A/N: Requested anonymously on my tumblr as, essentially, "April feels like shit about post-fitness Andy."

This was meant to be a precursor to a multi-part thing I'm gonna do for the smut series, but ended up being something a little different. Oh yeah, if you didn't know, I do a smut series on AO3 under the name opti. So, yeah. If that's your thing.

It started with little things, dumb minutia that April probably shouldn't have noticed but she does anyways. First he stopped drinking beer as often as usual - four or five every night, at least - and while the little bit of extra money every week was pretty awesome, the lack of drinking was more than weird. The next few days he looked at the pizza she ate longingly and told her he'd find something else to eat. What the hell he expected to find in their house she didn't know, but somehow he gave up on that too.

In some ways she always hoped he'd keep going with the fitness regime he barely started for the police exam, because she knew between the two of them he was incredibly unhealthy. Now, though, it's different. He walked around with Chris a lot, talking about stupid things that just two weeks ago he would have been too lazy to try, and he always ate lunch with him now.

He left at five in the morning to go to the gym, April usually holding onto him before he got out of bed and complaining with dull noises for him to stay. Of all the things being with him gave her, April was never ungrateful for waking up with him right there. True, she loved the fact that he radiated so much heat that she woke up in a sweat half the time - sometimes hers, most of the time his - but April loathed waking up in a large bed by herself.

It brought back feelings that April had learned to push away for going on four years, but nonetheless watching Andy walk out of the room with a bag of gym clothes in his hand wasn't the easiest thing in the world. But that was stupid, and she knew it, so April waited in bed, staring out the window and trying to fall back asleep. When he came back he'd obviously showered there, not nearly as caked in gross perspiration as he was just from being a person. He'd flop into bed at seven, and to his credit Andy would turn over and wrap his entire body around her. It wasn't his fault and that made things even worse, at least for April.

That morning when he came back she was curled up in blankets and when he went to move the covers she just snatched them out of his hand and pulled them around her more.

"Still sleepy? Sorry, babe," Andy muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I think I need to eat anyways. You want something? Chris gave me this awesome recipe for a, like, super healthy milkshake with nuts and stuff."

"Ugh," she grunted in response, burying her head into the cocoon of blankets.

"Nah, that's fair. It tasted gross anyways," he laughed and stood up. "I could make you eggs or something?"

"No," April returned sourly, trying to keep her face hidden from him this early.

"Oh, okay," he said cheerily.

Before he left the room he moved to where she was wrapped in blankets and tried to find a good angle to try and give her a morning kiss. All he could find was her forehead and she refused to move at all, groaning at him when he tried to unravel a bit of the covers.

"You always liked morning snuggles," he pouted, clearly trying to get her to come out. "Now you won't even kiss me, what's up babe?"

"Nothing Andy," she said in the most put-on, chipper voice she could muster. "I'm swell. I'm fantastic. Go make breakfast."

"You... you seem bummed out about something," he nodded and sat down next to her. "What's up, babe?"

"I told you I'm fine," she mumbled.

"Which means you're bummed out. You never tell me when you're happy, you just... are," he shrugged and made to put a hand on her but pulled back. "I know I'm stupid and you think I don't pay attention to stuff, and that's probably fair-"

"I don't-"

"But you always say that when you're mad at me," April peeked out of the bundle to stare at him looking away from her. "I dunno what I did, like at all, but uh... I guess I'll go make breakfast."

So April watched him leave again, shoulders slumped and less excited about seemingly everything than before. She felt more comfortable in that haphazard mess of blankets than with her husband and it just made April furious - at herself, at him, at everyone and everything. Part of her wanted to be okay with watching him so enthused about life and getting fit but, somewhere, she hated it.

Maybe it was because, the day before, she remembered sitting in on a forum with Andy. Afterwards, despite April standing right next to him and their hands clearly swinging back and forth together, two different women walked up and did the most obvious ogling she'd ever seen. Poor, oblivious Andy just smiled and continued talking to April. It was fine, they were stupid and Andy loved her so she didn't have much of a problem with any of that. Hell, Andy put up with that creep Harris all the time because he knew that she wasn't going to ditch him for some thirty-year old stoner way into Phish.

When they brought up relocating that unfortunate art house movie rental place turned porn peddler, and a few of Pawnee's very own residential porn actresses brought up their points, she watched Andy pay attention to what they were saying. Or to their boobs, April wasn't sure.

