It was an early January morning when Arthur tapped his feet on the plush carpeted floor of the apartment lobby, still waiting, then pulled out his phone to check the time. It had been a half an hour. Gwen was never late to meet him. Finally, he jumped up, and jogged up the three flights of stairs, which he'd found was actually faster than using their rather dysfunctional elevator system. He was about to knock on her door when he ran straight into her. "Oww..." She was on the phone, and he blinked. It was unusual that she should talk and walk at the same time, yet it was more unusual that he could have sworn he recognized the voice on the other line.

Gwen covered the speaker of the phone, "Sorry, I'm late." She whispered, "Just...give me a minute." She turned her attention back to the person on the phone, "Yeah, he just came in...I'll talk to you later, I promise. Thank you so much, again. Alright, g'bye." She hung up the cellphone, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Hey love."

"Hey," Arthur said, more than a bit baffled. He had to be wrong that she was talking to his mother. But that was her voice, and he could have known it anywhere. "Um...who were you talking to?"

"You're mum." Gwen replied, a bright smile on her face. "Such a lovely woman, too. Very kind."

Arthur could only assume he'd heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

"I said I was talking to your mum." Gwen replied, with a soft shrug, turning the cell phone off and placing it in her shouldered purse.

"Okay." Arthur blinked, trying not to sound a bit rejected. His mother hadn't called him once in the years that he'd been away from home. Even after everything had been getting better between her and his dad, finally, they still hadn't really seen eye to eye. His father and mother were living together, and he didn't even get a phone call? It didn't seem too wrong to feel a bit jealous.

"Don't worry." Gwen tried to reassure him gently, "I called her. I didn't want us to get married and you to be completely outcast from your family so...I called her."

"I...see." His soft frown was hidden in a glance that looked away. "Glad you enjoyed it, Gwen." Arthur held open the door to the building and then the car, so that they could get off on their dinner date.

"Arthur, please don't act like that." She sighed. "I did this for you."

"We won't fit in with my family, Gwen." He finally said, after a few moments where the only sounds you could hear where that of the car rolling. "Why don't we move to London? Start out own family. Far, far away."

Gwen pulled up her feet in the car, sitting cross-legged. "I don't understand why you won't try and work things out." She said. She held up a hand to stop him from protesting, "I know that you guys have been through some horrible, bumpy stuff, but they're your family, Arthur."

"Maybe because when I went through it, not a single one of them, especially her, even thought about being there for me. Or giving me a hug. All they did was critise the choices that got me there."

Arthur said; his voice was spread thin. "Gabby was more than a bad choice, Gwen. She was three wonderful years of my life. And now, with the situation for everyone else looking up, I still don't get anything out of her."

"Arthur everyone goes through these things in their lives." Gwen said, sounding almost impatient, "But if you don't reach out and repair that, you're never going to, and you will regret it for the rest of your life."

"And what are you saying?" He shot back. "That I should just stop, and drop every harsh word my mother ever said to me about the girl I genuinely cared about?" He couldn't say loved. She was there. Arthur loved Gwen immensely, but the hurt from Gabriella's death wasn't something he felt his family could just throw at him to take care of alone.

"No, I'm saying that you should try and get over it because if you don't, she'll be gone and you will regret the fact that you never repaired that relationship!" Gwen snapped back, dangerously close to tears. She turned her head away. She wouldn't let him see her cry.

Arthur knew he should shut his mouth. But he didn't. "You don't know my family! They've almost always hated one another. I'd rather be an outcast than live through one more family fight!" His voice escalated, and he knew it was far too loud for the close quarters they were in. "I can't do it again. They don't love me. I am the black sheep of the family." Little did he know how very blind he was being.

"At least you have a whole family!" Gwen cried her voice cracking. So she'd said it. She buried her head in her hands, covering her face from view. Why had she had to say it?

Arthur didn't reply, but his mouth knit tightly, and he tapped on the driver's shoulder. "Take us home."

Gwen couldn't control her crying, but she kept her hands covering her face, turned away from him.

Arthur pretended he couldn't hear her, but every sob tore his heart out.

As soon as the car stopped in front of the building, Gwen was out, practically running to the door. She was inside before Arthur could get out of the car.

Arthur stayed in the car for a few moments, and covered his eyes.

"Sir...sir?" Lance finally asked if he'd like to go inside.

He stood, and left without a word.

