Apologies everyone! I accidentally missed a chapter in my publishing schedule. *groan*

If you are reading this in Oct/Nov 2018, please re-read from Chapter 7 onwards. By the time you hit this chapter, it should be making sense again.

I have now learned my lesson.

'I want to know.'

The sentence burned her mind. Ever since she had heard the Blacksmith whispering to the sword, Anne wanted to know what he had said. She *needed* to know. Three days it had been since she saw the Blacksmith and The Woman, leading to three days of insane curiousity.

Well, thought Anne. I suppose it's time I do it myself.

Anne's goal for the day was to find a pen and paper. Her fingers were twitching to write-She was not sure exactly *what* she was going to write but Anne felt an overwhelming urge to at least try to write her own words for the 'elements'. Maybe she could guess what the Blacksmith had said? Surely it couldn't be that hard?

But where to find a pen and paper… Anne immediately thought of The Library.

Standing outside The Library was a beautiful woman in the most stunning ball gown of ruby red satin and golden lace detail. Her raven hair was held up with crimson roses, matching her full painted lips. And yet, despite her sophisticated attire, the woman was reading a book about housekeeping.

Anne was quite confused by the mixed message presented by this new woman. She seemed too gorgeous for domestic duties. "Excuse me, but is there a party?"

The woman looked up with a smile. "No, beloved."

"Then why are you dressed as such?"

The woman looked down at her dress with surprise. "Do you not like it? It's perfect for exquisite dancing in the grandest of ballrooms, is it not? I once dreamed of dancing all night with a cheeky rogue who would discard his wicked ways to spend forever with me! But then I started to wonder: What happens next? I want to know about what happens next. What kind of home do we go back to? What do we do the next day? How exactly do I convert his wicked ways?"

Anne came to look at the book. She could see the book was filled with great details for music lessons, pantry supplies, books, and shirt patterns. All the everyday items that make a home.

"But why this book? Those things happen every day! Well, at least I think they do… I haven't done much of that lately. I mean, it seems so ordinary. Wouldn't you be bored with 'ordinary'?"

The woman laughed, a rich full sound that brought Anne great solace. "Oh, my beloved. I mean, it's lovely to dream of fancy things but there is nothing quite like filling your home with comforts. Don't you ever just want to come home?"

Anne smile wavered, ever so slightly. "It is all I ever wanted. And I think I had it once." Anne paused to remember but it was all a bit vague. "I think… I think when you have a home, it is so very important and part of your every day. If you were to lose that 'home', then you would miss oh so much more."

The woman smiled. "Yes, it is far harder to lose the everyday 'somethings' that are part of who you are."

"It feels easier to flit around and chase dreams. To play in big castles and go to concerts and parties. If one party disappears, there is always another. But when it's time to go home… Well, if you do something silly and you lose your home, it is such a feeling of rejection. I know that feeling. I know what it is to lose your home. To lose that solid ground upon which to stand tall. I have lost it as a home … and I lost it with a person. Oh, it is so much easier to keep one thing solid and then fly around with your dreams! Show them all! Oh, now I'm rattling on and not making any sense! Gah! Is it worth the effort?!"

The woman reached out and rested her hand on Anne's arm. It was warm and reassuring. "The risk is worth it. I didn't sacrifice a dream. No, I accepted the true value of what I really wanted. I want something to fill my every day, and then keep treats for special occasions. I'm sure you understand. Why, look at your attire. You, too, could wear fancy ball gowns every day but instead, you choose the common house dress. Why is that?"

Anne looked down at her green skirt and thought about the question. "The ball gowns stop me from exploring and … finding treasures. Stories. The ball gowns only want me to look pretty. But this house dress…"

"Allows you to be you? That's all that anyone ever wants, isn't it?" The woman smiled gently. "And it wouldn't be right for me to force you to wear a ball gown, would it?"

"Of course not! I would consider it rather restrictive!"

"So, would you mind if I changed my dress then? I think I would like something I bit more … child-friendly." It couldn't be seen how it happened but the ball gown was now a simple red skirt with a white blouse and a gold and rose-patterned apron tied around the waist. The roses that had adorned her black hair were now held in a child-like bouquet with a few haphazard leaves. "What do you think? Do I still look beautiful?"

