Fic: Love and Fear
Title: Love and Fear
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Lindsay (nylana)
Rating: PG-13 (language, violence)
Genre: Angst, Drama
Word Count: 7,849
Characters/Pairings: April, Simon, Sam, Nathan, Evan, Penny (April/Simon, Evan/Penny)
Summary: Everything the father of a family says must inspire one or the other. - Joseph Joubert
April sat down heavily in her chair, fighting the headache that had sprung up during her meeting with Harrison and his Security Adviser.
She propped her elbows on the desk, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with her fingers.
After a few minutes she sighed and turned her attention to the messages her secretary had left while she was out of the office. She flipped disinterestedly through them, thinking none of them were important enough to deal with right now.
She started to drop the stack of messages back onto her desk when she noticed the very last one. She froze, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
Garrett Newcastle. Says he's your father.
April could imagine Laurie writing the note, could envision the skeptical look on her face, and she stared at the phone number.
"April?"
She gasped softly as she looked up to see Nathan standing in the doorway of her office.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his expression concerned as he looked at her.
"Fine," she said, forcing a smile as she crumpled the message in her fist, hoping he couldn't see her hands shaking.
Her phone startled her awake later that night and she glanced at the clock, wondering who the hell was calling so late. Simon groaned, his arm pressing against her waist as he shifted behind her.
"Don't answer it," he mumbled sleepily, his breath warm against her shoulder.
"It might be work," she replied as she fumbled for her phone.
Simon groaned again and rolled over as April placed the phone against her ear.
"Hello?" she said, propping herself up on her elbow.
"April? It's Dad."
The familiar voice sent a chill down April's spine, bringing forth a flood of memories, and her breath hitched in her throat.
He said her name again and she slapped her phone shut, clenching it tightly in her hand as she pressed it to her mouth.
"Who was it?" Simon asked, his voice muffled by his pillow.
"Wrong number," April murmured.
Something in her voice must have caught Simon's attention because he turned over and sat up behind her, placing a hand on her waist.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly.
She glanced back at him, noticing his worried expression. She shook her head and gave him a small smile.
"Nothing. Everything's fine. Go back to sleep."
She touched her lips lightly to his and lay back down on her side. Simon pressed against her back, draping his arm over her once more.
The display of her phone lit up and she jabbed the button on the side, silencing the ringer before it could go off. When the call ended, she opened her phone again and turned it off before placing it back on her bedside table.
Simon went almost immediately back to sleep, but April lay awake, staring at the wall.
Simon sighed softly after a while and rolled over, his foot brushing April's leg as he adjusted his position.
She glanced over her shoulder at him and then slipped carefully out of bed, looking back at him as she quietly opened the bedroom door. She smiled slightly at his arm hanging over the edge of the bed; she'd always found the way he tended to sprawl when he was asleep endearing.
She closed the door gently behind her and walked into the living room, making her way around the shadowy furniture to stand by the window. She leaned forward to rest her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes.
She wondered why her father was trying to get in touch with her all of a sudden, why he wanted so badly to see her. She frowned slightly, hating all of the memories that were rising to the surface, memories she'd tried so hard to keep away ever since she left home.
The sound of her father's voice echoed in her ears and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She thought about the certain tone he used when he wanted her or her mother to do something, and she thought about the times her mother ignored it. She remembered crying as she watched him hit her mother; she was terrified that one day he might come after her like that, and she always made sure to listen to and obey that tone.
She shivered again and opened her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to force the memories away. She hadn't thought about them in over ten years, and she wasn't going to dwell on them now.
She stared down at the street, thinking about getting back in bed and seeing if she could go back to sleep, and then froze when she saw the battered truck parked in front of her building. It was conspicuously out of place in this neighborhood, and her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she tried to tell herself that it couldn't be him, that there wasn't any way he could've found out where she lived.
She'd almost convinced herself that it was just a random truck when she saw the flare of a lighter, followed shortly by a barely visible puff of white smoke.
"It's not him," she whispered fiercely, closing her eyes and tightening her grip on herself to try to stop trembling. "It's not."
She jumped, gasping softly, when she heard the roar of the truck's engine. She looked back down at the street and watched the truck pull away from the curb. When it disappeared from sight she let out her breath in a loud whoosh, stepping back from the window and sinking down onto the couch.
She rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands, willing her breathing to slow and her heart to stop hammering inside her chest.
She took a ragged breath after a moment, swiping at the tears on her cheeks before running her fingers through her hair. She suddenly felt exhausted and she stood, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed and curl up next to Simon and try to forget about this whole mess.
The next morning, she didn't turn her phone back on until she was sure Simon was in the shower, and wasn't surprised when the voicemail notification popped up.
She bit her lip as she looked at it before finally dialing her voicemail and raising the phone to her ear.
"April, it's Dad. I'm in DC for a few days, thought maybe I could see you. Call me."
She could hear that edge in his voice on the last two words, making it sound more like a command than a request, and even now, some fifteen years after he'd walked out, she felt the familiar fear welling up inside of her.
Her grip on the phone tightened and she closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn't a little girl anymore, and she wasn't going to let those old feelings control her life. She took a deep breath and deleted the message, closing her phone and tossing it onto the bed.
Simon emerged from the bathroom as she was slipping her shoes on, and he kissed her when she straightened.
"When are you on?" she asked, shrugging her suit jacket on and reaching for her phone.
"Two. Lunch before my shift starts?"
April nodded, smiling slightly. "Sure."
Simon followed her from the bedroom, stepping around her to walk into the kitchen when she stopped to get her bag from one of the chairs at the table. She grabbed her purse from the table by the door and dropped her phone inside.
"I'll see you later," she called, making sure she had her keys before slipping her purse onto her shoulder. "Love you."
"Love you too," Simon replied, his words punctuated by the sound of the refrigerator door closing.
Later that afternoon April was at her desk, staring intently at the budget report in front of her and trying to ignore the fact that there were still at least three hours before she could consider going home.
Her phone rang and she snatched up the receiver, pressing it to her ear.
"April Newcastle," she said distractedly, underlining something in the report.
"Don't hang up."
There was the edge again and April stared at the report on her desk without really seeing it, her hand tightening around the phone.
"What do you want?" she asked finally.
"Well, like I said in the message I left you last night that you couldn't be bothered to return, I'm in town and I want to see you."
"Why?" April said, gripping her pen so tightly her hand hurt. "Why do you want to see me so badly? I haven't heard from you for fifteen years and now you all of a sudden want to see me?"
"April-"
"You know what, I don't care," April said angrily, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "I don't want to see you. Stop calling me."
April slammed the phone down hard and took a shaky breath as she rocked back in her chair, raking her trembling hands through her hair. She glanced at the report on her desk and then pushed herself to her feet, feeling the sudden urge to get out of her office.
She walked aimlessly through the corridors, eyes on her feet and ignoring everyone she passed until she ran smack into Sam outside of Harrison's office.
She stumbled back a step and Sam reached for her, a bemused smile on his face as he steadied her. His smile faded as he looked closer at her face.
"Everything all right?"
April nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, fine."
"You don't normally pace the hallways when you're fine," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at her.
April sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I'm just a little stressed out."
"Well, tomorrow should be better," Sam said, smiling encouragingly.
April looked up at him, nonplussed. "How come?"
"Tomorrow's your birthday," Sam said slowly, frowning slightly.
"Oh," April murmured, shaking her head slightly, "right."
Sam stared intently at her. "Are you sure you're all right? What's got you so stressed? Maybe I can help."
"You can't," she said vaguely, her eyes on the floor.
Sam's frown deepened as he looked at her, and he wanted to say something, but he wasn't quite sure what.
April looked back up at him, another forced smile on her face. "I'm fine, Sam, really. Don't worry about me."
Sam wanted to tell her that was impossible, but couldn't quite bring himself to say the words out loud.
"I have to get back to work," April said, starting to move past Sam. "I'll see you later."
Sam watched her until she disappeared around the corner, and then turned to head back to his own office.
Her phone rang later that night as she was putting away the dishes in the drain rack and she fumbled it from her pocket, flipping it open and pressing it to her ear as she grabbed a glass from the rack.
"Hello?" she said, stretching to place the glass in the cabinet.
"You really need to stop hanging up on me, sweetheart."
The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering against the floor, and she gripped the edge of the counter.
"I told you to stop calling me," she said, forcing toughness into her voice that she didn't really feel.
He laughed softly and April shivered.
"That's not how this works. You do what I say, not the other way around." He paused. "I want to see you."
"No," April breathed, her hand tightening on the counter as she swayed slightly.
"Excuse me?"
His voice dropped dangerously and she felt her resolve starting to slip.
