A/N: You. Guys. Oh. My. Goodness. I can't even - the reviews! Yikes! I think I got to most of them, and I apologize if I did not reply to a few of the most recent ones. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Your kind words and amazing support were a godsend as I returned home from the Sea Island Downton weekend and stumbled into the reality of illness and a blizzard. So, thank you, THANK YOU for all of that. Over 700 reviews, I'm just stunned.

Special shout-out for this one to dibdab4, my homegirl and kindrid spirit, who glanced at the first bit of this chapter and convinced me I'd not totally lost my mind with how it came out. And sending love to brenna-louise, shopgirl1217, evitamockingbird, peetlepee, misslinzay, chelsieteancrumpets, and readingteacher - for fangirl amazingness. MWAH! Huge kisses!

Guest reviewers - please open an account! I'd love to be able to chat with you all.

Here we go! Not really beta'd at all, and written half on a plane and half in a medicine-induced haze (much like Elsie, har de har) so please pardon any errors.

This one's got a song accompaniment: another by Brother Sun (I've used them in the Music fics) - "Love Is the Reason." The entire song doesn't quite fit, but these verses totally do. Enjoy, and check them out if you like folk music and acoustic sounds. They're awesome. The song is on my Spotify, where it's free to join and then you can subscribe to my playlists for the fics I have on here.

Love you guys! xxx

CSotA


What if everything you're looking for

Is right there within your reach?

I think it's time we finally take our chances

Let our hearts speak louder than our fears.

Because love is all I ever wanted

Love is the reason I'm still here …

Friday, February 27, 2015

"Elsie, you have to let me help you."

Shooting Charles an angry look, Elsie blew her bangs off of her forehead, hating that she'd not been able to shampoo her hair for two days.

"You need to get out there," she said, pointing a finger at the doorway that led to the corridor. "I need to pee, and you're not helping with that. And then let me change my clothes. Afterwards, when I'm in the wheelchair, you may come back in."

Charles was crushed, but he tried not to let it show. "Alright," he agreed, and headed out as bidden.

Holy hell, she thought, I'm not even home yet and he's driving me crazy!

She appreciated his care, truly, and tried to keep reminding herself of that. The man had tried to coax her to eat, had fired a barrage of questions at Nurse Sybil about everything: painkiller side effects, possible chafing from the back brace Elsie would be wearing and how to deal with it, antioxidants, acupuncture, and everything in between. And, bless her, Sybil had answered them all calmly and kindly.

Elsie freely admitted that it had been such a relief to see him come into her room the moment he'd gotten in from London, and with Isobel in tow no less. She had been a godsend, and Elsie was enjoying getting to know her despite the fact that it might have been nicer to do so without the need for Isobel to assist Elsie with things like using the loo.

"Elsie?" As if summoned telepathically, Isobel came in the room. "Charles said you banished him?" she added with an inquisitive smirk.

"I did. So help me, Isobel – I love him, but we're going to bloody kill each other within three days of being home if he doesn't give me just a bit of space." Elsie looked at Isobel's shocked face. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'm just really tired, and it makes me grouchy."

"I'll say," Beryl cackled from the doorway. "But it's why we love you, dear - it's your endless charm. Now, we've calmed dear Charlie boy down. Which of us is helping you to the loo?"

"Oh, I think it's your turn, Beryl," Isobel answered. "Let's hope Elsie doesn't use her ninja skills to escape, however."

They all laughed a bit as Beryl helped Elsie up. "Ow," she murmured.

"Easy, Elsie," Isobel said. "Remember, you don't have the brace yet, and it's been a while since you had some pain meds."

"Just wait until you get that back brace, though – Daisy's right, you know," Beryl chuckled.

"About what?" Elsie asked, feeling like she missed something.

"You're going to look like a Ninja Turtle. She's calling you Raphael, on account of you having red hair - he's the red one, you know, you've seen it with the kids, right? And she wants to know if you like pizza."

"I do know. And only Daisy can get away with that, you do realize?" Elsie groaned. "If the two of you get on board with that turtle nonsense, you're out."

"Ha! You need us, love," Beryl replied.

Ten minutes later, Elsie made it out of the restroom. Beryl brushed her hair for her and put it up in a ponytail so that she'd be presentable when the nurse came in to discharge her. Elsie climbed into the wheelchair, stating she wouldn't be spending another minute in that bed, and Isobel and Beryl pulled over the extra chairs in the room to join her.

