**** Author's Note: There is a flashback in this chapter, so just be sure to notice the timeline information. I don't usually do flashbacks, but here it was seemed better than doing it in a strict chronological order. ****

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The surgery was as successful as could be hoped for, but it took six hours, and by the time Dr. Stark let her close, April was exhausted. Nothing like a shift running several hours long to make you extra grateful that you had the next two days off, she reflected as she woke up the next morning.

Not that today would really be all that restful. She was moving into her new apartment today. She still couldn't believe it was happening this fast - she'd only signed the lease two days ago, and that after less than ten minutes after laying eyes on it. The leasing agent had said over the phone that the little one bedroom had been ready for several weeks, but no one had been interested in it, so if she wanted it, it was hers, and she could move in immediately.

She hadn't wanted it at all, at first.

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**** Two Days Before ****

She'd finally settled on a neighborhood, the sloping blocks just east of downtown below, and just west of the hospital, up on the crest of the hill. There were cute Victorian walk-ups scattered throughout, two and three story houses converted with extra exterior doors installed to convert them into small separate-entry apartments. They were adorable, she thought as he walked past another, and April was already dreamily imagining finding the perfect one for herself, complete with pristine white trim and a tidy row of stepping stones leading the way through the garden.

But the building she arrived at was nothing like what she had pictured. It was far too large to be called adorable, even it had been attractive, and it wasn't. In fact, from the sidewalk, this building looked like a nightmare. So much so that she had to triple check the address to convince herself that she was in the right place.

The yard was overgrown, ivy growing so thick on the board fence that soon it would disguise the fact that the white paint had almost all peeled off, and the small symmetrical patches of grass in the front yard were slowly being swallowed by two equally tangled rows of rhododendrons that had been allowed to grow to monstrous proportions.

The once-handsome brick exterior, clearly designed to be the facade of a small hotel or boarding house, should have given the building a stately air. Instead, it looked like a purebred cat that had gotten into a few too many alley fights. It was clear that repairs had been made over the years, but not professionally - odd angles stuck out everywhere, many of the bricks jutted out instead of laying flush with the wall, and the window shutters were just a bit crooked. To complete the image of an old manor gone to seed, the gutters and drainpipe were so rusted they looked like thick brown lace.

Horrified, her mouth forming a perfect O, April stood frozen to the sidewalk. She thought of turning around right there, but she hadn't been raised to stand anyone up, even if it was just an appointment to show an apartment. So she walked gingerly up the tilting concrete steps, across the cracked pathway to the front door, and just a few minutes later, the leasing agent had appeared to show her inside.

And actually, the interior was much better taken care of - almost charming, really, she'd thought grudgingly as the agent had lead her over the wooden floors of the second floor hallway, nodding along and smiling with fake interest as the woman bubbled on about original fixtures and how the second floor had been intended as a set of suites for upper-class visitors in the late 1800s.

And then she unlocked the apartment, allowing April to step inside. Immediately, her opinion of the place turned upside down.

The living room was huge. It felt even bigger because the far end of it didn't have a wall, just one large window and a set of French doors leading out onto a long, narrow balcony that overlooked the back garden. There was no glaring overhead light, but rounded bronze sconces lining the walls - walls that were notpainted a soulless rental white, like every other apartment April had seen, reminding her unpleasantly of the sterility of the hospital. Instead, the walls were painted a soft, warm brown, bringing out the highlights of the dark wood floor.

April half-heartedly followed the woman to the left, taking cursory glances at the small bedroom and even tinier closet. She didn't want to be impolite, but as they walked back out into the main room and the leasing agent started enumerating the age of each appliance in the efficiency kitchen, she was unable to stop herself any longer.

Wandering away from the kitchen, she pushed open one of the french doors, ignoring the creak, and stepped out onto the balcony. The leasing agent fell silent, having enough skill to know when to stop talking and let a place sell itself, and just watched as April stood silently on the pebbled concrete, taking it all in.

Even though the backyard was as neglected as the front, from up on the second floor the disorder looked appealing. Endearingly rough, instead of just unkempt. There was more ivy that had been let to wander all over, and thick tendrils of it wove in and around both the iron railing in front of the balcony, and the iron trellises that separated her balcony from those of her neighbors.

The Secret Garden had been one of April's favorites as a girl, and this view looked like a scene straight out of a more grown-up version of the book, where nature had broken out of it's careful upbringing in order to run free, wanton and wild, uncaring about any censure. It made her heart ache in her chest a little. Just gazing it at made her feel a little of the same, a tingle of nerve and the centered calmness of poise.

It was rare that April did anything without carefully thinking it through, rare that she made big changes in her life without the situation being close to ideal. The bedroom was tiny and dark, the kitchen range looked ancient, and from the front, the building looked well on its way to being haunted.

This place was not perfect, and April was not impulsive. Still, she turned around, and said simply, "I'll take it."

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**** Back to the Present Day ****

Several hours later, April sat dragged a dusty hand across her damp forehead, and with a sigh, sank down to sit on the floor of her new apartment, surrounded by empty boxes and clutter.

In the daylight, the living room didn't have the cozy magic that it had had at dusk, and she'd felt a little uneasy all day. At least the mess of her belongings had given her a distraction for awhile, but now almost everything was put away, and though she still had a half hour's worth of clean up left, she wasn't sure what she'd do with herself after that.

Gazing around the room, she realized that part of the reason it felt a little aloof is that, despite all her earnest daydreaming, it held nothing very personal. She'd stuck to practicalities in the last few days, making sure the big items she would need, like a bed, could be delivered today while she was here. She didn't regret it - she would sleep well tonight in the queen bed she'd splurged on, and even though she hadn't yet pushed the big sectional couch together - or even taken the plastic off, as she didn't want it to get covered in cardboard shavings - it was nice to know that she would be able to curl up on it with a cup of tea later.

But right now it was kind of depressing to be surrounded by walls that were empty except for being dotted by the now unlit - and dusty, April noted, her nose wrinkling as she made a mental note to take a broom to them later - sconces. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything in hours, and that there was nothing in the fridge.

She sighed, and staggered to her feet. Another half hour of cleanup, and she could take a shower, and wander out on the town to find art, groceries - and maybe some wine, to sip while she sat on the couch, instead of that cup of tea.

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