Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the first part, personal messages to those who did are on the way! Again, this fic is un-beta'ed. I've reread it enough times to make my eyes cross so if there are still mistakes, know that I tried to find and fix them! Here is the second and final half of this two-shot! Enjoy.

Here be Dragons

2

He'd stayed. Rented a room at The Four Seasons indefinitely, unpacked is bags and stayed.

The slant of light coming through the heavy curtains, casting across his bed was different from the light in Paris. It was more urgent, less relaxed. It was Seattle sunlight reminding him that he had remained and not run back to his other life once he'd signed the divorce papers and handed them back to Catherine.

He needed the constant reminder of the different slant of light to get him through his doubts, which came every morning, so instead of shutting the curtains completely every night, he left them open a crack so that when morning came and the realization that he was still here set in, he didn't get the urge to flee. The light steadied him, kept him focused on his goal of forming a relationship with his son. That, admittedly, hadn't gotten very far. He was more than two months in and hadn't made much headway.

As deserved as that treatment may be, it still stung that he continually made strides only to say one wrong thing and find himself back at square one. Every day he wrestled with the urge to flee and the desire to dig his heels in and fight the good fight, to forge a lasting relationship with Jackson.

If he had it to do over again, he wouldn't have been the selfish ass that he'd been, so mixed up in his own wants that he'd completely forgotten about the wants of the child he'd left behind. He would have been a presence in Jackson's life, he would have gone on those Boy Scouts camping trips and to the little league games, and he would have been there when Jackson got his first girlfriend with helpful advice. He wouldn't have missed graduation or his son's wedding and he certainly wouldn't be laying in a hotel room full of would'ves.

Harper threw his legs over the side of the bed and rested his forearms on his knees. His mind raced. He needed to find a way to get an in with Jackson as he was quite tired of being on the outside.

"So, what did you do?"

"April, there you are." Catherine looked up from her paperwork. She had been expecting her daughter-in-law to show up sooner or later.

"Yes, here I am. So…?"

Catherine slid off her reading glasses and clasped her hands together, taking in the redhead ball of pent up frustration in front of her. "Has the sex stopped along with the communication?" Catherine inquired.

April (still embarrassed by the mention of sex even after all this time) blushed a deep crimson. Catherine watched the woman before her steady herself like she was going into battle, the blush fading and a steeliness taking its place. Impressive.

"If you must know, no, that seems to be our only method of communication lately."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes, good. You're still connecting."

April flailed her arms. "It's only physically. I could be anybody!" Her voice rose, touched with a bit of hysterics.

Catherine tilted her head, intrigued with the slight bulge to April's lower abdomen that she'd exposed when she raised her arms. "You don't believe that, do you?"

April plopped down at the table. "No. No, I don't."

"April, are you pregnant?" Catherine had always been a straight shooter. She didn't believe in beating around the bush. If she wanted to know something, she asked.

April, who never failed to give herself away when faced with a direct question, couldn't look her in the eye. "What? I - why would you-" She tugged at her scrub top self consciously.

"So that would be a yes." Catherine leveled her stare on April, and nodded once, slowly.

"Fine, yes, I'm pregnant."

Catherine tried to bite back her smile but she failed miserably. She'd wanted little baby Avery's ever since her son got married and now she was finally getting one. Catherine grabbed April's hands. "Congratulations," she whispered.

April, for the first time since she entered the boardroom, smiled. "Thank you." Her voice was excited so Catherine knew that the baby, no matter how inopportune the timing may be, was welcomed.

Catherine took her hands back and propped her reading glasses back on her nose, focusing her attention on the papers before her (though still inwardly jumping up and down at the thought of becoming a grandmother). "I'm assuming my son doesn't know, which only shows how foolish he's become."

"He doesn't know. I've tried telling him so many times but trying to talk to him always seems to turn into an argument or-" April shifted uncomfortably, "sex."

If Catherine could, she would ship Harper back to France herself. His ability to ruin perfectly good people and relationships was unbelievable. She should have never brought him back, that had been her mistake. "I'm working on something now. Hopefully it will require Harper to leave sooner rather than later."

"Can I ask what it is?"

Catherine shook her head definitively. "No. You're keeping enough secrets as it is."

Something was different about his wife. Jackson couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he stared at her openly from his spot at the breakfast bar trying to figure it out.

April buzzed around the kitchen: beating eggs, scrambling them, popping bread into the toaster, frying bacon - completely oblivious to his observation. The pajama shirt she was wearing was unusually tight or had she gained weight? He didn't know, though he wouldn't frown upon her picking up a few pounds being that he worried about her sometimes; if she was eating enough, if she was feeling well, sleeping enough. She looked increasingly tired, faint, dark crescents kissed right under her eyes. She covered them well with makeup, but now, fresh faced and in her element, he could see them clearly.

"You feeling okay?" he asked, biting into a hot piece of bacon that she'd slid onto his plate.

"Yeah, fine, why?" She turned away, busying herself with the rest of breakfast.

"Sounded like you were sick this morning… in the bathroom." Jackson knew that she was trying to be discrete by running water, but he could still make of the muffled sounds of sickness from behind the door.

April set the knife she was using to butter toast down. She faced him, steadying her gaze in an unsettling way. "Jackson, I have something to talk to you about."

"April, I really don't want to do this right now. We're having a good morning, I don't want to ruin it by talking about my father."

"Everything is not about your father, Jackson, or you for that matter."

He swallowed hard, the once delicious bacon souring in his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was argue. He'd had enough of it to last a lifetime. "April-" His pager went off 9-1-1.

"The hospital?" April asked.

Actually it was his father. "No. It's Harper."

April huffed her dissatisfaction and turned her back on him.

"April," Jackson pleaded.

"Just go," she said. "'We both know you want to."

If someone could look into Jackson's brain this is what they'd see:

A rope. April at one end, Harper at the other. One yanked, the other pulled. And he (the rope, fraying from the stress) stretched tautly in-between them.