"Thank God the tests were all fine," Beryl muttered, and the others nodded.

Elsie's blood tests - which had been a routine work-up but which had also been used to rule out things like epilepsy - were all clear. While Daisy attested to the fact that Star threw Elsie, the medics wondered if perhaps Elsie had done something to spook the animal, like having had a seizure or maybe even having passed out, but the tests showed nothing out of the ordinary. The x-rays, however, were a different story: they showed an L3 vertebrae fracture; it wouldn't require surgery, but the recovery would be slow. The back brace would encourage healing, and Elsie would wear it for six weeks whenever she wasn't asleep or in the shower. For the weeks following that, she would be on a strict physical therapy routine. She was barred from returning to work for at least ten weeks.*

"I'm so lucky," Elsie said, tears coming to her eyes. "My God ... it must have been so awful for poor Daisy! I couldn't have handled it if something more horrible had happened with her watching."

"That girl could easily have saved your life," Beryl said, and Isobel agreed.

"Oh, absolutely! Keeping you conscious was crucial to your outcome. Brain injury is nothing to mess around with, as you well know."

"Yes," Elsie agreed, "and I now have first-hand appreciation for what the kids feel like when they come in concussed, I'll tell you that. This headache is bloody awful."

Just then, Charles knocked.

"May I come back in, if I promise not to help you do anything?" he asked meekly.

"Oh, love, of course you can," Elsie said, extending her hand to him. "I'm sorry, I can be a right bitch when I'm unwell."

"Then I will just have to get used to it," he replied, taking her hand and placing a kiss to the back of it. "And you can ask Isobel how I was when I had my heart attack, but I know her answer will embarrass me."

"Talk about a right bitch," Isobel murmured, and Elsie and Beryl laughed while Charles looked steadily at Elsie's hand. "But that was different - he could walk around and do things, he just didn't want to be bothered!"

"I wasn't lazy, exactly. I was just ... nervous," he said quietly, and Isobel patted his shoulder.

"I know, dear. And your wanting to remain well and heal fast for Daisy's sake was, indeed, admirable. You know I am only teasing you."

"Well, thankfully I had you and Cora there to help me, or I would have been alone," he said.

"Wait, what?" Elsie interrupted, her hand up and eyebrows raised high. "Where was Alice?"

"Mm," Isobel answered, sucking her cheeks in a bit as she pursed her lips together. "Well, she was working. Couldn't get the time off."

Elsie looked between her new friend and Charles, and she felt his hand tense up in her own, felt his embarrassment at this blatant comment about the state of his marriage, particularly in front of Beryl.

"I see," was all she said, but she squeezed Charles's fingers, encouraging him to look up at her. When he did so she smiled brilliantly at him, and he leaned over and kissed her temple.

What kind of woman isn't by her husband's side at every moment when he's just had bloody heart surgery? she thought ... and then, just after the words flew through her mind, she felt positively awful.

"Isobel, Beryl, would you mind leaving us for a moment?" Elsie asked.

"Of course not," Beryl said, knowing from the look on Elsie's face what she was thinking. "Glad you got there in the end, dear. We'll knock when the nurse comes, alright? Give you a fair warning."

Elsie nodded her thanks, and she and a puzzled Charles watched them leave.

"Els? What is it, love?"

She turned to him and he was stunned to see tears on her cheeks. He quickly leaned over and placed his hands around her face, his fingers feeling their way through her hair as he brushed the tears away with his thumbs. "Tell me," he whispered, confused.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie. I can't believe ... my goodness, I've been positively horrid to you since you arrived! I mean, I was so happy to see you here, and then the very next moment I was awake I started harassing you, being bothered by you, when all you were trying to do was care for me. It was completely uncalled for, and awful of me, and I'm so very sorry."

"Hey, what's brought this on?" he asked. She was virtually sobbing and he leaned down to kiss her on the nose. "Elsie, sweetheart, you've been uncomfortable, terrified, tired, and up and down on medication for two days! Of course you've been a bit, well, not yourself," he acknowledged with a small smile. "I don't hold that against you."

