A/N: Directly following the last sequence in Cut.
Deals with the aftermath of suicide attempts and references all of that, so yeah. Do what makes you safe.
It's been weeks but nights like these continue. April sits in front of Andy, his back up against the wall, with her head in his chest. His arms are circled around her and they're holding hands because she woke up in shakes, freely flowing tears. They both hate it, but neither of them say anything about it. That position is all they have, and in some ways that's all April really needs but this time she can't stop herself from babbling.
Whatever she's thinking comes out in a rush; Andy doesn't let go of her.
"Why d'you even bother...?" she sobs, trailing off and squeezing his hands harder.
"Shh, shh," Andy tries to comfort her by kissing the back of her head and generally keeping them as close as possible.
"I was going to go through with that, man," she chokes back and hates how vulnerable and stupid all of this is. "You were... you were gonna find me."
That might be the part that broke April. It was all so selfish. Andy said, right after she started seeing things without black spots and breathing without coughing, that he was being selfish for stopping her, but none of it makes sense even now. He wasn't supposed to make decisions for her, that was their deal, but she can't stop equally thanking and hating him.
April bounces her head back on him once, twice, and stops on the third, much harder push of her head. He just sits there and rubs the back of her hands, Andy trying not to say anything but keeping them warm at four in the morning on a weekend. The memory of blood pounding through her body, eyes seeing distant black waves crash over her is all she remembers. That and, a few seconds after passing out, Andy standing over her.
When she relapsed in high school Andy looked sad and a little defeated, which is what she would have expected from him then if he caught her. Andy looked at her like she was going to vanish and the sheer terror in his eyes, his face soaked in sweat, shook April.
"Seriously, you should just leave," April says callously, uncaring how incredibly stupid a thing it is to even think. "It'd be way easier for you."
"How 'bout you?" Andy finally says something, turning her around in his lap until she's facing him.
She hates letting him see her cry. In some ways it was because she still liked to believe that she was above ever doing it, ever, but April's real problem is that she loathes that pity that she fears will come. Letting him see her like this might make him look at her differently than he did, and that terrifies her. She could handle being alone, at least that's what she always tells herself, but even though she knows codependency could kill her she doesn't like thinking about him being gone.
Alone with her thoughts isn't how April likes to spend too many afternoons anymore, not after the last time. When she was left to her own devices April nearly hanged herself.
"What?" she returns, not looking up at him.
"If I left would you be okay?" Andy says, his hands touching the scars down her forearms in slow, comforting movements.
"Honestly, no. I'd... it'd be this every day," April answer without a moment's hesitation. "But that can't-"
"Then I'm staying," and she can see him smile through the darkness.
"That can't be your only reason for staying, Andy," April mumbles to herself, digging up bullshit excuses and half-cocked reasons that he needs to leave.
There are few things worse than thinking like that, like everything you've gotten isn't deserved at all, but April can't help herself. Important things like school, searching for internships, and Andy - all of those April tells herself that she'll wake up tomorrow without any of it - they're just fleeting and everything will come to pass in a flicker. To be broken like that, in a way that she doesn't know it's possible to fix, is the worst part.
Minutia like food, living in a rundown apartment, and even just missing a red light by a mere second feels undeserved. Everything feels just that: fleeting, unwarranted.
"It's not, and you know that April," Andy chuckles, one hand moving up to her shoulder and caressing her upper arm. "I love you babe, I'm not gonna leave. C'mon, you know that right?"
"I... yeah, I know," April tries to smile but her lips refuse anything other than a half-hearted attempt. "It's what you think all the time, though. Isn't it?"
"Hard not to think about you all the time. I think I spend most of my day doing that," he gives her a goofy grin and she looks away from him for a second.
"Seriously Andy, I was going to... I was going-"
"I know," Andy nods, interrupting her by moving his arms under hers and pulling her into a hug on his lap. "I know, babe. You need to talk about it, I get it. Go on, talk about it."
April buries her head in the crease of his shoulder, just above his collarbone, and tries to think of the words. Instead she just soaks his shirt with fresh tears, getting more and more annoyed at how much and how easily she's crying. She was April Ludgate, not some overly sensitive teenager with problems. Thing was, those two weren't mutually exclusive. So she lets go and stays like that, with Andy, for a while.
In the end she doesn't actually say anything, but Andy doesn't move either of them. It might have been five minutes, two hours, or a month but April doesn't dare move away from him. Sunrise and morning light's around them but she's still sitting there with her legs wrapped around him and her face smashed into Andy's neck.
There's no need for words just then.
Andy does little things over the following week. When they order a pizza he answers the door, it's usually April's job because he's passed out. Instead of going out to the diner like they usually do most weekends they sit in and he tries his best to cook. Even with boxed sides, instructions clearly labeled, he burns the macaroni and the cheese tastes like salt. April can at least eat the overcooked peas and some of the garlic bread he bought.
She doesn't ask him why he's doing any of this because April doesn't want to hear it. The inevitable answer is going to be because she deserves stuff like this. It's a simple gesture and hearing the words might break her, so April enjoys it.
One day they sit in, April skipping classes again because she feels uncomfortable walking out the door. Normally she would tell him to encourage her to go, and he'd always compliment her through the door even if she wore seven sweaters and snowpants, but this time he just nods and tells her that it's okay. They sit in bed, backs against the headboard, and quietly sit through the morning. Andy's arm is slung over her shoulder, brushing back bits of hair and pushing strands over her ear absentmindedly.
"Thanks," April says out of the blue.
"For what?" and there's no tryhard put-on stupidity there, just genuine curiosity.
"Staying," she says simply.
The way he asked that question hurts, but in a way that sends explosions through April's chest and a burst of happiness that she doesn't really understand. She's been happy, she's been overjoyed, and she's been all of that with Andy too, but the way that he asks that like he's oblivious to everything he's doing - like it's just supposed to be, and there's no question about it - is almost too much.
"Love you."
"Love you too," April responds slowly. "If you'd want to leave you can, though."
"I know I can," Andy doesn't look down to her even when she stares up at him, "but I don't want to."
He stares off at the wall, not meeting her eyes and April's thankful for that. Everything about his words hits her like a massive weight, Andy making it very clear to her that he knows his options. She could tell herself all day that he doesn't leave because he's afraid she'll do something, but the way they sit that day is different. Not unlike the kind of day that you want to spend sitting outside in the sun, lying in the grass and being happy that you get to breathe, but it's the kind of day that just makes April smile to herself and rest her head on his shoulder.
an2: I'm curious: do people still want to read from Cut? If I knew that people were still interested in the storyline then I'd be able to continue thinking of set ups and take requests when they trickle in, but I don't want to spend too much time on something that no one will read/want. Genuinely curious, but you don't have to respond. If you do, I don't necessarily want requests. I just need to know if it's worth the time.