¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Runaway World ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸
1. Sunsets and Car Crashes

I promised myself that I would not start another story yet, but here I am. I was in a total Maddison mood today. I am like half Addek and half Maddison, and it all depends on which one I feel like on a specific day or time. Weird, I know, but it explains why I have two Addek stories and two Maddison ones. Anyway . . .

This starts during the crossover but part of the past is AU. It came to me while watching the movie August Rush (which I don't own), and it follows the very general plot (minus the music-y stuff.) So if you've seen the movie you know the basic idea. If you haven't, Addison uncovers a huge secret from her past, a secret that involves Mark. Meanwhile, Derek and Meredith are sorting out their engagement on their path to happily ever after. A few things are AU. Derek and Addison were married a little later than in the show, when they were about twenty-nine. Addison a few years younger than she is on the show; it's just the only way the storyline fits.

The title of the story comes from the song Runaway World by Making April, and the chapter title from the song Sunsets and Car Crashes by The Spill Canvas. I do not own either of those songs, August Rush, or Grey's.

Eight Years Ago: The Crash

"So have you decided what you're going to do about that yet?" Her mother gestured at her stomach, her tone the same as if she had been complimenting Addison's shirt.

"He's not a that, mothe – Bizzy. And I'm keeping him. I told you that."

Bizzy sighed, staring out the window. "What does Derek have to say about that?"

"It's not his decision; he's not my husband – yet. It's not his baby, anyway. It's mine and I don't care who or where the father is. I'm keeping him." Addison watched as Bizzy's polite incredulity turned to horror. It would have been funny if she wasn't ready for the blowup. Inside her, her child turned, and she smiled, rubbing the spot he liked to kick.

Bizzy's sharp eyes followed her movement. "The father isn't here now, Addison. Derek could leave you anytime if it's not his child. This could ruin your career. So please don't be ridiculous – you're not keeping this child."

"Yes, I am! I am keeping him!" Addison said angrily, standing up. Her white napkin fluttered slowly to the floor. It was so quiet in the restaurant she could have sworn she heard it hit the floor. The eyes of nearly every customer around them silently watched the confrontation between mother and daughter.

"I'm leaving," Addison whispered harshly, conscious of all her soundless surveyors. "I don't care what you think or you say – I stopped caring about that a long time ago. I'm keeping my son, and I'm doing it without your input."

"This is a mistake," Bizzy said coldly.

"You're right, I shouldn't have come here!" Addison said. She stormed out of the restaurant, sniffling in the cold air. She'd never be good enough for Bizzy, but she would be good enough for her baby.

She shoved the keys in the ignition violently and threw the car into reverse. She had only gotten about a block and a half. The gently twinkling Christmas lights were the last thing she saw. They were somehow frozen in her brain, a perfect picture of what life had looked like before it happened. Then the car slipping across black ice hit hers, and the terrible metallic screech was the last sound her baby ever heard.

When Addison finally opened her eyes again, she was alone in a field of glittering glass, only disturbed by the bright red covering her body.

She was unconscious again before the sirens began their wailing screams.

¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Sage ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸

He'd been waiting for them his whole life.

Tall grass, some taller than the eight year old boy, surrounded him. The moonlight illuminated the two paths before him: One led back to the Boy's Home where he grew up, and the other was the twisty black road stretching out into the darkness and the unknown.

A warm bed was waiting for him somewhere, but he'd sworn he wouldn't go back, no matter what. The other boys taunted and teased, but he remained adamant in his claim that his parents would want him, if he could only find them. Sage believed that something went wrong; something got messed up, something happened. Because they would have wanted him. He felt that more deeply than the sting of the cold night or the touch of the sun's warm rays.

They'd wanted him.

He had always thought they'd come looking for him one day, but since they hadn't, he had taken it upon himself to find them. The words of the others echoed through his head; he was too young; they were dead; they didn't want him; he'd never find them.

"But I will," he whispered. "They do want me. All I have to do is find them."

