Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Somehow, someway, we had managed to get through the investigation relatively unscathed. Of course, it had not been easy. Far from it, in fact. Maxim had been questioned again and again by the authorities. Each time they summoned him to the station, I waited with bated breath, anxious that I would receive the dreaded call that he had been arrested and charged with murder. But each time, he returned to Manderley. He only betrayed his relief at the fact that the police had once again failed to obtain enough evidence that Rebecca had been murdered when we were alone.

The autopsy came back with inconclusive results. When they found out about the holes pierced into Rebecca’s boat, they performed a DNA test on the boat itself. It too came back inconclusive thanks to the fact that the boat had been submerged underwater for nearly two years. 

They eventually moved on from questioning Maxim and began to interview members of staff at Manderley, just in case they had missed something that would serve as a motive for either Rebecca’s potential suicide or “potential” murder. Mrs. Danvers had sorted through all of Rebecca’s things that she had kept, eventually handing over Rebecca’s engagement diary, letting slip to the police that Rebecca only feared illness.

“If I must die, Danny, I want to go quickly, not to waste away,” she had said.

They found out Rebecca had visited a man called Baker the day she died. After further investigation, they learned that he was her doctor whom she had visited under an alias. The doctor revealed that Rebecca had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, and had a mere six weeks to live at the time of her last appointment. This news, coupled with Mrs. Danvers’ statement, caused the authorities to rule Rebecca’s death a suicide and close the case for good.

Thus far, I had been on the right track in terms of recovering from the trauma Rebecca had inflicted upon me, but the news of her cancer had caused me quite a setback. I had thought that it would do more harm to Maxim’s mental health. He had quickly put together that Rebecca had lied about her “pregnancy” to goad him into killing her, thus in a way becoming her proxy to suicide, but in the end it had made me angry and resentful.

How dare she attempt to destroy him like she had destroyed me?

Once the investigation was well and truly over, Maxim and I began our quest to heal our scars in earnest. I was referred to a therapist based in Kerrith, Dr. Bennett, with whom I met every other week. I had to admit, it took a few sessions in order for me to trust her enough to tell her about being groomed and raped by Rebecca. Telling my story to someone other than Maxim seemed quite daunting, but Dr. Bennett was more than understanding and patient.

“You told me at the end of our last session that Mrs. Danvers attempted to apologize to you for what happened the night of the Halloween party. How did that go?” Dr. Bennet asked me. 

I fidgeted in my chair, looking towards the window in her office and rubbing my fingernails together as I recalled the memory. “Yes, she did…” 

I had just gotten off the phone with an aunt of mine, the very same aunt I had been staying with whilst Rebecca and I had been in contact online. When I had hopped on a train to Cornwall to meet Rebecca in real life under the pretense that I was staying the night at a school friend’s house. We had arranged a visit over the phone to take place within the next month. I would go to Yorkshire, bringing Maxim along with me, to reconnect with what was left of my family. 

Mrs. Danvers had entered the room, once again escaping my notice. Ever since I had asked her to dispose of Rebecca’s things, including the items in the house containing her initials, she had begun to act differently around me. I wouldn’t go as far as to say she respected me, but at least she was no longer openly hostile. 

“Madam, do you mind if I had a word with you?” She asked. I caught a hint of humility, no sorrow, no guilt in her voice.

“Of course,” I replied. The housekeeper let out a long sigh that was most unlike her. I was no longer afraid of her, but still found myself wondering what exactly she would do.

“What happened during Halloween, it was…I was far from in my right mind. I haven’t been in my right mind since Mrs. de-…since Rebecca’s suicide,” She eventually said. Yes, that was certainly guilt. 

“That is not to say it was an excuse, but…” She paused, exhaling deeply. For a moment, I thought that she was about to tell me she was sorry directly. But she did not. “I now know that I was wrong about her. She did in fact keep secrets from me. To find out she had cancer, well it was as much a surprise to me as it was to everyone else,” 

“I know how devoted you were to her. And although I fail to understand why, you have a right to feel betrayed,” I told her, not exactly sympathetic to her plight, but at least able to empathize somewhat.

“Yes, it turns out she was using me just as she had used Mr. de Winter. Just as she had used you,” She mumbled that last sentence so that I just barely heard it. But the important thing was it had been said. To hear Mrs. Danvers acknowledge that I had been ill used by her beloved Rebecca was a step in the right direction, even if I would receive no true apology.

She said something about me not being Rebecca’s only lover. That she had been with plenty of men, women, and others alike, all of whom were nothing more than playthings to her, most thrown to the wayside rather quickly. I told her that I already knew. Maxim had told me as much when her body was found.

“In a way, I was a victim of her’s as well. I was in complete denial and projected it all onto you,” Mrs. Danvers said. I could see that her demeanor was no longer cold. Her eyes no longer held the contempt and hatred they once did. Instead she seemed almost numb, dead inside, not unlike how Maxim had found me the morning Rebecca’s body had been found.

“I’ll be resigning from my duties as housekeeper. I expect to be gone by the end of the week,” The older woman stated when I failed to respond to her. She turned to leave the room, still numb, but as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. 

She turned to me one last time, her usual blank expression returning to her face. “I wish you luck…Mrs. de Winter,”  

Mrs. Danvers had left Manderley two days later.

Dr. Bennett furrowed her brow as I finished relaying the story to her. “I can see why that took you by surprise,”

“Yes,” I nodded. “She never liked me and made that quite clear from the beginning. And she never called me Mrs. de Winter. To her, that title had been and always would be Rebecca’s. She couldn’t bear the fact that I had replaced Rebecca, so to hear her call me Mrs. de Winter, even if it was just once…it was startling. And yet…almost satisfying,” 

Dr. Bennett then asked me if I had forgiven the former housekeeper for her mistreatment of me. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. “I don’t know. I know I should forgive her. She did seem remorseful. But then I think back to what happened Halloween night, the costume, the way she threw what Rebecca had done in my face and I second guess myself. I still have nightmares of that night,” I admitted, realizing just then that I had been rubbing my arm with my opposite hand the entire time.

“Speaking of the nightmares, how have those been since last session?” Dr. Bennett asked.