Either way, when they walked past them talking where the older women had been ignored Andy turned to them and smiled. Pulling him back to her, April kissed him obviously in front of the several tall, absurdly done-up blondes that gave April a look. There were some benefits to Andy attempting to get in shape, but now that he'd gone more than a few times and given up and it was clearly showing through his goofy short-sleeve and tie ensemble April knew this wasn't one of them.

"Hey babe?" Andy was putting on his socks while April sat in the closet putting clothes on with barely any light.

"Yeah?" she tried to remain even.

The last few days any time Andy asked her something she felt like snapping back. There wasn't any rhyme or reason to it, just that April was mad at something. Before she thought it was insecurity in seeing him leave her every morning but she got over that quickly enough. It wasn't like he was actually leaving. He literally just went to go work out and then came back; it was stupid of her to think like that, anyways.

Then she thought it was because he was interested in other women. Whatever strange part of her brain believed that must have died because the night after the porn forum debacle, April literally just whispered sex in his ear and he practically leapt into bed with her. Well, no. He quite literally leapt into bed with her. That wasn't a night she was going to forget soon, and although sex shouldn't have been a measurement for their relationship April knew how Andy worked.

One time, so long ago that she could barely even remember it, they were trying to come up with a third to invite into the bedroom. April, jokingly and with a bit of anger, suggested Ann to him and actually felt him go limp the moment the name escaped her lips. It was kind of endearing knowing that, despite how attractive Ann was, Andy stopped thinking like that when any romantic feelings died out between them. It was strange, and they never agreed on another person to join them, but the sex was still fantastic and April would remember that little nugget forever.

The problem was something else, something directed inward, and April hated that even more.

"How come you always change in the closet?" he asked candidly, like only Andy could.

"You always look at me," she answered without thinking, smacking her forehead lightly.

"Yeah... you always said that was creepy," he chuckled and she wanted to but couldn't. "I thought you liked to do it?"

"Shut up," she laughed and could hear him trying not to burst out into similar laughter.

"Oh come on," he finally subsided and asked her a bit more seriously this time. "You never show me your new underwear either."

"Because that's stupid, and why should you care what underwear I've got on?" she bit back, coldly trying to distance herself from this conversation.

"Because sometimes you don't wear any..." he trailed off with a sing-song voice and she could practically hear the smile in his voice. "And then work's pretty cool."

"And super uncomfortable," April hissed.

Andy was silent then and she could hear the bed give a squeak like his weight lifted off of it. That telltale movement of springs was quieter every week now, and April opened the closet door to look out. Peeking around the edge of the sliding door, the door to the bedroom was closed and no one was in there. Stepping out, she took her clothes with her and got back to dressing.

When she had pulled on her jeans for the day and was about to put a shirt on she looked down at her stomach. Andy's was starting to flatten out and the awesomely fluffy fat there was making way for lean skin and his muscles becoming more prominent, and hers was just kind of there. April knew she wasn't necessarily fat, but she also had a lot of loose-fitting shirts and wore lots of those thin cardigans for a reason.

She squeezed the bit of fat around her bellybutton and sighed. Bending over to pick up her shirt she heard a whistle behind her and turned around quickly to see Andy. She still wasn't wearing a shirt and his eyes were glued to her body. Andy's face was still plastered in a smile even as she played with the sleeves of the shirt still in her hand.

"Babe, you are so hot," he said quietly, clearly meaning that to be some kind of romantic gesture.

"You're just saying that because you were staring at my ass," she mumbled, "and I'm not wearing a shirt either."

"What?" he walked forward and took the shirt out of her hand, unfolding it and giving it back. "You're beautiful, babe. Like, all the time. No matter what."

"Because we always do it in the dark," she lashed back, putting the shirt on over her head and struggling until Andy moved one of the sleeve holes over a bit.

"You asked me to do that," he muttered and she could see his face fall through the thin fabric.

"We don't have to anymore," April suggested, shrugging the shirt on the rest of the way. "Like-"

"Does that mean we can do it in the middle of the day again?" he said happily, nearly bouncing on his feet. "Like, sex once a day is cool and all but I really miss those lunch break quickies..."

"Though you can't really call them that," she smiled and moved closer to him, accepting his even stronger arms and hands around her waist.

"Yeah, last time you were... what? Twenty minutes late?" he chuckled and bent down to kiss her on the lips, hard.

"I think they're called nooners anyways," April laughed into his neck, hugging him. "I don't think you're supposed to plan them so much, though."

Andy laughed and picked her up off her feet, moving closer to the bed. They both fell onto the sheets quietly in the morning, and April didn't remember a time when he was so enthusiastic. Even so, it just made her hate herself even more.

