Coming Up for Fresh Air

A Grey's Anatomy Fan Fiction

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is basically Grey's Anatomy from Derek Shepherd's point of view, because I personally think he's a really interesting character, and every time we see him in the show we never really Derek – we see McDreamy. I'm going to mostly stick to the story line, maybe change a few events here or there.

Anyway, you kind of have to be a fan of the series and know how the events go to really understand this story – this is from Derek's perspective so some things that happen to other characters that Derek wasn't present for will not be included. Unfortunately, if you don't already know the story you might really get lost without knowing why some of the events happen the way they do. Also, some things included in the story are treated as common knowledge – at least, for someone who knows the series.

Chapter 1 - Escape Route

Three days. It had been three days filled with silence and an overwhelming tension that made me want to just rip the door open and go away, anywhere. There couldn't be a place on Earth that I wanted to be less than my own house, with her in it.

She had tried to plead for forgiveness the first night. She was sobbing, begging, and literally throwing herself at my feet. At one point, I had been so angry that I threw her clothes and those tainted sheets out on the front step, pushing her out with them. But it had been pouring down rain on the streets of New York last night – I had to let her back in, no matter how angry I was with her. That was it, though. She slept on the couch each night since.

The second day, of course, was Saturday and we both had off. She kept being insanely helpful, cooking me breakfast (Lord knew Addison had never cooked a full meal in her life), doing all of my laundry, and drawing a hot bath for me. I guess she was trying to compensate by doing all of those stereotypical wife things – as if she could make up for it now. Why couldn't she have committed this treason on a weekday, when I might have been able to go lose myself in my work? It was one of those odd weekends that we had nothing planned, no charity auctions or polo matches or galas. This worked in my favor, because I couldn't so much look at my wife, or be in the same room as she was – playing a loving couple in front of all of those society couples would have been excruciating.

At the same time, though, I had nowhere to be. Normally, on a weekend off, me and my best friend Mark would go to our favorite bar and shoot pool, banter with our other friends, like Weiss, and talk about the women Mark had been seeing.

There was no way I could call Mark this weekend. Not when he'd been the one Addison had thrown away our marriage with.

On this third day, the house was so stifling I wondered why I tortured myself by staying. At least, though, Addison had figured out that I didn't want her attention or even her presence. I sat in my father's favorite armchair, trying to figure out why I was even still there. I guess it was some twisted obligation to the institution of marriage. But really, how was I supposed to salvage this? True, I had been somewhat absent, but how did that justify what Addison did? She should have talked to me – isn't that what all the relationship experts kept spouting? Communication is key to a successful marriage?

Well, I couldn't bear to say my wife's name. If that wasn't a sign the marriage was dead, I didn't know what was.

As I sat, I swore I felt the walls closing in on me. I had to get out. I was about to grab the keys to my BMW off of the dark walnut end table when the phone rang. Desperate to talk to someone who wasn't my wife, I picked up before the first ring finished, without looking at the caller ID.

"Derek Shepherd," I said, already feeling relief as the words flowed out of my mouth. Living in my own head for the past three days had been too strenuous; talking to someone –anyone - would be good.

"Derek," a warm, older man's voice poured into the line. "It's Richard. How are you doing?"

Biting back the truth and deciding my old mentor didn't need to know about my problems right now, I took a breath before I answered. "Hello, Richard. I'm doing fine, thanks. I heard you moved back to Seattle."

"Yes, I did," Richard confirmed. "Adele didn't like being so far away from family, and when my fellowship in New York finished up there was really no reason we had to be. I'm back at Seattle Grace. It's where I did my residency."

"Good for you. I hope they're finally treating you with the respect you deserve," I said, smiling. Richard Webber had been my own resident when I had started…and Addison's. I really looked up to the older man, even as I progressed through my residency and my neuro fellowship and into my private neurosurgical practice. The other staff members in New York, however, looked down upon the man from the Pacific Northwest. New Yorkers, especially those in the upper crust, had the tendency to do that.

"I'd ask how you were doing, Derek, but looking at the latest national rankings of neurosurgeons I'm pretty sure I already know," Richard joked, his voice full of pride. I may not have been his student anymore, but he loved hearing about his old interns' accomplishments.

"Yes, well, I think you made me jump through enough hoops during my internship that I should be the top-ranking everything. You can start bowing to my expertise any day now," I said, grinning. My marriage may have been falling apart, but I was undoubtedly the best at what I did.

"Well, as much as I hate to admit this to you, that's part of the reason I'm calling you. They named me Chief of Surgery at Seattle Grace, and we have a vacancy in Head of Neurosurgery. I have good neuro guys, but Seattle Grace is one of the top teaching hospitals in the country. I want the best. I want you," he said earnestly, his voice switching from friendly mentor to authoritative Chief.

