Hi everyone! My name is Ashwini and I have been a huge Anne of Green Gables fan since I was merely eleven. This is my first try at writing AoGG fanfiction, so nothing would make me happier than a review so please don't leave without leaving one. :D I am completely okay with constructive criticism, but please be kind!

Also I do not own Anne of Green Gables. It is the property of the lovely L. .

Chapter One

There was a stony silence in the small blue sitting room, only a piteous sob that left his wife's shaking lips breaking it occasionally. Marilla had crashed into an armchair as soon as the letter had been passed on to her and she had not moved ever since. Davy and Dora flanked her but they might as well have been statues themselves. John Blythe held his weeping wife tenderly while trying to contain the lump that had formed in his own throat, his eyes hardly leaving his helpless son.

Gilbert stared blankly at the wall in front of him, shoulders hunched, muscles tout, fingers threaded through his hair. He had not uttered a single word since he had handed the letter to his worried mother. He had simply slid down the cold wall to the carpeted floor, his hands clenched in tight fists. Though his body shook frightfully, no tear had made its way down his pale cheeks.

Finally it was John who mustered up the courage to stand up. He had to harden his heart after all- there were many things to be taken care of. Someone had to go to Bolingbroke to meet with the police and complete all the formalities and the paperwork. There were letters that needed to be written to the people who loved Anne so dearly and there was the luminous task of answering the questions of the innocent two year old who was currently at Green Gables with Mrs. Lynde.

The night winds had begun their wild dances through the woods, the house sinking gradually into the darkness. All that had to be done could be done tomorrow, he thought. They all needed the night to process what had happened, especially Gilbert. He pressed a clean handkerchief in his wife's hands as he left her side and looked tentatively at the occupants of the room.

Before he could bring himself to speak, Dora nodded at him with assurance and gathered the stricken Marilla into her arms, whispering into her ear that she needed to sleep. He saw tears streaming silently down her cheeks as the young girl escorted her to the spare room, Davy in tow. His heart sank as he thought what this meant for Marilla, wishing he could do something to ease the pain in her heart. But there was nothing much to do- there was only a truth that needed to be accepted.

He forced himself to turn to his son and knelt onto the ground beside him.

"Gilbert, you need to be brave." He muttered in a hushed voice, trying to shake Gilbert to his senses. His hazel eyes met his fathers' in a sudden movement and John felt his heart sink at the look into his son's eyes. Gilbert shook his head furiously, his hands gripping his forearms for support. John drew a shaky breath before placing his hands on Gilbert's shivering shoulders.

"It isn't your fault, son." He said to him in a low voice, just as tears started to form into Gilbert's reddened eyes. "You know that, don't you?"

He looked at John levelly. For a minute, it looked as though he was finally going to say something, and John watched him patiently. But he only pushed himself up and away from his father and disappeared into his room.

Twelve Months later

Once again, Gilbert Blythe was shaken out of his peaceful slumber in the middle of the night by the familiar floating sensation. His mind was playing games with him again. At least he was aware that it was nothing but a dream this time. That seemed like an improvement at first.

It might be easier to run from it. He thought.

But as much as he tried to push the unwelcome vision away, the realer it got.

He stood in the middle of a meadow this time, the sun too bright for his tired eyes. He tried to shield them with the palm of his hand, yet the scorching heat managed to get in. Eyes crinkling, he saw a slender figure moving towards him through the grass, draped in a white muslin dress. Her form seemed a bit blurred, yet the fierce red hair that contrasted her clothing was indeed unmistakable.

"Gilbert!" she said, her voice music to his ears. "Gilbert, I'm going home!"

No! He screamed inside, yet no words seemed to leave his mouth. He shifted his hand away from his eyes even as the sun continued to irritate his skin.

He would get burnt a thousand times if only he could tell her not to go.

"Say something, Darling! My train will arrive any moment now." Her voice rang in his ears.

No! Wait! He tried to say but couldn't move his mouth an inch. She must stay. She must not board the train. Otherwise the accident will happen and then she'll be gone. Again.

But she was only moving further away from him.

"No, Anne, don't go! Please don't go! Anne!" his heart raced as he shouted.

But she was gone. All he could see was a tiny dot of white against the blazing sun.

