Rachel needed to leave. Waterloo Road was suffocating her. The building itself seemed dark and ominous, though Rachel supposed that may have been the smoke damage. Regardless, as soon as the builders were happy and the governors pacified, she escaped as quickly as possible, carrying on Eddie's lie and mentioning that she wanted to check on her nephew as she slipped away from the group standing outside, her lungs filling easier the further away she'd driven. She left so quickly, that she'd forgotten all about the letter in her bag until she was halfway home.

Just as well, because she dreaded what Eddie's reaction would have been if she'd handed it over in front of him. He'd been distracted when she left, caught up in a four-way conversation that he hadn't been able to pull away from, even when he'd seen her leaving. But there had been something in his expression, an emotion Rachel couldn't quite identify, a sort of devastated grief and without a doubt she would have preferred his anger any day of the week.

Closing her front door behind her didn't hold the relief it usually did- if anything, the click of the lock only seemed to emphasise the penetrating quiet of her house. She swallowed harshly, winced at the harsh sounds of her heels clacking as she walked into the kitchen where she stopped in confusion, the cabinets blurring in front of her eyes.

It was only when she lifted her fingers to her face and found them coated in clear liquid that she realised she was crying.

It was as if the realisation opened the floodgates. She gasped out a sob, stumbled forward and just managed to catch herself on one of the dining chairs, not even aware as she collapsed, hands covering her face. She hadn't cried properly, not like this, and now it seemed as if her body was taking revenge for that because she couldn't stop. She wept helplessly, barely able to breathe as months' worth of emotions poured out of her. Hordley, Eddie, his family, the fire- all of it came crashing around her and she found herself choking on her tears, her whole body shaking with the force of them.

And then a hand landed on her shoulder. She shrieked, jumping backwards as best she could in the chair because she hadn't heard her front door open, nor the footsteps in the hallway and had no idea how someone was in her house.

Eddie, to his credit, looked faintly apologetic, but offered no explanation and for a long moment, Rachel could only stare at him in shock. "How did you get in?"

Her voice was hoarse and choked, ravaged by tears and she winced internally at it. Eddie didn't show any outward sign of noticing, his own voice quiet and surprisingly gentle. "I know where you keep the spare key. After this afternoon, I got worried when you didn't answer the door."

She hadn't even heard him knock. Rachel ducked her head to hide the state of her face, felt a fresh wave of tears burn down her cheeks against her will and her fist clenched reflexively, nails digging into her palm. The movement drew Eddie's gaze, and his frown deepened. "Rachel?"

A touch to her hand had her flinching once again, and she closed her eyes. "Get out, Eddie. Go away."

"I'm not going to do that."

Simple words, but enough to spark a firestorm inside her. Rachel shoved to her feet so quickly the chair rocked behind her, close to falling as her eyes flashed and she allowed spite and malice to fill every syllable she spat at him. "Was leaving in the middle of the night too subtle for you? We're over, Eddie! We should never have got back together in the first place, it was a mistake! I don't want you here, I don't want you near me!"

"I know."

And Rachel stilled. Because Eddie should have grown angry, should have shouted back and retaliated until their words and the tension grew into an inferno that scorched everything in its path, impossible to fully recover from. She had always known exactly how to fan the flames when it came to his temper, and this should have catapulted him over the edge. But instead… instead he was calm. His voice quiet, no sign of anger or bitterness or even irritation. If anything, he looked… sad. And it was strange enough that Rachel paused, uncertain at the sudden change in script that she hadn't been expecting.

Eddie blew out a long breath. "I spoke to Candeece," he said, and someone had thrown a bucket of ice over Rachel. "I hadn't before- maybe I should have. But I hadn't thought much of it, not until I saw you today, your reaction when anyone touched you." Rachel had paled, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. He saw it, and gentled his tone even further as he continued. "You had a panic attack that I thought you were going to pass out from, and you had it because we'd gone to the back of the school, to where Stuart had you and Candeece."

