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remix_reduxTitle: Time Stops
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
severuslovesme
Summary: Ok, so she sometimes had visions of the future. So what?
Pairing: Addison/Meredith, minor Addison/Derek and Addison/Mark
Rating: R
Disclaimer: They belong to Shonda, not me.
Original Story: Surprised bytornyourdress
Notes Thanks to my beta!
It's so dreamy, oh fantasy free me//So you can't see me, no not at all//In another dimension, with voyeuristic intention//Well-secluded, I see all//With a bit of a mind flip
//You're there in the time slip//And nothing can ever be the same//You're spaced out on sensation//like you're under sedation//Let's do the Time Warp again! – Time Warp
*
Addison had read enough paperback fantasy novels – a holdover interest from a youth spent hanging out with the kids who really liked Star Wars – to not be quite as freaked out about it as she thinks she should have been.
Ok, so she sometimes had visions of the future. So what?
Yes, as a scientist she acknowledged that time travel was impossible. The problem of causality alone makes her head spin. The issues of future-you and present-you and past-you all colliding into just you were fine for books where the realities of science could be glossed over. In real life time travel was impossible and that was that.
But the dreams that left her confused until she caught up to the events in her real life, and the flashes she had sometimes that ended up coming true – well, they undermined her belief in the science a little.
*
She didn’t remember when she’d realized that these weren’t just girlish musings about a future as yet undefined, and rather the clear, unbounded vision of things that would eventually take place. Maybe it was mid-spin at her wedding, when the light swirled over Derek’s smiling face and the feeling that she had seen all this before swept over her. Maybe it was earlier, back when she’d met Derek for the first time and thought that his resemblance to her dream-husband was uncanny. Whenever it was, she vaguely remembered crying.
Some days she wondered if she was losing her mind, if the dreams were a manifestation of her break with reality. Usually on those days she toyed with the idea of telling Derek about her nighttime travels to the future, but she always stopped herself before the words could slip out. Successful surgeons did not inadvertently time travel. It was as simple as that.
*
The night she met Mark Sloan and recognized him from a dream she wished they really were just hallucinations brought on by stress.
There was some subtle comfort though, she mused years later, in believing that everything was foretold. So kissing Mark, sleeping with Mark, all of this had happened already and really, who could blame her? She was only doing what she’d done already before, only following fate.
Fate that Derek would eventually find neurology patients easier to talk to than her, that cafeteria food would be more appetizing to him than anything she cooked. Fate, and therefore not her fault. A future written and defined before they even met.
By the time she realized that these patterns were written in advance, Derek had found out and moved across the country to escape her. She hoped for another dream, to know what her future would be. Who fate had chosen for her, Mark or Derek.
Addison had plenty of dreams about Mark and Derek, but most of them just involved jerky images and pain, and none told her anything about the future.
So she followed Derek to Seattle, because maybe she should take the future into her own hands, and found him with a face she recognized. A woman from a long ago dream involving Derek and stairwells was standing there smiling up at him. Addison’s heart constricted.
Fate, she chanted over and over again in her head. Fate and not my fault.
*
She stayed in Seattle, because Derek was prevaricating about the divorce, and when Mark turned up she wondered if maybe fate could have given her just a little warning that this was about to happen. Just a brief time traveling dream that might suggest that things were about to get a whole lot worse than they already were.
Time traveling was small part blessing, big part curse – she wished she had seen what had happened at the prom in a dream, if only to see the truth on Derek’s face.
She wished she had had a premonition of Cristina Yang walking in on her crying in the ladies bathroom on the fourth floor, because that was something she would have avoided if she could have. Avoiding one’s husband’s mistress’s best friends was not a sign of weakness, she told herself. Anyway, that was how this time travel thing worked, obviously. She always got the raw end of the deal, the short end of the stick, insert fatalistic cliché here. Fate was enjoying the chance to fuck with her.
*
Except then she had a dream about Meredith.
It was a few months after the prom, after she left Derek for real this time and he and Meredith were still playing happy families. She was in her new apartment, which still felt so empty and impersonal despite her belongings strewn around like a normal person lived there.
She was lying there on the big cold bed, when she realized that she was in fact at the hospital. At the hospital in her pink pajamas, and it didn’t feel like she was dreaming. The lights were too bright and her feet were cold on the floor and the things in the room felt solid.
Meredith was standing in the doorway, just looking at her. But not looking at her like she normally did, eyes full of confusion and maybe a flicker of anger. Looking at her like a friend or maybe more, looking at her like she cared about her.
And then there was less looking because Meredith was kissing her and she was kissing Meredith and both of their hands were everywhere. Meredith’s hands were on her breasts and her hands were in Meredith’s hair and it was clearly not the first time they had done this because the hands on her were familiar and competent and sweet. The pale pink polish on rounded nails was chipping off.
Her blood was humming in her veins at the glory of Meredith’s hands on her, where no hands but her own had been for some time. Her brain was sluggishly making an effort to figure out what was going on, but the spikes of pleasure that were sent its way prevented any rational thought from emerging.