“They seem to come in waves lately. There are some nights I can go without having one, but others where they become so vivid, so realistic that I can’t get back to sleep for fear of having another. It’s not as bad as the early days after she raped me, but they are still there. Maxim has them too, and much worse than mine. He once went three days without sleeping. They had to put him on some sedative,” I informed her, crossing my legs as I spoke. 

“And does Maxim seek counseling of his own?” She questioned. I hadn’t told her everything about what my husband had endured or his mental state, merely the basic points that had pertained to me, but clearly Dr. Bennett had learned enough that such a question seemed warranted.

“He does, although he can be quite stubborn. We don’t talk about our sessions with each other, so I can’t say whether he follows the advice he’s given,” I managed a lighthearted chuckle. I had thrown my husband under the bus, but no one needed to know that.

The session ended shortly thereafter. Maxim was waiting outside in the car. I hopped in and we drove home. We were to leave for Yorkshire tomorrow and our things needed for the 3 day long trip were already packed in our suitcases. I heard my phone buzz. A text from one of my cousins.

“Hey, it’s Anna! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. We really need to catch up”

I responded that I agreed with her, adding a smiley emoji at the end. I was glad she did not reproach me for not keeping in contact since I had arrived at Manderley. Her family and I had never been close until I came to live with them and after I left their home at 18, we only kept in touch through text and the occasional FaceTime. I hadn’t told them I had gotten married until after Maxim and I went to the courthouse, mostly to avoid what I assumed would be disapproval over the fact that Maxim was much older than me. In hindsight I probably should have invited them to the costume ball, if for no other reason than to give them the opportunity to see Manderley for themselves, but I was still grateful that they hadn’t been there to see how it all went wrong.

Chapter Text

Maxim and I rose early for our departure to Yorkshire. I had never been a morning person, despite sometimes sitting up until the wee hours to avoid nightmares, and I found myself especially nervous for today’s visit, so when my dear husband roused me from my rather peaceful slumber at 6 AM, I responded by swatting his hand away.

“Ughhh, five more minutes,” I muttered, still half asleep, burying my face into the pillow. I heard him laughing at this. The fucking dick.

“I’m afraid not, darling,” He said, I could tell he was grinning despite not seeing his face. He did enjoy teasing me from time to time. Early on in our relationship it had been quite patronizing, for I often took what were mostly joking remarks literally. But now that we had cleared the air with one another, he had become less severe in his banter and I began to tease him back sometimes. I reluctantly rose from the bed to see that he was already dressed, before heading into the bathroom to ready myself.

Six hours later, we parked the car in front of a quaint little restaurant. My family had not arrived yet, so we just sat there for a few moments. “Nervous?” Maxim asked, to which I nodded.

“I haven’t properly seen them in 3 years. I just hope…” I sighed. “I just hope it goes well,” 

“And it will. You’ve gained so much confidence in the last month. If nothing else, they’ll be glad to see it,” Maxim took my hand in his and planted a kiss upon it. I took a deep breath as we stepped out of the car, and I saw my aunt, uncle, and two of my cousins, Anna and Jonah, approach us.

“Ileana, how lovely to see you again. It’s been far too long,” my aunt greeted. Hearing my name spoken aloud felt therapeutic. Back at Manderley I was almost exclusively referred to as Mrs. de Winter, people were just so formal that way, and I had ceased all attempts to correct them. Maxim had said quite a few times that he loved my name, but even he mostly called me some variation of darling. Beatrice was actually the closest to using my name, opting for the nickname Ana.

It was certainly better than being called Azalea.

 “You as well, Aunt Mary,” I replied, a warm smile upon my face. 

“You look quite nice. Living in that big mansion seems to have changed your style,” my uncle David quipped, causing me to giggle, responding half jokingly that he had no idea. “And you must be the infamous Maxim. Welcome to Yorkshire,” my uncle slapped my husband on the back good naturedly. 

“You didn’t tell me you married your sugar daddy, Il’,” Jonah chimed in with that asshole-like charisma that only a boy of 15 can possess, causing his older sister to elbow him in the stomach before telling him to shut up.

“Jonah, don’t be rude,” Aunt Mary chastised her son. I turned to Maxim, who looked the slightest bit offended at my cousin’s remark, but clearly wasn’t going to waste time arguing with a teenager. 

“Don’t mind my brother,” Anna said boldly to my husband. “He tends to act like everyone is as immature as he and his mates are,” The young woman of 18 years chuckled before pulling me into a hug. Maxim replied that he would indeed pay no mind and we all entered the restaurant.

The meal passed by without much incident. Small talk and idle chatter ensued as we ate. Uncle David remarked that I was happier than he had seen me in many years. Aunt Mary replied to this stating that Maxim was clearly doing something right.

After our lunch, we headed for my family’s home. It looked almost exactly the same as it had when I had been living there. Maxim and I unloaded our luggage from the trunk. My aunt had been baffled back at the restaurant when we had told her we planned to book a hotel. She absolutely would not hear of it and insisted we stay in their guest room. Maxim especially did not wish to impose, but in the end we agreed to do so.

Anna had helped us carry our things up the stairs. “It’s certainly not as grand as your Manderley, but it’s still nice. Unfortunately you’re next door to Jonah, he tends to stay up late gaming and can be loud as hell,” She said, rolling her eyes. I certainly remembered that. He had gotten a PS4 for Christmas the year before I moved out. By that time the nightmares of Rebecca had been at their peak, so considering I wasn’t getting much sleep anyway, my younger cousin’s late night gaming on the weekends didn’t bother me then. 

“I see someone’s not changed a bit since I left,” I replied to Anna, sending the both of us into a fit of girlish giggles. Even Maxim, who hardly ever laughed in front of others aside from me, Beatrice, and his best friend Frank, managed a slight chuckle. 

The pitter patter of little footsteps caught my ear. My youngest cousin Lucy, a child of only 7, ran into the guest room. There was red lipstick all over her mouth. She had clearly been using either her mother or her sister’s makeup, and judging by the look on Anna’s face, she had done so without permission.

“ILEANA!” She practically screamed with joy, giving me the tightest hug I’d ever felt. I bent down to hug her back.

“Wow, you’ve gotten so much taller since I was here last. At this rate, you’ll end up taller than me one day,” I said to her, ruffling her hair. 

