Chapter Summary: Annalise begins drug withdrawal and the fight for her life. Her family begins the fight to stay together.

CHAPTER FORTY

It had been eight hours since the carriage carrying Andrew and Annalise had stopped in front of the portico to her home. Five hours since Annalise had finally given in to the sleep that longed to claim her exhausted mind and body. Two hours since Doctor Nesselien had returned with clothing for at least a week, several books and files of notes. He had briefed Annalise's brothers and their wives so that they would know what to expect before taking a quick look at Gustave and ordering him to bed for the night. The doctor had thenw contorting in pain.

Christine reached out for her daughter, lightly caressing her shoulder. "Annalise," she said and smiled as Annalise opened her eyes.

"Maman?" Annalise wondered, her hands reaching out to grip her mother's, her brow still contorted. "My back hurts."

"Why do you not try rolling onto your side?"

Annalise took her hands back and rolled onto her side. "It does not help," she said and looked at her parents' worried faces. "I am sorry. There is nothing wrong." She gave them a shaky smile and tried moving to a sitting position. "See, there is nothing wrong."

"Annalise," her father began, "you do not need to say there is nothing wrong if it is not true."

"If I do not, I will get into trouble," Annalise explained as she sat up. "Please do not put me into the closet again, please! There is nothing wrong." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand only to fall into her father's arms. She looked at him as the tears began. "I am well. Please, not the closet!"

Raoul lifted his daughter up, vaguely aware of Christine at his side, his anger at Annalise's words threatening to overwhelm him. "No one is going to put you in any closet."

"He did," Annalise said, her breathing rapid, the tears still falling. "He would bind me and put me in the closet whenever I said things were not well. You will not do that to me? You will not put me in the closet?"

"No," Raoul assured her as he eased her back to bed. "I will allow no one to put you in any closet."

"Please try and remember you are home," Christine pleaded with her daughter. "No one here is going to hurt you."

"Yes, all right, I shall try," Annalise said as lay down on her side, curling into a ball. "My back still hurts."

Richard and Leonie came in two hours later to relieve their parents and the doctor. Annalise was asleep again but it was a very light and restless sleep.

"I had the maid bring trays up to the sitting room," Richard said. "I did not think you would wish to be far from Annalise."

Christine smiled at her son. "You have grown into a fine young man," she said. "I am very proud of you."

"Let us know if there is any significant change from her current condition," Doctor Nesselien said as he followed Raoul and Christine out the door and across the hall.

"The backache is only the beginning of the pain," Dominic Nesselien told Raoul and Christine as they sat around trays of food that had been barely touched. "I am afraid it is only going to get worse."

Overnight it did worsen as a familiar pain began to wrap Annalise in its tight grip. Richard, sitting with his father, was awake when the first stabs of pain drew a sharp gasp from his sister. He quickly stood and leaned over Annalise who was sitting upright, rocking back and forth on her bed.

"Not again, not again," she was repeating.

"Annalise," Richard said as he tried to get her attention by laying a cool hand on her head.

"Do not hit me!" she cried as she wrapped her arms about her middle. "It hurts. Oh God, it hurts." She looked up at her brother, trying to focus on his face. "Make it stop. Please make it stop."

"I wish I could make it stop for you," Richard whispered back, his concern evident in his face. "I wish I could take your pain."

Annalise wrapped her arms about her brother's neck, pulling him close. "Just hold me till it goes away. You were always so nice to me. Not like the others."

Richard sat down on the bed, still holding his sister, feeling her fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt as she worked through the pain. He was unaware of his father watching from beneath hooded eyes. "You do not mean that. You know how fond we all are of each other."

Annalise turned her head to look out the window at the dark night. "We used to be," she said and gasped as another sharp pain stabbed through her mid-section.