Jackson resisted the urge to go take April in his arms and make things right, because that's never what happened when he did. They had created a pattern where April asked questions, he avoided or changed the subject, she got upset, he comforted and they fell into bed, or an on call room or the table, couch, wall - wherever the closet place was that they could get to and rip each other apart with no intention of putting the other back together.

"When I get back, we'll talk," he promised hollowly.

It didn't surprise him that April didn't acknowledge his goodbyes anymore.

Harper checked his watch anxiously. Where was Jackson? He'd made sure to send an urgent message, because time was currently of the essence.

He tapped his fingers over a manilla folder, practically thrumming with excitement. He'd finally done it, he'd figured out a way to bring Jackson closer. In a twist of kismet, the answer had all but fallen into his lap with a case of conjoined twins that would need extensive plastic surgery after they were separated. The scouting for this case was underway and it had been sent to him as a way to get Avery backing. Harper had no interest in using the name himself, but Jackson could not only use the Avery name but his talent as well And, selfishly, Harper knew that it would also give him the opportunity to finally bond with his son one on one.

Harper knew that his time in Seattle was nearing it's end. More and more he felt the walls closing in on him. The doctors at Grey-Sloan knew that he was an Avery and they were beginning to expect things from him, medical miracles, expertise - and he had none to give. He didn't have the drive or desire to live up the the family name and the more it was wanted of him, the more he felt the pressure to leave.

But if he was going, this time he wouldn't leave Jackson behind as a memory. Even if he had to talk him into this case to do it, Harper was determined to connect with his son.

Jackson entered the restaurant and found his father easily. "Hey," he greeted, taking his seat.

"Hello, son."

It still sounded strange hearing Harper call him "son" but every time he said it, it became less so. "So what's going on, you paged me 9-1-1?"

"I have an opportunity for you."

"Okay." Jackson was ready for him to get to the point. He had left April behind to be here because he thought it was something important.

Harper slid a folder across to table. Jackson curiously picked it up and went through it's contents. "Whoa."

"Exactly."

"These twins are going to face severe facial abnormalities," Jackson commented flipping page after page. "I don't know if I've ever seen anything like it."

"They're only three years old. Jackson, you could help them."

Jackson narrowed blue-green eyes on his father, shaking his head. "It says here that they can't travel."

"No, but you can."

The case was undoubtedly groundbreaking. Whoever preformed the life changing surgery on these twins would become renowned. He could make the lives of these two boys' better, but… "I can't leave right now. I have April and the hospital. I can't just pick up and go."

"Why not?"

"Because I have responsibilities. You know, people who count on me at work, my wife."

"And a baby on the way," Harper added evenly, like he understood completely.

"What are you talking about?" Jackson demanded, confused.

"You don't know," his father said, realization showing on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Jackson leaned across the table. "Know what?"

"April is pregnant."

Jackson felt like his world had just shifted on its axis. He was completely off center. "How would you know?" He demanded.

Harper glanced around uncomfortably at the attention they were beginning to draw from nearby diners. "One day a month ago, I think, I had coffee with April. She dropped her bag, her stuff fell out and there was a blood test; I picked it up for her and saw what it was for."

Jackson pushed away from the table, standing on unsure legs that felt like they'd give at any moment. A blood test? A month ago?

He didn't believe it. It couldn't be true. She was on birth control. April would have told him.

He needed air.

The groundbreaking case was left lying on the table forgotten and Jackson hadn't bothered saying goodbye to his father.

The door to their apartment slammed hard, jerking April from her sleep. That was all she ever wanted to do now and anywhere would do. On call rooms were for sleeping, the Attending's lounge was good for a power nap if she got a comfortable chair, she'd recently fallen asleep on a gurney behind a trauma room curtain, and her bed, her glorious bed, she fell into it every chance she got.

April sat up in bed just as Jackson stormed into their room.

"Do you have something to tell me?"

"What?" April asked in genuine confusion. Her husband was angry and pacing and she wondered what had gotten him that way and of course she knew it had to be his father. "Is this about Harper?"

"No, April, it's about you. It's about us."

"Jackson -"

Her words were cut off when Jackson sat down on the bed and shoved his hand under her shirt.

Oh no.

He placed his palm low on her belly, against the firm bump that was just starting to protrude. He stayed like that for a long time and April was too shocked to move. How had he found out?

"I can explain," she said after a while.

"Try."

"Jackson, you've been so distant."

He removed his hand. "Stop using that excuse. I'm here, April. I wake up with you, I shower with you, I work with you, I go to sleep with you… I fuck you."

April turned her head away at his harsh words. "You haven't been yourself since he showed up."

"Oh you mean my father. The man who told me you were pregnant. I had to find out from him about my wife, about my child. Do you know how that feels?"

"I had no idea he knew."

"You were supposed to be on birth control after the... you were supposed to be on birth control."

"I was but it made me get these horrible headaches so I stopped."

"Without telling me. Were you trying to get pregnant?"

"I wasn't not trying!" April left the bed and stood in front of him. "I didn't think it would be a problem. If I'd known that Harper Avery Junior would show up and mess everything up, I would have suffered through the migraines."

"The only one who messed up here is you."

April jerked back at the accusation.

"That's not fair, Jackson."

He walked past her. This time she didn't follow. April listened as their front door opened and slammed closed before collapsing onto the bed and dissolving into a fit of tears.

It was time for him to leave. Time to face facts, accept that he'd failed, and leave.

At least he'd go knowing that he'd tried, that was better than never trying at all, he reasoned.

Harper walked into Grey-Sloan Memorial for the last time. The hospital was alive. It practically buzzed with life. There was genius in these halls, legacy everywhere. He could have thrived in a place like this if he'd wanted, with people like these. He could have found his place had his life taken him here, but he'd chosen a different path and had ended up somewhere else, doing things that weren't all that amazing, surrounded by people who weren't all that interesting.

He didn't regret his choices, they were his cross to bear, but he did regret how he went about making them.

"You're still here."

Harper smiled at the sound of Catherine's voice. She wasn't pleased to see him in the least.

He turned, hands in pants pockets, as Catherine closed the boardroom door. "I came to say goodbye."