Anne was gone.

His eyes shot open at the sudden realization and he looked around, panting, still wishing to stop her. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room only to find out that he was lying in his bed sixty miles from Avonlea, sweating heavily. Once again, the reality crept into his heart with a chill. It was a dream. He would never be able to stop Anne from going. She was gone.

He blinked slowly, trying to get back to the reality and realized that James's round grey eyes were peering at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. His two year old son had managed to climb the bed with his tiny feet and now knelt onto the mattress beside him.

"Dad, get up, get up, get up!" he cried excitedly, tapping at Gilbert's forehead. The innocent boy hadn't noticed the terrified look on his father's face. "You promised that we would go to the shore today."

Gilbert gently moved his face away from James's and lightly touched the darling red curls that framed his little forehead.

"Yes he did." A voice came from the door before he could respond. Gilbert glanced up to see Winona standing there, her brown eyes sparkling. "But do you remember the other thing that he said?"

James squinted his eyes; trying to remember the conversation he had with both of them a few days before, wondering why Winona looked so stern.

"He said he would take me if I was a good boy." He finally spoke.

Winona nodded, glaring pointedly at him.

"Now, has James been a good boy?"

"Yes, I have!" he cried. "I woke up on time and I did not trouble Dad at all."

"Mum doesn't think so." She shook her head. "Does Dad get up this early on Sundays? You had promised me you would finish your breakfast first, then help me bathe Nora and then we would go upstairs together to wake up Dad." She stated. "Is this how good boys behave?"

"What do good boys do then?" he queried innocently, clearly desperate to spend some time with his father that day. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so easily convinced, as far as Gilbert knew.

Winona was probably thinking on similar lines. She chuckled at his naïve response heartily and held out her hand which he eagerly caught.

"Good boys listen to the elders. Now would you go and check if Nora is up if I tell you to?"

James nodded enthusiastically and jumped from the bed. As he sprinted out of the room to the other one, Winona walked towards the bed and sat down at the end. He sat up against the headboard and pulled his covers up. Winona always seemed to sense something was wrong with him. He did not want to get her more worried than she apparently was. He tried to look as normal as he could, but he never was any good at pretending. His head still hurt a bit and he was quite sure it showed on his strained face.

"You were dreaming again, weren't you?" she asked, her voice a little edgy.

Gilbert let out a sigh.

"Yes." He accepted. There was no point in hiding. "And this one was more vivid than any that I've had before."

The defeat in his voice seemed to make Winona a tad more serious, much to his despair. She had taken his dreams lightly at first, but the consistency had started to scare her. She had been trying for a few days to convince him to consult the psychiatrist who had a clinic up in Glen; he only hoped this wouldn't push her to do that again.

"I don't think this is good." She shook her head, her brown eyes worried. "I think it's time for you to accept that it's not your fault that she died. You need to forgive yourself, Gilbert. Otherwise you would never be able to start afresh. Let the past be where it belongs."

He stared at her in disbelief, for he had hoped at least she would be able to understand what he felt. She was being the one to talk about forgetting the past and a fresh start of life! He had seen her just a week before, clutching Alex's photograph to her chest, tearfully wishing him a happy birthday. But he decided against going that way. Winona seemed to be in a good mood that day and it strangely lifted his spirits when she acted that normal around him.

"I am trying." He simply said before hesitating. "But today is the day she….she died. And I could have stopped her from going. But she didn't. So it's natural if the nightmare was clearer this time."

He looked away from her face and out the window opposite the bed to avoid the sympathy in her gaze. He wished she would change the subject, which she did, much to his relief.

"I think you should go to the shore." She suggested gently. "Walk a bit, play with James. It would keep these thoughts off of your mind. I'd come to watch him if you-"

"No, you wouldn't." he stopped her midsentence, looking at her warningly. "You need to rest. I constantly remind you of that, yet you keep running around the house, doing chores."

"I like having something to do." she said absently. "It distracts me, Gilbert. And I do try to take care of my health. I promise."

Gilbert sighed.

"I just want you to be alright." He said softly.

"I am absolutely fine! Don't worry about me." She smiled and reached across to pat his hand. "I have a pretty decent doctor." She added cheekily.

He chuckled and lifted the covers.

