A/N: This story came out of a dream I had about a modern version of the S5 CS ending. It's essentially a modern take on Anna and Bates's love story, keeping a lot of canon elements but also adapting them slightly too (and not including everything canon...). Hopefully you'll find it enjoyable.
I don't own Downton Abbey or any of its characters (but I do own any Baby Bateses that may pop up...).
With thanks to fuzzydream for an important detail.
Love Will Bring You Back To Me
It was simply another day. The sun shining out the last of its golden rays as it took to its slow retreat amidst the sky. A few cars going past in the quiet street outside, distant shouts of playful children and the echo of birdsong, their tunes having changed from the morning.
Signs of life.
Life that still went on, somehow.
Anna tore herself away from the window, switching off the radio that she had been using to keep her company. It was too early for love songs. A soundtrack for the longing and the hopeful, but the lonely most of all. Whatever they were for, she could do without it. She had no mind to let her tears start to flow now, even with the presence of the ache that had been growing in her throat for the past hour.
The house was neat and gleaming, not a thing out of place. Her hands were restless with nothing to do after so much work that hadn't really needed to be done. She didn't want to bake this evening, and it would be selfish to go quietly up the stairs, waking the little mite after he'd not long been put to sleep.
I need a reminder.
Her phone ignored – another several messages from Mary – she took the leather-backed album from its drawer, sliding it shut as she breathed in. Nobody had understood why she wanted to have such a keepsake, not in this day and age. She was sentimental, she supposed. She had such vivid memories of sitting bundled next to her grandmother, small and sticky hands held carefully away from the old photographs, coloured from another age, looking like they'd been soaked in the tea that they'd left over. Faces she knew only from the frames in front of her, including her own grandfather. Lost in the last few days of war, she was told the story when she got older. Her grandmother, rest her soul, didn't have the breath to talk about it. She had her memories, though, kept safe and always ready to come back to life.
She sat in the chair without a second thought, and didn't understand why she had been so set against it now.
"Who cares what it looks like when it's so comfortable?"
"John...don't look at me like that."
Sometimes his smiles were infuriating, but she wouldn't deny her love at them. She really had no case, not whenever he was in such close proximity. If only he'd come closer, so that she could kiss him easily...
"It just doesn't go with the rest of the room. It sticks out like a sore thumb."
"Well then," he fixed her with a smouldering gaze as he gripped the arms of the chair in the same way he'd possess her hips, sinking the majesty of his figure down into the welcoming seat, "I suppose it'll just have to be mine then."
There had been the nights that she had climbed there with him, curling against his lap, when they filled the room with their laughs and the soft sounds of their kisses. It wouldn't be too long until they departed upstairs, but they savoured every moment being closer than close could be.
Too many nights she had been on her own, with only the pictures to console her.
She turned over the pages with their glossed films covering over, keeping them both protected. Something that the world wasn't always able to do, as had been proved too clearly and often too painfully. Surprisingly, her smile rose up even while her sadness lingered, taking her time on each image before her, cradling the album tighter.
The years could be charted, the subtle changes marked. As she moved past one after another she saw the couple of extra lines etched on his face, the barely noticeable flecks of grey that were starting to streak his temples.
His voice seemed to be louder than ever, and she winced a little as she thought for a minute – wrongly, foolishly – that she could feel his arms around her and his breath tickling the back of her neck.
"You'll regret it one day, you know," he had whispered after kissing her so deeply that she honestly believed they were the last two people remaining on earth. "Falling in love with a man like me."
Her breath released from the caverns of her lungs, shaking her head as she remained in the chair with nobody to bear witness to her promise. The promise that remained the same and unshakeable even with all that had passed.
"I never could," she said aloud.
She looked up to the sky, the clouds making it clear that it was going to rain soon enough. April hadn't proved to herald the start of Spring thus far. Still, she was going to make the most of the fresh air while it held off, the pub getting too cramped and noisy.
A wry smile came to her face as she supposed she could ask for nothing less on a Friday night in a town that didn't exactly have the most to offer in the way of nightlife. She had enjoyed herself, not having to pretend too much. It was always the case that a couple of them amongst their party were rather louder than the others, and as it turned out, it was the usual suspects. Ethel had nudged her a few times, saying that she should go over and make herself known to the group of guys who had taken up almost half the pub. She didn't seem to understand that not everyone needed attention, or even the slightest suggestion of a quick kiss or forgotten fumble by the end of the night.