She rose her brows in question. "Leaving so soon? But it's only been a long three months, not the three days it should have been."

"I'm sure it's been torture having me here."

"The worst kind. The kind of torture that grabs at your heart and twists." Catherine displayed this by balling her fist up tightly and turning her wrist. "You've done a number on him," she said, dropping her hand.

"It wasn't my intent."

"It never is."

"Here we go again."

Catherine conceded, backing down, sighing heavily. "So, what takes you away. Anything important?"

"I -" Harper paused, thinking, realizing. He dropped his stare to Catherine. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"What was me?"

"The case I received, you were behind it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You have always been a horrible liar."

"What if it was me? You should be thankful that I sent something so amazing your way."

Harper chuckled low. "The irony is that I didn't want it. I saw it as a way to bond with Jackson and get him out of the country for a while, nothing more."

"You what?"

"Don't worry, that blew up in my face. I ended up telling him that April was pregnant. I doubt I'll see him again."

His wife (because she still was until the papers went through) looked possessed. "He knows?"

"He does now, yes."

"Damn-it, and damn you, Harper Avery."

Jackson knew he wasn't blameless. He knew April had been trying to talk to him for months and that something was off. He'd just been too wrapped up in his own drama to notice exactly what it was. He knew all of that but it didn't alleviate his anger. He was mad at April, mad that she'd stopped taking the pill after the last baby had left them broken, mad that she'd been keeping the fact that she was pregnant to herself, mad that he was mad her.

And embarrassed. How could Harper know before him? How could he have found out in such a humiliating way. Not knowing that your wife, the woman you sleep next to, is pregnant enough to be showing (if he'd cared to notice) was as bad as it got.

Jackson stormed through the hospital looking for the quiet, empty safety of the boardroom. It was where he went to think when he needed solitude and that was what he needed now: complete and total silence. He needed to think about where he'd screwed up and how he'd done it so royally that his own wife had been keeping her pregnancy from him.

His phone buzzed, he saw April's name pop up and he turned the sound off. He couldn't deal with it. Not now. Later.

Jackson entered the boardroom just in time to hear the tail end of his mother cursing his father to Hell.

It was more the surprise of seeing both of his parents together in a room, than the choice words his mom had for his father, that froze him in place. He couldn't remember ever seeing them side by side anywhere other than pictures that dated so far back, he wasn't even born when they were taken. Jackson, already smarting from finding out that April was pregnant, wasn't sure he could take another shock in the same day. But here he was anyway, stunned stupid.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Jackson said warily. He closed the door. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Catherine denied too quickly.

"The truth!" Jackson ordered. He'd yelled and he never yelled, most certainly not at his mother. Jackson pressed a hand to his eyelids. He was exhausted, he was tense, and he was tired of being lied to.

"The truth is-" Harper started.

"It's nothing," Catherine insisted.

"Mom," Jackson laughed humorlessly. "I can't take another lie today."

"The truth is that I came to Seattle to sign divorce papers," his father confessed.

Jackson's head was spinning. "Wait, what? Who's getting divorced?"

"We are," Catherine answered, flatly, like she knew the jig was up.

Jackson dropped down into his chair. He was two seconds away from having a full-on tantrum in front of his parents as a grown man. "I don't believe this."

Really, he didn't care that his parents were still married or getting divorced, it didn't matter to him at all. He did, however, care that it seemed that without this marriage and now divorce, Harper would have never returned.

"Who else knows?" Jackson already knew the answer so when his mom told him 'Richard and April' there was no shock, no surprise, no wonderment. Of course, April knew. Of course, everyone knew. Everyone but him.

"Can you two just go?"

"Baby-"

"Mom, go."

Catherine huffed herself out of the room, mumbling about how bad of an idea it had been to bring Harper back into their lives.

"Son, I feel like I made a mess of things here and I've outstayed my welcome." When Jackson didn't say anything, he kept going. "I'm leaving because it's for the best, but the case I showed you, it's still an option if you want to get away for a while and do something really special. And if you ever want to really talk, you know where to find me now." Harper clasped a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "Bye, son."

When the soft click of the door closing sounded behind him, Jackson bowed his head into his hands, the unfamiliar burn of tears stinging at his eyes.

A full day had gone by and April hadn't heard a word from Jackson.

She'd called the hospital to ask for a week of emergency leave which they had granted without too many questions. Then she called Catherine, only to find out that on top of the baby omission, Jackson now knew that she'd also been keeping Catherine and Harper's not being divorced from him, too.

April knew that Jackson was furious with her and for good reason, but she wanted him back home. She wanted him to hear her out and she wanted him to be willing to open up to her. She wanted them to work things out. That's all she wanted.

By the time the next afternoon rolled around, April's emotions had run the gamut. She fluctuated between blaming Harper for ruining her marriage, knowing that if he'd never shown up, none of the drama would have ensued.

Then she'd feel like that wasn't completely fair because Jackson was capable of making his own decisions. He'd decided that he wasn't going to express to her what he was going through, he'd decided to take it all on himself, he'd decided to push her away and he'd decided to leave and not pick up his stupid phone.

And since she was blaming Jackson, she might as well put some well deserved blame on herself and accept that her actions had played a part. She'd lied, plain and simple, and she hadn't needed to. Not telling Jackson about the baby or about finding out that Catherine and Harper were still married was all on her.

They'd made a really big mess of things, so big, in fact, that April wondered if they'd ever be able to fix it. That thought sent April spinning. She couldn't imagine a life without Jackson as her husband, she didn't want to think that they'd never find their way again.

Heartbroken and at a loss of where to turn, April broke down and called her mother. She explained everything through sobs and hiccups. Karen Kepner was nothing short of amazing, April had alway known it, but she showed it so purely in the way that she didn't judge or blame or bring up how hasty April had gotten married to Jackson or chastise April over not telling her about her pregnancy. She was encouraging and understanding and she reminded April of the virtue that patience was and implored her to remember that. She also offered to come to Seattle if April needed her, which April did but felt it was best that she worked her marriage problems out on her own like a grown up.

