Laszlo knew that both he and John must have looked dishevelled on the train journey home. They had both agreed to take a cab together back to their respective residences. Laszlo was still limping, struggling to walk on his leg after the accident that they had been involved in. Looking out of the window, Laszlo thought about what would be waiting for him at home. He hoped that Elizabeth was still awake. He longed for her to still be alert enough just to spend some time with him. He needed her at that moment in time after the events of the day.

"Laszlo, I believe this is you," John commented as the carriage stopped and Laszlo looked to the house. He nodded, but then he noticed something peculiar. His brows arched on his forehead and John noted how he was looking over to the house and his gaze followed his. "What is it?"

"The door," Laszlo said. "Why is the door wide open?"

"I…I do not know," John said.

Laszlo climbed from the cab and stumbled forwards, putting more weight on his cane than he cared to. John followed, asking the driver to stay where he was. He wasn't going to leave Laszlo to go in there alone after the events of the day, both of them clearly on edge. Laszlo climbed the stairs towards the house, his breathing deep and coming out in pants before he peered into the entrance hall.

And that was when he saw them.

"No," Laszlo shook his head firmly and he ran into the hall, ignoring the pain in his leg as he rushed towards the two women on the floor, their bodies sprawled out. "John! We need help!"

"My God," John spoke and he did as Laszlo had commanded him, reaching for the phone and calling for a medic as Laszlo came to the two women and saw Charlotte knelt by Elizabeth's side, shaking her firmly. The little girl was sobbing openly, her noises echoing through the tiled hallway and Laszlo glanced between Mary and Elizabeth, kneeling between both of them. His hand shook as he picked up Elizabeth's wrist and his thumb ran over her pulse point.

"She has a pulse…" he breathed out and noted the blood pooled by her head and then looked to Mary, seeing that blood was always seeping from her head and he wondered if both of them were bleeding or if the blood only came from one of them. He continued to shake, his hand moving over to Mary and he picked up her wrist. But he could not feel anything.

"No…Mary…" Laszlo said, leaning over her and moving his fingers to her neck, needing to be certain about what he was seeing. But he could not feel a pulse. "Mary…please…"

"A medic is on the way," John said to Laszlo, hanging the phone up. "Are they…" he trailed off, not certain on what more he could say or what he was asking.

"She has no pulse," Laszlo said, his throat clenching as Charlotte remained by Elizabeth's side, clinging onto her. "Mary…she has no pulse," Laszlo clarified.

"My God," John whispered and he knelt down next to Mary, his own hand moving to check and he looked down at her. Her hair was fanned around her head, blood clinging to it and her eyes closed, lips parted and face pale. Moving the back of his hand over her open mouth, he felt no breath and he saw no rise of her chest. John glanced across to Elizabeth as he noted Laszlo take hold of her hand, squeezing it in his grip and looking down onto her.

"Elizabeth…come on…" he urged from her. "Please…Elizabeth…"

"Where are Cyrus and Stevie?" John suddenly asked.

"I don't know," Laszlo whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks and staining his skin.

"Stay with her," John demanded from Laszlo. "I will go and find them."

Laszlo nodded his head and looked to Elizabeth once more, but his gaze continued to go to Mary as well. What had happened here? What had happened to the two women? He looked over Mary and his chest ached at the sight of the young woman he had known since she was a child. He had taken her in. He had tried to give her a home and help her. And now she was dead. She was dead and it was, no doubt, because of him. He let out a guttural sob and bowed his head, whispering as he looked to Elizabeth once more, seeing the soft rise and fall of her chest.

"Wake up, Elizabeth," he whispered. "I need you…please…wake up."

…

Mary had been pronounced dead on the scene. Elizabeth had a head injury and had been taken to hospital. She was laid in bed, sleeping soundly and she looked so peaceful. Laszlo hadn't moved from her side since she had been admitted. He had been informed that she was in a coma and the extent of her head injuries was unknown. Apparently, the best-case scenario would be for her to wake up over the next couple of weeks. Laszlo didn't know how he would be able to cope over the next few weeks. How could he function and not know what was going to happen to her?