She answered the question he asked, and chose to ignore the rest. "What brought it on was the mention that you were all alone when you had your heart attack," she said. "That Alice wasn't with you at all. It infuriates me to think of it, yet here I am begrudging you wanting to be by my side at every moment. I'd be the same if it were you sitting here in this chair, and I know it. I'm ashamed of how I've treated you," she added, leaning her cheek into his palm. "I want you by my side all the time," she whispered.

"In sickness and in health, you mean?" he quipped, and her head flew up, her eyes meeting his.

"What?"

His jaw dropped and he was about to apologize, but only had one thought: Why should I?

"Well," he hedged, pressing his lips together as he gathered his courage. "I just suppose ... I've been thinking ... and ..."

But Elsie beat him to it.

"Do you want to get married, Charlie? Seriously?"

He looked into her brilliant blue eyes, so striking in color that he felt as though he still didn't know the depths of all the shades and facets contained within ... and he understood with stark clarity that he wanted to spend the rest of his lifetime getting to know those shades, those facets, and everything else about her, too.

"Do you?" he deflected, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He took both her hands in his own and rested them in her lap.

She stared at him, at this wonderful, loving, supportive man by her side, the one in whose hands hers were currently tightly grasped because he'd jumped on a plane and flown across the ocean to be by her side when she needed him the most. She thought of how Beryl had needed to be there as her health proxy, and that Beryl and Elsie had to give permission for Charles to even be there in the emergency room; she thought of how he'd not have been able to hold her hand or be by her side, not have been able to hear the words of the doctor, even, without her specific consent. They'd gotten lucky that the doctor was Richard Clarkson, that he knew Elsie a bit and was able to understand how her injuries would affect her jobs, both at school and on the farm. But Charles may not have been able to hear about any of it had Elsie been unconscious, or if Beryl had been away at the time.

She drew her bottom lip under her teeth and gnawed on it for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"I do," she said clearly, trying to keep from crying again (damn, but she'd done a lot of that lately). "God help you, Charlie, because I do."

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her, a chaste kiss becoming somehow deeper as the seconds ticked by ... not tinged with their usual passion, but with something much more meaningful than they'd experienced before.

"I wonder if I was right," she whispered when they broke apart.

"About what?"

She reached her hand up and brushed her fingers over his heart, fingering where she knew the scar resided underneath his crumpled shirt.

"I find it hard to imagine that anyone has ever loved you the way I do," she said, reminding him of a long-ago morning when she'd held him in the wee hours. "I think I'd like to spend the rest of my lifetime showing you that."

Her words mimicked his feelings from moments ago so clearly that he gasped, and she smiled.

"What is it, Charles? Have I shocked you?" she asked, but he just shook his head.

"No. Amazed me, pleased me, touched my heart - and myriad other things that I could say which would be just as hopelessly inadequate - but not shocked. I think I always knew we'd end up here. At least, I hoped we would."

She looked at him strangely. "I didn't know it, not until recently, and I'm sorry that I can say that. But if you offered me millions right now to go back to not having had this conversation, I'd turn you down flat. I do want to be your wife. I just didn't realize it until the past week. And I was so afraid," she added quietly, almost an afterthought even though it spoke to her deepest fear and emotions.

"Why?"

"Because of Daisy. Because I feared she wouldn't want me, wouldn't want to share you with me. That you both just got settled into this new life and that she wouldn't want me to have a big place in it yet, which would have been totally understandable."

"Oh, Els ... I was afraid, too. I was married over twenty years but was never as happy as I am with you. I have Daisy because of Alice, and wouldn't give her up for anything, but I want to embrace that happiness that you've offered to me."

"I was married, too, remember. But it pales in comparison to this, Charlie," she said, tilting her head back to accept another kiss.

Words completely failed him as emotion took over.

"I love you so much," he finally managed, and she nodded.

"We'll have to wait, you realize, because I'm not getting married looking like a Ninja Turtle," she said cheekily, and he laughed through the last of his tears.

"You always do that," he commented after a moment, and she looked at him strangely. "You know," he explained, "you make me laugh when I'm upset, or calm me down when I'm worked up about something. The first time you managed it, I ... I don't know, I just knew we'd end up here."

She cocked her head. "When?" she whispered, painfully curious now that her fear was gone. "When did you know?"