It hadn't quite dawned on the eight year old child how many people there were just in Seattle, where he was headed. He finally took the step out onto the road, and breathed in deeply. He felt good; this was what he was supposed to do. Fortunately for Sage, Fate was on his side.

¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Mark ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸

He'd lied. He'd lied to her. He'd looked deep into her blue eyes under the neon lights of Joe's bar and lied through his teeth.

The second she'd walked through those doors, at the side of her complete asshole of a brother, his heart had been his once again. Mark tried to play it cool, told her about Lexie, and pretended that he'd moved on, because he thought that was what she wanted to hear.

He wanted to love Lexie, he wanted her to be the one. Things were so simple with her, and so easy. But just because he wanted to love her didn't mean he did or could. There were only two people who'd ever held his heart in their hands. The first was a one night stand in Santorini, during some of his wilder days. Although he'd just been in Greece on a traditional 'see the world' whim, he'd never forgotten her. The second was, of course, Addison.

He shouldn't love her. They'd both hurt each other far too much. But love is blind, irrational, unaware of logic or sense. She'd left for LA months ago, returning only once, and he still hadn't moved on. Lexie was a step. Lexie was him trying. Lexie was a distraction from her that wasn't working. He did care about her; she was a truly good person. But life never offered him the easy routes.

He hated Archer. Okay, he hadn't hated him before, but after he found out about him sleeping with three of his past girlfriends (and they called him a manwhore? Seriously) he loathed the guy. And yet here he stood, making sure that his heart beat in a steady, exact rhythm while Naomi got coffee and Addison rested. He stood here, practically oozing rage that was so intense it could be radioactive, for her. Because she loved that bastard on the bed there.

How many times had he thought about what might have been? What if he'd been able to convince her that he loved her, that he was ready; that he could be what she needed? Images of what might have been played on endless loop in his head as he left Archer's room.

He deposited his full coffee into a nearby trashcan with unnecessary force, and almost didn't recognize her sitting there. Broken, defeated, miserable, although her brother was alive. The hallway was deserted, the lone chair she was curled up in was tucked in an alcove, and yet he couldn't completely mask his surprise.

"Addie? What are you doing?" he asked softly, standing in front of her.

"Oh, Mark," she said in surprise, looking up at him. "Um, I was just . . . umm . . . Is Archer okay?"

In the world of Mark, nobody could compare to the redhead slumped in the chair in front of him from lack of sleep. He knew she had been terrified for Archer, although why he supposed he'd never know. The guy was a prick and even more of a notorious manwhore than he himself was. But whatever the reason, he was there whenever Addison needed him; it was involuntary, completely out of his control.

"He's fine," Mark whispered soothingly. When she looked down at her knees, Mark knew she was losing a battle with the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, which soon escalated into sobs. She tried desperately to keep quiet but failed utterly, her choking noises attracting a few stares from nurses down the hall. Her curled red hair framed an utterly gorgeous face that was, at that moment, covered in black mascara smudges. She was huddled up, her arms around her knees. It was a posture he recognized from all the times he'd comforted her during her lonely marriage. Those days had ensured that he knew almost everything about Addison and how to take care of her.

"Ssh," he said softly, lifting her. He tucked her head against his chest and tried to settle her endless legs comfortably. She didn't fight him, so he wrapped his arms so tightly around her it was possible that her air supply was cut off. She didn't seem to mind.

They had a mutual understanding that even they couldn't fully grasp the implications of. It had frightened him in New York, and he cheated. It had scared her in Seattle, so soon after having her heart smashed to pieces by the divorce. They simply understood each other on a very rare level, their own special frequency. Addison knew after watching him for a few moments with Lexie that there was something going on between them. Mark realized the second the back doors of the ambulance burst open that she was freaked out and more broken than she was letting on to anyone.

"I was so scared." Her voice was barely audible, but he heard. She sounded like a small child, revealing depths to him that she did to no one else.

It wasn't right, and it wouldn't last, but he allowed himself just those few minutes to pretend with her. It wouldn't be long before she got up, wiped her tears, and pretended it hadn't happened, and he returned to Lexie and smiled along while still smelling Addison all over him. But in that moment, she needed him, and he was there.

¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Meredith ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸

It had taken her an age and a half, but she was finally ready.

She was ready to be Derek's fiancée and eventually his wife, ready to carry his children inside of her. Once upon a time the idea had terrified the hell out of her, but she was a different person than she'd been then. She found herself thinking of where they could get married, imagining what their kids would look like, and hoping for an entire lifetime.

She'd always been the girl who'd had a tad too much tequila, the girl guys liked to do but were afraid to love. Derek was the first person who'd ever made her feel otherwise, and in the long run, it had done a lot for her self-worth.

"Hey," came a voice from behind her, and strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist. The feelings that usually lay dormant inside her exploded as Derek's skin brushed hers.

"Hey," she replied, suddenly feeling unbearably happy, even though he'd been acting strange. Derek kissed her cheek softly and then spun her around to face him. She searched his face for clues about what had transpired with Archer Montgomery, but she couldn't discern anything from his expression. "How is he?" she asked aloud.

"We'll have to see," he sighed. "I operated, to save him for Addison, but . . . I don't know. I'm not sure yet if it worked, or if I was too late, or even if he'll wake up. We got all the worms and sacs, but that's no guarantee. If Addison loses Archer now . . . It'll destroy her. I think she's lonely, she doesn't really have anyone, you know? Anyway," he sighed again, his blue eyes troubled. She could tell the strain of an impossible surgery and the complications with his pregnant patient were wearing on him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Babies," she blurted out truthfully, and then sucked in her breath.

"You're thinking about babies again?" Derek asked, amused.

"I'm thinking about babies again," she confirmed.

"What about babies?" He was way too intrigued. Usually she avoided topics like kids as if they were death itself.

"Nothing, really. Just thinking about our future potential babies. Did you mean what you said about wanting my crappy babies?"

"Every word," he confirmed, kissing her lips this time. She wrinkled her nose at him, although she really just wanted to push him into an on-call room. No, what she really wanted to do was demand to know why he was acting so funny, but he was already so stressed about Archer . . .

There was probably a logical explanation. Neither Cristina nor Lexie seemed overly worried. Mark, Owen, and even the Chief were all staring at her. What did it mean? What did they know that she didn't? And did Derek have something to do with the blood red rose petal that had found its way under her pillow?

¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Addison ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸

She wasn't sure exactly how she'd ended up here.

It was all so beautiful, the colors so vibrant, the feelings so evident, that her eyes pricked with tears. It was supposed to be simple: He loved her, she loved him. Everyone was the star of their own love story, everyone except her. Every kiss, every touch, every smile cut her deep. She was the only one with nobody. Not that she had nothing – three houses, a twenty-five million dollar trust fund and the ability to save lives with a couple cuts and sutures certainly wasn't nothing. It just became utterly meaningless when the fact that she was alone was being shoved in her face.

Addison was surrounded. Meredith was sitting on Derek's lap, his arms tight around her; smiling as his lips brushed her neck. Naomi sat holding her brother's hand tightly, her face tight and concentrated, as if she was willing him to get better. Sam sat beside her in support, the huge grin on his face indicating that the voice on the other side of the phone was that of his girlfriend. He wasn't the only one on the phone; Bailey's expression revealed that it could only be her husband she was talking to. Alex and Izzie were sitting a few feet away. Her head was on his lap, and he was stroking her hair gently, whispering to her softly. Even Mark had somebody. A twenty-four year old intern, but still somebody. She looked at him as if his face were the sun, sky, and stars combined. It was admiration, yes, but something more as well. She wanted them all to be happy, she truly did. But each painful pulse of her heart reminded her that she didn't have what they all had.

