A/N: To the Guest who left the comment: Ana doesn't need to get some food inside her. What she needs is Christian inside her for a very long hard time ;)à I was at work and started choking on my peanuts when I read this! HAHAHA...very naughty!

This chapter was more than complete and only needed editing, but then my father passed away a week before Christmas and paused this whole process. So always, thanks to all of you for the kind words of encouragement, even after several weeks went past from my hiatus.

As always, you all rock!

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Chapter 29

Christian POV

I'm drifting. The small wooden boat rocks gently as the waves lap at the sides. It's rhythmic and soothing...but there is a clanging mechanical countdown in the distance like some mechanised steampunk crow clock. The clamor is scraping and stinging my skin like nettles... 10...9...8...10...10...9...8...

I manage to pry open my eyes, but I can't even see my hand in front of me from the thick grey fog. It's heavy and sickly sweet, almost like cloying novocaine. ...7...10...10...9...9...

This boat cannot deny it from following the din anymore than a released arrow can avoid meeting its target...8...7...6...5...4... And I'm dumped unceremoniously upon the sand. I dust myself off and head to the only lights and electric static which permeates the darkness: neon.

...10...10...9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4. I push my through the overgrown brush and see… clocks?

Faces that show spite and some depicting tragedy. Some comical or melancholic like bereft and out-of-work circus clowns. White-gloved analog hands spinning and failing to hold on to time. Some small hands are clinging to its second hand. Neon digital lines threw a shimmering coruscation around the clearing while changing and gaining speed as time is counted and then discarded. Just everywhere around me. They wax and wane like oil bubbles splitting and rejoining.

10,10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1!

"It's time to go, silly!" A rusty and chipped talon grips my shoulder. "Wake up, it's about time!" It caws.

I startle myself awake. For that one brief moment I forgot that I am in my hospital bed. Since the head injury I get these disjointed and crazy dreams. I open my eyes but sense that I am not alone. "Ana?" I whisper. I'm afraid to move. If she isn't real I can't bear to be fooled. I lost her once and the pain was too unbearable.

"Yes, it's me." She says so sweetly and softly. Hope builds in my chest and my heart opens. The room is dim and her long hair is down. Odd… I have never seen her hair down before. She seemed to have preferred it up. She is sitting away from me, halfway to me and the other halfway facing the curtains.

I reach for her hand and she immediately takes it. "I thought I lost you, but you're here," I lick the dryness from my lip. I am fully lucid and I know that Ana, in fact is here beside me. I feel a weight is lifted off me.

"Shhh," Ana says and reaches for her MP3 player. "There's so much I want to say, but I think this will say what I need to." She presses play.

I don't recognize the song, but it's sweet and melodic. I listen to the words and I hope that I know what she is trying to say. It's very beautiful.

She's telling me that she loves me. Every fear inside me dissolves. Tears fall but they are tears of relief. Tears which were held back like prisoners when Elena said Ana was in danger. Tears that choked and seized and held me down.

The song continues and tears continue to flow. I want time to stop so badly so I can enjoy each minute in detail. If I could master time I would make it beg forgiveness for wanting to pass each second.

Ana presses stop and she looks to me. She is really here. Joy is bursting and everything which paralyzed me with fears no longer existed. The feeling is almost indescribable.

Something has changed, something is different about Ana. I don't know what it is and I can't pinpoint it, but I feel this air of confidence around her.

"It's you," she whispers. It feels like a long time since I heard her voice.

"I still can't believe you're here. What made you come back?" I have so many questions but I constrain myself to two. I reach for her hand but she hesitates. What is wrong…my insecurities are starting to play…

She pauses, but then says, "Collateral beauty. This brought me here." She squeezes my hand.

"Collateral beauty? I don't know what that is." I seem to recall there is a movie with that title but I've never watched it.

Ana softened as she spoke but her words were resolute, "Last night was bad and I saw a man die and his watched his family grieving. Collateral beauty is seeing the good that still exists in something or can come from something so tragic." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I thought of you when his family grieved for him. I knew that it could have been me saying goodbye to you and that hurt me—deeply."

These words remind me of that report she orated in class. Both held the ring of conviction in her words about being extraordinary. Somehow this brought about her revelations. Then the words sank in… "Wait—tell me why last night was so bad?"

