Hello, everyone! Thank you for all the sweet, inspiring reviews. This next chapter takes place the same day, shortly after their conversation in the courtyard. I hope you like where it goes—I always wondered if Mrs. Hughes wouldn't have tried some sort of subtle meddling to try and help our favorite couple out. So here's what I came up with. From my general outline, this story should be ending in a few chapters, so are there any other stories you'd like to see from me? Back to the good old days, S1 and S2, or modern? I'd love to keep writing for you if you want to read it.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, no, I own nothing.

Mrs. Hughes knew very well she was meddling where she wasn't wanted. Well, at least on Anna's part. Mr. Bates, even with his pride that rivaled Mr. Carson's, would likely go door to door in the village asking for answers if he thought someone would tell him how to bring Anna back to herself.

She hadn't gotten a good look at Anna's room the night she'd gone in to wake her from her nightmare, but she was counting on Anna having some memento of her husband, a photograph or maybe a letter. Anything to prove he was still very much a part of her heart.

Mrs. Hughes found Mr. Bates in his wife's place in the bootroom, attacking a gleaming pair of shoes.

"Mr. Bates, might I ask you a favor?"

"Of course, Mrs. Hughes."

"I can't seem to find Anna, but I believe she took some of her Ladyship's mending up to her room last night to finish before bed and I thought I'd finish it off. Would you mind running upstairs and taking a look for me? I have to go calm down Mr. Carson." She was positively sure he could see the lies piling up at her feet, but it didn't matter. He jumped at the chance.

"Yes, I'll go right now."

"I appreciate it."

Mr. Bates went as quickly up the stairs as his leg would allow. He wanted time to himself in Anna's room, to see if he could make sense of this mess. How had they gotten to snooping through each other's things?

He opened the door slowly, hoping she wouldn't be up here for some reason. Mr. Bates had imagined so many times what it would be like to open the door to the women's corridor and come to Anna, spend the evening with her. He had tried to just think of them talking—he had had no right to think of anything else at the time, but his mind often wandered. But now they had a whole home to themselves and she had run away.

The first thing he saw was his photo on her nightstand. He had hurt so much, when she left the cottage and he returned upstairs to find their wedding photo still on her nightstand. But she'd kept this since—since prison. He'd given it to her their wedding day, before she'd surprised him with a trip to the photographer's. A piece of him should they be separated.

The mending was a distant memory. He slumped onto the bed, running his hands over where she now slept. Trying to pull any fibers of her out of the thin blanket.

His eyes combed the room. The mirror, the window, the wash basin. All like any servant's room. Her nightgown draped over the chair in the corner. Her nightgown and his nightshirt…

Mr. Bates moved off the bed to the desk, and fingered the nightshirt. He'd wondered if he'd been clumsy enough to lose one, but that wasn't like him, and then he'd wondered if she'd thrown it in with her things by mistake.

He brought it to his nose, and the smell of her skin hit him like a slap in the face. It hadn't been a mistake. Whatever it was, it wasn't that. She'd brought this with her and she'd worn it.

His head ached from everything he'd seen. Thank God, she still loved him. But she ran from him and was cloistered up in this room, suffering, and he could do nothing. Their love was twisting, falling—

"John?" Anna was standing in front of him, just barely inside the room. Her eyes were shuttered like they had been for weeks now, but he could traces of anger and—his heart trembled—fear, gleaming in her eyes. "What are you doing up here?!"

-Sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger :)