Edit: I have decided to continue on with this story! Before I post the next chapter, I decided to polish the first one up a bit. A few small changes have been made, but most of the story is the same.

A/N: This idea popped into my head and I just had to write it! It's a twist on the scene between Anne and Gilbert in S1: E7- "Wherever You Are Is My Home." This is my first attempt at an Anne story, so please bear with me.

I reference Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte in this one-shot, a story which I do not own. I also use one direct quote from the book, which is in italics. I'll properly credit the quote in the author's note at the end, because it is the intellectual property of Charlotte Bronte, not I. The characters of Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester, who are mentioned in this story, belong to Charlotte Bronte. I cannot reiterate how much I do not own Jane Eyre. Please don't sue.

Also, the first three lines of dialogue in the story are directly from the episode. They're in italics. Some other lines, further along, are also from the episode, but I thought it might be too distracting to have randomly italicized lines stuck in the middle of the story. I'll properly credit them at the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own Anne of Green Gables or Anne With An E and am not making any profit off of this story. All rights go to Lucy Maude Montgomery and Moira Walley-Beckett.

Unearthly

"Gilbert, I am very sorry that I wasn't more sensitive about your father and what losing him really meant for you."

"It's water under the bridge."

"I know so much more now than I did then."

Anne sighed and blinked her eyes. Gilbert didn't like to see her in distress, though he often saw her in that very state. She always seemed to feel every emotion so intensely and her sensitivity was so...well, there was no other word for it but unearthly. There was an ethereal beauty about her, even in her sadness and pain. Nevertheless, he didn't like to see her unhappy.

Perhaps a joke would lighten the mood. "Oh, have you been practicing my mnemonic devices? So that you know more about the Maritimes?"

A look of confusion crossed Anne's face. Gilbert hoped that he hadn't said something that would cause an outburst of her fiery temper, especially when they had just finally started getting along.

He had almost opened his mouth to apologize when Anne smiled. A bubble of warmth rushed through him, softening the cold of his grief by a trifle.

"Nice boys never say people eat insects!" Anne laughed.

"You remember it! See, you know so much more now." If there was an antidote to the lingering sadness in his heart, it was making Anne laugh, Gilbert decided. Though, he couldn't quite explain the bundle of nerves in his stomach.

"I suppose I do." Anne flushed. "But that's not what I learned." She looked down, seeming unsure of herself. "I-um…" Silence filled the air.

Gilbert said gently, "What is it, Anne?"

"Well, your father had just been cruelly ripped from this world, so it seems only natural that you would be in the depths of despair. And I, well I've been in the depths of despair, too. Pain and loss seem to be my shadow, for no matter where I go, I cannot escape their darkness. And I thought that I could comfort you, so I told you about my troubles, but I know now it was a very selfish thing to do. I chastise myself for an act so insensitive as saying you were lucky. Because you aren't. You've suffered a great loss and I should have been assuaging your sorrow, not worsening it." Anne took a deep breath, losing herself from the pathos of her display to look at him in the eye with genuine vulnerability. "Can you ever forgive me?"

He felt a rush of affection for her poetic antics and sincere remorse. "Anne, don't feel bad about yourself. There is nothing to forgive. And you're assuaging my sorrow right now."

"How?"

"By being here." By being you, he wanted to say.

"I haven't done much for you, I don't think."

She had done more than she could ever know. "Yes, you have. With all the time I've spent away from school, I've needed someone to compete with, stimulate my intellect. And I have that now."

Gilbert noticed a faint blush on Anne's cheek. "I suppose you haven't had someone to spell out words with."

"Or someone to turn the simplest sentences into poetry." Gilbert tried to meet Anne's eyes, but she had bashfully looked down. "I can barely think of anyone else who would say 'assuaging' in a casual conversation."

Anne looked up and crossed her arms in indignation which, for once, seemed to be only teasing. "But you did! You just said I was assuaging your sorrow."

"Yes, but only because you said it first."

A mischievous smile crossed Anne's face and Gilbert felt his heart beat faster. "Spell it out for me."

"A-S-S-U-A-G-I-N-G." Gilbert smiled smugly. "You see, I can spell it."

"Maybe you can spell that one word, but…" Anne stopped, uncrossing her arms. "I've got a hard one for you, but I bet will be too onerous for you. O-N-E-R-O-U-S." She met his eyes, to challenge him.

"Oh really?" Gilbert smiled, enjoying this banter. "And what might that word be?"

"Truce." She extended her hand over the table, offering it to him in a handshake.

He looked into her eyes and saw a hint of vulnerability there, vulnerability over letting go of her animosity. A rush of happiness filled Gilbert's heart. He tried to steady his trembling hand as he accepted the handshake.

"T-R-U-C-E." They shared a smile, and after a moment, Gilbert reluctantly let go of her hand. "Moody would have gotten that wrong."

