Anne admired the work of the upcoming summer as she took a bend in the road that cut through the woods. The warm sun was filtered by the canopy of trees, and she was glad for the coolness, despite her love of the weather.

The work, as in the fullness of the trees and the grand sweeps of growing flowers, made for one of the only things she liked about the walk to and from the Blythe farm. Luckily, Gilbert hadn't been around to tease her or anything. She just picked up what Marilla wanted from Sebastian.

Apples and honey sounded like a recipe for a fantastic treat, but Anne knew anything Marilla made was going to the church before her own belly. Still, she loved those apples. Whoever said they were the sweetest in Avonlea, they were right.

Anne had eaten a quick and small breakfast that morning in her rush to get to the barn and watch Belle's foal. She was regretting that now as her stomach growled loudly.

Marilla had asked for half a bushel of apples, but Anne couldn't help herself now from reaching into her cloth bag to take one now. She'd have to get more later in the week, but an extra trip there wasn't so bad –even at the thought of Gilbert's teasing.

As Anne bit into the apple, she knew she wasn't doing Gilbert fair justice. She still thought of him as the boy that had teased her all those years ago, but he truly wasn't like that anymore. She actually couldn't remember the last time he'd been actually mean to her. She could remember snapping at him, though.

She didn't know why she did it. She just did. When they got along, it was like music. But when they fell apart, it was more like sour notes. It was inevitable, Anne decided.

They were just too different.

Anne crunched on her apple as she cut deeper into the woods. She remembered now all the silly things she'd do when she first came to live here, like dawdling just to take off her boots and put her bare feet in the creek. She remembered wanting nothing more than to sleep in a tree.

At sixteen, it was almost embarrassing to think back on herself that way. She was still with whimsy, of course, but a refined type. She still used her imagination every day, she was just now more careful about who she shared those daydreams with.

Anne finished her apple and dropped the core onto the ground. A few steps later, Anne realized without the crunching rattling through her jaw, she could hear something else among the forest sounds.

Footsteps behind her. Anne looked over her shoulder, scanning the path. She then saw him a ways back. An older man walked hunched over, with a hat pulled down low. He wore a coat and scarf despite the time of year.

The man looked up to meet her gaze and then quickly looked back down. Anne smiled, as the shyness reminded her of Matthew.

"Sir? How are you today?" Anne called.

The man looked up again and walked quickly towards her. As he did so, Anne tried to place him but realized she did not know him. Her stomach swooped just slightly. Marilla was always telling her to watch out who she spoke to when she didn't know them.

"Miss. Hello." The man greeted. In the few short words, Anne thought she heard an accent, but she wasn't sure.

"Where are you going today, Sir?" Anne asked.

"You hair… love you hair." The man reached out to touch one of her braids, Anne found herself instinctively turn so that her hair fell away from his hand.

"Thank you." Anne didn't launch into her usual tale of having to learn to like its color. Instead, she just repeated again. "Where are you going?"

"Go…" The man looked up and pointed down the road before letting his outward arm trail down another road.

"Are you lost? I can see you're not from here. Where are you trying to go?" Anne started to walk and the man now walked beside her.

"Go… Go…" He seemed unsure, before nodding firmly. "Go to farm."

"Whose farm?" Anne asked. "Do you know the name? I could tell you which way-"

"You show me." He suddenly wrapped both arms around hers, almost the way she and Diana did when they walked together. "You show me…"

Anne's adrenaline kicked in as she realized this man wasn't as old as she thought. Either that, or he was just very strong. She felt muscles under his coat as he held onto her.

"Sir, I can't –" Anne nearly lost her footing, as she tried to tug away from him. "I really must get home –Please, Sir –"

This was not right, Anne just knew. He would not let go. He was talking again now, repeating that Anne show him the way, he was lost. Anne wasn't listening.

She pulled away a bit, but he held tight to her forearm, pulling her back in by it. Anne cried out in pain as he wrenched her arm. Her hat was slipping from her head and the bag of groceries swung where they were hug from her other arm.

