A/N: Thanks for all the urges to keep writing (you know who you are!) as I still would be several chapters behind if it were not for your texts and emails!

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CH20

Ana POV

I wake to the sound of a soft rap on my bedroom door. I lean and peer over to my side table and see that the clock reads almost 8pm. Confused, I see that I still have my shoes and coat on. I shuck my jacket and toe my shoes off and they fall haphazardly to the floor.

More rapping on the door continues. "Ana, are you awake?"

I jump out of bed and turn the light on. I look in the mirror and take stock of my appearance. Ugh… My ponytail is askew and my eyes and face are puffy. I jump back over to the bed and lean against the wall. "Come in, Ray."

Ray nudges to door softly and appears with a tray of food. Ray was cooking? He sets the tray down on the edge of my bed and pulls a chair from the corner and takes a seat. He looks worried, but that is hidden by his quick frown. He eyes the tray and knows it was his best attempt at cooking. "Are you okay, Ana?"

"Fine Ray, I'm just a little tired, I guess." I can't talk to Ray about this. He won't understand. I try for proactive distraction. "What is that Ray?" I ask, nodding to the covered tray.

"I know I'm no great chef, but it's supposed to be your supper," he smiles and lifts the cover. "Voila! Spaghetti with tinned tomato sauce, and of course your favourite tea." He tosses a napkin and a fork over to me. "I was worried that you didn't show for supper and that you were out. You never miss mealtime. But your book bag is downstairs at the doorway so I figured you were here."

"Yeah, rough day today," I say and I know he is concerned but he never has the words to offer for comfort. Loquacious, he is not. I poke the pasty mass around with my fork and try mixing in the sauce but it was a lost cause. I catch Ray's eyes and smile. "Guess I'll try the tea."

Ray mumbles his apologies and takes the plate and sets it back on the tray. I hold the steaming hot tea with both hands and raise it to my lips. I inhale the minty wafts swirling above the rim. I begin to relax and sink closer to the wall. "I can bring you toast instead."

"No, that's ok, I'm fine." I stare into his eyes and I know he wants to talk about so much more and that is why I love him so much; he won't force conversations that I am not ready to have.

Ray stands and quietly makes his way to the door. He turns and pauses, his plat palm lightly gripping the door jamb. He gives me a lingering glance and it is obvious that he wants to stay longer and talk. He gives me his million dollar smile which is not quite reaching his eyes. I sink my head downward to face my tea. This conversation is closed for now; but he knows that one day I will share more with him.

Ray's footsteps fade as he makes his way downstairs. I set the now empty teacup on the bedside table and curl back into my pillow. Fat tears roll out and my lungs thrust all oxygen it once contained. I feel sucker-punched. Christian didn't show…

Christian POV

There is buzzing and the sound of beeps and shuffling around me. I am hearing more and more as I wake. The buzzing turn s into whispers as I waken to the sounds around me. I feel pain and the heaviness of the blankets and the pulling of tape. I feel something soft and warm in my hand. I give a gentle squeeze.

"Christian!" The voice could only be Mia's. "I'm so glad you're awake!"

"Hi Brat," I mumble. She holds my hand tighter and adds her other one as she leans her head over it. She kisses my hand and pulls away as mom comes over to take her place.

I slowly open my eyes expecting it to be bright, but the early evening's last light is soft among the clouds. I'm glad too because the throbbing headache I have would not tolerate light right now. I fight to focus sight through this headache. In my room I see Mia, mom, dad, and Elliot. "How long have I been here?"

"Since mid-day Sunday. You were awake briefly for a short while Sunday night but we had to put you out for another day for the cranial swelling to go down." Grace spoke softly but I could hear relief in her voice. "It is now Monday night, just going past 7pm." She is holding the clipboard and is making more notes.

Past the bed and leaning against the wall is Elliot. He steps forward and comes toward us. "Dude, you look like shit!" He wears a lopsided smile. This is so Elliot; he makes jokes when he doesn't know what else to say. I can't stifle a laugh and I immediately regret it. Pain sears through my abdomen and I bite back the moan.

"Elliot, that'll be enough." Carrick pulls Elliot to the side and then takes the chair at my bedside. My father's rugged looks are now haggard. Lord knows how long he's been here. "I've got to head home, son. I just wanted to make sure that you awoke." He leaned in and gripped my shoulder. "See you tomorrow. Get some rest and be sure to listen to your mother. She's in charge." He smiles, but I see that it took up the last bit of his strength. He folds his suit jacket over his arm and picks up his briefcase. He walks over to Grace and kisses her forehead as he tightens his embrace. "All of you try and get some rest too," he says as he steps away.

