Disclaimer - same as day 1
This fic was written with my lovely friend Ann (japril12 on tumblr)
Day 7 - Free choice
"No, there's shame,"
Jackson slaps his hand against his forehead as he goes over the events from earlier this evening. He was a complete and total jerk to April. There wasn't any other way to put it.
He should have stopped earlier today when everyone was exchanging their stories on how they lost their virginity. Jackson should have noticed that she didn't want to talk about it. April's reaction to his story was enough of a hint.
He left the bar shortly after April did. She didn't want to stay any longer after rightfully telling them all off. Even though she had revealed his not-quite-so peaceful nights to everyone he wasn't upset with her. If he was still having these nightmares, then it means everyone else must have heard him screaming and was just to creeped out or polite to say anything. And that fact just made him feel like a bigger jerk than before.
But Jackson couldn't believe that April Kepner hadn't had sex. Sure, he didn't associate her with having a bunch of casual, no-strings-attached hook ups. April seemed like a steady relationship kind of girl. He figured that before they met, perhaps in medical school or something she had had a boyfriend. She was a beautiful person so he was a little shocked that she hadn't experienced that with someone. Although, maybe Jackson shouldn't have been so interested in this at all. It wasn't any of his business anyway.
As soon as he enters the house, Jackson walks up the stairs and stops at the second door right.
"April, can we talk, please?" he says after knocking on the bedroom door gently. "I know that you're still awake."
He keeps his head on the door, straining to hear movement on the other side, but fails, "April, I'm sorry, okay? I feel awful."
He finally hears feet shuffling, and braces himself for her, when he hears the lock turn.
The door creaks as it opens and he's immediately confronted by an irritated looking April. She was dressed for bed in one of those pyjama sets where the top is plain but there's a pattern on the bottom. He glances at the faded butterflies that are scattered on the material and then takes in her wounded expression and he's instantly reminded why he's here.
"April-"
"You're sorry and you feel awful, yes, I heard you the first time. Anything else?"
He was a little shocked by her cold attitude. She was angry, yes, he could've seen that from her demeanour at the bar, but her tone was icy and she looked reserved.
"Look, I know you're mad at me, and I was a complete jerk, so I deserve it. I just, I didn't mean that." He admits, bowing his head.
"I know you didn't." She tells him, and he's surprised it took so little for her to believe him. "That's what makes it worse."
"What?"
"You didn't make fun of me for being a virgin, because you yourself believed it was something to be ashamed of. You might be a really crappy friend, but you're not a crappy person, I'll give you that." April folds her arms crossly. When she thinks about it all again she just feels even more heated. "You said those things because you wanted to fit in. You wanted them to like you so you jumped at the opportunity to make fun of me along with them."
"April, that's not true, I was just being an idiot."
"It is true, and you know it. I just, I don't know, Jackson, call me crazy, but I genuinely thought we were friends."
"We are! We are friends." he insists.
"No, we're not, because you don't do that to your friend. You don't throw them under the bus to suck up to the popular kids, because trust me, I've been there and done that, and I promised myself I would never do that again. If you want to be their friend, and get whatever kind of validation you so clearly love getting from them, well then go ahead. Just stop pretending you're my friend."
She slams the door in his face, and he stands there still reeling in from their conversation.
He couldn't deny it, because it was true. Yes, he was more comfortable with the fact that he was being included in the group. Contrary to popular belief, Jackson Avery wasn't good at making friends or at least genuine ones, those came few and far between. Fake friends were the more common occurrence, mostly because of the weight his name carried, his looks and other details about his life that honestly, he couldn't give a damn about.
It was why he didn't bother with making friends in the first place, they usually just ended up being connections anyway and in his world, from what is grandfather had painstakingly prodded into his brain, that was all what mattered in life and he should get used to it.
The truth was Jackson didn't really make any friends until he started his residency. And while some things he had expected people being in awe of the name Avery was one of them. There were other discoveries Jackson were pleasantly surprised about. And that was April. Funnily enough, she did ask about it once and both annoyed and stunned him that out of all his relatives she'd asked him about his mother. (Of course, his mother would but her way into his genuine friendship). The one who wasn't born into it and who worked hard for everything she had
April told him that she was an inspiration. She didn't pander to him or praise him for every little thing he did like so many others did. He had finally met someone he could be relaxed around.
This just made him feel all that much more of a jackass. April was the only one in that whole group that had been there for him completely, during the shooting, and even before that. They'd known each other for years, and she had always been a kind, loyal and caring friend, and this is how he'd thanked for that.
He thinks about knocking on her door again, and explaining things to her, but he figures right now, she needed her space. He'd apologise again in the morning. He shuffles down the hallway to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As soon as he enters his room, he strips off his clothes and falls into bed wearing his underwear.
He's alone.