And then there was Mary. Laszlo would feel a pain in his chest whenever he thought about what had happened to her. He didn't know if he could cope with this. He didn't know if he could move on if anything happened to Elizabeth too. Sitting on the chair next to her bed, he looked at the bandage wrapped around her skull, the white cotton contrasting against her hair. She had a white nightgown on and a quilt that was pulled up to her chest.

"Doctor Kreizler."

Turning to the door, Laszlo saw Cyrus stood there, Stevie in front of him and Charlotte next to him. The little girl's eyes moved over to Elizabeth in the bed and Laszlo could see that she was crying. She had silent tears falling down her cheeks and Stevie moved a hand to her shoulder, holding it gently and trying to comfort her.

"Cyrus," Laszlo spoke, moving to his feet. "Stevie…Charlotte…what're you doing here?"

"Mr Moore told us that you were here," Cyrus said. "He told us about Mary…"

Stevie inhaled a sharp breath and moved his free hand to wipe his eyes, drying them before tears could slip down onto his cheeks. Laszlo nodded sadly and Charlotte shifted from one foot to another, her hands playing with the hem of her grey dress and her blonde curls dancing around her shoulders as she moved her head from side to side.

"I'm sorry," was all that Laszlo could say to them. He didn't know what more he could say and he didn't know how they couldn't blame him. He blamed himself. It was this case that had killed Mary. It was this case that had caused Elizabeth to find herself laid in a hospital bed right now.

"You've got nothing to apologise for," Cyrus promised him.

"I do," Laszlo replied. "Whatever happened…whoever has done this…"

"It was Connor," Stevie spoke and Laszlo looked over him, his gaze intense and he felt his pulse began to race. Connor. He was the one who had come to the house. He was the one who had forced his way inside and had done this. "He was in the house looking for you. Him and another man."

"They were there?" Laszlo checked. "They did this?"

"I think his name was Doyle," Cyrus added on.

"What is happening?" Laszlo asked. "Have they been found?"

"The Isaacson's have found Doyle, but there has been no news on Connor yet," Cyrus said to him.

Nodding his head, Laszlo could do no more. He turned to sit back down on the chair by the bed. He said nothing, his hand moving back to Elizabeth's and holding onto it. Speaking, he kept his tone low and tried to stop his voice from shaking. "You should go home," he said to them. "I imagine you need to rest."

"Doctor," Cyrus said to him. "You need rest too-"

"-No, I don't," Laszlo interrupted. "Please, go home."

Cyrus nodded his head at that. He moved to take hold of Stevie's shoulder. But Charlotte refused to go home. She moved forwards and over towards the bed. She stood by Laszlo's chair and looked down onto Elizabeth. The alienist looked up and over to the little girl and his eyes roamed over her features. She didn't look at him. She had never entirely been open with him, not like she was with Elizabeth. But Laszlo knew what she wanted. She didn't want to go. She was attached to Elizabeth. She cared very deeply for her.

"Charlotte, darling," Cyrus called out to the little girl, but Laszlo shook his head and looked back over to him and Stevie.

"It is fine," he promised them. "She can stay here with me."

Cyrus nodded at him and Laszlo heard the two of them leave, their footsteps moving away. Laszlo moved to his feet and let go of Elizabeth's hand. He moved around the room as the girl remained rooted to the spot. Laszlo limped to the corner and took hold of the chair that sat there. He moved it over to the bedside and gestured to it.

"Sit down, Charlotte," he encouraged the little girl who moved to do as he had urged her.

Perching on the side of the chair, she sat down. Her feet dangled off the ground and Laszlo resumed his own seat. Leaning back in it, he watched the little girl take hold of Elizabeth's arm. Looking over her, Laszlo spoke in a low voice, doing his best to keep his tone even and soft for her.

"I know that you were there that night," he said to her. "I know that you saw what happened to her…and I know…I know that it must have been scary."

Charlotte slowly turned her gaze over to him, looking him in the eye and he felt his mouth dry out. She had seen what had happened. How much trauma had this little girl seen in her life? How much more could she cope with? She had seen her parents murdered. Her aunt had abandoned her. And now, the one woman who had promised never to leave her was laid in a hospital bed.

"But you need to know that Elizabeth cares very deeply for you," Laszlo said to Charlotte. "And…I…well…I know that I am not Elizabeth. But I will look out for you too, Charlotte."