"I said... I said no." She took a steadying breath. "I already told you I don't want to see you, and I'm not going to. Stop calling."
She ended the call and blocked the number before he could call back, clutching her phone in her hands and struggling against the tears that stung her eyes. She gasped sharply, feeling as though she couldn't catch her breath. She'd never stood up to her father before, and she'd now done it twice in one day; it was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
She looked down, staring at the glass on the floor, and thought back to when she was eight years old, washing dishes after dinner one night.
Her dad was watching TV in the living room and she was trying to be as quiet as she could; he always got mad when she made too much noise.
She rose slightly on her toes, reaching for the faucet handle to rinse the plate in her hand, and she froze as the stool she was standing on wobbled slightly. She held her breath, waiting to see if he'd heard it. She let out her breath when she didn't hear the familiar sound of his chair creaking that signaled he was getting up, and she reached for the faucet again, rinsing the dish quickly before placing it carefully in the drain rack.
She reached for another plate, wincing as it bumped against the side of the sink and sloshed water over the edge of the counter. She gasped, recoiling and taking an involuntary step back, right off the stool. She fell back, landing hard on the floor; the plate she still clutched in her hand shattered against the tile.
"God damn it, April!" her father yelled from the living room.
She heard the creak of his chair and scrambled to push herself to her feet. Her hand landed on one of the larger plate shards and the ceramic bit into her palm, raking sharply along her skin and making her cry out. She snatched her hand up, staring as blood welled from the gash on her palm.
Her father appeared in the doorway and April looked up at him, biting her lip in an effort to stop the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.
He took in the scene before him, his eyes quickly moving over the shattered bits of plate and April sitting on the floor before his gaze landed on her hand. He frowned down at her a moment and then knelt, taking her arms and pulling her to her feet. He led her into the bathroom and told her to hold her hand over the sink. He turned on the tap and cool water ran over her palm; she watched as it swirled down the drain, red at first, then pink, then clear.
He turned the water off and stood still a moment, waiting to see if more blood would rise. When none did, he lifted her onto the counter and took her hand in his. His fingers were gentle as he inspected the wound, and April bit her lip again to keep from gasping at the sporadic bursts of pain that radiated out from the gash. Blood oozed from the cut as he prodded the skin around it and he held her hand under the water once again.
"Not deep enough for stitches," he finally muttered, and bent to rummage around under the sink. He had a roll of gauze in his hand when he straightened and he patted her skin dry before he carefully wound the bandage around her hand. He swore under his breath when he couldn't find the scissors in the drawer, and pulled out his pocketknife, using it to cut the end of the bandage before securing it in place.
"Too tight?" he murmured, glancing up at her, his blue eyes intense.
She shook her head, the corner of her mouth rising in a hesitant smile.
He tossed the gauze back under the sink and then reached up to open the medicine cabinet. He took down the bottle of children's aspirin and shook two pills into her uninjured palm, reaching behind her to fill the cup on the counter with water.
Once she'd taken the medicine, he lifted her off the counter; she watched as he put the pill bottle away, and then he turned to face her.
"Get back out there and clean up the mess you made, and then finish doing the dishes. And if you break any more, you'll be grounded for a week."
April's smile faded as she watched him walk from the bathroom and she stood still a moment until he called her name in his warning voice.
She scurried from the bathroom and back into the kitchen, trying not to cry as she swept up the broken plate and finished washing the dishes.
Her hand was throbbing when she finally went to bed, and her stomach was upset from her struggles to keep her tears at bay.
He grounded her anyway for not getting all of the pieces of broken plate swept up, and for missing a few drops of blood that had smeared on the kitchen floor.
The sound of someone saying her name startled her from the memory and she gasped softly, looking up. Simon was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning slightly as he looked at her.
"What happened?" he asked, his eyes dropping to the pieces of glass sparkling dully on the floor. His frown deepened as he started towards her. "You're bleeding."
"What?" April murmured, her brow creasing slightly.
"Your leg," he said, pointing.
April looked down and noticed the scratch on her leg, just above her ankle; she stared at the thin line of blood that trickled down and frowned slightly. She started to move and then froze when Simon yelled for her to stop.
"Jesus, April, there's glass all over the floor and you're barefoot. Wait a minute."
He stepped back and retrieved the broom from next to the refrigerator. He swept the glass up and threw it into the trashcan before taking April's hand and leading her from the kitchen.
He sat her down on the couch and settled beside her, staring intently at her face.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "I called your name three times when I got home, and then I walked into the kitchen and you were standing there, staring off into space with shattered glass all around your feet." He paused, staring closely at her face. "And you look like you've been crying."
April sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry, it's just..." She hesitated, looking uncertainly at Simon for a moment. "Work was just really stressful today."
Simon looked skeptical and April smiled at him, taking his hand in hers.
"I'm fine, really. It was just a bad day, but it's better now that you're home."
"You sure?" Simon asked, still looking concerned.
"Yeah," April said, nodding and pulling him to her for a kiss.
April awoke the next morning to Simon's head resting on her stomach, his fingers tracing random patterns on her skin, and she smiled as she looked at him.
"Morning," she murmured.
Simon grinned at her and moved to kiss her.
"Happy birthday," he said softly.
"Thank you," she replied, her smile widening as she kissed him again.
"C'mon, I made you breakfast," he said as he pushed himself to his knees.
"You made me breakfast?" April asked as she sat up, her tone amused. "I can't believe you got up early to make me breakfast, are you even working today?"
"No, which is fortunate, because I have to go over to Dad's to get the house ready for your party tonight."
"Mmm, I love when you get all domestic," April said, grinning broadly at him. "Have you got a French maid outfit to wear?"
Simon snorted laughter as he leaned toward her, pushing her back down on the bed.
"I'd rather see you in that," he said, his hand sliding up under her shirt.
April giggled. "I bet you would."
Simon grinned and pressed himself against her as he captured her lips in a fiery kiss.
When they finally emerged from the bedroom, breakfast was cold, and April was almost late for work, but she was in far too good a mood to care.
The day passed in a flurry of birthday wishes and cards, and several jokes about turning 30 that made April roll her eyes even as she laughed. All of that combined with the fact that her father didn't try to call her again pushed all thoughts of him from her mind.
It might have been a perfect day if not for the sudden landslide of work April found herself buried under as the afternoon wore on.
It was just after five o'clock when she called Simon.
"What do you mean you're still at work?" he asked incredulously. "The party's at 6:30, it kind of looks weird if the guest of honor is late."
"I know, and I'm sorry, but I need to finish this before I leave. Look, why don't you bring me my dress for tonight, so I can change here and head straight to your dad's once I get off. It's hanging on the closet door. And those red heels you said you liked, the ones with the strap."
Simon was quiet a minute. "April, you have three pairs of red heels with straps," he said finally, "and I kind of like them all."
April grinned, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Then pick your favorites. I trust your judgment."
He turned up a half hour later and she inspected the shoes he'd picked out.
"These are your favorites?"
"Well, not exactly. My favorites are those really high ones with the little strap in the back-"
"The ones that kill my feet?" April said, the corner of her mouth rising.
"But they make your legs look amazing," Simon said earnestly.
April laughed and Simon grinned.
"I thought about bringing those, but I decided these matched the dress better."
April smiled as she kissed him. "Thank you."
"You want me to wait?" Simon asked, glancing at the work piled on her desk.
"No, you go on to your dad's. I'll try not to be too late."
Simon kissed her once more before he left, and April settled behind her desk again.
Later that night she stepped from her car, checking her watch. It was closer to seven than she would've liked, but at least she was only a half hour late.
She adjusted her dress and tugged her sweater closer around her, and then started across the road, shivering slightly in the damp chill that had descended with the afternoon's rain showers.
She had just reached the sidewalk in front of Nathan's house when she heard footsteps behind her and somebody saying her name.
She turned, frowning, and then took an involuntary step back when she saw her father crossing the road. He passed in front of the streetlamp, casting a long shadow on the wet pavement; the light caught his blond hair, close cropped as it always had been, though the color seemed lighter than she remembered. The way he dressed hadn't changed, however: scuffed boots, worn jeans, and an old flannel shirt, worn open over a plain white t-shirt.
"Did you follow me here?" she asked in disbelief.
"I told you, I wanted to see you," Garrett Newcastle said as he stepped up onto the curb.
"And I said I didn't want to see you."
She turned and moved to continue down the sidewalk.
"April, stop."
She froze in place, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. She hated that he still had this kind of control over her, and she hated that he knew it.
"What do you want?" she asked desperately as she turned to face him.
"I've seen you on TV," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets as he moved towards her. "Giving those briefings and doing those press conferences. You've done pretty well for yourself."
