A/N - If you've read this far, please let me know what you think!
Grace heard the scream through the open terrace doors and quickly stood, tears forgotten and raced up to Annie's room. The door was already open, Oliver had beaten her there of course, and had the girl in his arms, stroking her hair and shushing her. Annie was sobbing into his chest, and Grace's own tears made a reappearance as she walked up behind Oliver, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her and nodded, as Grace sank down beside him on the bed, rubbing Annie's back. Annie looked up and reached for Grace, crying harder as Grace took her into her arms, wincing as Annie rubbed against Grace's cut hand.
"Shh, Annie, shh now," Grace soothed, slowly rocking her back and forth. "You're safe, everything is all right." Oliver's hand came up to join hers on Annie's back as he leaned toward the two of them.
"Do you want to tell us about your dream, sweetheart?" he asked quietly. Annie shook her head, burying her face further into Grace's neck.
"Sometimes it helps dear, to tell someone else," Grace encouraged. Annie took a breath and sat up, looking from Grace to Oliver and back again.
"I was on the bridge again, only this time, Punjab couldn't get to me. I was hanging on so tight and he kept trying to grab me, but he kept missing. I kept calling for him to help me, but he kept getting farther away from me. And then I couldn't hold on anymore and I fell. I kept falling and falling and I saw you, Miss Farrell, and you, Mr. Warbucks, walking away, but not together, you walked away in different directions and I just kept falling and falling and I knew that I lost everyone," Annie finished, sobbing anew.
Grace leaned down and kissed Annie on the top of her head, continuing to rub her back, whispering quietly to her, rocking her all the while. Grace felt Oliver shift toward Annie a bit more and he bumped up against Grace lightly. Grace flinched away, looking up at him and he nodded his head in apology, then moved away from her, reaching up a hand to stroke Annie's head. Annie finally quieted and then sat up to look at the both of them again.
"But that won't happen, right?" she asked, her eyes beseeching. "I'm going to stay here, with you?"
"Of course, child, of course," Oliver assured her. "I want to adopt you Annie, you know that."
"And we'll be a family? With Miss Farrell? A real family?" Annie continued, looking from one to the other. Grace, startled, looked at Oliver, who was just as shocked as she. Grace recovered quickly, hoping the smile she gave Annie was genuine.
"Of course Annie, you'll always have a family here," Grace insisted. "Come now, let's get you back in bed." Annie looked at her suspiciously, Grace knew she hadn't really answered the girl's question.
"But," Annie began as Grace tucked her back under the covers.
"Hush now, dear, try and get some sleep," Grace interrupted. Grace knew there would be more questions from the girl in the morning, but she hoped that exhaustion would win out for now. Grace didn't have long to wait as Annie's eyelids drooped quickly and soon Grace and Oliver heard the rhythmic breathing of peaceful sleep. Grace leaned down and kissed Annie's forehead, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and then stepped back. Oliver followed suit, tucking the covers more securely around her. They walked quietly from the room, Oliver leaving the door open a bit in case Annie awoke again.
"How is your hand?" Oliver asked, once they had walked a few feet from Annie's door. Grace looked at the handkerchief wrapped around her palm. She'd forgotten all about it while she had been comforting Annie, but now noticed that it had started to bleed again, seeping through her make-shift bandage.
"It's fine," she replied, but Oliver had seen the blood.
"We need to get that doctored properly," he insisted. "Please, come into my study, I'll get the kit Mrs. Greer keeps there and fix it up for you."
"Mr. Warbucks, that's not necessary," Grace protested. "I can take care of it myself."
"Nonsense," Oliver insisted. "You can't bandage it with just one hand." He placed a hand on her arm, slowly guiding her to his study. Grace sighed and followed him, knowing it was useless to protest. Once Oliver set his mind to something, there was no changing it.
As they entered the study, Oliver gestured for Grace to have a seat on the sofa, then went into the small bathroom to pull out the first aid supplies he knew were kept there. He pulled down bandages and tape, antiseptic and a small cloth, carrying everything back into the study and setting it on the small end table near the couch. He sat on the coffee table and took Grace's hand in his own, slowly unwinding the handkerchief. She grimaced as it pulled free of the cut, which had already started to clot. Oliver scanned the cut again, making sure that he had indeed removed all the glass before cleansing it with the antiseptic. Grace gasped as the antiseptic touched the gash, he gave her an apologetic look to which she just nodded. Oliver carefully bandaged the wound, then patted her hand and gave her a small smile.
"It doesn't look too deep and I made sure all the glass was gone," Oliver told her.
"Thank you sir," she said quietly, starting to rise from the couch. Oliver stopped her with a hand to her arm.
"Miss Farrell, I think we need to have a talk," he said.
"Sir, I'm very tired, can't this," Grace began, but stopped as Oliver held up his hand.
"Please," he requested. Grace paused, then nodded her head, sinking back down on the couch. Oliver hesitated, not sure where to begin. He suspected she knew what he was about to say, but that knowledge didn't make it any easier for him, knowing he was going to hurt her. And she was so distracting, with her hair tousled from holding onto Annie, her face flushed from the all the tears she had already shed tonight. He found himself staring at her for much longer than he intended and shook his head, as if clearing it.
"I want to apologize to you for the way I've been acting the last few days. I feel as if I've blurred the lines in our relationship and that was inexcusable," he said, looking down at his hands instead of her. He heard her swift intake of breath and heard her shift on the couch. He glanced up, but her face was blank, she was looking down at her lap. He rose, walking to the window, trying to give himself time to compose his thoughts.