That how it always begins. Jackson stands unaccompanied in the middle of the OR, no attendings, no scrub nurses. It's just him and an assortment of sterile surgical instruments and other various medical apparatus. There's no body on the operating table but an unplugged heart monitor taunts him, the ringing beeps increase in their level of noise each one after the other.
He should know that it's not real, that he's dreaming. That this isn't the hospital and he'll wake up. But it never happens, instead the screaming starts.
He flees the room and runs towards the sound of the cries filling his senses, they're relentless and deafening. He slows down and rips the surgical mask of his mouth when he finds it hard to breath. He didn't even know he had it on.
He turns a corner and almost trips on a trail of blood. Jackson puts his hands out in front of him to break his fall. It's only then he notices the wails turn from male to female.
"Jackson!"
April?
"April!" he tears down the hall once he makes the distinction.
This is real?
He reaches the main waiting area of the hospital and sees April standing face to face with a faceless shooter. But when he takes a step forward but something blocks him from getting to her.
"April!"
She to look at him but before she can get away three loud bangs go off and all he sees is blood.
Everywhere.
"April!"
April's blood as she falls to the floor in a fragile heap.
"Jackson, Jackson, wake up," he looks up to see April standing over him, her cool hand touching his face softly. She looks down at him with wide eyes. "It's okay, I'm fine. It was just a dream."
"Sorry I…" Jackson takes a harsh breath and swallows audibly. His mouth is insanely dry and his throat burns.
"No, no it's okay. I heard you," April gestures, throwing her thumb over her shoulder with a grimace.
He nods, understanding that she was referring to the fact that she'd heard him scream, like she had every night since the shooting. It had been the first dream he'd seen where it was her getting shot and not Charles, or Reed. Strangely enough, this had scared him a lot more than the others had.
She sits by his bed, and offers him a sip of water, from the bottle he keeps on his nightstand. He smiles, gratefully, and takes a few sips as she nervously fidgets. She's uncomfortable he can tell. She hasn't forgiven him yet, not that he deserved to be, so this must be awkward for her. He appreciates her coming even after all the hurt he'd caused her. Unlike him, April Kepner was an excellent friend. He might not deserve her after all.
He puts the bottle back in its place, and she goes to stand up.
"Well, I'll go back then." she nods, and starts walking back towards the door.
"Can you stay?"
She turns back, looks at him, probably wondering if he'd actually said that. He was a little surprised himself. He hadn't meant to ask her that. He'd just been thinking about how safe he'd felt when she was here, and how nice it felt to know he had someone like April Kepner on his side. Well, if she forgave him, that is. Regardless, there was something warmer about the bed, when April sat on it.
"Jackson, I-" She chews on her bottom lip, seemingly unsure. Of course, she didn't want to. They weren't that close of friends yet, and he wasn't her favourite person right now. She just came in here to be polite.
"You know what forget it. It's stupid, you don't hav-"
She hesitates for a second, before she shrugs her shoulders and slips into the bed, and rests her head on the pillow. He notices that she keeps a safe distance between the two of them, and he muses whether this is the first time she's shared a bed with a man.
"It wasn't the same as the ones before, was it?"
He looks at her, and gently nods.
"You said my name…" she almost says it to herself, wondering why he was possibly having nightmares about her.
"I saw you this time, getting shot I…" she shakes his head, willing the memories of his dreams out of his mind.
"What did you see?" She asks him, shifting her body to closer to his.
"You got shot, and you were bleeding. There was… there was a lot of blood. And you were screaming I was trying to get to you, and I couldn't," Jackson studies her face as he talks, he's at least relieved that she doesn't look at him pitifully. She gets it. "It's like, you how sometimes in dreams you're running towards something, but the moment you get closer something just stops you and you can't go further?"
"Yeah, I know. I hate it when that happens." she says.
"April, listen, I'm sure you're sick of hearing me say this, but I really am sorry. If I could take it back, I would. You have nothing to be ashamed of." He admits, and he looks at her eyes focus deeply on his, "You're right. I was a really shitty friend. I don't really deserve your friendship, but I hope you give me another chance."
April is quiet but at least she's not yelling at him.
"I haven't got much experience in the friendship department." He admits, out loud, for the first time ever.
April's brows come together in confusion. Back at Mercy West he practically had a flock of people hanging onto his every word. "What do you mean?"
"I've never had a lot of friends," he tells her and she scoffs in that way that where her whole upper body moves and it never fails to make him laugh. "What it's true!"
"So, I've found out your secret shame?" she raises an eye brow, her scepticism dissipating.
"Hey, I can be complex," he jokes and April giggles and hits him, her hand connects with his chest instead of the sheet which has dropped a bit lower. He notices her blush and pulls it up higher over the both of them. "People were only interested in me because of what I could offer them. It was never about anything else."
He watches her contemplate this. He really hopes she lets him in once more. It took him seeing her shot and bloody to realise that out of everyone left at Seattle Grace, April was the only one he actually cared about, and he could bet she felt the same way about him. It was probably why she was so hurt with what he did.