She said nothing to him and her gaze moved back to Elizabeth instead. Laszlo nodded his head once. He wanted to believe that Elizabeth would wake up. He longed to believe that she would be fine and she would awaken. But, looking to the cross above her bed, Laszlo knew better than to have too much optimism and faith. When had he ever been able to have anything that he wanted? He sometimes felt that he was plagued. He was plagued not to be happy or live a normal life. But he wanted that. He longed for it more than anyone could possibly know.

The two of them remained silent, Laszlo knowing that time was passing by. But it was too slow for his liking. He wanted Elizabeth to wake up. He wanted these few weeks to pass by so that he knew where he stood. As far as he was concerned, the case was finished. It was over. Mary had died because of it. Elizabeth was here because of it. He was no longer part of it. He would no longer involve himself.

He didn't know how long had passed by before he turned to see Charlotte sleeping. She had sat back in the chair, her legs curled underneath her body and her head tilted back. Moving to his feet, Laszlo shrugged out of the suit coat he wore. He gently moved it so that he had draped it over Charlotte, giving her some warmth considering she wore just her grey dress. As he made sure the coat was secure over her frame, he saw Marcus Isaacson stood in the doorway.

Laszlo nodded to him and moved from the room, hands going into the pockets of his trousers as he looked to the young man who was glancing over his shoulder onto Elizabeth. "Has there been any news?" he wondered from Laszlo.

"She is in a coma," Laszlo said, moving by him and down the corridor, not wanting to wake Charlotte as she slept. Marcus took one final look at Elizabeth before following the doctor. "If she wakes up…we will know…in the next few weeks…"

"I'm sorry, Doctor Kreizler," Marcus commented, moving forwards and down the corridor with him. "For Elizabeth…and Mary too."

Laszlo could only nod. "Is there a reason why you're here, Detective?"

"Yes," Marcus said and coughed to clear his throat as a nurse passed them by in the corridor. He let her go, tilting his head and tipping his hat before continuing. "I wanted to come and see how she was, but I also wanted to come and tell you…we spoke with Doyle."

"I see," Laszlo commented.

"He hasn't admitted anything and unfortunately no one saw what happened to Mary and Elizabeth…Cyrus and Stevie were unconscious at the time and Charlotte…well…the little girl won't talk and if she did then Doyle would only discredit her as he tried to do to Cyrus and Stevie. The issue is that we both know corruption in the police force is rife."

Laszlo nodded, looking to the ground and sniffing. "And you are trying to tell me that there will be no justice for Mary's death?"

"Roosevelt knows," Marcus said. "He knows that the tale Doyle and Connor spun was bullshit, but he doesn't know what more he can do."

"What did they say?" Laszlo questioned from Marcus.

He looked up and the young man avoided his gaze. It was then when Laszlo knew that something wasn't quite right. There was something wrong. He bit down on his tongue for a moment before shaking his head and feeling his fingers clench into a fist by his side.

"You don't need to know that, Doctor."

"I want to," Laszlo responded. "Detective, tell me."

Marcus let out a deep breath. "He said how Elizabeth…she had been the one to invite them in," he said. "Doyle said that she had taken Connor upstairs…said that she knew the rumours about her…that she wasn't courting you and that you-"

"-I understand," Laszlo interrupted, teeth gritting together in frustration and disgust. How could they even say that?

"Claimed that Mary attacked Connor because she was deranged…didn't like the idea of Elizabeth taking another man to your bed. He claimed it was self-defence and Elizabeth had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And that is it?" Laszlo asked. "There is nothing else that can be done?"

"No, but I swear that I will do everything I can to bring them to justice for this, Doctor." Marcus said, remembering how it had felt to punch Doyle when he had spoke about Elizabeth, accusing her of being nothing but a common harlot. He could still feel his knuckles tingling from the hit, but he didn't regret it. How could he?

Laszlo only nodded. He knew that Marcus would be unable to do anything. There was nothing for him to do. He was just one man in a corrupt institution.

"Can I see her?" Marcus asked from Laszlo.

"She is sleeping," Laszlo responded.

"I know," Marcus said. "I just want to see her…please?"

