"You know, for such a smart guy, you can be a real dumbass sometimes."
Yanked from his brooding and anger, Christian forced himself to look away from where he'd been staring out his hospital room window since Ana had walked out on him hours ago in order to glare at his older brother. "Fuck off, Elliot," he growled.
"No." Elliot didn't even bother looking like he was thinking twice about interrupting Christian's thoughts. "I just left our mother and our wives at my house. My wife was holding onto your wife while your wife was in hysterics. You're fucking lucky I managed to convince Mom she needed to stay with them or it'd be her in here, slapping the shit out of you."
"Stay out of it," Christian threatened. "It's none of your fucking business."
Elliot stared at him as though he'd never seen him before. "None of my fucking business?" he repeated incredulously. "Did you not just hear what I said? Your wife can barely string two words together because she hasn't stopped crying since Taylor dropped her off a couple hours ago. All we've been able to get out of her is that you said something to her, but she won't tell us what. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Bristling, Christian braced himself for a fight, but the image of his Ana crying because of him and the things he said to her took that fight out of him. The things he had said had seemed to come from somebody else, not him, but he had felt the emotion behind the words and knew he'd said those things to her. He couldn't stop her rushing out of the room and didn't think she'd even return to him if he tried. At least she wasn't on her own; at least she had Grace and Kate with her.
"Christian, what happened?" Elliot asked tiredly, dropping into a chair beside him.
With a sigh, Christian threw his head back onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling. "She told me about the trial," he said quietly. "And I flipped out on her. She said she wasn't going to let me go with her and started giving me all this shit about almost dying."
"All this shit?" Elliot repeated loudly. "Dude, that wasn't shit! Your heart stopped beating on the way to the hospital. Ana was with you, she saw everything. It happened again while you were in surgery! That girl has been beside herself for a fucking week. I've never seen her like that. She shut all of us out, refused to leave your side, even though your son has been begging her to come home every time they talked, and now she's got more to deal with on top of you being an asshole."
"She shut all of you out, did she?" Christian asked, feeling that unreasonable anger returning. "Didn't look like that when the two of you were snuggled up nicely right next to me."
Elliot just stared for a minute or so before laughing. Actually fucking laughing. It only incensed Christian further. "You have got to be fucking joking!" he barked. It was a moment before Elliot realized his brother wasn't sharing in on the amusement; he went from laughing to angry so quickly Christian wondered if there was some way they could be biologically related after all. "God, you're a dick! Ana's been pretty much alone since you got here and for one moment of comfort, you're seriously going to try and accuse of her of having a fucking affair? With me? No fucking wonder she left your sorry ass! That girl just went through the most horrifying, painful year of her life and all you can do is sit here and yell at her. Because, really, as long as Christian fucking Grey is happy and content, who cares what anyone else is going through! And I get it, you got shot. You're in pain, but that's no fucking excuse, Christian. For a year, I watched you flounder around, not knowing which way was up. I almost watched you die after that overdose of yours. Every time we talked, all you said was how much you wanted your wife back and how nothing else mattered. When you finally got her back, you all but ignored her for weeks when she needed you more than she ever has before."
Christian could only gape at his brother. For as long as they'd known each other, Christian couldn't ever remember Elliot yelling at him like this, with true anger and rage. And the fact that Elliot was using that anger and rage to tell him how horrible a husband he was being to Anastasia only made it worse.
"Christian, you didn't see her when we told her the trial had been moved up," Elliot said, his tone softening just a touch. "I thought she was going to faint. She was terrified. And the first thing out of her mouth was how she didn't want to go through this without you. I don't know whether she thinks she has something to prove to herself, to you, to the rest of us, but she spent hours in a room with Dad going through every fucking detail of what she went through with Hyde and she has every intention of seeing this through, with or without you. And yeah, maybe you are too ill to be there with her, but god knows she's going to need you to lean on every night when we get done there. So maybe instead of sitting here feeling sorry for yourself and alienating your entire family, you ought to start thinking about how to try making this easier for her. That woman fucking adores you, practically fucking worships you, and you treat her like shit from almost the moment you wake up from a fucking coma. Get over yourself, man, or you're just going to lose her again."