The little girl noticed Maxim, who had been chatting with Anna about her veterinary sciences studies at Oxford. At the moment they were discussing Anna’s classmates and they found out that Beatrice’s son Roger, also a medical student though not planning on becoming a veterinarian, shared a class with her. “Who’s that fancy looking man?” Lucy asked me. 

“That is my husband Maxim,” I cleared my throat to get his attention. He turned from Anna towards us. “Maxim, this is my little cousin Lucy,” I said with a smile. As soon as Lucy got a good look at him, she stared at me with an expression of unease.

“No need to be afraid. He’s really not so bad,” I assured the child. Maxim knelt down to her level and began to talk to Lucy.

“You’re almost as old as my dad,” Lucy said once she had gained her courage. 

Maxim took the blunt comment with good humor. “Really? I hadn’t realized. Your cousin makes me feel so young that I had quite forgotten,” He laughed.

“My mummy says you live in a castle,” Lucy suddenly changed the subject, her voice full of wonder. 

“Yes, we do,” Maxim replied in the most upbeat tone of voice he could conjure up. He had never been around many kids in his lifetime. He once told me he wouldn’t make a good father because he was so awkward around children. Of course, someday I would like to have kids of my own, but for now getting my mental health under control was my top priority.

“What’s it called again, Ileana?” She asked. “Man…Mandala?” 

“Manderley,” Maxim answered with a fond smile. Lucy remarked that the name was funny. Maxim replied that he supposed it was.

“I bet you get to dress like a princess every day, Ileana,” She then said to me with a giggle.

“Something like that,” I replied with a giggle of my own.

About an hour after we all had dinner, Anna, Jonah, Maxim, and I were all sitting at the table playing a round of Cards Against Humanity. Lucy had been sent to bed by her parents by then. I hadn’t played in years, but had always found the game quite fun. 

It was Jonah’s turn to judge the others’ cards. He read the prompt out loud to us. “This is your captain speaking. I regret to inform you that we cannot land the plane because we’ve run into…”

Each of us thumbed through our cards, eventually putting them into a messy pile in front of Jonah. The teen read the prompt along with each of our cards to finish the sentence. “…a motherfucking sorcerer” He set one card aside. Anna practically snorted.

“…a cat video so cute that your eyes roll back and your spine slides out of your anus” I blushed, for that card was mine.

“And finally,” Jonah began to laugh so hard that he had to stop and catch his breath. “…The primal, ball-slapping sex your parents are having right now,” He finally read aloud.

“Ok, who put that one? That one wins” He decided, still chuckling. Anna shrugged her shoulders. I insisted that it wasn’t me. And then all eyes turned to Maxim, who had the biggest smirk on his face I had ever seen from him.

Jonah handed the prompt card to him. “Who knew Mr. Posh over there had such a dirty mind,” He mused. “Although you must already know that, coz,” 

I knew exactly what he was implying and shook my head immediately. We had never had sex. If Maxim ever asked before I told him about me and Rebecca, I always made up some excuse as to why I couldn’t. As for after my disclosure, I simply told him the truth unprompted one day. That doing so would bring back too many bad memories. “No, that was a surprise even for me,” I stated simply. 

Later, Maxim and I were curled up in bed together. Neither of us were trying to sleep, and yet the night was peaceful. I hummed softly to myself as he ran his fingers through my hair, which I was beginning to grow out from the bob cut I had kept it in for years. 

“What do you think? Do you approve of my family?” I asked absentmindedly, mostly in jest.

“I quite like them, darling. It’s clear they care a great deal for you. Little Lucy especially won me over,” Maxim answered, a small smile forming.

“I’m surprised. You always told me you never know what to do around kids,” I teased as he continued to play with my hair.

“I don’t, but…” He paused, his brow raised in contemplation. He turned to face me. “Do you want kids, Ileana?” 

“I certainly wouldn’t mind having one or two someday…” I trailed off. He and I both knew what I would have said next.

But I don’t know how long it will be until I’m ready to even do what it takes to make a baby.

“Then I’ll wait until you’re ready to try. But if sex isn’t something you want, there are other ways,” He said, planting a kiss on my forehead.

I kissed him on the cheek in return before turning onto my side. I closed my eyes and felt myself sink into the pillow. Sleep would overtake me soon enough. But then…

“YOU DUMBASS! HOW DID YOU DIE SO QUICKLY?” I heard Jonah yell from the shared wall between the guest room and his room, presumably on voice chat with some of his friends. 

Maxim knocked on the wall so my cousin would hear. “Shut the fuck up! People are trying to sleep here,” He called out. Jonah apologized nonchalantly through the wall, after which Maxim let out a long suffering sigh and laid back down. “Teenagers, am I right?” He muttered. 

We were fortunate that no nightmares came that night. For once, we both slept peacefully. Quite the rarity, but I was grateful. Perhaps this trip had done more good than I had thought it would.

Chapter Text

Our time in Yorkshire seemed to fly by. After plenty of bonding with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, it was eventually time to return home. Maxim and I would not be at Manderley for long, having decided before this trip that we would settle our affairs and then spend at least the next few months traveling through Europe. Neither of us wanted to stay in our Cornish estate for longer than necessary. Perhaps we would return for good one day, perhaps we would sell it, perhaps Maxim would rewrite his will so that Beatrice or Roger would inherit it and do what they pleased with the house, but that was a decision to be made later.

We bid my family goodbye. I promised to consistently keep in touch from now on. They told us that their home was always open should we wish to visit again. We hopped into the car and began our six hour drive back to Kerrith. 

It was getting quite late, and Maxim and I had been on the road for quite some time, only stopping once to grab dinner. I had fallen asleep at some point, the gentle hum of the car and the soft music playing on the radio lulling me to slumber. However, I was woken with a start to a phone loudly ringing. I checked my phone and saw I had received quite a few texts from Frank, each telling me to have Maxim call him as soon as possible more urgently than the last.

The ringing became too much for Maxim and he finally pulled over to answer his phone. “Hello?” He said. Silence. “Frank, what’s going on? You sound winded,” He asked. More silence. Maxim’s face then turned pale. “Oh my god!” He cried out, pausing again to allow Frank to speak. “Ok, we’ll be there as soon as possible,” There was an urgency in his tone that frightened me a little. He turned to me, white as a sheet. “It’s Manderley! Frank says it’s on fire,” He told me, his voice reaching a fever pitch.

