Disclaimer: I don't own Waterloo Road or any of it's characters. I just made up the plot.

A/N: I loved the last series of Waterloo Road, ever since Rachel Mason joined the school I've been watching avidly. She's a brilliant and fascinating character who has really captured my imagination, hence most of my fics for this show will be centred around her. When I saw the first episode of the new series, I nearly squee'd the house down as Eddie tried to say how he was feeling but since then, all I've had going through my head is why, why she did what she did, why she's living with that scar, why she showed it to him when she's obviously so self-conscious about it. This fic is basically my answer to those questions and more. Hope you enjoy it, and please don't hesitate to tell me what you think; any suggestions are welcome!

Summary: Eddie's thoughts on Episode 1.

Infinite Complexity

Post Episode One

He hadn't been prepared. He realised that now. He had thought he was, any venture like the one he'd undertaken tonight had to have some sort of planning, but he'd been gravely mistaken when he'd convinced himself his plan would work. Shaking his head, he poured the rest of his beer down his throat, thinking bitterly that maybe he'd even been naïve. Eddie Lawson officially felt like a fool. He'd been so sure she felt the same. Maybe if he'd made a real move before the fire, rather than just asking her out for a vague drink so they could 'talk', she might have reacted differently but that was a useless thought now. He knew she'd picked up on his implication in the way he'd asked her before the end of term because she'd flushed a little and smiled in a flattered manner. She'd said yes then and Eddie believed if the end of term hadn't happened, something would have gone right for them that evening. But the fire had happened so he was left with what if's and the small possibility of finishing what he'd started when she eventually returned.

He'd known she was coming back this term, she'd told him there was no way she'd miss any more school time though he had to confess he'd had his doubts that she'd make it back by the time the start of the school year rolled round. He'd spent the last few weeks preparing a surprise for her just in case, because he wanted her return to be as special as she was and to show her that she was welcomed back by everyone. He wanted her to know there was no question in anyone's minds about whether she should take her place as Headmistress this year. Matt had been supportive, thankfully, and had helped out with organising the kids. If she'd not made it back that first day then they could have easily put it off, but… she had made it. The thought still made him smile, despite everything that had followed.

When he'd looked up at the sound of her amused voice this morning, his breath had caught slightly in his throat. She hadn't told him which day she was coming back, probably so she could surprise him, and he was glad there was still that feeling of easiness between them. She looked radiant, her smile bright and warm, bringing a similar one from him without any thought, but that wasn't why he was thinking about that moment just now. Before that second, he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed her at Waterloo Road. What with looking after the school and taking care of Michael on odd weekends, he'd only had time to acknowledge a vague feeling of being unsettled at the lack of her presence in his life, even though she'd only been an integral part of it for a couple of months before the end of term. He'd been around to check on her over her time off of course, both at the hospital and at home so the feeling of her not being there had been staggered but still, it really hit him just then. It reminded him of another time, just as impulsively happy.

That time had been a few weeks ago, on a routine visit to her bedside, one he made as often as he could, even if she might not know he was there. He was glad he'd done it though, as it meant he'd received a reward for his patience after a week of torturous silence from her. He had been there when she woke up from the coma. With a smile, Eddie remembered the way his heart had leapt when he felt the hand he had been holding, in an attempt to comfort himself that her hand was warm, clutch back and as it had done this morning, his breath hitched for a second as his eyes flew to her fluttering eyelids. The moment he could see into her caramel-coloured orbs, he felt the delighted smile steal across his face that he knew she might understand too much of but couldn't smother. He'd been so glad she was conscious and that he had been there to see her wake.

She'd squeezed his hand reassuringly, a soft smile also lifting her expression at the sight of him that only made his grin grow even wider, before she'd tried to take a deep breath and she started to cough. It was a shared moment of complete honesty; they were just glad to see each other. They had survived. Luckily, when she'd started to make signs of distress, a nurse had been passing by and was there in an instant to help but even the struggle Rachel went through afterwards could not take away the magic of those first few seconds when she had no defences and the simple beauty that she always possessed shone through to him.

