Disclaimer: Salem and all its characters are property of WGN America and their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Anne

Written by Aindrea

As I approach my house, I notice that Mary Sibley herself is coming my way. When our eyes meet I bow my head lightly and break eye contact, not intending to stop, but she is quick to block my way. She glances at the small bottle in my hand. "A tonic? Reverend Mather is feeling unwell, I presume," her teasing voice makes my body shiver with displeasure.

"How–?"

She sneers. "Where else could he be but in your deadly grasp?"

I give her a small, calm smile. "I take good care of him."

"A devoted wife. I'm sure he is a happy man."

"I hope I can make him as happy as Mr. Sibley once was," my undisturbed tone accompanies my now pleased look.

Ms. Sibley raises a finger as if to shush me. "You are doing it almost right, girl," she pauses. "You see, men under their condition become bitter and somewhat fearless. It is our duty to teach them their new role," her eerie black pupils fixed on mine, yet I decide to remain silent.

The woman continues with her uncalled for explanation.

"They were born powerful, but the yoke of marriage has snatched everything from them," she nods once, knowing that I understand exactly what she means. "Even their free will."

I raise my eyebrows. "Different circumstances."

"Right. George soon understood it was best to let me handle things. Cotton, on the other hand, will never accept the fate you imposed on him," and so my attempt to dodge this useless conversation was rather ineffective. "He is a Mather after all."

But I can always find a polite way out. "My husband is waiting. If you excuse me, Ms. Sibley," not in the mood to bicker.

"Have a good day, Ms. Mather."

Before I move, she leaves, walking with her usual determined and graceful stride. My smile distorts its amicable softness into a scornful expression. I can almost savor the odor of stinging irritation.

I rush into the house and slam the door shut, locking it instinctively. How dare she? George Sibley is merely a weeping puppet serving her selfish goals.

I look out the window to make sure that she won't come back. I am safe. The evil creatures are out there, where they belong. My eyes wander around the house, studying the familiar place. That old home feeling is soon to fade into thin air. I miss my parents.

My nostalgia leads to a shy but comforting feeling of hope. My parents are gone, but I am a married woman now and Cotton should be walking around here with no ties. In due time he will accept our life together and he will be free.

I head upstairs with barely hesitant steps and make the wall disappear with a gesture of my hand after two failed attempts before reaching the room above. I wish this particular door didn't give in so easily.

I drag my eyes across the room and lay them on Cotton. He is in bed, but he's clearly not resting. He looks exhausted, as though willing to surrender.

Deplorable.

"Oh God," the sweet irony leaves an awful taste in my mouth as the name escapes my tense lips.

His fatigued gaze is far more haunting than I would like to admit.

"God?" he closes his eyes and exhales. "Does He ever listen to you?"

I put the bottle on a table and swallow my pain. After taking a deep breath, I approach the bed.

"What can I do to help you?" I sit next to him and take his cold hand in mine.

Misery slaps my face when his eyes meet mine.

He struggles, then says. "I hardly sleep anymore."

"I do try to make you feel as comfortable as possible," my voice is fading. "I know this is hard on you, but must I remind you that it is draining my life as well?"

"Your choice," his disappointment is unbearable.

"I didn't choose witchcraft. I have loathed the idea ever since I found out."

Despair is the poison that has polluted us both and it tortures us as it pleases.

"You should have told me," he chokes on words, then coughs some blood.

I carefully rearrange the pillow under his head.

"I feared your reaction. That you would act on impulse," I try to wipe his lips with the sleeve of my dress but he turns away.

"Am I to blame?" he says and takes a shallow breath.

I frown. "I am not evil," my eyes brim with sudden tears.

"Anne, your very soul is condemned."

"Don't be so unfair," I lower my eyes, unable to face his withering look.

His begging tone draws my attention though. "I dare not ask for anything except a solution."

"A solution?" this is the reaction I had been waiting for.

He nods weakly. "Would you do just one thing for me?"

"Name it," I kiss his hand with restrained care.

"Kill me."

The straightforward request, although short, shatters my world. He is not aware of the meaning behind those heartless words.

Cotton exhales heavily and adds in an inaudible whisper. "Please…"

I shake my head quickly and kiss his hand over and over again. "You are angry and you feel lost, I understand that," I stroke his hair. "But this is insane."

His burden weighs down on my shoulders as if it were my own.

"No other idea has tormented me this much," when I hear that, I press my forehead against his and squeeze my eyes shut. "Do it."

I pull away to look at him. "I—" I will instead tear that ridiculous idea from his troubled mind. "I shall never hurt you, husband."

"You and I have different views on it," the expression on his precious face reminds me of my decisions, but I would do it all again.

"You haven't taken the time to think all of this thoroughly. You—"

"Time is the only thing you left me. I have reflected on my precarious situation endlessly."

Is this some kind of a sick joke? "I will protect you."

Much to my surprise, he gathers the strength to yell, "I do not want you to do it!"

And so do I, "You are my husband!"

"By mistake! Things should not have happened this way!"

I am aware. "I told you, I needed you by my side."

His lips turn into a disdainful smile, "And I am by your side, against my will."

"Let me help you."

He manages to pull his hand away, "You are a witch. A threat."

"Something I didn't ask for," my voice breaks.

"Indeed, though dark magic is your ally. Granted by the Devil himself," his hoarse voice digs its claws deep into my chest.

Tears finally roll down my face. "This is crueler on me than it was ever on you."

Cotton frowns. "Did you or did you not put me under a demonic spell?"

I open my mouth to speak, but I utter no sound.

"There."

"You loved me already, you said it yourself," has he forgotten?

"That ungodly trick of yours is consuming whatever I feel for you."

"Love is stronger than anything else," I want to take his hand again, but I hold back.

"Is it?"

I insist with tenderness. "You must believe in our love."

"I don't know what to believe in anymore. I am a helpless witness of the Devil's infernal plans and you are a part of them."

Enough.

I stand and reach out for what I brought from the market. "You are confused and you need to rest."

"Stop it," his breathing fastens. "I am certain that you must know a way to extinguish my life in an instant."

I wipe my tears away. "Everything will be fine."

"I am dead anyway!"

"This will help you sleep," I take the bottle and open it.

"No, not again," he sobs. "Kill me! Kill me!"

I wave my hand to paralyze him. It breaks my heart.

"You have no idea how difficult this is for me," as I move my hand above his face, his mouth opens.

I let a couple of drops caress his pale lips. Only a few seconds later, his terrified eyes close and he relaxes.

"Sleep, my sweet Cotton," I lean in to kiss his forehead. "I will sort things out for the two of us."

I'm back! I'm sorry it took me this long but I'm back. I've been developing some new ideas and Anne is part of them. She became a very interesting character with so much potential.

I hope you enjoy!

This particular scene is set before Season 3 and I listened to the "Kill me" line in one of the teasers.

So there. Let me know what you think!

Aindrea