I pull her toward me with the hand I still held. She wasn't ready for me pulling her and she looked startled, but not as startled as I was to see her wince. In the dimness of my room I couldn't see what I see now at close range: her face with visible bruising and a bloody lip. "What the hell happened to you?"

Ana POV

I knew that these marks would be noticed eventually, but I was still not ready for this quite so early. I guess I should be thankful that it took those several minutes. I know what he sees: bruises on my cheek and under my chin and a puffy lip. My shirt is hiding the more violent and gruesome marks. I removed the band-aid earlier this morning with hopes that having air on it would be better. I didn't take consequences of moving my mouth into consideration. I felt the cut opening and the sting of blood.

I know I can delay answering and perhaps lie or downplay what happened. But should I? I was full of bravado last night and earlier today feeling that I would tell him everything. I did indirectly declare that I love him. But should I burden him with this? I hate it in romance movies and books where the heroine in the story keeps making foolish decisions and keeps the suspense, and causes the hero in the story to doubt intentions and love is almost lost. Misinformation and misunderstandings at the end seem to become resolved and there is the happily-ever-after. I don't want what this is to become a cliché.

I opt for full disclosure.

I reach and grab a tissue from the box on his side table to dab my lip. "Yesterday after school I went to José's house to do homework." I catch the jealousy in his eyes, but I continue. "Things became a bit weird because he was not doing his work. He started to get a bit fresh with me but his landline rang and he went downstairs to answer it. I wanted to leave so I sent to another room – actually it was his darkroom. Christian, he had dozens of photos of me. I think… I think he was stalking me. There were pictures of my house and my bedroom window. Christian, he took one of us –together when we kissed. He knows."

I look at Christian's shocked look. His eyes are glassy and he clutches my hand once again. I squeeze his hand and continue. "I tried to get away. I really did. I was so frozen. But he caught me in that room. He blocked the door. I was so scared, Christian."

"José started ranting like a lunatic that I was his and that you and Jack got in the way. Christian, he was the one who drugged my drink! But luckily I didn't drink it because most of it spilled out. Kate drank what was left, but later she passed out. Oh God- I have to tell her what José did." Christian closed his eyes but his grimace could not hide his pain.

"He ranted and raved and dragged me –kicking and screaming– back to his bedroom. I couldn't reason with him. He was too far into his delusion that I was his, and that I needed to be punished because I betrayed him." I paused with an audible gulp. "Christian, next he pinned me to the bed and bit and beat me." His hold on my hand was almost painful. He seemed to realize this and he loosened his grip, but never let go.

"How did you get away?" he croaked.

"Things were happening so fast. Just when I thought that I would pass out from the shock and the pain his father burst through the door and pulled him off me. José's dad locked him in a room and we went downstairs to call the police and my dad."

Christian opened his eyes but his face was still grimaced. It feels so good to have this off my chest but I know this must be hurting him to hear it. I consoled him the only way I knew how: I stood and leaned to embrace him. He drew me closer with his one good hand and clutched my hair and shirt in his fist. His sobs mixed with mine.

I pulled back, but he pulls me close enough to kiss the marks on my cheek and my lips. The touch was so gentle that only his soft breath was all that I registered. So I, in return, kiss his eyes and his forehead. We held together as the minutes ticked past.

Finally he spoke. "I have so many questions and I want to scold you so badly. But that is obviously not constructive. I'll have to make do with the fact that you are here, right now with me."

"I know I acted foolishly. I should never have gone to his house. All this time I felt awkward around José, but I ignored the signs." I look at the space on his bed. This is now that moment in time: the before this and the after this… I need nearness. I need him. I tug off my jacket and sneakers and I lean as much as I can into his bed. There is scant room, but he raises his good arm and I snuggle into him and rest my head on his shoulder. I could only hope that this was not hurting him, but if it was, he didn't complain.

"You were very reckless-and foolish. Fifty shades of foolish," he admonished. There was no anger in his words. They seemed to assuage his frustration. I feel him peppering my head with little kisses, like he can't stop touching me. Likewise, I lightly stroke his neck and face, feeling the coppery stubble. These are our cables, anchoring us to this time and place.

"What happened in the end, with José, I mean."