Though he'd seen her a few times between then and today, they hadn't ventured into personal territory. She always wanted updates from school and she always asked questions about whatever he told her, he never seemed to include enough details for her, although he suspected it was a way to pre-empt their discussion turning in a different direction. She had made a steady habit of avoiding enquiries about her health with her usual skill, or when he pressed her for a real answer, ignoring them all together. Privately, Eddie had worried. He knew that the fire and what Hordley had done would affect her, change her in some ways, and it had but it was more than that. He'd seen today the knock her confidence had taken, the difference was occasionally startling; he almost didn't recognise her as the stunningly strident and un-shy woman who had so easily fitted into her role as Headteacher.

He hated Stuart Hordley more than he'd ever hated anyone in his life, not just for what he'd done to Rachel personally, but to the school and her reputation. And it hadn't been her fault his business had shut down, that had been Eddie. That guilt would stay with him for the rest of his life, that if he'd stayed quiet maybe Stuart would never have gone after her. But at the same time, he might not have been able to live with it without saying something, so it was a rock and a hard place situation. Eddie couldn't help but smirk a little as he thought of the split lip he'd given Hordley that one time. He'd deserved so much more than that but nonetheless it had been ever so satisfying. It hadn't even been what Hordley had said,

"I bet you love working for a two bit hooker. I bet she gives it to you for free." It had pissed him off, naturally, but it was the embarrassed and ashamed flush in Rachel's cheeks as he looked down at her that had made him turn around and sock the git. He'd wondered afterwards whether maybe she'd taken some happiness out of him defending her, because he'd seen the way her mouth curved slightly more upwards when Stuart left, hand hovering over his injury. He wished he could see the same expression on her face now. He'd realised afterwards just how far their relationship had developed, from him disliking her to begin with, thinking she was full of herself and intruding on his chance, to wanting to protect her, help her after only a few weeks of knowing her. He cared about her. Far much more than he'd admit to anyone. Hence why her current situation, the shaken and unsure body language, the fake smiles, were scaring him a little bit.

Of course, that loss of confidence and control in her now was only sometimes. Mostly she was as energetic and determined as ever, but it was as if her cover was slipping, revealing the inner scars she was trying so desperately to hide. But the mask was displaced enough for him to have cause for concern. Not about her ability; not for one minute did he ever think she wasn't in the right place or position, but he did wonder if maybe she was pushing herself and her recovery far too fast. She might think she needed to but the injury he'd seen tonight was going to take a long time to heal, both the visible and internal.

The way she'd equivocated over his earlier offer of a drink should have alerted him to the possibility that she wasn't in the right place to be approached as he'd been planning to. At the time, he'd attributed the "We'll see" answer to the presence of the Kelly kids in the next room, thinking maybe she didn't want them to know the staff went out for drinks, had a personal life, but now he knew she'd probably recognised again the intent in the question and was trying to warn him away from repeated his offer from before the end of term. She'd known what her answer would have to be before he'd even begun trying to phrase his thoughts. He just wished he had understood before pushing her as far as he had. It might have made their situation now less awkward. And yet, in the back of his mind, he knew he would have had to clear the air sooner or later.

With that, his thoughts turned once more to this evening and the enormous mess he'd made of everything. He'd been planning all day, what he would say, what he would do, in case he worked up the nerve, and when he'd finally said the words, they had come out very differently to how he'd thought. And still, it had all come to nothing. He should have known it would. He'd understood her confidence was low, he knew she was nervous because her past was now common knowledge but he had thought if he reassured her, told her what he honestly thought, insisted that no matter what, he cared for her, there was a chance she'd agree to what he was suggesting. He hadn't counted on the scars. From what he knew of the treatment she'd undergone already, various skin grafts and other procedures, he could see no reason why she should still have it unless she'd chosen to live with it.

He had to wonder why; he could tell from the way she'd shown him that she expected him to be just as disgusted with it as she obviously was herself. Then it occurred to him: maybe that was her way of punishing herself for the damage she perceived she'd done to Waterloo Road and the people there. In her mind, it must seem as if she was escaping a lot of punishment; she still had her job, what she loved most, and on the surface everything was continuing very much as it had been. He knew that was without considering a lot of issues that had come up and would come up for them this year but to her mind, maybe that's how she saw it. Perhaps she considered that keeping her scar was the only way to ease her guilt, for he knew she carried a great deal of it. Her words rang out in his mind,

"No, I just want to get going. I made a lot of promises when I came here and I haven't kept any of them." He'd tried to set her mind at rest on the subject but he didn't think his words had made any impact. He should have said he knew she wasn't supposed to be back at work yet, maybe then she would have listened. One of the times he'd called to see her at the hospital after she'd regained consciousness, he'd gone to tell her she still had a job but she'd been asleep, it had given him chance to have a word with her doctor to ask when she'd be back. The date the guy had given him was still a month away yet here she was, back and running at full steam. He'd also caught the unhappy way her doctor had used the word 'should' as if already anticipating his patient defying his advice. While the spirit that was all her feistiness made him smile again for only the second time in the last few weeks, the other time being this morning, a part of him wished she was better at taking guidance from those who had a right to give it.