Through tears of joy, Anne laughed at this dear woman and embraced her. "You certainly do! Is it … is it time to put my dreams aside too?"

The woman took grasp of Anne's hands. "Good gracious, no! Your dreams have always been about your achievements. All of this," she said, gesturing around them. "Well, all of this is just the vision of what you really want. You want to ACHIEVE your goals and thus earn your castle, not just sit back and wait for someone to give it to you. Because then you know it's yours and no-one will take it away from you. All of this here, well it comes from you and those who support you. Your castle is filled with those who give you what you need, not hold you back."

Anne sniffed and thought how wonderful this woman was. A true kindred spirit to soothe her questioning head. "You have set many of my thoughts at ease. Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for. Although, all of this thinking and talking has stirred my appetite. Don't suppose you have anything to eat, do you? I could murder a plum puff right now. And wash it down with some raspberry cordial."

"If you help me find a pen and paper, I can definitely take us to the kitchen."

"Swear?"

"Gilbert? Oh my goodness, Gilbert! It IS you! Where have you been? Why didn't you write to me? You're not dead? Oh, thank goodness, you're not dead! Wait, you're not DEAD! I'm going to kill you! You could have told me!"

Gilbert looked sheepishly across the doorway to Phil. He had spent most of the morning agonising over whether he should visit Anne immediately, or visit Phil first. Considering her response right now, Gilbert thought he might have been better off facing his greatest fears with Anne.

Suddenly Phil pulled Gilbert inside and closed the door. Within the blink of an eye, Phil was hugging him and crying into his shirt. Gilbert was both stunned and winded, unable to say anything as a coughing fit started.

"Phil, darling. I think you need to let go before you DO kill the poor man." Ever the calming the presence, Reverend Jo Blake was standing off to the side, watching his wife react in the only way she knew how-with everything she had.

"Oh, propriety be damned, Jo! No-one can see him here! His reputation is safe!"

"Can't…*cough cough*... breathe… hah…" Gilbert was struggling to escape Phil's tight embrace. Clearly, Phil had some unresolved issues to work through but now was not the best time to take them out on Gilbert and his weakened lungs.

Phil looked up at Gilbert with shocked eyes. For a few seconds, she did not register the strained smile on Gilbert's face as he tried to breathe through the coughs.

"Oh, Gilbert? Are you okay? You still haven't recovered, have you? Quick Jo! Get the man some water! Gilbert, come and take a seat in the sitting room. Did I hurt you? Is there something I can get for you? Oh, I know I am bombarding you right now but you have no idea how happy I am to see you! Oh, Miss Cuthbert mentioned you might be in Kingsport soon!"

The mention of Marilla Cuthbert placed a somber veil over the reunion. At the same time, they both thought of Anne.

Gilbert broke the silence first. "Is it … is it as bad as it sounds?"

"She is much better now than when we first saw her." Jo returned with a tray of drinks. "Have you not seen her yet?" Jo took his seat next to Phil on the sofa. While he knew Phil was happy to see their old friend, the circumstances filled the room with a heavy smoke of dread and uncertainty.

Gilbert moved slowly to a large winged chair in the sitting room. He more collapsed than sat down it, dropping his hands on either side. "I only found out yesterday. I have been invited to join a special research group at Med School…"

"Aha! Now at least we know Anne will have the best care," Phil interrupted with a smile. However, the smile dropped fast. "Best care… oh, Gilbert! There's something I haven't told you yet! Roy is there too."

"What?! I thought you said she refused him!"

Phil looked sheepishly at him. "Well, she did. But then he came to the hospital and announced their engagement and then he started paying the bills and was visiting every day and telling everyone to update him and we don't know WHAT is going on until Anne wakes up!"

Jo rested a comforting hand on Phil. "Gilbert, I'm sure you understand what is happening here. Miss Cuthbert is still Anne's next of kin but people will always look to a man to take care of a woman. Especially a well-to-do gentleman."

"And of course, everyone was expecting their engagement so no-one is here to question him. But why? Why would he want her after she said no?" Gilbert was all too familiar with that feeling. Even after the last two years of pain and abandonment, Gilbert still loved Anne. However, he would never force himself into her life. Not even in these circumstances. Gilbert wanted to be there to help but if Anne was to wake and send him away, he would sadly respect that. Why would he want to be with someone who didn't want him in return?

