No prompt. This is just an April/sort of Jackson grieving scene that came to me. As usual, I have no idea where this came from. I mean, my mind...but. This is the last one that was published on Tumblr. All the others will be published on here. I think the writers are hella confused when it comes to Jackson and Catherine's relationship. It's a complex one but...I don't really think that after 11x11 he'd push her away quite as fiercely as he seems to be doing. Anyway this was written before 11x12. Let me know what you think, please.


"This started after the funeral?" Catherine Avery eyed her son, concerned.

"Yes Ma, I told you. She called Karen in the morning and the rest of the day she was like a robot, no emotion through the whole thing…you saw. And then we came home and…she just…she broke. She just, screams, cries, hardly says anything coherent. I guess I expected this at some point but she's been…we were trying to…we were…..I thought we'd be…I don't even know mom. But now…she's broken."

"And you haven't called, why haven you called? You know I'm here staying with Richard," she looked up and squeezed the man's hand. They had their own struggles to get through eventually, but he had been there for her through all of this. She hadn't expected to need someone, but he'd been there.

"I don't know mom. I didn't even think to…I thought that maybe I could…but I don't know how to…I don't know what to…" She put her hand over her son's to stop him from speaking.

"So, three days. In bed. No real food, just broth. Water at least, Jackson?" He threw up his hands in frustration, on the brink of tears.

"I try. Maybe once a day. I don't know. I just…I want to get…I don't want to take her to the hospital…I just want to get..." He looked down and swallowed hard, summoning…something. He looked up at his mother again, tears in his eyes. "I have to get the…I want to get the nursery down. I…I feel cruel but, there's no…I can't give her the choice to do it with me, or wait. It…it might cause a fight later but…she didn't want the crib anyway so I just…" He looked away from his mom and Webber again, wiping away actual tears. "Thanks for…coming to help do it faster I…" Richard nodded, and Jackson knew he didn't have to say anymore. "But mom please just…"

"Go into bed and spoon with your wife while you do it. I know, I know and I will baby."

"Hurry because if she wakes up and no one's there…I don't even know how she'll react with you there. Maybe I should just…and you and Richard should…"

"Absolutely not. Three days in bed, Jackson? I mean have you gotten up to shower or eat or…"

"I can get her to go to the bathroom. But she hasn't showered. She just waits for me. It takes me two minutes. And once I'm sure she's asleep I can go eat. I try to get her to but…she hardly talks. I mean…she'll say…'He squeezed my finger,' or sometimes 'I was a good mommy,' or 'you were a good daddy.' 'I want my baby,' or sometimes…she says something about heaven, 'My baby's in heaven.' She screams that one sometimes. At night I don't…"

Her son seemed together, on the outside. He seemed all right. A very concerned husband trying to keep it together for his grieving wife. But Catherine Avery knew better. His speech was frantic, eyes darting all over the place. She had a sudden flashback to Jason that would've frightened her under any other circumstances. She put her hand up to quiet him again. "All right Jackson. All right. I'm going in there to hold your wife. You shower, and eat and then go help Richard with the nursery."

"Hold her tight. Really, really tight. And rock her. She likes the motion. And answer her back, everything she says. And talk…keep talking or…"

"Shhh Jackson…I've got it. Go take care of yourself for a few hours. I'm going to go try to get her up to eat. Don't worry about her, for just a little bit." Catherine kissed her son's cheek. She was proud to know the last suggestion she made was impossible for him. She had never seen anyone as in love as Jackson was with April, and vice versa actually. Poor April was in a pretty intense stage of grief, it was impossible for her to support Jackson right now. But she was clinging to him for dear life, that was for sure. And Catherine knew her poor son was trying so hard to be enough, to pull his wife through on his own. But this wasn't something to handle alone.

"All right missy, just me and you," Catherine said, taking off her shoes and climbing into her son's side of the bed. April looked so much like a child it broke her heart heart. She'd always known her daughter-in-law to be fragile and even emotional. But she'd never exactly seen the girl break. April had a feisty side that endeared Catherine to her. Though they were so different, they had similar strengths. Even on that day in the consult room, when Catherine suggested the plan for Samuel's birth, April didn't look as lost, as beaten…even then, she hadn't broken yet.

