Hey readers, thanks a million for all your amazing reviews on my other story.
I'll have an update for that one soon. For now, here's something to restore our hope until September, because we know he's
probably not going to give her a reason.
It start's out smooth sailing, but our ship has a rocky voyage ahead of them.
This will be a multi-chapter story.
Light, (I'll call your name out, darkness)
"Where's Jackson!"
"Right behind us."
"No he's not!"
"Can you see him, is that him behind the bus?"
"Avery!"
"Get back here!"
"Jackson!"
April needs to know he's safe. That's why she shrugs off the concerned hands of her fiance and ignores the orders of her superiors. It's why she runs towards the blazing bus, despite everyone telling her not to.
She's always been a good runner, she's been doing it for 27 years.
The thought that he could be trapped, or injured or not make it out in time is enough for her to abandon any concerns for her own safety. The mere thought that he might not make it is enough for her to not want to either.
"Jackson! Jackson!"
She can see signs of movement behind the bus, but before she can do anything Matthew has pulled her back to him, and the few seconds she diverts her attention to struggling with his grasp, the smoking vehicle explodes sending all of them to the ground.
Life keeps moving, she realizes. It keeps moving, like a storm. All around them there is yelling and screaming, but through all the commotion all she can think of is him. It feels like an out of body experience. It's like she's watching the scene on a television screen, watching herself scream out his name, willing him to be okay.
"Jackson! No! No!"
The raw cry of anguish she lets out reverberates through her entire body, chilling her to the bone. It's an ache that hurts so deep, slicing her open until she's not sure she can even breathe.
He's gone.
All she can think of is the future they'll never have now, the field of wildflowers and white picket fence, and every single thing she's kept inside for the last few months. None of it means anything now. Every one they've loved and lost over the last few years, nothing has ever hurt this much.
It takes thirty seconds, thirty seconds of pure agony where she can barely control her own body, for fear of collapsing in on herself,
for her eyes to adjust to the smoke and the pain and make out a shadow emerging from the smoke.
And then he's there. Walking towards her with the burning inferno behind him, covered in cuts and dirt, carrying a child in his arms.
He's there. He's there, and he's alive.
She wants to cry and run towards him but her body is in shock, still reeling from the potential loss, and her steps falter in their course to reach him.
Does she cry or laugh, what little sound she does make comes out as something in between.
She's vaguely aware of the arms that wrap around her shoulders, but it's not his, and it's contact she can't handle.
"I..I can't." She breathes, pulling away from Matthew's embrace, and moving to one of the gurneys filled with patients.
After the dust and debris settle, and the patients are all inside she finds him sitting on one of the beds, being examined by Callie.
He's shirtless, and in a past time she would have relished the sight but even with the lights out all she can see are the pale pink burns that stand out against his tanned skin, and the bandage wrapped around his right wrist. Reminders of what she'd almost lost.
Anger. That's all she can feel buried beneath the relief, and it's selfish, but she's angry that he could have died.
Her feet move of their own accord and then she's standing there in front of him, her small hands making contact with his skin. She's standing in front of him screaming at him, her hands pushing and pulling at the man in front of her. Needing to touch him, make sure he's real.
"You could have died!"
You could have died. They don't understand, even as Callie wrestles her away from him that's all she can think about.
You could have died. They don't understand.
They'd made a promise, one night after the shooting. In between the six pack of beers they'd shared and the mourning of their best friends, she'd looked at him and made him promise they'd never leave each other. He hadn't laughed at her, like he thought she would, just taken her smaller hand in his and promised. The thought that he'd almost broken that promise was a startling realisation. How close she'd come to losing him to, helplessly, in the same way she'd lost Charles and Reed.
She runs past Matthew out of the room and collapses on to the ground inside the first supply closet she finds, knees shaking as she buries her head between them.
Her hands grab on to a bed pan as her stomach empties itself, heaving until there's nothing left, just the burning in her throat and the heaving of her chest.
April's in aftershock. She doesn't need to be a trained doctor to know it. Her body is still reliving the trauma, hands shaking and heart racing.
If she closes her eyes she can recall every vivid detail as the bus had lit up from the inside scattering chunks of debris, and a shock wave that had sent them all flying.
