John knocked on the door and waited for the soft voice inside to bid him enter. He nudged the door open with his shoulder and entered slowly. Anna had her knees up in the bed, writing something in a book. She looked up as he entered and put the book aside but she did not smile.

"How are you feeling?" John set the tray near her on the bed and stepped back a pace.

"Better. Doctor Clarkson said that Sybil did a very good job with my stiches and I'll be healed up in less than a week."

"And what did Doctor Seward say?"

"She's… not as enthusiastic." Anna gripped the book tightly enough that her fingers whitened. "She thinks I need a change of pace for a time."

"But the trial?"

"Mr. Talbot came by while you were out." Anna set the book down on the table next to the bed. "He said that Green's vanished and since they can't find him then my story's nothing but good reading for someone and a desperate cry for help for others."

"What'll they do with it?"

"They've decided on community service. It's a little thing I can do and then they'll use my testimony if they ever catch him."

"But they will catch him?"

Anna shrugged, "Given that he slipped them the first time on drug charges I doubt it."

"And… the other charges?"

"You can say 'rape' John. It's a word, like any other. It's only got the power we give it."

"I didn't want…"

"I know." Anna took a deep breath, "I think we need to talk about that."

"What?"

"I've been thinking, after conversations with Doctor Seward, and I need to go away from here."

"This is your home Anna."

"But it's not… it's not the same anymore." Anna waved a hand toward the back garden. "I can't even go in there without thinking that maybe I…"

"It's okay." John reached for her hand but she drew it away.

"It's not, John. It's not okay and we need to stop pretending that it is." Anna closed her eyes, evening her breathing after her outburst. "I can't be here when I feel like I'm not breathing or that I'm… I can't feel like I'm suffocating here."

"I can-"

"No, John, it's not… It's not something you can fix."

John sat back, nodding. "I know. I just… I just want to help."

"Can you call Father Crawley to come?"

"Father Crawley?" John frowned, "You're not Catholic though."

"I need to talk to him about something else." Anna pulled the book back into her hands. "I need to get back to this work. Mrs. Hughes needs the numbers by tonight and if I don't have them then… well, she's depending on me and I can't let her down."

"I understand." John pointed to the tray. "Lunch is there."

"I can get to the kitchen myself John."

"I know." He held up his hands, "But I'll be late and Ondine might not be too interested in making food so I wanted to make sure you had something."

"Are you going out?"

"Yeah. Just fishing in the bay but I'll have my mobile so you can reach me if you need anything."

"I'll call if I need something." Anna pulled the book back to her, "Thank you."

John raised his hand as if to say something else but just nodded. "Okay."

He walked out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. John stopped, his fingers tracing over the lock there as his eyes wandered over the plain wood. His feet planted and John only had enough energy to rest his head on the solid material. The weak thump of his head on the material echoed in the caress of his hand over the grains.

"I'm here Anna. I'll always be here."

No response came from the door and John pushed off it to leave the house. His steps fell heavily on the gravel as he walked to the dock and even heavier when he hit the deck of his boat. The motions were those practiced over years of work and even his steering followed the influence of instinct instead of focus.

John guided the boat out farther than he ever took it and noted none of the other boats around. He dropped the nets and started a slow track while pulling out his mobile. The number dialed after a moment and John worked it up to his ear, managing the gears and wheels one-handed. He plugged in a pair of earbuds and worked one into his ear before dropping the mobile into the large pocket at the front of his coveralls.

"Father Robert Crawley speaking."

"Father, it's John."

"John?" The line crackled a moment. "Are you out at sea? Your reception's horrible."

"I was actually hoping you'd go visit my wife."

"Is she ill?"

"More in spirit and mind than body I think." John stopped the boat, his eyesight misting and a choke forming in his throat. "She's leaving me Rob."

"She'd never do that John."

"She's… she wants you to come and talk to her because she needs to find a new place. Somewhere she's not reminded of what happened." John hacked a sob, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "She can barely look at me and her therapist suggested going somewhere else."

