I really have no idea what this is. Sometimes you just have an idea and you have to go with it. Enjoy reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned. All the rights to them and Grey's Anatomy belong to shondaland and ABC.

Her soft eyes followed his every movement from the way his fingers glided over the keyboard to how his jaw clenched tensely.

"Stop staring at me like that," he muttered somehow annoyed his dark eyes never leaving the screen in front of him while his fingers stopped their movements and hovered a few inches above the keys.

"Oh wow, now you're acknowledging my presence," she retorted sarcastically sitting on the drawer across the room her legs dangling and not quite reaching the floor.

"I was never able to concentrate when you were staring at me," he simply responded his voice barely louder than a whisper while he got a distant look his eyes drifting away almost as though he was seeing something from distant days. In a way he was.

There was a small smile tugging on his lips and she laughed almost sounding sincere. Almost.

"You never really seemed to mind it back in college," she whispered in a somewhat teasing way and he was genuinely smirking remembering those days when her gaze was so intense that it burned holes into his skin in way that made him unable to continue with his work.

Suddenly his expression got serious and solemn again, his jaw was back to being tense. "That was different back then."

"How so?" she asked quietly and for the first time in so long he looked at her, really looked at her. He met her gaze with an incredulous expression that made her smile disappear.

"You can't be serious right now."

She shrugged letting her eyes wander through the dark room the only light coming from his computer screen and the little lamp standing on the drawer she was sitting on. "I wish I was."

He sighed looking back to the document he was working on at the moment. His voice was barely there and if she hadn't been intently studying him at the time he mumbled it she might have missed it.

"Me too."

His bag hit the floor with a loud thud as the front door fell into the lock.

"You're already home?" she asked from where she was sitting on the couch in the living room. He purposefully ignored her as he walked past her into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

He looked through its contents for a few moments before closing it and pulling out a bottle of scotch from one of the cabinets.

"I think you've been drinking too much lately," she said disapprovingly suddenly leaning against the door frame. He wasn't surprised. Not anymore.

"So, what are you planning to do against it?" he snaped pouring the amber liquid into a glass and downing all of it in one gulp immediately refilling it.

He heard her sigh in an exhausted manner, one he had heard so many times before, one that he had come to appreciate somehow lately.

He downed the next glass slightly shaking as the liquid burned down his throat filling him with an unmistakable warmth. He closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the feeling as it consumed him making it possible to forget it all for an instant.

"Alcohol isn't a solution," she objected from where she was standing and he couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "You sound like one of those pamphlets our guidance counselor gave us at high school."

"They weren't all that bad," she whispered and he just knew that she was slowly walking towards him although he couldn't hear a sound in the quiet silence that filled the kitchen.

"Sometimes alcohol is a solution. It helps you to pretend and forget for a while." He slowly opened his eyes glancing at her without turning his head. Without a doubt she stood there right beside him almost touching him and if he just pretended hard enough he could feel her touch.

"I'm just afraid that you're destroying yourself," she told him her eyes filled with concern as she gazed at him intensely. She seemed to be doing that a lot recently.

"Don't you think it's too late for that," he shrugged carelessly and chuckled humorlessly his eyes dull and yet spilling with emotion, his words empty albeit so completely heart-breaking.

"Don't you think that maybe I was destroyed long ago and that I'm slowly falling apart every time I have to see you again?" She ducked her head guilty although it wasn't her fault, not really. When she looked back into his eyes she wore a sad expression, one he had barely seen on her. She only shrugged in response unable to find words to say. There was nothing to say, not in a situation like this.

"That's what I thought." The smile he wore felt so fake that it almost hurt but he had been through so much worse pain recently that he couldn't really mind. He took the bottle and his glass from the counter side-stepping her and making his way towards the door.

He was almost gone when he heard her again, her voice echoing through the nothingness that filled the apartment lately.