Catherine wrapped her arms around April tightly, just as Jackson had instructed, and began rocking her back and forth. It did seem to calm her, but it also woke her from her sleep. "Jackson," she whispered.

"No sweetheart, it's Catherine. Jackson…he went to…he went to do some things but he's in the house, he's here. He's right here if you really need him. But am I alright for now?"

"He was a good daddy." Catherine was a little bit startled by that answer. She had expected to deal with a devastated April, but she'd forgotten that Jackson had used the word robotic.

"He was, April. And you were a good mommy, I'm sure of it." She hadn't actually met the child. No one should intrude on parents' time with a baby when it is that short, in her opinion.

"Samuel is in heaven. My baby is in heaven."

Catherine sighed quietly. "Of course, Dear. There's a special place in heaven for little babies gone too soon." She didn't add "if." If there was a heaven. Religion was a pretty prominent theme in her son's household right now, she guessed. She knew his beliefs, or lack thereof, hadn't changed. But it comforted his wife, so she imagined he was not opposed to opening up a Bible and reading a random page out loud lately. "He's waiting for you and Jackson and…" She paused, thinking it best not to mention the brothers or sisters she hoped they'd find the strength to raise eventually. "He's waiting."

"HE'S WITH GOD, HE'S NOT STUCK." April started screaming and sobbing. Catherine rocked April faster. She kissed the back of her neck, brushing her hair aside.

"Of course he is, of course. April, relax sweetheart. Relax. Breathe. Deep breaths." She demonstrated, but the sobs continued. Then something dawned her. She was sure Jackson was not pushing April to get past this, not asking questions. He'd said this particular state had begun after Samuel's funeral, after she had spoken to Karen.

Karen. Just thinking the woman's name made Catherine shutter with disgust, and they had never even met. But…what good woman left their child mid-crisis just because they made a decision she didn't agree with? What good mother purposefully missed their grandchild's funeral? What good person encouraged their child to bend to "God's" will, no matter the suffering it caused? Whatever God Karen believed in was not one Catherine was willing to know. But the faith her daughter-in-law was leaning on these days was a different kind.

April's screams brought Catherine back into the present. "WE'RE NOT GOING TO HELL."

"Shh, shh no. Of course not, April. You have to talk to me, love. Who told you that? Who told you those lies? Come on…I know you're in there, sweetheart. Talk to me. Who lied to you, like that?"

"M-M-M-MOM. AND FATHER EDWARD." Catherine was livid. This is why she hated religion. It was really the only social construct that encouraged parents to condemn their children for making difficult decisions and in some cases punish them for simply being who they were.

Catherine turned April's face toward her, forcing her to really listen and focus for the first time in days. "Look at me, April. You listen to me." She waited until there was a little bit more life in the young woman's eyes. Something in April's subconscious had woken up, at Catherine's urging. "You made the most selfless decision a mother can make. You spared Samuel months of pain. You chose to allow him to get to heaven sooner, even though you knew it would cause you pain. You chose your son over everything else and for that, you and my son are going to heaven. And when you do, the first person both of you will see is your son. You believe that. I know that's what you believe, right?"

"Y-y-y-y-y-yes." It was just a whisper but she startled herself, apparently aware of her own speech for the first time in awhile.

"OK, so you don't let anyone tell you differently. You hold on to that belief, just as hard as you hold on to all your other ones. You don't let anyone tell you differently."

"Sh-sh-she won't st-st-st-op saying I de-de-def-ied God's will." April started sobbing again, but she was holding a coherent conversation.

"You don't have to listen to that, sweetheart. You don't have to pick up the phone. You can refuse to allow negativity like that in your life. You have enough to deal with right now." She kissed April's forehead. This conversation was breaking Catherine's heart more than it already was.

She hadn't realized how alone April must have been before Jackson. She was sensitive, didn't make friends easily. Before Jackson, all she had, really, were the Kepners and whatever weird breed of religion they practiced.

When April began falling in love with Jackson, perhaps even way back in San Francisco, her feelings for him caused her to question and modify her faith. But as her beliefs changed, Catherine thought, she must've isolated herself from her family some. And now, because she made the decision that was best for her family, she only had Averys to lean on. Yet, she didn't even share their last name.

