Gilbert didn't dare sleep a wink. As much as he'd like to sleep, staying awake was just easier. He didn't know what would happen once his eyes opened. Would he be on his way home with his love in his arms? Or would she be miles away, in danger? It hardly mattered to him if it was a dream or reality; he liked that she was near and safe.

She slept soundly, but not at all still. Even in slumber Anne was full of life; muttering under her breath and turning in her sleep. Every few minutes she'd flinch and Gilbert would hold her tighter when she did. He knew her past would haunt her dreams and even if he couldn't protect her from them he wanted her to know he was there, and that he always would be.

The weight of her head on his chest was perfect. The warmth of her body on his was exhilarating. He could wake up holding his Anne-Girl like this for the rest of his life. He knew now more than ever that he wanted this, wanted her, forever. He just wanted Anne to want him just as much as He wanted her. How could he live with himself if he'd let her succumb to a life she didn't want? Not to mention how he'd feel knowing she wanted more than him.

"How could I be destined to the likes of you?"

The words rang in his ear. He'd grown up believing Anne would never love him but he'd never had to hear it aloud. He knew they'd both exchanged some words that night. He knew neither of them really meant what they said. Regardless. he had a feeling those words would haunt him forever, ruining moments like this. Moments where all he wants to do is be with the girl he loves and feel just that: Love. But he just didn't think he'd be able to ignore the sting of those words.

But today he would. He thought he'd lost her and now that he has her back he was not going to let himself dwell on what went down that night. Today he was going to hold her close.

…

By the time Anne's eyes fluttered open she was in Avonlea. Even without looking out of the window she could sense it in the way the sun poked through the trees as it rose and shone through her window; the carriage was making its way through the white way of delight. She caught a whiff of the mildew scent of the morning and knew instantly that It had been raining the night before. It was as if they'd driven straight into a daydream. Nothing like the nightmare she was stuck in just hours before

As she began to shift herself into an upright position she felt Gilbert's grip around her body grow tighter. As familiar as the setting was to her, the feel of Gilbert's arms around her wasn't. It was different now; It was softer before, loving. She used to feel like she was floating, going wherever the wind took them. His embrace was still loving, but it was more firm now. She felt close to earth and knew exactly where they were going. They were growing up, she realized.

He was barely awake. His tired eyes stared straight ahead of him, lost in thought. She was just now realizing how tired her Gil was. She'd only seen him like this once before, when his fathers life was coming to an end. He had the same lost and pained look in his eyes. The worst thing about it is that she knew she was the cause of such pain. She'd had him chasing her all over Prince Edward Island and he was finally out of breath.

Anne took his hand and Gilbert was jolted out of the thought he was in. He gave her a sleepy smile and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"Morning, Anne-Girl."

The low huskiness of his voice sent chills down her spine. She'd missed him.

"We're getting close to Green Gables. You should rest a few days before you return to classes. I'll explain it all to Miss Blackmore, don't worry."

Anne frowned. She knew he was trying to help but— "You don't have to do that, Gil."

Gilbert's jaw clenched and he turned his gaze towards his window and didn't say anything back. He was slipping back into his previous daze. "Gil, are you… is everything alright?" Anne asked in worry before she'd lose him to his mind again.

He leans forward and places a long and soft kiss on her forehead, then caresses her face with his thumb as he gazes into her eyes.

"Everything is perfect," He tells her.

…

Ka'kwet was tired of hearing Gilbert's name. "We need Gilbert" "When will Gilbert be back?" "What would Gilbert do?" She didn't know who this Gilbert was but she already had just about enough of him. And if they needed Gilbert so badly why didn't they go out and find him? She had a mind to go out and fetch this illusive, savior of all man-kind, Gilbert Blythe.

It should've been her.

It made her angry. The only person. they should've been thinking about was Peter, and here they were obsessing over someone that apparently didn't even live here anymore.