My eyes went wide as Maxim started the car up and began to drive as fast as he could within the speed limit. He was turning the wheel with all his might, his foot slammed so hard on the gas pedal that I feared it might break. Manderley on fire? How could it have happened? 

We arrived at the scene an hour later. The fire was still raging and firefighters were running in and out of the house. It seemed that most of the damage was in the west wing of the house. It didn’t take long for us to find Frank, for he came running as soon as he saw us get out of the car. “Is everyone alright?” I asked him worriedly. At the same time Maxim asked how the fire started.

“I wasn’t there when it started, but people are saying it started in the west wing. Rebecca’s old room. Apparently one of the maids was dusting the room and knocked over a lit candle she’d brought with her. There’s still a few people inside. The fire crew is trying to get them out,” Frank explained hurriedly. 

“Is there anything we can do?” Maxim asked. The fire chief then approached us before Frank could answer. He pulled Maxim and I aside, telling us that while the worst had passed, they would be here for a while to make sure the fire was completely put out and that we would need to find somewhere else to stay for the night. Other than the west wing, which was irreparably damaged, the rest of Manderley would be fine.

 Once we were sure that all survivors were out of the house, and those injured or dead would be taken to hospital, Maxim and I drove to the local inn and booked a room. The image of the proud Manderley burning was seared into both of our minds. I found it especially creepy that the west wing specifically contained the majority of the damage.

It was as if Rebecca had decided to taunt us from the grave.

By the time my next session with Dr. Bennett came around, I had been in the midst of a downward spiral. The nightmares relating to Rebecca had come back with a vengeance. This time not only containing flashbacks to the day I was raped, but now her rising from the grave, laughing in my face.

“Face it, ‘Azalea’. I’ve never truly left. I’ll always be near, watching, listening,” she would say.

Each time, without fail, I woke up screaming or in tears.

“Do you talk to Maxim about these new nightmares?” Dr. Bennett asked me.

I nodded my head yes. “I do, but there’s really only so much he can do. Especially when he’s dealing with his own nightmares,” I told her. “Neither of us have slept well at all since the fire,” I said before I began to bite my nails, a habit I had developed as a child that had never broken.

“Do you plan to rebuild the wing of Manderley that was destroyed?” Dr. Bennett asked as I bit down on my thumbnail.

I gave a shrug. “We’re leaving that decision to Frank, our estate agent,” When asked why we had done so, I told Dr. Bennett that Maxim and I planned to leave Manderley. That we were unsure if we would ever return.

“What made you decide to leave Manderley?” She inquired.

“We believe it will help us to forget our pasts,” I answered quickly, a certain confidence in my tone.

“You sound quite sure of that,” Dr. Bennett observed. “But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t offer you this advice. No one can completely forget their past. I think you and Maxim both are asking an impossible thing of yourselves. I don’t think it’s fair on either of you to expect yourselves to forget. You can move on, you can learn to live with the past, but you cannot force yourself to forget,” She told me in a firm voice.

I took a moment to digest what Dr. Bennett had said. “Maybe forget wasn’t the right word…but, we hope that leaving Manderley behind will be the best thing for us,” I rephrased.

“I would advise you to be careful. Traveling can be good for the soul, but if you use that as a means to run from your demons, it will do more harm than good,” Dr. Bennett stated. “Who knows, perhaps the two of you might change your minds and return to Manderley, or you might settle somewhere else entirely”

“You may be right. We’ll just have to see where fate takes us,” I replied. 

Dr. Bennett nodded. “Indeed, now about those possible signs of Autism you’ve told me about…”

Dr. Bennett had referred me to a doctor nearby who would perform an Autism evaluation on me. I had suspected I might have it for quite some time. When I was a child people would comment on my lack of social skills. My teachers would tell my parents, and later my aunt and uncle, that I tended to fidget and exhibit odd mannerisms during class. Anna and Jonah often became frustrated when I struggled to understand the jokes they told. Someone once told my aunt I ought to be tested for Autism, but the costs weren’t covered and she couldn’t afford it. Now that I could, it would be nice to get that confirmation.

We agreed that we would continue our sessions virtually whilst I was in Europe. After all, it wouldn’t be wise to constantly switch from therapist to therapist once Maxim and I left one place and went to another, and losing months of that support entirely just would not do either.

A week after my latest therapy session, Maxim and I had boarded a flight to Paris. Our travels turned out to be the perfect remedy for our troubles…at first. I found plenty of opportunities to create new sketches and paintings. After some encouragement from Maxim as well as a few strangers who happened to see my work, I took to setting up little stands in the plazas of whatever town we happened to be staying in and drawing portraits of people who asked for them. 

We did not speak of Manderley. We did not speak of our nightmares. For we knew. We each knew exactly what the other was going through. Of course, we comforted each other as best we could, but eventually that wasn’t enough. 

Maxim began to rapidly deteriorate. He had been a bit unlike himself since the fire, but while he was still attending therapy in England he was still somewhat stable. He had not continued his treatment virtually like I had. Though I had attempted to convince him to do so, he insisted he would be fine. It resulted in an argument, and I had been afraid he would fly into a rage. He did not, but nonetheless I dropped the subject from then on.

One day, everything changed. We were in Madrid and I had come from drawing portraits in the square. I found the main room of our hotel suit empty and completely silent, which was the first sign something was wrong. Maxim didn’t often leave the safety of our hotels, and if he did he would text me if he was not going to be there if I was out, but I had received no such text today. I called his name, but received no answer.

It was then I noticed the bedroom door was left ajar. I walked inside. It was then I heard him. He was muttering something indistinguishable, he sounded like he was in tears. This had never happened before as far as I knew. I knew Maxim’s nightmares tended to be quite graphic in nature, but never did I think that his turmoil extended to during the day.

“Maxim?” I approached him. He was facing away from me, staring off into the distance out the window. When he did not respond I said his name once more. He then turned around, although he did not look me in the eye. Tears were rapidly streaming down his cheeks. He began to convulse back and forth.

“Leave me alone. Leave me alone, god damn it! You’re dead. You’re fucking dead!” He said, as if he were meant to be yelling, but it only came out in choked sobs.

“Maxim, I-“ I attempted to bring him back to reality by taking his hand, but he pulled it away with such force. He grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me.