Anna combed out the ends of her hair with her fingers, her cardigan not really keeping out the chill as she stared off into space.
"May I join you?"
The stranger's voice was deep and soft, and she wasn't all that startled to find him standing close by when she turned around, though he maintained enough of a distance to be respectable and really quite gentlemanly.
"Be my guest."
She smiled up at him, feeling a touch shy as he settled onto the little wooden bench, not too far from her side.
He was a stranger in the clearest sense of the word, but he didn't feel like one to her. She had caught his eye from across the room a few points throughout the night, and he had held the door open for her as she had ventured to the restroom. They'd even shared a smile or two while everybody else had been oblivious, or too interested in having their own fun.
Anna wasn't used to doing that sort of thing. It wasn't outrageous by any stretch of the imagination – certainly not by Ethel's – but she had to admit that she felt a frisson. When usually she would look away, she was rather glad that she'd kept her ground in this case. A few smiles and glances hardly meant anything, of course, and they'd likely forget that the other existed in a couple of days time. But it seemed, to her at least, as though something had been forged. Her heart wasn't quite skipping beats alarmingly but she had been struck by a certain feeling, one that she couldn't quite pin down, only to the degree that it sent warmth throughout her whole body. Quite enough that she didn't feel the cold of the evening any longer.
She felt a connection with this almost, not-quite stranger, and it was quite remarkable.
"You don't smoke, do you?" she enquired when she saw him reaching into his pocket.
He smiled gently, retrieving a rattling tin of peppermints.
"I gave up a few years ago," he said, and she felt relieved, even though she had the strangest thought that he might actually suit a cigarette held between his fingers. "Same with drinking."
"You must have some downfalls." She offered him a smile as he offered out the open tin to her, and she placed the mint between her lips, looking at his all the while.
"I stay up too late. And eat more chocolate than is good for me."
She shrugged her shoulders barely. "We all do that. If anything, I'd say that's a definite advantage. I wouldn't trust anyone who didn't like chocolate."
He laughed and somehow she sensed that it might have been something foreign to him. It was a genuine laugh, right from his stomach, and Anna felt more pleased about causing it than anything she'd done for a while.
"Well, I'm glad that I have your trust."
They shared a smile that was easy, like the kind that passed between two people who'd known each other for years and had shared deepest joys and sympathies. How that was even possible, she couldn't conceive.
From this close she noticed the colour of his eyes; hazel, she supposed a passive regarder might describe them. That didn't seem accurate enough to do them justice.
"What's the occasion?" he asked, the pink feather boa draped around her neck not making it obvious, apparently.
"Friend's hen party," she replied with a begrudging smile. "The fun was getting just a little too wild. How about you?"
"Battalion night out," he answered, a little reluctantly.
She had been trying to guess for the best part of the night what he might have done for an occupation. His eyes were kind and thoughtful, introspective almost. That made her think a caring profession of some sort, a social worker maybe. His broad build told a different story, strong shoulders and arms catching her attention beneath his shirt. She second guessed at policeman or fireman.
"A soldier," she affirmed for herself, thinking that it wasn't what she expected but that it also made sense. He seemed noble, fitting the bill. "That's very brave of you."
He lowered his gaze momentarily. "Brave or otherwise stupid."
Her hand reached to touch him, only for a split second, though with one brief touch it was almost like seeing forever before her.
"Sorry," she uttered quietly. Whatever had come over her? He only responded with a smile. She looked him squarely in the eyes, feeling the same rush. "You shouldn't put yourself down. Honestly, it must be one of the hardest things to do."
He was too modest – or too world-weary - to argue the other side of the same coin, the side she wasn't referring to.
"I'm just getting used to the place," he said, his gaze looking around. "Moved up here not two months ago. It probably won't be long before we get the call."
She smiled sadly for a moment or two, before she decided that there was no use in spending the time being so troubled. Life can deal you a funny hand of cards, her mother used to say, but you have to make the most of what you're given.
They talked for a long time that night, and this noble not-quite stranger – a Sergeant John Bates – reserved his most sincere smile for when she handed him her number and an offer that she be his guide around the small Yorkshire town of Downton.