April crossed her arms tightly over her chest and didn't respond.
"How much do you make?"
"None of your business," April snapped. "Is that why you're here? You want me to give you money?"
"Figure you owe me."
"Owe you for what?"
"For raising you. For putting up with your bullshit for fifteen years."
April stared at him, amazed and disgusted. "I don't owe you a damn thing."
She turned on her heel and started down the sidewalk once more.
"Come back here."
"No!" April yelled, whirling to face him again. "No! You don't control me anymore and you don't get to tell me what to do. Stay the fuck away from me. Just leave me alone."
"Don't you dare talk to me like that," Garrett said, his voice dangerous as he stepped closer to her. "I am your father."
"No, you... you are just... a glorified sperm donor. You were never my father."
She turned and had only taken a couple of steps when he grabbed her from behind, spinning her roughly around and holding her in place. She tried to pull away from him but his grip tightened painfully and she gasped.
"Listen to me, sweetheart," he said, pitching his voice low and angling his head to see her face. She looked away and he grabbed her chin with one hand, his fingers biting into her skin as he forced her to look at him. "Listen. I will always control you, because you're weak. You're worthless, April, always have been. You're just one big, unfortunate mistake that ruined my life."
April couldn't stop the tears that spilled from her eyes or the sob that escaped her lips, but as Garrett smirked down at her, the old hurt diminished and was replaced by hate. She brought her heel down hard on his foot and when he yelled, releasing his hold on her, she gave him a hard shove before she turned and ran up the sidewalk. She could hear him behind her and as she rounded the corner onto the path that led to Nathan's front door, stumbling a little in her heels, she realized she'd never been more relieved to see Secret Service agents walking towards her.
She pushed past them and then gasped sharply when she heard her father shout her name. She turned to see the agents holding him tightly between them.
She heard the front door of the house open and looked back to see Nathan step out, followed closely by Simon.
"What's going on?" Nathan asked, his brow furrowed as he and Simon approached April.
She found she couldn't answer, humiliation burning in her stomach and bringing tears to her eyes. Nathan turned his attention to the agents holding Garrett.
"She just came tearing around the corner, this guy hot on her heels."
Simon's expression darkened as he stepped around April, and she edged closer to Nathan as she watched Simon approach her father.
"Who the hell are you?" Simon asked.
Garrett grinned, turning his gaze to April.
"Tell him who I am, sweetheart."
April looked away and Nathan glanced at her before putting his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Simon glanced back and took in April's expression before he looked back at Garrett.
"I didn't ask her, I asked you. Who are you?"
"I'm her father," he replied with a sneer.
Simon looked at April, surprised. She nodded reluctantly, and Simon frowned as he looked back at Garrett.
"Well, she clearly doesn't want to have anything to do with you, so I think you should just leave."
"Who the fuck are you?" Garrett asked, his lip curling as he looked at Simon.
"I'm the man who would be more than happy to arrest you for harassing a federal employee."
"More like assaulting," April muttered.
Simon turned to look at her and she shifted to pull her sweater down to show him her arm. He looked at the bright red mark and shook his head.
"Oh, well, that's even better," Simon said, smiling humorlessly as he looked at Garrett.
"You don't have any proof it was me."
"I've got at least three people standing here right now who will happily say they saw you grab her. Isn't that right?" Simon said, still glaring at April's father.
The two agents on either side of Garrett nodded.
"Absolutely," Nathan murmured, tightening his grip on April.
Garrett's eyes flickered to look at Nathan. "And who are you?"
"More of a father to her than you've ever been."
There was a commotion by the door and Simon, April, and Nathan turned to see Sam step outside, flanked by three Secret Service agents. He arched an eyebrow as he looked at the group of people in front of him, and he descended the steps to the path, coming to stand on April's other side.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, looking down at her.
"Well, isn't this touching," Garrett said before April could answer, "so many men coming to your rescue. Tell me, did she sleep with all of you?" Garrett asked, his gaze passing over everyone assembled in the yard before he looked back at April, smirking. "That's about the only reason I could see for all of you giving a shit about her. Did she sleep with the President too? Bet that's how she got her job."
Before anybody else could move, Simon's fist collided with Garrett's face in a punch that would've sent him to the ground had the two agents not been holding him.
Remarkably Garrett laughed, spitting blood on the grass before he looked at April again.
"Oh, you must be good. Almost makes me wish I'd kept on, that night in your room."
"You son of a bitch," Simon snarled, pulling his fist back again.
"Simon, no," April said, stepping forward quickly and grabbing his arm. "He's not worth it."
Simon looked down at her and then sighed, running a hand over his face.
"Get him out of here."
The agents started to lead Garrett down the path and Simon turned, slipping his arm around April's waist and guiding her towards the house.
Evan and Penny were waiting by the door when April and Simon stepped inside.
"We were sort of... watching. What happened?" Evan asked.
April looked at him, mouth open as if to reply, and then noticed everyone else had come inside. She could feel their eyes on her and she dropped her gaze to the floor, wiping her palms on her skirt before she turned and pushed past Sam on her way to the back of the house.
Simon started to go after her and Penny stepped in front of him, touching her hand lightly to his chest.
"Let me talk to her," she said softly.
Simon sighed and nodded, and Penny turned away, stepping past Sam and heading back to find April.
She saw the bathroom light on and knocked carefully on the door.
"April?" she said softly.
The door cracked slightly and Penny pushed it open, slipping inside.
April was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, a tissue pressed to her nose.
"Was that... was that your dad?" Penny asked hesitantly as she leaned against the counter.
April nodded, sniffling a little.
"Are you okay?" Penny asked after a minute, knowing it was a stupid question but unsure of what else to say.
"No," April replied, shaking her head. "I'm so embarrassed."
"Embarrassed?" Penny said, frowning slightly. "He's the one who made a fool of himself in front of everyone."
"I never wanted you all to meet him, especially not like this."
"Why did he turn up, anyway?"
"He wanted money. He said I owed him." April laughed shakily, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, and Penny scowled.
"Bastard," she muttered, disgusted. "Did he hurt you?"
"He grabbed me," April said, gesturing vaguely at her arm.
Penny sighed, looking sadly at April, and they fell silent.
"I heard what he said," Penny said quietly after a minute. "About that night in your room."
"God," April muttered, placing her hands over her face. "I haven't told Simon about that. I didn't even think about it until... until he brought it up. I know Simon's going to ask about it, what if he gets mad that I never told him?"
Penny shook her head, staring intently at April.
"He's not going to be mad."
April looked at Penny a moment and then sighed, shaking her head.
"God, Pen, I don't know if I can go back out there."
Penny knelt in front of April and rested her hands on April's knees, peering up at her face.
"Everybody out there loves you and cares about you. Nobody is going to judge you, or blame you, or be upset with you."
April closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"How do I look?" she asked a moment later.
"A little smudged," Penny said, smiling gently as she ran her thumbs under April's eyes.
April laughed slightly and she and Penny stood. April checked her reflection, tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing the front of her dress. She stared at herself a moment before turning suddenly to Penny, pulling her into a hug. Penny held her tightly a moment, and then April pulled away, taking a deep breath before she opened the bathroom door.
When she and Penny stepped into the living room, Simon, Nathan, Sam, and Evan looked up and April took another breath.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, and was almost amused at the nearly identical frowns that appeared on their faces.
"What on Earth for?" Nathan said incredulously. "He's the one who should be sorry, don't you dare apologize."
April smiled a little sheepishly. "Is the party ruined?"
"Not at all. It's still early, and there's plenty of food, which you lot better eat because I haven't got room for it all in the refrigerator."
Everybody laughed and moved towards the kitchen, except for April, who sat down on the couch, and Simon, who came to sit beside her.
"You're not going to eat?" he asked, his eyes concerned as he looked at her.
"I'm not hungry right now, but you go on."
"I'm not really hungry either. Dad's got a little more room in the fridge than he thinks he does."
April smiled, shaking her head slightly, and Simon sat back against the cushions, taking her hand and tugging her gently towards him. April settled against his side, laying her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her.
"Is he the one who called the other night?" Simon asked quietly after a few minutes.
April nodded, picking at a loose thread near one of the buttons on his shirt.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
April shrugged. "I don't know. I was hoping he'd just... go away again."
"April-"
"Can we talk about it later?" April asked, looking up at Simon. "Please?"
Simon nodded and pressed his lips to the top of April's head as she rested her head on his shoulder again.
The rest of the night was largely uneventful, though entertaining when Sam and Nathan entered into a spirited debate on foreign policy.
April shook her head when they turned to her for her opinion.
"Considering there isn't a national government yet outside of our own, both of your points are pretty much moot right now."