"Now that Annie is back, I need to concentrate on helping her adjust after everything she's been through, as well as having a new father. I know she had," he paused, not sure how to phrase it. "Expectations, as to how things were going to be between the three of us." He paused again, still not turning to look at Grace. He couldn't bear to see the hurt that he knew was in her eyes, nor did he want her to see his.
"Sir, please," Grace said quietly. "There's no need to go on. Of course Annie should be the priority. Don't trouble yourself any further." He heard her stand and walk towards the door. At her quiet 'good night' he clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself to stay where he was. He heard her open the door and then close it softly behind her.
Oliver took a deep breath and tried to slow the rapid beating of his heart. The events of the day were catching up with him. Oliver saw Annie climbing for her life up the railroad bridge, he saw he hanging from the edge and then dropping down before getting another grip. He heard her scream and her cries for help. Her saw her in her nightmare as she had described, falling and falling with he and Grace just walking away from her,. He saw Grace walking quietly out the door. He tried to breathe regularly, but his breath was hitching in his chest and he started to feel dizzy. He turned to grab the chair, but his vision swam and then everything went black and he slumped, heavily, to the floor.
Grace stood with her back to the door, trying to find the strength to make it to her room, when all she wanted to do was sink down to the floor and sleep, emotionally spent from the events of the day. She wasn't surprised by what Oliver, no Mr. Warbucks, she had to start thinking of him as Mr. Warbucks again, had said. But, his constant change in demeanor and behavior was making her head spin. She wasn't sure what to think anymore and she was far too exhausted to even try and figure it out. Grace took a few steps away from the door, intent on heading to her room and going to bed when she heard a large thump from the study and then silence. She took a step back toward the door, listening intently, but still heard nothing. Concern etched her brow as she knocked quietly on the door.
"Mr. Warbucks," she called. "Sir?" There was no answer. Grace knocked a little louder, but still got no response. Worried now, she opened the door and looked into the room. She didn't see anyone at first and bewildered stepped inside, looking around and calling his name. Her eyes settled on the chair near the window and that was when she noticed the leg sticking out from behind it.
"Mr. Warbucks," she cried, running to him. She knelt down beside him and took one of his hands in her own, patting his face with the other. "Sir, please," she begged, shaking his shoulders. She didn't want to call for anyone, in case she woke up Annie. The girl couldn't go through anymore trauma tonight. And she couldn't just leave him here, lying on the floor, while she went for help. She shook his shoulders again, praying for him to wake up. He stirred a bit under her hand.
"Oliver?" she whispered, as he groaned and opened his eyes. He looked at her for a moment, then tried to sit up. She helped pull him up and into the chair. He sighed and leaned his head back into it, eyes closed. She fussed around him, helping him take off his jacket, loosening his tie, until he finally grabbed her hand and told her he was fine.
"Maybe I should call the doctor," she said, still worried.
"No, no, I'm fine, Miss Farrell," he said, waving off her concern.
"Did you hit your head?" Grace still fluttered around him, feeling his forehead, trying to take his pulse.
"Grace," he said sharply, and she startled at the use of her first name. "I'm fine, please." He indicated the chair across from him and she sank down into it.
"What happened?" she asked. He sighed and rubbed a hand along his jaw.
"I'm not sure, I," Oliver paused, then waved a hand as if to say it wasn't a big deal. "Nothing, I'm just tired from the events of the day."
"Sir, you fainted," Grace emphasized.
"I'm fine," Oliver insisted. "I'll just go to bed and I'll be right as rain in the morning." Grace looked at him doubtfully for a few moments more, then rose from her chair.
"All right sir, good night then," Grace moved toward the door, but paused as she reached it and looked back. Mr. Warbucks was staring off into the distance, sadness in his eyes. Grace was sure there was more bothering him than he was admitting, but she doubted he would ever speak to her about it. A few hours ago, she might have thought differently, but now, she shook her head reaching for the door. But, still, she couldn't just leave him like this without at least trying to talk to him. She turned, mind made up, when she heard him speak, so quietly she didn't hear what he said at first.
"What was that, sir?" she asked, walking back toward him.
"I said, I almost lost her today," he said, looking down at his hands. His voice was so quiet, and sounded so defeated, Grace's breath caught.
"But you didn't," she said softly, reaching out to touch him, then thinking better of it and pulling her hand back.
"No, I didn't," he agreed, but his smile was sad. "But I could have. I don't know what I would do if," he stopped, clearly overcome and put his head in his hands. Grace went to him, kneeling in front of him, putting a hand on his arm.
"She's fine now and she's yours," she said with conviction, reaching up to take a hand away from his face. Grace gasped at his expression, she had never seen this strong, hard, no-nonsense man look so anguished. It made her heart melt, all intention to keep her distance forgotten. As she grasped his hand and he looked up at her, softly at first, as he raised a hand toward her face. Grace held her breath, expecting a soft caress of her cheek and looked deeply into Oliver's eyes. He stopped then, lowered his hand and stood abruptly, a neutral expression on his face. Grace sighed, then stood herself, avoiding eye contact with him.
"Yes, well," he began, looking uncomfortable and fidgeting with his shirt cuff. "Perhaps you're right, Miss Farrell. I intend to get started on the official adoption in the morning, in any case." Grace nodded, crossing the room to the door, still avoiding looking at him.
"Miss Farrell," Mr. Warbucks called as she reached the door. Grace turned slowly, focusing on a point past his shoulder.
"Yes, sir?" she asked.
"Since it is so late, please take the morning off tomorrow. We can get started on the factory after lunch." Grace nodded and let herself out of the room. She closed the door quietly behind her, took a deep breath and slowly walked back to her room.