Thankful and spent from the conversation and stress, April fell asleep on the couch with her phone in her hand. Somewhere in the hours between dusk and dawn, her husband had come home. He'd picked her up and carried her to their bedroom, placing her gently on the bed. He'd kissed her forehead, and moved her hair back. "I'm sorry," April said sleepily.

"I know, me too," was his reply.

Somewhere in the back of her hazy, dream-filled mind April knew they would work things out. Jackson was back, that was all the hope she needed.

April woke up the next morning ready to start anew, but found that there was no one to start with.

Her husband was gone.

Catherine Avery was fuming as she walked the hallowed halls of Grey-Sloan. Her son had just up and left his pregnant wife without so much as a word. No note, no call, no nothing. It was like the wedding all over again. No, it was worse than the wedding. At least when her son had interrupted April's wedding and ran off to elope, Catherine knew where to find him so she could give him a piece of her mind. This time she had no idea where he was and he wasn't answering his phone; it had sent her into a tailspin. Damn that Harper Avery Junior for messing everything up.

She found Dr. Owen Hunt standing at the whiteboard.

"Dr. Hunt."

"Hello, Dr. Avery."

"Where is my son?"

He lowered his poised writing hand to his side. "I- I don't know. Should I?"

"He had to go through the board to take leave. What was his reason?"

Owen shrugged. "He didn't give a reason. He only told us that he needed extended leave."

Extended leave. Catherine was seeing red. "And you signed off on it?"

"The whole board did. I'm sorry, Dr. Avery, is there a problem?"

Was there a problem? YES, she wanted to scream. Her baby (her son) was gone. He'd run off to who-knew-where to do who-knew-what. That was a problem.

Catherine pulled herself together, forcing the ire that was bubbling and threatening to explode from her back down. She straightened her shoulders and took on an air of composure. "No, Dr. Hunt. Thank you for your time."

Her phone went off as Owen turned back to the board putting doctors into little rectangular surgery boxes.

It was her daughter-in-law. She'd lost track of the amount of times April had called her over the past few days. Whether it be in tears or calm and collected with ideas of where Jackson might be, or to rip into her for bringing Harper Avery back into their lives; Catherine had encountered at least 6 sides of April Kepner-Avery and she had a hunch that there was even more to her than that. It scared her how little she knew about her daughter-in-law. Who knew April was so passionate? Catherine would commend her if the circumstances weren't so severe.

"April," Catherine answered, turning her back on Hunt who looked interested when he heard April's name. Her daughter-in-law had also taken an unexpected leave of absence and the whole hospital knew that it wasn't with her husband.

He called, was all Catherine had to hear to calm her wired nerves.

"Tell me everything," she said, in search of a private corner.

April always knew that she was an emotional person, though she didn't know quite how emotional a person she could be until she and her best friend in the whole world were on the outs.

The first time it happened, she'd gone home and consumed a whole carton of ice-cream, watched old romantic movies and quoted them through confused sobs. She put on a brave face at work, but it hurt really, really bad to see him move on with someone else.

The next time she didn't let herself wallow in her upset, she moved on. She went back to another man - after telling Jackson he was the one she wanted - and proposed to said other man. To this day, she couldn't even remember the words she'd used to ask Matthew to marry her. It had all been said in such a whirlwind of emotion and a touch of resentment for Jackson not accepting her, that she wondered if it had made any sense.

This time, she didn't know how to react so she reacted in a million different ways. Sometimes she cried, sometimes she threw things, sometimes she didn't do anything at all. She was angry at herself, at Jackson (and sometimes in her most private thoughts, at God) which made her feel horrible.

April couldn't understand how something as precious to her as her marriage could fall down around her and she be helpless to do anything to stop it. She prayed all the time it felt like, not asking for God to fix it because that's not how prayer worked, but for Him to see her through the mess her life had become. She needed Him now more than ever.

And then one day Jackson called. The number that showed up was unknown with too many digits to be anywhere within the United States but April knew it was him. She hit 'talk' and waited for him to speak.

"April."

His voice felt warm but sounded so far away. She closed her eyes, letting the familiarity wash over her. "Jackson."

"I miss you."

April's brows scrunched together. "Then come home."

"I - I can't. Not yet."

"Where are you?"

"That's not important."

"Yes, it is." She felt her anger rising. "It's important Jackson. Are you in Paris?" He was quiet but she could hear his breathing on the other end. "Just come home." April hated how desperate she sounded. "Please."

"I will, but there's something I have to do first."

"What's that?"

"Just know I love you and I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Jackson-"

The call ended abruptly. April stood in a stunned state, staring at her phone for an unaccountable amount a time.

She got that Jackson was mad that she'd kept the baby a secret and he was messed up over his dad's reentrance into his life, but he didn't get to run off because of it. He didn't get to disappear and not let her know why. He'd left her, he'd left their family. April didn't know if she could ever forgive him for it.

Jackson had once been accused of being impulsive. At the time he wouldn't have admitted to it, but the truth was, he could be. The biggest events in his life were often spontaneous. Applying to medical school, deciding to go into the Mercy West program over Mass Gen, sleeping with April, interrupting her wedding, running off to get married. They were all things he'd really wanted and never regretted, but had put absolutely no thought into before acting on.

He could now add leaving Seattle and flying to Paris, France to his list of impulsive moves.

It was only supposed to be for a few days but it had turned into almost a week and he had no set date of return. He spent his days at his father's practice, sometimes seeing patients, sometimes filing or improving on his rusty French. But most of his time was spent moping around The City of Love. He missed April so badly he ached with it. He hadn't known it was possible to miss someone as much as he missed his wife, and all he had to do to fix it was to go home.

Go home.

Go home.

Go. Home.

The mantra repeated in his head over and over. It thrummed, it buzzed, it chanted as though every fiber of his being knew that he was making an epic mistake, but still he remained - unable to leave without finding the answer he was looking for. The problem was, he had no idea what the question was that would give him his answer.

Jackson sat behind his father's desk flipping through files. There were no captivating cases, just patients with various ailments, most easily alleviated with an aspirin, a shot or some cream. He wondered how Harper had left surgery for this?

