Amelia's new place was nice, she wasn't going to deny that. She liked that it was bright and airy, the view of the countryside uninterrupted for miles. It was all rolling hills that almost touched the white clouds above. She loved it. It would have been perfect if she felt everything else in her life was perfect. She'd grown closer to James over the months and he had been nothing but a respectable gentleman whenever he had been with her.

He had helped her move into her new house, marvelling at the marble kitchen worktops and the free-standing bathtub. The wall at the back of the vast kitchen was made entirely of glass that allowed Amelia to look onto the view behind her. A patio sat just outside of the windows, some of which folded back as bifold doors. Upstairs there were three bedrooms, two with their own bathrooms and a large family bathroom as well. She knew it was too big just for her. She had known as soon as she had seen it.

But it was so remote. It was in the middle of nowhere and, at that moment in time, Amelia wanted to be in the middle of nowhere. She had been thinking about getting back into work, but she had no idea if anyone would hire her based on her name.

"Hey, where do you want this box?"

Amelia turned her head over her shoulder. She had been staring out into the distance, a mug of tea in her hands. "Just leave it in the utility room," she said to James and he nodded, moving through the door at the side of the kitchen into the small utility. She heard him drop the box to the ground and exhale a sharp breath at the loss of its weight.

Hands on his hips, he came back to the kitchen and picked up the other mug of tea that he assumed she had made him. He blew the steam from the top of it and then took a sip, not complaining that she had put a bit too much milk in for his liking. He moved from behind the cabinets and stood next to her, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I've got to say, I've seen it numerous times and it's still a breath-taking view," he said to her and Amelia nodded, agreeing with him on that point.

"It's just tranquil," Amelia said with a nod of her head.

"Yeah," he agreed, "and also the perfect location for a horror movie."

Amelia threw him a glare, her face scowling as a brow rose on her forehead. "Can you not start putting those thoughts in my head."

"Hey, I'm just telling you what usually happens in those horror films. They're all so generic and follow the same formula," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, moving back into the kitchen as Amelia turned to watch him pick at a piece of chocolate from the large bar she had opened the night before.

"Well, I would prefer not to think of my house as becoming the scene for a horror film."

"Hey, you know you'd be fine, right?" he said to her. "The dashing, suave handsome man would save you from any menacing killer."

Amelia threw him a teasing look, lips arching before she raised her mug towards them. "Why? Do you know him?"

"Ha ha," he drawled sarcastically.

"Besides, what makes you think that I'd need anyone to save me?" she asked from him, taking a sip of her tea and placing her mug down on the kitchen table. Moving past him, she picked up one of the other boxes that had been sat in the doorway to the hall. James watched her for a few moments, his own lips arched as he shook his head.

"I think you'd be just fine on your own," he confessed.

Amelia shot him another smirk and took the box upstairs, leaving him down in her kitchen. She began unpacking it in her bedroom, figuring that it was all of her books. She left the box on her king-size bed and tugged out the stacks of hardbacks and paperbacks. Placing them on the bookshelf against her wall, she figured she would organise them in alphabetical order at some stage. But then she spotted it. A book that wasn't hers.

She had placed it on the shelf amidst Austen and Wordsworth. She moved her fingers to tug it out and looked down at the writing in front of her. Her eyes scanned over it and her finger moved over the title and she smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. This most certainly wasn't hers. She kept it in her hands, flipping the pages open and looking at the worn paper. It was Helmut's copy of a book by Machiavelli.

"Hey, I figured this box wanted to be in here too," James said, suddenly appearing by the door.

Amelia turned around quickly, holding the book behind her back and dropping it back onto the shelf. She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ears, stepping forwards and towards him. He dropped the box onto the drawers and Amelia read the side of it where she had scribbled down what was in it. It just said 'bedroom stuff'.

"Thanks," Amelia said to him.

"I was thinking…after this…we could maybe go and get some dinner somewhere? I've looked in your cupboards and there's nothing there at all," James said and Amelia nodded, agreeing with him but not before winding him up some more.

"You've been raiding my cupboards?" she teased.

"Well, someone needs to make a list of what food you need," he said to her. "But we can do that tomorrow instead of tonight."

"You don't need to take me shopping, James," Amelia said to him, voice slightly deadpan as he shrugged and shook his head. "In fact, you don't need to do half of what you do for me."

"We're friends, right?" he replied. "I mean, I know you didn't want to get into anything…but we…"

He trailed off, not entirely certain where that conversation was going. Amelia turned to look to him and saw that his cheeks had tinted red and he was looking down to the floor awkwardly, a hand going to scratch the back of his neck. She wasn't going to deny that he was handsome. He was kind. He was funny. And not once had he asked her if she knew what Helmut had done. Not once had he questioned her or looked at her like everyone else had when they realised who she was. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps this was her chance to move on.

