Author's Note: Set after 17x14 Look Up Child, because I can't help but think about it. Title and song lyrics from "Harbor" by Vienna Teng.
There's your horizon to chase
So go far beyond where we stand
"Mommy, mommy!" Harriet called out. "Look at me, I'm dancing!"
April looked up from the box she was packing and smiled, as she saw her daughter twirling around the room with the remainder of a roll of bubble wrap. "Looking good, sweetie," she said, as she methodically wrapped a frame that held a photo of her and Arizona. The enthusiasm of a child could be contagious.
It'd be easy for Harriet to start over in a new city, find some new friends; she was such a charming girl, of course, and she was still so young.
She hadn't had to start over since she'd moved to Seattle, back when she was a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed intern and the world seemed to stretch out before her with endless possibilities. Back when Harriet's existence wasn't even more than a thought suspended on a series of prayers that had yet to be fulfilled.
She ran her fingers over the photo in the frame and thought about Arizona. Maybe once they got out to the east coast, they could swing down to New York for a weekend and see Arizona and Sofia. Possibly Callie, too? The last time they'd spoken, Arizona played a little coy regarding her and Callie's status, but that was right before the world went into shock.
The fact that any of them had made it through this year intact and with their heads above water at all was a miracle comparable to Jesus Himself walking on top of Puget Sound or allowing the Mariners to win the World Series.
There were so many photos, so many memories of her time in this city; she could never forget them, even if she tried.
The most perfect of them all was spinning her way across the room and humming, a whirling dervish of energy bundled into the body of her perfect daughter, created out of love. "Watch out, or you'll hit the wall!" April called out, but it was too late.
"Oops!" Harriet was giggling, though a small cut had formed across her upper arm. "I wanna unicorn bandaid."
After patching her daughter up and setting her in front of the television with PBS in the background, April resumed her packing. She didn't usually let the television babysit her child, but at that very precise moment, she had other things to worry about than how much time Harriet and Daniel Tiger spent bonding.
When they'd last spoken earlier that morning, Jackson had promised she wouldn't have to lift a finger for this move – "April, I'm the one asking you to drop your life, I'll take care of everything you and Harriet need for the move" – but she'd insisted on at least taking care of their personal stuff. The furniture and whatever else, well, half of it had been Matthew's, and she was pretty sure he wouldn't care if she put it up on Craigslist. And the other half – Jackson's an Avery for crying out loud, of the Averys, which no matter what scandals had tarnished the name, still held a certain mystique for most people. She knew money was no object to him.
Which, she supposed, was at least part of why he felt like he could spring this on her. If money was no object, then it couldn't be an obstacle to his dreams. And she was apparently still a part of his dreams.
A week ago, she'd have thought she'd be in Seattle indefinitely.
A week from now, she'd be in Boston, all the way across the country.
Life can change so fast sometimes that if you don't stop to look around once in a while, you might miss it all in a single blink.
Jackson guessed he could understand why April wouldn't have chosen to confide in him regarding her split from Matthew. He knew how much she'd always cared for him, even after she shattered his heart by leaving with Jackson that day. Hell, April didn't know about a lot of what had gone on in his personal life since she'd left the hospital, and that would be a conversation to have at another time.
He hadn't really given her a lot of reasons to confide in him lately, which stung in equal measure to how much it innately made sense.
Besides, of all the people in the world, Matthew had the least reasons to trust him when it came to April, and he knew April; he knew she'd do anything to make the marriage last as long as she could and make every last word of those vows count.
The same vows they'd once shared. The same heady promises made in the rush of love. And April had been talking about the long and winding road of God's path and what God had in store for them, and he had been critical of religion in the past – not so much hers as everyone else's – but something in it made sense.
Their road in Seattle had long ago ended, but there was a hidden fork that led to Boston. He'd be going home; what few things he needed from here, he'd already packed, and he could send for anything else later. Really, they could keep his Seattle home as a west coast base of operations if his plans for the organization took off the way he anticipated they might, but that could be a decision they'd make later.
It was strange, but not weird, to think of April and him as a unit in anything again, and maybe he was reading too much into a single hug. But April gave her whole heart to everything and they'd always had Harriet as the tie that bound them together – legally, if nothing else – and despite any angry words he'd once spewed to other effect, he'd never really stopped loving her.
That's what happens when you fall in love with your best friend. Even when the romantic love was burned away and nothing was left but ash, soot and the bitter taste of painful regret, the abiding love that had carried them through as friends – best friends, he amended - still lingered, never fully going away.
The last of their (now-former) co-workers left the small goodbye get-together, Owen being the last to give his well-wishes, and April stood there with her glass of wine and looked to Jackson. "Looks like that's…that," she said, exhaling a soft breath, staring as blinking taillights faded into the inky Seattle night. "All that's left now is the leaving." The leaving would be in the morning; since it was technically considered a business relocation, she knew he'd somehow convinced the Board it was reasonable to fly them all in the private jet.
"Yeah." He drew another long sip from his glass and sighed. "It's really over, now."
"But is it really over, as long as we're both still here?" And in that moment, she wasn't really sure if she was talking about their lives in Seattle, or them as a couple. Something had kept them in each other's orbit for as long as they had, and she couldn't entirely chalk it up to Harriet, who was at home with her favorite sitter. "Jackson –"
"Don't say anything," he whispered, and he leaned over her. Had his eyes always been that impossible shade of shocking icy blue? The scruff of his unshaven beard scraped against the rise of her cheek, and she let out a small whimper as he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her.
It felt good to be desired again. It felt right that it was Jackson.
Somehow, it always came back to Jackson in the end.
As he pulled away, she saw the grin on his face, and she knew there was a matching one on her own.
"Ready to go?" he asked, as he held out his hand to walk her down the stairs – or into her future. She took hold of it and held on tight.
"With you, always."
No matter the distance
I'm holding your hand
-fini-