"A retreat isn't the end of the world John."

"She'll never come back. Not if she finds peace there."

"Who said she'd like it better there than with you?"

"She's not even returned me touching her hand, Rob. It's been three months and all she does when I'm in the same room is avoid me."

"What about Ondine?"

John shrugged, even though he was the only one to see it. "They talk but it's all surface stuff. It's like the Anna from before died and we've only got a shell in her place. A shell that won't crack and show us that there's anyone there anymore."

"You know there is."

"I don't think she can see it Robert." John sat back in his chair, closing his eyes to track the roll of his tears down his cheeks by the sensation of the slightest hint of tickle. "She only sees what happened, over and over again."

"Did she tell you that?"

"No. But I hear her nightmares. I get them through the walls and it's… it's not getting better. Even after we started going to see Doctor Seward."

"Damn. I thought she could help."

"I don't think she knows how to help."

"You don't trust her credentials?"

"I think the person has to want to be helped."

John heard the silence on the other end of the line. "You don't think Anna wants to be helped?"

"I think Anna believes she deserved it. That this is payment for her life before or something ridiculous."

"She told you that?"

"I…" John squirmed in his seat. "She's been keeping a diary, for Doctor Seward, and she'd left it on the table once. As I shut the book I read a few lines."

"John!"

"It was accidental but I saw it there in black and white… or bluish purple and white I guess."

"Oh John…" Robert's exhale echoed tinnily through the speaker. "I'll go talk to her. But you know, I can't tell you anything."

"I wouldn't ask you to unless there was something I needed to do. Something I could solve."

"That's the problem with us men, isn't it? We're not good with a problem unless we can solve it." Robert sighed, "But this one isn't as easily fixed John and that's the hardest part I think."

"The time?"

"Having to watch someone heal themselves enough to trust you to help heal them. You see it with addictions and self-mutilations and eating disorders. They've got to cross the Rubicon on their own and then you can help them. They won't accept it before that."

"What do I do until then?"

"Love her, wait, and accept that she's walking the road she thinks best."

"But it's-"

"I know, it's probably not the best. It'll alienate those who love her, it'll drive away the help she needs but she doesn't know that yet. She's still got to figure it out for herself… and we've got to help her."

"Just," John closed his eyes, sighing over the phone, "Just text me when you've visited her. And if there is anything you can tell me…"

"You'll be the first to know John, I promise."

"Thank you Robert."

"It's what friends do John."

John ended the call and winched up the net. Without Anna there it was not nearly as full as it used to be but John emptied it and worked farther and farther out. His phone vibrated in his pocket and John winched the net again, the gains larger than his whole day to that point, and checked the call as he dumped the fish in the tank.

Reading it quickly he replaced the phone in his front pocket and steered toward the main harbor. The mood with Mrs. Hughes crackled like ice but John busied himself counting the fish along with her and accepted the receipt without another word. In fact he was almost back to his boat before Mrs. Hughes finally caught up to him.

"Mr. Bates, I think there's something you need to know."

John frowned and turned to her, hand digging in his pocket to pull out the receipt. "Is there something wrong with my catches?"

"No, you're catches are fine and the pay is fair."

"I'd never accuse you of anything less than that."

"It's about… it's about Anna." Mrs. Hughes tapped her clipboard against the flat of her hand before gripping it as if she needed the weight there to get her through whatever she planned to say.

"What about Anna?"

"There's been a man asking question about her recently."

"What'd he look like?" John tightened his jaw and the receipt crumpled in his hand as his fingers clenched almost on instinct.

"Tall, I'd say skinny but it's more like the man's a bean pole, and a long face."

"Like he's disappointed in something?"

Mrs. Hughes shook her head, "It's more like his face is stretched. Fits with his overall demeanor but it makes his eyes bug out from his head a bit. Do you know him?"

"No." John shook his head, "He's not who I thought you were talking about."