She knew she wasn't allowed to express her anger. Sam and Angelica were so scared, the only emotion she was allowed to express was comfort. Some might argue that it wasn't an emotion but Peter had taught her that it was. Peter had a way of emitting this sense of safety. Even when she had no idea what was going to happen she felt like it was going to be ok. He was comfort personified.

It should've been her.

"He is comfort," she corrected herself. Peter wasn't going anywhere. She didn't just believe it, she knew it. She wasn't going to let anything happen to him. She wasn't going to let down her new family like this.

It should've been her.

She just had to get these people to think about anything but that damned man's name.

she started to get up from the corner of the wall they were in when Sam's hand shot up and gripped her arm so hard she was sure it was going to leave a print.

"Where are you going?" He asked her.

"I'm going to see what I can do to help."

"What do you know about treating a gun wound?"

close to nothing, "I know enough."

"Don't go," Angelica cried.

This felt wrong. The way they held onto her like she was theirs. She wanted more than anything to belong to them, but they wanted someone like Peter. Someone who would hold them and tell them it was all going to be okay until it was over. They only wanted her because they couldn't have him. But he will be back soon and they will all have each other. Until then, it didn't feel right to try and take his place.

It should've been her.

"I'll come back soon."

…

Sebastian noted how frantic everyone in the room was, doing absolutely anything to try to keep this boy alive yet doing absolutely nothing at all. The boy went in and out of consciousness and when he was conscious all he did was scream bloody murder. The only thing Bash knew to do for the child was put honey on the wound in an attempt to sterilize. He tried looking in Gilbert's books but none of that made any sense and Elijah and his mother could barely read. Delphine had been crying for almost fifteen minutes and as scared as he was of how that would affect his child he was just a little more afraid to have to tell those kids the boy was not going to make it (especially the older girl with the frying pan). Their only hope was Gilbert. Not really, though, since Gilbert was miles away in Charlotte Town.

It appears there was no hope.

Bash figured he might as well go tend to Delphine when he ran into the scary child in the hallway.

"Are you leaving to fetch Gilbert?" She asked him.

"I'm leaving to tend to my child."

She did not like that answer. She looked at him like he'd said he was going to fetch some salt to pour on the wound.

"What about Peter?!"

"My mother and step-son are doing all they can—"

"Bull! They've done nothing!"

"Look, kid…"

"I'm not a kid! Your baby isn't dying, Peter is! Tend to him!"

"Child, I'm trying! I know nothing about medicine and neither do they! We are doing the best we can you ought to be grateful we-"

Wait. None of them knew anything about medicine. Why are they pretending they do?

" Go check on Delphine, I know what to do," He told the girl as he ran to put on his coat.

"Where in the hell are you off to?" His mother called from the other room.

"To fetch Miss Stacy."

"You're leaving to go see your breeze? As I'm slaving away,trying to keep this boy alive?!"

He should've known this was how his mother would react, "She could help!"

"What does a school teacher know about medicine?"

"A lot more than we do," He said, swinging the front door open.

Hazel followed him out of the door, "You only think about her nowadays! You leave your mother to care for your child everyday just to see another woman and now you're leaving to be with her again! Haven't you had enough of her last night?!"

"Mother, we don't have time to do this again! Get back in the house and watch the boy, I'll be back soon!"

"Sebas–"

"Mom!" Bash was sick of this. What kind of temerity did his mother have to try to control his life after not being in it for so long? For years Hazel had the decision to be the mother of those white children she worked with or his and she chose the white children every time. So he left the plantation and went to work. Made a life of his own. And now that he had a pretty good one she wanted to have a say in everything he did, who he talked to, even in the way he raised his child? No way. Her time for raising him was over, she'd missed it.

Hazel can see in his eyes this wasn't up for discussion. He was leaving to go see that white woman, and that was that. She could cook everything he eats, clean every inch of the house, even care for his child, yet nothing she said mattered.