It was getting easier to talk about this. "The police came and escorted him out of the house and for a psyche examination, I think. I didn't want to have him charged – only to see him get the help he needs." I feel him stiffen. "Why are you getting mad?" I can only assume he didn't like what I was saying. "I am angry at him—believe me—but I also can see to forgive him too." Christian's hand tightened against me.

"Stop making bloody excuses for him!" He exclaims.

"I'm not making excuses, Christian. His father confessed to me that there was another girl whom José stalked. José is sick—not evil. I can't in good conscience punish him for that."

"Just when I lost you here the last time, I almost lose you for good." I feel him slowly shaking his head back and forth against the pillow. "What am I going to do with you?" he moans as he tugs me up. I know he wants me to face him. I lean up as much as I can, but my ribs are still tender. He guides me closer until our lips touch. He kisses me, once, twice, a third time and then he kisses the tip of my nose. "I love you Anastasia."

Christian POV

I realize this is the first time I directly told her I love her. I've told Grace, John, and even that bouncer who almost didn't let me back in the bar that I love her. Hell, even in my dreams I've told her I love her. It feels so good to finally say it out loud to her. But I did not anticipate her silence. I give her back a little shake and she finally responds with a soft grunt. She lifts her head and gives me a gentle kiss which deepened into urgency.

She stopped and pulled away abruptly. "I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you—wait that didn't come out right! I mean that if I press too hard I will end up hurting us physically. You're half wrapped in bandages and I have sore ribs—not to mention the cut on my lip won't heal as fast."

I can't deny the heart attack she nearly gave me. Starting sentences with 'I'm sorry but…' never ended well in my experience. "I am willing to take any pain— tenfold even—aside from the pain of you leaving me again. This seemed to mollify her and she snuggled back into my arms.

Moments passed quietly before she tilted her head and gave a small kiss to my neck. "I love you too," she whispers.

Ana POV

I feel so serene but a bit uncomfortable from lying on the arm that had the tetanus shot. I glance at my watch and melancholy sets in as I know I have to get back to the house before Ray gets home. I know I already lost track of time because the light outside seems different. I move out of his embrace and slide over to the chair. I grab my phone and see missed messages from Ray. UGH, I guess I don't have to go home anytime soon…

Christian is asleep. His hand is limp on the bed, so I reach over and gently put mine in his. With my other, I softly trace the lines of veins running from his fingertips to his wrist. His skin is silky and stretches over him like a fine glove. I feel like a bit like a violator, memorizing him like this, but this moment is discreet and only belongs to me.

I need more. I can't describe the feelings I have with my secret hand-holding. I am giddy, and in my bravery, lean closer to kiss his palm. His skin is surprisingly soft. I pull up to see if he is aware of my antics. Eyes closed! I'm safe.

I lean forward to his hand again. I am compelled to run my nose along his wrist. I kiss it softly and set it back into the blankets.

"What are you doing, Little Troublemaker?" Christian opens his eyes and smirks.

"Nothing much," I say nonchalantly, "Just looking." I return his smirk.

X x X

"Earlier you mentioned someone dying. Care to tell me about that?"

"There was more to last night, Christian. When we were the ER, a man was brought into the examination room where I was and he died in front of me." I squeezed his hand.

"Jesus Ana." Christian pulls my hand up to his lips and kisses it softly. "I am so sorry. I don't know how to make it better."

"You don't have to; it's over and now I just have to heal. I'm so sorry to burden you with this, but I just needed to see you."

"Yes, you did come back."Christian pauses. "But is it selfish of me to be thankful that it took a stranger dying to spur you into coming back?"

"What? Where is that coming from? That is a horrible and heartless thing to say." I try to pull my hand away but his grip is tight.

"I'm sorry; I guess I can't explain it right. I can never say the right things when I am around you." Christian shakes his head. "Ana, I am over the moon that you are here today. I am ecstatic even. I've prayed and now you're here. But deep down I feel like you would not have come otherwise."

And he is right. In my foolish and infinite pride I would not have come back right away. My anger fades over his earlier remarks. I can now see what he means. "Christian, I… I felt like such a fool when I left you that night. I was humiliated and I needed time and space to process what happened. And when I realized that my insecurities won over logic, then it was too late and my pride forced me away."