Looking around the tiny office, seeing Harper's life before him, should have made Jackson feel an understanding for his father. The reality was that all he felt was pity. There was nothing to this life, no pictures on his desk, no awards on his walls, no accolades, no cool surgeries lined up on his calendar. Jackson had spent his whole life thinking of his father as this larger than life figure, as a hot shot who'd ran off to live life on the fringe, performing miracles in third world countries, joining Doctors Without Boarders, doing something, anything other than this.

It was hard to compute his disappointment that the man he'd built up in his head had turned out to be so... ordinary.

Jackson lived his days surrounded by extraordinary people, dynamic people, people who made huge differences in the lives of others. He was raised by a fearless woman who was a rockstar surgeon and a stern but brilliant grandfather who had built an empire from nothing. His wife was an amazing trauma surgeon who never ceased to awe him, his friends were interesting trailblazers. Harper was none of those things and from the look of it, he didn't want to be.

What you saw was what you got with his father. He was an aging man, still handsome, easy going and confident, but that was it. Where was the excitement, where was the brilliance or the desire for it?

"Find anything interesting in there?"

Jackson looked up to find Harper hovering over the desk. He closed a file. "If eczema and moles are what's interesting these days."

Harper took a seat on the other side of the desk. "So private practice is not for you."

"Not general, anyway. Do you ever get bored?"

Harper looked around his sparse office. "Not really, no."

Jackson found that hard to believe. "You don't long for surgery?"

"I get in there from time to time."

"I'm talking about more than removing moles."

"Ouch."

"Sorry."

Harper waved the apology away and let out a long breath. "I should have known that you wouldn't like this place. You're too much like your grandfather and your mother.

Jackson had never thought he was much like them at all until now. "Yeah. Maybe."

"Well at least you can say you're nothing like me: the disappointment."

"I've disappointed my share of people." His mind wandered to April, his mom, his grandfather; all waiting and wondering when he'd show back up. "Why didn't you come back?"

Harper stood up, visibly uncomfortable with the question. "I guess I should have seen this one coming but for some reason I thought the 'why did you leave' would come first."

Jackson stood up as well. If they were going to have this long awaited conversation, it would be on equal footing. "Well, that too."

The older Avery shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to stare out of a window. "You've heard the stories," he said dismissively.

"Yeah, well I want your side."

"My side, huh. Well my side is that I didn't want any of it. I did what was expected of me, all of my decisions were made for me, my life was mapped out at birth. I never got the chance to make my own way. The school's I went to, the program I entered, the woman I married were all lined up or orchestrated by your grandfather in some way."

"And me?"

Harper shook his head as if brushing off a bad dream. His face brightened. "You were the perfect child. You were so calm that when you were born and didn't cry like every other baby, the doctors thought something was wrong with you." Harper chuckled to himself, lost in a memory. "You were always curious and observing. I used to sit and watch you and wonder what you were thinking and if it was abstract or simple." Harper looked over his shoulder at Jackson. "I still do."

It all sounded nice, but if it was that great being a father to him, why hadn't he stuck around? "Then why did you leave?"

Harper turned back to him. "Because I was jealous."

"Of what?"

"Of you."

Jackson rocked back on his heels. "That doesn't make any sense."

Harper shrugged. "You're right, it doesn't. All I know is that when I looked at you, I saw a person with a future ahead of them and the ability to do whatever they wanted. No one was mapping out your life. Your mother was content to let you do whatever you wanted. Your grandfather followed her lead. I wanted that. I needed that. I craved the freedom to be who I wanted and live how I wanted."

"So you left."

"So I left."

Of all the scenarios Jackson had played out in his head over the years, this one (the most simple and complicated of them all) was the one he hadn't seen coming.

"I guess I was jealous of you, too," Jackson confessed. It felt good to get it out after so many years. "For a long time, I was jealous of the man who left it all behind and didn't have to worry about legacy or how to be an Avery. I wanted that."

Harper smiled sadly. "You don't anymore."

"No. I haven't for a long time," Jackson replied.

Harper huffed and nodded, accepting that Jackson was rejecting the very notion of him. "Well, while we're being honest with each other, I have one last thing to get out in the open."

"Yeah?"

"I was selfish in getting you here. I brought the case to you hoping that you'd take it and it would allow us some time to get to know each other. When I realized that you weren't going to take the case, I brought up the pregnancy."

"You knew I didn't know April was pregnant and that telling me would cause problems," Jackson stated plainly. He had suspected it all along and if he was completely honest, he let himself play into Harper's hand out of curiosity about where it would take him. It had been a stupid thing to do, he realized that now. All the years of his life spent wondering about his father had finally come to an end. Now that he knew who the man was, he considered it a favor that Harper had left. "I used to worry that I was too much like you," Jackson admitted.

His father wore a defeated expression. "Are you going back?" he asked.

Jackson didn't have to even think about it. "Yes."

"Then you're nothing like me."

And just like that, Jackson found the answer he'd been searching for.

April put her arms through her shirt and rushed to the front door. When she heard knocking, she expected it to be Catherine but had instead found a delivery man holding a huge bouquet of pink, yellow and white wild flowers. April signed for them and quickly opened the note attached after shutting the door, it read: I'm sorry, be there soon.

April paced and worried herself crazy for the next few hours. It was nearing eight pm when she heard Jackson's key in the door. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She couldn't believe that she was nervous about seeing her own husband but when he walked in all of her anxiousness faded away. April threw herself into his arms, loving the feel of him, his smell, the way he lifted her off her feet and how right it felt to be in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured against her neck, holding her tight.

When he set her back on her feet, April could only stare at him. He looked exhausted but there was a calmness about him that she hadn't seen for a long time.

She touched his face as if to be sure he was real. "Where have you been?"

"In Paris, with my dad."

April wasn't sure if it was the mention of Harper or the build-up of many anxious days and nights spent wondering about where he was that made her do it, but she pulled her hand back and slapped him. Slapped him so hard her hand stung with the impact. "How could you leave like that and not tell me where you were going or when you'd be back?"