At the beginning of the marriage, Catherine preferred it that way. She'd be lying if she said she thought it would last. But now, she had no doubt about April's intentions and felt horrible for questioning them. She wanted to make sure her daughter-in-law felt completely accepted.

"April, sweetheart. How about one day soon we go get your name changed? And we can fix it on all the…the documents." It was soon, but it had to be said. "Wouldn't that be nice, to share your name with Samuel?"

This wasn't about pushing April away from the Kepners. At the time when she needed them the most, they were the ones pushing her away. And if one day April could forgive, that was her choice. But Catherine was sure as hell going to make sure she felt fully accepted in Jackson's family.

"Y-yeah that'd be nice," April tried to wipe away some tears, but then as suddenly as they'd calmed down they started again.

"Shh. Shhh. I'm sorry April. I'm sorry I brought that up. I just….we need another female Dr. Avery in the family and I just…" You should share a name with your son. Catherine wiped tears from her own eyes and started rocking April again.

"I WANT MY BABY!"

"Oh…I know. I know love. I want him here, too. Shhh! I know…"

Jackson peeked his head in the room, and eyed his mom, questioning. Catherine just shrugged, but she had improved the situation. At least she'd gotten to the root of the trigger, and gotten April to be somewhat coherent for a few minutes.

Jackson looked drained as he walked over to the bed. Taking down the nursery had obviously taken a toll on him that Catherine didn't want to ignore while she was there. "I love you. But you have to shower, come on. I'll help you, even," he picked his wife up abruptly, startling her a little bit.

"Jackson Harper, be gentle and patient," Catherine whispered, feeling the need to remind her son. She knew he would be, that he wasn't angry with April. But his mood had certainly shifted from when she'd first arrived.

"It's done, pretty much. That man works fast when he's focused." Richard yawned, walking in the room.

"What happened?" Catherine probed, motioning for him to go back into the hallway and toward the kitchen.

"Well…I mean, that must have been difficult, the whole process. I did the crib but then…" Catherine urged Richard to go on, impatient. "He found pairs of matching Nikes she bought them…before they knew…well…anything. And I think he snapped a little bit. I don't know…he's not exactly…well…I'm not his father, Catherine. I'm not the one that can help him."

"Well, what'd he do with them?"

"I think he kept them. There was a card with them. Everything else he wants to donate but maybe she really should eventually go through that stuff, Catherine. When she's stronger. There might be things she wants to…"

"Keep? To remind her of the time her first son had a fatal disease that killed him one hour after birth and her family essentially disowned her for choosing to have an induction termination to ease his suffering? Great idea, Richard."

Catherine had been trying to be strong, but alone with Richard, something in her finally broke. She hated watching her family suffer so much, especially because it was impossible to fix anything. No children deserved this. She was not a crier, but when the true magnitude of her son and daughter-in-law's pain hit her, she burst into tears.


"See, don't you feel better all clean, sweetie?" Jackson asked April when he'd finished helping her shower and dress in new pajamas. His mother had helped, before. April was at least a little bit more alert. But she just shrugged.

He got in bed and wrapped himself tightly around her, assuming their usual position lately. "April…let's get up and go eat something, OK? Toast or…" She didn't answer, staring straight ahead. "April, if you don't eat soon, I'm gonna take you back to work and get you on an IV or…something."

"My baby died there." He sighed, frustrated they were back to the robot, even if she wasn't screaming in agony.

"I know. My son died there, too." He didn't say it out of malice. He just, understood that she was trying to express unwillingness to go back there right now. He could relate. "I don't want to go back yet, either. So will you please eat?" Silence. He sighed. "Hey April, can I have a kiss? I could really use a kiss right now." Every day since Samuel's death he checked to see if she was ready to show affection. And every day, she ignored his request. He didn't bother to tell her he really meant it today, because he'd found the Nikes while taking down the nursery.

Jackson rubbed his temples and fought back tears, frustrated. He knew his own kisses comforted her, even though she couldn't reciprocate. He'd never deny her them, even though she wasn't actually asking for them. Samuel had been dead for five days, and each day that passed, it seemed April's grief got worse.

He knew this pain they were both feeling wasn't the kind that went away quickly. But the fact that whatever he was tried to do to help her only made her worse was staring to make him literally crazy.