Hazel hiked up her skirt and turned into the house, slamming the door behind her.

…

Muriel Stacy was always tired. There wasn't a time of day she didn't wish she was asleep. Unfortunately, the only time she wasn't tired was when she was in bed.

There she was now, Saturday morning, staring at the ceiling. After a long string of mornings and nights like this she'd learn to befriend the ceiling. She spoke to it like it was Jonah. Some nights she told it how much she missed him, other days she'd tell it all about the book she just couldn't put down that week. The ceiling was almost as good a listener as Jonah. Not even an inanimate object could imitate just how much Jonah would hang on to her every word.

Jonah and Muriel were the couple that was never supposed to happen. They'd gone to college together. Everyone knew Jonah to be someone who kept mostly to himself. He was wicked smart but no one would know. He'd never raise his hand in class, never really participate in class discussions, he was just there. Muriel was just the opposite. She'd grown up hearing what a pretty girl she was, but needed to learn when to stop talking. Any man who'd learn this about her would stay far away.

Muriel was sitting in her room one day when the house mother told her there was a gentleman caller here to see her. She'd never been more confused and when she saw it was Jonah Stacy she was even more confused.

"Afternoon, Muriel," He said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Afternoon…?" She couldn't help the perplexity in her voice, "Could I help you, Jonah?"

He took his hat off and looked at the ground, "I thought– I mean, you like walks, right?"

She had to laugh, "Is that even a question?" He seemed confused, "Yes. Yes, I like walks."

"Do you mind company? On your walks? Not company, with me? I mean— Can I accompany you on a walk?"

Muriel looked around. It was blisteringly cold and windy that day, "Right now?"

"No!" He said alarmingly fast, "No, I didn't mean that, I meant… We don't have to go now. We can go tomorrow. Or next week. Or–"

"Tomorrow sounds lovely," Muriel interrupted, "Do you enjoy early morning walks? They're my very favorite."

He seemed worried, "How early?"

Apparently it had been too early. She'd found him at the designated meeting spot leaning against a tree dozing off. She'd offered him the chance to go get some rest but he insisted. He didn't have much to say during the walk, but Muriel didn't mind. She'd talked his ear off about the trees and microorganisms and photosynthesis. Whenever she turned the conversation over to him with a question he'd only either mumble or shrug. By the end of the walk he'd excused himself so quickly, she was sure she was never going to see him again.

Strangely enough he was there the next morning standing next to the same tree. And again the next morning, and the next. The poor soul was always so dead tired, she'd started bringing him coffee.

How she wished she had a reason to wake up that Saturday morning. Since school wasn't in session that day, she was afraid she didn't have much of a life. It seemed she hadn't had one since Anne left for college. A curious thing.

There was a knock so loud on her door, she sat up in bed. She was almost too afraid to open it, as it seemed whoever was at her door may want to kill her.

The knocks persisted and she jumped out of bed for her robe, "Just a minute!" she called. When she got downstairs she had the mind to peer through the window before opening it. Sebastian?

"What are you doing here?" She asked once she'd opened the door.

"I'm so sorry to intrude, Ms Stacy, I— I didn't know who else to go to."

Muriel can sense the desperation in his voice, "What's happened?"

…

Gilbert dropped Anne off at Green Gables, where Marilla had been waiting for her. He wondered how on earth she could've known what'd happened without having to hear it from her, but he didn't want to interrupt the mother-daughter moment they were having with questions. He'd often used to think about how many of those they had together, seeing as Anne was adopted. Specifically during the time Anne was anxious to discover her lineage. Could it be that she was seeking a kind of love she'd only get from her real mother? But Gilbert understood now that there was no one alive that would love Anne like Marilla does and how Matthew did.

"Thank you, Gilbert," Marilla said through tears, "for bringing her back to me."