April didn't care that his eyes flashed a deep, searing pain or that his immediate response was to gingerly cup his cheek. She hoped it stung like a severe case of shingles.

"Damn-it April, that hurt."

"Not half as bad as I wanted it to."

He dropped his hand from his reddened cheek and reached for her. Maybe it was the jet lag, maybe he was still stunned from the slap, but April was faster than him (a rarity) and easily maneuvered herself out of his reach.

Jackson's hand dropped to his side, dejectedly. "I guess I deserve that, but if you would - can I just explain?"

"No," April snapped, turning away. "No, I won't let you explain." When she wanted his explanations, he was halfway across the world, completely unwilling to spare her a meaningful conversation. April stormed into their room, her resolve firmly in place. When she reemerged, she had a pillow and spare blanket.

Jackson's hands moved almost imperceptibly at his sides: A question.

April tossed both articles onto the couch. "Good night, Jackson." An answer.

The next flower arrangement came a day later. It was waiting for her at the nurses station when she arrived to work. April appraised the Peruvian Lilies and Orange Sorbet Snapdragons with a critical eye, decided reluctantly, that they were beautiful and then opened the note: forgive me?

Forgive him?

Annoyed, April folded the note up and jammed it in her lab coat pocket. She took the vase of flowers to the Attending's lounge and set them on the table.

"Ooh, pretty," Bailey said as she sat down with her lunch. "He's in the dog house, huh?"

April sat down with a pout. "I'm considering giving him permanent residence."

"That bad?"

April knew that most of the hospital was aware that something had gone down between the Averys. No one could be sure what it had been (though there was much speculation) but it was understood that neither April nor Catherine were speaking to Jackson.

She nodded. "Why are boys so stupid?"

"It's in their DNA."

April stared at the flowers. "I can't forgive him yet," she admitted sadly.

Bailey said, "Then don't. So what he sends some pretty flowers trying to get back in. He needs to crawl back, I say. Beg."

"Wow," April said, interested. "Has Ben ever had to crawl back?"

Bailey waved her fork before April, punctuating her words with it like a conductors baton. "At some point or another, they all do."

Babies were miraculous little beings, April decided as she stared at the ultrasound screen. And pregnancy, though it brought with it many stresses on the human body, was beautiful.

She was growing a little person inside of her. Watering, nourishing, lugging around a tiny human being. And to see that human being moving around inside of her, squirming and doing what looked like waving and at one insanely cute point - sucking their thumb - it was beyond anything that she'd ever experienced.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen babies on an ultrasound before (she'd done her necessary rounds in OB) she'd just never seen her baby on the monitor. And as much as it was the same as any other baby, it was that much different.

The overwhelming urge to cry pressed behind April's eyes.

"Tissue?" The ultrasound technician asked, smiling at April.

"No, I'm fine." The tears pricked. "Oh-o-kay," she consented, laughing at how ridiculous she was being. She dabbed at her eyes.

"And there are the legs," the technician pointed out.

April stared at the monitor, following the curser as it outlined a femur, fibula and tibia.

Click. Click. Click. The tech measured and snapped pictures with the mouse.

"Can we find out the sex?"

April jerked up in surprise. She hadn't expected Jackson to show up. She hadn't even told him about her appointment. "Jackson, what are you doing here?"

"It's your sixteen week ultrasound, why wouldn't I be here?" He dragged a chair to her side and sat down. "You don't think I'm not paying attention, do you?" he murmured under his breath. "I would have been here sooner but I had a surgery run late." He directed that to the ultrasound tech.

April huffed, choosing to focus on the baby and not her husband who had to have been checking her appointments and charts without her permission to know when and where to show up. Damn him for his position as chairman of the hospital, thereby not allotting her any privacy. Or sneakiness, as it was.

The tech replied, "We're just about done measuring and checking that every thing is as it should be. We might be able to find out the sex if baby is willing to cooperate."

April had been debating on if she wanted to know if the baby was a boy or a girl. On one hand she liked to be prepared for what was to come and a part of her wanted to decorate the spare room in either ridiculously pink cotton candy fluff or the opposite extreme of baby boy blue. On the other hand, she wanted it to be a surprise, and preferred the neutral shades of pale yellow and cream. That hand didn't want to force gender stereotypes onto her unborn child.

Her confusion must of been apparent because Jackson squeezed her hand as if to calm her racing mind. Reality sank in then. This wasn't just her baby. As much as she wanted to shut Jackson out and punish him for bailing on her for the longest week of her life, it was selfish to extend that anger to all things baby. "Do you want to know?" she asked him. It was the first time she'd spoken anything meaningful to him in weeks.

"I don't know. I don't think so. Wanna wait?" he asked.

April nodded. She didn't want to know either. "We could use a good surprise."

There were times when Jackson really missed Mark Sloan. Most of those times were when he ended up with a really out-there case that he just knew Mark would have loved to have been apart of. Other times were when he needed someone to give him completely inappropriate but somehow useful advice. This was one of those times.

He was at a loss with April. It had seemed like they were progressing at her last ultrasound appointment when she hadn't flinched when he touched her and she'd actually spoken to him and asked his opinion, but two seconds after the appointment was over, he was given the cold shoulder and April showed nothing but a complete disinterest in all things him.

That hadn't changed much in the days that followed, but at least she'd started answering questions related to the baby and he no longer had to guiltily go through her medical files to find the answers she wasn't giving.

Now if he asked, "How's, baby?" she'd give him a rundown of how much kicking or being still the baby was doing. She let him feel her stomach when the baby was active and run her bath when she was exhausted after work. Every few days he'd make a quick run to the grocery store for peanut butter and pickles (the refrigerated ones, not the ones on the shelf). Jackson realized that she was opening up for the baby, he only wished that she'd extend the courtesy to herself as well.

He not only wanted to feel their baby kicking, he wanted to rub her back and prop her feet up and massage them until she kicked him in a spastic fit of giggles. He wanted to run her bath and bathe her, he wanted April to sit down and eat pickles and peanut butter in front of him and tell him about her day.

Jackson wanted it all and had no idea how to get it.