Charles licked his lips and looked past her, over her shoulder, and trained his gaze on the doorway - on which a knock sounded before he could answer.

"Saved by the bell," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Elsie swatted him, but then sat back as Isobel and Beryl came back in, accompanied by Sybil and also by Dr. Clarkson.

"Elsie, how are you this morning?" Dr. Clarkson asked, reaching down to feel her pulse in her wrist as he looked at his watch. He released her hand when he was done and added, "Still beating, so that's good. A tick faster than I'd like, but we'll let it slide," he added with a knowing look which made Elsie flush and made Beryl shoot her best friend a look that said, What's this? Elsie closed her eyes briefly and shook her head: Not now.

"Pain level?" the doctor asked.

"Six," Elsie lied. More like an eight, but time to go home, lass.

"Six?" He raised an eyebrow. "And the leg?"

"Seems fine," Elsie replied.

"Now that's a lie," Beryl interrupted. "She struggled with it in the bathroom just now – almost fell, good thing I was there."

"I see," Dr. Clarkson said, shooting Elsie an angry look. "You know better, Elsie. I'm inclined to keep you overnight for this, just to observe you …"

"But you won't," she retorted, "because I'd leave AMA.** So here we are. Give me steroids for the leg if you want, but I am going home."

"Oh, don't you worry – I shall," he said, already typing the new prescription into the computer. "Between the Vicodin and steroids, good luck to your friends," he added with a smirk.

"Yes, we've had the 'bitchy Elsie' conversation already, thank you very much," Elsie grumbled.

"Alright," Dr. Clarkson continued. "Well, as long as you're set up at home to be taken care of, you're free to go, Elsie."

"Take the medication, Elsie," Sybil offered. "Get some rest."

"I can manage," she insisted, and the doctor chuckled.

"I give you less than twenty-four hours," he said. "You've been on medication the entire time you've been here, don't forget. Besides, with that concussion you won't be doing much of anything for days - you know the routine, Elsie. No reading, phone, computer, or television for longer than an hour at a time, with frequent breaks and with those hours spaced apart greatly."

"Yes, I'm to be sequestered in my own room, looking out the window and wishing I could do something."

"I'm guessing you'll be wishing you were sleeping away the boring hours – take the meds, Elsie," Richard advised. "Let your body rest and heal."

She sighed loudly through her chapped lips, reminding herself how much she just wanted to be in her own bed.

"Fine."


The next twenty-four hours went by in a haze for Elsie. She'd gotten home and made it five hours before she was going stir crazy. Charles convinced her to take a pain pill before going to sleep, and she acquiesced just to make him stop bringing it up. But she couldn't say she wasn't grateful; it was the best night's sleep she'd had in days.

"Elsie?"

Charles peeked in on her, and saw her eyes flutter as she woke.

"Charlie?" She swallowed a few times, trying to moisten her mouth enough to be able to speak. Like a flash, Charles was by her side with some ice chips, and he placed a few in her mouth.

"Just until you're up and we're sure you won't be sick," he said, and she nodded gratefully. "Isobel suggested it. She's gone now but will be in to check on you tonight."

"Where?" Elsie asked, relishing the cool feel of the ice on her throat. "Where is she now?" she clarified.

"She's staying at the beach house, actually. Mary insisted just before she left last night. You were out like a light by then," he said softly. He reached over to brush her hair away from her forehead, where it had stuck a bit during the night. "You're not feverish, which is a relief," he murmured.

Elsie managed half a smile through her sleep- and medicine-induced haze. "Thank you. Daisy, is she coming over at all? Surely she will stay here."

"Do you want her here?"

Elsie's eyes widened with concern. "Of course. Unless she's too afraid?"

"No, she seems fine," Charles hedged, hoping to delay that conversation for a while.

Thankfully, Elsie just nodded. Just then, Max came in and sniffed her hand, and she reached over to pet him before remembering it was a rather bad idea.

"Ow," she complained. "Sorry, boy, Mummy can't reach."

Max gently hopped up and placed his two front paws on the bed, and Elsie reached for one of them. He kissed her hand, then hopped back down and trotted off.

"Sweet," Charles murmured. "He's trying to take care of you."

"Everyone taking care of me, it's ridiculous," Elsie grumbled.