The first night faded away into morning. The bright summer sun streaming in through the lace curtains of the bedroom did little to chase away the invisible shadows that clung to every wall, every piece of furniture, every soul. It also brought a change of companions for Annalise. Richard left to get some sleep as the sun had fully risen and tried to get his father to do the same. It had begun as a vain effort for Raoul refused to leave his daughter's side, the emotional turbulence and lack of sleep from the previous week taking their toll on him, his ability to think clearly. Annalise had listened to the interchange between her father and brother from the bed, her back to them, her pain and discomfort increasing, setting her nerves on edge.

"Maman and Jean-Paul will be here to stay with Annalise," Richard tried again. "Sir, please, you were the one who said we all needed to keep our strength up."

Raoul shook his head, opening his mouth but the words never came.

Annalise rolled over, cried out in pain and fixed an irritated gaze on father and brother. "Leave me in peace!" Annalise said, her whispery voice harsh and grating. The tears started to come and Annalise pulled back as Raoul started to reach for her. "Do not touch me!"

"What is going on?" Christine asked as she came into the room, Jean-Paul behind her, waiting in the doorway.

Annalise wrapped her arms about her middle, drawing her knees up in pain. "Go away," she told everyone, closing her eyes and moaning softly.

Christine walked over and gently touched her husband's shoulder only to feel him shrug her off. She wore a confused look on her face as Raoul stood and turned around. "What ..." she began.

"I cannot," Raoul started and stopped. "I just ..." He shook his head in frustration. " ... cannot."

"Raoul," Christine said as she reached for him again only to have him once more shrug her off.

"Please do not," Raoul told her as he gave a last look his daughter before walking out of the room.

"Should I go after him?" Richard asked as he looked to his mother.

Christine shook her head. "No," she told him thinking she understood what her husband was feeling. "But you should get something to eat and go to your wife and child." She smiled at him as Richard opened his mouth. "I will send for you when you are needed." She watched as he walked out of the room, stopping to grasp his brother's shoulder. Jean-Paul returned the quick embrace before moving into the room to sit where his father had. Christine turned her attention to the doctor who had been sitting in the corner. "You must get some rest, as well," she told him.

His muscles protested their indignance as Dominic rose and stretched. He kept hold of some notes as he arched his back before moving to the bed where he looked at Annalise who had opened her eyes and was glaring back at him. Dominic returned the glare with a smile, trying not to aggravate his patient any further. He turned to look at Christine. "Do not let me sleep more than a few hours," he instructed. "Should things change ..."

"I shall come for you," Christine assured him. She turned towards her daughter as the door clicked shut behind the doctor. "Annalise?" There was no answer. "Would you like one of us to read to you?" Annalise turned her angry glare to her mother before rolling to her other side. "My dear ..."

"Leave me alone!"

Christine bit her bottom lip and sighed before taking the seat next to her eldest child. She felt Jean-Paul's hand reach out to cover her own and she looked at him, giving him a brief smile. He was so much like his father in looks and mannerisms. He could be stubborn and impossible and thoroughly aggravating; yet he felt things deeply and quietly, taking everything to heart. Christine studied her son's incredibly warm brown eyes for a moment, wondering and worrying what would happen if his sister's anger were to lash out at him. Christine knew Jean-Paul already carried guilt over what he thought was his role in what had happened. How much worse would it be if words were spoken that would not be remembered and could not be taken back?

"Maman?" Jean-Paul wondered, a frown crossing his handsome face. "Is there something you need me to do for you?"

Christine shook herself. "Yes," she replied.

"Anything," her son told her.

"Just stay here with me," Christine said as she clasped her son's hand.

They would sit together for the next several hours as early morning moved its way to mid-day. They would watch and worry, as Annalise's condition grew progressively worse in little stages. Her restlessness became fidgeting as she kicked at the bed linens, fumbled with the pillows and constantly changed positions trying to find a way to get comfortable. Annalise would sit at the edge of her bed, gripping tightly to the mattress, as sharp little knives of pain ripped through her mid-section before collapsing back onto the bed, the tears flowing freely. Christine and Jean-Paul felt helpless as Annalise, her irritation growing with the pain, refused any touch or comfort.