Inevitably, at that thought, his mind turned to this afternoon and the incident with Denziel Kelly. He'd promised himself after the fire he'd never let her do that again – put herself in danger when she didn't need to be. He'd thought his stomach was going to split from churning with worry last time, yet the knowledge he'd almost lost her in that fire made this time all the worse. The possibility was more real because when he'd seen her being carried from that building, her body covered in dust and smoking slightly, he'd been convinced for a second that she was gone. Then he'd asked and they'd told him she was alive, and which hospital they were taking her to. Needless to say, he'd broken a couple of speed limits on the way there.

It was as he stood watching the front doors of the school this afternoon, waiting for some sign of what was happening, some noise that would tell him where Rachel was and whether she was ok, that he'd made up his mind about speaking to her of his feelings. He couldn't face this situation again without her knowing, if it ever repeated itself for God forbid a third time, even if she didn't feel the same, she had to know. When she'd emerged with the kid looking so outwardly calm, he'd tried to be angry with her but the fierce light in her eyes as she answered his reproach stopped the anger in his throat. It spoke of so many secrets, so many mysteries he didn't know or understand that made up so much of who she was.

Later, in her office, she'd shared a little of why she'd done as she had and he'd welcomed the insight. Any honesty from her about who she was or had been seemed a blessing. Even as he thought it, he knew it was ironic. To feel this strongly for someone whom you couldn't ever be sure was telling you the whole truth except on rare occasions when her eyes betrayed her, that couldn't be right, could it? She'd said she knew how it felt to be in over your head and not knowing where to turn, being so desperate to just survive that you'd do anything and he'd understood she was talking about her past. She didn't elaborate and he didn't ask her to, so a silence had fallen over them while they just drank their coffees. It hadn't been an awkward silence, he hadn't thought, just an accepting one. He pondered now perhaps whether he should have asked, she might have interpreted his silence as awkwardness over the subject even though he'd assured her so many times he didn't care what her profession used to be. Maybe if he'd just repeated himself one more time, things might have changed.

With a sigh, he recounted their brief venture into personal, his offer, her refusal that had been almost a dismissal. Then something occurred to him. She'd never said she didn't feel anything in return. She'd implied it, saying no usually did, but something about the regret he'd seen in her eyes as she'd tried to rebuff his insistence that he liked her despite everything told him maybe her lack of response was as much an admittance as his speech had been. It was as if her mind saw 'them' as an impossibility, not because of how either of them felt, but because of her position now, and the state of her mind and body. Surely that meant she did feel something in return? It could be just him clutching at straws; he admitted he was probably being far too optimistic but he wanted so much to get through to her! And he'd set himself a hard task. He'd never met anyone with so many layers of defences.

Usually, Eddie was a simple guy. He didn't over think like this. But he got the feeling that if he didn't make the effort now, he'd never understand her. She was as complex as she was beautiful and he didn't care what scars she had, inside or out. Rachel Mason was special. Far too special to let her get away. But wasn't that exactly what he had done? And here he was, back at the beginning. He hadn't been prepared for her running off; for some reason he'd thought she would stay once she'd shown him the injury, as if to make herself see the reaction in him, the revulsion she seemed to be counting on. Then she'd hurried past him, suddenly unable to bear seeing how he felt. He suspected her courage had failed her at the last minute. That in itself was a warning sign – the woman he'd known last year, who'd faced the whole school after they'd found out who she used to be, had never lost her nerve. She wasn't one who ran away from problems, if she were, she would never have come to Waterloo Road.

Whatever else came out of tonight, probably a headache he thought ruefully as he started another pint, he was more determined than ever not to give up on her. He would not approach her with his feelings again any time soon, he understood now she wasn't ready, though he couldn't help the part of his soul that practically ached to hold her and be with her, let her know that everything he'd told her tonight was true, he would not act on it. But he would watch out for her and look after her where she would let him. He drained his glass and in a flash, three words filled his mind. I love her.