"And you're in such great shape as to do it yourself? I think not, love," he answered gently. "Now, there's a chair that's been placed in the shower. I insisted on having one, and Isobel brought it over this morning. I knew you'd not abide sponge bathing for a week, and I can manage to get you in and seated enough that you can likely shower yourself. When you're finished, you'll ring this bell." He held it up, and Elsie had to chuckle: it read Ring for Maid.

"Like a child. You're treating me like a child."

"Like someone just broke her back, you mean? Yes, exactly," he volleyed. "How's your stomach?"

"Fine, actually. Hungry. I think I can manage something to eat. Nothing big, though."

"I boiled some eggs last night. One of those with some toast?"

Elsie smiled up at him. "Perfect," she said. "And I'd give my right arm for a cuppa."

"No need to be maiming yourself any further, dear. The kettle's already on. Give me ten minutes, alright?"

She nodded, then rested her head against the pillow.

My goodness, he's already moved in. He must have done – smells like he's showered, like his soap, his shampoo. Clean, crisp clothing. He shaved. Daisy coming back, too. He's made food, put on tea … this is too good to be true …

His gentle knock before fully re-opening the bedroom door took her out of her thoughts.

"Here we are," Charles announced. He entered with a flourish, and Elsie had to smile at the tray that he had balanced on his fingertips: egg in the cup, toast on the side, homemade preserves in a small cup with its own diminutive spoon (wherever did he find that?), teapot with steam pouring from the spout, and a small flower in a bud vase.

"Aren't you sweet? Waiting on me like this, it's going to get old for you pretty quickly, I'm afraid."

"That, my dear, is not going to happen." Charles set the tray on the table he'd placed at the foot of the bed, then moved up towards Elsie. "Give me your hand," he commanded, and she obeyed. He gently eased her up, placing his other arm behind her back until she was fully upright, and then piled pillows up behind her.

"Alright, now sit back gently," he encouraged, noting the wince on her face as she did so. "Your leg?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, it's weak, but every once in a while I get this awful twinge."

"Well, we'll feed you and then it's time for the steroid pill, then maybe we can get you showered before your next pain pill."

Elsie just nodded as Charles unfolded the legs of the tray and placed it over her lap. He reached for the teapot and made to pour, but Elsie held out a hand to stop him.

"Milk in first," she reminded him, and he chuckled – she'd chastised him for this last time, too.

"That's right – I'd forgotten. It won't happen again," he said, and he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

"Better not," she smirked. "Care to join me?"

"I've eaten, but I'll have another cup of tea," he said, and left to retrieve another cup and saucer.

"Here we are," he said, pouring his own tea.

"Wherever did you find this?" Elsie asked, holding up the preserves.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind … I went through the hutch, actually. Couldn't find one in the kitchen."

"Yes, as I usually just take it straight from the jar like a normal person. This is unnecessary, Charles, really."

"You had one, it's got a purpose, and so I used it." He raised his prodigious eyebrows, and she had to laugh.

"Fine," she allowed. "I will let you pamper me with proper tea and breakfast service as I sit here in my sickbed."

"Damn right you will," he quipped, and she sputtered on her tea.

"Ow," she said, licking the spot on her lip that she'd just burned with splashed-up tea. "Thanks for that."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, rising from his seat. He reached for the back of her head and pulled her forward a bit, then tilted her head up enough so that he could wrap his lips gently around the one she'd burned, kissing it slowly until she moaned.

"Sorry," he whispered, a gleam in his eye.

"That was mean, Charlie. You're teasing me – I can't even move, let alone -"

"Shhh, I know," he said. "But I couldn't resist." He rested his forehead against hers and felt her shake her head slowly.

"It's going to be a long couple of months," she said regretfully, and he hummed in agreement. "I'm not sure having you by my side all the time is a good idea, if just a little kiss makes me feel like that."

"Too bad," he said softly, "because I'm not going anywhere."

She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Okay," she accepted, and he sat back in his seat to allow her to finish eating.

"How's Daisy?" she asked after a moment. "Is she alright, really?"

Charles nodded. "She seems to be. We talked quite a bit last night, about a variety of things," he hedged.

"Charles?" Elsie knew something was up, but wasn't quite catching on. "What is it? Tell me."

He took another sip of tea before setting the cup and saucer back on the little table. "Alright, I will. I was going to wait but, knowing you, you'd refuse to sleep or something until I answered."