Phil bristled at his questioning. "How would I know? I'm struggling to know my own mind, let alone bounce around in someone else's."

The room fell silent for a few minutes, as they contemplated all that fell before them. Jo was the first to speak. "Gilbert. Do you want to see her?"

The look he gave Jo was filled with torture and angst. There was no hiding the raw pain from his hazel eyes. Gilbert did not even try. He knew this was to be his last opportunity to be himself, to feel all the anguish. Once he stepped out their door, Gilbert would need to keep his feelings bottled up. Otherwise, he would be removed from the project. And there is no way Roy would allow him near Anne again.

"Jo, I hear her calling to me with every fiber in my body. I have been fighting with myself ever since I found out. But I can't simply go to her. Even under normal circumstances, I would not be allowed that privilege. Fortunately, these are not normal circumstances but I still can't afford any mistake that might take it away. I want… no, I need to see her today. I just … I need your help."

Gilbert turned to Phil. "May I attend with you today? You can introduce me to the staff, maybe distract them? If I, well. If I react badly. I don't want anyone thinking I am emotionally compromised or I won't remain on the project. And I need this project. I need to stay close to her. Please?"

Phil blinked back tears. "Gilbert, you silly goose. Like I would ever dare to stand between you two. I would have a better chance against a hurricane. And as luck would have it, Miss Cuthbert sent a care package to help us with the nurses. Shall we go?"

-—

In a quiet room at the Redmond Medical School, Nurse Foster sat at her desk. She rubbed the back of her neck, ashamed that she was already tired so early into her shift. At least she liked her new charge. Dr. Chamberson was impressed enough with her work to keep her as a regular nurse for the young Miss Shirley. And the case was interesting enough. Comatose patients don't require too much attention, leaving Nurse Foster with plenty of time for reading research papers that may help their special patient.

She had just completed her routine observations when Miss Shirley's first guest of the day arrived. Nurse Foster always looked forward to Mrs. Blake's visits. No one would deny the emotional toll it took but Mrs. Blake at least made the effort to look like she was visiting her friend rather than a chore.

Today, Mrs. Blake brought along her husband and another friend carrying a basket. "Hello, Nurse Foster! And how are you this fine sunny day?" Phil was such a regular now, she greeted Nurse Foster like an old companion.

"Very well, Mrs. Blake. I see you brought a friend today?"

Phil turned to her accompanying gentleman. "You remember my husband, Reverend Jo? And this here is our dear friend Gilbert Blythe. He also knew Miss Shirley before the accident but you may recognise his name as…"

"The Cooper Prize. Oh yes, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blythe. And congratulations. It is quite an achievement, one they have been holding back for just the right kind of recipient. No wonder they were so excited to have you on the team. My name is Nurse Kate Foster. We'll be working together with Miss Shirley's care."

Gilbert reached out to shake Nurse Foster's hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for all that you have done for Miss Shirley. I hold the utmost admiration for nurses. Many doctors should be grateful for the hands-on experience and wisdom gained from nurses."

Phil rolled her eyes at the Blythe charm in action again. Jo watched on, impressed at how natural Gilbert could apply the charm. Mainly because he was simply genuine in his care for others.

Nurse Foster laughed at all of this. "Oh, you're going to fit in here just fine. Would you like to meet the patient?"

"Yes thank you. Dr. Chamberson has already provided me with her file. Would you mind if I took a moment to review?"

This was Phil's cue. "Oh, while Mr. Blythe does the whole Medical Student thing, did I tell you Miss Cuthbert's care package arrived? And Nurse Foster, she has a jar of cherry conserve with your name on it! Look! Dora even decorated the label!"

As the two women looked through the basket of goodies, Jo and Gilbert approached Anne's bed. Jo stopped a few metres away, allowing Gilbert some privacy with his shock.

Gilbert did not notice; a few metres or a few miles, neither would be enough to buffer the intimate bubble of grief surrounding the pair. Friends had often commented on how the space between Gilbert and Anne had felt private and sacred.

Grief did not change this. For Gilbert, time stood still as he looked upon Anne, comfortably asleep and unaware.

