Heart Attack • Shirbert

• 48 • dread, doubts, and diagnosis

'I've known it from the moment that we met,

No doubt in my mind where you belong'

--

Anne's knee bounced anxiously as their cart rode through Avonlea. Green Gables was painstakingly far from everything. On a normal day, she'd love the scenery.

Not today.

Gilbert held Delly throughout the ride. Bash wasn't good under pressure, and the tension in the cart was enough to send him spinning. The last thing they needed was a crying baby.

When they could see Green Gables in the distance, Anne suddenly jumped out of the cart and ran towards the house.

"Anne!" Gilbert couldn't follow her with Delly in his arms so he looked at Bash instead, "What couldn't you tell her?"

"I don't want to say the wrong-"

"No," Gilbert cut him off. He was becoming just as frustrated and nervous as Anne was, "What symptoms does she have? Give me something to work with here."

Bash pinched his nose in frustration, "It's in her brain. She went to some sort of doctor. 'Neur' something."

"Neurologist?"

Gilbert instinctually tightened his grip on Delly. Neurology was so new to the medical field.

Bash whipped his head up at Gilbert, "Yes, that's it...what is that?"

"Like you said, a doctor for the brain." Gilbert sighed in dissatisfaction, "It's a new specialization and they haven't made much progress yet."

"So they can't do anything?"

Gilbert didn't want to quite admit that yet because he didn't want to believe it himself.

"There's mumblings of surgery in the United States and some success in Scotland."

Bash's eyes widened, "Surgery in your brain?"

"It's lucrative."

"Could they do that for Marilla?"

No.

"We're not even sure if that's what is wrong."

The cart rolled up to the house as Gilbert handed Bash his baby, "I need to...."

His head was already spinning.

"Go."

--

Anne's feet pounded through the farm as she jumped the fence and ran towards her house. By the time she made it to the house, she was heaving.

"Marilla?" She pushed through the doorway, dirty shoes and all, "Marilla, where are you?"

Anne flung herself up the stairs and to Marilla's bedroom door.

"Marilla are you-"

She halted when she saw a flat and seemingly tiny body in her Marilla's bed.

She walked to the bed in silence, holding her breath and hoping to hear some sort of noise.

Please. Please let her be okay.

"Anne?" A hoarse voice replied.

"Marilla!" Anne charged towards the bed and wrapped her arms around Marilla in glee.

"Anne, please quiet down. This volume is not conducive to rest."

Anne sat on the bed and stared at her adoptive mother, "I thought you were-" She shook her head, "I didn't know if you were okay."