And so she moved silently to face him, her finger curling under his chin. She didn't tilt his head all the way up, instead she simply leaned in closer to him and he realised what she was doing as her lips moved onto his. Closing his eyes, he tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against him as her hands slid along his shoulders. Pulling back after a few moments, Amelia didn't deepen the kiss or want to take it any further. It had been perfectly nice, she wasn't going to deny that. It had been lovely. But Amelia knew what it should be like.

"Wow," James whispered after a moment.

"Yeah," was all that she could say back to him and she nodded her head, hand going to pat his chest in a silent gesture asking him to move back from her. But he didn't. He remained where he was, arms tight around her waist.

"I don't want to rush you into anything…but I've been wondering…if you'd ever feel the same way as I do."

And now she felt horrible. She felt terrible. She was leading him on. The smile on her face was completely fake. "I guess I just needed time," she confessed.

"Take all the time you need," James whispered and bent down to peck her on the lips once more before letting her go. She slipped out of his grip, a hand going to his shirt clad arm and lowering it from around her to let her get away. Slinking over to the box of books, she pulled more out from it and moved over to the bookshelf again.

Looking to Helmut's book, Amelia spoke after a moment, making a totally brash decision that she knew she would curse herself for eventually. She placed the books she carried onto the shelves and then hid the Machiavelli copy amongst them as she spoke to James and he opened the box on the drawers.

"I meant to tell you that I have to go away for a little while," she said, her back to him.

"Oh?" he asked.

Amelia nodded, turning her head over her shoulder to glance back at him once more. "Yeah," she commented. "Lukas's family have asked me to stay with them for a while in Paris…you know, just to catch up and remember."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Amelia shrugged. "It's hard to talk about him," was all she offered him. "I'll only be gone a few days, but I figured that I should go."

"Alright," James said with a shrug, but he looked slightly apprehensive. Did he know that she was lying to him? "I can take you to the airport if you like? Pick you up when you get back?"

"I don't want to impose," Amelia said and he shook his head, placing the throw from the box at the end of her bed and she went back over to it, straightening out the woollen material to drape over the bottom of the mattress.

"You're not imposing, Amelia," he promised her. "Can't you see that I'm pretty taken with you by now?"

Amelia fake smiled once more and pretended to be bashful, keeping her gaze on the duvet beneath her and tucking her hair behind her ear as he moved a hand to the small of her back. She did her best not to stiffen against the movement, no matter how much she wanted to. She tried to relax and let herself enjoy the touch as he ran his fingers along her spine. But she couldn't. She couldn't relax because it didn't feel right. It didn't feel right at all.

…

Amelia hadn't particularly enjoyed lying to James. She wanted to tell him the truth about where she was going, but she couldn't. He had dropped her off at Norfolk airport thinking that she was flying to Paris, but as soon as she was in the terminal, she headed straight over to the desk to check-in for the flight to Berlin instead. She handed over her documents, the woman behind the desk arching her brow and studying her photo for longer than was really necessary.

She'd deposited her small suitcase to go in the hold and made her way through security. She wondered if she was doing the right thing, sitting in the departure lounge. She waited until the last call for the flight before she went to the gate. She was the last one onto the plane, storing her bag under her seat. She had taken the aisle seat, hopeful that no one would make conversation with her as she kept her earphones in.

And that was how she ended up where she was. She knew hardly any German, only the odd useful phrase. But somehow she had ended up at the prison where they were keeping him. She'd lied to James. There had never been a family reunion. Lukas's family wouldn't invite her to such a thing anyway. They had never entirely approved of her, she knew that.

As soon as she had seen his book and had kissed James, she had made her decision. It had been impulsive and without any thought. But she had made it. She just needed to see him. Did she hope that it would give her closure? Did she hope that it would give her what she needed? She didn't know. She had no clue. All she knew was that she wanted to be there. She wanted to see him again.

And so she had checked into the hotel in Berlin and taken a taxi to the prison. The visit had taken quite some time to organise. He was heavily guarded and not really allowed anywhere without supervision. Amelia had submitted to being patted down, checking she had nothing with her that could be dangerous. She'd had to leave her bag in a locker, but she had taken the book with her after the guards had checked it meticulously in advance. Carrying it by her side, she followed a brunette woman whose keys were jangling against her thigh noisily.