He met his mother in the boardroom. She hadn't been speaking to him either, but after a couple of weeks of ignoring his calls while she was in Boston, Catherine had at least been willing to hear him out upon her Seattle return.

"Mom, I'm sorry," he said a soon as he saw her. Jackson closed the door and stood before her like a little boy ready to take his punishment.

"Oh hush," Catherine hissed. "You think you can just show up with an apology and everything will be alright?"

Jackson hated to admit that on some level he'd thought just that.

"Of course you're sorry now, you're in the dog house. You should have been sorry before you left your pregnant wife the way you did."

"I was only gone a week," Jackson said, defending the indefensible.

"One week, one day, it doesn't matter. It was too long."

"I've apologized, I've sent her flowers, I've been sleeping on the couch for weeks and she still won't talk to me." Jackson sat down heavily in his chair at the head of the table. "All I want to do is make things right and it doesn't seem like there's a way."

Catherine placed her palms flat on the table. There was ire in her eyes and a slightly disgusted frown tugging at her mouth. "Head up, boy! What's this flopping down and giving up because you have to work your way back into your wife's good graces? You're an Avery, there's no such thing as defeat for an Avery."

Jackson sat up straighter, the admonishment from his mom ringing in his ears. "She doesn't want to hear anything I have to say."

"No, she doesn't want to hear your apologies - there's a difference. Now, I have things to do besides sit here and listen to you whine." She bent to kiss his cheek, wiping her lipstick away as was her habit. "And Jackson?"

"Yes, mom?"

"Don't ever do anything like that again."

"Yes, mom."

Yes, there were times when Jackson really missed Mark Sloan's inappropriate yet somehow useful advice, but as he sat there considering his mother's words, he noted that he should never count Catherine Avery out as someone to bestow some no bullshit words of wisdom. He wouldn't be in the predicament he was currently in now if he'd only listened to her the first time.

April balanced her bag on her shoulder, a vase of flowers in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other as she fumbled her key in the lock and nearly fell into her apartment, probably would have fallen had Jackson not stepped in at the most opportune time and confiscated the vase and groceries from her arms.

"You should have called and told me you were on your way up, I would have come down to help," he said.

April regarded him openly with pursed lips. She still wasn't talking to him. It didn't matter how many flowers he sent her - and he'd sent so many that their home was beginning to resemble a greenhouse- she refused to give in. Her refusal to speak to him didn't deter Jackson, though, which April found annoyingly disconcerting. In fact, he had complete conversations with her and she never had to say a word. It was particularly bothersome when he said something that made her want to laugh. Those times she'd have to bite down on the inside of her cheek or pinch the inside of her thigh to keep the traitorous giggle inside.

"I made dinner. Chicken Parmesan."

April raised her brows, glancing into the kitchen. It smelled delicious but she wouldn't let him know that.

She shrugged out of her jacket, her perfect gentleman of a husband was right there to take it from her.

"How was your day?" he asked as she walked past him into the kitchen, lifting lids and peeking into the oven. "Mine was interesting… talked to my mom."

April narrowed her eyes. So Catherine had given in. That meant that she was the last, lone hold out in the Freeze Jackson Out Pact. Figured, Catherine was a softie under all that bravado.

"She told me to stop apologizing and to tell you why."

Well, it seemed her mother-in-law hadn't completely left her out in the cold. April crossed her arms over her chest defensively. She was listening but she was letting him know that she wasn't happy about listening.

Jackson moved toward her cautiously, like any wrong movement would send her scampering away. He settled against the counter an arms reach away from her. "I was wrong," he began. "Wrong to not tell you what I was feeling when I was feeling it, wrong to shut you out when all you wanted to do was help, wrong to run away when I should have stayed here with you where I belonged."

April turned her head so that their eyes met. She felt her resolve fading and wasn't sure if she was ready to let go of it just yet.

"What I should have done was tell you that I was feeling confused, that I wanted to form a relationship with my father but was ashamed to admit it. I should have trusted in our love enough to know that you would understand, and when things got bad, I shouldn't have left because my place is here with you."

April's willpower was gone. How could she remain mad at him when he was baring his soul to her? She stepped closer. "Why did you leave, was it because of the pregnancy, because I know I was wrong for that and I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

He appeared genuinely taken aback by the question. "No, April. I mean, yes, I wish you would have told me, but it wasn't like I was behaving in a way that was receptive. Besides, after I got over myself, I realized how epically happy I was about the baby. "

"Really?" April had been so focused on Jackson's actions, she'd forgotten that she had her own regrets. "I wasn't fair to you either," she admitted.

"Yes, really, and we both made our share of mistakes."

"Then why?" she asked.

Jackson let out a harsh breath. "I left because had to know if I was like him."

It hit April then that as well as she thought she knew Jackson, there was still so much that she didn't know and may never know. "I had no idea you ever thought you were."

"You said it yourself," he reminded her.

It pained her to recall throwing that accusation in his face. "It was in anger. I didn't mean it."

"Still. I had to know."

"And?"

Jackson shrugged, his features softening. "I'm not." His look was reflective. "I could never be like him."

It boggled April's mind that it had taken her husband a trip to Europe to find out something that she could have told him herself. "No, you couldn't."

April gently rested her hand over his. It wasn't everything, but it was a start.

They weren't completely back to normal but they were getting there. Jackson still slept on the couch, not because April told him he had to, but because she hadn't told him that he didn't have to anymore. He still sent flowers, but not because he wanted her to forgive him (that would come in time) but because he felt like she deserved them. April had began letting him touch her again, a huge hurdle that he was happy was behind them because he'd had the hardest time keeping his hands off of his wife. And they'd had their first sit down with a couples therapist, which had left them both drained but had also brought them remarkably closer in a lot of ways.

Currently, Jackson's focus was directed solely on the task of massaging his wife's feet, which was hard to do since April burst into laughter every few seconds and practically yanked her feet away every time his fingers grazed too softly. She had her ankles resting over his thighs while they lounged on the couch. He had he missed nights like this; just the two of them enjoying everything about each other.