As nice as it was to hear it left an unsettling pit in his stomach he felt all the way back to the Blythe residence. Compared to the whole wave of people coming to Anne's rescue, Gilbert hadn't done much of anything. He never did. It was always Anne coming to his rescue. He thought back to the beginning of winter break when they were entertaining Delphine with one of her elaborate stories. She'd play the dashing hero and Gilbert was the damsel in distress. He hadn't realized just how accurate their little performance was. Anne was the hero in so many people's lives, she'd even come to save him the day of his father's funeral (she didn't exactly succeed but the sentiment wasn't lost on him). For some reason she felt like it was her responsibility to do the right thing when no one else did. It was one of her most wonderful qualities, but who would protect her when she was off protecting everyone else?

It clearly wasn't going to be him. He was much too weak.

It'd been a couple of minutes before he'd realized he'd arrived. He thanked the driver and sent him on his way. His plan was to spend a night here then head back to Toronto. He'd spend enough time away and even if renovations weren't quite done it was high time he got back to working on his future. He was starting to sense that "stuck" feeling he had when he moved back to Avonlea. But that was because of his apathetic teacher and the old fashioned culture he was living in. But he wasn't dealing with any of that anymore, so what was it that was keeping him from growing?

Gilbert opened the front door expecting to meet a surprised Hazel and an excited Delphine. He knew Bash would be working in the farm, maybe he'd go out and help him after he'g given Hazel the brief explanation he'd prepared on his way here; get his mind off some things or maybe get some things off his chest. Bash had a way of making his problems seem smaller.

Nothing went as expected.

Elijah's was the first face he saw when he walked through the door. He was headed quickly towards the kitchen with a bowl and cloth, then stopped in his tracks when he saw Gilbert.

"Gilbert?! What in the hell are you doin' here?"

There was an air of fear around the house, "What is going on here?" He took a look around for context clues, but nothing made sense. There were two children huddled up in a corner, the furnace was burning more than it had when Bash had discovered cold for the first time, and there was another little girl holding Delphine.

"Wait, are you–"

"Gilbert! Oh, thank heaven above!" Hazel exclaimed, running into the room.

"Hazel, what's happening?"

"Come, Gilbert, we need you," was all Hazel said before disappearing back into his father's room. Gilbert shrugged his jacket off as fast as he could and followed. In the room there was a boy, his shirt had been ripped off. His doctoral instincts kicked in and he checked the boy's pulse. It was barely there.

"How long has he been like this?"

"Elijah brought him in before sunup. He's been shot," Hazel explained, "We didn't know what to do, Bash said to use honey to clean up the wound and I told him that was crazy, but he didn't listen because he never does and—"

"You did good," Gilbert interrupted, "If you hadn't been there the boy wouldn't be alive now," he checked his temperature, "He's still way too cold for my liking. Any chance we can get the furnace burning hotter?"

"It's as hot as it goes," Elijah told him from the door frame, "I've got the bowl of hot water Hazel told me to fetch," He handed Gilbert the bowl and Gilbert took the cloth, squeezed it over his forehead, then placed it there. He looks over at the wound to assess and…

"Did you extract the bullet?" Hazel and Elijah look at each other in a way that told Gilbert they hadn't. "Hazel, bring me some whiskey to try and numb the pain. Elijah, I need something long and skinny to reach the bullet. Whatever you find, clean in and pour honey on it."

…

Ka'kwet was standing at the door to the room, holding delphine and watching everyone get to work. Everyone sprinted past her when Gilbert gave his orders like she wasn't there. As much as she tried to help the contrary, a flicker of hope ignited deep inside her. Hope had never gotten her anywhere before, but there was nothing else she could do now. Hope was all she had.

Gilbert got a hold of his tools and began trying to remove the bullet from his side while Hazel poured an unholy amount of rum in his mouth. As painful as the screams had been before it was nothing like this.

The child squirmed in her arms as she began to whine. She rocked her and shushed her quietly.

"Everything will be ok," she told herself.