Laszlo relented, turning on his heel and walking back to her room. He stayed back in the corner while Marcus moved towards her bedside. He glanced down to Charlotte as she slept for a moment before diverting his attention back to Elizabeth. He moved a hand out and brushed it down her hair before letting his fingers rest on her cheek. Bending down, he kissed her on the forehead gently, not knowing if he had overstepped the mark, but failing to care. He liked the woman. He had affection towards her. While it had been romantic at the start, he now saw her as someone he felt he could be friends with.

Standing up straight again, Marcus walked by Laszlo and gave his shoulder a squeeze before passing him by and heading to the door. Laszlo returned to the chair by her bedside and sat down once again, resuming his usual position and waiting for Elizabeth to wake up.

…

Laszlo knew that Elizabeth would have wanted to go to Mary's funeral, but there was no inclination of when she would wake up. And so Laszlo had gone to the funeral, leaving her bedside for the first time in two days. Charlotte had gone with him after Sara had come for the little girl and insisted she come back home with her for rest and to change. Laszlo had encouraged her to go, promising her that Elizabeth would wait for her to come back.

The next time he had seen her had been at the funeral, holding onto Sara's hand and walking by her side. The rain was coming down in droves, but no one seemed to care. Laszlo stood at one end of Mary's grave, Cyrus and Stevie at the other end. John stood by Laszlo's side, Sara next to him. Charlotte moved from Sara's grip and she wondered where she was going. She came to stand next to Laszlo and he looked down to her for a moment, trying to gage her reaction before he reached his hand out towards her.

She took hold of it, her small fingers slipping into his large palm. Laszlo closed his own fingers around hers, letting out a shaky breath as she turned to look at the grave. Her hair hung in clumps down her face; the black dress Sara had bought her also getting wet in the rain. John exchanged a look with Sara, the two of them shrugging at each other over what they were seeing between Laszlo and Charlotte.

They stood where they were as John read out a poem as Mary's coffin was lowered into the ground.

"I am so very sorry," Sara spoke and Laszlo kept his eyes on the coffin. He didn't look to Sara, knowing that the two of them still had unfinished conversations to hold. But he didn't think that he could look anywhere else, almost as though he thought that keeping his gaze on the coffin meant that Mary wasn't gone just yet.

"My deepest condolences," Roosevelt also chimed in. "And I know that you are going through a difficult time, Laszlo, but you are not alone. We are here for you."

"Thank you," Laszlo said, but he kept his gaze focused on the coffin still.

Roosevelt left him alone as the rain continued to pour and John watched his friend for what seemed like an age before he knew that he had to do something. He had to say something to him. He moved around the grave and stood by Laszlo's side once more.

"Laszlo…you should go home," he urged from him. "You cannot stay here forever."

"It is over, John," Laszlo said to him. "The investigation is over."

"Take a few days-"

"-No," Laszlo interrupted, knowing that John was about to try and talk him out of doing something impulsive. But Laszlo had thought about this. He had made his decision. "Mary died because of me. Elizabeth is in hospital because of me. I cannot keep going."

"This is not your fault, Laszlo."

"Then whose is it?" Laszlo questioned from him, looking him in the eye.

John didn't respond, his throat clenching and a feeling of grief sweeping hold of him. Laszlo turned his intense gaze away from John and onto the bouquet of flowers on the floor by his feet. Daisies and lilies. They were always the flowers in the vases around his house. He picked them up and moved to the grave, still holding Charlotte's hand. Dropping the flowers onto the grave, he felt a tear fall down his cheek before he whispered.

"Forgive me, Mary."

Stepping back, he glanced down to Charlotte who peered up to him. He moved a hand to her cheek and pushed away a clump of hair that was stuck to her skin. It made no difference as it returned seconds later. The two of them were completely drenched from the rain.

"Come on," Laszlo said to the small girl. "Let's go home."

Charlotte nodded and Laszlo turned on his heel. John watched him walk away, the little girl by his side and still clinging onto his hand and he wondered just what was going through Laszlo's mind.

…

Elizabeth had been sent home, the doctor claiming that she should be able to rest there. A doctor would come and visit her daily to check on her progress. There had been signs of some recovery. Her finger had twitched and her eyes had opened a couple of times, but that had been it. Laszlo had prepared his own room for her to rest in. He hardly slept as it was. Instead, he dragged the chair from the corner of his room to the side of the bed and slept there besides her.

