble and voices a shaky, "I know."

Love was never the problem.

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