"Who then?" Mrs. Hughes frowned but John waved her off."

"It's not important. What'd he want?"

"Just said he'd heard there was an Anna Smith, recently moved here, and said he was looking for her."

"Why'd he come to you?"

"Someone in town said she worked as our bookkeeper and he inquired." Mrs. Hughes shivered, "Something about him gave me the worst kind of feeling. Like I was talking to a snake."

"If we believe the Harry Potterbooks I read with Ondine then those people actually exist." John sighed, "Did he leave a name or an address or anything?"

"Nothing like that. Said to tell her, if I saw her, that someone was looking for her and she'd know what that meant."

"How cryptically vague."

"I know." Mrs. Hughes agreed quickly. "People watch too many movies. Makes them think every time they get into a car they're in some Furiously Fast movie or something and that their lives are underplayed by a soundtrack."

John laughed, "It's Fast and Furious, Mrs. Hughes, but I know what you mean."

"This man though…" Mrs. Hughes risked a hand away from her steading clipboard to rub her arms. "He seemed serious. Like those Russian men who came for three weeks last year."

"The ones who stalked the docks and rented out those boats for night fishing?"

"Those ones." Mrs. Hughes shuddered, "I still think they were trafficking something."

"Had to've been. They weren't fishing with anything I recognized." John rubbed a hand at the back of his head. "I'd better get back. Ondine's bound to've lost herself in her reading again and refused to make herself dinner to solve a grumbling stomach."

"That girl needs a hobby."

"She's got one, reading every book in the library and getting more sent to her." John mimed his next statement with his hands. "She's got a stack of books this high next to her bed and it never change height. The only change is the books in the stack itself."

"Voracious reading is to be applauded Mr. Bates."

"And I applaud it when she's not risking starvation or sleep deprivation for 'one more chapter'." John shrugged, "But better she's addicted to books than drugs I guess."

"About that," Mrs. Hughes chewed her bottom lip. "I don't know what you've heard around town lately but it seems your ex-wife decided to leave you quite the parting gift when she went to London."

"I thought it was just the end of her lease on her house." John's brow furrowed, "What's she been saying?"

"She told Mr. Barrow that Anna's a drug mule or something like that."

John closed his eyes, fingers gripping the bridge of his nose to stave off the thunder of blood in his ears. "Did she now?"

"Yes. Said she was involved with some bad people and came here to escape them or some such nonsense."

"You don't believe it?"

"I believe we've all got things in our past better left there than brought here." Mrs. Hughes stole a look about them and lowered her voice. "I once worked as a phone sex operator, if you believe it."

"I don't but I could see how the Scottish accent might do it for some men."

"Mr. Bates!" Mrs. Hughes whacked him solidly with her clipboard. "That's enough of that from you."

"I'm sorry," John raised his hands in surrender, "That wasn't kind."

"It was better than Mr. Carson took it when he first found out." Mrs. Hughes' cheeks reddened along the bone a moment. "But he got used to the idea after awhile."

John coughed, "Is there anything else, Mrs. Hughes?"

"Just let Anna know that we miss her here. I know she's been ill lately and we hope she recovers soon. Especially since they say this'll be a nasty flu season."

"I'll tell her." John climbed onto his boat, "Thank you Mrs. Hughes."

He steered back to the inlet, securing his boat to the dock as the wood creaked. Looking up, he tightened the rope and dropped it. "I thought you were reading."

"I do manage to get out of my books occasionally."

"I know."

"Father Crawley visited today." Ondine folded her arms over her chest. "I thought Anna was Anglican."

"She is. I think she needed some advice."

"I don't think that's what they were talking about." She frowned, "Do you know he had two other daughters?"

"I think so." John frowned, "Mary and… Ethel?"

"Edith."

"Oh." Ondine shrugged, "I guess she's not the favorite."

"We all know that Sybil's his favorite." John walked to Ondine's side and they walked up the dock toward the house. "Why'd you ask?"

