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@answerstosatan
(... are people still here? Asking for a friend...)
// Alex said Addison’s name and I’m over here feasting on the scraps of Addisex.
Take on the World.
@answerstosatan @satanisaddizen
In the wake of his marriage nearly crumbling to dust, Alex knew something needed to change. Years were shed off his rugged good looks the second it finally clicked. The topic had been on the table for some time, but the sheer enormity of the challenge intimidated the ped’s surgen, if he was being honest with himself. His wife was more than capable, of this he was sure. She had the experience and the sufficient knowledge and professionalism he lacked.
The stress had been eating away at them for months. The amount of fights they had shared was just insane. It was just getting bad and he knew it. It was either about money or time or purpose. Their schedules were constantly clashing. Alex simply missed working with Addison and following a case with her. They had always operated seamlessly together every step of the way, and over the last few years their connection had only seemed to have grown.
Sometimes all it took was one look across the room, mouth masked, and he knew what she was thinking. A nod, a subtle twitch. They were magic together.
But they couldn’t be magic together when they weren’t at their best and lately Addison and Alex had been far from their very best. Instead of tearing into each other all the time and bringing their score to what he decided couldn’t be any greater than a five, they needed to go back to being a ten. As surgeons. As partners. As parents.
When he arrived home at close to nine, it was to the sight of Addison and Gabriel curled up on the couch in front of the TV. “Hey Dad.” Gabriel greeted right away, the light of the screen reflecting his pale face. “We were just about to watch a movie, you wanna join?” Gabriel knew things between his parents had been tense lately, and Alex knew he knew it too. “Um…” Alex hesitated, running his hand over his face. He was tired and had been hoping to talk to Addison, but that damn son of his looked so hopeful. He shared a quiet glance with his wife before replying. “What movie?” Then he shook his head. It didn’t matter. “Can I have a shower first? I smell like surgery. Just start it without me and I’ll join.”
There was something different in his expression tonight, and he wondered if she would see it on him.
This fairytale life certainly hadn’t aged well. Not when the world seemed so determined to drive a wedge between the redhead and her husband. Surgeries, administrative responsibilities, and the pressure of raising their son had taken it out of them, especially over the past few months. Addison was so tired of juggling this, that, and the other thing. Above all else, she was tired of the fighting. In spite of her push for a change, they couldn’t come to an agreement, and she was growing tired of trying, slipping slowly into a learned helplessness and bitter complacency. That scared her more than anything else, having been down the path that she knew lay beyond the death of passion in a marriage once before. She loved her husband dearly, but sometimes she questioned whether they would ever be as they once were. They each had their respective duties to carry out, but where was the fire? The teamwork? Even the thought of it exhausted her.
Lately, they’d seen relatively little of each other. With Gabe growing older, the things that were proverbially supposed to get easier only seemed to be getting harder. Addison wanted to raise their son, but her responsibilities at work were making that difficult to achieve on a regular basis. Her rare days off were spent making sure his lunch was packed, homework finished, and practices attended. There was barely any time to get to know the little man her baby was growing into, and she hated it. Beyond that, she was vaguely aware of the fact that she was growing bitter and resentful, and rather than tearing herself apart for it, she found herself turning those feelings on Alex when she needed an outlet. It was stupid, unfair, frankly immature, and unfortunately beyond her control anymore.
At least tonight, she’d found the time to spend with her son beyond a ritual meal and the other somewhat robotic tasks of their routine. They’d had a good talk, during which Gabriel had asked an astute and pointed set of questions relating to how his parents were doing. Addison feared her reassurance, though heartfelt, rang hollow, and it killed her. Rather than face the firing squad that was her growing boy, she’d assuaged his fears momentarily with an exceedingly rare cuddle and the promise of a movie--one he could pick. It was getting late and she doubted he’d be able to stay up late enough to complete the film, but that didn’t matter. This was time for the two of them, and that meant everything to her.
As her son picked the film and queued it up on the screen, Addison heard Alex creeping over the threshold. An increasingly familiar sense of annoyance and misplaced protective instinct crept over her, knowing that he’d likely interrupt this precious moment and take her sweet boy’s attention from her, but Gabriel’s excitement silenced her deadly look before her eyes could raise to meet her husband’s equally tired face.
“Hi, honey,” she murmured, letting Gabriel’s voice overpower hers as the boy sat up a little straighter, eyes alight with youthful hope. They couldn’t keep doing this. It was written all over Alex’s expression as he tried his best to look ready to spend time with his family. She remained silent as the two most important men in her life shared their unfortunate exchange, her heart sinking as her son shrunk several inches back into her side with half-hidden disappointment. Addison wrapped her arm habitually around her child, rubbing his shoulder gently while her eyes finally met Alex’s. Her expression was unamused, but softened a touch as she read his face, the slightest hint of curiosity sparking within her. “It’ll only take a minute,” she reassured Gabriel, pulling him in closer as if to protect him from the turmoil he was an unwilling participant in. This had to stop. How, she wasn’t sure, but they had to see eye to eye on it. Their futures depended on it.