Richard Webber poked his head into the room. "Jackson, your mother would really like to…to take you out for awhile. If you…well, she'd really like you to go. I'll lay with April."

Jackson looked at the older man, a little uncertain. Taking down the nursery really had drained him. And he was beginning to go a little stir crazy. The thought of incessantly rocking his wife to sleep all night, yet again exhausted him. Maybe it was finally time to take his mom's help without a fight.

He kissed the back of April's neck. "I love you. I'll be back," he whispered, before getting up. He eyed Richard, still not quite sure of his choice. "Hold her tight and…"

"Rock her. I know, son. I'll see if I can get her to eat, too. Go. It's OK to need someone, too, Jackson." Jackson just rolled his eyes and smirked before he left. He'd never done well with father figures, and he doubted Webber would be the one to get April to start eating.


Richard felt awkward ignoring April. He felt awkward being this close to a former employee, rocking her in his arms. But Catherine had asked him to do it, knowing Jackson wouldn't think of leaving the house otherwise. And April was mourning her infant son, who'd lived for just less than an hour. Richard could push through the awkwardness, for the Averys.

He noticed the Bible on April's side of the bed. "Does Jackson read you from the Bible, April? Does he know what to read, even?" Richard chuckled, but really did feel bad for April, thinking of Jackson fumbling to any page of the Bible, trying to find comforting words.

"Jackson was a good daddy," was her only reply.

"I know he was, dear. I read the Bible, April. I believe in God. Would you like to pray with me?" Though both Jackson and Catherine had gotten softer about their thoughts on faith, since this tragedy, Richard could imagine it was still difficult for April to pray in front of her husband, knowing that he had mocked her in the past.

"God has my Samuel."

"I know, April. Are you angry? Do you not want to pray?" He never stopped rocking her, just as he promised Jackson.

"Sometimes I'm angry. Don't want to pray."

"That's fine, we don't have to pray." Richard considered it a victory she was answering him back. He decided to be bold. "You know what Adele used to do when…"

"When her baby boy died?" April Kepner didn't have a sarcastic bone in her body lately. She only resorted to it to deal with her husband, when necessary. Even if she did, she was in no state to mess with sarcasm right now. It was just the stoic question her brain decided to ask.

"Well, actually yes. She…she did miscarry a baby boy."

That got April's attention. "Your baby boy is in heaven, too?"

"Yes, April. I suppose he's there with her. With Adele." Under any other circumstances, he'd have said no. He never had time to get attached to the child.

"What did she do?" April was suddenly a little bit more alert.

"Adele used to cook when she was grieving. She would follow recipes directly from cookbooks exactly. Because they were telling her what steps to take, what to do. Whenever she felt life to be too overwhelming, she'd follow a recipe. Or five. Or ten. Or however many she needed to before she thought of the next step to take in life."

April's face brightened. Richard saw a little bit of hope. He wished Jackson and Catherine were there to see it. "Can…Can I try that?" She was honestly asking permission. The poor girl was that lost.

"Yes. Of course April, let's go find something to make." He let go of her, and she actually slid out of bed on her own will.

"Not from Mom's books. I don't want to use those," she said, resolutely, walking down the hallway. From her tone, it struck Richard just how desperate she was, how fragile. Jackson Avery was a very patient man.

"Okay."

"Mom says I'm going to hell and my baby's not in heaven, because I love Jackson."

"Well, she's wrong April."

"I know. I'm going to change my name finally. So it's the same as my…" she stopped mid thought, catching her breath. But she just wiped a tear from her eye and turned to look at her cookbook shelf. "I don't know what food we have." Her eyes widened and she began to panic.

It was only then that Richard remembered. He sent up a prayer of thanks to Adele, and baby Samuel too. He didn't usually make sure to leave the house with a cookbook. But something had told him to grab one, today. Or someone.

"It's alright April, you have stuff for chicken soup. Catherine was going to make some, but then Jackson needed to…And I have Adele's favorite cookbook with me. Comfort foods. Something told me to bring it, today." April nodded. It wasn't a smile, but it was a start.


