Anne wasted no time in moving Gilbert.

She wrapped her arms around his body, hooking them under his armpits and heaving him slowly across the ground. She had to get him to a bed, or something comfortable. She was still shaking, which made it hard to move the surprisingly heavy boy. Gilbert was lean and slim which made it strange to Anne that he weighed so much. She decided it must be the muscle he'd put on working all year on the steamer.

Anne kept looking down at the boy and his dark violet bruises and her heart ached with guilt and anger. How could Joseph do this? She knew he was cruel and insane but she couldn't even imagine being able to cause harm to another human, unless it was in self-defence. She felt so much responsibility for this attack.

Joseph would never have hurt Gilbert if it wasn't for her.

Anne finally reached the porch steps and dragged him one step at a time up. On the top step she stumbled and fell onto her back, Gilbert's head resting on her lap. He didn't even stir. She sat up and sighed, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached from the extertion and her wound still greatly pained her. Anne pushed her red hair out of her face. Anne forced herself to stand again and lifted Gilbert.

She dragged him across the porch to the front door, which she pushed until it came open. Anne was gasping now, her whole body begging for rest. She had to get Gilbert somewhere to lay, she couldn't think about herself. Anne didn't know where Gilbert's room was but as she entered the house into the dark kitchen she saw a bedroom to her left. That would have to do.

The room had a strangely unlived-in air to it, as though it had been lying dorment for some time. It was clean and well-kept but she could tell that nobody came in here besides to polish and dust. Anne wondered who's room it was. She heaved Gilbert up onto the bed, tripped on a floorboard and fell on top of him.

She looked up at his handsome face, felt his hard chest underneath her and his heartbeat soft against her hammering one. Anne caught her breath. She quickly pushed herself up and off of him, flushing bright red despite nobody being there to see it. She felt embarrassed for making such a fool of herself, even if she was the only witness. She also felt embarrassed for how loudly her heart was beating, and it wasn't from exhaustion it was from being so close to Gilbert.

Anne shook herself. Gilbert was just a friend. She was being silly.

Anne pulled the curtains closed, the fear that Joseph was still here present in her mind. She locked the front door and found a flannel in the kitchen. She doused it in a basin of cold water and took it to Gilbert, wrapping it around the bruised area and compressing it. Hopefully it would help with the bruising, but Anne had never seen anything so bad. He'd have to get proper help when they were both up to moving.

She gazed down at the boy and her heart dropped with remorse. She should have gone straight to Gilbert's farm, then perhaps she'd have been able to stop Joseph. Anne felt a lump in her throat and she let the tears come. She was tired of being strong constantly and never letting herself be vulnerable. She was so afraid all of the time and it was exhausting.

Anne sat in the dark room, sobbing quietly as she nursed Gilbert best she could.

...

It seemed like a long time before Gilbert finally woke up.

Anne had almost cried herself to sleep and was leaning on the bed beside him, her head against his side. Her hand was still on his neck, her fingers loosely holding the wet flannel. She had been listening to his ragged breathing and steady heartbeat and it had comforted her. Her eyes lay closed, her breath slightly uneven from crying.

When Gilbert opened his eyes the first thing he was aware of was the warmth of somebody lying against him. Then he noticed he was in his father's old room and his heart ached mournfully at the pained familiarity to it. He hardly ever went into his father's room those days.

Gilbert tried to sit up but he discovered a small red-head leaning on him. Her head was resting on his waist and her hand was close to his face, holding a cold compress against his skin. Her eyes were closed, red and wet with tears. He tried to speak.

"A...An...Anne." Gilbert's voice came out as barely a whisper. It hurt to speak and he stopped, wincing at the pain.

It all rushed back. The attack, Joseph catching him off guard and hurting him, threatening Anne before choking him unconscious. His neck was sore and tender, his voice hoarse and raspy. He could barely say a single word. Gilbert thought - Joseph didn't have to worry about him telling anymore, not in this condition.

"Gilbert?" Anne sat up slightly, looking up wide eyed at the dark-haired boy. "You're alright?"

"I... I c--can't--" He was visibly pained when he uttered even a single word.

"Don't speak, don't force yourself. You were hurt, your neck is bruised. Oh Gilbert, I'm so sorry." Anne was trembling again, her stormy eyes filling with tears. "This is all my fault, I'm so sorry. I caused this... Joseph only hurt you because of me and what I'd said..."

