Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The following days came in a whirlwind. Mr. Rubens accepted them as tenants without hesitation, and The LaCroix jumped at the opportunity of helping with the move. Bash arrived with Mary, who busied herself in the kitchen as Ella moved boxes of things and Gilbert and Bash furniture. By nightfall, they had a joyous dinner around the freshly assembled dinner table, surrounded by unopened boxes and pieces of furniture. The only other things assembled were the beds in each bedroom, and the trusty sofa bed in the living room where Gilbert would sleep, leaving his bedroom to his brother and his wife. They still had to buy furniture to have a proper guest bedroom and study.

Ella smiled as they shared the news of their new pregnancy with them (baby was due in late June) and told Fred over a text later in the night, when she was alone in the big bed she was meant to share with him in only a few days. They would get there in their own time, and she wouldn’t dwell on this. She busied herself with the reading she had due for the next class and didn’t think more about that, but about the job she was about to start in a couple of weeks. She was so nervous she didn’t even know how she would manage. She almost felt like an impostor, even if she knew rationally she had all the qualifications and experience they had been looking for.

A few days later, Fred came back from Germany to find a new house and very questionable groceries in the pantry. After declaring he wasn’t going to throw it away because he wasn’t one to throw food to the garbage, he proceeded to go to the supermarket alone and shop for everything he actually approved of. The following weeks he used the canned… stuff Gilbert and Ella had bought ( those weren’t ravioli) mixed in whatever he was preparing. He would leave the freezer meals for them to eat whenever he had a double shift. He had to compromise somewhere, as he repeated to himself.

The boys started their residences, their schedules so weird Ella stopped asking and just hung a calendar on the wall so they could mark whenever they were going to be home or not. She had done all-nighters as a student, and she was sure she would still do them from time to time now that she was about to start working for real, but this thing Fred and Gilbert were committing themselves to was mental and she both admired them and didn’t envy them in the slightest.

One day she finished her seminar and realized only later in the night that she was actually done with studying… at least for the foreseeable future. She didn’t even know how to feel about that, what seemed like the end of an era, but she didn’t have time to think much as her new job was much more demanding (and satisfying) than she could have imagined. All her fears were justified. It was hard . But it was so, so good.

And so, they all fell into a rhythm, not quite like the one they had had in Toronto, but that felt even better. They all felt liberated. Limitless. Like they could do anything, now that they were not in a vague path to what they wanted but in a very defined and intentional one. Ella was drafting plans that would be built , and visiting construction zones, and in general everything she had only imagined. Fred kept talking excitedly about everything he was learning, and gripping whatever sleep he could get when he wasn’t trying some new recipe just to clear his mind (and to leave a neat stack of three containers with each of their lunches). Her coworkers were slightly jealous of her healthy, colorful, yummy food. Gilbert was doing his thing to become an oncologist and taking way too many shifts more than needed, as Fred kept telling him, but he had always been obsessed with study, so it wasn’t really surprising the way he was pouring himself into his work. After all, that and exercise were his ways of ignoring reality, and he was incredibly methodical about that. Only her and Fred managed to keep something vaguely resembling balance in his life.

It felt good. Life was hectic, busy, and perfect.

It was one rare weekend afternoon of all three in the house. Or it would be, once they arrived. For some weird reason they were not going to question, they shared many shifts, so it was usual for them to go together and wait a bit for the other if necessary. There was no reason for them to take two cars, so they had been going together since the first days. At least when possible. She had picked one or the other sometimes on her way home from work, when one finished earlier. Or she had dropped them there, as she had done in the morning on her way to have brunch with Alicia in Toronto, who had finally come back for a weekend.

She heard the lock on the door and looked up just in time to see them go inside. They seemed to be discussing something and didn’t notice her at first as they took off shoes and layers of winter clothes. She walked to them.

“Hey guys,” she greeted. She kissed Fred’s cold lips and looked outside. It was snowing. Again. Even if it was March already. “How was work?” she asked. 

“So, you know Blythe insists on wearing this ridiculous ring?” Fred said. As she had imagined, his reaction to the whole scheme Gilbert had come up with to deter unsuspecting women from asking him out had been much more pronounced than hers. Telling Gilbert he had to stop clinging on to something unreal. To let go of the past. To actually focus on what he had, on the present, and not on some abstract idea. To seek help if he needed to, but to work towards being healthy. Needless to say, it hadn’t worked, Gilbert kept wearing the ridiculous band and now there was something about it.

“We’ve gone through it several times, Freddie,” she said, not wanting to go over the same discussion again. “Do you both want anything to drink? I’m divided between hot cocoa and gin and tonic, so please help me out of my indecision. I was actually waiting for you both for that.”

“I’ll have a whisky, but you have your gin, Ella,” Gilbert said, ignoring Fred. Ella nodded, and walked towards where they kept the bar things. 

“Oh, I’ll get the same as my husband ,” Fred said, rolling his eyes, sarcasm evident in his voice, interrupting her thoughts.

“What on earth are you talking about, Fred?” she asked, turning to look at him, confused and not knowing if that was meant to be a joke or not.

“Well, see the ring?” he said, motioning towards Gilbert’s left hand, who seemed to be fuming now that she paid more attention. At the very least, in a bad mood.

“Yes, the nonexistent wife ring, so?” she asked.

“People at the hospital might have decided we’re a couple,” Gilbert mumbled, his expression something she didn’t know if was actually angry or embarrassed, as he took glasses out, leaving a long one for Ella in front of her and going to the kitchen in search of ice.

“People what? Why? Because of your stupid ring?” she asked, curious, unbelieving, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, as she walked behind him to look for her tonic and other things. “Why are you married to Fred? If you’re going to have a partner, can’t you have some random one who just doesn’t work in the hospital? Do we have to share him?”

“Oh, you know I pack lunch every day for my husband here. And we drive together to work,” Fred rolled his eyes, serving the whiskey as Ella prepared her drink. “Blythe, no offense, but I couldn’t date you. Let alone marry you. You’re way too depressive. Good looking, sexy, kind, whatever, yes , but I wouldn’t date you. It would just not work. Ella exists, thank goodness. And no, Ella, you won’t share me, don’t be daft.” Clearly in a bad mood just thinking about the concept.

“Mate, I’m not even attracted to men. Even if I were, I wouldn’t go out with you either. I still don’t get how you stand him, Ella,” Gilbert said, receiving a glass from him. She laughed, putting some rosemary and a bit of honey on her drink. They moved to sit in the living room. “It doesn’t make any sense that they think that.”

“Well, you both live together, which is evident. As far as Fred made me understand he’s very clearly not straight,” Ella said. The two guys shook their heads. She frowned at them. “Honestly, I didn’t notice, and we’ve gone through that. I just lack understanding of people, so leave it. So, anyway, Fred isn’t straight, you’re brooding and mysterious and more private than anyone I’ve known, you both live together, as I said… And you wear a freaking wedding band, Gilbert,” she concluded, grabbing a throw and putting it over her crossed legs.

“See? People just look for the easiest solution to a question, as I’ve been telling you, Blythe.” It seemed this had been the discussion they had been having on their way home. 

“People think whatever they want, regardless of me wearing a ring or not. They would have reached the same conclusion even if I didn’t wear it. We just wouldn’t be married, just… dating or something,” Gilbert said, frustrated.

“Oh, I can propose if you want,” Fred mumbled, half amused, half exasperated, making Ella laugh again as she pictured Fred doing that just to prank Gilbert. “Do you want me to? You can get something shiny to go with your stupid band.”

“I do not want you, Wright. Drop it. It will die down, we can just correct them if they mention something and tell them my wife is in BC and we just live together because we want, and that you have Ella. It’s perfectly normal for a guy to live with friends.”

“It is normal,” Ella agreed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I agree as well, it’s not that what buggers me but Blythe here with his avoidance strategy,” Fred said. “I don’t even give a shit if people think we’re together, they’ll catch up with reality at some point and it will be hilarious. But Blythe, for fucks sake, take that thing off.”

“I am not taking it off. And they can think whatever they want, as long as I don’t have a trail of residents trying to go out with me. Listen, can we just drop the subject?” Gilbert said, his patience with the subject running short.

“You’ll take it off, you’ll see. Maybe not in a month. But you will, or I will take it off at some point.”

“I’ll take it off when it’s time,” Gilbert said. “And that’s not for you to decide.”

“No, but for me to remind you,” Fred agreed reluctantly. “And honestly, Ella. A hospital can make this story out of thin air in less than two months and you took what, five years to realize this and only when I gave a very evident hint to see if you could get the idea?”

“It’s not like I care if you like guys, Fred, not when you decided to give it a go with me. And before it was also irrelevant who you were going out with, if it wasn’t me,” she shrugged. She had a sip of her drink. “And be honest, you could do much worse than Gilbert as a husband. He’s good husband material, committed beyond sensible reason, intelligent, good looking…” she teased, making Gibert throw her a pillow. She managed to get the glass out of the way just in time. Fred snorted.

“Clearly not the change of subject I was quite aiming for,” Gilbert said, but he was laughing as well.