"I really do want to go to the shore. Haven't spent time with my little lad for weeks." He said, almost to himself. "But it doesn't feel right to leave you alone with Nora. What if you need to lie down or a patient comes asking for me?"

"I have already asked Leslie to come over. She would be down before supper." She remarked.

"What about Mr. Moore?"

"Well, I believe she has talked to Captain Jim about that." She said and stood up to leave.

"Now get up and come down." She said. "The breakfast is almost ready. James wanted to eat omelets today so I made some- he needs to be fed well before you leave. He would be hungry in a minute if he runs along the shore with an empty stomach. You know how much he loves my mother's omelets with a bit of garlic and-"

She paused for a moment and then clasped her hands to her mouth as she saw the look of dislike on his face.

"Oh Gilbert!" she exclaimed. "I am such a goose! You don't like omelets with garlic in it, do you?" she eyed him cautiously. "Would you mind waiting for a bit? I'd see if I can fix something up for-"

"Winona," he said quietly, suddenly noticing the paleness in her cheeks. It was a sure sign that standing up for too long still exerted her greatly. "I wouldn't mind eating omelets with garlic for a day."

"But Gilbert-"she tried to protest.

"Please listen to me." he continued sincerely. "You don't have to do this for me. Just look after your health right now and forget the rest."

"I mean it." he continued before she could speak. "I know you feel sorry for what I am going through, but I can take care of it. At least I am trying to. Whenever I see you making efforts for me, it- it weighs me down."

"You shouldn't feel like that, Gilbert!" she said weakly, surprised at the sudden serious turn that their conversation had taken.

"But I do!" he protested. "It's bad enough that I can't give you anything, that I can't make you happy. Don't make it harder than that. You owe me nothing."

Winona frowned at his words. She did not seem to like the manner in which he spoke. He himself was surprised at the words he had dared to utter. They rarely had such serious conversations anymore.

"Gilbert Blythe," she muttered firmly. "I won't pretend I am happy, but that is not your fault. Stop blaming yourself for everything. And how could you say I owe you nothing? What you have done for me is worth a million. I can't even put into words how grateful I am. You have given me a much better life than I expected. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there. You gave me a home, you gave me something to look forward to."

"But I've never given you any love." He muttered, the words escaping his mouth before he could resist.

The silence stretched between them for a moment. Winona took a deep breath and looked at him gently, her eyes wet.

"Neither have I." she whispered. "How I wish I could give you that, Gilbert!"

"Me too." He said quietly.

Anne stared at the calendar that hung on her bedroom wall, her vision blurred with tears. One year had passed since she had last seen her darling Gilbert, her son James, dearest Marilla and her beloved Avonlea too. What a wonderful life she had lived there! She missed it terribly now, having lived in loneliness for so long.

Anne wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood up from the small bed. Her right ankle wasn't as strong as it was before, but she could walk without limping now. The doctor had said she would be allowed to travel after ten days. She was counting down hours till that.

"Anne, darling, don't strain that leg!"

She looked at the door, startled by the sudden interruption. Mrs. Julia Shirley stood there with a tray in her hand, looking concerned. She had brought Anne breakfast.

"Why, Aunt Julia, I could have come down myself!" she exclaimed as Julia put the tray down.

"Surely you would have. But you have to rest if you want to travel with that broken leg." She said.

Anne blinked at her.

"Travel?"

"Yes! I believe I have brought up not only breakfast but a good news too." She smiled and held out a letter.

"Is it Gilbert?" she asked as she grabbed it eagerly.

"No. But it's the next best thing." Julia said with a smile.

Anne looked down at the letter and tore the envelope in a moment. It was a brief letter, yet it contained relieving news. Anne gasped.

"It's from Fred Wright." She muttered. "Diana is coming here to meet me. that is wonderful news indeed! But Aunt Julia, it is rather baffling that he says that he is surprised to know that I am… alive!"

Julia raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I guess time would tell." She murmured, not sure what to say.

But how true that was, she had no idea.

Author's Note

I hope you guys liked this!

I know you guys have a lot of questions about the plot, but just keep reading! The story will switch between present day and flashbacks and that is how everything will be revealed. Let me know if you liked how I have decided to begin by leaving a review.

Thank you for reading! :)