Gwen hurried to her flat, and it took her five or six tries to open the door, her hands were shaking so badly. She could hardly see through her tears. Once inside, she did the only thing she could think of. She could her older brother. He was the only one who'd be able to calm her down and she knew it.

Hours passed, and Arthur waited waiting for his emotions to settle down. Hurt triumphed over his anger, eventually and he realised he didn't have anyone to talk to. There had been Gabby, and she was, well, dead. And Gwen, she must hate him.

Finally, unable to sleep that night, he found himself roaming around the building. The place he was led to was Gwen's door.

It had taken Dean, Gwen's older brother, almost an hour to calm her down. And when she'd gotten off the phone, she was still crying, though not as badly. Her face felt extremely hot, and her head was pounding.

Arthur finally knocked, and didn't have the words to say at first. "I...just...need to know what's going on."

Gwen opened the door and heard what he said. She looked ridiculous, with her face still red and her hair tangled beyond belief. "Yeah, I guess you do." She said, moving aside to let him in.

"Yeah. Um..." He couldn't say he was sorry, because somehow he'd meant every word. "I-shouldn't have spoken that way. Even though I meant what I said, I was far too harsh."

"Yeah, I'm not sorry either." Gwen said, rubbing her eyes, "I meant everything I said."

"Well, we agree on something." Arthur bit his lip, and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

"The problem is," Gwen said, finally breaking, just because of how casually he appeared to be treating the whole situation. "That you don't know everything about me, and you seem to assume that you're the only one who's gone through bad family stuff, because I don't tell you all my problems!"

"I shouldn't have thought that." Arthur was willing to say almost anything to have her back in his arms, where it seemed she fit perfectly. "But you don't know everything about me, Guinevere. I am not perfect. I can't be your hero."

"I'm not asking you to be!" Gwen exclaimed, "I'm just asking you to listen for once in your life!" She knew that wasn't strictly true. He listened to her all the time. But she was upset.

"And I'm asking you to understand!" He retorted without thinking. His blue eyes held just a hint of fire in them. "Everything I've said has fallen on deaf ears."

"I am trying to understand!" Gwen practically screamed back at him, "I have listened and listened to you talk about what happened, and I care, I do. But the thing with your family? You can still change that, Arthur!"

"No! You can't, and you never will. When you find the time to really want to know," Arthur said angrily, turning towards the door. "Come to see me. But until then..." He could barely tell what he was doing, and shook his head numbly. "I can't bear to talk to you."

"There's the problem, right there." Gwen said quietly, watching him. "You don't seem to see that no matter how much you tell me, I can never truly know. I wasn't there, Arthur. I can only try to help."

Arthur bit his lip, so hard he almost bled. "I don't want to be understood, Gwen. No one has ever bothered before, and I don't see why it should need to change now."

"Clearly you do!" Gwen blurted, "Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation. But I have family problems too, Arthur. But I've never said anything, because you never asked. You couldn't even ask?"

"Why do we even need to continue on like this?" Arthur was tired of the yelling, and something inside him was dying. "Can we just stop? Drop the subject...please. Gwen, you have to know I love you. You complete me. And-" He still couldn't say he was sorry. It felt so wrong not to be able to say that.

Gwen turned away, rubbing her forehead, her voice finally quieting a few decibels. "Do you know why I want you to repair your relationship with your mother, Arthur?"

"No. And I see no reason why it should matter so much." He sunk against the wall for support, exhausted beyond belief.

"Because Arthur," Gwen said, "The last time I talked to my mother, I told her that I hated her. And that I never wanted to see her again." Her voice was barely audible, but he could hear it breaking. "And-she died two days l-later."

Arthur didn't have a single word to say. Was it really worth that much? After everything he really would want to be on good terms with his Mother. He knew that heaven came quickly, and by anyone's guess. He didn't want that for them, but somehow it wasn't enough. "I'm sorry..." He finally whispered.

"I don't want you to be sorry." Gwen replied, turning again to look at him, "I want you to fix this."

He nodded, and turned away, his heart heavy in his chest. Arthur knew she was right. He didn't want to go through the rest of his life, with his family as strangers. Would it really be good to have a family with no grandparents? No aunts? No uncles? All because he'd made a stupid mistake.

Gwen could see he was thinking about what she'd said, so she stayed quiet. Good. Let him think it over.

"Give me some time, please." Arthur looked up, his hand twisting the doorknob so hard it looked painful. "I need some time alone."

