You are not a man of grand gestures. In fact, it would be rare it if happened at all because that's the kind of person you are. But then, there's her: a bundle of awkwardness and earnestness wrapped into one.
She stands in front of you with pleading eyes and clothes still wet from rain. She's saying all the things you wanted to hear when you both were in that place. It takes all of your strength not to leave this bed and wrap her up in your arms.
"You're getting married."
You both know it is not a good enough answer, but for now it's all you've got. She blinks at you, your name dying on her lips. All the courage she summoned to bare her soul is lost as she looks down at the floor. It surprises you that she raises her head again to give this one last try, but is distracted. A familiar figure rushes to your side and buries her face in your chest. Perhaps there are tears there too, but you can't tell. Not that you deserve them anyway. Your eyes are still locked on the redhead at the foot of the bed who suddenly looks so small. She fades away from you and with a blink of an eye, it's like she was never there.
Part of you thinks it's just as well.
It's a while after that Torres thinks you're in the clear, but there's the way she looks at you that makes you think she has something else to say. In the end, she sends you off with cheap pain meds and a tight smile. Now isn't the time.
You're home faster than you expect. Your girlfriend offers to stay with you, but you convince her to make plans for later instead. You're distracted, it won't make sense. You sit on the edge of your bed staring out at the rain. A bottle of whiskey sits on the table at your side untouched. Sometimes you think it's easier just to forget everything for one night. To forget who you are. After the shooting, you found comfort in that. But tonight, you prefer to torture yourself with dreams of what could have been.
Tonight, you chose to think of her.
It's only when you see her the next day that you feel angry. It seeps slowly into your skin and floods your veins. Your heart bears away in your chest and there is a sudden urge to shake her. With a sharp intake of breath, you stiffen and the feeling passes.
The truth is she hurt you. She hurt you in more ways you thought possible. This doesn't happen to you. They called you the lady-killer in college for a reason. Good looks, charm, brains. You are the perfect catch, so it baffles you that you can become undone by a small town girl who no one pays much attention to.
No one except you.
Author's Note: I wrote this a while ago, after 10x02 and that awful moment. I thought that maybe I should write this from Jackson's POV instead of April's. It's not much, but here you go.