"That tickles," April squealed, her feet squirming in his hands."

"If you'd just relax," he encouraged, grinding the heel of his palm into the arch of her foot. His wife had small, narrow feet. They were amazingly soft for someone whose job required them to be on their feet majority of the time, and they were insanely sensitive to touch. Jackson pressed the pads of his thumbs to the balls of her feet, rotating her toes.

"Ooh," April let out a dreamy sigh. "That feels good."

"See." He let himself indulge in the contours of her face; it was a picture of softness, all of her edges had rounded with the fullness of pregnancy, her bottom lip was pulled gently between her teeth, her eyes were downcast and heavy with relaxation. She was beautiful. "How's the baby?"

"Kicking like crazy."

"From all your laughing, I'm sure."

"Here." April pulled his arm and took his hand, she guided it to a point on her stomach where he could feel the baby's fluttering movements.

"Oh." There was a swift jerk that Jackson could best describe as some sort of flip. "Oh. "

"I think we might have a gymnast on our hands."

"Or an acrobat."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No."

"They both do flips and jumps."

"Gymnasts use bars and beams. Acrobats are in the circus."

"Jackson!" April slapped at his hand. "Are you saying our child's going to be a circus performer."

He shrugged, knowing it would irritate her. "Maybe something a little more respectable; Circ du Soleil?

She hit him again which made him laugh.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Dominique Dawes and Kerri Strug."

"I was thinking Barnum and Bailey," he teased, grabbing her feet and running his fingers quickly over her soles. The laugh he elicited made his night.

"You win!" She squealed and he stopped.

"I knew you'd see it my way."

"Only because you cheated."

"You call that cheating?"

"Yes." She sat up on her knees. "What if I had done this…" April leaned in, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. Her warm, soft breaths fanning across his face made his skin tingle.

"Hey... now."

"Or this?" She grazed her lips lazily along his jaw.

"That would be cheating," he moaned. It had been too long since he'd had her this close to him and the way she was moving… he didn't know whether he was allowed to indulge or not. Jackson raised a tentative hand to her hair and when she didn't protest, he dug his fingers into it.

April straddled his waist. Her lips inches from his. "Gymnast or acrobat?" she whispered into his mouth.

"You-" she rocked her hips into his "-win."

"I win." April cupped his face in her hands. Her hazel-grey eyes met his and Jackson could see the want in them and knew it reflected his own. "Come to bed."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

Autumn in Seattle was beautiful. The leaves (turned gorgeous hues of dark reds oranges and browns) blanketed the streets, the sun rose and set in a beautiful explosion of colors. Everything seemed to quiet and calm, like a motionless wait before the harsh winter blew in.

And that was how Jackson and April's daughter came into the world; a calm little bundle wrapped up in pale pink skin and a shock of red hair.

"It's a girl!" The doctor announced.

"She's not crying," April said. "Why isn't she crying?"

Jackson was smiling the biggest smile he thought he'd ever smiled. "She's too interested in what's around her," Jackson said, taking in the little girl the doctors were currently wiping off and warming up. "She's fine," he assured April as a nurse handed him a pair of medical scissors. Jackson cut the umbilical chord right at the clip.

"We're saving the cord blood," April reminded everyone for the tenth time. "Jackson tell them we're saving the cord blood."

"They know," he said, calmly pushing her hair off her forehead.

The doctor lifted April's quiet child up and placed her in her mother's arms. The baby whimpered, not quite a cry but it would do.

"Oh my God, Jackson."

"I know."

They stared at their baby, completely awed.

"I can't believe she's finally here."

"I can't believe she has red hair."

"Hey!" April stared at her baby. "You know that the brunette was a dye job. You've seen my sisters… and other things."

Jackson chuckled, settling down in a chair beside the bed. Everything about their baby surprised him. They'd waited nine long months for her arrival, not knowing if she'd be a boy or a girl, if she'd take after April or him, or if she'd be a mix of them both. And now she was here and she had April's red hair, something about that tugged at his heart.

A nurse came and took the baby to clean her up. April made Jackson follow with the camera. He took a million pictures of his pink, scrunched faced, red haired baby. When she was sufficiently clean and swaddled, the nurse handed her off to him. It was scary holding something so precious in his arms, knowing that he was responsible for her well-being and happiness. He saw a future full of moments: her first smile, video taping her first steps, pushing her on a swing, teaching her to swim, her first day of school, first boyfriend, graduation, walking her down the isle. It was an overwhelming feeling that he more than welcomed.

He was a father.

Jackson smiled down at her, wishing that she'd open her eyes for a second so that he could see if he could claim her eye color like April could her hair, but she didn't oblige, instead she drifted off to sleep.

He made his way back to April, gently kissing the top their daughter's head before placing her back in April's arms.

"She's beautiful," April declared as she wrapped her daughter close to her, snuggling her nose into the crook of her neck.

"Just like her mother," Jackson said. "I've never seen you more beautiful." And he hadn't. April had gone through seventeen hours of labor and had come out looking even more gorgeous than she had been going in.

Jackson couldn't think of a happier time in his life or a time that he'd been more proud of April. She'd given him everything he didn't know he wanted until he knew he wanted her, and he'd spend the rest of his life thanking her for it in every way he could.

"Jackson."

"It's true. Don't argue with me about it."

April relented, turning her full attention to their daughter. "What should we name her?" April had undone the swaddle and was now counting fingers and toes.

They'd never gone over names. Jackson had always figured that the right name would just come to them. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"Should we name her after our mothers?"

They both looked at each other and laughed. Naming her after the two mother hens waiting anxiously outside of the door, ready to come in and bark orders and directions to the new parents wasn't happening.

Just outside of the hospital room window, Jackson caught sight of a red leaf drifting by on a breeze. He smiled. "What about Autumn?"

April ran the back of her finger over their daughter's rounded cheek. "Autumn?"

If they weren't mistaken, she grinned. It was a quick twitch of her little pink mouth that revealed one perfect dimple in her left cheek that made Jackson and April look at each other in silent agreement.

Autumn she was.

Fin.

That's it, folks! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. :)