"Did it ever occur to you..." she stopped suddenly before turning around at the same time he did. She looked so very broken tears glistening in her eyes and her shattered heart visible in her features, "... that maybe I'm not sticking around here for myself but for you."

His breath caught in his throat somewhere between his lungs and his mouth and if it hadn't before his heart would shatter now like hers did.

"I don't even know what you're trying to tell me," he mumbled the alcohol flowing freely through his system as he swirled the remaining liquid in the bottle.

"I'm pretty sure that you won't get it anyway in your state." It sounded accusing and her expression was dispraising. He giggled like a little boy in response chugging down the last drops and disposing the bottle on the floor.

"You never liked it when I got drunk," he slurred and she looked so pissed in that moment that it was almost hot. "I always thought that you were cute when you got drunk."

"Jackson, go to bed," she all but whined but even in his state he could detect that the concern was still genuine no matter what they went through, no matter what had happened to her.

"Only if you come with me." It was supposed to come off as a joke but the way his voice broke betrayed him.

"It doesn't work that way and you know that." She was longing to fulfill his request but sometimes there were obstacles you just couldn't overcome even if you tried everything. And she had tried so, so hard.

"Honestly, I have no idea how any of this works. I know; shocking!" The way his arms flailed around him and how his eyes grew wide in that mocking way she hated, had always hated, made it painfully clear how much he was really hurting.

She laid beside him that night. Featherlight on the covers not creating an imprint. She didn't sleep simply watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, listening to his soft snores and relishing in his unmistakable scent.

He watched her as she starred at the screen, the dazzling light illuminating her skin in a haunting way creating an eerie image. He was unable to look away from her, he never had been but sometimes he had to force himself to because he wouldn't survive it any other way.

She laughed at something they said in the show they watched, he really had no idea what it was that they were watching. He was too distracted by her.

"What you said the other day, that you're unable to concentrate when I'm starring at you... well, that works both ways," she suddenly spoke her voice light and almost flowing through the mild air of that sunny afternoon. She didn't face him as she talked instead focused on what was happening on the screen and he was in a way glad that she didn't meet his gaze. He wasn't sure what he would do if she did.

"Why would you need to concentrate? We're watching mindless TV," he retorted but not mean or anything. It was simply a statement, an observation that he shared with her.

Her shoulders rose and fell her nose scrunching up slightly in that way he had always adored, that had made him fall in love with her in some extent.

"It still irritates me."

"I have to use every chance I get to memorize you since it sounded as though you'll disappear once you've finished whatever mission you're on."

She sighed in that exhausted way that made him annoyed and guilty all the same. There was one thing that had notable changed since it had happened; she was much quieter, she didn't talk as much, didn't ramble as much.

"What is that anyway?" If she wasn't going to then he would fill the silence.

Once again she chose gestures instead of words as she shrugged still not looking at him. "You said that you're sticking around for me," he pressed on. He wouldn't be satisfied with her silence and sudden refusal to talk.

Finally she met his gaze and he could instantaneously make out the concern in her eyes. But there was something that was even more prominent in her look, something he knew all too well from all those years of seeing it every time he looked into her eyes; it was love.

"I just think that you're alone right now. That you're separating yourself from life."

"What gave you the idea?" he bit out sarcastically. He really didn't want to have this talk right now or ever.

"Oh, I don't know," she retorted just as sarcastically. If he wanted to do this that way she was more than willing to comply. She nudged her head towards the empty bottle that was still lying on the floor from the night before and even though he was aware that she had been with him when he had downed its content he still felt caught.

"I don't need to do this," he sighed as he pushed himself up from the soft cushions. She had selected the couch, naturally. "I'll be in the office working." He had no idea why he informed her about that; maybe it was a habit and old habits die hard or something.

He walked around the couch and disappeared into the hallway but not without calling after her. "Just let me know when you want to watch something else and need someone to switch the channels."

Her full voice vibrated through the empty hallway causing him to stop in his tracks. "I will."