"Let go of me!" Anne yelled, and one hand of his left before he held it back up. Anne gasped.

"Don't scream." He demanded, holding up a knife.

Anne's heart pounded, eyes wide as she watched the blade. It was larger than a pocket knife. It looked more like the type of knife she'd seen Matthew carve with. With only one of his hands on her, Anne desperately made a run for it.

The man grabbed at her arm again, and Anne fell. She felt her knees and elbows scrape the ground as she fell down. Apples pressed against her through the bag beneath her, but she rolled off of them as she tried to get up.

The man pressed down on top of her. She knew now that he was strong, maybe even young. Just one who'd gone grey early.

Anne screamed as and flailed her arms, kicking her legs as the man pushed her down onto her back. His leg pinned over hers, his knee landing on one of her hands, crushing her fingers. The other went over her other leg. Her other arm, still bruised from his grab, was pinned by his hand.

His free hand held the knife.

"Don't scream." He said again.

Anne began breathing fast, tears forming in her eyes. She squirmed, realizing now that, though done clumsily, he had managed to pin all of her limbs down.

"Don't scream." He repeated, softer now, as he brought the knife down. Anne watched with wide fearful eyes as he traced the point of the knife down one of her braids. He then began to whisper, "Such pretty hair."

Was he going to cut off her hair? Anne couldn't help but hope that was all he would do with the knife, despite the fact that it had taken her so long to grow it back out again.

"Please…" Anne felt the tears roll down her cheeks. "Please let me go."

The man didn't act as if he'd heard her. He just kept tracing the blade down her braid, muttering to himself about her hair. Anne took a chance and screamed again.

"Help! Help me!"

The man pressed the blade to Anne's throat. Anne went silent as she felt it pierce her skin. Heavy breaths shook her body.

"Do. Not. Scream." The man said firmly. "You scream. I kill you. Do you understand? I cut your throat, and you die. Do you understand?"

"…Y-Yes." Anne didn't dare say another word. The pain in her arms and legs wasn't there anymore. There was only the knife brushing her skin, brushing the chain of Diana's locket around her neck.

The man moved his knife-bearing hand out of her field of vision. He then pulled off his scarf and reached down. Anne gasped as he began to shove the waded cloth into her mouth. She gagged and coughed as the only thing was now the taste and smell of old wool.

"Pretty… pretty girl…" He went back to muttering as his free hand moved to her dress.

Anne wanted to fight. With only one hand of his holding her, she could maybe get out. But he has a knife. What if he chased her and knocked her down again. He could stab her.

If she screamed, he could stab her. Anne turned her head, feeling the scarf coming lose from her mouth. From this angle, she could see the bend in the road from the way she came. It was still a ways until that path broke clear of forest, though. And that way was just the school. No one would be there, now.

Just the school and Gilbert's house. Those were the closest things. Anne began to pray that Sebastian would come down the road. Maybe Anne forgot her change or something? Maybe he would come to see the foal, since she'd mentioned it.

But Bash never came to anywhere past Green Gables, for he was unwanted in much of town. Even then, he'd have no reason to come this way. Just as no one would have reason to come this way towards the school on a Saturday.

Anne felt the man's hand finally rough through her dress and touch her skin. A sick feeling spread through her. She didn't know what was happening, but she didn't like it. Her breathing grew more panicked, dislodging the scarf.

Though the scarf now fell from her mouth, she didn't dare scream. Anne felt him touching her, and she bit back sobs. She was just about to resign herself to her fate. Her body wanted to play dead, when she heard what sounded like footsteps coming from the other way.

Without thinking, Anne turned her head the other way and screamed at the person coming down the road.

"Help me!"

Anne felt the man trying now to climb off of her as the person ran over faster than Anne would have anticipated. The man got up and Anne tried to crawl away as the person tackled into the man.

Anne crawled back, eyes wide as she saw them struggle. Apples and a broken jar of honey littered the road. The two men yelled in their struggle, and Anne was able to recognize her savior at the same time that he stumbled back, a hand to his side with his eyes wide.