Only a couple of days had gone by when Ella found herself with a free lunch hour close to the hospital as one client canceled. She could go back to the house and look for whatever leftovers there were… Or she could eat out before going back to the office. Eat out won. If she was lucky…

**Ella @Musketeers (12:10): Hey hey the two husbands. Is any of you free to have lunch? I’m about three blocks away and hungry.

**Freddie @Musketeers (12:10): I was just walking to the cafeteria. Do you want me to get you something while you get here? I don’t know about the hubby.

**Ella @Musketeers (12:11): I’ll get something when I get there. You would get me something boring :(

**Gilbert @Musketeers (12:11): omw, I’ll be there in five. And both of you- drop it. It’s no longer fun and they keep asking me about Fred and if we will consider adoption or a surrogate once we finish this residence. Mental.

Ella snorted. That hospital, apparently, was full of gossip. With nothing to do. Or a great urge to find distraction in mundane things when they were forced to spend way too many hours awake. Probably that was the reason? Sleep-deprived entertainment? She entered the building and looked at the signs. She hadn’t been there before, so she tried to get an idea of where she stood and soon saw a sign for the cafeteria. Taking her coat off, she started walking in that direction.

“Ella!” she heard, and turned in time to see Gilbert coming down some stairs, a container in his hand. Fred had prepared a salad that actually looked interesting, with some salmon mixed in. She knew he would have left the capers out of hers if she had asked. She waited for him.

“I hadn’t seen you in full doctor costume,” she mentioned. “Do you really have to wear pajamas?”

“They’re scrubs, and they’re useful,” he replied. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t say much. Fred also had to wear that. Very, very occasionally, it would seem, since he hadn’t even looked for the box they were stored in since the move from Toronto. She kind of believed it was on the back of the closet. Unreachable.

“So, you’re still getting comments about your married life?” she asked, teasing, as they walked together. Gilbert shook his head, exasperated.

“Honestly, I just want to be left alone. Why are our lives a topic of conversation at all here? Anywhere, for that matter?” he asked, frustrated. He had been annoyed about the topic since that first day. “People really should find something to do, it’s not even appropriate, going around asking people stuff like that.”

“Clearly you don’t have older ladies around. Anyway, I can try to make it stop, if you want,” she proposed, an idea forming in her mind, the cafeteria now in sight. She didn’t particularly want to put on a show, and knew if she really thought it through she wouldn’t go ahead with it. But Gilbert was miserable as Fred kept teasing him, thinking maybe he would stop with the ring charade if it got too much, and he kept receiving comments from all fronts. And she knew Gilbert. He wouldn’t take the ring off, Fred wouldn’t stop teasing... It was just exhausting for the three of them. Gilbert looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “You would owe me big time,” she said, trying to focus on her friend’s wellbeing and ignoring the doubts that were already starting to creep into her.

“Ok…?” Gilbert said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Just trust me? I do have advantages you don’t,” she insisted, playing distractedly with her purse.

“Whatever you say, Ella,” he said, clearly not having much to lose. “Did you bring anything? I know you said to Fred not to prepare you lunch, yet here you are.”

“Last minute cancellation of the lunch meeting, so here you have me. What’s good to eat here?” she asked, willing to distract herself. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it head on and she would only think about the consequences later. And she didn’t know anyone in the hospital, which was the smallest relief, but… some relief, at least?

“It’s a hospital. Half the stuff is bland, the other half is super unhealthy. Take your pick,” he said, walking with her to the cashier. She eyed critically the options.

“If he’ll have a fit with my choice, let him have it fully,” she said to Gilbert. And she would need comfort food if she was going to do this. Then she looked at the cashier. “Hi! Can I have a cheeseburger with some fries and a chocolate sundae, please?” She paid, received the buzzer thingy that would tell her when her meal was ready and they walked towards the table where Fred was sitting, the container with the salad still closed as he checked his phone.

“He’ll lecture you,” Gilbert warned her and she shrugged.

“He can lecture me. It will take attention off your ring for once. Or do you want him still talking to you about that?” she said to Gilbert. 

“Please, have something more to eat. A slice of pizza, perhaps?” he laughed. “Hey, Fred.”

“Hey, Blythe,” Fred said. “Hey, love. What happened to your meeting?”

“Canceled. Something about an emergency at school or something. I don’t mind, we can go over those things in a call anyway, she’s the one who insisted on lunch in the first place,” she replied, leaving her coat on the empty chair with her purse, looking around. “So, enough of your residence mates around here? Or the gossips who married you?”

“Enough for what? Aren’t you sitting?” Fred asked, frowning slightly as Gilbert opened the container.

“The people that insist you’re married to Gilbert,” she said. Fred looked at Gilbert, who shrugged, and then gave a quick look around and back at her. 

“I suppose some people, yes. There’s the group from surgery that just won’t shut up. What’s on your mind?” Fred said, narrowing his eyes as if he seemed to realize Ella was plotting something, but she got distracted as the buzzer rang, making her jump. She was nervous. Why was she nervous?

“Ok, I’ll be right back, then,” she said, leaving them hurriedly.

“What’s gotten into her?” Fred asked Gilbert, who just shrugged again as he was taking a bite. He had been curious about the salmon since he had seen Fred prepare it, and had said as much. “Let me know if I seasoned that right? I’m still learning how to cure it. I don’t know if it’s too salty.”

“No, it’s quite good,” Gilbert said after swallowing. He left the fork to the side, waiting for Ella, who was coming back with her lunch, looking intently at her tray and the path she was taking to the table and nowhere else.

“Did she really get that?” Fred said, frowning, moving the chair slightly to get a better look at her. Was that why she was nervous? Because of a mountain of junk food? “Honestly, I can prepare her burgers if she wants, but I doubt there’s anything reasonable in there…” By then, he knew Ella favored sweet, processed food and he had come to terms with that, but he preferred to prepare things at home when possible. At least he knew what kind of meat they were eating. And his burgers were nice, honestly.

“Don’t look at me, she’s an independent being. I did warn her you would say something,” Gilbert said as Ella arrived and carefully left the tray on the table. Fred was still looking at her (and her food, if that sad looking burger could even be called that), Gilbert replying to some message in his phone and frowning deeply. She took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Ready?” Ella asked, looking slightly anxious.

“What on earth for, love?” Fred asked, confused by her general attitude. Sadly, not surprised by her lunch. He could tell she was still nervous, so probably not the junk food? Why would be she nervous about that, anyway? She always ate whatever she wanted and only had some healthier things because that’s what he cooked at home. “See you malnourish yourself?”

“Let's break you up with the husband, eh?” she said hurriedly, winking nervously, before kissing him deeply, standing in between his legs and lowering to his level, her hands burying in his hair.

They had never been into public displays of anything. If there was anyone around, the most they ever did was… hold hands and maybe a peck? Hug? She had never felt comfortable with them, and he couldn’t care either way- whatever people thought wasn’t his problem, as far as he was concerned. But he was all about meeting her wherever she felt comfortable. And this kiss, this wasn’t on her comfort level, his mind kind of reasoned as he felt her warm lips, her fingers holding him there. He knew that. Heck, he doubted even Blythe had seen them kiss like this, and he lived with them. He wasn’t even sure about having kissed anyone outside of the dark corner of a bar (or a room) like that, if he didn’t count Alex and their teen hormones.

And she was actually deepening it? Even more ? He felt his blood rushing and he knew he was getting turned on much more than he ever had in any public space, and Ella couldn’t possibly be comfortable with what she was doing, but maybe could he sneak her into an on-call room and lock the door? For once, he tried to tone it down. There was no way Ella was actually doing this on purpose. And he couldn’t get any more turned on.Think about something else. The morgue smell.

“You’re ok, love?” he asked softly, his voice very quiet, completely taken aback by whatever this was. Shaken. Horribly turned on in the hospital cafeteria, of all places with a very short and defined lunch hour. But he wasn’t going to pay attention to that. He needed to think about anything different. The morgue smell, the lights and smells of the OR. Yes, that was better than thinking about… What had gotten into her, was she ok? He let a shaky breath out, looking at her pink, moist lips, considering if it was worth just getting late to the rest of his shift, but what the fuck, Ella? Operating room, morgue, that racoon decomposing next to the trail when they took a walk the past weekend. 

“I’m pretty sure no one will think you’re Gilbert’s husband anymore,” she said very quietly, breathless, her cheeks brightly red, sitting down, her hair slightly moussed too, even if he didn’t even remember his hands on it. Operating room, morgue, that racoon decomposing next to the trail when they took a walk the past weekend, his great aunt in a swimming dress offering him Ella’s last cooking experiment. He left out a laugh, suddenly understanding her scheme, but not quite believing she had done that. He shuffled on the chair, uncomfortable, as Ella sat next to him, her eyes glued to the table. She had actually done this, and she didn’t know if to feel proud, exposed or embarrassed. She spared a quick glance at Fred, his cheeks with a slight rosy tint, his hair messier than usual, not that he ever had a particularly neat hairstyle, anyway, always keeping it short but letting it do its thing. Gilbert was looking at them, wide eyes, fork forgotten in his hand, still a bit of salmon in it.

“Can we count on the girls from surgery to spread word of this?” Fred asked Blythe. She breathed deeply. Gilbert coughed a little, clearing his throat before speaking.