Meredith’s pager beeped and Addison woke up in her own bed. Her pajama top was unbuttoned.
Finally, finally fate was working for her.
*
She felt a smile curve its way over her face when she saw Meredith the next morning, fresh-faced and oblivious to Addison’s prophetic nighttime wanderings. Her smile grew bigger when she saw Derek tagging along behind Meredith, also unaware.
Someday soon Meredith would want her and not Derek, and she nursed that small pleasure deep in her heart while she watched them both dance around each other and together and finally apart.
The end of the world’s most perfect romance was hot hospital gossip for weeks, and Addison got more than her share of questioning glances, as if she could possibly be responsible. Well, she was, just not the way they thought. And she wasn’t, because the future had already happened.
She liked that Derek’s eyes drifted over her more often after the breakup, but she liked the appraising glint in Meredith’s glance even better.
*
When Addison slid onto the stool next to Meredith’s at Joe’s and felt her leg brush Meredith’s briefly, she felt that for the first time maybe it wasn’t so bad being fate’s prisoner or favorite plaything or whatever.
She bought her a drink and felt the eyes of fellow hospital employees watching them, cataloging their smiles and friendly conversation with wonder. Obviously people expected more catfights and less civility. Well, she’d never been predictable.
Addison felt Derek’s eyes on her and hid a smile.
*
When Meredith kissed her for the first time she thought ‘at last’ and kissed her back. They were in her apartment and soon in her bedroom, and Meredith’s hands on her body were new but also familiar and the thought made her laugh out loud.
Then they were a Gordian knot of limbs and a tangle of long hair and slim fingers twisting and sliding over skin. Flickering in Addison’s mind were the images from her dream, the on-call room bed merged with the bed they were in now and skin shined in the harsh overhead light and glowed in the soft light of her bedroom.
*
Weeks slipped by and they met in on-call rooms and very occasionally Addison’s apartment, and Derek was only a shadowy figure on the periphery of her attention. They were prompt to answer pages, and never forgot to lock the door, and somehow the hospital gossip hadn’t caught up with them yet.
One morning she’d had to miss Meredith in the on-call room for an emergency surgery, and found her later with a familiar kind of smile on her face.
Addison’s smile faded and she wondered where Derek had been all day, if maybe he was the reason Meredith looked freshly fucked.
Meredith’s eyes lit up when she saw Addison though, and Addison was startled to recognize the messy ponytail and chipped nail polish from her dream.
She smiled in response and took Meredith’s hand.
Maybe she could believe in time travel a little bit.
*
end
Author:
severuslovesmeSummary: Ok, so she sometimes had visions of the future. So what?
Pairing: Addison/Meredith, minor Addison/Derek and Addison/Mark
Rating: R
Disclaimer: They belong to Shonda, not me.
Original Story: Surprised by
tornyourdressNotes Thanks to my beta!
It's so dreamy, oh fantasy free me//So you can't see me, no not at all//In another dimension, with voyeuristic intention//Well-secluded, I see all//With a bit of a mind flip
//You're there in the time slip//And nothing can ever be the same//You're spaced out on sensation//like you're under sedation//Let's do the Time Warp again! – Time Warp
Addison had read enough paperback fantasy novels – a holdover interest from a youth spent hanging out with the kids who really liked Star Wars – to not be quite as freaked out about it as she thinks she should have been.
Ok, so she sometimes had visions of the future. So what?
Yes, as a scientist she acknowledged that time travel was impossible. The problem of causality alone makes her head spin. The issues of future-you and present-you and past-you all colliding into just you were fine for books where the realities of science could be glossed over. In real life time travel was impossible and that was that.
But the dreams that left her confused until she caught up to the events in her real life, and the flashes she had sometimes that ended up coming true – well, they undermined her belief in the science a little.
She didn’t remember when she’d realized that these weren’t just girlish musings about a future as yet undefined, and rather the clear, unbounded vision of things that would eventually take place. Maybe it was mid-spin at her wedding, when the light swirled over Derek’s smiling face and the feeling that she had seen all this before swept over her. Maybe it was earlier, back when she’d met Derek for the first time and thought that his resemblance to her dream-husband was uncanny. Whenever it was, she vaguely remembered crying.
Some days she wondered if she was losing her mind, if the dreams were a manifestation of her break with reality. Usually on those days she toyed with the idea of telling Derek about her nighttime travels to the future, but she always stopped herself before the words could slip out. Successful surgeons did not inadvertently time travel. It was as simple as that.
The night she met Mark Sloan and recognized him from a dream she wished they really were just hallucinations brought on by stress.
There was some subtle comfort though, she mused years later, in believing that everything was foretold. So kissing Mark, sleeping with Mark, all of this had happened already and really, who could blame her? She was only doing what she’d done already before, only following fate.
Fate that Derek would eventually find neurology patients easier to talk to than her, that cafeteria food would be more appetizing to him than anything she cooked. Fate, and therefore not her fault. A future written and defined before they even met.