“Why do you insist on tormenting me day in and day out? From beyond the grave. Well, you’ve won. You’ve fucking won, Rebecca!” He cried, slightly losing his balance as he let me go before grabbing onto the bedpost for support. He allowed himself to sink to the floor, continuing to mutter incoherently, looking at me with an accusatory expression. 

He thinks I’m her.

I knelt down by his side, feeling a little afraid. I wasn’t sure what I should do, but nonetheless began to speak to Maxim as gently as I could. “It’s me, darling. It’s Ileana,” I attempted. “I need you to breathe for me. Breathe, my love,” 

He must have heard me, because his breaths became more steady. He was still crying, but no longer convulsing. His eyes closed, opening again a moment later. “Ileana?” He spoke, his voice sounding more fragile than I had ever heard. Not even during his murder confession did he sound so broken.

“Oh my god, I thought…I thought you were Rebecca. Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t think you would be here to see…Did I hurt you?” He asked suddenly. 

“No. No, it’s alright. I’m fine. No, I’m not. I’m worried. What I saw, it…it wasn’t you, ” I told him, my voice quivering just a bit.

“Y-You’re right, it wasn’t. I swear to God, I don’t know what came over me. But she’s everywhere. Manderley is everywhere. I can’t escape. I can’t escape. I can’t-“ He choked back a sob. I rubbed his back for a few moments.

“Maxim, I need you to tell me the truth. Is this the first time this happened? How long has this been going on?” I asked him, a seriousness in my voice that I rarely ever used.

“Since…” He paused, as if searching the recesses of his mind to find the answer. “Since Amsterdam,” He finally admitted, as if he were a child who had been caught cheating on a math test.

Amsterdam. Our second stop. 3 months ago.

“Oh my god,” I choked out. This is why he rarely goes outside these days. This is why he’s seemed so far away lately. He kept these vicious attacks from me for 3 months.  

“You’re disappointed, Ileana. I know you are,” He said flatly.

“No, not disappointed. I’m terrified for you. I wish you hadn’t kept this from me, but Maxim…” I sighed. “This is why you shouldn’t have stopped your therapy sessions,” I said to him. 

“Therapy or not, they still would have happened. Manderley, god forsaken Manderley. It’s left me broken. Terrified,” He said, a low growl escaping his throat, though quite never reaching true anger.

“Then let me help you, darling. Let me take your pain away,” I gently pulled him into an embrace, making sure not to hold on too tight. “I’m here. I’m right here,”

Chapter Text

“And this went on without your knowledge for 3 months? What was he thinking ?” Beatrice sighed exasperatedly through the phone.

“I don’t know and that’s the problem. He’s been getting worse by the day. I’m able to do less and less for him as time goes on,” I replied. “I’ve gotten in contact with his therapist and convinced them to start up virtual sessions, but he’s not improving at all,” My voice broke as I spoke to my sister in law. “I don’t know what to do, Bea!”

“Ana, dearest, you need to come home,” Beatrice said, her voice laced with sympathy. “If Maxim continues down this path…I don’t want to even think of what might happen,”

“Neither do I. He’s barely sleeping. He’s not eating. He’s lost so much weight. It’s as if he’s wasting away before my eyes,” I felt a stray tear fall.

“Can I talk to him, Ana? I want to at least try to get through to him,” Bea spoke up after a moment of silence.

“You can try, Bea. I don’t know if you’ll get very far, but you can try,” I said. I walked into the main room of our suite. Maxim was sitting on the couch watching a cricket match on the TV. He had had another attack this morning, and it had taken almost a half hour for me to talk him down from it.

“Maxim, Bea wants to talk to you,” I told him, handing him my phone. He turned the volume on the TV down a few notches, holding the phone close to his ear. 

“Hello Beatrice,” Maxim said with a sigh. Silence. “I’m doing alright,” Silence once more. Bea must have told him he was not in fact alright, because he immediately snapped. “I don’t know what she’s been telling you, but I’m fine, ok?” He sighed once more, apologizing to his sister for snapping. Another moment of silence. “For the last time, Bea, the answer’s no,” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. “I do not need to come home. You want me to come home. There’s a difference,” Silence again. “Alright then, book the flight…” He said with sarcasm. “Look, I really don’t want to fight with you…You too, goodbye,” 

Maxim handed my phone back to me. Beatrice thanked me for letting her try to talk some sense into her brother. “You’re welcome,” I said, to which she responded that she loved me. “Love you too, Bea. I’ll call again soon,” I told her. She hung up the phone.

True to her word, Bea did in fact book Maxim and I a flight back to England. My husband protested quite a bit, but I put my foot down and refused to budge. “You’re not going to get any better if we continue to run. We don’t have to go back to Manderley, but I can’t just sit here and let you allow yourself to fade away,” I told him. This must have hit a nerve within him, for he finally agreed to return to England after almost a year of self imposed exile.

Bea put us up in the guest house on her estate. During our travels, Frank had updated us on the state of Manderley. He had decided to go through with making all the minor repairs needed to the house, but would leave the west wing as if it never existed now that all the rubble had been cleared.

“Some things are better left buried,” He had said on one of his many phone calls to me. I had agreed with him.

I had to drive Maxim to his therapy sessions to make sure he went there. I had been out in the nearby village during what was supposed to be his first in person session since we had returned to England. When I got back, Bea told me he hadn’t gone. I asked Maxim what caused him to skip and he said something about him being beyond help. 

“Another attack?” I had asked with a sigh.

He nodded. “I forced myself to sleep for an hour afterward,”

“That’s a start at least,” I told him, trying to hold onto the positives. 

His therapist eventually figured out that counseling on its own was not enough to get Maxim’s mental health under control. He was referred to a psychiatrist in London. I insisted on going with him to the appointment. I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t attempt to downplay the state he was in.

“I’m glad your therapist referred you to me,” The psychiatrist said after he had performed all necessary tests on Maxim. I did not know what they were as he had been taken into another room while I was made to wait.

“Please don’t beat around the bush, Doctor. I must know what’s wrong with me,” Maxim urged. I squeezed his hand as if to help prepare him for whatever came out of the psychiatrist’s mouth.

“It seems that you have all the classic signs of PTSD,” the doctor informed us. I asked how it could be treated. The doctor recommended Maxim continue with therapy, but also prescribed some medication to help temper the attacks.