"There will be someday," Nathan said, and then grinned. "Sam here wants to be the first Prime Minister of a new Great Britain."
"Shut up, Nathan," Sam said, shifting uncomfortably beside April as he stretched his arm along the back of the couch.
"Is that true?" April murmured, turning slightly to look at him.
"Something that came up in idle conversation," Sam replied, balling up his napkin and lobbing it at Nathan.
"What?" Nathan said, laughing as he batted the napkin away. "You'd make a good Prime Minister."
"Too bad, though, since Sam's never allowed to leave," April said, looking at Sam with raised eyebrows.
"Oh, really?" Sam said, arching an eyebrow back at her. "Says who?"
"Says me."
Sam chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, and April grinned at him.
"Guess that's settled then," Nathan said, laughing as he stood to answer the phone.
Sam smiled at April, and she returned it before turning back towards Simon.
"That was Harrison," Nathan said as he came back in the room. "He said he's sorry he couldn't make it, but to tell you happy birthday and he'll have your present for you on Monday."
April smiled, grateful that at least one person hadn't been exposed to the unexpected and unwanted appearance of her father.
The evening ended with cake and presents. April thanked each person as she opened her gifts: a book of poetry from Sam, a pair of sapphire earrings from Nathan, and a purse from Evan and Penny.
"I picked the color," Evan said, grinning at her. His smile faded when Penny elbowed him. "What? I did."
April laughed and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I love the color, thank you."
Evan beamed and nudged Penny with his arm. "See? She loves the color."
Penny shook her head, rolling her eyes, and April giggled.
Nathan slipped from the room and reappeared a few minutes later with a cake in his hands, the lit candles lending a glow to his face as Sam turned off the lights.
"You put thirty candles on that thing, didn't you," April said, giving Nathan a look as he set the cake on the dining room table.
Nathan's response was to grin and April pointed her finger at him. "Just wait until your next birthday."
Nathan waved a hand at her and she laughed, shaking her head.
Tears came unexpectedly to her eyes as they began to sing and she leaned against Simon, smiling when he put his arms around her and bent to kiss her cheek.
"All right, blow out the candles before you burn my house down," Nathan said when they'd finished.
"You're just asking for a smack, aren't you?" April said, laughing as she stepped to the table. She leaned down, pushing her hair behind her ears, and managed to blow out all of the candles on the first try, eliciting a cheer.
The lights came back on and April stared at everybody standing around her, feeling her throat tighten as tears filled her eyes again.
"This night could've gone really badly, if not for you guys," she said quietly, sniffling lightly. "Thank you."
"Like we would've let that asshole ruin your birthday," Evan said.
April laughed slightly, swiping at the tears on her cheeks as everyone murmured their agreement, and then she took a breath as she stepped back to the table, reaching for the knife to cut the cake.
A short while later everybody was preparing to leave, plates and containers of food shoved into their hands by Nathan, who insisted he didn't want or need that many leftovers.
"Do you want us to stay and help clean up?" April asked as Nathan walked with her to the door.
Nathan looked at her as though she were crazy. "April, it's your birthday. You shouldn't even clean your own kitchen. Make Simon do it."
April laughed as Nathan hugged her, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek before he pulled away.
Simon reached for April's hand as he approached and they said their goodbyes as they stepped from the house.
Sometime later Simon was lying in bed, flipping listlessly through a magazine while he waited for April to get out of the shower.
The bathroom door opened after a few minutes and Simon looked up, watching as April stepped out, rubbing her hair with a towel. She shook her hair out, tousling it with her fingers as she turned to throw the towel back into the bathroom.
Simon placed his magazine on his bedside table as April climbed into bed and he looked back at her when he felt her hand on his chest.
"I know you want to talk about what happened tonight, but can it wait?" she asked, looking uncertainly at him.
He nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"It's just been a really long day, and I'm tired-"
"April, it's fine," Simon said, raising one hand to touch her cheek. "Really. We can talk about it whenever you're ready to."
She smiled and he leaned forward to kiss her before they turned off their lights and settled into bed.
It was the following night, as they were getting ready for bed again, that April sat down on the bed, looking wary but determined.
Simon watched as she settled into a cross-legged position, and she tucked her hair behind her ears before she looked up at him.
"Okay, what do you want to know?" she murmured, clasping her hands in her lap and taking a deep breath.
"What I really want to know," Simon began hesitantly, "is what he meant when he mentioned that night in your room."
April nodded, glancing down at her hands. "I figured."
"You don't... you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I'm not going to force you or anything," Simon said quickly, shifting closer to her.
April frowned slightly, waving a hand at him. "I can talk about it, I just haven't thought about it in a long time."
"Did he..." Simon frowned, looking uncomfortable as he plucked a piece of lint from his pajama bottoms. "I mean, he didn't..."
"No," April replied, and Simon looked relieved. April took another deep breath before she continued. "I was fourteen, almost fifteen, and it was just before he left. He'd been out drinking, like always, and came home late, long after my mom and I had gone to bed." She paused and frowned slightly, rolling the edge of the bed sheets between her fingers. "I was asleep when he came into my room, and woke up when I... when I felt him get into bed with me. His hand kind of... went down the front of my shorts, and he called me by my mom's name, so it was obvious he was too drunk to realize he was in the wrong room. It had never happened before, though, and it just... freaked me out. I jumped out of bed, yelling for him to get out of my room. He had the decency to look disgusted when he realized where he was, and he told me not to tell my mom about it." April laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. "Like she would've believed me."
Simon was quiet a moment before he spoke. "Did... did it ever happen again?"
April shook her head. "No. I started locking my door after that, and he left a couple of weeks later."
Simon fell silent, staring down at his hands.
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" he asked finally, looking up at April.
"I honestly didn't think about it. It's almost like I forgot about it until tonight." April bit her lip as she looked up at him. "You're not mad that I didn't, are you?"
Simon stared at her, frowning slightly. "Of course not."
April sighed, looking down at her hands. "When he kept calling me, and when I saw him last night, it was like he'd never been gone. He always had this way of speaking when he wanted me to do something, and I always obeyed, because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't. I didn't realize it would still have an effect on me." She paused, pressing her lips together tightly. "He always used to tell me how worthless I was, how stupid I was, and he said it all over again last night, and it was like I was seven years old again."
Simon shifted closer to her, taking her face in his hands and looking intently at her.
"You are not stupid, and you are definitely not worthless. Don't ever think that you are."
April glanced down again, and when she looked back up, tears shone in her eyes.
"Do you love me, Simon?" she asked softly.
Simon frowned, running his fingers through her hair. "You know I do."
"Tell me," she whispered.
"I love you, April," he said, kissing her gently before pulling her into a tight hug.
She pulled away after a minute, sniffling as she wiped her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, sighing softly.
"Okay, you need to stop apologizing," Simon said, raising his eyebrows at her. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
April smiled slightly and Simon leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead before sliding off the bed and walking over to his dresser.
"I meant to give you this last night," he said, pulling a small wrapped package from his sock drawer, "but didn't really get the chance." He settled back down on the bed across from April and handed her the gift, smiling crookedly. "We'll just pretend it's still your birthday."
April laughed, sniffling lightly as she worked her fingers under the edge of the wrapping paper, tugging it off and tossing it aside. She frowned curiously as she opened the black box and then she gasped softly.
"Simon, it's beautiful," she murmured, pulling the necklace from the box and resting the pendant in her palm, tilting it slightly and watching the sapphire shine brightly. She touched her finger lightly to the tiny diamond accents that surrounded the brilliant blue stone and grinned a little.
"You know, it sort of matches the earrings Nathan gave me," she said, glancing up at Simon.
"I know," he replied, looking a little put out.
"Did you two plan that?"
"No, but he knew what I was getting you. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying to show me up to steal you from me."
April grinned. "Well, I think if it came down to a choice between the two of you, I'd definitely choose Nathan."
Simon's face fell. "Oh, that's just cold."
April giggled and leaned forward to touch her lips to Simon's.
"I love it," she murmured, and felt him smile against her mouth. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied, burying his hands in her hair as he kissed her again.
April pulled away and stood to put the necklace safely in her jewelry box, tossing the wrapping paper into the trash can before she turned her lamp off and slid under the covers. She pressed herself to Simon's side and he slipped his arm around her, holding her to him.
"Would you really pick my dad over me?" he asked quietly after a few minutes.
"In a heartbeat," April replied.
There was a beat and then they began to laugh, April pressing her face to Simon's shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.
When their laughter died down April turned onto her stomach, placing her hand on Simon's chest as she looked at him.
"Of course I'd choose you," she said softly.
"I know," Simon replied, his smile ghostly in the dark.
April pulled herself up to kiss him.
"I love you," she whispered against his mouth.