Gilbert shook his head. "Stop..." He managed to say.

She was getting hysterical and Gilbert desperately wanted to reassure her that it wasn't her fault but he didn't have the ability. His throat felt sore like it had been rung out and every time he breathed or spoke he felt a stab of pain. He reached up slowly to touch his neck and winced at the tender bruises that lay there.

Anne went to move her hand and the flannel from his neck but Gilbert caught it in his own and held it. Anne froze for a moment, looking up at him slowly. Gilbert just gazed at her, his chest stirring. He never got to be this close to Anne and it was making him feel lightheaded. Her grey eyes blinked rapidly, uncertainty hovering in her face.

"Anne..." He breathed, his words dragged from the torn voice that ached in his throat.

"Don't speak. You'll hurt yourself, Gilbert please--" She was stammering.

Gilbert could see that she was really shaken up, her fingers trembling slightly in his and her lip wobbling. Anne was grasping at her side with one hand, clearly pained from moving him. She was on the verge of crying again. She was trying to hold it together but Anne felt things more than the average person, she was overwhelmed by guilt and fear and anger. Gilbert wanted to comfort her desperately but words were unavailable to him so he did in the only way that he could.

Gilbert reached his other hand to the small of her back and pulled her gently down beside him. She lay hesitantly, not used to being welcomed into affectionate embraces. Gilbert held onto her hand, the wet flannel grasped inside hers, his other arm wrapped around her small body and stroking her back. She lay her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat again.

It took Anne quite a while to properly relax but when she did she felt safer than she'd felt in a very long time. There in the dark room, lying next to Gilbert as he held her gently. She felt very vulnerable at that time and Gilbert made her feel calm.

...

They lay that way for a long time, both of them resting before Anne finally gathered herself and sat up. Gilbert looked at the girl, slightly worried he'd upset her again. She was never an openly affectionate person with him so he wondered if he'd spooked her. But Anne only looked determined.

"You need to see a doctor. They need to make you better so that you can tell the new detective everything that happened." Anne said. "The detective barely listened to me when he interviewed me but maybe you'll be able to convince him of the truth. Everyone seems to like you."

Gilbert tried to sit up but he winced. He found himself barely able to move, his stomach aching painfully. He frowned and tugged up his flannel shirt to reveal his stomach blotched with dark bruises. Anne flushed at the sight of his skin, toned and strong. She had not seen a boy's stomach before and Gilbert's made her feel flustered.

"What did he do to you?" Anne asked.

Gilbert bit his lip. He found it so frustrating not being able to speak. He forced himself to formulate words despite the growing pain in his throat.

"Let's... just... go." He managed.

He forced himself to sit up, his face screwed up in pain. Anne watched, wide eyed. She wanted to help him somehow. She offered him her arm but he shrugged her off. He was just as stubborn as Anne sometimes. He didn't want to rely on Anne, he knew she was still wounded and struggled with moving. He could walk fine, it was just his stomach and his throat. There was also bruises up his arm too, which he felt as he leant on the wall. He decided not to mention those, as Anne would worry even more.

"Can I help?" Anne asked softly.

Gilbert shook his head. "You've... done... enough."

Gilbert tied the cold flannel around his neck like a thin scarf, hoping to help ease the ache of the bruises on their journey.

Anne followed Gilbert through the shadowy room to the kitchen. The closer they got to the front door the more she felt like pulling Gilbert back. What if Joseph was still out there? What if he'd been waiting for them this whole time? What if he was waiting to finish the job?

Gilbert turned, and found Anne still at the bedroom door, frozen in fear. She had that look plastered on her face that he'd seen before - it was awash with painful memories or thoughts. She often had it when she was triggered to relive time at the orphanage or in care.

"What's... wrong?" Gilbert asked, with concern.

Anne jerked from her daze, her big grey eyes focusing and meeting Gilbert's soft brown ones. He instantly grounded her, just looking at her and being close. Anne thought it was nice to be able to be vulnerable around somebody other than her family. She was used to being constantly shot down and bullied for showing any emotions but Gilbert had shown time and time again he was understanding and cared about her.

"W-what if he's still here?" Anne said so quietly that Gilbert almost didn't hear.

Gilbert moved to Anne and held out his hand slowly. He wasn't sure Anne would take it, but it was worth a shot. He couldn't say anything, it hurt too badly. But the gesture was enough. It said all he needed it too.

It said it doesn't matter if he is out there. We'll face him together. You're not alone.