“I think we can count on everyone in the hospital having lunch about now to spread the word of that ,” Gilbert said, his hand going to his nape in that annoying habit but neither had the will to say anything.

“You owe me big, Gilbert,” Ella said instead, her eyes still fixed on her tray, her whole face bright red. She really, really didn’t want to look around. Or even up from her lunch. She felt everyone was staring, and she didn’t want to confirm it. Fred extended his hand, holding hers gently. She looked at him reluctantly, a lopsided smile on his face. “You too, Freddie. You can’t even comment on my lunch today. Ok?”

“You should come here for lunch more often,” he said, still smiling. Now that he understood why she had done it, he wasn’t worried anymore. Ella could be fiercely protective of Gilbert and he knew this was just one more way to go about it, and hey, he had enjoyed it. Kind of. Probably he would have enjoyed it more if she had given him some kind of heads up so he wouldn’t worry as she snogged him senseless, but who was he to complain? “Ok, I won’t comment on it.”

“Thank you,” she said, opening a ketchup package. They ate in silence for a moment, Fred still shaking his head in disbelief of the whole thing, the smile not leaving him as he ate his salad. He would have never imagined Ella pulling that off, and it seemed like she didn’t believe it either. Gilbert continued texting as he ate once his shock wore down, his frown more and more deep.

“Blythe, what’s up with you now?” Fred finally asked. “I thought you did want the divorce.”

“What?” he looked up. “Yes, I did. And honestly, thank you, Ella. You didn’t have to go that far.”

“That is way more definitive than you both making up stories. Unless they start believing we have some kind of trio, it should be enough,” she said, feeling better now that she was eating. Food was always comforting. “Please, you both manage to not stay together from now on.”

“I’ll do my best, but if that’s your way of breaking us up, I’m not sure how successful I want to be, Fred said, smiling at her and then turning to Gilbert once more as Ella snorted. “Blythe, what is going on?” Their friend finished writing a message and sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Blythe.”

“It’s… it should be nothing, really,” he finally said, taking his fork again. Fred raised an eyebrow.

“Yet somehow it is. You’re frowning a lot. What happened?” Ella asked, glad for a change in the subject.

“Anne…” Gilbert said. Ella bit down a comment, because with every passing year she lost more and more patience with this abstract person Gilbert was so hung up upon. She actually wanted to meet the girl- did she have superpowers or what? “She’s moving to BC. Got a job as a teacher in some sort of fancy school.”

“And that has you frowning, because…?” Ella said, not understanding why that affected him.

“Because this sap is thinking he had a perfectly fine residence over there and is rethinking every decision he’s made since he received that letter,” Fred explained. Gibert made a sign in agreement. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Blythe. You’ve gone to that island every year for five years. She’s been there every time you’ve gone. Yet, she’s managed to completely avoid you every single time. Changing provinces wouldn’t change that.”

“But maybe… I mean, some years have passed, maybe if we met again now it would be different, you know?”

“Look, Gilbert, and please correct me if I’m wrong, but from what I understand she couldn’t stand being in the same room as you,” Ella said cautiously. “I doubt being in the same province would change anything, as Fred says. It’s probably even better that you’re here, and not over there trying to accidentally meet her and really just stalking her. Stalking is plain creepy.”

“I wouldn’t stalk her,” he defended himself. Ella looked pointedly at him. “Ok, not on purpose.”

“Blythe, it is time to let go. You’re starting this huge time in your life, enjoy it, for once. Let go of the past. After five years, I feel you’ve paid your dues, no?” Fred asked. 

“I don’t know, Fred,” Gilbert replied, looking at the salad. Ella reached to him, and squeezed his hand. Gilbert looked at her and she smiled softly.

“Even if you’re a martyr and decide to keep paying them- we’re here for you. You wouldn’t have your family in BC. And you get to tease Fred in person here,” she added, making him chuckle sadly.

It was an early spring morning. Sunday, and Fred didn’t have to go to the hospital for once, so they were cuddling in bed. Ella had graduated some weeks ago, the brief visit from her parents as tense as her worst nightmares could have conjured. Having gone back to Fred after her semester abroad seemed to be taken as a personal insult by both her parents, and their indirects about her life not subtle in the least. Considering those indirects was giving them too much credit. She had ended the day feeling frustrated and drained, Fred in a bad mood after having felt the need to explain to deaf ears over and over that they weren’t taking things lightly, that they actually were responsible, that… It hadn’t worked.

It kind of amazed her how  living with Fred and actually pursuing things she believed in was the thing that was bringing her parents together again. Not together as in they were a couple (but maybe if they had sex they would get their frustration out in a way that didn’t involve belittling her, Fred had pointed), but together in that they seemed to have a weird goal she wasn’t sure what was. Her breaking up with Fred? Impossible. Her moving alone? Just not happening. Accepting the stupid job in Germany? It wasn’t an option.

She sighed, tired of thinking about her family. It was exhausting, and for all of her, she couldn't see any kind of solution. Not a real one. It wasn’t like she could turn back time, not live with Fred and Gilbert, have her boyfriend believe in some religion ( any was better than none in her parents’ eyes) and them marry before living together (or having sex, but that was something that went even further back, even if her parents were still in denial). Fred wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“How’s the thing with you and Gilbert in the hospital? You guys are still married after the stunt we pulled off?” she asked Fred, looking for anything to talk about that kept her mind off her parents. He looked at her for a second, smiling wickedly.

“The stunt you pulled off, you mean. I was just… the unsuspecting victim, not that I’m complaining,” he said, still smiling. Ella rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I think they’re finally starting to believe he has a wife somewhere remote and I’m not with him. Why? Does it bother you?” he replied. “That’s why you did that, Ella?” he asked, suddenly worried, his body tensing. It had been really out of character for her.

“Of course no. There’s no reason for that to bother me, I just find it hilarious,” she replied honestly, and he relaxed. “I just remembered. And I did that because Gilbert looked miserable and your patience does have limits, even if they’re way into the horizon. Does it bother you , Freddie?”

“What, your stunt? I thought I made it clear that night,” he chuckled, making her blush brightly. That particular day at the hospital had proved to be so, so long. A test on his patience.

“Not that, the… you and Gilbert being a couple nonsense,” Ella insisted. As if he didn’t know what she was talking about, but he wanted a couple of seconds more to think and her blush was so, so worth it.

“I…” he started, but cut himself, trying to organize his thoughts. He knew Ella understood where they stood, and that this was some nonsense without any solid ground. Had that rumor been with anyone that wasn’t Blythe, the story probably would have been much different. But it wasn’t the case, and if he was honest, he didn’t mind it. It had just given him the perfect excuse to keep pestering Blythe about the ring, to see if he would take it off. At least until Ella had gone to lunch. “It’s not the fact that they put us together. I don’t care about that, and actually find some humor in it. My problem is more with that blasted ring than anything else.”

“That thing is ridiculous,” she agreed. “But you teasing him will accomplish nothing. You know he’s stubborn.”

“It’s not just ridiculous, it’s how… unhealthy the whole thing is, but he just shuts down if I try to bring it up. So I don’t, anymore, not since then,” Fred said, leaning back on the pillow and looking up. She looked up from his chest and saw him frowning, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “The worst thing is, it has been pretty effective. No one has asked him out. Or me, for that matter. Well, now even less, everyone talked about you for days.”

“People usually ask you out?” she asked curiously, trying to ignore his comment. She didn’t have any problem with the idea of Fred and Gilbert being seen as a couple, since she knew very well how the fact didn’t have any root and she trusted both of them with her life. But Fred being pestered by random people wasn’t something that had ever crossed her mind, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Not because she thought he would ever go back to who he had been years before, but… just the general idea.

“Nah, not much. I’m not as mysteriously good looking as Blythe,” he explained. “But it used to happen once in a while in Toronto… And suddenly, nothing. Again, I’m not complaining.”

“You’re good looking,” she countered, making him laugh. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so, love. But if we’re being honest, Blythe and his exercise obsession get the prize. And then he’s all moody and depressive and for some reason people find that attractive,” he explained. “Like they can save him from whatever he is going through, which we know doesn't seem to be possible. Anyway, if someone even gets an idea I tell them right away I’m with you and have zero interest in going back to the gallivanting lifestyle of my early twenties.”

“Gallivanting lifestyle? That’s how you call it?” she giggled, propping herself up a bit to look at him.

“They can think whatever they want,” Fred replied, laughing, hugging her close and kissing the top of her head. They stayed in silence for a while. “So, how do you feel these days? Now that  you’re an official graduate and everything?” Ella went to lay on her side and Fred did the same, so that they were facing each other. She smiled. They had chats like this once in a while, either initiated by her and her anxiety, or by Fred and his seemingly eternal calm. Sometimes whoever initiated it had a goal in mind… like her feeling calmer about what they were doing, or checking in with their goals, or actually setting them. Other times, it was just nice to take an actual moment and see how they were doing.

“I feel like everything is good,” she declared. “There were times in the past year… I know why we do things, and I have the goals we have set up for ourselves in mind and everything, but sometimes they seem so far away, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. That last year before starting the residence dragged on forever ,” Fred agreed. “I’m so glad it’s over and I don’t have to perform any surgeries in the foreseeable future. I hate cutting people open.”