"I love you too."
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Lindsay (nylana)
Rating: PG-13 (language, violence)
Genre: Angst, Drama
Word Count: 7,849
Characters/Pairings: April, Simon, Sam, Nathan, Evan, Penny (April/Simon, Evan/Penny)
Summary: Everything the father of a family says must inspire one or the other. - Joseph Joubert
April sat down heavily in her chair, fighting the headache that had sprung up during her meeting with Harrison and his Security Adviser.
She propped her elbows on the desk, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with her fingers.
After a few minutes she sighed and turned her attention to the messages her secretary had left while she was out of the office. She flipped disinterestedly through them, thinking none of them were important enough to deal with right now.
She started to drop the stack of messages back onto her desk when she noticed the very last one. She froze, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
Garrett Newcastle. Says he's your father.
April could imagine Laurie writing the note, could envision the skeptical look on her face, and she stared at the phone number.
"April?"
She gasped softly as she looked up to see Nathan standing in the doorway of her office.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his expression concerned as he looked at her.
"Fine," she said, forcing a smile as she crumpled the message in her fist, hoping he couldn't see her hands shaking.
Her phone startled her awake later that night and she glanced at the clock, wondering who the hell was calling so late. Simon groaned, his arm pressing against her waist as he shifted behind her.
"Don't answer it," he mumbled sleepily, his breath warm against her shoulder.
"It might be work," she replied as she fumbled for her phone.
Simon groaned again and rolled over as April placed the phone against her ear.
"Hello?" she said, propping herself up on her elbow.
"April? It's Dad."
The familiar voice sent a chill down April's spine, bringing forth a flood of memories, and her breath hitched in her throat.
He said her name again and she slapped her phone shut, clenching it tightly in her hand as she pressed it to her mouth.
"Who was it?" Simon asked, his voice muffled by his pillow.
"Wrong number," April murmured.
Something in her voice must have caught Simon's attention because he turned over and sat up behind her, placing a hand on her waist.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly.
She glanced back at him, noticing his worried expression. She shook her head and gave him a small smile.
"Nothing. Everything's fine. Go back to sleep."
She touched her lips lightly to his and lay back down on her side. Simon pressed against her back, draping his arm over her once more.
The display of her phone lit up and she jabbed the button on the side, silencing the ringer before it could go off. When the call ended, she opened her phone again and turned it off before placing it back on her bedside table.
Simon went almost immediately back to sleep, but April lay awake, staring at the wall.
Simon sighed softly after a while and rolled over, his foot brushing April's leg as he adjusted his position.
She glanced over her shoulder at him and then slipped carefully out of bed, looking back at him as she quietly opened the bedroom door. She smiled slightly at his arm hanging over the edge of the bed; she'd always found the way he tended to sprawl when he was asleep endearing.
She closed the door gently behind her and walked into the living room, making her way around the shadowy furniture to stand by the window. She leaned forward to rest her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes.
She wondered why her father was trying to get in touch with her all of a sudden, why he wanted so badly to see her. She frowned slightly, hating all of the memories that were rising to the surface, memories she'd tried so hard to keep away ever since she left home.
The sound of her father's voice echoed in her ears and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She thought about the certain tone he used when he wanted her or her mother to do something, and she thought about the times her mother ignored it. She remembered crying as she watched him hit her mother; she was terrified that one day he might come after her like that, and she always made sure to listen to and obey that tone.
She shivered again and opened her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to force the memories away. She hadn't thought about them in over ten years, and she wasn't going to dwell on them now.
She stared down at the street, thinking about getting back in bed and seeing if she could go back to sleep, and then froze when she saw the battered truck parked in front of her building. It was conspicuously out of place in this neighborhood, and her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she tried to tell herself that it couldn't be him, that there wasn't any way he could've found out where she lived.
She'd almost convinced herself that it was just a random truck when she saw the flare of a lighter, followed shortly by a barely visible puff of white smoke.
"It's not him," she whispered fiercely, closing her eyes and tightening her grip on herself to try to stop trembling. "It's not."
She jumped, gasping softly, when she heard the roar of the truck's engine. She looked back down at the street and watched the truck pull away from the curb. When it disappeared from sight she let out her breath in a loud whoosh, stepping back from the window and sinking down onto the couch.
She rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands, willing her breathing to slow and her heart to stop hammering inside her chest.
She took a ragged breath after a moment, swiping at the tears on her cheeks before running her fingers through her hair. She suddenly felt exhausted and she stood, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed and curl up next to Simon and try to forget about this whole mess.
The next morning, she didn't turn her phone back on until she was sure Simon was in the shower, and wasn't surprised when the voicemail notification popped up.
She bit her lip as she looked at it before finally dialing her voicemail and raising the phone to her ear.
"April, it's Dad. I'm in DC for a few days, thought maybe I could see you. Call me."
She could hear that edge in his voice on the last two words, making it sound more like a command than a request, and even now, some fifteen years after he'd walked out, she felt the familiar fear welling up inside of her.
Her grip on the phone tightened and she closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn't a little girl anymore, and she wasn't going to let those old feelings control her life. She took a deep breath and deleted the message, closing her phone and tossing it onto the bed.
Simon emerged from the bathroom as she was slipping her shoes on, and he kissed her when she straightened.
"When are you on?" she asked, shrugging her suit jacket on and reaching for her phone.
"Two. Lunch before my shift starts?"
April nodded, smiling slightly. "Sure."
Simon followed her from the bedroom, stepping around her to walk into the kitchen when she stopped to get her bag from one of the chairs at the table. She grabbed her purse from the table by the door and dropped her phone inside.
"I'll see you later," she called, making sure she had her keys before slipping her purse onto her shoulder. "Love you."
"Love you too," Simon replied, his words punctuated by the sound of the refrigerator door closing.
Later that afternoon April was at her desk, staring intently at the budget report in front of her and trying to ignore the fact that there were still at least three hours before she could consider going home.
Her phone rang and she snatched up the receiver, pressing it to her ear.
"April Newcastle," she said distractedly, underlining something in the report.
"Don't hang up."
There was the edge again and April stared at the report on her desk without really seeing it, her hand tightening around the phone.
"What do you want?" she asked finally.
"Well, like I said in the message I left you last night that you couldn't be bothered to return, I'm in town and I want to see you."
"Why?" April said, gripping her pen so tightly her hand hurt. "Why do you want to see me so badly? I haven't heard from you for fifteen years and now you all of a sudden want to see me?"
"April-"
"You know what, I don't care," April said angrily, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "I don't want to see you. Stop calling me."
April slammed the phone down hard and took a shaky breath as she rocked back in her chair, raking her trembling hands through her hair. She glanced at the report on her desk and then pushed herself to her feet, feeling the sudden urge to get out of her office.
She walked aimlessly through the corridors, eyes on her feet and ignoring everyone she passed until she ran smack into Sam outside of Harrison's office.
She stumbled back a step and Sam reached for her, a bemused smile on his face as he steadied her. His smile faded as he looked closer at her face.
"Everything all right?"
April nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, fine."
"You don't normally pace the hallways when you're fine," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at her.
April sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I'm just a little stressed out."
"Well, tomorrow should be better," Sam said, smiling encouragingly.
April looked up at him, nonplussed. "How come?"
"Tomorrow's your birthday," Sam said slowly, frowning slightly.
"Oh," April murmured, shaking her head slightly, "right."
Sam stared intently at her. "Are you sure you're all right? What's got you so stressed? Maybe I can help."
"You can't," she said vaguely, her eyes on the floor.
Sam's frown deepened as he looked at her, and he wanted to say something, but he wasn't quite sure what.
April looked back up at him, another forced smile on her face. "I'm fine, Sam, really. Don't worry about me."
Sam wanted to tell her that was impossible, but couldn't quite bring himself to say the words out loud.
"I have to get back to work," April said, starting to move past Sam. "I'll see you later."
Sam watched her until she disappeared around the corner, and then turned to head back to his own office.
Her phone rang later that night as she was putting away the dishes in the drain rack and she fumbled it from her pocket, flipping it open and pressing it to her ear as she grabbed a glass from the rack.
"Hello?" she said, stretching to place the glass in the cabinet.
"You really need to stop hanging up on me, sweetheart."
The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering against the floor, and she gripped the edge of the counter.
"I told you to stop calling me," she said, forcing toughness into her voice that she didn't really feel.
He laughed softly and April shivered.
"That's not how this works. You do what I say, not the other way around." He paused. "I want to see you."
"No," April breathed, her hand tightening on the counter as she swayed slightly.
"Excuse me?"
His voice dropped dangerously and she felt her resolve starting to slip.