Charlotte would come into the room and would often crawl onto the bed next to Elizabeth. Time seemed immaterial to Laszlo. He didn't care for it nor did he count the days that passed. All he wanted was for her to wake up and talk to him, let him know that she was still there for him. His dear Elizabeth was all he had.

"Can you even hear me, my darling Elizabeth?" Laszlo wondered one evening after he had spent the day avoiding calls from John. He moved his hand up to brush her hair softly, his fingers combing it and tangling into it. He doubted that he would ever get tired of this, of holding her close, of touching her. "Because I so want you to hear me. I want you to wake up and come back to me because we have not had enough time together…not as we should…ever since I met you…I have adored you…and I almost wish that I had told you how I felt sooner rather than later, but I had been too nervous. I had been apprehensive that it would be wrong, that our relationship had been wrong…but perhaps you were right. Perhaps the heart is the thing that dictates how we feel because this ache I feel…this pain I feel looking at you right now…it is coming from my chest. It starts there and it spreads all over. Every part of me is in pain, Elizabeth, and I fear that the only thing that will take it away is you coming back to me. Come back to me, please."

He finished off, kissing her on the forehead before he heard the door to his room creak open. Turning his head over his shoulder, he looked over to see Charlotte walking. She was dressed in her nightgown and slippers, her hands gripping the doorknob. Laszlo sat up straight and peered over to her.

"Can you not sleep?" he questioned.

She shook her head.

"Nor can I," he confirmed to her. "Do you want to stay here?"

She nodded.

"Alright then," Laszlo muttered and she closed the door behind her and wandered further into the bedroom. She padded to stand next to his chair and she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I have been thinking," Laszlo admitted to Charlotte, uncertain how the little girl would respond to what he was going to say to her. "You have not been back to the Institute for over two weeks now and I know that you were not happy there. And…if you do not wish to go back…well…you may stay here," Laszlo said to her and her eyes widened as she looked to him.

He had thought about this for a long time. If Elizabeth woke up then he knew the discussion they would have. He was well aware that she cared too much for the girl to leave her alone. And if Elizabeth didn't wake up then Laszlo had no intention of abandoning Charlotte. It was almost as though Charlotte and Laszlo were connected now. They had that bond because of their love for the same woman.

"Of course, if you do not wish to stay here then I can help you with whatever-"

He had no chance to finish. The little girl was shaking her head and had stood up. She didn't even think as she wrapped her arms around his neck and Laszlo confessed that he was shocked at the sudden movement, but he did not mind it. He wrapped his one good arm around her, holding onto her as she let her cheek rest against his shoulder and his own cheek moved to sit on the top of her curly blonde hair.

"I will take that as a yes," Laszlo whispered.

…

Laszlo had gone through a range of emotions. He had found himself crying one moment and then full of rage the next. Charlotte had been silent, as usual, and almost stoic. She had the usual routine and Laszlo had done his best to look out for her, but he was losing himself too. He was losing himself and his mind wasn't entirely clear. His every moment was consumed with thoughts of Elizabeth.

Sitting in the bedroom, Laszlo had a hand underneath his chin, balled into a fist. His eyes had been closing and Charlotte was sat on his lap, a place where she had made herself at home over the past few weeks. The two of them had grown closer in their sorrow, Laszlo often reading to her in the evening until she dozed off in his grip. He never complained when his lap went numb, nor did he complain when she woke up and left him alone.

"Doctor Kreizler."

Looking to the door, Laszlo saw Cyrus stood there, peering over to him. He took a moment to compose himself, waking up after having almost fallen asleep. Blinking profusely, he wondered what time it was. It surely had to be early.

"Apologies for waking you," Cyrus said to him, "but Miss Howard is here to see you."

"Now?"

"Yes, Doctor," Cyrus said.

"Tell her I shall be down momentarily," Laszlo said.

Gently, he lifted his hand and rested it on Charlotte's arm. He woke her and told her that he had to go and speak with Sara. She nodded, slipping down from his lap and taking his seat once he had stood up. Laszlo ran a hand down her hair before he moved to the door. He closed it quietly and moved down the staircase and towards the parlour. He saw Sara sat on the couch, perching on the edge of it, almost like she expected to make a quick escape.

