Title: Absolution
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Pairing: April/David
Summary: 'Something dark and horrible was blossoming inside of her, and April didn't know how to make it go away by herself.' April/David. Sort of.
Disclaimer: K.A Applegate owns everything, so don't sue.
"And it's amazing
with the look in your eyes
like you could save me
but you won't even try
and then you tell me again
how everything will be all right..."
Matt Nathanson, I Saw
"April?"
April glared at the door. If David had any sense of self-preservation at all, he would stop knocking.
"April? You in there?"
Of course, David didn't. April's rage was rising up in her throat, choking her, ready to boil over. And God, how she wanted to explode.
"Go away," she said, loudly enough that it would hopefully reach through the door, reach through David's impossibly thick head. "Go away, David," she repeated once again for good measure.
A pause. The doorknob jiggled. "April, open the door." David's voice was stern now, commanding. The tone of General Davideus giving orders to a solider.
As Christopher would have said--screw that.
"Fine." Feeling even angrier than before, if that were at all possible, April quickly scrambled off the bed and stomped to the door. She flung it open. "Happy now, General? The door's open." She stomped back to the bed and sat down at the edge, facing David. "So, why exactly have you decided to grace me with your presence?" April asked sarcastically.
David looked startled. "What's with you? You're all...pissy."
"Pissy," she repeated. "Christopher bitches about everything 24/7, and I'm the one who's pissy?"
"That's Christopher," David said. "It's his job to bitch about everything."
"And my job is what, to be Miss Sunshine?" April was pleased with herself. She'd already been a bitch to Christopher and Jalil, so now it was David's turn.
David sighed, like he was starting to regret coming in here. Well, that was fine with April. The sooner he left, the sooner she could be miserable and angry in peace.
"No, you're...okay, screw this." David's frustration was clearly mounting as April continued to refuse to go along with the script. "What the hell's going on, April?" David stared at her, trying to figure her out.
And suddenly, April snapped. Whatever tiny hold she had left on her temper was destroyed, just like that. She leapt onto her feet and got right into David's face.
"Okay. You wanna know what the hell's wrong, David?" April's voice was a menacing whisper, designed to freak David out. "I'm sick of this place, okay? I'm fucking sick of it."
David's brown eyes were wide with shock, either from her attitude or from the swearing. "April, what--"
"I hate this place, okay? I made the wrong choice, General. I should have stayed in the real world, because you know what? I'm not you." April was getting slightly dizzy from the rush of letting it all out. She continued anyway.
"I'm not you," she repeated, "I don't need to save this place, I don't need to play the hero like you do...all I want is to go home." With those words, April stumbled back onto the bed, covering her eyes. Something dark and horrible was blossoming inside of her, and April didn't know how to make it go away by herself.
She couldn't cry. She could not cry.
As David came closer, April lifted her head wearily. He was approaching her hesitantly now, in the way you'd approach a wild animal. "April," he said, in a tone of voice that was meant to soothe, but infuriated, "you have to give it time--"
"Time?" she nearly shrieked, bounding off the bed for the third time. Her hands balled into fists as she roared, "I'm not fucking impatient, okay, I'm miserable!" With these words, she started to hit David, anywhere she could reach. His shoulders, his chest--anywhere.
"April--"
Tears were running down April's cheeks now. Sobs nearly choked her as she cried, "I hate this place, I hate what it's turned me into...I'm a murderer, do you get that?" She looked up into David's eyes, desperate for an absolution he couldn't give.
But David's eyes were fierce now. "No," he said firmly. "You did what you had to do, what I should have done...you did the right thing."
April didn't listen. "I'm not you," she mumbled, her anger having run its course, and exhausted her in the process. "I thought I could be, but I'm not...I don't have enough strength to get through this. I don't."
"Yeah, you do. You do, April."
Eventually, maybe, April might let David's words in. But not now. He was giving her absolution, but she couldn't let herself accept it.
Ego te absolvo. I absolve you.
She leaned against him. "Sorry for hitting you," she murmered into his chest, and dared to look up.
His eyes were filled with amusement and forgiveness. "S'okay. We've all had rotten days."
She stepped away, suddenly embarrased. April studied her hands. They had changed. More calluses now, dirt under the fingernails that weren't broken. No blood though. Not literally, at least.
"Are you okay now?"
April almost laughed, but didn't. I'm never going to be 'okay' again, General. This place has seen to that. "No," she answered honestly. "I'm...better now, though."
David nodded, understanding. "That works. And...you are going to be okay, April. Eventually."
April considered him. Ever since the beginning, David had accepted this. Accepted Everworld. Embraced it, in fact. What had Jalil called it? Embracing the inevitable, that's what he said. From the beginning of their messed-up adventure, David had loved it here. April used to find that bewildering, disturbing.
Now though, she envied him. Because, for all her big talk about doing the right thing, here she was, miserable. Doubting herself, regretting her decision. And wasn't it better, to just accept it? To...embrace the inevitable?
"April?" David stepped closer to her again.
"Do you have nightmares?" she asked abruptly, sitting down on the bed again. David's face closed off, and April mentally slapped herself. "No, sorry, stupid question. Of course you do We all do." She licked her lips nervously, and started again. "It's just...I keep dreaming. About Senna. About Hel and Loki and all the crap we've seen and...I'm just so sick of being alone, David," she confessed in a rush. "I don't do alone well. I never have."
"You're not alone," David reassured her. "You're not."
And, oh, how she wanted to believe.
April slid off the bed. "Prove it," she whispered hoarsely. And she kissed him.
There were no violins, no music playing in April's ears. Just the sound of her heart pounding. But she was so tired of feeling alone. So tired. And this was better, and David hadn't pulled away, and it was the first time in weeks that April had finally felt something other than rage and misery, and dammit, that had to mean something, right? Right?
When they finally pulled away, April tugged on his shirt. "Take this off," she muttered. And David obeyed, pulling it off like it was a reflex, like they had done this a million times, like this wasn't absolutely insane.
Where are all your fine morals now? a voice in April's head asked jeeringly. Naughty April, Father Mike wouldn't approve of this...Although April didn't like to thnk of it, the voice sounded a lot like Senna's.
Whatever. The important thing was, David still looked great with his shirt off, and April felt...better. Not okay, but better.
"Come on," she muttered, leading him to her bed. And David still silently obeyed, not asking any questions. Until--
"What do you need, April?"
April didn't answer for a long time. She just got into the bed, and David followed her. And with his arm wrapped around her stomach, his warm breath tickling her ear, April said softly, "This is exactly what I need."
Another pause. "Okay," he said finally. "Okay, then."
And that was it.
Later, April asked sleepily, "You think Christopher's really upset about what happened at dinner tonight?"
"You mean the part where you threw a goblet at his head?" David sounded amused. "Yeah, I think he'll be okay. He just thought it was that time of the month for you."
"You knew better, though," she whispered, and he didn't disagree.
And they fell asleep, and this time, there were no nightmares for either one of them.
End.