"I said... I said no." She took a steadying breath. "I already told you I don't want to see you, and I'm not going to. Stop calling."
She ended the call and blocked the number before he could call back, clutching her phone in her hands and struggling against the tears that stung her eyes. She gasped sharply, feeling as though she couldn't catch her breath. She'd never stood up to her father before, and she'd now done it twice in one day; it was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
She looked down, staring at the glass on the floor, and thought back to when she was eight years old, washing dishes after dinner one night.
Her dad was watching TV in the living room and she was trying to be as quiet as she could; he always got mad when she made too much noise.
She rose slightly on her toes, reaching for the faucet handle to rinse the plate in her hand, and she froze as the stool she was standing on wobbled slightly. She held her breath, waiting to see if he'd heard it. She let out her breath when she didn't hear the familiar sound of his chair creaking that signaled he was getting up, and she reached for the faucet again, rinsing the dish quickly before placing it carefully in the drain rack.
She reached for another plate, wincing as it bumped against the side of the sink and sloshed water over the edge of the counter. She gasped, recoiling and taking an involuntary step back, right off the stool. She fell back, landing hard on the floor; the plate she still clutched in her hand shattered against the tile.
"God damn it, April!" her father yelled from the living room.
She heard the creak of his chair and scrambled to push herself to her feet. Her hand landed on one of the larger plate shards and the ceramic bit into her palm, raking sharply along her skin and making her cry out. She snatched her hand up, staring as blood welled from the gash on her palm.
Her father appeared in the doorway and April looked up at him, biting her lip in an effort to stop the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.
He took in the scene before him, his eyes quickly moving over the shattered bits of plate and April sitting on the floor before his gaze landed on her hand. He frowned down at her a moment and then knelt, taking her arms and pulling her to her feet. He led her into the bathroom and told her to hold her hand over the sink. He turned on the tap and cool water ran over her palm; she watched as it swirled down the drain, red at first, then pink, then clear.
He turned the water off and stood still a moment, waiting to see if more blood would rise. When none did, he lifted her onto the counter and took her hand in his. His fingers were gentle as he inspected the wound, and April bit her lip again to keep from gasping at the sporadic bursts of pain that radiated out from the gash. Blood oozed from the cut as he prodded the skin around it and he held her hand under the water once again.
"Not deep enough for stitches," he finally muttered, and bent to rummage around under the sink. He had a roll of gauze in his hand when he straightened and he patted her skin dry before he carefully wound the bandage around her hand. He swore under his breath when he couldn't find the scissors in the drawer, and pulled out his pocketknife, using it to cut the end of the bandage before securing it in place.
"Too tight?" he murmured, glancing up at her, his blue eyes intense.
She shook her head, the corner of her mouth rising in a hesitant smile.
He tossed the gauze back under the sink and then reached up to open the medicine cabinet. He took down the bottle of children's aspirin and shook two pills into her uninjured palm, reaching behind her to fill the cup on the counter with water.
Once she'd taken the medicine, he lifted her off the counter; she watched as he put the pill bottle away, and then he turned to face her.
"Get back out there and clean up the mess you made, and then finish doing the dishes. And if you break any more, you'll be grounded for a week."
April's smile faded as she watched him walk from the bathroom and she stood still a moment until he called her name in his warning voice.
She scurried from the bathroom and back into the kitchen, trying not to cry as she swept up the broken plate and finished washing the dishes.
Her hand was throbbing when she finally went to bed, and her stomach was upset from her struggles to keep her tears at bay.
He grounded her anyway for not getting all of the pieces of broken plate swept up, and for missing a few drops of blood that had smeared on the kitchen floor.
The sound of someone saying her name startled her from the memory and she gasped softly, looking up. Simon was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning slightly as he looked at her.
"What happened?" he asked, his eyes dropping to the pieces of glass sparkling dully on the floor. His frown deepened as he started towards her. "You're bleeding."
"What?" April murmured, her brow creasing slightly.
"Your leg," he said, pointing.
April looked down and noticed the scratch on her leg, just above her ankle; she stared at the thin line of blood that trickled down and frowned slightly. She started to move and then froze when Simon yelled for her to stop.
"Jesus, April, there's glass all over the floor and you're barefoot. Wait a minute."
He stepped back and retrieved the broom from next to the refrigerator. He swept the glass up and threw it into the trashcan before taking April's hand and leading her from the kitchen.
He sat her down on the couch and settled beside her, staring intently at her face.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "I called your name three times when I got home, and then I walked into the kitchen and you were standing there, staring off into space with shattered glass all around your feet." He paused, staring closely at her face. "And you look like you've been crying."
April sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry, it's just..." She hesitated, looking uncertainly at Simon for a moment. "Work was just really stressful today."
Simon looked skeptical and April smiled at him, taking his hand in hers.
"I'm fine, really. It was just a bad day, but it's better now that you're home."
"You sure?" Simon asked, still looking concerned.
"Yeah," April said, nodding and pulling him to her for a kiss.
April awoke the next morning to Simon's head resting on her stomach, his fingers tracing random patterns on her skin, and she smiled as she looked at him.
"Morning," she murmured.
Simon grinned at her and moved to kiss her.
"Happy birthday," he said softly.
"Thank you," she replied, her smile widening as she kissed him again.
"C'mon, I made you breakfast," he said as he pushed himself to his knees.
"You made me breakfast?" April asked as she sat up, her tone amused. "I can't believe you got up early to make me breakfast, are you even working today?"
"No, which is fortunate, because I have to go over to Dad's to get the house ready for your party tonight."
"Mmm, I love when you get all domestic," April said, grinning broadly at him. "Have you got a French maid outfit to wear?"
Simon snorted laughter as he leaned toward her, pushing her back down on the bed.
"I'd rather see you in that," he said, his hand sliding up under her shirt.
April giggled. "I bet you would."
Simon grinned and pressed himself against her as he captured her lips in a fiery kiss.
When they finally emerged from the bedroom, breakfast was cold, and April was almost late for work, but she was in far too good a mood to care.
The day passed in a flurry of birthday wishes and cards, and several jokes about turning 30 that made April roll her eyes even as she laughed. All of that combined with the fact that her father didn't try to call her again pushed all thoughts of him from her mind.
It might have been a perfect day if not for the sudden landslide of work April found herself buried under as the afternoon wore on.
It was just after five o'clock when she called Simon.
"What do you mean you're still at work?" he asked incredulously. "The party's at 6:30, it kind of looks weird if the guest of honor is late."
"I know, and I'm sorry, but I need to finish this before I leave. Look, why don't you bring me my dress for tonight, so I can change here and head straight to your dad's once I get off. It's hanging on the closet door. And those red heels you said you liked, the ones with the strap."
Simon was quiet a minute. "April, you have three pairs of red heels with straps," he said finally, "and I kind of like them all."
April grinned, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Then pick your favorites. I trust your judgment."
He turned up a half hour later and she inspected the shoes he'd picked out.
"These are your favorites?"
"Well, not exactly. My favorites are those really high ones with the little strap in the back-"
"The ones that kill my feet?" April said, the corner of her mouth rising.
"But they make your legs look amazing," Simon said earnestly.
April laughed and Simon grinned.
"I thought about bringing those, but I decided these matched the dress better."
April smiled as she kissed him. "Thank you."
"You want me to wait?" Simon asked, glancing at the work piled on her desk.
"No, you go on to your dad's. I'll try not to be too late."
Simon kissed her once more before he left, and April settled behind her desk again.
Later that night she stepped from her car, checking her watch. It was closer to seven than she would've liked, but at least she was only a half hour late.
She adjusted her dress and tugged her sweater closer around her, and then started across the road, shivering slightly in the damp chill that had descended with the afternoon's rain showers.
She had just reached the sidewalk in front of Nathan's house when she heard footsteps behind her and somebody saying her name.
She turned, frowning, and then took an involuntary step back when she saw her father crossing the road. He passed in front of the streetlamp, casting a long shadow on the wet pavement; the light caught his blond hair, close cropped as it always had been, though the color seemed lighter than she remembered. The way he dressed hadn't changed, however: scuffed boots, worn jeans, and an old flannel shirt, worn open over a plain white t-shirt.
"Did you follow me here?" she asked in disbelief.
"I told you, I wanted to see you," Garrett Newcastle said as he stepped up onto the curb.
"And I said I didn't want to see you."
She turned and moved to continue down the sidewalk.
"April, stop."
She froze in place, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. She hated that he still had this kind of control over her, and she hated that he knew it.
"What do you want?" she asked desperately as she turned to face him.
"I've seen you on TV," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets as he moved towards her. "Giving those briefings and doing those press conferences. You've done pretty well for yourself."
April crossed her arms tightly over her chest and didn't respond.
