what i'm here for

Chapter 18: Starting Over

The hospital seemed emptier without the mass of interns that usually frequented the hallways at all hours. The soon-to-be residents with interns of their own had now been off for a week, giving the hospital one more week to prepare for the shock of the returning residents plus the new batch of interns. However, just because there were fewer doctors around, didn't mean there were any fewer patients demanding treatment, and without interns to do the grunt work, Derek had found himself surprisingly busy. Something many of the other Attendings, namely Mark, complained about, but which Derek was quite happy about. It kept his mind off things. Namely Meredith.

However, he was in a relatively good mood today, having returned home the night before to have Izzy hand him a postcard. It had been from Meredith. And it had been addressed to him. At her address. Meredith had sent one to Alex and Izzy as well, but it hadn't made his any less special. It was the fact that she had sent it to her own address, knowing he would be there to get it. For the first time in six days, he had fallen asleep happy, instead of exhausted and depressed, the card safely on the table beside him. It had, in all effect, become his lifeline over the past twenty-four hours, pulling him out of the hole of depression he seemed to be wallowing in. His exhaustion and stress had made things seem worse than they actually were. Because one week down, and things were still okay. Only one week left. And he had a postcard, which had now taken up residence on the bulletin board in his office.

Having checked his post-op patients, he headed to his office to finish some paperwork, sighing as he passed the now vacant office, still boasting the Head of Cardiovascular Surgery plaque, but lacking the name plate that once sat underneath it. The day after the girls had left, Derek had walked in the front doors of the hospital, surprised to see Burke, clad in street clothes, box in hand, exiting. One glance at the older man's face, and Derek knew this would be the last time Burke left Seattle Grace. Having given his notice and emptied his office, he was taking the last load to his car. Preston had bid a short goodbye to his friend, only pausing to make Derek promise to tell Cristina himself about his leaving. And then he was gone.

Derek sighed heavily and got to work. It was over an hour later that he heard a knock at his door, raising his head to find his ex-wife standing in the doorway.

000

"Hey," Addison said as Derek looked up from his work. "Sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute?"

Derek dropped his pen. "Sure, you need a consult?" He made to get up.

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that. It's just...I leave tomorrow and I feel like I really need to talk to you before I go."

He sat back, regarding her warily, obviously unsure of her intentions. However, he nodded and motioned for her to take the chair opposite his desk.

She smiled thankfully and took her seat, shaking her head slightly at the sheer difference in his office, compared to the one in New York. The old one had been larger, sleeker, much more modern. She should know. She had decorated it herself. The furniture had been fancy, a custom matched set, built for style not comfort. The shelves had been stacked neatly with organized sections for texts, journals and records. She had arranged an array of pictures along the wall, all in matching frames of course. His many degrees had been arranged prominently along the most visible wall, lined up chronologically, all perfectly level.

This new office was smaller, but much more inviting. The furniture didn't match, but was comfortable, from the old, oak desk to the large, off coloured couch at the back. The shelves were mis-matched, and held piles of textbooks here and journals there. A filing cabinet sat in the back, two drawers open, one more than the other. The wall was a light shade of blue, and the only decorative thing on the wall was an old frayed picture of a neuron, one commonly given away at medical conferences. Derek had probably inherited it with the office. Only his med school diploma hung on the wall, beside the desk, most likely on a pre-existing nail. There were only two picture frames in the room. One sat on top of a text book on the shelves behind Derek. She recognized it as an old picture of his family, taken years ago, when Derek was still in high school. The other, smaller, picture frame sat on his desk, facing him, so she could only see the back. However, she was pretty sure she knew what it held. And the bulletin board, on the wall beside his desk, had a postcard of a breathtaking coastline, pinned prominently above the mass of notes and reminders. And she didn't have to guess who it was from.