"Hey, we're home…" Jackson burst through the door and straight into the bedroom. He hoped a chicken sandwich would spark April's appetite, so he brought one home. His best friend, the woman he fell in love with, had a weird obsession with chicken. And he knew she was in there somewhere. "Richard, where is…" His eyes darted around in panic as he walked toward the kitchen, but then he saw her, and relaxed. He dared to even smile as he ran to her, throwing the bag of food on the counter. "Sweetie you're…I'm sorry I was gone…you're up and…hi April." He wrapped her in his arms but she did not hug back. "I missed you so much."

"It's time to eat, Jackson. Richard and I made chicken soup."

"You did? Really?" He kissed her forehead. He'd take robotic conversation for weeks, as long as she got out of bed.

"Yes. Sit down. It's time to eat."

"Ok April, let's eat." He didn't bother to mention the filet mignon his mother had bought him for dinner. Or, the bottle of red wine they shared as he tried to work through finding the Nikes. And the card. That card. Written when she was full of such joy and hope, so excited for their future. When she thought she'd be a mommy. Somehow, he didn't cry.

"Adele lost a baby boy, too. And Richard." April said, when they were all sitting down at the table.

Catherine and Richard were both sneaking portions of April's soup into Richard's bowl when she wasn't looking. It was delicious, but Catherine didn't have the stomach for it after a steak dinner. Jackson, driven by pure devotion it seemed, was swallowing every bite, ad beaming with pride as he watched his wife eat.

"They did?" Jackson inquired, eyeing his mother and her…whatever Richard was to her, questioning.

Richard cleared his throat. "Yes. Yes. She…she miscarried."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Jackson nodded at the older man, acknowledging the assumed struggle.

Richard waved him away. "It's…different…it was…it was harder for her…I…"

"But Adele followed recipes. I'm gonna do that, Jackson."

"Ok, April. OK." He kissed her forehead again, brushing the hair out of her eyes, and looked over at Richard, confused.

"Whenever there was a…a loss…" He whispered the word, afraid of the trigger. April had actually made more progress than he was expecting, while they were cooking. He was petrified something would go wrong, that they wouldn't have an ingredient in the house, and April would break down. But thankfully they had everything. And she was keeping herself together for now. "Adele would cook. She'd follow a cookbook's every detail, because it was telling her what to do. She found it easy to follow those instructions, even if it meant leftovers for days afterward and a lot of grocery store trips," Richard chuckled.

"Oh, that's nothing." Jackson would buy out all the local grocery stores right now if it would make his wife happy.

"I didn't use mama's cookbooks, I used Adele's. Because Richard thought to bring it. He said maybe she's with me today."

"Maybe, sweetheart."

"Show Jackson what else you did, April. While we were waiting for the soup to finish?"

"Oh, I wrote a list of…things to do tonight. To…to help me."

"Oh, let me see, ba…honey." Jackson was careful about even his nicknames, lately. She'd always been "babe," but that was almost "baby," and then there might be anxiety. He was trying to get comfortable with "sweetheart" and "honey" but they felt weird in the air.

She slid the list over to him, and even though it was progress, it shattered him. Though some semblance of April's handwriting was in there, it was messier than usual. But that was easy to get over compared to what the list said. It started off with every minute detail of making the chicken noodle soup. And then it went into setting the table, in painful detail. "Put bowls in the middle of the table," "Take spoons from drawer, place spoons on the right."

But that was nothing. He could've handled it if she'd written down instructions on how to set a table. Family dinners were always important to her, even though it was just the two of them. He'd be alarmed if she'd written the steps wrong. But she hadn't.

What killed him most came after "eat dinner" and "clear table." She'd written out specific conversations to have "Tell Jackson about name." The name change his mom had mentioned, no doubt. She couldn't just put "talk" yet. In order to bare conversation, she had to remind herself of specific subject matter. It broke his heart just a little bit more than the past five days already had.

He swallowed his pain audibly. "Nice, April."

She nodded. "So I…so maybe I won't be afraid to…" Then she shook her head back and forth wildly, like a child, dismissing her thought.

"What are you afraid of, sweetie? I want to help you."

"No. No," she bushed a tear away, and ripped the list from Jackson's hands. "Clear the table…I…I have to clear the table now." She said to the room, after reading the list.

"April, honey. Why don't you skip that part. I'll do that for you. What's after that?" Catherine probed gently.

"NO! I…I have to follow the list," she said abruptly, getting up.