"Maybe you should call Alex. Invite him and have a fun evening or something," she suggested from where she was sitting on the counter while he was cooking dinner. This whole situation felt way too domestic like it was still normal for them to do this when it wasn't. "maybe Owen too."

"That guy is battling his own demons... or should I say ghosts," he added and he found himself becoming more and more sarcastic as the days went on. Maybe bitterness did that to you.

She ignored his comment which was probably better for both of them. "You could call Cristina and Meredith too. I'm sure that they would love to spend an evening together."

"What about you? Don't you want to have a 'fun evening' with Charles and Reed?" He saw the hurt flitting over her face when he mentioned their college friends who died too early before they had had the chance to really life. He was aware that he was playing dirty but he was tired of this and he wasn't even sure what this was.

He had never been a fan of the supernatural, he wasn't really a believer but lately there had been to much evidence pointing to the fact that it did exist in a way.

Apparently she wasn't going to let him get away with something like that. "Trust me, I'll be joining them soon." She saw how he physically flinched at that jab although he tried to cover it.

She didn't want to do this, to be like this but she didn't feel like she had a choice. Some people needed to be forced into their luck and Jackson had always been one of them.

"Call Alex."

In the end he did call Alex and Meredith and Cristina. They all came over and they got wasted together. It was a nice evening and they all avoided the big elephant in the room.

Little did the tree know that she had been sitting right beside them the whole time.

That night it was confirmed to Jackson that he was the only one who could see her. He couldn't say that he was surprised.

"You need a little more sugar." They were baking which basically meant that she was giving him orders since he couldn't bake and she couldn't grasp anything.

He obeyed without hesitation adding the white powder to their mix. Somehow he was more and more comfortable with their weird living arrangement mainly because his alternative was a life without her and he wasn't sure if he would be able to cope with the even larger hole that her permanent departure would leave in its wake.

"You know that evening was only the first step," she mentioned randomly as though she was giving him the next order.

"What do you mean?" he asked although he wasn't really paying attention concentrated on mixing the ingredients. He was a perfectionist, always had been.

"You need to get back into life. You're hiding in your apartment baking with a ghost for God's sake."

He rolled his eyes at her because he was very well aware of how weird that was, she didn't need to point that out. She could practically feel his disagreement which was why she continued. "Jackson, I can't watch you as you become this person. You need to get your life back."

He slammed his hand flat against the counter in a sudden outburst startling her. He was breathing heavy, the sounds bouncing off the walls of the small room coming back to her. He was staring straight ahead and he never looked more frustrated but she wasn't scared. She would never be scared of him.

"I can't get my life back because my life included a loving wife and that doesn't work anymore because you're dead if you haven't noticed! You died because some freaking idiot couldn't see the difference between red and green!" he suddenly yelled at her, hot tears brimming in his eyes as he stared at her breathless. The shards of his heart were somewhere strewn across the floor mixed with the pieces of the facade he had build up in the last months.

"Hey, it's okay," she whispered moving closer to him and there hadn't been a moment where she had wished more that she could touch him.

"You're dead. How is any of this okay?" he asked her broken.

"It's not," she smiled sadly reaching out to him and cupping his cheek. When he closed his eyes he could pretend that he was actually feeling her touch, "It's not okay but it will be. Someday you'll be okay."

He was lying on his side in the darkness of the night lost in her eyes as she was facing him on their bed, his bed. He could spend eternities like this.

"It doesn't feel fair," he hated to break their comfortable silence but he needed to get it off his chest and this time might have been as good as anytime, "It was supposed to be us for the rest of your lives. And now I have to start over and I feel guilty complaining about that because you don't even get the chance to start over."

There was that brave smile again that he admired so much because it displayed the strength she actually had. But right now he would give everything to replace it.