Grace sets the chart down and grabs a cup and pours ice water. She gently sits on my side and feeds me the straw. "Sweetheart, try to take some water."

X x X

"Hey Brat, it's not like you to be this quiet for so long. Come here." I try to hold out my hand to her but I am as weak as a kitten. Mia soft shoes over and hops on the foot of the bed. Knowing that my left side is a train wreck she lies back and curls into my right side. Mom is about to interject so I stop here there. "Please mom, it's okay. Let Mia stay. She is being careful." Grace looks skeptical, but then relents and takes Elliot's hand.

Grace looks at her watch. "Sweetheart, I have rounds to make. I'll send the nurse in soon. Your brother and sister can stay a bit longer and if need be I can send a cot up." Grace looks as tired as dad, but she works well under pressure and adrenaline. This is mom 'busy work'…

"How are you really? And don't say fine." Elliot is flustered and scared. He doesn't know how to interact in these situations. He is standing stiffly and I see his frustration mounting. "Jesus man, it's my fault. I am so, so sorry."

What? "What are you talking about? This was not your fault. You weren't even near me when it happened. It was just an accident, Elliot." I don't quite remember the details of the accident but I am going on what mom said earlier with the cop who came in. "You are determined to argue with me and another time it would be fun, but right now I feel like crap. I don't blame you so don't go blaming yourself."

We're interrupted by a nurse. "Mr. Gray, so nice to see you awake, just in time for me to put you to sleep again," she chuckles. She comes to my side and checks the fluid bags hanging above me. She then follows the lines and checks the drip. She takes her needle and injects more meds into the injection port. "These meds should kick in soon Mr. Gray, and you'll feel a bit better." She looks beside me at my now sleeping sister. "Should we send up a cot? She doesn't look very comfortable."

Elliot answered. "Bro, I'll take Mia home so you can get some rest. As the nurse said, you're gonna be out of it for a bit." He walks to the side and shakes Mia gently. "C'mon Brat, let's give Christian some rest. We'll come back tomorrow." Mia's protestations are not effective. In her dreams she may be a brave lioness, but it comes out as a scrappy kitten. "C'mon, Mia, time to go. Christian needs his beauty rest."

Elliot manages to get a sleepy Mia, her purse and kitbag, as well as his own things ready. He holds my hand, careful not to pull the IV. "Tomorrow, Bro."

The meds are kicking in and the white noise and the beeps are just ribbons of sound drifting in the breeze. It is almost blissful, even with this now dull headache that I know something or someone is missing. I hear the cadence of shoes clacking in the hallway and it is getting louder each step. My door, once slightly ajar, is pushed open to reveal a woman's silhouette.

I meagrely attempt to call for Ana before I am pulled into a pharmaceutically induced sleep.

X x X

"Christian…"

"… sweetheart … my, my… alone at last … foolish girl now… you're mine …

"…I came as fast as I could … brought in yesterday supper… "

"got to get better Grace…"

I hear bits of words floating about but I cannot grasp them. They are elusive… or illusive? I can't tell what is real anymore…

Ana POV

Tuesday.

The only godsend is that there is no class with him today.

I drudgingly spent my morning moving from one task to the next; an automaton coded with basic instructions and not expected to exceed past its programming. I scarcely avoided questions from Ray and had hoped that my lack of eye contact would hinder any further broaching of any topic of conversation. I appeased a worried Ray with the promise of having tea and toast.

I shouldn't have bothered coming to school at all. I was basically catatonic in class and marched zombie-like from class to class. By lunchtime Kate had just about enough of my behaviour.

"Ana, snap out of it! What is wrong with you today?" Kate grumbled. "You're walking around like a fart in a spacesuit." This is the hard ass no–nonsense Kate I've come to love and admire. I just don't like being on this side of her temper. "Is this about José?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. It's just a bad mood I guess," I lie. I can hardly tell her that I made a monumental fool of myself with Mr. Gray and that his absence confirms what I know all along about opening your heart to someone: they will ultimately break it.

José is walking toward us. He eyes the seat next to me but then flops down in the one beside Kate. Wise… He opens his paper bag and pulls out sandwiches. He offers us one and I tacitly decline. "Ana, are you all right? You don't seem yourself today. If it's about Friday, I am truly sorry."

"I'm sorry… I just… I just can't— "I stand and push the chair back. I grab my bag and zip it closed. I run past students and those who are too slow to clear my path become victims of my shoving. I spy an alcove with a trash can and head in. I crouch and lean my back against the brick wall. The smell wafting from the trash is almost overwhelming, but this spot does allot my privacy.

X x X

My solitude is broken by the soft tones of an Englishman. Mr Flynn… "Ana, are you ok?" He is crouching but keeps a few feet from me. I thought that I was well hidden but I guess anyone who is that determined can find me. "Would you like to have a chat in my office?" He extends his hand and leans forward to help me stand.