Anne took Gilbert's hand.

...

Detective Ellwyn had been busy.

He'd already interviewed many of the townsfolk, people who knew Anne or people who might have been going through the woods that night. He also interviewed the Barry family, but their eldest daughter was at school at the time. He had noted that many people had reported things missing but had no idea who could have taken the things.

The detective had an idea of who it could be. The general opinion of Anne was that she had come from a very rough past, when she first came to Avonlea she had caused a lot of trouble and most people thought she was nosy and had a lot of opinions that weren't good for their town. None of them thought she was a bad person but not many of them were too impressed by her.

Detective Ellwyn decided next he would make his way to visit the Cuthberts. The Cuthbert siblings would be an interesting pair to interview and they'd provide much scope in his investigation of Anne.

...

The nearest doctor in Avonlea was retired, he was an old friend of John Blythe's and Gilbert directed Anne as they rode. He could barely speak but he pointed and gestured until she knew roughly where she was going. They had hooked up the old cart to Belle and set off in search of help. Gilbert was in a lot of pain still.

The doctor's name was Neill Rooke and his home was situated on the outskirts of Avonlea, not far from the main road. The fields surrounding the homestead - once crops or farm land - were overgrown and unkempt. Anne wondered the last time somebody had tended them. The house was white, with open windows and a large porch of neatly-grown plants. Anne absently thought the contrast in the plants and the crops in the field was strange.

They parked the cart outside the gate and Anne tied Belle to a post. She offered Gilbert her hand to get down but he shook his head. His stomach muscles were sore to move but he was determined to manage. He opened the gate and let Anne in first before closing it and they walked up the gravel path to the house.

When they reached the porch Anne knocked on the door.

Gilbert looked at the plants growing in the pots. "Truth." He said and pointed at a small white-flowering bush plant.

Anne smiled. In the orphanage she had found a book all about trees and plants and marked her favourite pages. She liked plants with old wive's tales attached. She loved the creativity and strange logic behind the stories. One of her favourites was Truth, the plant which Gilbert had gestured to. It was a harmless flower, which used to be believed to cause honesty in those who consumed it.

Anne was just about to tell Gilbert all of her thoughts about the pretty plant and the stories she'd read about it but their moment was broken and a smartly-dressed man in his forties answered the door. He looked at the pair expectantly, before realisation and recognition dawned upon seeing Gilbert.

"My Lord. John Blythe's boy, Gilbert. Of course!" He smiled. "What a pleasure. How can I help you?"

Gilbert pulled the cold flannel from around his neck wordlessly and the doctor's face fell as he took in the sight before him. The bruises were dreadful to behold and had darkened since the time Anne had found him.

"Come in, dear boy." He ushered them in at once.

The doctor lead the weary pair through the clean, tidy house. There were many book shelves of alphabetically-ordered tomes. Anne thought it was all very organised. She could tell the doctor was studious and professional. He seemed to be kind, too. Anne felt hopeful.

There was no sitting room, only a brightly-lit room with a patient's reclining chair and a table of tools and shelves of equipment and bottles. The doctor busied himself cleaning his hands and Gilbert hesitantly took a seat on the chair.

"What happened?" The doctor asked, eyeing up Gilbert to check for other visible injuries.

Gilbert tried to speak but Anne butted in. "Gilbert fell," She said hurriedly. "Against the table."

Gilbert looked at Anne incredulously. What was she doing? Why did she lie? Not even a believable lie at that. The doctor wasn't stupid, he knew all kinds of injuries from many years of experience. Perhaps it was because she was afraid to confess the truth again.

"He fell? Onto a table shaped like hands?" The doctor raised his eyebrow, rolling up his sleeves.

"Attacked." Gilbert rasped, shaking his head.

The doctor nodded slowly.

"I thought as much. These bruises are going to be very sensitive and painful for several weeks I'm afraid, so you'll be needing this salve applied twice a day." He handed Gilbert a pot off of his shelf and examined the boy's neck closer, his eyes not missing a thing. "Whoever did this to you had severely malicious intent. These marks were caused by applying great pressure."

Gilbert's eyes flickered to Anne's and she felt a shiver go down her spine. Malicious intent, he had that right. She thought about Diana at school. She was vulnerable to attack every second that she was alone. She prayed Diana was doing as she had asked and staying with people at all times.