"Gilbert!" Anne screamed as Gilbert fell to his knees and the man began to run into the woods. "Gilbert!"

Anne crawled towards him as he rolled onto his back. He moaned and groaned, screaming as he took the hand from his side. Anne screamed too.

Blood was already spreading a large stain over his whole side, all leading from a dark gash. Anne felt her stomach turn again as panic spread through her.

"Oh my God, Gilbert. W-What do I do!?" Anne hands trembled.

Gilbert's head fell back onto the ground, his hands pressing to the wound. He seemed to be biting his lip to keep from screaming, but couldn't hold it in for long. Anne wanted to cry.

"I—I'm going to go get help!" Anne finally managed to get to her feet.

"Anne – Anne." Gilbert's voice shook, his eyes wide.

"I'll be right back!" Anne turned towards the way to his house.

"Anne –" Though his voice was too weak to be demanding, it compelled her to pause and look back. "A-Are… Are you…okay?"

"I'm fine." She told him, almost unable to believe he was asking now. Not letting him say anything else, Anne began to run towards Gilbert's house.

Anne had never run so fast in her life. Though her limbs were now sore in various places, she didn't seem to notice. There was only her pounding heart and pounding feet on the ground.

Anne cut through the field around the house and ran towards the door. Bash had been inside with Delphine when she'd stopped by earlier, but Anne could not waste a second, even if the baby was sleeping.

"Bash! Sebastian! Help!" Anne's throat went raw, her lungs already screaming for air as the run caught up with her. "Help!"

Sebastian burst through the door and came running, meeting her in the field. His eyes went right for her arms, and Anne knew by now that her knees and elbows were bleeding from her initial fall, but that was hardly important now.

"Anne, are –"

"It's Gilbert. He was stabbed." Anne was still panicking. "Th-There was a man with a knife, he –he stabbed him."

"What!?"

"Come on!" Anne grabbed his hand and tried to run back the way towards the road, but she saw Bash look back towards the house.

In that split second, Anne knew that them going would mean Delphine would be in the house alone, but she could not bring herself to think that was more important.

"He's bleeding! Please!" Anne begged and Bash nodded and followed her.

Anne felt dizzy with need to breath as she and Bash finally found where Gilbert lay. As they approached it, Anne kept wondering if they passed it. It felt so far back now that they were there.

"Gilbert, oh my God." Bash dropped down beside him.

Anne did the same, watching Gilbert's face. His eyes seemed unfocused, and Anne prayed that he would stay awake.

"Gilbert." Anne was crying now.

"Blythe? Eyes open, man. I'm gonna take you home." Bash went to pick him up, and Gilbert cried out in pain.

"You need something to stop the bleeding." Anne looked around wildly, hating that it was too warm for coats and scarves. That would be perfect—the scarf. Anne picked it up. "Here."

Bash rolled the scarf up and pressed the wad to the wound. Gilbert groaned but moved his hand to keep the cloth pressed and Bash picked him up.

"He needs a doctor." Bash said, his own voice rising with panic.

"The Mi'kmaq village." Anne breathed in realization.

"What?"

"They have a medicine woman. I'll be right back." Anne took off into the woods.

It was the only thing, she thought as she ran. The town doctor was miles and miles away, and she'd never make it there without a carriage.

She fell into line with the stream and soon saw signs of the fishermen Ka'kwet had once pointed out to her. Anne saw them up ahead at a wide part of the river, and she desperate called.

"Help, please!"

The men's eyes widened with fear and they began to back up. Anne knew the Mi'kmaq people did not like outsiders, and now they would have to accept her alone. Without Ka'kwet.

"Help me!" Anne waved her hands in plea, begging them not to leave. One of them noticed the blood on her and said something to the others. "Please!"

"You're hurt?" He asked in English.

"My friend. Please, I need your medicine woman's help. In your village, please." Anne said.

They all looked uncertain. The largest man, the one who knew some English, said something again to the others. Perhaps he was vouching for her. Perhaps he recognized her as Ka'kwet's friend.