I joined up with a support group for neurodivergent adults. My Autism diagnosis had been confirmed shortly after Maxim and I began our travels to Europe. I embraced this new development, but still it was nice to meet others with shared experiences. 

More shared experiences than one, I would later find out.

“Welcome, Ileana,” The group leader, a woman named Maria, greeted. Everyone introduced themselves and their diagnoses. 

“When did you get your Autism diagnosis?” A woman my age, Chiara, asked me.

“About a year ago. It took a long time to be able to afford the testing, but I’d been showing signs since childhood,” I answered.

“Yep, that’s pretty much how it is for us girls,” Chiara sat back in her chair nonchalantly. “Even if you can afford testing, they tend to brush things off in us as quirky that boys with the same signs get diagnosed for in a heartbeat,” She said drolly.

The support group turned out to be quite good for me. I was immediately welcomed into the fold, even added into a Discord chat for the group’s members. It was nice to find a new group of friends. After the first session, I was approached by a man named Ben. He looked to be around Maxim’s age, maybe a few years younger. 

“I’ve seen you before,” He said to me rather cryptically. Before I could ask him what he meant, he spoke again. “You’re from Manderley,”

“I am…well, I was , but I don’t live there anymore,” I replied. I hadn’t anticipated to encounter anyone from Manderley aside from Frank. Most of the house staff had found work elsewhere around the country and the tenants usually only heard from us through messages we relayed through Frank.

“I saw you with the first one. She won’t come back now,” Ben revealed as if it were the most casual thing in the world. My eyes went wide. The first one? Did he mean Rebecca? Ben had seen me that day?

The boathouse. That hungry look in her eyes. Her cold smile that still haunted my very soul. My clothes tossed aside on the floor. Her hands upon my body. Bruises on my neck. That searing pain in my groin. The world spinning around me. Heavy, strained breaths as my feet ran through the woods.

“I-I don’t understand…” I looked up at the ceiling, then back toward Ben. 

Rebecca catching up to me. Holding me close. Telling me that all was well. Offering to drive me back to catch the train home. Sitting in her car as we drove in silence. Some rap song playing on the radio.  

“She tried to put me in the mental hospital. She said ‘You ain’t seen me here and you won’t again, or I’ll put you in a mental hospital.’ She won’t come back,” Ben continued, his voice shaking something fierce. He kept muttering: “She won’t come back. She won’t come back”. I felt for him. I really did, and I wanted to express as much, but all I could do was repeat the very same mantra in my head.

She won’t come back…won’t she?

“You’re better than her. You have angel’s eyes,” Ben told me. I had barely registered what he said. My mind was elsewhere. I managed a somewhat coherent “thank you” before rushing out to my car, leaving Ben behind.

A soft, cushy seat on the train. Aunt Mary texting me, asking where I was. Crying uncontrollably. An old lady sitting across from me asking what was wrong. A swift lie passing through my lips. Arriving home to Uncle David angrily admonishing me for lying about where I had gone. Being grounded for a month. Taking the punishment well enough, but not Rebecca’s sudden abandonment. Hiding in my room. More questions about what had me so depressed. Lying through my teeth: “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine!”

“I’m not fine. I’m not fine! I’M NOT FINE!” I screamed, the memory bleeding into my reality as I pressed harder on the gas pedal. 

Returning to Manderley on Maxim’s arm. Finding Rebecca’s things all over the place. Maxim’s rages at the slightest reminder of her. Mrs. Danvers using every opportunity to slight me. The Halloween party. Maxim’s confession. My confession. The investigation. The fire!

I pulled up to the guest house, nearly hyperventilating as I stepped out of the car. Beatrice happened to be walking down the path to the guest house. She must have been on her way there. My sister in law approached me with an easy smile. “You arrived in the nick of time. I was just about to ask if you and Maxim wanted to go with Giles and I to the-…Ana, what’s wrong?” She asked, her expression turning grave.

“I-I…flashback…Rebecca” I choked out.

Beatrice looked at me with confusion. “Ana, what are you talking about? What does Rebecca have to do with anything?” She questioned, filled with worry. When I didn’t answer, she led me inside. She helped me to the couch, telling me she’d be back in a few moments with some tea before heading into the kitchen.

Maxim must have heard his sister come in, for he showed up in the living room only a moment later. “Ileana, darling, is everything alright? How was your meeting?” He asked, sitting down next to me and wrapping an arm around my waist.

I shook my head, having calmed a little. “It went well…for the most part,” I sighed before telling him about meeting Ben, the things he had said to me, and the memories that had been triggered. 

Bea came in with the tea and sat on the other side of me. “You said you had a flashback about Rebecca. Do you want to talk about it? Of course, you don’t have to. Only if you want,” She said with a gentle tone.

“You don’t know this, but I knew Rebecca before she died…” I told my sister in law everything. She looked absolutely astonished by what I had to say. By the time I had finished telling her my story, her expression had morphed from shock into anger.

“Oh Ana, you poor dear,” Bea hugged me quickly. When she pulled away she let out a grunt, throwing her hands up into the air. “That absolute fucking bitch! How could she do that to an innocent person? If she were still alive I would march right up to her and throttle her myself,” She rambled. 

“No one is throttling anyone, Bea,” Maxim said in a remarkable show of restraint. Quite surprising coming from the man who had killed Rebecca.

“Come now, brother dearest. The only one who should get to throttle her is Ileana,” Bea chuckled. I did so as well in spite of myself. Bea always had a way of making me laugh even in the most serious of situations, and I relished in it.

We finished our tea, eventually turning the conversation to more lighthearted topics. According to Bea, Roger was seeing a new girl at university. They had gone on a few dates and were planning to make things official. “And who is this mystery girl?” Maxim had asked with a smirk.

“Her name is Anna Lyons. She’s a veterinarian major,” Bea said.

“You’re kidding, that’s my cousin,” I said with a fond smile. I was quite happy for her. I would definitely have to text Anna my congratulations later.

“What a small world. If she’s related to you, I have no doubt she’ll be wonderful for my son,” Bea beamed.

After a while, Bea left to go get ready for her outing with Giles. Maxim and I accepted the invitation to go along with them, making it a double date. We didn’t talk anymore about my earlier flashback, but it had been a huge relief to tell Beatrice about it. As the four of us laughed, joked, and bathed in the happiness of the moment, I was struck with the feeling that things were only to get better from here.