“You have said a thousand times it’s good and necessary,” she countered.

“Well, yes, doesn’t mean I have to do it,” he said, defensively. He couldn’t stand the smell of the operating room, or that horrible soap. “So, you were saying, everything seemed so far away… what about now?”

“I already told you. Everything is good. It’s like…” she stopped to think for a moment. “Like we were in progress about so many things, like when you have this huge to-do list, and suddenly you reach a time when you start checking off item after item.”

“Yeah, does feel like it sometimes,” Fred agreed.

“So you’re starting your residence. We both graduated… I mean, you’re not a psychiatrist yet, but you’re a real doctor now and everything, the diploma says so,” she said, making him laugh. He seemed about to say something, but in the end let her continue. “I am working in a place I am finding fulfilling so far. We’re finally able to save for a house… I do get we’re not buying it next year, but maybe in three years or so? Maybe four?”

“You and your budgets, love,” Fred said, full of fondness in his voice. “With how you set up our goals, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if we managed to get one before. It’s not like we’re aiming for a monstrosity.”

“Of course not, doesn’t make sense,” Ella agreed, glad that Fred didn’t want a big house either. “So… yes, I feel like we’ve… I don’t know, completed a level?”

“Your similes today are all around,” Fred laughed again, feeling in a good mood, and she hit him with a cushion. “So, we’ve finished a level, what’s next?” He grabbed it and threw it away from Ella’s reach.

“Breakfast? I’m starving,” she said, sitting on the bed. Fred nodded. “Will you make pancakes? Please?” she asked as she stood up.

“Let’s go make pancakes. I think Blythe should be coming back soon, so maybe he can have some as well before sleeping,” he agreed, stretching as he watched as Ella looked around for her pajamas and dressed. 

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll do the coffee,” she declared, as that was one thing she could do well. She grabbed a sweater from the closet and put it on top of her pajama, as Fred looked for his pants, finding them under the bed. They hadn’t exactly been paying attention the previous night about where any of that was landing. He grabbed a t-shirt as he followed her. Walking to the kitchen, she looked at him. “But well, about what you were asking…”

“No, but you just said, breakfast . That’s the extent of our new level. With pancakes all around. Better make them worth it,” he winked, putting the shirt on. She shook her head.

“Better put some whipped cream in there, then,” she said. “And nutella. And...”

“You better say fruit, and not…”

“ Maple syrup ,” she continued, vocalizing slowly, ignoring him, as she went to prepare the coffee.

“Maple syrup and nutella?” Fred asked, slightly disgusted. “So much sugar!”

“That’s next level pancakes, what can I say?” she replied, and giggled as Fred hugged her, a big smile on his face. She looked in his eyes, and smiled brightly as well. “If I feel inspired I might add chocolate chips. Or sprinkles .”

“Now tell me your real next level, and I’ll prepare you some breakfast that can put you in a diabetic coma, but please, not sprinkles . All the chocolate you want,” he said, letting go of her with a kiss on her forehead and looking for the oats and a couple of ripe bananas. At the very least, the pancakes would be healthy. What Ella put on top of them was beyond his control. Even if he would always advocate to leave the sprinkles out before noon. He worked in silence for a moment, waiting for Ella to collect her thoughts.

“Well, I was thinking… I went to live with you and Gilbert because, while I know we both were serious about our relationship, I understood that we… well, that you wanted to see how it worked before… Well…” she trailed off, feeling her cheeks get warm. She concentrated on measuring the coffee. Slowly. Fred looked at her.

“Love?” Fred said, suddenly next to her. He had left the mix he had been preparing as Ella trailed off. She continued with her eyes fixed on the coffee, trying to make the action of measuring one tablespoon last longer than what was possibly reasonable. “Look at me,” he said, caressing her cheek. She looked up, her cheeks still red, and she was about to look down again when he continued. “Just say it,” he whispered, gently holding her chin.

“It feels weird saying it,” she muttered, feeling her blush increase. 

“What’s weird is talking about it and not mentioning it,” he said, smiling softly but not budging. He was sure they were talking about exactly the same thing, but he wanted Ella to say it, same as he had wanted her to kiss him years before. He was a little particular, probably? Scratch that. He was way too particular and that Ella and Blythe let him get away with his nonsense and quirks was something to be grateful for every day.

“I don’t even know if your it is the same as mine!” she countered, as his hand went back to her, He laughed, shaking his head.

“I’m pretty sure both our its are the same, and yes, I wanted us to live together before that,” he reassured her bringing her close and kissing her behind the ear, before adding in a conspiratorial whisper, “we’ve been living together for a year and a half, Ella.” As if somehow she could have forgotten that. It had been, other than her four months abroad, perfect. And even those months had been illuminating in their own way. He retreated, letting her blushed, and went back to the bowl. He grabbed it and mixed as he looked at her, the perfect image of domesticity. “I was going to ask you how you felt about it. If it was still important to you… I feel it makes more sense now.”

“ You feel it makes sense now ?” she repeated, dumbfounded, not having moved yet. It was what she had been thinking when he had asked first a few minutes before, but she had got caught up on the fact that Fred seemed to hide away from marriage. Or had seemed to do that, for years . But he had shied away from a relationship too, at first, and considering where they were now...

“You just mentioned everything we’ve accomplished. I mean, we’re saving a significant portion of our income to buy a house and for retirement. We want kids in a few years, once we manage to complete… I don’t know if this, or next level, you’ll have to explain them better to me,” he teased.

“Prat,” she replied, finishing to measure the coffee in about two seconds and going to measure the water.

“You started the levels thing, I’m just following your game,” Fred said, an innocent smile on his face that made her laugh. “So?”

“Well, you know my posture. It hasn’t changed much in this regard,” she confessed. Not that it surprised him. “So we’re doing it?”

“If you want to,” Fred said, smiling, “I’d love to. It’s… why I started this conversation, to be honest. I’ve been thinking about it since we moved here… I’m sorry I’m so slow with this stuff, I just...”

“You prefer to be safe than sorry,” she said, chuckling. She knew he wasn’t one to take back things, if at all possible, and this was just one of those situations. He was very slow to make decisions, important ones, but very unlikely to change his mind once he picked something. “You have a really strange internal clock, Freddie. You’re just lucky I don’t mind waiting for you anymore. I knew you would get there, eventually, but I thought it would be in another three years, to be honest.”

“I’m beyond lucky, love,” he said, hugging her. “I don’t even know if lucky is the right word. But I’m so grateful for you and your patience.”

“I’m so grateful for your calm,” she said, burying her face on the cotton of his t-shirt. “And for your ability to cook,” she teased, smiling into his chest.

“And that’s my cue to focus on the pancakes,” he said, giving her a quick kiss and moving slightly to turn on the stove as she laughed. “So, about it… We haven’t actually discussed this much and you never even hinted at it.”

“I wouldn’t push you, Freddie,” she said, turning on the coffee machine that had been forgotten as they talked. “I don’t think it’s wise or even polite to push in that regard, and then I’ve heard horror stories about women leaving tabs open with rings or subscribing their boyfriends to jewelers' newsletters... It’s just horrible, not bound to change anything of what you think in a positive manner and I wouldn’t want any of that. Not that my cousin Lydia didn’t hint I should do it. Repeatedly.”

“Which one is Lydia, again?” Fred asked, confused by Ella’s cousins he had met only sporadically, and not very willingly. Her family seemed to hate him as a united front, and he had very little patience for people as prejudiced as them. That her cousin had somehow been pressuring Ella to leave dubious hints lying around was as unsurprising as it was contradictory. The general situation with them even made him feel forced to tone down his… whatever it was, to make himself acceptable enough for them, something he hadn’t done in any other situation or context in his life. For one, he was certain that no one in that family knew he was bi, and Ella agreed it was something they definitely didn’t need to know. He was happy they had sent Ella with Oma every holiday upon her father’s insistence. It had paid off in ways he couldn’t have imagined back then, but that Fred was grateful for beyond words.

“Tall, brunette, with overly done makeup and a hot-for-your-taste boyfriend. We went to her sister’s  engagement party like three weeks ago, Freddie.” If the boyfriend didn’t ring a bell with Fred, nothing would. Her cousin was unremarkable at best when in the presence of the rest of the family. They all blended together in a blur. 

“Her boyfriend was the blonde guy in the navy suit?” he asked. The guy really was hot. Ella wasn’t kidding. She snorted. 

“Yes, that one. So his girlfriend,” she explained, starting to set the table. She considered for a moment, and set a plate for Gilbert. He really shouldn’t be long, unless something had happened. Fred nodded. “Anyway, no. I didn’t hint. I was never going to.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t want some kind of ring, right?” he asked, unsure. Ella did use jewelry. Not much, and she didn’t collect it like Grace did. His sister was always looking for the last fashion trend, and Ella was always timeless. She had few things, but the things she had were all her style, and all the real stuff.

“I…” she blushed. She had imagined having a ring. Of some sort. Not an overly expensive or ostentatious one, but something she could actually wear and feel good about. Something delicate, if she had any say in it. 