"Stop it." Her voice was raspy, shaky, and Eddie's eyes were sorrowful when he looked at her.

"She told me what happened," he said softly. "As much as she knew, anyway. And it wasn't a huge leap to link that with the night you left, what happened in bed."

"Stop it!"

"He hurt you." His voice was flat, insistent. "I might not know the details, but I know he had you pinned. Trapped. I don't know what he did from there, but I can make an educated guess. Especially if I put it together with Candeece's guesses-"

"STOP!"

Her scream surprised both of them. Ragged breathing had her chest heaving, one hand clutching almost convulsively at the back of the chair as they stared each other. Eddie could see the way her body hitched each time she inhaled, and it was as if he could see how tremulous her control was at that moment. "Rachel…"

"No." Her hiss surprised both of them. "You have no right!"

"Maybe not," he agreed instantly. "But someone has to snap you out of this."

"Snap me out of it?" Her voice rose again, incredulous and he could have groaned.

"You can't shut yourself away, Rachel. You can't run off and hope it goes away! It won't. Today proved that."

"Get out, Eddie." She turned her back to him, but he shook his head anyway.

"I'm not going to do that. You need someone, Rachel. I know you don't want help, I know you think you don't want me here, but I'm not leaving you. You can lash out at me all you want," he told her. "If you want to run again, go ahead. If you want to scream and shout until your throat is raw, I won't judge. But the one thing I won't let you do is push me away. I'm not going anywhere, Rachel, so you might as well give up that particular fight right now."

For her to simply turn and stare at him was not quite the response he'd been hoping for. Eyes wet, cheeks stained with tears, looking so vulnerable that he wished more than anything he could tuck her in his arms and hide her away from the world until she felt better. "You don't mean that." Her voice was raw and shaky, riddled with exhaustion.

"Yes, I do. You're not getting rid of me that easily, Rach."

"Eddie, you don't understand…"

"Then tell me! Rachel, I love you! What is it you're so afraid of here?"

But she'd blanched, stepped backwards away from him. "Don't. We're over, Eddie. Whatever you think you know, you're wrong."

Now, he smiled an odd half-smile that seemed less amused and more resigned. "The problem you have, Amy, is that as much as you know me, I know you as well. You think I don't know what you did? That you purposefully left me in the one way you knew would make me angrier than anything?"

From her expression, it seemed that she did think that.

"You did the one thing you knew would guarantee me walking away. After everything that happened, you knew that would be the one thing we wouldn't be able to come back from." He looked at her calmly, forced himself not to shout at her like he wanted. "And it almost worked. I was beyond furious when I realised what you'd done. Maybe I still am, a little."

"Then why are you here?"

He sighed. "When you get scared, you run. You ran from me at first, you ran to London, from London. I've always known that about you. I love you in spite of it." He tried to inject humour into his voice, but it fell flat as she looked at him, arms curled around herself.

"Eddie…"

"I love you, Rachel," he said frankly. "I am so in love with you, I always have been. You aren't damaged, you're certainly not not good enough for me like Beth insinuated. You went through something, and it's terrified you. And we'll deal with that. Together."

But she was frozen in place, tears tracking down her cheeks as she closed her eyes, knuckles white where she'd moved to grip the back of the chair. "You don't understand."

"Then tell me! Make me understand. Do you really think there is anything left in the world that could change how I feel about you?"

She shook her head slightly. "You can't touch me, Eddie," her voice cracked halfway through her words. "I can't... I..."

"So I don't touch you," he shrugged.

"It's not that simple!"

"Yes, it is." He looked at her in exasperation. "It is that simple! I love you, I'm not going anywhere! So if what you need right now is for me not to touch you, then that's what I do!"

There was a few beats, in which Rachel only stared at him, before her face crumpled and she turned from him, burying her hands in her face. "It is that simple," Eddie repeated, stepping closer but refraining from reaching out for her. He waited for her to calm, wishing more than ever that he could reach out to her, and it seemed an eternity before she raised her head once again, face ravaged by tears, and her gaze met his. They were both breathing unsteadily, emotional, the air practically crackling between them but it was so silent that Eddie could hear the way her breath hitched, the way she had to swallow back the sobs that threatened.