"Now I'm worried." Elsie reached for the spoon, tilting it back and forth on the tray with her fingertip. "Is she angry with me?" she whispered, her voice catching.

"What? No! Whatever makes you say that?" he asked.

"It must have scared the shit out of her, Charles, seeing it all happen before her. And she was so brave. She saved me, it's all down to her that I made it out of that as well as I did. If I'd been left unconscious, had passed out or stayed longer, had tried to move without assistance, even …" Her tears spilled over. "She was so strong, and I feel that her efforts came with a heavy price tag."

"She was in shock, I think, but it was a good shock, Els. She realized that she could do it. She was terrified, but she swallowed it down and made things happen – called for help, spoke to the paramedic, locked up and fetched your keys, thought to call upon Mary. She did it all, and it showed her that she doesn't have to hide away when bad things happen."

"But she won't want to be here, won't want to be reminded." Then something else occurred to her. "Oh, God … please tell me she's not afraid of the horses now."

"Well," Charles allowed, "she won't go near Star, but under the circumstances that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"He was just spooked. Not ready. But I thought he was. It could have been Daisy on him, Charles – could have been her who'd been thrown. She'd have been hurt worse than I." She couldn't continue, she was too distraught at the very thought of that.

"Elsie," he murmured, rising from his seat and sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. He wrapped his arm around her gently and kissed her on the top of her head. "Don't. She's fine. She's a bit afraid of Star, but not of being here. She's more afraid of you," he finally said, and her head flew up.

"Me? Why in the world is she afraid of me?"

He took a deep breath. "I wasn't even going to tell you, but perhaps you should know so that you can talk to her. She's afraid you blame her."

"What? That doesn't make any sense, Charles. Daisy didn't scare Star."

"I know, and she knows that, but she still feels like she could have … I don't know, maybe not wanted to ride that day? Not looked forward to riding him as much as she did? She seems to think you pushed for that because she wanted it."

Elsie shook her head. "No, that's not it at all! He was adopted with the intent of turning him into a therapy horse. Jamie's been working with him for quite a while now. She thought he was ready months ago, but we still waited. It was such a fluke that he spooked when I brought him out the other day, but it could have happened at any time. I don't even think now that it meant he wasn't ready – he could have just seen a mouse or something. He's a horse, Charles, and horses do those things once in a while."

"I know," he insisted. "But when I told her that, Daisy didn't believe me. I think she needs to have you explain it all, and that might help. But it can wait -"

"No," she interrupted him, placing her hand on his leg, "it cannot wait. Bring her in to see me when she gets here, wake me if you need to. She and I need to talk about this now. I won't have her feeling guilty at all, not for a minute longer than she has to."

"I knew you'd say that," he admitted, "but I want you to rest. We need to find a compromise."

"I need a shower," Elsie said suddenly. "Let me finish breakfast and get cleaned up. Then, perhaps, she can come home and chat with me, with us, and we can at least try to get her straightened out. And then I'll sleep, I promise." She glanced at the clock. "It's only just gone ten, I've got all day – and days upon days after that – to rest."

"I'll agree to that on one condition: I shower with you. Nothing like that," he said upon seeing the smirk on her mouth, "but I don't want you falling or straining to wash your hair. It's the only way, Elsie, until you've built up a bit of strength."

She sighed, knowing she'd lose this particular fight. "Fine."

Charles gave her a quick nod, then left the bed. "Finish up," he said, indicating her tray with a flick of his finger. "I'll be back in a bit."

Elsie just shook her head at him before reaching down to take a bite of her egg. Daft man, she thought. But I love him.

True to his promise, Charles helped Elsie into the shower – which, thankfully, was a walk-in – and got her undressed and settled on the chair before stripping his own clothes off.

"Behave," he said to Elsie, seeing her watch him. "I'll struggle enough with this, love, but if you start then I'm done for."

"I know, and I appreciate it. I really do."

He climbed in and stood behind her, then reached to turn on the water.

"Good?" he asked, holding out the hand-held showerhead to her, and she nodded when she felt the water.