“Ella, it’s totally fine if you want one,” he said, flipping a pancake and turning to look at her. “There are some that are super minimal and tasteful, perfect for you. But I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to asume, and I thought it would be much more fun to look for it together. I found a couple of stores where I think we might find something of your taste.”

“Really?” she asked, curious, but then frowned. Of course Fred would go look for stuff like that and then make it a team effort. She loved him for it. Still... “Fred, we didn’t…”

“I budgeted for it. I know you, love. I won’t actually buy a professional camera, what for?,” he interrupted her. She opened her eyes wide, surprised. She hadn’t seen that coming. They had been putting some money away each month because he had been insisting about wanting to learn photography and wanted the best camera he could afford. “I just knew we would come to this point eventually and I wanted to be prepared. It won’t be the fanciest ring, but I’m sure we can figure something out if we can’t find one with what we had set aside.”

“I don’t want the fanciest ring,” she said. “Something simple, you know?”

“I imagine,” he agreed. “Come here, I don’t want to burn this but I want you close,” he added, extending his free arm. She cuddled against him and sighed. They stayed in silence as she saw how he took care of breakfast, the coffee smell slowly filling the kitchen.

“This is actually happening?” she asked some time later. Not because she didn’t believe it, but because having this conversation (well, not exactly in this nonsensical way) had crossed her mind the past couple of weeks, and she hadn’t considered Fred would be there yet.

“What? It?” Fred teased, nudging her.

“Well, yes!” she laughed. “I can’t… It feels a bit surreal.”

“ It hasn’t happened yet,” Fred replied, joining her laughter.

“Freddie!” she said, exasperated, making him laugh even more. There was a sound and Gilbert appeared in the kitchen, dark bags under his eyes as he yawned. He looked in a good mood. “Hey, Gilbert!”

“Good morning, guys,” he greeted, going to where they stood and peeking around Fred. ”Please tell me you remembered I was coming, Fred, that looks good.”

“Of course I did, Blythe,” Fred replied, rolling his eyes. As if he had ever forgotten him.

“Thanks, mate. So here’s something for you both to consider,” he said, leaning on the countertop as he stifled another yawn. They looked at him. “Do you guys want to go to Montreal for a few days this summer? Delphine will be due any day and Bash and Mary thought it would be nice for all of us to go there and visit and meet the baby. What do you guys say? We can look into the days later.”

“It sounds great!” Ella said, looking at Fred for confirmation, and seeing he was smiling too. Gilbert nodded, smiling, and rubbed his eyes. He was spreading himself thin, taking way more shifts than necessary, on the right track to do his residence on a record time and be burned out, all at the same time. Fred looked at him. 

“There’s some coffee, if you want to be awake for some news. Tell Gilbert about it, love,” Fred said, serving the pancakes on a platter. Ella looked at him, mouth wide open, and Fred winked at her. 

“Tell me about what?” Gilbert asked, serving coffee in three mugs Ella had left ready with varying amounts of milk according to their tastes. “Ella? Everything good?”

“We’re going to get married,” she said. And then looked at Fred. “See there? I said it first.”

“Of course you did, it was the plan all along,” Fred chuckled, grabbing the platter and walking to the table. Ella had brought almost everything else, so it seemed. “Blythe, bring the maple syrup? And close your mouth? It’s not becoming.”

Fred looked from the porch, where he and Bash were seated with Gilbert, to the window from where Ella was looking with worried eyes as she held the baby. And that, seeing Ella holding a baby and her longing eyes, was another thing altogether that he was just going to push away from his mind for now. It was just not time yet. She asked the silent question how’s he doing? , and he gave the smallest of shrugs. He had no idea, to be honest. At least he was not crying anymore? He had seen Blythe drunk on a number of occasions through the years, but this seemed to be something else. The worry in Bash's eyes seemed to say the same thing. Blythe, still only in his boxers (but at least in his boxers?), didn’t seem to notice. The sun was finally setting, late in that summer night.

To think it had all been fun to begin with… Or so he had thought. The LaCroix had invited the three of them for a long weekend in the summer, just after the birth of their daughter. He should probably have been able to tell that Gilbert was struggling with the arrival of his niece, but he had been more focused on Ella, if he was being honest. How he wished he could be omniscient to these two’s problems and worries to be able to catch them on the fly and help them before they spiraled down. Blythe had been the most doting uncle he had ever seen, and he didn’t even know he had a thing for kids or babies- they didn’t know many. Well, he knew his friend from PEI had had one a couple of years ago, but he hadn’t met the girl yet, and other than when they did the obstetrics rotation this was the first time he had seen Gilbert with a baby. And it would be about the most endearing thing ever (after Ella), if it wasn’t for the melancholy that accompanied his every movement.

Fred knew, without a doubt, that for Gilbert to see this baby was just another reminder of something he would never have. He knew his friend, in some dramatic way, was saying goodbye to being a parent, even if there were a million options. Even if he never found a partner, even then, he could still be a father if he so wanted. But no, of course Blythe was being all martyr and if it wasn’t with mythical Anne, then it wasn’t possible.

As if that hadn’t been bad enough, then he had received that blasted message from one of his friends (Diana? The artist? One of  the others?) about Anne having met a boyfriend in Vancouver. Come on, seriously ? Blythe had to mourn his fatherhood (by his own stubborn, sentimental choice) and then have at the same time news of that woman meeting another man, just as if to confirm that what he wanted would never happen and would be a more improbable, more distant option at every turn? What point were their friends after, when they kept telling him news that would just keep him down?

The first drinks in the early evening (some cocktails Bash had prepared with a rum he had brought from his last trip to his island) had been fun in the summer heat. They laughed, shared stories about their years as students, about their travels. Mary and Ella had been there for that part, sharing their own share of anecdotes. Blythe hadn’t received the news about Anne yet, and he seemed to be taking in stride the idea of being a fatherless man who had always wanted to be a dad, focusing more on all the things he would teach Delphine, once the time came. He was so sure he was going to teach her to roller skate and had bargained the age with overcautious Bash, insisting that John Blythe had taken him to skate in frozen lakes since the moment he had been able to stand.

After a while, they had moved to the lush grass in the wildflower-spattered backyard, if it could even be called that in the LaCroix country home, crickets’ chirps all around them. In the stifling, humid 40ºC heat, it felt fresher than the deck where they had been. Ella had gone inside with Mary, the afternoon sun too much for them and the baby. She had come back  with sunscreen and a big container of iced tea, and left them after giving him a kiss, receiving a flower crown from Blythe. 

Probably without thinking Gilbert had started to collect flowers and knot them together. Something they hadn’t seen him do in years, but an old habit they already knew he had. They didn’t know its origins, but after knowing Blythe for so long he could take a wild guess with high chances of getting it right. They had first found out about it the first spring in Toronto, when they used to go to Queen’s park when it was already warm. He always made intricate flower crowns he then gifted to Ella. Whenever that happened, Fred couldn’t stop looking at her. He remembered how much he had tried to ignore that the first few years, when he was so adamant about not dating, focusing on his studies and blowing steam off with that parade of one night stands. She had always been so pretty. 

He didn’t regret it- it had been exactly what he needed at that point in life- but he still wondered, sometimes, if those extra years with Ella would have changed the relationship he had with her, and how. He was almost certain they wouldn’t be together now- she would have been just one more, or she would have deemed him too immature once she managed to be with him, or they wouldn’t have had as clear goals as they did now, and he had really wanted to know what everyone tasted like, because he always had had the horrible feeling he would always wonder, otherwise. And now they were getting married, of all things. He was actually getting married. No, he didn’t regret the paused way in which things had evolved between them.

The flower crowns had stopped at some point. He couldn’t pin-point when. Maybe as he dated Lottie? Maybe before? But now, Blythe was doing flower crowns again, as he chatted with them, laughing and smiling while still having that longing look in his eyes. Soon enough, the three of them were wearing the crowns, splattering water from the tub with ice where the drinks were cooling, and being generally child-like. It had been good fun, at least until they lied on their shirtless backs, the flowers wilting on their heads as they looked at the sky. And then Blythe took his phone out of his pocket to check an incoming message.

Fred remembered Blythe’s face transforming, and Bash actually asking if someone was dead. Probably Blythe’s hopes, Fred had mused as Blythe explained how Anne ( still Anne! One day he would meet her, even if he had to travel to PEI or BC or wherever she was) had gotten together with some teacher and their friends thought it better that he knew. It would be better if they just stopped reminding Blythe of everything he didn’t have. 

But that had been enough to change the mood of the afternoon. It had been pleasant and fun, before. Uncomplicated and relaxed. Now, Blythe continued to drink- with a vengeance. As if he was trying to drown Anne’s every memory, even against Bash and Fred’s best advice. Trying to get him to slow down, Fred had a vague memory of Gilbert doing the same for him, that time when he fought with Ella when she was living in Germany. 

Even then, with Blythe drinking like a maniac, they weren’t able to hold their laughs, at least not all afternoon. Gilbert was incredibly chatty and funny, trying without a doubt to hide how horrible he must have been feeling inside and overcompensating in the most ridiculous of ways that went so against his composed, introverted self, Fred wasn’t even recognizing the sudden happy drunk they had in front of him. 