"He touched me," she choked out, and his stomach fell through the floor. "He had his hands on me, and I couldn't stop him. And it's not the first time someone has… but I can't get it out of my head. The way he felt, and no one knew where I was…"

"Amy…"

"How can you say you love me?" She looked at him helplessly. "How could you possibly still want me? Your family is right, Eddie, you should be with someone better, someone less damaged, who can give you everything you want without hesitation."

"What I want, is you."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. I do mean that." He looked at her earnestly. "All I've ever wanted was you. In whatever form that comes. Rachel, my family are wrong, they've always been wrong. They judged you without even knowing you, and they're wrong. You think you're broken in some way, but you're the strongest person I know. That I've ever known. I don't care if we never have kids or if we have a football team, if we stay in Rochdale for the rest of our lives or move around the entire country. All I care about is that we do it together. Sweetheart, I won't pretend I understand you pushing me away, but I can tell you you're already forgiven for it."

There was a beat of incredulity. Rachel was staring at him in astonishment, eyes wide. "You should hate me," she whispered, so quietly he almost didn't hear her. "Why don't you hate me?"

"Is that what you wanted?"

It was with cautiously guarded eyes that she met his gaze. It rather had been, but she didn't intend to admit that aloud. Apparently, however, she didn't need to, because a knowing look flashed across his expression, lips twisting into a smile that seemed more tired than amused. "Couldn't happen."

They lapsed into silence, watching each other and it was only then that Eddie noticed the way Rachel was almost swaying on the spot, exhaustion written into every line of her face, even the way she was holding herself. It wasn't that late, but she was done, he recognised, overwhelmed and fatigued and pushing would do no good now. "Rachel," he said gently, "you're so tired. Go get changed for bed. I'm going to make you some tea and toast and bring it up to you."

She looked up at him and for one moment he thought she was going to argue, but instead she nodded, and for her to agree so easily she was even more drained than he'd thought, Eddie noted as she left the room and he turned to the kettle.

When he pushed his way into her room, it was to find her sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. "Amy?" It was only when he stepped closer, into her line of vision that she blinked and focused on him, and with her makeup removed the dark circles under her eyes harshly contrasted with her pale skin. He settled on the bed, careful not to brush against her and held out the plate. "Eat."

She took it, but made no move to pick the toast up. "I don't understand you."

"Because you're an open book."

For the first time, there was a faint glimmer of a smile. "Apparently to you I am." Her eyes flicked to his as he gave a laugh, but her smile died as she looked at the toast on the plate, silent so that for the longest of moments, the only sound in the room was their breathing. "You should hate me."

"For leaving?"

"For everything."

He looked at her and wished he could hold her. "Rachel, we've been over this. Everything that's happened… none of it is your fault."

"We both know that's not true."

Eddie sighed. "What do you want me to say, Rach? I'll reassure you every day for the rest of our lives if that's what you need, but it doesn't seem to be making a difference. Do you blame me for anything that's happened?"

"Of course not!"

"Then how could I possibly blame you?" He looked at her earnestly, trying to make her see how he felt and she seemed to be studying him, searching for something in his face. He didn't know what, or if she found it because without warning she looked away, eyes closing for a moment.

"I'm tired."

He resisted the urge to sigh, and simply nodded as he rose to his feet. "I'll let you sleep." But before he left, he hesitated. Because now was usually when he'd kiss her goodnight, or press his lips to her hair in a silent goodbye but he couldn't do that now, and yet it felt wrong to simply walk out. He swallowed hard, ignored the way his fingers twitched as he fought not to reach out for her. "Goodnight, Rach."

There was a few beats where she looked at him with the oddest expression on her face, before she dropped her gaze and shifted away from him, her voice quiet. "Goodnight."