She reaches for a new scrub top on the shelf in front of her, pulling off her old one as her hand moves to unpin the platinum band she'd placed there earlier for safekeeping, but only comes in contact with wet fabric. How fitting it would be. Lost in the commotion and chaos, like everything else.
She can't help but laugh, the noise sounding strange to her own ears. She can't remember the last time she laughed.
April's not sure how long she stays there, huddled against the metal racks, eyes closed.
Eventually the walls start to feel like they're closing in and she stands up, makes her way out of the closet and back in to the corridor.
The lights are on now, and it only serves to amplify the chaos and destruction around them. Dozens of chairs and beds filled with patients, nurses and doctors running round trying to get to everyone. She should be helping, saving lives, doing what she's trained to, but she can't.
The only thing she concentrate on is Jackson. One of the nurses lets slip what bed he's in.
April know's she's hesitant to give her the information, probably witnessed her outburst earlier but she doesn't pay her any attention.
When she pulls back the curtains he's there, sitting on the bed with his arm in a sling.
"Don't." He says.
"Whatever it is that's bugging you just keep it to yourself, alright."
It's almost ironic, that she normally would. But she can't, it's been building, and building, swimming to the surface for months now and threatening to spill over the surface.
She can't speak, and he's annoyed. She can read it in the expression on his face and the crease in his eyebrows, the way his eyes burn in to hers.
She's never gotten used to being the center of Jackson's attention, never will.
"I want you.. Jackson" She says lightly, testing the words as they fall from her lips, and it's relieving and terrifying at the same time.
"I want.. you." Her voice catches on the last word, and the tears have already begun to fall.
Her body doesn't feel like her own at the moment, and her mouth feels disconnected from her brain, like all of her circuits have been disconnected and refuse to comply with logic. Fail to see the big neon sign saying this is a bad idea.
"April.." Jackson says softly, looking confused.
"I haven't been fair to you, I know, and I've.. I've really hurt you."
"And you're getting married." It comes out in sharp edges and harsh tones, and he has a right to feel that way, she thinks.
"When that bus exploded and I thought you were gone.." She can't even finish, closing her eyes and remembering every single emotion she's gone through, replaying the event in her head over and over.
She presses her mouth to her hand to press the sob back down her throat but it escapes anyway.
"You're getting married." He says again, this time softer, green eyes looking up into hers.
Her feet move closer to the end of the bed, so she's standing next to him, opening herself up.
"Unless you can give me a reason not to."
He doesn't answer, just keeps his gaze on her. Green against brown.
"Give me a reason, Jackson. Just one." She says, almost begging.
"April.." He repeats, and she's too terrified to hear what he'll say so she keeps speaking.
"Because if you don't in a few months I'll marry him, I'll marry an amazing guy that's perfect for me, and we'll have a house and kids, and we'll be the perfect couple, but despite all that every night I'll go to bed wishing it were with you."
"So please Jackson, I'm asking you to give me a reason not to."
"You told me to stop fighting for you, April." He tells her, sounding defeated.
"You said that."
"Because I was scared, Jackson. I was scared of you, and the way you make me feel.. but I'm not anymore. I'm not scared. I know what I want, and it's you. It's always been you."
"And I'll wait, I'll stand here and I'll wait as long as it takes until you're not scared either." She says, and it's the truth.
She'll sit in the chair beside his bed all night, until he answers her.
"But I need you to do this. Because I'm in love with you and I need you to give me a reason."
It's the first time they've ever talked about love, between pregnancy tests, and hotel bathrooms, and the graveyards they could fill between them both, they've always avoided the topic. Too afraid to tiptoe across the line for fear of falling.
The air is heavy, suffocating, between them, and maybe April's the only one that can feel it, but she can, and it's there.
The love. Bright and obvious, she can feel it.
Jackson's silent before he begins to speak, watching her with eyes as green as stained glass.
"Because I don't want you too."
"I don't want you to marry him, or watch you have kids and grow old with him, of course I don't want that. I want you, I've always wanted you. Even when I tried not to."
She doesn't try to fight the tears this time, just lets them fall down her cheeks until they slip to the floor.
Her feet move forward and close the space between them until her mouth is covering his, and his uninjured arm is grasping at her waist.
If she wasn't already in love with him she's sure she'd fall again right here, somewhere in between the way he kisses her with an open mouth and whispers April like she's something really special.
"I love you." She whispers, crying.
"I know." He says, bringing his hand up to wipe the tears from her cheeks and kissing her again.
She pulls back, and looks at him.
"I need to go and.. I need to talk to him, and I have to go back to work, there's so many people that still need help, but I'll come back. To you.. I'll come back" She says, trying not to cry again.
"Okay." He gives her another kiss, this time it's soft, gentle.
"Hey, it's me and you, remember. Now, go save lives."
She stands there for a moment just looking at him, really looking, before she slips back through the curtain and into the chaos.
It takes her six minutes to break off her engagement. Six minutes. Three hundred and sixty six seconds.
She finds Matthew sitting on a chair in the waiting room, head in his hands.
He looks up when she approaches, and it takes everything she has to force a smile on to her face. He doesn't deserve to be hurt like this, but she's no longer the girl that can keep hiding her fears.
"April." He breathes, standing up. "What happened back there? I was worried.."
She's not sure if he's referring to her physical assault in the ER or the fact she tried to run in to a fiery wreckage set to explode, figures it's probably both.
"Matthew we need to talk." She says softly.
"Wait, you dropped this before, outside. It must have been when we were knocked to the ground. I figured you were probably running around everywhere looking for it."
He's too busy reaching into the pocket of his jacket to pay attention to what she'd said, his hand emerging with the sparkling diamond ring. Holding it towards her with an outstretched hand.
It's enough for the tears to start falling again, stinging her already raw eyes.
"You.. you don't want it back." He realizes, and she lets out a sob at the way his shoulders start to slump, his hand faltering in front of her.
"I'm so sorry, Matthew. I.. I can't." She says, shaking her head.
"I rushed you, the proposal.. We can just go back, April. Take it slow.."
She can't answer him. How do you tell the person that had just publicly declared his love for you mere hours ago that you're in love with someone else?
"April, please."
"I'm so sorry, Matthew. I.. I'm so sorry."
"It's him, isn't it. Jackson."
"I didn't.. I never meant to hurt you." She tells him, but she has hurt him. The look in his eyes is pure pain.
Their conversation ends with him turning his back on her and walking back towards the hallway, sparing one last look at her over his shoulder before he disappears from sight.
For April, she spends the next few hours checking on patient after patient, throwing herself into attending to the injured until Hunt finally orders her to get some rest. When she gets back to Jackson's bed she slips through the curtains and turns her gaze on to his sleeping form.
He's in exactly the same place she left him, half naked and propped up on the bed. His eyebrows seem to twitch in sleep, and she can tell by the way he keeps moving restlessly that he's obviously in pain.
She takes a seat on the bed beside him, and reaches a pale hand to gently caress his chest. The skin beneath his bandages is taut, but the scars aren't as red as they had been a few hours ago, no sign of inflammation or infection. Her hands grab the tube on the nightstand and apply the anti-septic cream slowly, gently coating the burns.
"Hey." She jumps at the sound of his voice as his eyes flitter open.
"Hey."
"I didn't mean to wake you, you just looked like you were in you pain."
"It's not so bad now." He tells her, giving her that crooked smile.
"I saw you, you know."
"What?"
"Before the bus exploded. I saw you trying to run towards it, towards me. Most people generally run away from an impending explosion."
"I'm not most people."
"I know. I know you're not." His voice holds that note of tenderness it always has when he speaks to her, and it makes the lump in her throat jump to the surface.
His free hand moves to her face to wipe away a lone tear.
"Hey. Why are you crying?"
"Because I thought I had lost you. You don't understand what those few seconds felt like. I don't ever to feel like that again."
He doesn't say anything to that, just attempts to shift himself over in the bed creating a space beside him for her small body, where she carefully folds herself into him, savouring the warmth of his body.
"I love you." He says. It's simple, just three words. But it's enough. It's what she's been waiting to hear all this time without even knowing it.
"I love you so much, Jackson, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything I've put you through.. I'm so sorry."
"Hey, it's okay. We're going to be okay."
"We're going to be okay." She whispers, carefully nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder, closing her eyes as the exhaustion finally takes over her body.
Stay tuned for another update tomorrow.
