Author's Note: Here's a story set during Anne of Green Gables: The Continuing Story. I'm focusing on Gilbert. AND, I'm pretending that the Anne film sequel was set in 1909 and 1910 rather than in 1902 and 1903, and that Anne and Gilbert married in the late fall of 1915; it makes writing about this third film so much simpler. Also pretend that Anne was really twenty-four years old instead of the nearly-thirty Megan Follows in the film. Please note that the italicized portions of this chapter and subsequent chapters are memories of Anne that Gilbert during the war "played over and over again in my mind until every detail was exactly as I remembered." That theme is sorta central to my story. Well, that's all for now. Please enjoy and review! ~SweetSinger2010

Together Apart

Prologue A—The First

Winter 1910

Kingsport

"The board of governors at the college just offered me a five-year contract."

Gilbert grinned, pleased for his friend. "That's wonderful! You've certainly won your way into the hearts of this affluent old town." His smile faltered just slightly and he paused. "You won't be lonely."

"I'll survive," Anne nodded in agreement. There was a momentary silence. Gilbert tried not to think about how the grey afternoon brought out the muted jewel-tints of Anne's eyes.

"Well, I ought to go," he said, jerking himself back to the conversation at hand. "The train leaves at 5:30."

"Oh, no. Really?"

Gil nodded. Abruptly: "Oh!" He hastily unbuttoned his coat pocket. "I was going to, ah," he pulled out an envelope and handed it to Anne, "mail this, but a note just isn't the same."

Anne beamed. "Thanks, Gil."

He stepped forward and embraced her, unable to resist, letting his face fall just as soon as she couldn't see.

"Good bye, Anne." He said roughly. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against him as she breathed. She swallowed hard.

"Good bye, Gil."

They parted. He looked into her eyes. The expression was unreadable.

"Don't forget me," he said strangely. He turned to leave as quickly as he could—he could feel the pain on his face that he didn't want her to see—but he paused on the gazebo's edge to look over his shoulder at her. Finally, he ran out into the rain, feeling just as he had those long months ago when she'd refused his hand. He was strangely anxious to leave her, afraid that he wouldn't be able to keep from telling her that he'd love her forever, whether she returned the affection or not.

And Gilbert almost believed that she did when, at 5:30 that evening, he leaned his head against the cold train window and saw her run out onto the platform, look around frantically, and call his name. He sprang out of his seat and sprinted onto the car's rear platform. He gripped the railing. Anne looked pale; had she been crying?

She waved her hand, the note he'd written tightly clutched.

"Thank you!"

He lifted his hand to wave and then picked at the edge of his hat, watching her intently as the train pulled away.

"Good bye," she called, forcing a smile. Her breath hung in the air.

"Good bye, Anne," he rejoined. They stood watching each other as the train gained speed. Gilbert thought he could see tears gather in her eyes, sparkling like diamonds. She waved again, then pressed the corner of the envelope to her lips.

Gilbert watched her until she disappeared into the inky darkness. He sighed, and slipped back into the railcar.

--

Late Autumn 1915

Carmody

The scene from five years ago flashed itself in Gilbert's mind as he stood on the rear platform of the train car. He almost smiled as he scanned the crowd for his wife. The routine had become a familiar one. Over the course of their long engagement, he and Anne had said many good-byes, had lingered a long time at train stations watching giant locomotives become only moving dots on the horizon. Anne liked to quote, "Parting is such sweet sorrow." Gilbert would laugh, kiss her nose, whisper promises in her ear as they left each other.

But today was not a day for laughter, or for promises. The newlyweds had woken together at dawn and silently wondered whether it was the last day they would have together before Eternity. They each had fears; Gilbert was of course more concerned about his wife's welfare than his own. They had been married two weeks, and he was leaving her, sacrificing what should have been the happiest time of their life together. It would be months before the war was over. Years, even. Would she be alright by herself? What about money? Would she have to go back to teaching school? Gilbert was secretly afraid that Anne would come to resent his decision to enlist as a doctor. She had been so resistant of it at the start.

Whatever Gilbert's fears, they were assuaged when he spotted Anne in the throng of people cheering as the special train bearing new enlistees pulled out of Carmody station. She took a few quick steps next to the car and easily mounted the platform on which Gilbert stood. He drew her close and they kissed passionately. Her fingers knotted in his hair, and he held her tightly around the waist, unwilling to let go. She kissed him once more, urgently, and touched their foreheads together. Gilbert felt bereft at the loss of her embrace as she carefully climbed down and stepped back on stationary ground. He stretched out his hand and she held tightly to it with both of hers, walking beside the train as it began to pick up speed. Gilbert looked deep in her eyes and took strength from the unfailing love, pride, and quiet courage shining there. Tears pricked his eyes. Anne released his hand and stood back. He saw her lips move, and she raised a hand.

Good bye.

Gilbert mouthed, I'll be back. I love you. He blinked furiously and cleared his throat, thick with emotion. From a small distance, he saw Anne's chin tremble, and she pressed a hand over her mouth, struggling to retain composure, to silence her sobs. Then she tossed her head, and waved again, smiling bravely; he knew that if she crumbled, she wasn't going to let him see it. Her entire attitude lately had been of fierce determination to "soldier on" for Gilbert's sake, and he knew it.

Now, he was not quite so resolved. Anne was out of sight, indistinguishable from other moving bodies and bright waving flags at the train station. Red earth began to flash past. A few tears rolled down his cheeks; he wasn't too proud to cry. He stood on the train's rear platform until it arrived in Charlottetown, memorizing every feature of the Canadian land he loved. He spotted the harbor, doleful gray. Later, as Prince Edward Island became only a vague outline on the horizon, Gilbert recalled his favorite memories of home. One in particular stood out. Twelve years ago, he'd fallen irrevocably in love.

--

"Hey, Diana, who's your friend?" Gilbert injected a taunting note into his voice on purpose. Diana was such an easy target. Her chin rose and she looked archly in his direction.

"Anne Shirley," she replied primly.

Gilbert caught the new girl's eyes for a split second. They were gauging him. Then her head turned forward and she bit her lower lip in concentration. The race started. Gilbert and Moody Spurgeon promptly tripped and fell in an awkward tangle of arms and legs as the two young ladies raced ahead and claimed first prize. Gil gave up trying to untie the scarf that bound his leg to Moody's and leaned back on his palms. He studied that Anne Shirley's profile. She was very pretty, he thought, in an unusual way. Nothing like any of the other Avonlea girls. Her smile and laughter were charming. She turned her head and caught him watching her. Mirth faded from her countenance and she pursed her lips. Gil smiled and nodded his congratulations, winked at her playfully. One of her fine eyebrows arched high and she lifted her chin in the air, tossing a glossy red braid over her shoulder. Turned her back on him. Gilbert laughed out loud at her stiff manner. But there was something fascinating about her. He was determined to know more of her, this strange, lovely girl who seemed to think him of little consequence.

Something fluttered in the pit of Gilbert's stomach. He'd befriend Anne Shirley if it was the last thing he did.

A/N: Well, what do you think? I myself am rather pleased with the outcome of this first part of the story. I'd love your feedback! Have a great day! ~SweetSinger2010