A particularly sharp pain caused Annalise to stop breathing and Christine rose to her feet, bending over her child, reaching out to touch her daughter's cheek, a sigh of relief passing her lips as Annalise drew a deep breath.

"Make it stop," Annalise pleaded with her mother.

Christine stood and turned to her son. "I must fetch the doctor." She turned back to Annalise. "I will return in a moment my dear," she said and moved quickly from the room.

Jean-Paul moved closer to the bed, reaching out to take his sister's hand in his own.

"Why?" Annalise asked through her tears.

"I do not know," Jean-Paul told her with a shake of his head.

"You were supposed to know," Annalise told him. "You are my brother. You ought to have stopped him. You ought to have stopped me." She gasped, her grip tightening on the hand that held hers. Annalise closed her eyes and did not see the guilt and grief that passed over her brother's face at her words.

Jean-Paul swallowed back his emotions. "I ought to have," the whisper was nearly inaudible. "I am so sorry," he said more loudly as he reached out to brush the hair from his sister's face "You are burning up!" he exclaimed and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder to see his mother and the doctor behind him. Jean-Paul moved out of the way for them, going to the other side of the room to rest his head against the wardrobe, hiding his face so that no one would see his pain.

Dominic bent over Annalise, reaching out to touch her forehead. He shook his head at what he felt beneath his hand. He reached out to take a wrist to check for Annalise's pulse and found himself in a struggle with his patient.

"Do not touch me," Annalise managed as she opened her eyes, trying to take back her hand.

"Annalise, please," her mother tried.

"I hate you all," Annalise said as she tried to move to the other side of the bed. "Just go away."

"I will go and fetch Father," Jean-Paul said and quickly left the room before Christine could move to stop him.

Dominic kept hold of Annalise's wrist and felt what he feared. He let go of it and watched as his patient crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her hands and wrists beneath her arms. Dominic turned to face Christine. "The fever is now full blown," he said softly, "and her pulse is racing. I just wish I knew how strong a mixture of laudanum he fed her."

"How long can she go on like this?" Christine wondered as she turned a worried eye to her child.

"I wish I knew," Dominic said.

They both looked up at the sound of the door opening, Gustave standing there. "I saw Jean-Paul and said I would come to sit with you."

"Are you sure?" Christine wondered as her son moved to her side.

"I need to help," Gustave assured his mother.

"I must study my notes," Dominic told them and returned to his seat in the corner of the room, reaching for and opening the files he had left there the night before.

Gustave sat near his sister's bed as Christine quietly entered the bath. He gave Annalise a little smile. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he wondered.

"Why?" Annalise wondered back, her delicate features contorting into an angry frown that somewhat startled her brother.

"Because I love you and I am glad you are alive and home," Gustave replied.

"If you loved me, you would give me something to stop the pain," Annalise managed before another white-hot pain tore her in half.

Remembering the doctor's words from the night before - to give Annalise any drug would only prolong the withdrawal - Gustave shook his head sadly. "I wish that I could."

Christine approached them at that moment, a small bowl of water and a cloth in her hands.

"I do not want any help!" Annalise shouted in her hoarse voice and threw a pillow at her mother.

The pillow hit the bowl that Christine carried, splashing the water over her dress, sending it to fall upon the rug, the remaining water splashing over the edge of the bed linens and Gustave's pants. Christine laid a hand upon her youngest son's shoulder as he rose, before he could say anything. "It is all right," she said. "It is only water. I will go and change and return momentarily." She reached down to pick up the bowl on the floor, carrying it with her as she left the room.

Gustave turned his attention back to his sister. He was not in the mood to coddle her, doctor's words to the contrary. "What is wrong with you?"

"I cannot do this," Annalise told him as she broke down into tears. Annalise struggled to sit up as the sobs turned into coughs shaking her entire body, taking her breath away. "I cannot breathe," Annalise gasped as her arms stretched out, fingers looking for something to hold onto.

Gustave sat on the bed, instantly contrite, drawing her into his arms. Dominic was at their sides a second later. He took hold of Annalise's flailing hands in one of his own, taking her chin in his other hand. He caught her frightened, panicked look and held it.