Chapter Text

Months went by, and just as I had predicted, our lives only continued to improve. Maxim sold his London home and we used the money to have a house built for us only a few minutes drive from Beatrice and Giles’ estate. Manderley itself would continue to stand empty, but the tenants living on the estate would be able to continue living there. It was much better that way as far as we were concerned. There were people who questioned why we didn’t just sell Manderley outright, but we had our reasons. The main one being that Maxim was still attached to the land it resided upon and he wanted to somehow keep it within the family. Whether that be my relations or his remains to be seen.

The subject of children came up quite a few times. I was still quite uncomfortable with the idea of having sex, and so we decided that once the new house was built, we would begin to look into the adoption process. The prospect of building onto our family brought me so much joy.

My mental health, as well as Maxim’s, improved immensely over time. We began to actually discuss our therapy sessions with one another and that helped us hold ourselves and each other accountable. There were still PTSD attacks on Maxim’s part. Those would not be going away completely, but now that I knew how to help him through them and see the signs that one was coming, they became much easier to handle. 

Of course, we did keep in touch with our nearest and dearest. Bea, Giles, and Roger were a given, but my family in Yorkshire often exchanged calls and texts with Maxim and I. Anna even came down to Cornwall with Roger during their spring holidays to meet Bea and Giles. She had been texting me the entire journey there about how nervous she was. My cousin really wanted to make a good first impression on her boyfriend’s parents.

Anna: Roger says his mum is really blunt. I hope she likes me or I doubt I’ll hear the end of it.

Me: Don’t worry, Bea is the absolute sweetest. She’s going to love you. She told me so herself :)

Anna: You better be right, Ileana.

Me: Trust me!!! It’s going to go so well. And if it doesn’t, I’ll tell Bea to go shove it XD

Anna: You’d do that? I doubt you have it in you ;)

Me: Doubt all you want, but if it comes to that you’ll see.

My friends from the support group often kept me on my toes. Plenty of voice chats, game nights, and trips to the cinema occupied my time. 

Chiara: Bonfire at my place tonight. Bring your own drinks. Be there or be square ;)

Me: Hell yea! See you then!

Alex: I’ll bring the keg

Ben: I’m so down

Derek: Anyone need a ride there?

Katie: PARTY TIME BITCHES!!!!!

The house was finished after 6 months of building and furnishing. Maxim and I moved in soon after. It wasn’t as big or luxurious as Manderley, but it was ours. The land surrounding it was expansive, perfect for going on long walks. I began to refocus on my art skills, mostly for my own pleasure, but selling some paintings as personal commissions or to shops that sold home decor. It’s not like we needed the extra money, but it made me feel fulfilled.

One day, I was in my art room painting away when I heard a soft knock. Maxim poked his head through the door. His phone in hand.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, darling,” He said, a smile on his face.

“Not at all. I was just finishing up,” I replied with a giggle. I stood up from my little stool, setting my paint brush into a little container of water.

“I come bearing good news. The adoption agency in London just called. They want us to come and meet one of the children in their care. Apparently her foster family couldn’t keep her any longer and they’re hoping for a permanent adoption,” Maxim explained to me. My heart lit up at the news. I didn’t expect to hear back from them so soon after filling out all the necessary paperwork and the all important home inspections.

“Oh how wonderful! Did they tell you anything about her?” I asked him.

Maxim nodded. “All I know is that her name is Ellison, she’s a little under a year old, and her biological parents died in a boating accident,” He told me.

I expressed my sympathy for the parents. “When do they want us to come and meet her?” I asked him, to which he responded this Friday.

Friday came and we drove to London filled with excitement. We arrived at the adoption agency and were welcomed in with open arms. The woman who had arranged the meeting, Miss Williams, told us to follow her into a room where plenty of children were playing. Some of the older ones looked at Maxim and I with wide, hopeful eyes. I wanted to take them all home.

“This way,” Miss Williams said to us. She led us to the back of the room where a young woman was watching over a group of babies who were crawling around. 

“Martha, this is Mr. and Mrs. de Winter, the couple hoping to adopt Ellison,” Miss Williams said. The woman, Martha, shook our hands as we exchanged greetings. Martha then scooped up one of the babies in her arms, informing us that this was Ellison. 

“Would you like to hold her, Mrs. de Winter?” Martha asked. I nodded, smiling brightly. Martha handed the little baby to me, giving me tips on how to properly hold her. I took a good look at Ellison, and she was absolutely adorable. Ironically, she looked a bit like Maxim. Or at least, some of Maxim’s family that I had seen photographs of, despite there being absolutely no relation.

“Hi, aren’t you the absolute cutest?” I said in a high pitched voice, causing Ellison to coo. I was instantly in love.

“She’s perfect, darling,” Maxim said, looking over my shoulder. I could tell that he too was enamored.

After an hour, our time was up. Miss Williams gave us a few more forms to fill out before we left. The final adoption papers that a judge would approve in a matter of time. Maxim and I went home with a sense of hope. A new chapter of our lives was to begin soon.

Beatrice and I spent the next week shopping for baby clothes and other supplies. She was so excited to have a niece to spoil rotten. Maxim, meanwhile, had thrown himself into decorating the room that would serve as the nursery. His enthusiasm for his upcoming fatherhood was evident and came as a little bit of a surprise. Awkwardness around kids would be something to overcome. 

Our family was complete. Our future was bright. If I would have been told shortly after that day I met Rebecca at Manderley that my life would turn out like this, I would’ve told that person that they were a liar, that they simply wished to taunt me. But now, I was here, living my life feeling as content as ever. 

I guess it’s true what they say about love that liberates. Love in the romantic sense, sure. But also in the familial, the platonic. Love that does not conquer all, but love that liberates.

Chapter Text

5 years later…

I made the finishing touches to my hair, carefully putting it into an updo with a braided crown, a few blonde strands framing my face. It was the day of Anna and Roger’s wedding. The whole family had been waiting for this day for months. Ellison was especially excited to participate as a flower girl. 

“Ileana, are you ready? They’re waiting for us,” Lucy said, snapping me out of my reverie. The two of us, along with four of Anna’s closest friends, were bridesmaids. The bride herself had chosen a light green color palate for our dresses to keep with the enchanted forest theme of the wedding. 

