Month Nine

Blinking against the stream of sunshine, spilling in through the gap in the curtains, Jackson felt himself begin to groan inwardly.

It mustn't have been much later than 4, he deduced that from the warmth radiating around the room and he knew it was almost time to return to work. Of course, he hadn't slept a great deal, despite crashing into the mattress around eight hours previous. And what he had been afforded was light and fractured. He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to drag his body through another night in the ER, and through another few surgeries, no matter the size or work load involved. It almost felt like he was riding on a rollercoaster, barely afforded time to recapture his composure before the next loop approached them.

Stifling a yawn, he stretched the muscles in his back and shoulders across the mattress. It was at that very moment he noted the cool of the sheets beneath his skin. The last time had checked, April had been sleeping beside him and yet now she was nowhere to be seen? It did not make sense to him, considering the hour and the fact, she too, had endured a rather rough night in the ER and OR.

"April?" He called, sitting upright and leaning himself backwards against the headboard. "Babe, are you here?"

Silence, however, seemed to prevail, causing the young male to question himself and his wife's ability to leave without his knowledge.

With a sigh, and hefty amount of effort, he clambered from the sheets and grabbed his wife, pulling it on as he led himself into the kitchen of their apartment. It was here a noted a half empty glass of fresh juice and abandoned bagel. His wife's purse and jacket also remained by the door, a little more dishevelled than usual. She was still here it seemed.

"April, where are you?" He continued to probe, edging now toward the bathroom and peaking his head round the propped open door. Still she was nowhere to be seen.

Yet as he padded across from the bathroom, toward the second bedroom of their home, he noted this door also remained ajar and the scent of lavender filled his senses. "April?" He spoke again, pushing open the bedroom door and resting his eyes on his wife, in possibly the strangest of positions he had seen her before this moment. "What are you doing in here?" He asked, stepping more into the room now.

"Jackson, ssshhh." She scolded in a quiet voice, still on her knees with her hands clasped together at her chest, eyes shut tight.

"Are you praying?" He asked, clearly with some amusement in his tone.

Blinking against the grey of the room, lit by only the small candle burning on the small table she had set up by the back wall, April prised open her eyes and turned to catch sight of her husband. "I was."

Noting the annoyance in her tone, Jackson shrugged in response to his wife's retort.

"I wasn't expecting to find you here when I woke up, that's all."

"I thought I'd make use of the space." She told him, turning back to the flickering candle and small wooden cross before her. "After your mum being here, this room seems like a waste."

Jackson nodded, to himself more than anything, and continued to watch April for a few moments; he was marvelling at the ease she seemed to enthuse as she sat before the religious paraphernalia, something he never had been. Despite having been brought up surrounded by the importance of faith, in his personal and professional worlds, he was not a man that had ever been tempted by the guidance of another, whom some would say did not physically exist besides. He had always been a man of his own leadership, power and belief, much to the disapproval of his very Jewish mother and extended family.

"Is there something else I can help you with?" April asked him, noting his presence still behind her despite her eyes now closed once more. She did not like to be watched when she was in the midst of such a private moment.

"No, I erm… I'll just go and make dinner." He replied, taking a moment to drink in one last image of his wife, before he left the room and returned to the kitchen.

*/\*

"This smells amazing." April enthused, taking the second empty beside Jackson with clear eagerness. "I'm starving."

Jackson nodded and smiled, although not fully immersed by his wife's light and airy tone. The image of her sat before the cross with the candle earlier that evening, was still very much with him; though there was no definite reason, it seemed to have stuck with him and he could not shake the nagging feelings in the back of his mind. It was obvious the entire situation had brought on question and uncertainty. How could he not have noted just how glaring a handful of the severe difference were? He supposed he had been blinded by friendship when they had first met. Not once had he questioned her religion then, like he seemed to doing with himself at this very moment.

"Are you ok? You're quiet." She noted, twirling a forkful of spaghetti into position with ease. Maybe he was just tired? She knew she was. Jackson nodded, wiping his fork around in his dish, quiet unconvincingly. "Yeah, and I'm a pop-star!" April told him with a light tone, clearly not mislead by his apparent agreement. "I know you, Jackson Avery. Is something a matter?"