Ella, who had been his drinking buddy through university in ways Fred couldn’t even imagine (he had been too busy getting into other people’s beds), had joined them by then, and seemed to know how to handle this bizarre version of Gilbert Blythe. He knew they had gone for nights of drinks plenty of times, drinking their weight in cheap gin and tonics as Gilbert tried to forget Anne and Ella tried to forget Fred while seeing him almost daily. He wasn’t sure of when all of this had happened, because there was a whole facet of Ella and Blythe’s friendship he just didn’t know about. He had never pressed for details. But, by the stories they were telling, it had gone on for months… And suddenly he had the image of a very dressed up Ella, one night she had reluctantly allowed Alicia to pick her outfit, which had prompted him to hook up with another of her friends because he would not take Ella to bed then and he needed to burn her image out of his mind .

The stories and the dares and the drinking had seemed to take the edge off Gilbert, and Bash had seemed to relish a break from adulthood as well. Mary had texted him reassuring messages as she had left the house with Delphine to go pick Elijah (how on earth could Mary have an adult son?) from the airport, they were going to grab dinner somewhere. The dares had become more and more absurd as the night dragged on and there had been a point where Fred was sure there was no way Blythe would remember half of anything the following morning, not at the rate with which he had been drinking and the way he had been acting. It was around then that he assured them, with nonsensical playfulness but simultaneous seriousness, that he would kiss them all just to show how much he didn’t care about Anne. 

Ella, not missing a beat, had dared him to do so, to which Bash had put on a firm boundary that he would not be kissed by his brother. He had exchanged a look with Ella, was she actually ok with this?! And she had shrugged, because she seemed to think that this was just something stupid and Blythe wouldn’t actually do it, anyway, who were they kidding? (Or that’s what her eyes seemed to say, and now that it was all done and over he hoped he had read it right). 

And so Gilbert had gone and declared he would never kiss a sister as Bash wouldn’t kiss a brother, and Fred had actually thought that would be the end of it, because of course he was Blythe’s brother too. As they had suspected, because in what reality Gilbert Blythe was going to kiss people out of a self-imposed dare ? But then… either he really wasn’t what he thought (weren’t they brothers?! Family, at least?) or Blythe’s own rule was weirdly flexible because he had found himself suddenly kissing the one cute guy he had never even thought about kissing. He was glad it had only reaffirmed how much he looked at Blythe as a sibling, and nothing else, because he had never expected him to kiss that way, with that determination and firmness, to taste like that, even with all the alcohol, and he knew if this had happened before Ella, before he had decided she was all for him, he would have managed to take Blythe to bed. He didn’t know how . Because he was supposedly straight (yeah, sure). But he would have set his mind to it, to get a sober , consenting Blythe into his bed. If this was the way he kissed he couldn’t even imagine the way he…

Thank goodness he was with Ella and couldn’t picture himself going after anyone else anymore.

By then, Ella had been changing his drinks for a while (they all had been), exchanging knowing looks with him. She was maintaining him cheery, she seemed to say, but she was also lowering as much as she could the alcohol Blythe was having and slipping some plain drinks as she could manage. She had been in charge of the situation, handling the delicate balance that seemed to be Gilbert in that moment, until she had to go to the bathroom for a moment, not able to hold it any longer, and then it all seemed to fall apart. How, Fred still wasn’t sure. But fast. Ella had gone, and with her seemed to go the playful, careless demeanor Gilbert had been sporting. Maybe it had been just for her. Because it was Blythe, and the last thing he seemed to want was worry Ella.

It had turned into the complete opposite direction. Within minutes, Bash and him had found themselves with a weepy Gilbert Blythe, the change so fast they didn’t even know how to react at first. He suddenly remembered that first night in their first flat, when he still had no idea how much Gilbert was carrying or keeping hidden, and somehow knew that this night, that had seemed to be all fun, was none of that. It was back to the flat. 

Bash and him had started to listen, continuing to slip him water as they could, trying to sober him up a little as he insisted on having only one more . Ella had come back from the bathroom only to find the situation completely changed. She had frowned slightly, unsure if she should go back with them or to the house and he had shaken his head slightly. He knew Gilbert would open himself to her in so many ways, but that they would be different from the ones he would give him and Bash, and he had waited until she was gone to break down. He was sure she would be there for him the next day.

And so they had continued to listlen. To try and slip something hydrating. To move him from the blankets they had thrown on the grass at some point back to the chairs on the deck. Which had brought them to this moment, to Ella looking at them from the window, the silent concern in her eyes as Gilbert didn’t even look up and he and Bash lost track of time. Mary and Elijah had been back for a while, which explained Ella taking care of the baby. He hugged Blythe  from the side, holding him close and feeling his sweaty t-shirt still damp after his friend’s tears. 

He ran his hand up and down, thinking about all the grounding techniques he had learnt over years and months and how none of them would probably do anything to someone as drunk as Blythe was in the moment. Probably it would be best if he just passed out. Or maybe even… vomited and then had water and then passed out, in a quick succession. Maybe at least he would get some of the alcohol out, if he vomited, and his liver would be the slightest bit happier.

 “It’s just- just everything coming together, you know?” he said. Or Fred thought he said, he was vocalizing so bad he could be saying any number of things.

“What is, Gilly-boy?” and if Bash was calling Blythe some sort of endearment for which Fred would tease him this life and the other, he had to be concerned.

“Anne, and babies, and dad, and… Delly has you and Fred has Erick and… and even Elijah has Mary and…” Fred blinked. “I just… just…”

“Gilli-boy, you are not alone,” Bash said. “Yes, John might not be with us anymore, but he is still with you. And I’m here with you. Not as much a good model as he was, but I am here for you,” Bash insisted. “And you also have family in Fred and in Ella, I am sure of that. I’ve seen the three of you.”

“Blythe, we’re not going anywhere,” he tried to reassure him, “I can’t know all you’re going through, but I can tell you that you don’t have to go through any of that alone.”

“But I’m alone, there’s… Anne won’t ever… You have Ella, and you’ve married, getting there… and Mary has Delly with Sebastian but I won’t have a Delly,” Gilbert insisted, trailing off and looking at the void, as if he wasn’t paying them any attention. Fred frowned, looking at Bash, who shrugged. Honestly, this was a side of Blythe he had never expected seeing. Blythe, except for that night years ago and a few other days, had never let on such a vulnerable, fragile side. He was always collected, calm, rational to a fault, not this… emotional wreck. Which was fine, he had to let it out eventually (how could he live with all that inside and portray such detachment?), but… It was a bit disconcerting. And honestly, he was all about talking it over with Blythe, but doing it at the moment seemed counterintuitive. He looked at him again, quickly turning greenish.

“Bash, move over,” he tried to warn him, but Gilbert was already leaning forward and puking over the deck. He swallowed, and breathed through the mouth, trying to keep the nauseating odor of vomit and half digested alcohol at bay as best he could, rubbing Blythe’s back as he continued vomiting. Bash managed to get the bucket where they had had the ice and the beers and caught the second round, if not the first one.

“I’ll go get some water,” Bash said, standing up as it was clear Fred was taking care of Blythe at the moment. 

“Let it all out, Blythe,” he encouraged quietly. “Better out there than in your stomach.”

“Here, some napkins,” Bash said, coming back with a big bucket of water on one hand (surely to pour over the deck when they went inside) and a bunch of napkins and a glass on the other. Fred nodded, receiving them, and offered one to Blythe, who shook his head. He didn’t insist, and left the glass on the table. “That’s some ginger ale. Might be easier to keep down?”

“Makes sense, thanks,” Fred said, just as Blythe doubled over the bucket one more time. “I’d never seen him like this,” he mumbled. 

“Me neither. I’ve seen him drunk, but… Not this drunk,” Bash replied quietly, sitting on a chair next to Fred, who nodded in agreement. “It has to be so hard to be in his shoes, with all that damned Blythe fidelity to top it all, with you and Ella getting engaged, and then Delly being born…”

“He’s just seeing everything he thinks he’ll never get,” Fred agreed quietly, continuing to rub his friend’s back as another round of vomit tore through him. “And then missing his father. He was quite the character, from what you both have told me.”

“Oh, John Blythe was the best father you can imagine. No offense,” he added. Fred shrugged. John Blythe was legendary. “I have set my mind to try to channel what he would do when things start to come up with Delly. My dad was… an amazing person, for all I know, but… We were never close. He had this busy, engaged life as a social leader and I was just… a second thought, I feel. But John was there for Blythe. Every single minute. To guide him and encourage him and give him light.”

“A loss that he must be feeling more dearly right now,” Fred commented. Bash nodded. They stayed in silence for a few minutes. Blythe was still arched over the bucket, but the vomiting seemed to be slowing down. Finally, he straightened again and Fred offered the napkin again. Blythe tried his best to clean himself, making Fred roll his eyes at his lack of coordination. “Here,” he said, grabbing a new one, and cleaning his face gently. “There, now want something to drink?”

“I… Freddie, I just…” Blythe tried, his voice rough.

“Not alcohol, some ginger ale. Here, have a sip,” he offered the glass. “Just a sip, Blythe, or you’ll be pucking all over again.” They stayed for a while longer, Blythe quiet, still sipping once in a while as Fred enouraged him, until he started drooping. “And I think it’s time for bed,” Fred said quietly as Blythe leaned on his shoulder. “There hasn’t been any vomit in a while, I think we could be safe,” he commented to Bash, who nodded. “Hey, Blythe?” But there was no use. He had passed out.