I trust him. He is the most disarming man aside from Ray that I have ever met. I don't know why I agree to go with him, but in truth a chair and a nice cup of tea is better than the cold brick wall of a smelly alcove. I sit in his big comfy chair. It is black leather and has well-worn telltale cracks. It is thickly padded and I sink immediately into it like a hug. I curl my feet in and I feel like I am sitting in a large catcher's mitt. I know its purpose is to relax anyone who may sit in it, but I know that it looks expensive and does not match his other furnishings. He must have purchased this on his own.

He passes me a dainty teacup and saucer filled with steaming tea. I bring it close and inhale its unique fragrance. "Twinings?" I ask as I lean forward and add a bit of milk from the small pitcher.

"No, Red Rose, actually. A gift from a Canadian colleague. Orange Pekoe. It's my new favourite – sacrilege for any blue-blooded citizen of the British Empire." He smirks and seems impressed with little self-deprecating joke. "It's a good thing I'm not a Blue Blood," he chuckles.

I smile and take a sip. He is not wrong; this tea is very smooth and lovely. Its aroma curls up and cuddles the senses. I close my eyes and curl back into the chair.

"Ana, may I ask you why I found you hiding among the bins?" The question was both direct and polite. It pulled me from the comfort, but did not make me ill at ease. I open my eyes and look into his concerned ones.

"Mr. Flynn, I don't need to bother you with my troubles. I know you must see a lot of students and I don't need to take up any more of your valuable time." My tea is almost finished and I start to sit up. He sees my intent to leave and he puts his hand out to stop me.

"Please stay, Ana. I feel we have things to discuss and it will take some time. Don't worry about your next class. I will email your teacher that you will be absent with permission. Just think of this as an impromptu session."

I give in and sit back. There is something about his soothing voice and the comfort of his chair which keep me there. I am truly resting and I guess I need it despite the awkward conversation that I am sure is to follow.

"Ana, first of all your troubles are my troubles and please don't ever feel like yours are any less important than any other's. And secondly, my time is your time." He sits back and smiles, "Call it perks of being a counsellor." He stands and takes my teacup. "More?" He pours our tea and adds milk to both and passes it back to me.

"Please know that you can see me at any time, Ana. I know you are starting to settle in here and are making friends. Kate, isn't she? And José and Jack as well, if I am not mistaken." He notes my confusion and continues. "I've seen you and Kate behaving like two peas in a pod."

"Yes, Kate is like a sister I wish I had."

"I'm glad. Look, I'll be frank with you; I have a brief understanding of your life before coming here. I know my role here is to be your guidance counsellor in relation to your studies, but I have the ability to go a bit beyond that scope if you permit me. Or if my ugly British mug offends you I can recommend a therapist external to the school – with your father's permission of course." His smile is deep and his eyes crinkle.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it." My voice is a whisper and I wonder if this is platitude or if I am really serious about taking him up on his offer. My stubborn and defensive self wants to decline his offer but my helpless and despairing self wants to embrace it.

"I want to discuss something from Friday night that may make you uncomfortable." He picks his teacup and takes a few sips before he begins again. "I don't know how to start but I guess I will just start at the beginning. Ana, I saw you with Mr. Gray on Friday night."

Oh my God… I am speechless. I can't form excuses and lies and frankly, I don't want to insult him. I can trust him; that I know as truth. I bite back any denial that was forming and swallow it. I let him continue without protest.

"I spoke with Christian that evening and told him of my concerns and discussed issues which must be handled with regards to what happened. He cannot continue to see you while he is a teacher here. He knows the seriousness of that offense should it come out to the board and the public."

"But… I don't know what to say. He is my teacher and I can't deny I am growing fond of him." I love him…

"I can't go into all the details from that night, as I am sure I don't want to add humiliation to your plate, but I should tell you that there has been an accident. There are rumours circulating around the school in regards to Mr. Gray's absence. At first I thought that it was his efforts to him staying away from you until he got his plans settled, but later the faculty were notified that he was in a terrible car accident on Sunday and that he is in stable condition at Virginia Mason Hospital. Under these special circumstances I think you deserve to know the correct information instead of hearing speculation and half-truths."

Christian… oh, my Lord…

All the questions I wanted to ask about what he saw between Christian and I and whatever plans he was referring to died on my tongue. All I was concerned about was getting out of here and getting to the hospital as soon as humanly possible. I set the cup and saucer down as softly as I could and sat up. I stood and grabbed my bag. "I'm sorry… I... I have to go."

Mr. Flynn made no move to hinder me. He pointed to his doorway and stated, "Fifth floor."

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