She unlocked a door and stood to the side, motioning for Amelia to step through the door. She did as instructed; moving into the room and through a small corridor into a larger open space. She turned to the side and saw the large pane of thick glass with small holes in it. He was behind it, stood there and dressed in a grey sweatshirt with grey joggers. He looked nothing like the man she had known who wore the most expensive shirts and trousers. His hair had grown too, hanging into the nape of his neck with strands dangling by his forehead. He looked paler than usual, his chin covered in stubble and his eyes seemed sad.

"Amelia," he whispered her name.

They had told him that he had a visitor again, but he had expected to see Oeznik, not her. He hadn't expected to see her again after they had said goodbye. But here she was, stood right in front of him and looking every inch the woman he had known before. Her hair had been cut and now sat dangling just over her shoulders. She was wearing a long, olive coloured skirt with a black jumper tucked into it, a long trench coat hanging loose over her shoulders. She looked good, he couldn't deny that. Her cheeks seemed fuller but it only emphasised her high cheekbones and full lips. But there was something in her gaze. There was sorrow there.

"Helmut," she spoke his name. She hadn't said his name in months. She had thought about him, of course, but she never spoke his name. She didn't know if she had it in her to do that. It was another few moments before she held up the book in her hands. "I brought you this back. I found it when I was unpacking in my new home."

Helmut stepped closer to the glass as Amelia placed the book on the table outside of his cell. Only the guard could give it to him when they restrained him before entering the room.

He looked at her sceptically. "You came all of this way to give me a book?" he asked from her.

She shrugged. "I…I don't know why I came, truth be told," Amelia said, not quite meeting his eye and he sighed. He had his suspicions as to why she had come, but he didn't air them. Instead, he sat down on the end of his bed and motioned to the chair behind the line on the floor that no visitor was allowed to cross.

Amelia perched on the edge of it and crossed one leg over the other. There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Helmut spoke, opening with pleasantries, not ready for heavy conversation just yet.

"You moved house?"

"Yes," Amelia said, grateful he had said something as she struggled to think of what to say. "It's a new build in the countryside, just down the coast from the old apartment. It's far too big for me really, but I…well…I wanted to be in the middle of nowhere. It's not exactly been easy."

"I know," Helmut told her with a nod of his head.

"You know?" she asked from him.

"I do get a radio in here," he said to her. "Granted, German radio stations do not often mention your name, but Oezik visited me. He told me how the media in the UK had printed less than favourable headlines about you."

"That's a nice way of putting it," Amelia scoffed and tucked her hair behind her ear. It was a nervous habit. He knew that. "But, they've stopped now. They've moved onto the latest big story and left me in peace."

"And you're fine?" he asked.

"As fine as can be," she said with a shrug. "I guess I just need to try and adapt back to normal as soon as I can…sorry…I know it can't be easy…being stuck in here and listening to me talk about normal life."

Amelia looked around. She had been to Helmut's home in Sokovia a few times before. It had been grand, with a number of rooms leading off of each other. She had almost felt a child as she looked at their grandeur. And now he was trapped in this one small room.

Helmut shrugged. "It is only fair I am here," he said to her. "You do not need to concern yourself with hurting my feelings, Amelia. I can cope."

She nodded once. She knew that much. He was where he was supposed to be. But then she knew that it would only be right that she occupied the cell next to him for what she had done. But no one knew any of that and she wondered if she was a coward for not telling anyone. She spoke about justice and acted so righteous, but she had no right.

"Stop it," Helmut urged from her.

She looked him in the eye once more and frowned in bewilderment.

"What?"

"You're thinking," he told her. "Thinking about how it's not fair that you're living a normal life and I'm in here."

"We should both be in there," Amelia replied in a whisper.

"No," Helmut said with a shake of his head, "you're not supposed to be in here. You're supposed to be out there and living your life. Besides, I take it you have moved on more than you think you have."

"Why would you say that?"

"Your engagement ring is on a different finger," he said.

Amelia looked down to the rock on her finger. She had moved it. She had switched the ring onto her right hand instead. She moved her hand over it, covering it from his view. Shrugging, she tried to act nonchalant, but she knew that she should tell him about James. But what was there to tell? Amelia wasn't entirely certain on what they were anyway.

"I thought it might be for the best to try it out," Amelia said to him. "I didn't want to take it off, but it didn't feel right wearing it as an engagement ring anymore…after everything…and well…"

"And well?" Helmut pushed her.

Oeznik had told him that she had been with another man. He had told him that he had spotted her going out with him and so this shouldn't come as a surprise to Helmut. But that didn't explain why he felt his heart race and his stomach churn. He was being foolish and selfish, he knew that. Foolish because Amelia had a life while he didn't. Selfish because he didn't want her to have a life without him. There would be no winning and he was aware of that.