The next ten minutes were spent in silence. Elsie's head was hurting and she didn't want to try to hold up a conversation; Charles sensed this, and spent his time making sure every inch of her skin was scrubbed and rinsed before he reached for the shampoo. He lathered it through her long hair, massaging her scalp in the process. Elsie let a few moans escape her mouth as she reveled in the attention, in his touch that managed to be loving in a non-sexual way. Thank God.

"That feels amazing," she whispered.

"Good," he replied quietly as he reached for the showerhead again. He rinsed her hair, then repeated the process with her conditioner.

"I love this," he admitted. "It's intimate without being intimate," he explained.

"I love you," she replied, and she leaned her head over to kiss his arm. "Thank you for this, for taking care of me. You're quite the home health aide, I must admit."

By eleven, Elsie was dressed in clean pajamas and set back up in bed. Charles had insisted on brushing and drying her hair, and she'd allowed it, astonished by the gentle touch he'd shown through the entire process. He left her hair loose around her shoulders at her request, understanding she'd sleep more comfortably that way. Charles texted Mary and asked her to drop Daisy off whenever they were ready. They arrived at Elsie's about half an hour later, by which point Elsie had just taken one of her pain pills.

"Elsie?"

Elsie looked up to see Daisy's head peeking around the door. She reached her hand out and beckoned Daisy to come in, and the girl complied.

"Daisy," she whispered, taking her hand. "Come on, up here," she added, patting the space in the bed that she'd made for her. "We have to talk, darling."

The tip of Daisy's tongue stuck out – her own little nervous habit, Elsie remembered – but she nodded and complied, trying to climb in gently so as not to hurt Elsie.

"Are you okay?" Daisy whispered.

"I am, thanks to you," Elsie replied. She leaned over and kissed Daisy's temple. "You were so brave, my dear."

Daisy shook her head. "I wasn't," she whispered. "They answered my call, and I couldn't say anything at first. I knew they weren't Papa, or you, and …" She started to cry. "… I was so scared," she whispered. "I didn't feel brave at all. I was shaking, and didn't know what to tell them … I couldn't talk ..."

"But, Daisy, you did speak to them! You told them everything you were supposed to: where we were, my name, what had happened. You kept talking to me to keep me from falling asleep – that was incredibly important. And then you were able to call your Papa and everything! You were remarkable!"

"I didn't feel it," Daisy whispered. "I felt terrified, like a coward. I didn't know what to do."

"Well, what you did was wonderful. You may have saved my life, do you know that? If you'd not been there, I'd likely have passed out. You got Star secured in his stall, too, didn't you?"

Daisy nodded.

"That was very good thinking," Elsie encouraged her. "He could have trampled me in his anxiety if I'd been alone. That alone was an amazing thing you did."

"I didn't think of that myself, though, he just ran in there," Daisy admitted.

"But you thought to slide the bolt on the door," Elsie pointed out.

"I guess."

Elsie sighed, and squeezed Daisy closer to her. "I know you were terrified, and I'm so sorry that happened. I feel guilty myself, you know."

Daisy looked up at her with wide eyes. "Why? It's not your fault Star was spooked! And I watched – you tried to hold on."

"It's not your fault, either, Daisy. You want to know what I think? I think you were afraid because something bad happened, because bad things have happened to you before, and you're starting to think that it has something to do with you."

"How do you know that?" Daisy's voice was barely a whisper, her eyes filled with terror. "How?" she repeated.

Elsie bit her lip for a moment, trying to think of how to explain herself without going into too much detail.

"When I was a young girl, I was a great deal like you, Daisy. Smart, funny, good at school. But, well, sometimes things happened at home that I couldn't control. Bad things. And I often felt that it was my fault, not because I'd done anything, but because I couldn't stop them from happening."

Daisy nodded in wonder, not wanting to imagine what awful things Elsie had seen when she was a little girl, but unable to stop herself.

"Did your parents fight a lot, too?" she asked, startling Elsie a bit.

"They did," she answered, "but my Da was nothing like yours. He was mean, and he used to hurt my Mam quite a bit."

"And you? Or Becky?" she asked.

Elsie shook her head, a little fib that she would never regret as long as she lived. Daisy didn't have to know everything, after all.

"Good," Daisy said with a little nod.

"But I used to wish I could do something to stop it, even though it was out of my control. It took me many years to realize that wasn't logical – I'd moved away and become an adult myself before I knew that."