Her hair was still blazing with red gold but now it was cut short to her scalp, with an inch or two to spare. There was a small scar curling over the top of her left ear, still crimson red against her white skin—a sign of where she was in the healing timeline.

Her eyes were closed but they still looked bruised, anemic, and tender. Anne had lost a lot of blood from internal injuries. Her pallor highlighted the depth of her shadows and washed out her skin even more. Gilbert whimpered a little as he noted how faded her freckles were. He wasn't sure if Anne would be impressed with the results, considering what had been required.

Acknowledging her freckles was a mistake. These were Anne's freckles. He knew her freckles. Her freckles. They were as "Anne" as her red hair. Her short but still vibrant red hair. Gilbert could feel the room begin to spin and his vision blur. Don't lose it now, Blythe. Find an anchor.

Suddenly, Jo was at his side. "Gilbert, do you hear me? Remember to breathe." Jo's soothing timbre calmed Gilbert's nerves. Jo had been here before. He could see Gilbert's struggle. If their places were reversed, Jo was not certain he could stand here as Gilbert did now. However, Gilbert had made his precarious position abundantly clear. Jo was here to give him whatever support he required.

Gilbert did, in fact, breathe in. "Thanks, Jo. I'm … I'm okay." Well, not really. But comparatively speaking…

Jo took a step back to allow Gilbert more time. Gilbert nodded to Jo and returned his gaze to Anne. Anne, who lay there like a fragile doll wrapped in a blanket. With her waif like arms connected to intravenous drips, alternating between saline and glucose as per recent research in The Lancet. That's it, Blythe. Hold on to the research. Her limbs looked weak from their immobility. Casts had been removed and very little atrophy had occurred. Perhaps physical therapy might help? We can't let her waste here. If she wakes, she'll be wanting to seek out a wood nymph's grove and climb a tree. No, bad move. Don't think *if* … breathe, Blythe!

Gilbert looked down and noticed the blanket. It was distinctly Mrs. Rachel Lynde. Gilbert made a little sound as the laugh escaped him. It was nice to see a little of the Island giving Anne comfort. Gilbert reached down to touch the soft wool, brushing Anne's hand in the process. Her fingers twitched in response.

Gilbert jumped back in surprise. He looked again at her fingers. Yes! A definite twitch. On her left hand! The index finger. "Nurse? NURSE!"

Nurse Foster and Phil came quickly to Anne's bedside. "What is it, Mister Blythe?"

Gilbert pointed at Anne's finger. "She twitched. I went to touch the blanket and brushed her finger. Then she twitched. She responded. Is that normal?"

Nurse Foster smiled gently at Gilbert. "Yes, I can see there is still some residual movement. It is normal for patients to twitch, even sometimes respond to external physical stimulation like touch. I'm recording every movement for Doctor Chamberson and while they aren't regular, they are becoming a little more consistent."

Gilbert breathed. Okay. Normal. Need to be Medical Student Blythe. "That's good to know, thank you. Perhaps this is a sign of natural healing of the nervous system? Could we perhaps consider physical therapy to help stimulate the muscles and nerves, preventing any further atrophy or loss of sensation in the patient?"

Nurse Foster smiled. It was nice to be asked the questions rather than just instructed. "Why yes. I was just reading a paper about that exact same treatment. Dr. Chamberson will be here within the hour. Perhaps you would like to stay and talk with him?"

Gilbert looked to Phil and Jo. "Would you mind?"

Phil responded with a sad smile. "Of course not, Gilbert. Miss Cuthbert sent a whole novel of letters for Anne. I usually read one or two when I visit. Could you do that for me today? And then afterward, please come back to our place for dinner. We'll catch up more then."

It was soft and hardly heard but the simple sound of "thank you" near broke Phil's heart. Hiding from all the emotion, Phil quickly bent down to kiss Anne's forehead and whispered, "He is here." Then she gave Gilbert a swift embrace before dashing out of the room, Jo striding to keep up with her.

Nurse Foster watched as they left and then said to Gilbert, "Miss Shirley must be a remarkable young woman. Every person I have seen here with her as always been so emotionally moved by her simple presence. I can only imagine what she would be like awake."

With a soft smile, Gilbert mumbled to himself "No one can imagine that."