Jackson contemplated the question for a moment. Was he ok? Was something a matter? He wasn't sure if what had been clouding his thoughts, were even a relevant thing to discuss over a pasta dish before a night shift. Deep down, he knew there were things that did not need to be said, and things that should have been said before they spoke of their commitment to one and other in a marriage ceremony. Should he say them now? She was his wife, after all.

Putting down his fork, he sighed and turned himself a little to face April. "Does it bother you how different we are?" He asked her. This was a better way to approach the situation, right? He could ask, be told an answer, without fear of inciting a riot, surely?

"In what sense?" April queried, unsure of what her husband was asking of her.

"I… the whole religion thing for starters. Did we anger God when you decided to marry a Jewish boy?" He asked her, faltering against his own need for honesty now the question had been asked. "Nothing has exactly been easy since we got married."

April scoffed, now pacing down her own fork. "Jackson, what makes you ask that? You know our religions mean nothing when it comes to why we got married."

"April, before what happened between us at the boards, your religion was everything to you."

"But when it did happen, and then we got married… my whole view of my religion changed, Jackson."

"And yet I find you praying in our spare room?"

April sighed. "I pray still. I still have some faith, Jackson… I need it sometimes… you know, when things get tough."

Jackson's eyes widened at this comment. She used her faith in God to get her through when things were tough? Was that not supposed to be his position, as her husband?

"So you have more faith in a figure of imagination, when things get tough, than your own husband?"

"Jackson, you know I didn't mean it like that… and besides, he is not a figure of my imagination. He was here for me a long time before you… before all of this."

Her final comment plunged the couple into silence, as they both contemplated everything and the direction this conversation seemed to be leading them. What had possessed Jackson to speak? Yes, he had wanted answer his burning questions but now it seemed to be coming up like word vomit, quick and free flowing. And with every word, it felt like he was plunging a knife into his young wife's heart.

"April, I-"

"Do you not respect me, Jackson? Respect my faith?"

He was wary, aching and she was now using words he did not like the sound of. Respect? It had been a huge part of their wedding vowels, besides love and commitment. "Of course, I respect every single last inch of you, April." He replied, taking to his feet and collecting his half uneaten dinner plate. "I was just curious about your belief in Jesus. That was all."

"My involvement? You make it sound like a major criminal organisation." His wife told him, evidence of attitude as she spoke. "Did you not realise this was what you were getting when we got married? I'm a Jesus freak."

Dropping his dish into the sink, Jackson turned on his heel at her words. "You are not a Jesus Freak." He replied, surprised and hurt by how she seemed to making him seem. "And I know exactly what I signed up to when I married you."

April whipped her head round at this. "Then why are you suddenly talking about my faith, my commitment? Do you not like the fact I pray? Or that I support something other than my marriage and my career? That I don't listen to everything my mom tells me?"

"Please." He scoffed, colour rising in his cheeks. "This is not about my mom."

"No, Jackson, it is… because just like me with God, your mom is your support and the person you turn to when things get tough. You have no right to tell me that I don't choose to rely on your when I need someone, because let's be honest Jackson, you rely on everything that your mom has taught you and wouldn't dare want to deviate from those beliefs."

April was panting heavily now, clearly overworked by the argument that had enthused between herself and her husband. Finally, nine months after they said 'I do', she had finally be afforded the luxury of the truth from her husband, and return, told him a few home truths also. The cracks that were apparent in their stupid, rushed decision to get married were more evident than they had ever been. It was clarity; Catherine Avery had been right all along to question the choices the young couple had made. Neither of them had thought it through.

*/\*

"Can I say here for a while?"

Callie and Arizona exchanged looks, surprised by the sudden appearance of April Kepner on their doorstep. The younger surgeon's puffy eyes, reddened cheeks and dishevelled appearance clearly suggested that this was not a momentary choice, and that she really did need a place to rest herself.

Standing aside, the couple allowed April to step into their home with warm smiles, eyes swimming with concern. "Did you and Jackson have a fight?" Arizona asked, taking the bags from April's hands and settling at the foot of the stairs.

"I think… I think we broke up."