Feeling as though he'd been shot all over again, Christian could only stare at Elliot. There were no words to describe what he was currently feeling and he couldn't remember the last time—if ever—someone had spoken to him in that manner. He certainly understood where Elliot was coming from—he was being protective of Ana and clearly had taken up that role with aplomb in the last week. And of course Elliot was right; the moment things stopped going down Christian's chosen path, everyone suffered. Ana just happened to be the unlucky target for that suffering.
Hasn't she suffered enough, though? his mind asked. You know goddamn well she hasn't told you every last detail of what happened last year, probably to keep you from losing your temper and she's still suffering from that.
"Elliot, I'm sorry," said Christian quietly, unable to think of anything else to say as his brother glared at him expectantly.
Elliot sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his hair. "It's not me you need to be apologizing to," he said tersely. "And I can't even guarantee she'll want to come back her anytime soon."
Panic. Cold. Darkness. All the feelings he had when Ana had left him were flying back. Could she be using his beyond appalling behavior to run from him again? "Can you try?" Christian rasped desperately.
Half-shrugging, Elliot's expression softened with a twinge of sympathy. "I'll try," he agreed. "But it's got to be her choice. I'm not forcing that girl to come back here for your sorry ass unless that's what she wants."
It was probably the best Christian could ask for; he nodded resignedly, feeling tired and miserable and in pain. "Thank you."
"I should go," Elliot said quietly after several silent minutes. "I've got to pick up diapers and dinner. Feel better, Christian. We all need you in one piece."
Christian could only nod again as his brother left the room and it wasn't long before he was slipping into unconsciousness again.
...
By Saturday evening, Ana believed if she wasn't prepared for Monday morning after the last couple days, it would never happen. Aside from more meetings with Carrick to run through whatever he thought necessary for her to know, Kate and Mia had dragged her out for most of the day Saturday to get her a whole new wardrobe for the trial. Why she needed a whole trial wardrobe was beyond her, but they were insistent. Along with clothes shopping, the three girls had their hair and nails done as well as indulged in massages. They were doing all this, so they said, to make her feel more confident about facing the trial; Ana thought there might be more behind it, though—that they were treating her to all this pampering because Christian had been such an asshole the other night. She hadn't told anybody exactly what he'd said mostly because she maintained the belief his actions were motivated from a combination of painkillers, pain, and stress. At the same time, though, she hadn't been back to the hospital to visit him. Her excuse was that she was exhausted, but it was just that: an excuse. Whatever his reasons for saying the things he had, she couldn't get the words out of her mind and she wasn't ready to face him yet. She couldn't deny the hurt she'd felt at the expression of anger and disgust on his face as he blamed her for his hospitalization.
It was no secret that Elliot had paid Christian a visit Thursday evening. He hadn't told anybody what they had discussed, nor did he urge Ana to visit him if she wasn't yet ready. Ana knew damn well Elliot had confronted her husband, even if he didn't completely know why he was doing aforementioned confronting. She also knew he'd done it because he'd gotten almost as protective of her as her husband, and since her husband was the one she needed protection from, at least in Elliot's eyes, he'd done that for her. She certainly appreciated it, but part of her wondered whether Elliot's hospital visit might have only made Christian angrier at her. Perhaps he wondered if Ana had put him up to it. This theory only strengthened when Christian hadn't made any attempt to contact her since she left. With Monday morning looming ever closer, Ana knew she couldn't keep avoiding her husband; on top of everything she was about to face, she didn't believe she could handle having Christian angry with her as well.
There was still time to make her decision. And in the meantime, she had plenty of distractions: her parents were flying in Sunday morning to support her at the trial and it would be the first time she'd seen them since the first week of her return. The thought of them being in the courtroom with her was both a comfort and frightening thought. Carla would be positively horrified and disgusted at how her daughter had been treated, and understandably so. But there was a real possibility that easygoing, taciturn Ray might be driven to real violence. Again, very understandably so. She was tempted to pull them aside to brief them so they weren't completely blindsided during the trial.
When she did have a quiet moment, usually when she finally escaped the rest of the family to go to bed, of course her mind was with her husband. It had only been two days since she'd seen him, but it felt like week. Thinking about it, it really had been a week. He'd only been conscious a matter of hours when she stormed out of the hospital room. Before that, she'd spent that time desperately hoping he would wake up and look at her again.
Well, I got what I asked for, she thought gloomily as she turned over in Christian's childhood bed.
