Rainy Day

Author's Note:

Some angst here, and also hurt/comfort. :)

bobbiejelly

Rainy Day

It's raining again and it's fitting to suit your mood and also probably Addison's.

Meredith Grey/Addison Montgomery. Angst & Hurt/Comfort. Rated E.

It's freezing cold and raining again and it's fitting to suit your mood and also probably Addison's.

Since the moment she shook your hand, you empathize with her with the same love/hate thing that you've got going on and you don't know what to think of it all.

You see Addison Shepherd again, and you know you can never take away the pain that you caused her but you didn't know about the pain she caused Derek.

But the thing is, you forgive her, because she looks as broken and lonely as you felt when you were hiding the fact that your mother was sick from everyone, and so you get it the moment you hear she was hiding an entire life-changing ordeal with/from Mark Sloan.

Sure, maybe you shouldn't, but you do.

You walk toward her because you feel bad that you found out about her past even though she didn't find out about you and yours and that's mostly the problem between you.

Addition turns her head around, and you turn your shoulder a bit, and suddenly you realize that you're less than a foot apart, and you can feel the weariness from her tired and sore body against yours when your hip brushes hers, and it elicits a strange sort of feeling.

You can tell that she's trying not to show that she's cried, but you can see through her makeup to the redness in her eyes and you know that same look.

You've done the same thing every once in a while when your mother calls you one of her friend's names from med school instead of your own again.

Some days you see, they last too damn long.

You watch as Addison blinks away her tears and you step away and she steps in again.

Her lip quivers, and your hand trembles, and she reaches out for you to keep herself steady.

"Whoa."

It's the first thing either of you've said to each other today.

It's hardly even anything, and it wasn't meant to be for you.

Or anyone.

Because Addison doesn't usually stumble.

"I'm not drunk or high. I'm just sad," says Addison.

"Ah-" You say, because you're not sure what to think about that.

Usually, when you're that sad you're about to pass out from the alcohol.

Just as you think that to yourself, Addison speaks up in a whisper:

"Normally I'd have wine but I'm still on call for the patients..." Addison says with a clear sign of pain in her voice.

"Do you want wine then?" You ask her dumbly.

"Can't," says Addison.

"Right," you reply.

You realize you're not exactly being a great conversationalist here.

It doesn't seem to matter though, because Addison finally looks up at you and you see her eyes fully now, and you realize just how green they are, and how much they sparkle even when she's extremely downtrodden.