"I still believe that God has a plan, you know." It seemed hard to believe for him at that time but he knew how important her religion was to her so he let her talk. "Maybe we weren't supposed to be forever. We got wonderful years together, so many moments that I'll cherish forever but my time was up and I won't believe that you're meant to spend the rest of your life alone."

He listened to her words carefully well aware that she had been holding them back for a while now waiting until he was ready to hear them. Even now it was hard for him to make sense of what she was saying and not because he didn't understand what she was trying to get across but simply because it didn't seem right to him. Why would God lead him to this wonderful woman who he loved more than anything on this planet only to take her away from him before they could really start their future?

But somehow he couldn't put any of that into words so he simply nodded letting her know that he understood.

And he did, he just wasn't okay with what it meant.

"I have a date."

Her eyes light up a bit and there was a sincere smile slowly spreading across her features. This definitely wasn't the reaction he expected from her.

"Who is it?" she asked almost sounding excited. He felt as though the universe was playing a trick on him. He hadn't tried to make her jealous or anything, he just didn't expect her to be so thrilled about her husband having a date with another woman either.

"This girl from the coffee shop down the street. I don't think you know her. She only started working there a month ago or so," he told her baffled and overwhelmed by the whole situation. "I'm not sure how it happened. I knew that she was flirting with me for a while now and today she suddenly asked me whether I wanted to go to this new restaurant with her. Before I knew what was happening I said yes."

Her smile got even bigger and it started to freak him out. "That's great, Jackson."

"How are you so freaking happy about this?" he finally snapped and only then did he notice the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes.

"I just want you to be happy and that won't happen if you're hung up on me forever," she simply said smiling while tears ran down her face. He wished that he could wipe them away but they were both aware that that wasn't possible. Not anymore.

"I don't even know if it's really a date," he mumbled not sure what to say or to do. There had never been a pamphlet on what to do when you tell the ghost of your dead wife that you're going out with someone else, someone new.

"That doesn't matter. You thought that it was one when you said yes. Which means that you're finally moving on."

"Don't you think it's too early to say that? I mean I won't marry her right away of anything."

She sighed sadly, exhausted, tired. "Jackson, it's been almost a year."

"I know." He knew. He was well aware that it had been almost year. It would be a year in two weeks, four days, three hours and twenty-seven minutes. "What does that mean for us? For you?"

She sent him a questioning look in response and he shrugged helplessly. "You've completed your mission I guess."

She nodded and there was something new in her look, something he couldn't define. "Let's go to bed."

He studied her for a long moment like he had so many times before in the last almost year, like he had done before. He looked into her beautiful eyes, admired her features. "And tomorrow?"

She tilted her head a bit, "We'll see."

He was surprised when he found that he wasn't afraid of tomorrow.

When he woke up the next morning the other side of the bed was empty and not just physically empty but ghost-empty.

He got up slowly, a foreign feeling settling in his chest. It was almost like in one of the movies or TV shows when he reached the living room. The door to the balcony stood open a slight breeze coming through it. The early morning sun illuminated the room. One beacon was especially bright and it seemed to sparkle as it hit the surface of the couch table. He then noticed the photo album resting on it. He couldn't recall putting it there but it must have been him, right?

Carefully as though the would disturb the eerie atmosphere if he moved too fast he walked further into the room and sat down on the couch. The album was open showing a photo of April and him from their wedding day.

Her smile looked as though it could break her face into two halves and his grin matched hers. They were so close that it was hard to tell where she began and he ended both of them looking so happy and at peace.

A small smile crossed his features as he remembered that day but it was different from all those other times he had looked at the album in the wake of the disaster. This time it wasn't filled with regret and a lost future. In fact he felt at peace, nearly as much as in the picture.

Suddenly a strong breeze blew through the door effectively closing the lid of the album. For a moment there was an almost familiar scent as the breeze enveloped him in a warm embrace.

And then it was gone.

So what did you think? When did you figure out that she was a ghost? It would be great you could leave me your thoughts!