"I am sorry for keeping you, Miss Howard," Laszlo said and she could hear how his voice was hoarse, almost as though he had spent hours crying and had no voice left. He moved further into the room and sat down on the edge of the armchair.

"You did not keep me at all," Sara responded. "Has there been any news?"

"Some signs," Laszlo admitted to her. "She has moved her hand…blinked…but nothing more."

"That is a good sign, is it not?" Sara asked from him, her fingers folding together in her lap. "If she is responding?"

"I can only hope so," Laszlo replied and lowered his gaze to the floor, leaning forwards at the waist. "I have made it my life's work to study the human mind, but now I feel that my own mind is failing me. I've cause to hate God for what he has done to Mary…for what he has done to my Elizabeth…but I have cause to believe in him. I beg for him to bring her back to me, for her to wake up."

Sara drank in Laszlo's face for a moment. His eyes were glazed over and his beard had grown considerably. His hair hung messily on the top of his head and she could see that his cheeks were red. His top few buttons of his shirt were undone and his waistcoat was askew on his body. His trousers also looked creased. He looked nothing like the put together doctor she had first met.

He finally picked his head up and looked to her, lips tight together as though he was trying to stop himself from crying to her. "Forgive me," he urged from her, needing her to do that before they spoke any further.

She sat up straight and spoke softly. "Forgive me too if I pried into matters that were not my concern," she said to him. "I only did it out of regard for you."

Laszlo nodded and looked down again before moving to his feet from the chair. He walked over to the mantelpiece and knew that he owed Sara this much. Elizabeth would encourage him to tell her. "My father had two sides," he said, looking at the mirror above the mantelpiece. "One, loving, and the other brutal. The two often co-existed and it was something as trivial as putting me to bed…when we were fighting…laughing…I think it was tug of war," Laszlo gathered his breath. "And I don't remember if I was drunk or if I said something that offended him, but he must have put my arm behind my back." Laszlo sniffed and stifled a sob, looking down and feeling his throat clench before he spoke again, voice pained. "In small children, fractures can often…not heal…"

Laszlo continued to try and gather his breath, his emotions getting the better of him as tears fell from his cheek and to the floor. He kept his back to Sara, but he heard her stand up and take a few steps towards him.

"My father often kept a great deal from me," she said to him. He turned around hesitantly and looked to see that her eyes were also wet. "That's why I'm inquisitive, I suppose."

His forehead creased as she continued to talk.

"As a child, I was unaware of my father's melancholia," she admitted to him. "But it became so overwhelming that he tried to take his own life. I was the one who found him," she said, taking a sharp breath. "At the last moment, he'd lost his courage and tried to pull the gun from his mouth…He was in terrible pain and half his face…" she trailed off, unable to recall it. "He took my hand and we held the gun together," Sara said and she cried softly.

"I'm sorry, Sara," Laszlo said.

"I've learned from you that we can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives or accept it and use the memory of our pain to help others," Sara said to him.

"I'm not entirely sure that choice is in our hands," Laszlo said to her.

"I disagree," she replied and the two of them remained where they were, simply staring at each other. "And I know that you blame yourself for what happened to Mary…to Elizabeth…but it was not your fault. You were doing the right thing and trying to help."

"How can you say that?" Laszlo asked from her.

"Because it is the truth," Sara responded. "And they would not blame you either."

Laszlo shook his head, unable to believe that. He wanted to. He truthfully wanted to believe it. But the guilt was too much for him. He went to sit back down on the chair and Sara moved over to the couch again, perching on the edge of it.

"I…this isn't the first time I've failed to protect her," Laszlo said to Sara. "I know that she told you what happened to her. I know that you know what her husband did to her…what happened to her baby."

"I know," Sara confirmed with a nod of her head.

"There was this one time when she was in hospital after her husband had hurt her," Laszlo spoke. "I went to her and I saw what had done to her, how he had beaten her. I stayed by her side until she fell to sleep and just watched her, longing for things to have been different. I wished that I had done something…persuaded her to leave her husband before things ended up how they did…and when he had died. When he was gone, I swore that nothing would ever hurt her again. I suppose that is why I am so protective over her and try to keep her away from the things we see. But I couldn't protect her. I broke my promise."

"You weren't to know that this would happen," Sara said to him. "This is on Connor and Doyle, not you."