"This is my flat." Gwen looked confused.

"I know. Which is why you might not see me around for a while." He continued.

She knew it wasn't exactly avoidable, and hadn't been from the beginning. "Alright." She said, her voice quiet.

For some reason, Arthur couldn't feel like he understood himself anymore. "Good...bye." He shut the door behind him, and hurried up to his own rooms, completely destroyed inside. Part of him knew Gwen was completely right, and the other part was so set in his ways.

Gwen was so worn out, and it was only about twelve in the afternoon. Mechanically, she changed into her loose, comfortable pajamas, and flopped down on her bed. Her head was still pounding from her crying, and she shut her eyes to stop the headache. And before she knew it, she was asleep.

Arthur found himself going thoroughly into work mode. It was his easiest way to shut out pain. Every morning he arrived at the office as much as three hours early, and stayed just as late. It became his life.

Gwen lived in a way that was seemingly mechanic. She went to work, she came home, she showered, she ate, but she wasn't really alive. So zoned out, she didn't even notice what she was doing half the time. It was as if the all the walls she walked past, where a perpetual shade of prison gray.

They completely avoided one another, so much that others began to notice. Their engagement hadn't been a soft and quiet secret; hence, it was no wonder people were questioning things. Finally, one of Arthur's oldest employees approached him.

"Sir? I couldn't help but notice you and...Guinevere...have been at, well, at odds lately." Colin spoke, but his words were notably nervous. Barely anyone had the nerves to talk to Arthur lately.

Arthur shook his head, and covered his eyes. "I'm sorry...I can't handle talking right now. Colin...thanks for caring."

Colin shrugged, and took a seat next to his boss. "I know, but I was thinking, maybe you needed a day off. A friend."

Arthur spent the day having his ear talked off by employees who were eager to cheer him up. He appreciated their effort, but it just didn't seem to be working. Finally, when Colin wouldn't leave him alone, he sent him to Gwen's house with, 'I'm sure she...could use some cheering up as well.'

Gwen would only have been so lucky. She had no one to talk to. At all. In the end, she took a 'sick' day off work. She had been planning on just staying at home and doing...nothing. And then she'd actually gotten a sick. The worst migraine she'd ever had was now pounding it's way though her skull. Wonderful. She lay face down on her couch, her whole head pounding. "Advil." She muttered, pushing herself up to find them.

When she didn't answer the doorbell, Colin left her a bright bunch of daises, which he hoped would cheer her up. Those were the flowers Arthur always brought her, or so he'd observed.

Gwen heard the doorbell. And she ignored it, because she didn't feel like moving. She'd made it to the Advil, and was now sitting on the bathroom floor, trying to make herself get up and head towards the kitchen for water. It took several minutes before she made it there. And then she went to the door. And found the flowers. And didn't register who they were from because her head was pounding and her vision was blurred. So she put the flowers in a vase on the table, and then went to sleep.

Arthur stayed at home that night, completely sleepless. Occasionally, he'd work on his photography for a few moments, but it wasn't the same. The computer beeped, and a video chat pulled up. "Dad..." He muttered, and opened it. "Hey."

"Arthur. It's been a while since we've talked." His father said.

"Yeah...life has been complicated, lately." That was an understatement.

"Well, it will improve. It always does."

Arthur blinked. His father wasn't usually such an optimist.

"Dad, I'm glad you're happy, but I just don't feel like talking."

"Son, sometimes the times we hate it the most are the times we need it the most." The words came with a nod.

Arthur leaned back on the couch, and grimaced. "It's Gwen. We had our first fight. It's been...weeks, Dad. It hurts. But what hurts most is that I can't seem to say I'm sorry."

They talked for three hours that night and sometime Arthur actually drove over to his parents' and slept in his old bed. He needed them, and it had taken him that long to see it.

Gwen's headache was gone within a few hours, and then she finally slept. Finally. But of course, that was when her nightmares decided to make a reappearance. So two hours of sleep was about all she got. And then she wrapped herself in a blanket and listened to Kansas songs for the rest of the night.

The next morning Arthur awoke, and barely recognized his surroundings. The walls were a dusky gray blue, and various sports trophies hung on the walls as decorations. He rubbed his eyes open further. "My old room." He felt like a kid, and almost smiled. "Home..." He hadn't even realised how lonely he'd been. He could smell breakfast food coming from downstairs, and yawned.