"I suppose we're leaving when she's done," Catherine said when April was out of earshot and she read the list. After "clear the table" but before "tell Jackson about name" came "Hug Catherine and Richard goodbye."

"Mom," Jackson shot Catherine a version of the look they'd shared six days ago, when this nightmare had actively begun. It was only slightly less lost.

"It is progress, Jackson. Just follow the lists with her, for a…a day or two. See if she'll fit things in. A visit with me or, an ice cream sundae or…"

"Mom, I don't think…"

"Just try, baby. Feel her out. None of us know how to…we're all just doing our best. But call me. I'm here for both of you until you tell me you don't need me…you understand?"

Jackson just nodded silently, and watched his wife clear the last bowl from the table. "OK, it's time for Catherine and Richard to go now, Jackson. It's late."

"OK, April."

"You are doing your best. I love you. I'm proud of you, and I wish I could take all of your pain away." Catherine said the same thing to both children when she hugged them goodnight. It was all she could think to say.

"Jackson. I'm going to change my name so it's the same as Samuel's, always. For work too…if I…" April said when they left, quickly moving on to the next item on her list.

"Really?" Jackson feigned surprise. "I think that's a great idea sweetheart."

"I don't want my name to be theirs anymore. I'll miss my daddy but…" April let her sentence hang in the air.

"I know. I know. When would you like to go do that? I have to figure out how to go about it…but we will."

"Not tomorrow. Not on the list."

"OK."

April looked down at her piece of paper again. Then she looked up, face blank, and walked over to where Jackson was sitting on the couch. She kissed him on the lips, sort of showing affection for the first time since their son had died.

Jackson smiled, but he'd been dreading this part ever since he'd seen it on the list. "Kiss Jackson" was written exactly five times in a row. He was definitely happy to receive the first kiss. He only dreaded this because he knew he'd have to interrupt her before she went in for the second one.

"Thank you for the kiss, April. I'm happy you can give me one, today."

April nodded and interrupted him. "Five, see? I owe you five kisses."

"You don't owe me any kisses, love."

"Yes. So many more, too. But I only keep track when you ask."

"Oh April," Jackson whispered. "You don't owe me any kisses from any of those days, sweetie. You can kiss me or not kiss me for as long as you want to, April."

"But I want to. Today, I want to give you five kisses. I love you. I remember you asked, and it wasn't nice of me to ignore you. I don't think I did it on purpose."

"You didn't, April. OK, four more kisses, go ahead."

He let her peck him four more times. Emotionless, careful, scared kisses. He was so happy she was able to give even just those. But they felt strange. And for five days, he'd been hoping that even in her melted down state, through rivers of tears, he'd just been hoping that she'd be able to give him one kiss that felt familiar.

If she just remembered how they used to kiss, Jackson thought he might not feel so alone. Then he got an idea.

He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the table and scribbled quickly. "Hey April, can it be my turn now? There's just one thing on my list. Can I do it?"

April bit her lip, considering, and nodded reluctantly. "I'm going to kiss you now," he warned, showing her his piece of paper.

She gasped in anticipation, but didn't object. So Jackson leaned in and kissed his wife. He'd tried it every day, for five days. But maybe it was the fact that she'd gotten out of bed willingly today. Or maybe cooking actually helped. Because this time, April's lips parted and she allowed his tongue in for a whole second before she pulled away, panic on her face.

She suddenly burst into messy sobs again. "Why'd y-y-y-y-ou d-d-d-d-d-dooo that?" she asked, but something in her eyes had changed. She was sobbing and shaking again. But she had woken up. "OUR BABY. I WANT OUR BABY BOY…"

"I know. I know. Me too. It hurts so much. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're in so much pain, love. I am too. I am too." She nodded, acknowledging his words and feelings, truly registering them, for the first time in days. And so he let a few tears fall from his eyes. Because it was April. She was in front of him. She was falling apart, but she was there.

April wiped her husband's tears away, even while hers kept falling. She looked down at her list, but she hadn't gotten any father than the kisses. "What do we do now?" she asked, earnestly, searching his eyes for the answer.

Jackson took a deep breath, composing himself. "We could wash up for bed."

She nodded. "Okay."

"And then I can hold you really tight, and rock you to sleep."

"Okay."