"But I led them here," Laszlo said to her.

Before she could reply, she heard the sound of footsteps running down stairs. Laszlo moved to his feet and looked into the entrance hall, seeing Charlotte running towards him, her cheeks puffed out and her face scrunched up. Her nightgown billowed behind her as she reached him and grabbed hold of his hand.

"Charlotte, what is it?" he asked from her, but he knew she would not reply. "Is it Elizabeth?"

She nodded her head.

Laszlo followed her up the stairs, Sara moving and standing at the bottom of them and wondering what was going on. Laszlo rushed into the room and Charlotte rushed over to the bed, still clinging onto Laszlo's hand. The doctor stumbled forwards, eyes set on the woman in the bed before he saw her. But she looked different to when he had last left her. Her eyes were open and her lips were turned upwards as she looked to Laszlo.

"Laszlo," she whispered his name.

Falling to his knees by the bedside, Laszlo felt the tears spill from his eyes as he reached his hand up, running his fingers along her cheek as she turned her head to the side, her gaze meeting his. He sobbed at the sight of her and she lifted a hand up to take hold of his on her face, squeezing his fingers tightly.

"Elizabeth," he sobbed her name. "I thought that you…you'd…"

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked from him and he moved their hands, kissing the back of hers and keeping it against his lips as he spoke.

"You've been unconscious for weeks," he whispered to her. "We didn't know if you would wake up. We didn't know what would happen."

"Weeks?" she questioned from him.

"Yes, my dear," he replied.

"I…I don't remember what happened," Elizabeth said and he saw her frown, almost as though she was trying. "I…Mary was there…where is she? What happened?"

"Mary…" Laszlo choked her name out and he shook his head. He didn't want to cause any stress. He didn't want to overwhelm her, but he could tell that she was able to read him. She was looking at him and already her eyes were watering and she was shaking her head.

"No," she said firmly. "Not Mary…Laszlo…"

"Shhh," Laszlo encouraged from her, unceremoniously pushing himself to his feet and sitting on the edge of the bed, moving to help her sit up. "Hush…Elizabeth…I know…I know…my dear…"

He moved so that he had her resting against his side, his arm going around her and holding her tightly. She let a hand move to rest against his chest as her eyes closed and she cried, Charlotte standing by the side of the bed. Laszlo managed to lift his bad arm upwards towards her enough to take hold of her hand, squeezing it and letting her know that everything was alright.

"Mary…she can't…Laszlo…" Elizabeth said incoherently, shaking her head against him and he bent his head, kissing the top of hers and keeping his lips there for a few moments.

"I know," Laszlo said. "I am sorry, Elizabeth."

"She was protecting us," Elizabeth said, peering to glance up to him, her eyes moving over his features. "She was trying to protect us from him…Connor…he was the one who was here. He did this to her."

"I know," Laszlo said to her.

"So…he…he's…the police have arrested him?"

Laszlo was silent and Elizabeth noted him look away from her. She shook her head.

"He's got away with it?" Elizabeth questioned from Laszlo.

"I know that it is unjust, my darling Elizabeth," Laszlo promised her. "And I know that you are angry and upset and feeling so many different emotions, but I need you to try and remain calm. You need to do that…please…you cannot exert yourself."

"But this-"

"-I know," Laszlo interrupted her, looking down to her and nodding his head. "I understand, Elizabeth, but please…I need to call for the doctor to come and check on you. You need rest."

Elizabeth did not argue with him. Instead, he moved his fingers to wipe away the tears from her eyes and kiss her forehead. He let his lips remain there for a few moments, feeling Elizabeth lean against him once more and he closed his eyes, still holding Charlotte's hand as the young girl reached her free hand outwards and took hold of Elizabeth's hand, holding onto it tightly. Elizabeth looked to her and smiled sadly through her tears.

Sara had dared to climb the stairs after hearing the commotion and was stood in the doorway, looking at the three of them around the bed. Laszlo had encouraged Charlotte to sit in front of him, his hand on the small of her back as Elizabeth lifted a hand to stroke the little girl's cheek and Laszlo kept his arm around Elizabeth. Sara's lips turned upwards at the sight of them and she backed away, giving them their privacy for the time being.

…

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your comments and thoughts - would love to know what you think/anything you want to see going forwards!