s13. April and Arizona attend trivia night and April returns drunk.
The sound of incessant knocking on the door causes Jackson to frown. Harriet is sound asleep, and the last thing he needs is for her to be woken up.
He knows that April has her key, but that it also seems a little early for her to be back from her night out with Arizona, so he's surprised when he answers the door and sees the pair of them standing them, giggling and struggling to remain upright.
He's unsure as to whether or not he should be amused by the sight of them, clearly drunk and happy, or annoyed that his ex-wife has shown up in such a state. She's allowed to enjoy herself after all, but it's also been a long time since he's really seen her let loose. The last time was probably after their board exams, when she'd tried dancing on the table and had shut him out. It looked like rock bottom then.
"I believe this belongs to you! Or, well, not anymore, but she does live here," Arizona states with a laugh, holding her friend upright when shoving her into the open doorway, "You miiight wanna get her some ice for that hand of hers. Very feral when drunk, this one."
"He deserved it!" April explains with a frown, wincing as she tries to stretch out her hand, "Some ice would be nice though. Ow."
Jackson just looks at the pair in slight disbelief, "Riiight. You gonna be okay to get home on your own, or do you need me to call you a cab?"
"Nooope, I'm fine! Already got that taken care of. Night, April!" The blonde chimes, wandering off down the hallway with a lot more composure and stability than she seemingly had before.
April practically throws herself on the couch as soon as she makes her way into the apartment, groaning almost immediately. She manages to perk up as soon as Jackson hands her a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen and it makes contact with her sore hand, offering a small amount of relief.
"So...you punched someone?" He chuckles as he sits down on the opposite end of the couch, finding it hard to not think about the time when she'd punched that guy on the night of the boards. It wasn't as if the guy hadn't deserved it, but it had also gotten Jackson punched which he hadn't been thrilled about. He'd seen a whole different side to the usually sweet and timid April that night, and he'd loved it.
"He was being gross! He kept asking us if we wanted to have a threesome with him...it was a lesbian trivia night!"
Her eyebrows crinkle, and he can't help but feel somewhat amused at how adorable she looks, until he remembers that she's just his ex-wife and the mother of his children now. He's not supposed to still be thinking about her in that way. He can't. Not when they're living together and trying to co-parent a child whilst under the same room. It'll only make things even more complicated.
"Sounds like a real jerk," He states, clearing his throat, "Sorry you had to deal with that."
It stirs something in him - something territorial and problematic, he thinks, because she's not his to rescue and protect anymore. He has to let her fight her own battles, and deal with the fact that maybe she'll have to deal with gross men from time to time, because he'd divorced her and they both can't remain single forever.
"Uh huh, he was! A real jerk," She repeats, trying to stretch the tendons of her swollen hand, "I'm sleepy. I'm just gonna...lie down for a sec."
He watches as she starts to adjust her position on the other side of the sofa, and quickly gets up to stop her. "Oh, no you don't. Come on, let's get you to bed."
The redhead wants to protest, but she's too tired, so instead, she accepts the hand that reaches out and allows him to help her up, resting far too much of her weight into his side as he attempts to keep her upright. He'd almost forgotten what a deadweight she could be when drunk, considering just how small she was. Abandoning the bag of frozen peas by placing them on the coffee table, she says, "Fineee. Lead the way, Jack-man."
Thankfully, he manages to get her to her the bathroom to wash up without much of a struggle, before guiding her to the guest bedroom she'd since claimed as hers. Despite the fact she was anxious about moving in with him, she's managed to make add a touch of April to the room in the months since - namely in the form of several throw pillows and a very floral duvet cover. When she finally manages to practically throw herself back on the bed, legs hanging over the end of it, she groans, and Jackson begins to feel awkward. They haven't really been in a bedroom together since the night Harriet was conceived, and he can't get that thought out of his mind.
He attempts to distract himself by grabbing her something to put on - an oversized t-shirt that sits half way down her thighs (and that definitely belonged to him at one point, but for some reason, still remained in her drawer). "You good? I'll uh, leave you to it."
"I can't. My hand hurts," She whines, tapping it gently with her other hand's ring finger. Jackson exhales, knowing full well that if he lets her fall asleep in the clothes she's currently wearing, that she'll complain about it come the morning. It's not as if he hasn't seen her in her underwear before, so when she adds, "Can you help me, pleaseee?" he feels as though he can't exactly say no. He's just being a good friend and housemate, he tells himself.
"Alright," He says, quickly ridding her of her t-shirt and jeans, whilst trying his best to be a gentleman and not focus on how soft her skin is, or the sight of the c-section scar that he hasn't seen before. She's so lovely, even when she's not trying to be, and he can't help but feel a twinge of regret at the reminder of what he's lost.
He manages to get her to sit upright for long enough to put the t-shirt on, before he pulls back the covers and guides her under them. She lets out a little sigh of content, and he exits the room for a moment to grab her a glass of water and some paracetamol for the morning, figuring she'll probably need it.
"Love you," She mumbles, and he's not exactly sure what she means by that, or if she'll even remember it in the morning, but he feels his heart soar at the drunken words.
"Love you too," He states back softly, mostly out of habit, but also, because he does love her still, and he thinks he's beginning to realise it. Maybe he's never really stopped.