"It's okay." she mumbles, and he almost misses it.
"Really?" he blinks.
"Yes," April whispers and laughs much more loudly this time when he makes an exaggerated relived expression and he knows that they're okay now, "I forgive you."
"Good, that's good."
"I'm sorry too," she mutters, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket, "I shouldn't have told everyone about your nightmares, it's really personal and it wasn't right, no matter how upset I was."
She would be the type to apologise for something like that. He appreciated it more than she knew, "It's okay. I mean, I deserved it, anyway. I forgive you."
She beams at him, and for the first time it occurs to him how absolutely beautiful April was when she smiled. A comfortable silence settles over them, and he yawns, feeling the sleepiness settle back in. He perks up, however, at the sound of her voice.
"I was so scared that you were hurt. I had already seen Reed… dead, and I just kept thinking how I had to find you because I had to make sure you were alive. I couldn't lose two of my people in one day." Her voice is low, but there is an unmistakable heaviness to it. She's trying her best not to cry.
He brings his hand up to her face, and takes her chin in between his fingers, lifting her face up to meet his. He wonders whether this gesture is too intimate, but he knows that tonight has made them both aware that they are, by circumstance and choice, each other's person.
"You know Charles is… was my best friend, but when I heard about the shooter, the first person I thought about was you. I just wanted to know if you were fine, alive," he says, and she widens her eyes, clearly not expecting him to reveal this, "You were my favourite."
He softly chuckles at how it sounds, but it's true. He's always been very protective of April, and although tonight was an exception he'd like to forget, a part of had always been relieved that it was April who'd survived too.
His laugh drowns out when he sees tears in her eyes. Shit, he must have said something that was over the line. Maybe all this was too much for her, because they were just acknowledging their place in each other's lives, or maybe she thinks he's lying. His actions haven't lately been speaking louder than his words.
"April, I'm sorry, did I say something wrong, I-"
"No, no… you didn't, I just… miss them both so much."
He sighs, and pulls her towards him. He holds her, and rubs her back as she weeps silently into his shirt. He holds her there all the way through the night, until sleep claims them both.
Jackson wakes up to feeling of April's hair tickling his face. He turns his head and looks at the wide expanse of cool mattress next to him and then back down at April sleeping soundly on top of him. The sight is enough to make his lips turn up.
He doesn't know how they got this way but he's not at all bothered by her presence. It's a pleasing affirmation knowing that April was holding him close through the night. They would definitely be okay.
He sighs contentedly thinking about how their relationship hasn't been affected by tragic events. Their legs rest tangled together under the sheets and he feels her arm move from his abdomen, upwards to drape on top of his shoulder. Jackson breathes the scent of her hair in and she pulls him closer.
Jackson shifts his hips a little and its only then his attention moves from April to acknowledge the fact that all this blood has rushed to the south of his body, as like any other morning.
"Oh crap," he whispers.
April mutters nonsensically, not understanding his distress. She releases a little sound from the back of her throat and it does nothing to quell his situation, if anything it just spurs it on even more. Then she moves her leg and the inside of her thigh brushes against him. He knows if he moves he'll wake her up but staying in the position that they're in isn't at all better. But April feels so soft against him and smells so good, dawn is breaking and its quiet, maybe they could stay like this.
If something feels this good it can't be bad, can it? No, no these thoughts were bad, very bad indeed.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, it's then that April takes the opportunity to wake up. She plants a hand in his bare chest to sit up more and smiles down at him sleepily, still oblivious. Jackson wishes he could return it, he's not sure if he believes in God but if He was up there then he must be laughing at him.
He watches in a quiet panic as her expression changes from serene to red-faced. Yep, she's felt it. He's thankful that his complexion saves him from such physical evidence of embarrassment. She goes to get off him and struggles somewhat, the sheets aren't helping and then April gestures to him.
"Jackson,"
"Oh sorry," he apologises moving his arms from around her waist. He didn't even notice that he was still touching her, it felt so natural.
She separates herself from him but stays sat on the bed. April makes sure she keeps her eyes on his face and not the sheet. She feels her face warm up and bites her lower lip. The atmosphere in the room shifts, and all he can do is stares down at her mouth. He hears her breath hitch, and he's happy to know he's not the only one who feels this unbearable tension that's settled over them. He leans into to capture her lips, cupping her cheek and she opens her mouth slightly to welcome him.
Just as he relishes in the feeling of the softness of her lips on his own, the alarm clock blares beside him. He curses, and she groans almost angrily. They stare at each other and begin to laugh, happy that the feeling is mutual.
"Do you maybe, I don't know, want to hit snooze?" he asks, tentatively.
She beams, and her face flushes almost immediately, probably shy about her enthusiasm.
"Yes, please."
Just wanted to thank every single one of you who took the time to read these one shots. And thank you so so so much for all the wonderful reviews, they absolutely made the writing easier. Happy Japril Week and let's hope they rise!
Let me know what you thought :)