When she stood up and had to find the clothes she'd just put on, only to have them torn off anyways, having to get dressed again just felt like a chore. She turned around and watched Andy stare lovingly at her the whole time and for a second April actually sighed. Not in relief, or like some great weight was lifted off her, but because she was who he had. The only thought that ran through her mind, and it was so damn familiar and yet old it hurt, was just that - infuriating:

You can do so much better.

It started to become incredibly noticeable a month after that morning, the first time April realized what she really hated in this whole sequence of events. Andy's stricter diet and refusal to skip any day - early in the morning and just after their "lunch" breaks that became longer and longer with each week - made his chest swell, and his stomach stopped really being that. It was more like a finely-toned six-pack and in a lot of ways, April was glad she got to enjoy that.

He could always carry her around and give her piggyback rides, but that was mostly on account of April just being pretty small. Now he could easily pick her up with an arm and carry her by his side if he wanted to. Sex was never in the dark anymore, and partly it was because April felt a selfish desire there. Sure she could feel his back's muscles tighten and generally do whatever weird rippling that those stupid smut books tried to make sense of, but watching him was something completely different.

And, in the end, it led to April sitting in the bathroom now. Something as stupid as Andy getting in shape made her realize more about herself than April thought possible. And in the end, it was just so stupid. She sat on the edge of the sink with her head in her hands, trying to figure out a way to explain this to Andy.

"Babe, why are you doing this?" he sounded like tears were forming in his eyes, his voice all babbling and whiny. "Did I do something?"

"No, it's not you," she answered him with a hoarse yell.

She'd been locked in there for two hours now, crying. It was so fucking stupid. It all made no sense, and she wasn't some stupid hormonal teenager. April Ludgate-Dwyer, possibly soon to be just Ludgate, didn't cry and she definitely didn't cry about leaving her husband.

"Is it somebody else?" Andy's so quiet that she knows he's standing right next to the door. "I mean, I get it. I don't understand why someone as perfect as you would-"

"That's why!" she jumped up from the sink. She moved to the door but only yelled into it instead of opening. "That's why, Andy. I'm not perfect, okay? Stop saying that!"

"So... I don't get this at all," he sniffed and April wanted to put her fist through the door just to get him to stop being so Andy, "so you wanna get actual-divorced because..."

"You think I'm the best person ever, and we both know that's not true," she huffed out with uneven breaths.

"But you are-"

"You're supposed to love me even though I'm fucked up," April tried explaining to him, "but you're so... stupid that you think I'm anything else."

She couldn't find another word to describe what Andy was. Amazing? She couldn't say he was being "so Andy" because the only person that made any sense to was her, so she had to settle with something demeaning. It was always the best way to deflect any actual emotion. So she chose stupid. He wasn't an incredibly smart person, but April felt a backlash in her chest from using that word towards him.

That awful return in her body was familiar. It used to be what April felt when she made fun of him so many years ago. Like an old friend with excessive taste in drugs, pushing them on her with a fervent gleam in his eyes, April remembered that feeling all too well.

It was the fucking worst.

"Oh," is all he said in response.

Oh.

Not like the kind of response she expected. April expected him to fight back, like movies and books always told her to anticipate. He was the guy with a heart of gold who was in love with her, not the successful woman or whatever trope she wanted to apply to herself but just April. It was his job to fight back.

But he didn't. Just oh. That silly little noise, more that than a word, sounded like exactly what Andy expected.

"You get it now, don't you?" she pushed her forehead against the door and let it support her weight as April looked at the tiles on the floor. "You get it-"

"Yeah, I get it," Andy mumbled on the other side. "It's okay."

"What?"

April knew what was coming next - he'd say that he wasn't ever worth her. That was the other branch for this sort of thing, wasn't it? Then she could be offended that he's turning her own insecurities into fodder for him to reverse her decision. It was more complicated than April really expected from Andy, but it was always the thing that irked her more than anything else in these kinds of situations. It was like turning the tables, only that the guy was marginalizing her own discomfort for his.

She was expected to comfort him afterwards. Andy, the big goof - now the big, muscled goof - knew how to play her. Obviously that's how it would work.

"I knew you were bummed out about something, but I didn't know what it was," he started to explain. "You never tell me how you're doing unless you're annoyed or bummed out. And you kept telling me that you're happy, and you're happy being around me, and that me getting fit was cool."