She paused, and Daisy snuggled in a bit closer, hugging Elsie gently without squeezing her back very much at all. "Does that hurt?" she asked, just to be sure.

"No, I'm fine," Elsie smiled.

"I know what you're trying to say," Daisy told her. "That it's not my fault Mummy and Papa used to fight, that it's not my fault that she … that she died. Or that you got hurt. But it feels like it, sometimes, because it all happens to me."

"I know, sweetheart. I know. But it's not your fault. Your job isn't to take care of the adults in your life, any more than mine was when I was your age. And yet you did take care of me. You spoke to people you'd never met, told them everything they needed to know, and managed better than many adults would have done in your situation. I owe you so much, you know. I can't have you feeling guilty for that, okay?"

Daisy nodded. "Okay." A huge yawn escaped her mouth, and Elsie's own yawn followed, making them giggle.

"Didn't sleep much last night, did you?" Elsie whispered.

"Nope," Daisy said, yawning again. "Bad dreams."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Elsie asked. "How about we both take a little nap, hm?"

Elsie felt Daisy nod and encouraged her to sit up. Daisy then helped Elsie to scoot down a bit, and readjusted her pillow before putting another one next to Elsie's pile.

"Good?" Elsie asked, and Daisy nodded. "Alright, then."

"What's this, now? Is it nap time and no one told me?"

Daisy raised her head to see Charles looking in on them. "Yup," she said simply, and he chuckled.

"And no room for me?" he teased.

"Nope."

Elsie laughed at that. "Sorry, buster. Last man standing gets to do the dishes. No nap for you."

"I see how this is going to be," Charles quipped, feigning disappointment with a pout that would have made a toddler jealous. "Ganging up on me."

"Yup," Daisy giggled, snuggling into Elsie's side a bit. Elsie leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"What the matter, Charles?" Elsie asked, seeing a peculiar look come over his face.

He made his way to her side of the bed, then leaned in and gave her a sweet, albeit short-lived, kiss, not worried one bit that Daisy was there to see it. "I think my heart just exploded, seeing you both snuggled in there," he said.

Elsie hummed a reply, and rested her head on Daisy's. "I'm tired," she admitted.

"May I stay, Papa?" Daisy asked, yawning again. "And I get a kiss, too."

"You may, and you certainly do," he laughed, coming around the other side and peppering her face with small kisses, tickling her in the process until she moved too much. He didn't want her to jostle Elsie, and he stopped immediately.

"Are we staying here?" Daisy asked. "I mean, may we?"

Elsie and Charles shared a surprised look, and he smiled. "Well, it would certainly be easier," he said. "What would you think?"

Daisy nodded immediately. "Yes, I think it would be good. I love it here, Papa. I've already got my stuff in the other room."

"It may be for quite a while," he said hesitantly.

"That's okay. I don't want to go back to Aunt Mary's place, not if we can stay here."

"Well, then," he said, smiling at his girls. "That's settled, then."

He leaned over and pulled up the quilt, straightening the folds as he tucked them both in.

"I expect sweet dreams, ladies. And ring this when you wake up," he added, setting the bell on the nightstand.

"Will do, Mr. Carson," Elsie smiled. "Now leave us alone – we're exhausted."

He left the room, chuckling as he went. As he turned to close the door he saw Elsie shift a bit, moving her arm so that Daisy could get more comfortable. He stood there staring at them with a grin on his face until he was sure they were both fast asleep.

A cold nose on his hand startled him, and he turned to see Max wagging his tail.

"Let's go, then," he said to the dog, closing Elsie's door as he petted Max on the head. "A short walk, then maybe we can each have a few biscuits, alright?"

Max bounded off toward the doorway, where he pulled his leash off the hook. He padded back to Charles and dropped the leash at his feet.

"I guess that's a 'yes,'" Charles said, laughing as he clipped the leash. "I feel like I'm the one being trained here," he added with an eyebrow raised as he looked at the dog.

The gleam in Max's eye told him he was absolutely correct.

What if everything we're looking for

Is right here within our reach?

Because love is all we've ever wanted

Love is the reason we're still here …


* A/N: These injuries and the methods used for recovery are 100% based in fact, from my aunt's fall from her horse, also named Star. The medication, brace, recovery timeframe, x-rays, leg issues, etc. are entirely her story.

**Against Medical Advice.