I mulled it over in my head a bit. Seattle, compared to New York, was a bit in the middle of nowhere, but hadn't I said I needed to get away? It wasn't just Addison that was making me sick – Mark was here too. I needed to get far, far away from New York – and Seattle was just about the farthest from New York there was.

But I couldn't let Richard have me without a fight.

"I don't know, Richard. My practice is doing phenomenally, and I just don't know if I want to leave all this behind to go west."

"Derek, obviously you'd be well compensated. We're talking a $2 million a year starting contract – obviously the longer you're here the higher it goes, and with your talent we'll have neuro cases coming in left and right. It'd be great publicity, for you and the hospital. And the Chief of Surgery has a strong recommendation when it comes to choosing his successor – how would you like to be Chief of Surgery of one of the nation's leading hospitals in ten years?"

I thought the offer over. Private practice was lucrative, but also boring. It was mostly rich businessmen wanting their brain tumors removed so they could continue to ignore their children and alienate their families. The hospital setting provided a much wider set of challenges, and the promise of Chief of Surgery, especially for a hospital as renowned as Seattle Grace, was a definite draw. And I did want to get away from New York…

Richard misread my silence. "I understand, of course, if you want to talk it over with Addison."

"No." It came out much more forceful than I intended it to. "Tell you what, give me five days and I'll fly out. I just need to straighten some things out here before I leave."

"Oh," Richard said, the pitch of his voice unnaturally high. He was clearly surprised that I was so interested in picking up and moving across the country. "Is everything all right over there?"

"No, it isn't," I said, registering something moving near the doorway. Addison obviously caught part of the conversation. "But I'll tell you about it when I get there. I'll see you on Friday."

"Alright, Derek. I'm looking forward to seeing you here on my turf." I hung up the phone and turned around. It was the first time I had looked her in the eye since I found her in bed with my best friend.

"Where are you flying out to?" she asked, emphasis heavy on the first word. The accusation in her voice fanned my anger.

"Don't you think you've lost the right to know?" I said icily, trying to be dispassionate. I didn't want to get out of control.

"I'm still your wife, you know. You can't just pack up and leave and not tell me where you're going."

I had to fight the harsh words I wanted to respond with. How dare she? "Not much longer, you're not. Before I leave, I'm calling the lawyer."

"Derek, no, you can't do this!" She was getting upset. "I've said I'm sorry, I want you to trust me again. I know it will take time. I want it, I'm willing to do whatever I have to, wait however long I have to. I just want to save this. I want to save us."

"Addison." I turned to face the window of our living room, looking out at Central Park. "I can barely tolerate to be in the same house as you. I need to leave for awhile. I'm going to Seattle. Richard's Chief of Surgery, and needs a Head of Neurosurgery. I can't be in New York with you and Mark. I need to clear my head. The last thing I want is you hovering around me." I spoke in a flat monotone, defeated. She would have preferred it if I had yelled. Anger, she could deal with. Giving up, that didn't bode so well for Addison. She couldn't fight for us if I wouldn't let her.

"What about your practice?" she said quietly after a few minutes. "What about your family? Your life is here, Derek."

"That's the problem. My life is here – and so are you."

"You really can't stand me that badly – that you need to move across the country?"

"I don't know what I need – I only know that I can't do this. Not now."

I picked up the keys of the BMW that I had set down to answer the Chief's call. I heard Addison begin to cry again; softer than that first night, but she wasn't holding back, either. The worst part was that it killed me to say those things to her – but all of it was true, and I couldn't leave her with hope that I wanted to fix this.

I grabbed my briefcase on the way out, as well as a duffel bag I'd had packed since the first night. I had been about to leave several times, but had decided against it each time. This time I knew.

I pulled the BMW out of the residential parking lot and just drove. I didn't know where to go at first. Before, if Addison kicked me out, I went to stay with Mark, but that obviously wasn't an option. I circled the upper class neighborhood in Manhattan for awhile, passing all of the identical brownstones, until suddenly I knew who I had to tell.

I put my Bluetooth on my ear and dialed the second number on my speed dial. Right after Addison's – that would have to change. I listened for five rings, and finally, a warm voice picked up.

"Derek," my mother greeted. "How are you?"

"Not so good, actually, Mom. Do you mind if I come over for a few days?"

"You know you're always welcome here, Derek. Did you and Addison fight?"

"You could say that. I'll tell you when I get there."

"Of course, Derek."

"Thanks, I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Derek. I'll see you soon."

McIntern: One big event I'm not sure if I'll change or not is "pick me, choose me, love me" – the part where Derek has to choose between Addison and Meredith. I am personally a big fan of MerDer but it would add a lot of interesting tension, especially from Derek's point of view, but I also think if I wrote it my way it would be an interesting deviation from the prewritten plotlines. They eventually end up in the same place anyway, right? If you have an opinion either way, please let me know, as well as any comments, questions, or concerns about the story. I welcome constructive criticism – I really want this to be a story people are interested in reading!