By the time the taps had run themselves out upstairs, Gabriel was fast asleep, head rested against his mother’s lap. She ran her fingers absently through his tousled brown hair, mind full of troubles that reflected in her worn expression. Something was imminently brewing on the horizon of this evening. She could feel it coming, but she wasn’t sure whether to steel herself for a fight or collapse under the weight of whatever pressure he’d undoubtedly put on them this time. The latter, she mused. The nastiness had always gone on behind closed doors, in moments when their son wasn’t here to bear witness to the ugliness of his parents’ discontent. She wasn’t about to change that.
Scooping him into her arms against sleepy protest, she struggled for a moment to stand under his weight--when did he get so big?--and carried Gabriel up to bed, tucking him in with a gentle forehead kiss for good measure. It was only after she’d shut his door that she let out the heavy sigh she’d been holding in. It was time to face the music, and under the overwhelming sense of dread, there was one small sliver of hope. Something in his expression had piqued her interest, although she was mostly unaware of it. Stepping into the space they had shared intimately for some years now, she shut yet another barrier between themselves and their son, clearing her throat softly to direct Alex’s attention toward her presence. “He’s asleep.”
Nowhere to hide
Bitch. The single, venomous word had served as a catalyst in her mind. She was already crumbling under the weight of her life as it stood: complicated surgical schedule, recovering from the physical and emotional toll of an unexpected injury, the hair triggers and unhealthy coping mechanisms that resulted from her inability to consciously process it all---her desire to push it down and bury it. In true ‘Addison’ fashion, it seemed, she’d made a series of questionable choices. Ones she didn’t want to rectify; consequences she refused to accept responsibility for. She’d been blind to her self-destructive tendencies for the short lifetime she’d spent in Seattle, until he had violated the ‘safe’ space she’d created and forced her to truly open her eyes.
Ugly, angry phrases echoed in her head. They cast sharp shadows across the walls, accented by the sound of shattering glass thrown on her behalf. Everything had been so blissfully quiet before--beautifully numbed by her own willful ignorance. She wanted to go back there, even if just for a minute. Instead, for the first time since coming back to Seattle, she was beginning to doubt herself. It was just an argument, she’d reasoned. It was normal--natural. She was under a lot of stress. So was he. It wasn’t the first time she’d raised her voice. It wasn’t the first time something had been broken out of frustration in her history. They were happy.
But it scared her---even if just a little bit. The memory of her argument with Matthew was accentuated by the phantom, searing sensation that re-ignited on her lips when she thought about that night in its entirety. Alex had started this. Somehow, with his infuriating, impassive nature, and the way he always managed to confront her; to stare through her and cut her so deeply and effortlessly. The way he unapologetically called her on her bullshit. The way he softened and consoled her so tenderly... The way his lips pressed against hers in that moment when she hated him so intensely--but wanted... needed it to happen just as fervently.
If she never saw Alex again, it would be too soon. How dare he talk about her relationship like he knew the first thing about it. Like he knew what went on in her twisted mind. Like he had some magnificent ability to see what she couldn’t. Addison wasn’t an idiot, and she certainly didn’t need someone to come to her rescue. Even if she had misjudged Matthew, it was her mistake to make. Her fight. Her cross to bear.
Yet the thought of his kiss kept creeping up from her subconscious mind, and before she could fully intellectualize the thought, she felt the way she ached for him. Her fingers brushed across her bottom lip, chasing the phantom sensation away. She’d kissed him back--if only for a moment.
She hated him, but she hated herself more.
Those brief moments where her body betrayed her had been replaying for the past several days as she buried herself deeper and deeper in her work. She rounded on her patients when Alex wasn’t around, seeking solace in obscure areas of the hospital where they wouldn’t have to see one another. She’d have to see him eventually. She knew that, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t avoid him for as long as possible beforehand. At least until she could set her confused emotions aside and treat him as a colleague. Her life--both of theirs, really--were messy. The last thing they needed was another opportunity to tear each other apart.
The last thing she needed was the truth shoved in her face before she was ready.
» Hello, is it me you’re looking for?
// oh hey. what’s up?
// that feel when you are like an actual surgeon now and you get 100000x more muse at work than at home.
“Such a shame.”
“I love you.”
“Go to bed.”
“I missed you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You’ll be back.”
“Oh my god.”
“Oh, shut up!”
“No I won’t!”
“Beg for mercy.”
“Don’t touch that!”
“Let’s go home.”
“I hate you.”
“You did what?”
“Just a taste.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Are you alright?”
“You’re my everything.”
“Are you finished?”
“Hold your fire!”
“You’re a coward.”
“No better time.”
“It’s a beauty.”
“Don’t drink that!”
“You’re so stupid!”
“Are you crazy?”
“Put it down!”
“Use your imagination!”
“I can’t go.”
“I’ll kill you!”
“Give it up!”
“Watch your step.”
“Let me die.”
“Want a sip?”
“Want a bite?”
“I smell something.”
“Are you happy?”
“Look at that!”
“Hold the door!”
“God damn it.”
“Say no more.”
“I’m not mad!”
“Is that smoke?”
“That’s not fair!”
“I’m not crying.”
“You did what?!”
“I did it!”
“Just take it.”
“Come on in.”
“That’s not good.”
“I made dinner. Your favorite.”
“You uh…. made dinner or bought dinner? The clarification is very important.”
She keeps a straight face for only a moment. They both know she’s no gourmet chef. She presents him with the greasy cardboard pizza box, opening it with dramatic flare. “I did say your favorite.”
of course 😇
// *lurks*.
Addison Montgomery.
(📷: francielly).