"Please, he was hurt bad. Stabbed." Anne said.

"Stab?" The man asked, a serious look on his face.

"Stabbed." Anne desperately mimed the action of knife in and out. They all seemed to catch on, uneasy murmurs among them.

In the few seconds of their silence, with the only sounds her own panicked breathing and the rush of the river, Anne desperately wondered if Gilbert was even alive.

"Come with us." The large man said.

Anne had never come to the village from this way before, so she really did need their guidance. Still, she ran ahead of them. They began to run too, as maybe the gravity of it all began to dawn on them.

Anne saw the first line of the wigwams, and recognized them as the far side of the village that Anne did not get a chance to see. As they broke through the line of homes, many faces turned to her. Chatter broke out, whispers among each other. Other people only looked up a moment from their work.

Anne recognized Ka'kwet's father as he came towards them. The large man with Anne began to explain to him, pointing to Anne.

"Gesa'latl…" He was reporting. Anne felt sick with worry and wished they'd just let Anne take the medicine woman with her now.

"Your friend is hurt? In the woods?" He asked.

"Yes. A-At his house. I got someone to carry him home, but he needs stitches. He's very hurt."

Anne saw the medicine woman look at Ka'kwet's father in confusion. She seemed to be wondering why he wasn't getting them all ready to leave with urgency, ready to follow her lead. Anne wondered too.

"We cannot let our people go into your town." He said finally. "You have healers of your own."

"Please!" Anne began to cry again. The sight of tears on her face seemed to soften them. "Please, he'll die! He needs help right now! Please, I'm begging you!"

The medicine woman said something almost demanding towards them. Anne began to realize she wanted to help.

"Thank you, thank you!"

She nodded and disappeared back into the wigwam. She appeared a moment later with a hide bag of supplies. Ka'kwet's father took her arm and called back to those who had gathered, something in their language. Anne prayed it was something to keep any of them from protesting, but soon they were off.

The woman evidently did need a younger person's help. Unlike when she helped Moody, this was not a short journey, and it was all uneven ground. She had to hold the man's arm for most of it as they walked over the terrain.

Anne would run ahead and look back, watching the woman hurry best she could. She knew she couldn't beg the woman to hurry faster.

Finally, they were on the road. The way to Gilbert's house was clear. They kept up pace. The woman asked something of the man, and he translated.

"You said… stab? With a what?" He asked.

"He was stabbed with a knife." Anne told him, her voice shaking. "A man wanted to hurt him. A man we didn't know."

The woman asked something else and he translated.

"How deep is the wound?"

"I –I don't know." She admitted. "I couldn't really see it."

"Waqantew?" She asked Anne.

"What?"

"Is the bone showing?" He translated.

"Oh, God." Anne hadn't even thought of that. "I hope not."

The road finally emerged to the field of Blythe farm. Anne began to run ahead, only to stop and look back. The woman said something to Anne, nodding and pointing ahead. Anne took that to mean she could run on.

"Bash! Bash!" Anne had just called out as she run when the front door opened. Sebastian propped open the door and came to meet them. Anne saw blood all over Sebastian's clothes, and she somehow felt even sicker at the sight.

"He's bleeding bad." Sebastian reported to her, looking over to their guests. "You can help?"

"Show us who is hurt." The man said.

Anne let them all go in first, before following after them. Inside, Delphine was sitting up in her basket cooing, but Anne did not greet her.

Sebastian led the man and woman down the hall. Anne stayed in the living room, frozen. Her knees and elbows had stopped bleeding, but still sported bloody patches. Her dress and clothes were dirty, and her hat and Marilla's groceries were gone.

The weight of what the stranger was trying to do to her, did manage to do, felt as if it were finally on her, but she did not want to break from it. All she could think of was Gilbert dying, and that worry did not fade despite how weary she felt she was in her body.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Anne did not need to run. She did not need to hurry anywhere. Anne needed to wait, so she collapsed to sit on the floor.

And Anne waited.