"They were talking about how Anna knew her." Ondine kicked a rock. "I think she's moving there."

"Moving where?" John stopped but as Ondine went to speak they heard the door to the house close. Both heads turned to see Anna there, massaging one hand with the other.

"Could I speak to you?" Anna turned to John, her whole body strung like a spring. "Alone for a moment and then with Ondine?"

"I-" John looked at Ondine but she nodded and went to the house. She stopped when she reached Anna and managed a hug. Anna gripped her tightly and released as Ondine did.

Anna walked to John as the door closed and jerked her head toward the side. They walked together to the edge of the water and Anna cleared her throat. "I don't know what Ondine told you about what she overheard between Father Crawley and I but I wanted to tell you what's going on before you let your mind run away with ideas."

"What kind of ideas?" John tried to laugh it off but Anna shook her head.

"I know she overheard Father Crawley and I talking about Mary and the possibility of me living with Mary for a time."

"How?"

"She was in the kitchen and dropped a bowl."

"Oh." John snuck a glance at Anna's hands but stopped himself reaching for them by jamming his deep into his pockets. "What'd you decide?"

"Did Father Crawley not tell you?"

"His conversation with you is protected the same as if you were in his office or the confessional." John pulled out his phone and slid his finger over it to show her the message. "All he said was that he thinks your decision'll help you."

"And you agree?"

"I don't know what your decision even is yet. You haven't told me."

"Right," Anna cleared her throat through her nervous laugh. "I guess I was hoping someone else had so I didn't have to bear the bad news myself."

"Bad news?"

"I'm going to stay with Mary Crawley, in Downton, for awhile."

"Oh," John wished he had something else to roll off his tongue but that was all he could manage. "Why wouldn't you want to tell me that yourself?"

"Because I know the suffering it'll bring you." Anna sniffed, wiping at her eye with the back of a hand. "I know you'll think this is all your fault and that you're to blame for it but I don't want you to think that."

"What do you want me to think?"

"That I'm… I want to heal. I want to not feel like this."

John shook his head, "I don't even know what 'this' is, Anna."

"Like I'm shamed."

"Shamed?" John flustered, "Shamed for what? I don't see any shame in this."

Anna's eyes grew wide, "I'm spoiled, John."

"Spoiled?"

"First with my history as Green's mule and now with…" Anna closed her eyes, trying to even her breathing. "I'm not whole, John. I feel broken and shattered and… I can't bear to live in that house knowing it's dark for me now. I can't bear to look at you or Ondine knowing that I'm…"

"Anna," John reached for her and while she stiffened she did not pull away. He placed his hands as gently as he could on her cheeks, noting the tears sliding over his fingers. "You're not spoiled. You've never been spoiled and you'll never be spoiled. Not to Ondine and never to me."

"Truly?" One of Anna's trembling hands covered his.

"Truly." John held her gaze, "I love you more every day and nothing'll change that. I loved you when I didn't even know who you were and I can only love you more now knowing the suffering you've been put through and survived."

Anna turned her head to kiss his palm but drew away. "And knowing that, I still need to go. Just for a little while." She paused, swallowing hard, "I need to heal, John. Heal so that I can see myself the way you see me. So I can face myself in the mirror and see the woman you see there instead of who I see there."

"I understand."

"You do?"

"Well, no, actually I don't." John gripped her fingers. "But I want to and I'm here for you whenever you need me. I'll always be here for you."

"Then I'm going to do all I can to come back to you." Anna took a small step forward and gingerly wrapped her arms around him.

John waited before he echoed her embrace, pulling her close. She sniffed and he could feel some of her tears wetting the sleeve of his shirt but he held her until she released. Placing a soft kiss on her forehead he nodded. "I love you Anna. I always have and I always will."

"I love you too John." She nodded toward the house, "How'll we tell her?"

"Directly and with as little fanfare as possible." John offered Anna his hand, "But most importantly we'll tell her together."