"There's someone I'm seeing," Amelia confessed to Helmut. "I met him in my apartment block and we've been hanging out ever since."

"I see," was all that Helmut could offer her. He didn't know what more he could say on the matter. He felt himself deflate, almost as though he was sinking.

"His name is James," she said to Helmut. "He works in finance and we've been seeing each other officially for a few weeks now. He's a nice guy. He's smart and funny, plus he's pretty normal…athletic…has great friends…"

"He sounds perfect," Helmut said, wondering if he sounded venomous, despite the fact that he was trying not to. He had no right to sound like that. He told himself to remain calm, but then Amelia spoke, playing with her fingers, lacing them and then unlacing them.

"Yeah, he is," Amelia said.

"Why do I sense there is a but?" Helmut wondered.

"There's always going to be a but, Helmut," Amelia said to him and her gaze met his once more.

But he's not you.

They both knew it. They both were well aware of what it was they wanted to say, but they didn't. Neither of them said it because it was too raw to say. It was too painful. Amelia didn't want to tell him how every time James touched her, she almost froze. She then closed her eyes and sometimes tried to convince herself that it was just like Helmut holding her. Whenever he kissed her, it would be Helmut's image she saw when her eyes closed. And she hated herself for what she was doing to James. She didn't want to string him along. She wanted to tell him the truth. But she didn't.

"It just takes time," Helmut said to her. He wanted to tell her that he knew how she felt. He knew because in the dead of the night he would imagine what she was doing with her new man. He would imagine the moans she would make: the same moans that she would pant into his ear at one time.

"Yeah," Amelia said to him, nodding her head. "I hope so, anyway."

"And you?" Helmut wondered. "What are you doing now?"

"Still trying to figure that out," Amelia said with a nod of her head. "I sold Lukas's townhouse in Paris and the apartment in Norfolk. It was enough to pay for the house I'm living in now, but I have been thinking about trying to get a job."

Helmut looked amused. "Are you forgetting that I gave you four million pounds?"

"Not in the slightest," Amelia said with a shake of her head. "I just don't feel right in spending it. You know what I'm like. I'm too proud."

"I remember trying to give you the money," Helmut retorted. She chuckled at that because she also remembered that rather well. She remembered fighting him on it and telling him that it was far too much. But it still sat there in her bank account. "Why not go on and get your Masters degree? Study for a PhD?"

Amelia scoffed. "Because that dream was from a long time ago," she retorted. "I don't know if I'd be any good now. Besides, aren't I too old to go into a classroom again? Imagine me going to a seminar."

"You're never too old to do what you want to do," Helmut said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Why not at least try it and see how you go? You'll only regret it if you decide not to try."

"Perhaps," she agreed weakly with him. "I need to have a think about what to do."

"You'll succeed in anything you do," Helmut told her. "You're far too determined and intelligent not to. I saw that clearly enough."

Amelia smiled softly. It was that shy smile. She didn't deal well with compliments and Helmut knew that. But he found it endearing. He found her endearing even after months of her being away from him. Moving to his feet, he stood up and Amelia watched him take a few steps towards the glass before she saw it on his bedside table. Her eyes lit up and she leant forward, arms folded over her chest.

"You're reading Emma," she commented and he turned his head over his shoulder to look back to the book.

He shrugged. "I figured now that I have time to pass I might branch out with my reading."

Amelia scoffed. "Are you enjoying it?" she questioned from him.

"It's not my usual type."

"That didn't answer the question."

Helmut shrugged. "It's enjoyable," was all he offered her.

He didn't want to admit that he was enjoying it more than he thought he would. And so he kept quiet. He watched her for a few moments and she continued smiling, almost as though she knew he was lying and he was enjoying it. But she said nothing on that.

"You know, I was reading on the flight over here that Sokovia…there's hardly anything left of it. It's been completely ravaged by its neighbours," she said and Helmut nodded. He wasn't surprised. It had been a failed state for a number of years. "But there's this memorial being built to remember what happened there."

"I read that too," Helmut said.

"I was going to visit it," Amelia said to him. "I know that Sokovia was never my home, but it was Lukas's home…Heike and Carl's too…I guess I just want to go and see."

Helmut nodded. He agreed with her on that point. He would go to if he could. She peered over to him as he said nothing, hands dangling by his side.

"I know it's not the same," Amelia said to him, "but I can…I was going to take some flowers for Lukas and I know Heike always loved tulips…I could take some for you, if you wanted?"

Helmut was silent then. He knew that he would never be able to do it himself. And here stood Amelia who, despite everything he had put her through, was asking him something so selfless and thoughtful. He nodded once, unable to find the words to tell her what that meant to him.