"He would've!" They chuckled together. "I'm glad that I've finally decided to raise my white flag and let go of this grudge. Especially now that I can help you, because I know just what I can do to assuage your sorrow. To help you find comfort in being an orphan." Gilbert's smile faded. He was an orphan, after all. It was just starting to sink in. "You can sometimes find a kindred spirit through a shared sorrow, you know," Anne said.

Gilbert blinked. Could he really be a kindred spirit to Anne? It seemed too good to be true. Twiddling his thumbs, he asked, "And you've done that?"

Anne met his eyes. "Yes, yes I have."

Gilbert couldn't stop but let a grin light up his face again. "And who might that kindred spirit be?"

"Jane Eyre! My kindred spirit is Jane Eyre," she exclaimed. Gilbert looked down, dejected. "Oh, I do love Charlotte Bronte. I can't count the number of times I've read that book. I feel as though reading about Jane's story on the page makes her as good of a kindred spirit as anyone I've ever met." Anne looked at him eagerly. "Have you read it? I'm sure she could be your kindred spirit, too."

"No, I can't say I have." Gilbert bit his lip, trying to numb the rush of disappointment that swept through him.

"Well, you most definitely should! Especially now that-now that you've lost someone. I hope that you can find the same comfort in it that I did. All throughout my childhood, I always felt like I wasn't so alone in the world when I read about another girl who lost her parents at such a young age, and had to live with people who were cruel to her and spend her days locked in an orphanage where they didn't appreciate her- well, Jane was locked away in a boarding school, which I suppose was similar enough to my situation. And she had look in the mirror every day and see a face she couldn't find any beauty in." A rush of passion for this book filled Anne's eyes.

Gilbert couldn't help but wish that he could give Anne a mirror to look at herself with. If she saw the passion in her eyes, he would think she'd have to be blind not to find beauty in herself and the well of sensitivity she carried. Just as he did.

"And I suppose that, even though you can't relate to any of those things, because you didn't grow up in an orphanage and when you look in the mirror I'm sure that...well, you may not be able to relate to any of that, but Jane loses someone else besides her parents. Her dearest friend, her kindred spirit who provides light to her in the darkness of Lowood school, a girl named Helen -"

"Don't spoil the story for me before I read it!"

"Right. Well, someone she loves dearly gets sick. I suppose you could find comfort in her story, in knowing you're not alone in your sorrows. I know I do." Anne gave him a small smile, which Gilbert returned, touched by her kindness.

"I'll be sure to read it."

"That would be wonderful! I would so love to have someone to discuss it with. The story of Jane Eyre inspires me so. When I feel dejected and outcasted from society, I say to myself, 'If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.' I find it to be very comforting."

Gilbert smiled. She certainly wouldn't be without friends, if he had any say in it. "It's nice to have something to give you hope, isn't it?"

"Oh yes. I like to imagine that I could be like Jane Eyre and become a governess in a house like Thornfield and meet a man like Mr. Rochester...wouldn't that just be splendid! Although I'd make a dreadful wife, I would love to fall in love with someone as romantical…"

"I told you not to spoil it for me! I'll find out when I read it." He tried to ignore the odd twinge of jealousy he felt towards this Mr. Rochester fellow-though he had no idea who he was.

"Well, I won't tell you the ending. Although it does make me cry every time." Anne looked thoughtful. "Sometimes I wish I didn't feel everything so deeply, but when my heart and soul go on journeys on the pages of books, I know that I wouldn't trade my sensitivity for the world. Because without it, I wouldn't get to feel the great joys and sorrows of the characters right with them."

"It certainly is a gift," Gilbert said, and he truly meant it. Her sensitivity was what made Anne such a stange, almost unearthly thing. When she was distressed, she was like a wild, frantic bird, but in her joys she was like a white dove, singing out songs of hope for the world. Hearing her voice and seeing her smile certainly filled his spirit with hope.

They sat in silence for a moment before Anne said, "Anyway."

"Anyway," Gilbert repeated. He lost himself for a moment in her eyes before he looked down. "I should-I should go. Work."

A looked flashed on Anne's face-was it disappointment? But before he could determine what it was, she stood up, as did he.

As he walked out the door, Gilbert wondered if there was a bookseller nearby, where he could find this Jane Eyre book that Anne so adored. He wanted to know more about this romantical man named Mr. Rochester. To see what kind of man Anne would like to fall in love with.

Little did either of them know that the kind of man Anne would like to fall in love with was far different than the man she would actually fall in love with. And although she may have to look in books like Jane Eyre to find the type of man she'd like to fall in love with, the man she'd actually fall in love with was right in front of her eyes.

A/N: "If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends" (Bronte, 82).

Lines directly from Anne With An E: "Truce." "T-R-U-C-E." "Moody would have gotten that wrong." "He would've!" "Anyway." "Anyway. I should-I should go. Work."

Thank you so much for reading!