"Andy-"

"I guess I forgot to actually think," he laughed. "Y'know, I do that a lot. You said it best: I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid," April growled through the door, opening it quickly. "You're not-"

His face was so broken, barely held together, that April stopped midway through opening. His hands were at his sides, not moving, and his shoulders slumped as much as the burly angles could look like a slump.

April's cheeks heated up immediately, and that flame of anger pointed back at her like it always did. It was always her fault. Always her fucking problem, always hers. It was never Andy. It was always her.

"Don't, babe, don't," she walked forward and her hands moved up to his face, brushing. "Don't cry, Andy."

"Sorry, I guess I'm just a little... I dunno, bummed feels like a shitty way to describe it," he gave a meek laugh and April followed suit.

"Just please don't cry, okay?" she asked him genuinely, standing up on her toes to kiss him softly.

"I don't wanna do this," Andy's voice shook and April can't stop hating herself for it. "It's so dumb-"

"You know you can do better, right?" April stroked his cheek and tried to maintain a level voice. "You can. You can do so much better. Someone who's not broken and depressed all the time, and someone who... just isn't like me."

"But I don't want anyone else, April," he wouldn't stop looking at her and that might have just made it impossible. "I don't, I swear."

"I believe you," she said and kissed him again, selfishly. "I think that's the problem."

"Can I do anything?" Andy asked with a tone that April had never heard before.

It wasn't like a kid that had his favorite toy taken away. He didn't sound like he was mad, or disappointed, or anything really. Andy just sounded... gone. Like he was defeated for the last time and every bit of him just left his voice altogether in that one question.

"What?" April asked him again.

"What can I do to make you stay?" he said again in that same tone, all hope gone. "I'll do whatever you want me to. I'll stop going to the gym, I'll be here every morning with you. If you want me to get another job, I can! I'll stop spending money on games and I can-"

April kissed him yet again. She didn't want him to speak anymore, because she could feel those same tears welling up. The last thing she wanted was to see him crying, but making him watch her bawl would just turn into a nightmare. It wasn't ever going to make sense to her, but April didn't want to leave. Yet, she knew she should. That was the best thing for both of them - for Andy, he actually did deserve more.

For her, any amount of time with him was undeserved. No matter what he said, April wasn't the kind of person that got to have people like him in her life. It was some kind of freak accident, really, and that's all it should have ever been. She just couldn't imagine her life without him, and that was a massive problem. The moment he realized she wasn't worth it, he'd leave - it was only rational, despite what she told herself every day about Andy - and then she'd only have memories.

So why deal with that then when she could break away herself? And why couldn't she stop kissing Andy?

"Just stay one more night, please," Andy almost choked on his words. "Please, please. April, just... let me explain it to you."

Everything in her head wanted to argue. She wanted to argue so damn bad, but just couldn't.

For a week, April couldn't argue with him.

He smothered her in praise every morning, barely saying anything that wasn't directed at her. It felt a little creepy, to be honest. Then again, she didn't want it to end April just knew it had to. But then a week turned into two weeks. Soon, she didn't even remember wanting to argue about it.

Two weeks, a month. Andy kept going to the gym because she told him to, and kept telling him how good he was looking. One month melted away and she didn't want to say another word about it, almost like a stray decision rather than an ever present doubt in her chest. That night, the first day of the second month she gave up arguing, they were in bed and April latched onto him with her arms around his waist.

"I think about it all the time," she murmured in the dark, quiet and soft.

"Sorry," Andy was trying his best, and she knew it.

"It's dumb, I know, but I still think about it," April couldn't stop holding onto him despite her words. "Like when you'll just realize I'm no good-"

"Don't say stuff like that, honey," he turned around and nuzzled her, their noses touching before he moved to kiss her neck. "I love you so much. Like, more than anyone or anything else ever."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you'll always-"

"Forever," he continued, moving back to her lips. "April, forever. Forever, and if I have to tell you that every morning then okay. If I have to show you, every night that's okay."

He punctuated that by moving them closer and kissing her harder. His hands were moving up to cup her face before he broke off.

"If you ever think like that, call me. Tell me about it, just don't let it sit," he offered and let his thumb roll over her cheek. "We can talk about it, or not. Or whatever. I just don't want you to think you're going through this alone."

April smiled, against all hope, and couldn't stop a rolling streak of wetness along her cheek from falling. Andy's thumb caught it and wiped away for her, moving closer to kiss her.

AN2: Parks tonight. Parks TONIGHT. PARKS TONIGHT. PARKSTONIGHT.