"May I suggest - if you haven't done this already - telling somebody who did this? Somebody who can do something about it," Doctor Rooke suggested gently. "Perhaps the new detective who I hear is in town? If anyone can apprehend your attacker it will be a detective."

Anne bit her lip. She felt so much disappointment. The detective had been her last good hope of stopping Joseph and she had been utterly let down. The detective was an awful man who didn't trust anyone at their word and he probably wouldn't help anyone who was friends with Anne. They had to try though.

"We... will." Gilbert said slowly, his voice low and husky. He winced at every word.

"That's another thing -" Rooke clicked his fingers and pointed to Gilbert. "Voice rest. Don't talk unless absolutely necessary. Only speak when it's of the utmost importance. Your vocal cords, everything has been damaged."

Gilbert nodded. He looked at Anne for a moment, and there was a strange, soft look in his eyes. He looked like he was about to say something more, but he held it in. Anne felt shy again and flushed slightly.

"Lastly, what's happened to your ribs?" The doctor gestured to Gilbert's stomach. "I saw you wincing as you sat down. May I see?"

Gilbert slowly pulled up his flannel shirt again, baring his bruised stomach. Anne saw the way his muscles moved slowly and flexed as Gilbert stretched to show the doctor.

Doctor Rooke gently moved his fingers across Gilbert's stomach, feeling the tender skin. Gilbert gasped in pain and the doctor withdrew his touch. He tutted.

"Bruised ribs, I'm afraid. They'll take much longer to heal. More of the same salve will help, plenty of rest and food which is good for your bones. Fish and so on."

Gilbert looked pretty beaten down by that time and Anne felt terribly bad for him. She thought that the only thing on his mind at that time was rest and food. She was wrong, although she couldn't begin to guess what he was thinking.

"Well, if I'm honest I wasn't expecting a patient when you knocked," The doctor said. "I half expected some thief to come in and rob me, as that's what half the town is talking about."

Gilbert frowned. Anne felt her heart drop. "W-what do you mean?" She stammered.

"Well, people have been reporting things missing all over. Important valuables, gone." The doctor sighed. "I hear a lot, you know. You'd think people only come to the doctor's to get better but it seems they come for a dreadfully long talk about every single woe in their life, especially the ones which I can't fix. I should charge extra for that, I suppose..."

"Oh, do we need to pay you--?" Anne became flustered. She had no money on her.

The doctor instantly threw his hands up, shaking his head. "Of course not. An old family friend goes free of charge for my help."

"You're awfully kind." Anne smiled.

Gilbert nodded. "Thank... you..." His voice was a whisper. As he spoke he looked at Anne too.

"Don't thank me." The doctor smiled. "Voice rest, young man. Now, you two should be off. Don't shy away from reporting that terrible attacker of yours. There's enough trouble in Avonlea at the moment, without a dangerous person roaming the town as well."

Gilbert and Anne made their move, Anne profusely thanking the kindly doctor. They left the man in peace and as they were walking to the wagon, Gilbert thought about his pain and how desperately he didn't want Anne to suffer the same.

As Anne was getting into the wagon, Gilbert caught her hand. Anne looked down at him, surprised. Her red hair fell over her shoulder and he stared up at her in awe of her natural beauty for a moment. She didn't even know how beautiful she was.

"Joseph will never hurt you." He whispered.

After his experience of the brutality and rage of Joseph, Gilbert's fear of Anne being hurt had heightened enormously. Joseph's threat still hung in his mind and the fear of him lashing out if they told the truth to anyone was far more real after Gilbert's attack.

"Gilbert, it isn't your duty. It's not down to you." Anne said softly. Gilbert's fingers were cool on hers but his touch burned her skin and made her shiver.

"It is." Gilbert said quietly, his dark eyes showing determination.

Anne gazed at the boy and her head was light and she felt like her body could float. She didn't know quite what to say. Gilbert had been attacked and hurt for her and he just got right back up and promised to keep her safe all over again. He had no qualms when it came to protecting her.

"Please - you need to rest your voice, you can't speak unless it's of the utmost importance--" Anne tried to change the subject, turning away shyly.

Gilbert tugged her sleeve gently. She blinked and inhaled deeply, before meeting his eyes again. He looked deadly serious. Anne was not used to Gilbert being like this. He was usually so guarded and here he was showing his vulnerability. He wet his lips slowly, seemingly gathering his confidence before uttering the next words.

"You are of the utmost importance to me, Anne." His voice was deathly quiet but his words were firm and unmistakable.