"Alright," Amelia retorted and there was a sudden banging on the door that caused her to jump back in alarm.

"That's the guard. You only have a minute left," Helmut explained to her and she stood up, her skirt falling down to her calves. "It was nice to see you, Amelia…and for you to come all the way out here to deliver me my book."

"You know I didn't come just for that, don't you?" she checked with him and he observed her intently, unable to take his eyes from her and she longed to reach out and move her hand along his cheek. She wanted to stroke his bearded skin and feel him cradle her cheeks in his palms, forehead pressing to hers and promising her that things would be fine.

But she wasn't going to get any of that.

"I know," he promised her.

"I don't want to miss you, but I do," Amelia confessed, wondering why she had waited until the last minute for this conversation. "I miss you and I hate myself for missing you, but I do."

"I know," he said to her with a soft sigh. "But you need to move on, Amelia. You owe it to yourself."

"And I am trying," she said to him. "But…I can't forget you, Helmut. I don't want to forget you…just that I know I can't be with you anymore and I've accepted that, but it doesn't mean I can forget you."

"It would be for the best if you did."

"And do you want me to?"

"You know the answer to that," he said. "Seeing you today has been the highlight of my miserable existence in here, Amelia, but you coming here is not healthy for either of us."

"And have either of us ever been good at doing the right thing?" she questioned him as the guard opened the door and he knew the answer to that. They both did. And so she left, but he knew that he would be seeing her again.

…

"I can't play chess," Amelia commented.

The routine had continued. Every two or three months she would tell James that she had to go out to Paris to meet with Lukas's family. He never questioned her, however. He would drop her off at the airport and pick her up. They had officially started dating, but Amelia had drawn the line at certain things. She hadn't been able to have sex with him yet, freezing when she felt his hand inch up her thigh one night. She'd told him she couldn't do that just yet, but she'd kept him content by unbuckling his belt and lowering her head to his crotch. She just didn't want him to touch her intimately.

"Yes, you can," Helmut said.

She was sat on the floor outside of his cell, legs crossed underneath her and skirt flowing around her body. She had her hair tied into a ponytail and the sleeves to her shirt were rolled up to her elbows.

"No, I'm terrible," she told him as he set up the chessboard on the table by his bed. He perched on a chair next to it, Amelia sat on the floor metres away from him, but he couldn't reach out for her.

This was her fifth visit to him and Helmut had found that he would count down the weeks until she came to see him. They would discuss everything and nothing of importance. She would tell him about her life in Norfolk, but she rarely mentioned James and he rarely pushed her, preferring not to imagine her with someone else.

"You will be with that attitude," he said and she rolled her eyes as he continued moving the pieces into their correct starting places. "And how is the course going?"

Amelia had started a Masters degree in French Studies remotely. "Good," she answered. "I'm enjoying it and managed a seventy-eight on my first assignment. It's hard work, but I like it."

"I'm glad."

"Anyway, I was looking into PhD programmes after this…" Amelia trailed off and Helmut looked to her from beyond the glass that kept him contained.

"What is it?" he asked, wondering what was wrong as her brows knitted together and creases formed on her forehead. She shook her head, not entirely certain as she looked down to her legs.

"I feel…I don't…" she trailed off, her voice shaking as she saw her legs begin to turn to nothing but dust, the grey flecks flying into the air as the rest of her body began disappearing and Helmut stood up, hands shaking as he moved towards the glass.

"Amelia," he spoke her name, confusion and fear running through him at what was happening to her. She looked up and over to him, her lips parted as he banged on the glass, the dust floating around the room in soft swirls. "Amelia!"

"Helmut," she simply said his name and then in an instance she was gone.

His fists continued pounding on the glass as she disappeared from the room, the dust also vanishing with her. He refused to stop yelling her name, unable to comprehend where she had gone or what had just happened to her. One moment she had been there. She had been there, talking to him about her future. And the next she had disappeared into thin air. He continued chanting her name as a guard ran into the room and looked around, her face filled with fear and uncertainty as she said nothing to him, only spotted that the visitor he had been with had disappeared like half of her colleagues outside.

"Help!" Helmut shouted, looking at her. "Where has she gone? What's happened?"

The guard simply shrugged and ran back out, leaving Helmut alone with no answers. But no one had any answers at that moment in time. All that he could do was slip to the ground on his knees and chant her name over and over again, hoping that by some miracle, she would come back.

...

A/N: Thank you so much to anyone still reading! As you can probably guess, we've moved on a bit by the timeline so the TV series isn't gonna be far off. But plenty of twists to come before then! Let me know what you think!