Gwen left the blanket on her couch and put on Carry on my Wayward Son by Kansas. That cheered her up more than anything. It was her favourite song. She even smiled as she began to make breakfast for herself.

"Morning, Dad." Arthur traipsed down the stairs, on the other side of town, wearing no shirt, and a pair of plaid pajama pants that were loose and comfortable.

His father looked over him, and chuckled.

"Goodness sakes, child. Did we ever raise you? Put on some proper clothing before coming to the table."

Arthur reddened, and ran back upstairs to change before sitting down.

"Mmm. What's for breakfast?" Even when he was child, it hadn't been often that his parents had made their own food. Only when they were trying to get something out of him, or tell him something, did they ever have breakfast as a family.

"Bacon, Eggs, Toast, you name it." Was the response, as a glass of juice was poured for their son.

"Dad...what's happening?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"We just thought you needed some extra loving care." His mother said, coming and kissing his forehead.

Okay, this was officially weird now. His mother never did that.

"Somebody say something..."

When Gwen finished cooking, she sort of walked around her flat as she ate. She didn't really know why, but she didn't want to be sitting. She had Carry on my Wayward Son on repeat, and by the third time she was singing along.

After a few days, Arthur found he couldn't really live from a carryon bag very well, and decided to go get some things from his apartment. The boxes were still in the closet from his move in, and all he had to do was reassemble them. He left the door to the room open, and began placing some of his favourite things in the containers. It would be nice to have a little bit of his home back with him too.

Gwen prayed that Arthur was home. Now that she was happier, she turned off the music and put down the plate in the sink. Then she took the elevator up to Arthur's. It was only once she was there that she realized she was still in pajamas and flip flops.

He didn't hear the quiet footsteps sinking into the carpet. He had a pair of headphones plugged into his ipod, and was listening to music to make the time go by faster.

"Arthur?" Gwen said, confusion filling her voice, with just a hint of panic, "What are you doing?"

Arthur blinked. "Gwen? I'm...packing." He shut the box, and stood up, pulling the music away. "Just...yeah, that's it."

"Wait you're moving?" Gwen asked. The panic was definitely there.

"Yes." The answer was simple. Surely she'd understand a simple move, back into his parents' house. "It won't be forever..."

"Where are you going?" Gwen asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "How far away?"

"Ten miles...fifteen at the most. " He sunk down onto the couch, and could tell she was fighting the urge to fall apart. "It's not that big of a deal. I'll come back."

"No, I mean where are you going?" Gwen asked, finding it a bit hard to breath.

"Home." Arthur looked up, his big blue eyes looking like they could belong to a six year old. "I want to go home, Gwen."

"Wait...home as in...your parent's house?" Gwen asked.

"I need to not be alone." He said honestly. "At least there I have someone that loves me right close by. I promise it won't be forever...and..." Arthur wanted to be kind; he wanted show he still loved her. "You are welcome to come visit, anytime."

"It's fine." Gwen said, "I just...um...yeah." Her voice died off, "No, I'm glad you're going there. It'll be good." Her smile was a lopsided mess of uncertainty.

"I'm not trying to cut you off, Guinevere." Arthur sighed deeply."Surely, you know that I always loved, and always will. I'm only a phone call away, if you ever need me."

"N-no, I know." Gwen said, "And I was serious. I'm glad you're making the effort to repair this relationship. It'll be worth it."

"Just, please. Say you won't make this be over. I'm going to need you. I don't want to be alone again, Gwen, I can't live like that." He frowned and looked over the apartment, which was mostly cleared out.

"Of course not." Gwen said, "No, you have to know I love you! Actually, I think a little bit of time apart might be good... And that doesn't mean I want to be apart from you. But I think we both need it." She sounded stronger now, and was sure of her decision.

Arthur looked away, partially to hide the fact that his eyes were starting to tear up. He'd missed her, and would even more. It felt almost like he was being...sent away, not choosing to leave. "Yeah...whatever you say, Gwen. I-um-should get going."

"Yeah, right," Gwen said. She turned away. She hated long goodbyes, so she just wasn't going to bother.

"I'll see around. And someday, maybe all this can end, and it can be like once was." Arthur looked back one last time before leaving her standing there. "Don't forget."

"Of course not." Gwen replied quietly. Why did it feel like they were saying goodbye forever when she knew they weren't? Were they?