"Annalise," Dominic said. "You must stop crying and listen to me." He watched as his patient struggled with her sobs, gasping for air. "I need you to breathe with me." Dominic exaggerated his own breathing, the pattern of in and out smooth and easy, deep and long.

Annalise stared into his eyes and heard his words, listening to the breath sounds the doctor made. She fought through the remembered feeling of fingers tightening about her throat, the surety of knowing Death was but a heartbeat away. She could feel her brother's chest against her back, the pattern of his breaths following those of the doctor. After a few moments, Annalise's breathing eased; her sharp gasps fading into deep breathes that evened out allowing her muscles to relax.

"That's good," Dominic told her as he let go of her hands. "That is very good." He smiled at her and returned to his notes.

"Please do not scare me like that," Gustave said as felt his sister relax in his arms.

Annalise turned around in her brother's arms so that she could look at him. "I am so sorry," she said as the tearscontinued to flow. "What have I done?"

"Nothing," Gustave told her with a shake of his head. "None of this is your fault."

"It is all my fault," Annalise replied and cried out as the pain began again.

Gustave refused to let his sister go and held onto her, ignoring the pain in his chest as Annalise wrapped her arms tightly about his neck. That was how their mother found them when she returned some twenty minutes later, wrapped in each other's arms, Annalise crying softly, Gustave whispering inaudible words to her. Christine stood silently in the doorway, burning the sight into her memory, praying it would not be one of the last things she would remember about her only daughter.

Gustave had heard the opening of the door and turned his head. The movement caused Annalise to follow his look and she saw her mother smiling at her. Annalise took her arms from about her brother's neck and held them out to her mother.

"Maman," she cried.

Christine crossed the room to take her daughter in her arms. Gustave gently eased himself from the bed to sit in one of the chairs. He bit the inside of his lip as the dull ache in his chest radiated outwards not wishing to distract from the attention his sister needed.

"I am sorry," Annalise told her mother. "I do not know what is happening to me."

"We shall get through this," Christine whispered as she held her child close. "All of us will find the strength to get you through this." She drew back and gave her daughter a small smile. "Your father has someone to see you." Christine turned her attention to the door. "Raoul."

Raoul's tall frame filled the doorway and he moved aside to allow Andrew to enter.

"Annalise," Andrew said as he entered the room.

Christine stood, allowing Andrew to take her place, watching as he drew Annalise into his arms. She moved to stand next to her husband, reaching out for his hand, only to find Raoul had placed both hands into his pockets. Christine raised a questioning face to her husband.

"I have asked Andrew and Katherine to stay the next few days," Raoul told her softly. "I think it would be best if they were here."

"I agree," Christine replied, her hand going to his arm. "What are you not telling me? Is there something I should know about?"

Raoul sighed heavily. "No," he lied for the first time in his married life.

Christine knew he was lying. "Raoul."

"Christine, please," he said as he stared deeply into the eyes of the woman he had loved since childhood, "let this be."

A loud gasp from Annalise caught their attention before Christine could say anything.

"Oh God," Annalise cried out.

"What is wrong?" Andrew wanted to know as Annalise pulled away from him, her hands gripping the front of his jacket.

"I can make this work," Annalise said, her eyes glazed and distant. "I promise. I will do whatever you want. I will crawl. I will beg. I will do anything you ask." A shaking hand reached up to palm Andrew's cheek. "Anything," she whispered desperately. "Just give me something to make the pain stop."

Her words chilled the hearts and souls of everyone in the room.

"Annalise, it is Andrew." A puzzled expression on his face as he replied. Andrew looked at Annalise and did not see the girl with whom he fallen in love and it frightened him. "Annalise," he said as he reached up for the hand against his face and drew it to his lips. "It's Andrew and I love you."

There was silence in the room; everyone watching as Annalise fought her way through the pain and confusion.

"Andrew?" Annalise finally whispered, her clear eyes focusing on his face, before they rolled up into her head and she collapsed against him.