"How much do you make?"
"None of your business," April snapped. "Is that why you're here? You want me to give you money?"
"Figure you owe me."
"Owe you for what?"
"For raising you. For putting up with your bullshit for fifteen years."
April stared at him, amazed and disgusted. "I don't owe you a damn thing."
She turned on her heel and started down the sidewalk once more.
"Come back here."
"No!" April yelled, whirling to face him again. "No! You don't control me anymore and you don't get to tell me what to do. Stay the fuck away from me. Just leave me alone."
"Don't you dare talk to me like that," Garrett said, his voice dangerous as he stepped closer to her. "I am your father."
"No, you... you are just... a glorified sperm donor. You were never my father."
She turned and had only taken a couple of steps when he grabbed her from behind, spinning her roughly around and holding her in place. She tried to pull away from him but his grip tightened painfully and she gasped.
"Listen to me, sweetheart," he said, pitching his voice low and angling his head to see her face. She looked away and he grabbed her chin with one hand, his fingers biting into her skin as he forced her to look at him. "Listen. I will always control you, because you're weak. You're worthless, April, always have been. You're just one big, unfortunate mistake that ruined my life."
April couldn't stop the tears that spilled from her eyes or the sob that escaped her lips, but as Garrett smirked down at her, the old hurt diminished and was replaced by hate. She brought her heel down hard on his foot and when he yelled, releasing his hold on her, she gave him a hard shove before she turned and ran up the sidewalk. She could hear him behind her and as she rounded the corner onto the path that led to Nathan's front door, stumbling a little in her heels, she realized she'd never been more relieved to see Secret Service agents walking towards her.
She pushed past them and then gasped sharply when she heard her father shout her name. She turned to see the agents holding him tightly between them.
She heard the front door of the house open and looked back to see Nathan step out, followed closely by Simon.
"What's going on?" Nathan asked, his brow furrowed as he and Simon approached April.
She found she couldn't answer, humiliation burning in her stomach and bringing tears to her eyes. Nathan turned his attention to the agents holding Garrett.
"She just came tearing around the corner, this guy hot on her heels."
Simon's expression darkened as he stepped around April, and she edged closer to Nathan as she watched Simon approach her father.
"Who the hell are you?" Simon asked.
Garrett grinned, turning his gaze to April.
"Tell him who I am, sweetheart."
April looked away and Nathan glanced at her before putting his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Simon glanced back and took in April's expression before he looked back at Garrett.
"I didn't ask her, I asked you. Who are you?"
"I'm her father," he replied with a sneer.
Simon looked at April, surprised. She nodded reluctantly, and Simon frowned as he looked back at Garrett.
"Well, she clearly doesn't want to have anything to do with you, so I think you should just leave."
"Who the fuck are you?" Garrett asked, his lip curling as he looked at Simon.
"I'm the man who would be more than happy to arrest you for harassing a federal employee."
"More like assaulting," April muttered.
Simon turned to look at her and she shifted to pull her sweater down to show him her arm. He looked at the bright red mark and shook his head.
"Oh, well, that's even better," Simon said, smiling humorlessly as he looked at Garrett.
"You don't have any proof it was me."
"I've got at least three people standing here right now who will happily say they saw you grab her. Isn't that right?" Simon said, still glaring at April's father.
The two agents on either side of Garrett nodded.
"Absolutely," Nathan murmured, tightening his grip on April.
Garrett's eyes flickered to look at Nathan. "And who are you?"
"More of a father to her than you've ever been."
There was a commotion by the door and Simon, April, and Nathan turned to see Sam step outside, flanked by three Secret Service agents. He arched an eyebrow as he looked at the group of people in front of him, and he descended the steps to the path, coming to stand on April's other side.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, looking down at her.
"Well, isn't this touching," Garrett said before April could answer, "so many men coming to your rescue. Tell me, did she sleep with all of you?" Garrett asked, his gaze passing over everyone assembled in the yard before he looked back at April, smirking. "That's about the only reason I could see for all of you giving a shit about her. Did she sleep with the President too? Bet that's how she got her job."
Before anybody else could move, Simon's fist collided with Garrett's face in a punch that would've sent him to the ground had the two agents not been holding him.
Remarkably Garrett laughed, spitting blood on the grass before he looked at April again.
"Oh, you must be good. Almost makes me wish I'd kept on, that night in your room."
"You son of a bitch," Simon snarled, pulling his fist back again.
"Simon, no," April said, stepping forward quickly and grabbing his arm. "He's not worth it."
Simon looked down at her and then sighed, running a hand over his face.
"Get him out of here."
The agents started to lead Garrett down the path and Simon turned, slipping his arm around April's waist and guiding her towards the house.
Evan and Penny were waiting by the door when April and Simon stepped inside.
"We were sort of... watching. What happened?" Evan asked.
April looked at him, mouth open as if to reply, and then noticed everyone else had come inside. She could feel their eyes on her and she dropped her gaze to the floor, wiping her palms on her skirt before she turned and pushed past Sam on her way to the back of the house.
Simon started to go after her and Penny stepped in front of him, touching her hand lightly to his chest.
"Let me talk to her," she said softly.
Simon sighed and nodded, and Penny turned away, stepping past Sam and heading back to find April.
She saw the bathroom light on and knocked carefully on the door.
"April?" she said softly.
The door cracked slightly and Penny pushed it open, slipping inside.
April was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, a tissue pressed to her nose.
"Was that... was that your dad?" Penny asked hesitantly as she leaned against the counter.
April nodded, sniffling a little.
"Are you okay?" Penny asked after a minute, knowing it was a stupid question but unsure of what else to say.
"No," April replied, shaking her head. "I'm so embarrassed."
"Embarrassed?" Penny said, frowning slightly. "He's the one who made a fool of himself in front of everyone."
"I never wanted you all to meet him, especially not like this."
"Why did he turn up, anyway?"
"He wanted money. He said I owed him." April laughed shakily, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, and Penny scowled.
"Bastard," she muttered, disgusted. "Did he hurt you?"
"He grabbed me," April said, gesturing vaguely at her arm.
Penny sighed, looking sadly at April, and they fell silent.
"I heard what he said," Penny said quietly after a minute. "About that night in your room."
"God," April muttered, placing her hands over her face. "I haven't told Simon about that. I didn't even think about it until... until he brought it up. I know Simon's going to ask about it, what if he gets mad that I never told him?"
Penny shook her head, staring intently at April.
"He's not going to be mad."
April looked at Penny a moment and then sighed, shaking her head.
"God, Pen, I don't know if I can go back out there."
Penny knelt in front of April and rested her hands on April's knees, peering up at her face.
"Everybody out there loves you and cares about you. Nobody is going to judge you, or blame you, or be upset with you."
April closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"How do I look?" she asked a moment later.
"A little smudged," Penny said, smiling gently as she ran her thumbs under April's eyes.
April laughed slightly and she and Penny stood. April checked her reflection, tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing the front of her dress. She stared at herself a moment before turning suddenly to Penny, pulling her into a hug. Penny held her tightly a moment, and then April pulled away, taking a deep breath before she opened the bathroom door.
When she and Penny stepped into the living room, Simon, Nathan, Sam, and Evan looked up and April took another breath.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, and was almost amused at the nearly identical frowns that appeared on their faces.
"What on Earth for?" Nathan said incredulously. "He's the one who should be sorry, don't you dare apologize."
April smiled a little sheepishly. "Is the party ruined?"
"Not at all. It's still early, and there's plenty of food, which you lot better eat because I haven't got room for it all in the refrigerator."
Everybody laughed and moved towards the kitchen, except for April, who sat down on the couch, and Simon, who came to sit beside her.
"You're not going to eat?" he asked, his eyes concerned as he looked at her.
"I'm not hungry right now, but you go on."
"I'm not really hungry either. Dad's got a little more room in the fridge than he thinks he does."
April smiled, shaking her head slightly, and Simon sat back against the cushions, taking her hand and tugging her gently towards him. April settled against his side, laying her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her.
"Is he the one who called the other night?" Simon asked quietly after a few minutes.
April nodded, picking at a loose thread near one of the buttons on his shirt.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
April shrugged. "I don't know. I was hoping he'd just... go away again."
"April-"
"Can we talk about it later?" April asked, looking up at Simon. "Please?"
Simon nodded and pressed his lips to the top of April's head as she rested her head on his shoulder again.
The rest of the night was largely uneventful, though entertaining when Sam and Nathan entered into a spirited debate on foreign policy.
April shook her head when they turned to her for her opinion.
"Considering there isn't a national government yet outside of our own, both of your points are pretty much moot right now."
"There will be someday," Nathan said, and then grinned. "Sam here wants to be the first Prime Minister of a new Great Britain."
"Shut up, Nathan," Sam said, shifting uncomfortably beside April as he stretched his arm along the back of the couch.
"Is that true?" April murmured, turning slightly to look at him.
"Something that came up in idle conversation," Sam replied, balling up his napkin and lobbing it at Nathan.
"What?" Nathan said, laughing as he batted the napkin away. "You'd make a good Prime Minister."
"Too bad, though, since Sam's never allowed to leave," April said, looking at Sam with raised eyebrows.
"Oh, really?" Sam said, arching an eyebrow back at her. "Says who?"
"Says me."
Sam chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, and April grinned at him.
"Guess that's settled then," Nathan said, laughing as he stood to answer the phone.
Sam smiled at April, and she returned it before turning back towards Simon.
"That was Harrison," Nathan said as he came back in the room. "He said he's sorry he couldn't make it, but to tell you happy birthday and he'll have your present for you on Monday."
April smiled, grateful that at least one person hadn't been exposed to the unexpected and unwanted appearance of her father.
The evening ended with cake and presents. April thanked each person as she opened her gifts: a book of poetry from Sam, a pair of sapphire earrings from Nathan, and a purse from Evan and Penny.
"I picked the color," Evan said, grinning at her. His smile faded when Penny elbowed him. "What? I did."
April laughed and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I love the color, thank you."
Evan beamed and nudged Penny with his arm. "See? She loves the color."
Penny shook her head, rolling her eyes, and April giggled.
Nathan slipped from the room and reappeared a few minutes later with a cake in his hands, the lit candles lending a glow to his face as Sam turned off the lights.
"You put thirty candles on that thing, didn't you," April said, giving Nathan a look as he set the cake on the dining room table.
Nathan's response was to grin and April pointed her finger at him. "Just wait until your next birthday."
Nathan waved a hand at her and she laughed, shaking her head.
Tears came unexpectedly to her eyes as they began to sing and she leaned against Simon, smiling when he put his arms around her and bent to kiss her cheek.
"All right, blow out the candles before you burn my house down," Nathan said when they'd finished.
"You're just asking for a smack, aren't you?" April said, laughing as she stepped to the table. She leaned down, pushing her hair behind her ears, and managed to blow out all of the candles on the first try, eliciting a cheer.
The lights came back on and April stared at everybody standing around her, feeling her throat tighten as tears filled her eyes again.
"This night could've gone really badly, if not for you guys," she said quietly, sniffling lightly. "Thank you."
"Like we would've let that asshole ruin your birthday," Evan said.
April laughed slightly, swiping at the tears on her cheeks as everyone murmured their agreement, and then she took a breath as she stepped back to the table, reaching for the knife to cut the cake.
A short while later everybody was preparing to leave, plates and containers of food shoved into their hands by Nathan, who insisted he didn't want or need that many leftovers.
"Do you want us to stay and help clean up?" April asked as Nathan walked with her to the door.
Nathan looked at her as though she were crazy. "April, it's your birthday. You shouldn't even clean your own kitchen. Make Simon do it."
April laughed as Nathan hugged her, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek before he pulled away.
Simon reached for April's hand as he approached and they said their goodbyes as they stepped from the house.
Sometime later Simon was lying in bed, flipping listlessly through a magazine while he waited for April to get out of the shower.
The bathroom door opened after a few minutes and Simon looked up, watching as April stepped out, rubbing her hair with a towel. She shook her hair out, tousling it with her fingers as she turned to throw the towel back into the bathroom.
Simon placed his magazine on his bedside table as April climbed into bed and he looked back at her when he felt her hand on his chest.
"I know you want to talk about what happened tonight, but can it wait?" she asked, looking uncertainly at him.
He nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"It's just been a really long day, and I'm tired-"
"April, it's fine," Simon said, raising one hand to touch her cheek. "Really. We can talk about it whenever you're ready to."
She smiled and he leaned forward to kiss her before they turned off their lights and settled into bed.
It was the following night, as they were getting ready for bed again, that April sat down on the bed, looking wary but determined.
Simon watched as she settled into a cross-legged position, and she tucked her hair behind her ears before she looked up at him.
"Okay, what do you want to know?" she murmured, clasping her hands in her lap and taking a deep breath.
"What I really want to know," Simon began hesitantly, "is what he meant when he mentioned that night in your room."
April nodded, glancing down at her hands. "I figured."
"You don't... you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I'm not going to force you or anything," Simon said quickly, shifting closer to her.
April frowned slightly, waving a hand at him. "I can talk about it, I just haven't thought about it in a long time."
"Did he..." Simon frowned, looking uncomfortable as he plucked a piece of lint from his pajama bottoms. "I mean, he didn't..."
"No," April replied, and Simon looked relieved. April took another deep breath before she continued. "I was fourteen, almost fifteen, and it was just before he left. He'd been out drinking, like always, and came home late, long after my mom and I had gone to bed." She paused and frowned slightly, rolling the edge of the bed sheets between her fingers. "I was asleep when he came into my room, and woke up when I... when I felt him get into bed with me. His hand kind of... went down the front of my shorts, and he called me by my mom's name, so it was obvious he was too drunk to realize he was in the wrong room. It had never happened before, though, and it just... freaked me out. I jumped out of bed, yelling for him to get out of my room. He had the decency to look disgusted when he realized where he was, and he told me not to tell my mom about it." April laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. "Like she would've believed me."
Simon was quiet a moment before he spoke. "Did... did it ever happen again?"
April shook her head. "No. I started locking my door after that, and he left a couple of weeks later."
Simon fell silent, staring down at his hands.
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" he asked finally, looking up at April.
"I honestly didn't think about it. It's almost like I forgot about it until tonight." April bit her lip as she looked up at him. "You're not mad that I didn't, are you?"
Simon stared at her, frowning slightly. "Of course not."
April sighed, looking down at her hands. "When he kept calling me, and when I saw him last night, it was like he'd never been gone. He always had this way of speaking when he wanted me to do something, and I always obeyed, because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't. I didn't realize it would still have an effect on me." She paused, pressing her lips together tightly. "He always used to tell me how worthless I was, how stupid I was, and he said it all over again last night, and it was like I was seven years old again."
Simon shifted closer to her, taking her face in his hands and looking intently at her.
"You are not stupid, and you are definitely not worthless. Don't ever think that you are."
April glanced down again, and when she looked back up, tears shone in her eyes.
"Do you love me, Simon?" she asked softly.
Simon frowned, running his fingers through her hair. "You know I do."
"Tell me," she whispered.
"I love you, April," he said, kissing her gently before pulling her into a tight hug.
She pulled away after a minute, sniffling as she wiped her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, sighing softly.
"Okay, you need to stop apologizing," Simon said, raising his eyebrows at her. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
April smiled slightly and Simon leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead before sliding off the bed and walking over to his dresser.
"I meant to give you this last night," he said, pulling a small wrapped package from his sock drawer, "but didn't really get the chance." He settled back down on the bed across from April and handed her the gift, smiling crookedly. "We'll just pretend it's still your birthday."
April laughed, sniffling lightly as she worked her fingers under the edge of the wrapping paper, tugging it off and tossing it aside. She frowned curiously as she opened the black box and then she gasped softly.
"Simon, it's beautiful," she murmured, pulling the necklace from the box and resting the pendant in her palm, tilting it slightly and watching the sapphire shine brightly. She touched her finger lightly to the tiny diamond accents that surrounded the brilliant blue stone and grinned a little.
"You know, it sort of matches the earrings Nathan gave me," she said, glancing up at Simon.
"I know," he replied, looking a little put out.
"Did you two plan that?"
"No, but he knew what I was getting you. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying to show me up to steal you from me."
April grinned. "Well, I think if it came down to a choice between the two of you, I'd definitely choose Nathan."
Simon's face fell. "Oh, that's just cold."
April giggled and leaned forward to touch her lips to Simon's.
"I love it," she murmured, and felt him smile against her mouth. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied, burying his hands in her hair as he kissed her again.
April pulled away and stood to put the necklace safely in her jewelry box, tossing the wrapping paper into the trash can before she turned her lamp off and slid under the covers. She pressed herself to Simon's side and he slipped his arm around her, holding her to him.
"Would you really pick my dad over me?" he asked quietly after a few minutes.
"In a heartbeat," April replied.
There was a beat and then they began to laugh, April pressing her face to Simon's shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.
When their laughter died down April turned onto her stomach, placing her hand on Simon's chest as she looked at him.
"Of course I'd choose you," she said softly.
"I know," Simon replied, his smile ghostly in the dark.
April pulled herself up to kiss him.
"I love you," she whispered against his mouth.
"I love you too."