Addison Forbes Montgomery was a wreck. A beautiful, Prada-wearing, rich, desirable wreck, but a wreck nonetheless. She felt like a shell of her former self, only pretending not to be in complete ruins. Everyone had left her, even her dead son who she was not allowed to think about. It was not Derek's impending engagement that upset her – she was at the point where she could wish him every happiness with Meredith. It was a melancholy feeling, but one that she would have been able to deal with. Seeing everyone happy took its toll, but really, to be perfectly honest, it was . . . him. Him perfectly content with someone who was not her. Maybe their wedding would eventually follow Derek and Meredith's, she wasn't sure. Already Addison was cursing herself for her weakness with him earlier. Mark certainly didn't know he was killing her by smiling at his intern, and he was not doing it intentionally, to hurt her. Still, she thought being staked would probably hurt much less. Whatever inner strength she had previously possessed was leaking away as life stacked up its chips against her.

The breath that escaped her lips signaled the end. She'd had enough – time to go find something she could fix, something that apparently wasn't herself. The pit was like a beehive, the activity slightly overwhelming in her introspective state. The red of blood, the grey of despair, the black of death, they all matched her mood exactly. So many patients, so much hurt, so much sickness. Apparently this was not about to help her out. Because with every injury she saw, she became surer and surer that that was her on the inside.

At least, that was true until the doors opened one last time. Addison sprinted forward to catch the boy without a thought. She yelled for a gurney without realizing what she was saying and cradled him against her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she noticed the color of his hair – similar to hers. She'd always pictured the baby she'd lost having that exact shade of hair. But then again, she thought she saw him in every child that came into the hospital. Eight years later, she knew she shouldn't be thinking about him. She couldn't seem to help herself, however – as the years passed, she always looked at the children a year older and a year older. This boy was just a random redheaded eight year old, and it just so happened that her son would have been eight.

Addison could almost pretend that he was hers as she lifted him onto the bed and clutched his little hand tightly. Blue eyes met light green, and he held onto her with the same desperation as she held him.

He was probably the cutest eight year old she'd ever seen. His copper hair flopped onto his forehead, and celery colored eyes took in every detail around him. Impish features were accentuated by a slightly upturned nose would give way someday to rugged, chiseled good looks. As his face turned toward her trustingly, her heart contracted. His gaze shifted between her, his teeth dug deep in his lip, to the doctors questioning him.

"Go ahead. It's okay," she said softly.

"Will you stay?" he asked, his voice raw and pleading. She didn't hesitate for a second, although the head lying on her shoulder was slowly staining her shirt red.

When she finally couldn't take it anymore, Fate intervened.

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He was finally about to get everything he'd ever wanted.

Derek just needed to figure out the perfect place to propose. The perfect gesture. He didn't want some grand cliché, but he didn't want it to be unceremonious or unmemorable either. Something unique, something that Meredith would like . . . he had nothing. No idea.

He knew Meredith deeper than just the surface, deeper than the person she showed to other people. He knew her soul. He knew all the goodness and all the fear and all the feelings of unworthiness and compassion and hope that made her Meredith. The words of his pregnant patient earlier made him think of Joe's . . . but he did not want to propose to her in a bar. There was his land where Meredith had built the candle house, but that already had one big romantic memory, and he wanted to make a new one. He definitely didn't want to do it at the hospital or her house, so where else was there?

Derek wanted to start the rest of their life together soon.

He sighed as he examined Archer's brain scans. He had done it. Against all odds, he had done it, just like Addison had saved his pregnant patient and her son. Doubt was becoming a constant companion, but he allowed his eyes to unfocus and his brain to wonder, to float away into a world of ifs and imaginings and possibilities, an ocean . . . An ocean. Well, the Puget Sound wasn't really an ocean. But there was water. And ferry boats. Derek grinned as the perfect idea began forming in his head.

This was just the intro, and a lot of setting up the next few chapters and giving the story a general direction. I'm going to include more bits from the crossover in later chapters. It will mostly be told by Derek, Addison, Meredith, Sage, and Mark, but may include other perspectives as well. I am rather apprehensive about this chapter, so please write me if you liked it. I am open to suggestions for further plot details you may have, as everything is not set in stone. Anyway thank you for reading, and drop me a line if you don't mind :D