“I think we can carry between the two of us?” Bash suggested. Elijah had already gone to bed after he had seen the situation and had stepped back, apologizing. Fred didn’t know the whole story, but he knew there had been an alcoholism problem at some point, and he couldn’t blame him for needing some space, considering the circumstances.

“I think I can manage, just open the door, please?” he said, thinking what was the best way to go about it, and finally sliding an arm under his legs and trying his best to settle him on his shoulder and his chest. “Thanks, Bash,” he said, walking through the kitchen and going to the bedroom where Blythe had been sleeping. He left him carefully on the bed and covered him, only to find Ella on the threshold with a glass of water and some alka seltzer and painkillers in her hand. Fred received it and left everything on the bedside table.

“How is he?” she asked worriedly when he was turning off the light on the side of the bed. 

“Shitty. He’ll suffer tomorrow, most likely,” he replied quietly, walking to her and kissing her forehead. “Come, I don’t think there’s much we can do for him tonight. I should help Blash clear outside.”

“Let’s go, I’ll help you both,” she said, but they found that Bash had made quick work of everything.

“He’s in bed?” he asked as he saw them. Fred nodded. He bid them goodnight and they walked to the bedroom that Mary had offered them, that had a bathroom attached. 

“I should shower,” Fred mumbled, “but I’m bone tired and I just want to go to bed and talk and snuggle you,” he said, rubbing his face. It seemed like the longest afternoon ever.

“Come, take a quick shower, I’ll be there and you can talk,” Ella offered, taking his towel. She was still wearing her clothes. Fred nodded and followed her. He undressed as she turned on the stream and she sat on the counter as he slipped inside the shower. He sighed, hoping the water would wash the whole night away.

“What’s on your mind, Freddie?” she asked.

“Everything, it would seem,” she heard through the stream. He sighed deeply again and she didn’t push it. He started again after a moment. “I just feel so… so lucky and privileged, you know? What we have… My family…” he trailed off again. “I just wish I knew how to help him get out of that funk.”

“Is that what it’s called? A funk?”

“Whatever it’s called. Not only that obsession with Anne, but… just everything. If someone deserves to be happy, it’s him, and I just feel we keep rubbing on his face everything he doesn’t have and can’t picture himself having, and… it kills me. I wish I knew how to make it better, to help him understand he can have anything he sets his mind on. Except Anne, probably.”

“We can be there for him, same as we have been since we all started hanging out together,” Ella said. “He’s family, Freddie. We can’t make magic, but we can be present. And for him, right now, I think that’s the most important thing. That he can feel he has some stability amidst… Everyone seemingly moving on or progressing with their lives in ways he isn’t.”

“I know you’re right, I just… And then that stupid ring of his,” another sigh, clearing the soap quickly. “Anyway, there’s no point to it. It won’t get solved tonight,” he added, as he turned off the shower. Ella stood up and reached for his towel, wrapping him in a hug as he opened the curtain. “Love, I’ll just get you wet,” he protested, but didn’t move away.

“Nonsense, and I’m changing into my pajamas in a minute anyway,” she said, rubbing her hands over the towel to dry him. She stepped back, letting him wrap the towel around his waist. “Anything else on your mind?” she asked, since she knew Fred and he still had that… restless glint in his eyes. She yawned. It was late. How much, she couldn’t tell. There was the sudden cry of a baby at the other side of the house and she bit her lip, accepting Fred’s inviting arms as he enveloped her in a warm hug. She rested her head on his shoulder, still slightly moist from the shower.

“All the things, love, all the things,” he murmured, still holding her close, as if she was the only stable thing he could come up with. “I had never seen you with a baby before,” he said very quietly, and she stayed very still. “I had… I had never imagined it, and watching you there with Delphine… I just can see you as a mother, Ella, so much.”

“I hadn’t held a baby in years,” she replied. “It’s…,” she swallowed, and then breathed him in. She tried clearing her mind, to focus on their other goals. If their sole goal was to have a family, it would be different, but they had so many things they had discussed they wanted to achieve before bringing a baby in the picture. “We are waiting, Freddie. We’re just getting married next year… we have all these things we want to do before.”

“I know, and I’m not saying we change any of that,” Fred reassured her, kissing her temple. “I just… had the image of you, for the first time, with a baby of ours. And I wasn’t expecting it, it was just… Something else, I guess.” He let go of her and she went to the bedroom to change as he finished getting ready. “You know what else I wasn’t expecting?” 

“What?” Ella asked, coming back in shorts and an old t-shirt of his.

“Well, you stealing my clothes,” he said, taken aback and blinking in surprise. It was unusual of her. He rubbed the towel on his head, trying to dry the hair as much as he could. One day, he would buzz it off just to see how it felt.

“I spilled coffee on mine this morning, if you remember,” Ella explained, “I don’t routinely steal your things. They’re big. What were you not expecting?”

“You, in party mood with Blythe. Before he… before he melted down. I think I had seen this side of you only once or twice and never you and him, both in the same…” he trailed off, walking behind her to the bed. “I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like, for the first time, today it was very real how the two of you used to go out together.”

“You always left before us, Freddie. And we went out without you as well,” she shrugged, sitting on it “You were shagging anonymous people, we were having fun .”

“So that’s how it worked?” Fred smiled.

“Oh yes,” Ella said, rolling her eyes as she went inside the covers. “Lot’s of fun- which means Gilbert and I, having gin and tonics, moping over that Anne of his and you half the time, and the other half attempting to have fun. I’d rarely seen him as playful as today, though.”

“I’m sure it was just trying to go to the other extreme of what he was feeling,” Fred explained, resting his head on the pillow next to her. “I can’t believe he actually kissed me,” he added, mumbling. “That was weird.”

“Bad kisser?” Ella teased, snuggling next to him.

“Actually, not. Great kisser, not that I want you to go and see for yourself,” he said, snorting. “But… I don’t even know how to explain it, Ella. Like an amazing kisser, but at the same time the weirdest sensation of you’re my brother I can’t do this without it being weird ? I don’t know. I’d rather kiss you any day, to be honest. Nothing tops it,” he added honestly. Since they had gotten together, over three years ago, he couldn’t picture himself kissing anyone else. After Alex, he had forgotten how much the emotional connection could add to something as simple as kissing.

“Do you regret it?” she asked curiously.

“Do you mind that he did it?” he asked in return, looking at her, some concern in his eyes. The last thing he wanted was Blythe’s drunk stunt to give him problems with Ella. But he would be surprised if it did, to be honest.

“No, I know it wasn’t anything serious,” Ella said, honestly. “If I had found the two of you kissing on the couch or something, then it would be different. But… It was a ridiculous dare he made up. I can’t believe he went through with it, I thought he wouldn’t.” 

“I can’t believe he did, either,” Fred agreed. “But to answer your question, if you don’t mind that I actually went and kissed Gilbert, then no. I don’t regret it. I never fancied him or anything, but I suppose there was always the curiosity? I mean, you’ve seen the bloke. And now it’s done, and I can truly say I see him as a sibling, otherwise there would not be this weird… thing .”

“Fair enough,” she replied. “I’m kind of curious, too,” she added after thinking for a moment, making Fred laugh.

“Apparently he does see you as a sister, so I think you’re out of luck,” Fred teased, making her giggle. They stayed in silence for a moment, and Ella reached to turn off the light. “I can’t believe the last guy I’m going to kiss it’s Gilbert Blythe, of all people. So weird.”

“Who was the last before him?” she asked curiously.

“No idea. I think maybe a blond one when we were volunteering. I don’t remember his name. Bad kisser. I kind of hope he actually forgets so I don’t have to deal with his overthinking.”

“So if he blacks out…”

“If he truly blacks out, I say we make this like it was the most fun night ever, omit the meltdown and the kissing. It’s not like he got in trouble or can have any repercussions because of what he did, we’re all family here,” Fred proposed. “He really doesn’t need to overthink anything else, he does it well enough with the things he does manage to remember. But I think we should talk with him about his worries, regardless of what he remembers in the morning. He needs to sort it out.”

They stayed in silence for a few minutes.

“Freddie?” Ella asked, sleepily. He made a soft noise, acknowledging her. “What if we adopt a dog?”

“That sounds like a nice idea, love,” he replied. “We do have the space, now… let’s propose that to Blythe too, see what he thinks.”

“All right. Sleep well, Freddie.”

“Love you,” he mumbled, holding her closer and kissing the top of her head.

The morning came with the most hungover Gilbert Blythe anyone in that house had ever seen. As much as they wanted to talk with him, it was a tacit decision just to send him back to bed after Mary prepared a broth for breakfast and made him have some. He was still reeking of alcohol in the afternoon, when he woke up again, and had a second serving of broth before taking a shower. As he came back, still wet curls sticking to his forehead, he seemed… reasonably more alive than before and Bash exchanged a look with Fred over the Scrabble board. Mary was having a nap and Ella was taking care of Delly, absorbed in the baby and a book. Fred had given her a look and then decided to focus on his letters once more.