By the time she realized that these patterns were written in advance, Derek had found out and moved across the country to escape her. She hoped for another dream, to know what her future would be. Who fate had chosen for her, Mark or Derek.
Addison had plenty of dreams about Mark and Derek, but most of them just involved jerky images and pain, and none told her anything about the future.
So she followed Derek to Seattle, because maybe she should take the future into her own hands, and found him with a face she recognized. A woman from a long ago dream involving Derek and stairwells was standing there smiling up at him. Addison’s heart constricted.
Fate, she chanted over and over again in her head. Fate and not my fault.
She stayed in Seattle, because Derek was prevaricating about the divorce, and when Mark turned up she wondered if maybe fate could have given her just a little warning that this was about to happen. Just a brief time traveling dream that might suggest that things were about to get a whole lot worse than they already were.
Time traveling was small part blessing, big part curse – she wished she had seen what had happened at the prom in a dream, if only to see the truth on Derek’s face.
She wished she had had a premonition of Cristina Yang walking in on her crying in the ladies bathroom on the fourth floor, because that was something she would have avoided if she could have. Avoiding one’s husband’s mistress’s best friends was not a sign of weakness, she told herself. Anyway, that was how this time travel thing worked, obviously. She always got the raw end of the deal, the short end of the stick, insert fatalistic cliché here. Fate was enjoying the chance to fuck with her.
Except then she had a dream about Meredith.
It was a few months after the prom, after she left Derek for real this time and he and Meredith were still playing happy families. She was in her new apartment, which still felt so empty and impersonal despite her belongings strewn around like a normal person lived there.
She was lying there on the big cold bed, when she realized that she was in fact at the hospital. At the hospital in her pink pajamas, and it didn’t feel like she was dreaming. The lights were too bright and her feet were cold on the floor and the things in the room felt solid.
Meredith was standing in the doorway, just looking at her. But not looking at her like she normally did, eyes full of confusion and maybe a flicker of anger. Looking at her like a friend or maybe more, looking at her like she cared about her.
And then there was less looking because Meredith was kissing her and she was kissing Meredith and both of their hands were everywhere. Meredith’s hands were on her breasts and her hands were in Meredith’s hair and it was clearly not the first time they had done this because the hands on her were familiar and competent and sweet. The pale pink polish on rounded nails was chipping off.
Her blood was humming in her veins at the glory of Meredith’s hands on her, where no hands but her own had been for some time. Her brain was sluggishly making an effort to figure out what was going on, but the spikes of pleasure that were sent its way prevented any rational thought from emerging.
Meredith’s pager beeped and Addison woke up in her own bed. Her pajama top was unbuttoned.
Finally, finally fate was working for her.
She felt a smile curve its way over her face when she saw Meredith the next morning, fresh-faced and oblivious to Addison’s prophetic nighttime wanderings. Her smile grew bigger when she saw Derek tagging along behind Meredith, also unaware.
Someday soon Meredith would want her and not Derek, and she nursed that small pleasure deep in her heart while she watched them both dance around each other and together and finally apart.
The end of the world’s most perfect romance was hot hospital gossip for weeks, and Addison got more than her share of questioning glances, as if she could possibly be responsible. Well, she was, just not the way they thought. And she wasn’t, because the future had already happened.
She liked that Derek’s eyes drifted over her more often after the breakup, but she liked the appraising glint in Meredith’s glance even better.
When Addison slid onto the stool next to Meredith’s at Joe’s and felt her leg brush Meredith’s briefly, she felt that for the first time maybe it wasn’t so bad being fate’s prisoner or favorite plaything or whatever.
She bought her a drink and felt the eyes of fellow hospital employees watching them, cataloging their smiles and friendly conversation with wonder. Obviously people expected more catfights and less civility. Well, she’d never been predictable.
Addison felt Derek’s eyes on her and hid a smile.
When Meredith kissed her for the first time she thought ‘at last’ and kissed her back. They were in her apartment and soon in her bedroom, and Meredith’s hands on her body were new but also familiar and the thought made her laugh out loud.
Then they were a Gordian knot of limbs and a tangle of long hair and slim fingers twisting and sliding over skin. Flickering in Addison’s mind were the images from her dream, the on-call room bed merged with the bed they were in now and skin shined in the harsh overhead light and glowed in the soft light of her bedroom.
Weeks slipped by and they met in on-call rooms and very occasionally Addison’s apartment, and Derek was only a shadowy figure on the periphery of her attention. They were prompt to answer pages, and never forgot to lock the door, and somehow the hospital gossip hadn’t caught up with them yet.
One morning she’d had to miss Meredith in the on-call room for an emergency surgery, and found her later with a familiar kind of smile on her face.
Addison’s smile faded and she wondered where Derek had been all day, if maybe he was the reason Meredith looked freshly fucked.
Meredith’s eyes lit up when she saw Addison though, and Addison was startled to recognize the messy ponytail and chipped nail polish from her dream.
She smiled in response and took Meredith’s hand.
Maybe she could believe in time travel a little bit.
end
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