“Yea, I’m ready,” I replied to my cousin, now a girl of 13 with an impeccable sense of fashion. After we both checked ourselves in the mirror one last time, we went into the parlor to join the rest of the bridal party. Anna looked absolutely stunning in her form fitting wedding gown and matching veil. She was whispering something in Ellison’s ear, causing my daughter to laugh heartily as she clutched her little basket of rose petals tight to her chest.

Eventually it was time for the ceremony itself to begin. Roger stood at the altar with the priest. A slow classical piano piece began to play. Ellison and the little boy who served as ring bearer walked down the aisle, leaving flower petals in their wake before taking their places in front of the altar. One by one, us bridesmaids paired off with the groomsmen and we formed a line bookended by the two children. Lastly came Anna, who was given away by Uncle David.

As the priest gave a long speech about love, God, and the sanctity of marriage, I took a glance at the guests and the people around me. Maxim was half listening to what the priest was saying, half watching Ellison and I. Beatrice was crying tears of joy while Giles comforted her, beaming at his son all the while. Aunt Mary and Uncle David were in a similar situation, except they were both crying. Ellison, ever the angelic little thing, was smiling brightly, intently listening to the speech. Lucy was desperately trying not to tug at the fabric of her dress. On the other side of the altar, Jonah looked at his older sister and new brother in law with pride. And of course, the bride and groom themselves were focused only on each other as they waited to exchange their vows.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband…” The priest began. Anna nodded her head, replying with an enthusiastic “I do”.

The priest then turned to Roger. “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife…” Roger cut the priest off mid sentence with an “I do” of his own.

The couple was officially pronounced husband and wife, sealed with the traditional kiss. The whole room applauded the newlyweds, some of the more bold guests gave loud whoops and cheers. We all headed out of the church with our hearts and spirits lifted. The bridal party piled into a limousine rented for the occasion to go to the reception.

Maxim had sold the Manderley estate to Roger and Anna shortly before they announced their engagement publicly. His hope (and mine) was that the young couple would be able to make a home out of the estate that we couldn’t. The reception would be held there. They had renovated it to their liking and were moving in this very night, having vacated their rented flat near the Oxford campus now that they had both graduated.

Some of the bridal party were chatting away, the best man had even managed to sneak in a bottle of wine and began pouring glasses for everyone. Ellison looked up at me with her signature playful smile. “What was your wedding like, Mummy?” She asked me, her eyes bright with curiosity.

I looked at my daughter with a fond smile. “Well, we didn’t exactly have a wedding,” I explained to her.

“What? Then how are you and Papa even married?” Ellison asked with confusion.

I gave a slight chuckle at the question. “We did something called eloping. It’s where you get married but don’t spend all that money on a big ceremony,” I told her. It was a pretty watered down version of the beginnings of my marriage to Maxim, those details could wait until Ellison was older. 

“Oh, maybe I’ll elope when I’m a grownup,” Ellison said as naturally as if she were commenting on the weather. Some of the bridesmaids around us began to giggle at this.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, my love,” I said with a little laugh.

We arrived at Manderley a few moments later. The first thing I noticed was that the inside looked almost nothing like it had when I lived there with Maxim. I thanked the powers that be for that. It certainly eased my mind to know that the shadows that once haunted the place had been all but forced out. Guests were piling into the ballroom. As the newlyweds and bridal party sat at the table in the center of the room, the DJ began to play some catchy pop music to get everyone into a partying mood. I could see Maxim and Ellison sitting at a table with the ring bearer and his parents. The kids were clearly getting along great, but I could tell Maxim was bored to tears by the other two adults. Perhaps I’d rescue him later.

The best man and maid of honor gave their speeches. The former being more than a little inebriated from drinking wine in the limo. Anna’s father/daughter dance with Uncle David started off the night’s dancing. The mother/son dance with Roger and Bea followed. And of course, there was the first dance between the bride and groom. Other couples slowly began to join in. 

I stood and made my way over to Maxim. He looked relieved to see me coming and began to walk towards me. “Shall we?” He held out his hand to me.

“Yes,” I said with an affectionate smile as I took his hand. He led me to the dance floor and we joined in with the waltz. I wasn’t exactly the most grateful dancer, but Maxim didn’t seem to mind as he guided me through the steps. As we danced, I thought back to the infamous Halloween party nearly 6 years ago. This time, however, I was able to think of it without embarrassment or fear. We had not danced that night, for I had been in the thralls of a panic attack and he had stormed off in a rage. It was as if tonight was our second chance.

“What are you thinking, darling?” Maxim asked in a low yet playful tone.

“Just our last party here, and how this one is much better,” I replied coyly. 

He laughed darkly. “I was a right asshole then,”

“You were, but you were my asshole,” I replied with a smirk.

The rest of the reception went off without a hitch. Drinks were served. The bridal bouquet was thrown. The in-laws were in good company with one another. The bride and groom were very much in love. Eventually it was time for everyone to go home. Ellison was so energized during the ride home, but ended up falling asleep from a sugar crash as soon as she reached her bedroom.

I slept comfortably, a new feeling of relief washing over me. Although I did still dream of Manderley, my dreams were no longer the horrific stuff of nightmares. Instead they turned to something else, something hopeful. I began to dream of Manderley as it was now, as it could be. No longer my home. No longer my prison. No longer the host of haunted pasts.

No longer the place that held such power over me.  

As the years passed by, I began to take up writing. It started off as poems and short stories, but quickly began to evolve into longer works. As I approached middle age, and then into what people called ‘the golden years’, I began to write a memoir. It would never be published, at least not by my own doing, but it was my most prized work. 

Manderley no longer had the grip on my psyche it once had. Rebecca de Winter was nothing more than a dead woman. No longer a ghost that haunted my every waking moment. The words of time had indeed lost their hold. It was a way of reclaiming the trauma that had once haunted me as a young woman. Creating something from it. Making it into a triumph rather than a tragedy. The words on the pages wove a story similar to that of gothic novels from times gone by. It was my reality, our reality, but in the end I wouldn’t change a moment of it. I sincerely believed that that shy, lost 17 year old I had once been would be proud of the confident woman I had become.

My story began with nine words. Nine words that used to serve as a bad omen. A reminder of what I had endured. In a way they still did, but my perspective had long since changed. They were as follows… 

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.