Part of her understood his outburst. Since finding out there would be a trial, there had been no question between them that Christian would be at her side the entire time. Past experience told her he was angrier at himself for having poor foresight and getting shot, thus forcing him to rethink his plans than he was at her or anybody else. Now he probably hated himself, especially after alienating her and the rest of his family. She hated thinking of him hurt and alone and felt her resolve cracking. She knew what she had to do.
...
Christian woke suddenly on Monday morning with the feeling of being watched. It wasn't a feeling he ever took lightly and he was on high alert as he opened his eyes. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Ana standing feet away from him against the wall wearing a simple dress he assumed was for the trial today.
Fuck. The trial...
At the moment, the trial didn't matter, though. His wife had come to see him when he had convinced himself he'd gone too far and had driven her away for good by being his bastard self. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, things he'd been forming in his head since his talk to Elliot on Thursday, but he couldn't seem to find a single one right now. She looked tired and worried and afraid and he could even see a trace of anger in her eyes, however small it might have been. He wanted her to yell and rage at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her with his harsh, cruel words. He wanted her to take out her frustrations on him. He wanted her to do anything but stare at him impassively with her arms wrapped protectively around her belly—their baby.
"Hi," he whispered, desperate to break her from the cool stare she was giving him. "You're here."
She sighed. He relaxed. At least there was some sort of response. "Hi," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "Yes, I am."
Wincing, he pushed himself up further on the bed, trying to see her better. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you again," he told her bleakly, letting his fears be known. "I thought I'd hurt you and that you'd hate me and as soon as you could, you'd be packing up and leaving me—"
"Will you just stop already?" she demanded angrily. "God, Christian, why is it every time I'm angry with you it makes you think I'm going to just up and fucking leave? I realize my track record is terrible in terms of staying power, but knowing you have zero confidence in me doesn't exactly help matters." Christian only gaped at her. This was what he'd wanted, for her to let her anger go on him, and he sure as hell wasn't going to stop her now. "Every time I think we've finally gotten to the point that I believe you're starting to forgive me so that I can start forgiving myself, you throw it back in my face. And yes, I am fully aware that something happens that brings it all back to the surface, but you can't keep doing this to me. It hurts too fucking much, Christian, and it's really becoming difficult to come back from it. I know I fucked up, I know I hurt you by not trusting you, and I am beyond sorry for that. I'll never be able to make that up to you." Her shoulders sagged and Christian knew she was only moments away from tears, but he also knew she'd been bottling this up for too long to stop her now. "I need you, Christian. I need you on my side, especially today. The last thing I ever wanted was to face that bastard without you, but I don't have a choice in the matter. You're not well enough to leave and we all know whatever happens in that courtroom is going to piss you off and impede your recovery.
"The last week has been absolute fucking hell for me, Christian. Thursday was both the best and worst day I've had in a very long time. The thought of having to face Jack without you..." She shook her head despondently. "There's nothing we can do about it right now. I'm not going to sit in here and hide from him because you can't be with me the whole time, as much as I may want to. If I were to do that, he'll win. He'll know he's got power over me and even though I know he won't get away with what he's done, he'll still win. I'm not giving him that satisfaction. I'm sorry, but I'm going through with this."
Christian remained silent for several minutes, waiting to see if she was finished. Once he was certain she was, he took a deep breath. "Ana, I am the one who is sorry," he said quietly, forcing himself to hold her gaze despite how much it hurt to see how much pain she was in because of him. "The things I said to you were horrible and cruel, and you didn't deserve that. I love you more than you could ever know and instead of supporting you as I should have, I tore apart every bit of progress you've made since coming home. When I found you in Omaha, you were broken, a shell of what you had been before you left. Over the last few months, you've come back to me, stronger than ever. I'm so proud of you, Ana. I'm beyond happy to have you back in my life. And I cannot wait until this shit is behind us and we can live our lives again. I'm sorry that I continually throw what happened to you back in your face. There is no excuse for that and I want nothing more than to go back in time and take back every hurt I've ever dealt you. I know this isn't easy for you and I'm beyond proud that you're brave enough to face this without me. I'm sorry, Anastasia. Even though I don't deserve it, please forgive me."
She was still watching him impassively. He had no idea what was going on in her head; only that this could go either way—she could accept his pleading and forgive him, or walk away and never look back. Finally, the shutters were lowering in her eyes and he saw the vulnerability returning full force. With what looked like relief and regret, she stumbled across the room and he managed to catch her as she fell into his chest, sobbing. He vaguely noted the pain of his injuries had receded and he was fairly sure it had to do with the girl in his arms.