“How are you feeling, Gilbert?” she asked before either of the guys said anything. She spoke in a low voice, more for Mary’s benefit than for Gilbert’s hangover. He shrugged. “Come, let’s go outside,” she added as she stood over. She left the baby on the bassinet and Gilbert followed, his air defeated and resigned, shoulders slumped.

“How stupid was I yesterday, Ella?” he asked her, looking miserable, after they sat down and Ella didn’t say anything. “I asked Fred and he said something so vague… I think…”

“You think?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Memories of this morning are a bit fuzzy,” he said apologetically, his hand, as always, shooting to the back of his head. She slapped it without even thinking. “Ouch, Ella! Was that really necessary?”

“It’s a horrible habit and honestly, you should have outgrown it by now,” she said, not feeling the least sorry. She tried to soften her tone, “How much do you remember? Honestly?”

“I remember the flower crowns?” he said tentatively. “And then flashes. I know I cried a lot, because my eyes are swollen and puffy. I remember undressing, for some reason…? And I woke up in boxers, so I want to think I wasn’t stupid enough to take them off? But… nothing much, apart from that. Just… small things, but nothing relevant.”

“Oh god,” Ella mumbled. “Ok, so… remember when we used to go out?”

“When?” he asked, frowning.

“2011?” she said tentatively. “With Alicia, that St. Patties?”

“Yes, why are you bringing that up?” he said, looking half spooked, half concerned. She snorted. “No, no, no, no, you have to be joking, Ella, I couldn’t be that bad,” he said. She raised an eyebrow. “Was I that bad?!”

“I won’t go into the details,” she said, trying to reassure him. “But it was very much along those lines, and I have to say, the good news is that you were here, with only Bash, Fred and me as witnesses. You won’t have pictures stalking you for years. We didn’t take a single one.”

“Fuck,” Gilbert sweared. “Anything I should regret?”

“Again, you were only with the three of us. You don’t have to regret anything,  we are your family and we don’t judge,” she said. “What’s the worst thing you could have done?”

“I don’t know, said something I really shouldn’t have, insulte any of you? Done something that could have injured any of you? Hit someone? Break something? I don’t know, Ella, I hadn’t had a black out in years, I don’t even know what to think,” he said, his hand going halfway to his neck and then letting it drop and hang. He frowned, frustrated, before adding, “I kind of feel I should have outgrown this, you know?”

“Alcohol tolerance doesn’t increase with age, Gilbert,” she said gently. “And no. You didn’t insult, you didn’t injure, nothing like that. You called me your sister, and Bash your brother.”

“I think that’s been established for years,” he said, shrugging but giving her a friendly nudge. She nodded, smiling. “Wait, not Fred?” he asked in confusion a moment later.

“No, but I suppose he can be your brother in law?” she grinned, making Gilbert laugh. “Anyway. It was nice. I always feel warm inside when you say something like that. Now, in the best sister spirit, I have to talk with you.”

“So I did do something,” Gilbert said, hiding his face in his hands.

“Well, you do know you cried, Gilbert,” she said, looking meaningfully at him. He sighed. “Look… You said many things. It doesn’t… It’s not worth reciting them all. I wouldn’t be able, anyway, because at some point it was only Bash and Fred with you, and they’ll probably have their own chat with you when the time comes. Can you imagine what it was about?”

“I could take a wild guess,” he said, sighing. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Anne?”

“Of course. But honestly, Gilbert, it went well beyond that,” she said, and then proceeded to explain the pain he had voiced the previous night. “Look, I don’t even know where to begin, but… You do know that we all love you and you do have a family, right?”

“I do, yes, why…?” he frowned.

“And we will always be there fo you, even when you’re being stupid,” she insisted, holding his hand in between hers.

“Ella, what is this about?”

“It’s because yesterday, for all you say you know that now, it seemed almost like you thought you were alone in the world. And you are not alone in the world. Yes, we might be about the most unconventional family you could find, but that doesn’t make us any less of a family, ok?”

“Ok…?” he said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “I just wanted to make a point, even if I think it should be evident.”

“Fair enough,” Gilbert accepted.

“I just… I know it must be hard for you right now. And I don’t blame you, I really don’t,” she said. Gilbert frowned again. “With Delphine. And with Fred and I getting married.”

“I’m happy for all of you, Ella! Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, defensively. She didn’t need to see his reaction to know she had struck a cord- the previous night was evidence enough that he was struggling with the news. And she couldn’t blame him, either. She knew that, were she in his place, she would be a right mess.

“Look, you being happy doesn’t make it any less harder. I know,” she said. He let go of her hands and got up. He walked to the railing of the deck and held it, his knuckles almost going white because of how strongly he was holding onto it. She stood as well, and walked to be beside him. “I can’t know exactly what you’re going through, Gilbert- I was lucky enough that Fred eventually wanted to go out with me. But I do remember what it felt like when he went out of a bar with someone and I just knew it wasn’t me who was going to be in his bed that night. And I also know how much it hurt to see Alicia get together with that boyfriend she had back then, because it almost was like everything was working for her and why couldn’t I have the same chance? With Fred? And I also know what it’s like to go out with someone while thinking about someone else, like you’ve done every time you’ve tried dating,” she ranted, speaking in a low voice, just for Gilbert to hear, even if they were alone. He didn’t say anything and she chuckled sadly, angrily. “And fuck, I know how much it hurts to see Mary with Delphine and know I won’t have that for years, even if I know why we made the decision not to have kids any time soon. I know that, Gilbert. We’re much more alike than what you seem to believe, and just because I might be getting a better deal now doesn’t mean I don’t know what it feels like to feel hopeless.”

“Ella, I never…” he stammered, trailing off. She shrugged.

“Of course you never, Gilbert. Fred always spoke to me, how would it be similar to what happened between you and Anne? We never fought, not really,” she shrugged, her eyes sad as she remembered. Gilbert didn’t say anything. “I know it’s not exactly the same. I don’t think it compares. I don’t know what I would have done those years if he suddenly stopped talking to me. But I’m also not completely oblivious to what you’re going through, you know?”

“With Delly… I didn’t think it would affect you so much,” he said quietly, letting go of the railing and hugging her from the side. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

“I had no idea either, I hadn’t been close to a baby in so many years that I wasn’t expecting to react in any way,” she explained. “Don’t worry about it, really, it’s not that… that terrible. And the time will come, it’s just a matter of focus for now. I just mentioned it now because it also concerns you.”

“How so?” Gilbert looked at her, curiously, but didn’t let go of her.

“Part of your… sadness yesterday was about never going to be able to have a family of your own,” Ella said, making Gilbert sigh as he rested his head on hers. 

“I just don’t see how that could ever happen now,” he murmured, defeated.

“I can imagine any number of ways,” Ella said, “all of which require more or less effort from your side.”

“Let’s hear it,” he snorted, chuckling. She laughed and slapped him playfully.

“I was actually being serious!” she defended herself. “So, here’s the most unlikely option: the end of the world comes and you manage to get together with Anne and have a kid in the apocalypse.”

“Does it have to be so dreary?” he asked, laughing.

“Of course,” she replied. “It wouldn’t be the most unlikely option otherwise. So your pick, zombies, a pandemic or an asteroid. Or some drastic weather thing. Now, another is you managing to get her out of your head and meeting someone nice, which implies really letting go of her and her metaphorical self. Which is your ring. So you can meet the future mother of your kids.”

“Ok, next?” he didn’t even consider that, not that it surprised Ella. She had long lost any hopes of Gilbert actually letting go of Anne.

“You go into a tiny room in a fertility clinic, do your thing, and they fertilize with your actual seed a donated egg and then put it in a happy surrogate,” she explained. Gilbert looked at her, mouth slightly open. “I know it works for gay couples, who’s to say it can’t work for single dads? It’s worth at least looking into it. There has to be a clinic that offers the service. Probably it won’t be cheap, but… maybe it’s feasible?”

“Ok… Any more?”

“You can adopt a kid. He won’t have your genes, but it’s an option,” she said, and he nodded. “So there, from most implausible to actual options for you to have a kid. And about having a family of your own, again, you already have it. There’s no need to suffer about not having one. We can’t replace your dad, Gilbert, but we can help you honor him as you want. We’re here for you,” she insisted, looking at him again. He nodded, but didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“Anne was adopted,” he said finally, letting go of her and leaning on the railing. 

“I know,” Ella said, closing her eyes as she leaned next to him, enjoying the sun. “You’ve told me a billion times.”

“Your ideas are not half bad, you know?” he said after a moment.

“I know, Gilbert,” she replied. “I can think a thing or two. So you’ll consider all this when the time comes when you actually feel ready to be a parent?”

“It’s not what I ever envisioned for my family,” he said, “but I think it could work out. Maybe. I don’t even want kids now, I want to finish studying, do things… I just can’t get out of my head the idea that it will just not happen.”

“It will happen if you want it to happen, Gilbert. Once the time is right. It’s not like you’re dying. For now, though, just know you have options and don’t obsess with that. We’re all here for you, when you’re drunk and when you just need direction or to vent a little. So be easy on yourself, ok?”

“Right. Thanks, Ella. I still feel like shit, though. Do you know if there’s any soup left?”