"It's okay, baby," he whispered into her hair. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Ever."
At some point, Ana had kicked off her shoes and curled herself onto the bed beside Christian. He didn't release his hold on her, wanting to maintain their contact as long as they could before she undoubtedly had to leave for the trial. "I'm sorry I left the way I did," she murmured into his chest. "I just couldn't—"
"Don't apologize," he told her gently. "You reacted just as you should have to my words. Though according to Elliot, your reaction was less than I deserved."
She lifted her head to meet his eyes, a tiny smile on her lips. "What did he say to you?" she asked curiously. "Kate and I tried finding out, but he was surprisingly tightlipped."
He winced again, this time at the memory of his dear brother's words. "He did what he's best at," he told her. "Gave me a verbal bashing that rivals the ones of our parents and forced me to face a few truths about myself."
"I'd apologize," she said, her eyes belying her words, "but you probably deserved it."
Christian narrowed his eyes at her, though he knew she was far from intimidated. "You're probably right," he conceded, brushing his lips against her temple. "I missed you."
Her smile widened against his neck. "I missed you, too," she admitted. "Teddy and I are staying with Grace and Carrick, and they've put me in your old bedroom. I have to admit, it's not the same being in there without you."
"I can imagine," he responded wistfully. "It's been lonely in here. Mom's visited a couple times, but I've gotten the distinct impression she's not exactly pleased with my behavior and as such, her normal sweet, sympathetic disposition has been replaced by undisguised annoyance."
"Good," Ana said. He chuckled and held her more tightly against him. "My parents are in town."
He nodded slightly. "I heard. How's that going?"
"I had to tell them more about what happened with Jack," she whispered. "I didn't want the first time that they hear about it to be when we're in a very public setting." She winced. "They're annoyed that I didn't tell them before."
"I can imagine," Christian said. "That can't have been easy."
She sighed. "No, not in the slightest. But I think I evened it out by telling them I'm pregnant."
Christian's eyebrows shot up. He'd been under the impression they had been waiting to tell their family about the pregnancy, but he certainly couldn't blame her, all things considered, for doing so. "How'd they take that?"
"Very well," she said. "Mom was over the moon, crying, hugging me... the whole bit. Ray was happy as well. I think he was more pleased that you and I are recovering relationship-wise. He didn't say as much, but he was asking me how things are going between us."
Christian swallowed hard. "And how are things going between us?" he asked reluctantly.
Ana pushed herself off his chest, resting on her elbow as she looked at him thoughtfully. "Up and down," she admitted quietly. "More up than down. And getting better every day that we're communicating and being open with each other." She sighed. "I hate being separated from you, Christian. Especially after the last year, and I have no intention of letting either of our stubborn personalities get between us. But I need you to do the same. No matter how difficult it might be, we can't truly move forward until you can start letting things go. I want to help, but I can't if you won't tell me what you need me to do."
Christian silenced her by pressing his lips against hers. Their kiss was soft, slow, and hesitant. The longer it went on, though, the more Christian wanted and before he could stop himself, he'd moved so she was on her back and he was raised over her, kissing her with everything he had. When they finally separated, they were both panting and desperate for more. "Much as I want to continue this," he told her, breathing his words against her neck, "I'm not sure we have time." He reluctantly glanced over at the wall clock. "I'm sure you'll need to leave soon and my pain medication is wearing off."
Her eyes widened in concern, so he smiled at her, trying to communicate their actions hadn't hurt him. It wasn't complete truth, but he refused to let her leave thinking she'd caused him further pain. Eventually, she nodded, biting her lip. Reflexively, he reached up to free it. She smiled in return. "I'll be back this evening," she promised, slowly sliding out of the bed. "Try not to worry too much?"
"Not possible," he told her. "Especially today. But don't worry about me, baby. Make sure that fucker goes down for good then come back to me."
"Always," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him far too briefly. "I love you."
He smiled again, trying to hide his trepidation about her leaving. "I love you, too."
And with that, Christian once again watched his wife walk out of his hospital room, though unlike the last time, she looked back at him and he saw her love for him in her eyes. If anybody could face what was to come, it was Ana. And there was no doubt in his mind that she would handle this just like she handled everything else: with utter perfection.