Seven blissful, perfect months spent getting to know one another, with hardly a day spent apart. Anna hadn't expected to feel so happy in such a short space of time and he couldn't have been more adorable than when he asked her, in something of a roundabout way, whether they might consider being something more than friends. She didn't know whether to kiss him or call him a silly beggar. She ended up doing both, the second before the first, and the first happening with greater frequency, to both of their delight. They were lucky indeed. Lucky to have found each other.
When the day came for his leaving, she didn't hide her tears. He held her close in his arms, quieted her sobs with his reassurances.
"It won't be long," he told her gently, brushing her hair from her face and memorising the softness beneath his fingertips. "The thought of seeing your face again is what'll keep me going."
She managed a bright smile for him, holding his hand until the very last second.
The picture of him she held in her hand not long afterwards would keep her going too, and just for now, it would have to be enough.
"I don't understand." Her voice was laced with hurt and a touch of anger, confusion cutting deep. "Do you know what I had to do to find out about you, where you were? A note, John. Not even a letter."
She wavered, stifling the sob that was about to break free with her hand against her mouth. Still, her shoulders shuddered.
Before she came, she wasn't certain of the extent of his injury, only knowing that it was bad enough for him to be sent back home for treatment and become discharged from duty immediately. Likely for the rest of time. Even in those few words he'd sent to her she could find his despair, and her stomach had soured. She had steeled herself for the worst, prepared to find him almost unrecognisable, knowing that it wouldn't have mattered to her. There wasn't a single scratch upon his face, the only unfamiliar aspect being the beard that had grown rather scruffy. His right leg didn't move beneath the standard grey blanket. A dead weight, it seemed.
He wasn't looking at her. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."
"Then you're more of a fool than I ever thought." The words came out raw, wrought from her aching heart. She gathered herself quickly, knowing she had to be the strong one. "How could you ever think I'd give up on you? Walk away, without a chance to reply." She fought hard not to burst into tears. "I know it hasn't been long, but in the time I've been with you, I'm the happiest I've ever been. Why would I ever throw that away?"
The possibility of an awful truth only just broke through to her.
"Unless, of course, you don't want this like I do."
"It's not that simple," he said flatly, letting out a hard breath as his features contorted in pain. She wished she knew what to do to take it away. "I don't want to be a burden to you."
"Love isn't a burden," she responded softly, but with complete surety.
He arched his head back against the pillow, his hand covering his eyes. When, after what seemed like years, he found her gaze, Anna's breath caught in her throat. The anguish that he was keeping bottled inside was all too plain to see, his eyes full and every inch of his face shadowed. Somewhere within this hard shell the John she knew was cowering like a lost child, but for this moment he was nowhere to be seen, engulfed by darkness.
Yet she loved him more than ever.
"It's not too late, Anna," he stumbled, clearly telling himself a lie and adding to his agony, as well as hers. "We didn't promise each other anything, and it's just as well."
She watched with morbidity as his hand drifted down across the sheets that covered the lower half of his body.
"You can find someone else. It's not too late," he repeated, not seeing the way that she shook her head fiercely against his words at the bedside.
His hand balled into a fist and he started to hit against his knee again and again, increasing his force with each impact.
"John, don't," she pleaded, getting out of her chair and reaching forward to try and stop him.
He continued, grimacing with frustration more than the pain he was unable to feel there.
The dams burst, unable to restrain the weight pounding against them. He broke.
"I'm useless, Anna," he shuddered. "Utterly useless."
Her arms circled him, his head cradled against her chest while he wept. She soothed her hands over his hair, her palms not big enough to cup his face fully even as she valiantly tried. She rocked him, kept him safe in her embrace.
"We will get through this together," she said, hushing him to comfort, never letting him go. "I would love you however, whatever, whenever."
The weak smile that he gave her would grow stronger with each day that passed.
The cracks healed over in time, allowing for flowers to bloom up between them. Anna accompanied John to every specialist appointment, holding his hand and feeling everything with him. They both sighed with relief at the very same moment when they were told that the several operations had been successful, his knee having been saved. The cane didn't seem like a badge of dishonour to him after all, not when he considered how bad it could have been.
They found a little house, John constantly reassuring her that it wasn't just about his ongoing rehabilitation that he wanted so deeply for them to live together. It was his heart that couldn't live without her, his very soul that needed to have her close by. It was in quite a state when they moved in, but they managed very happily working as a team to get it into shape, Anna seeing that John was glad of the occupation even if she kept a keen eye upon him as he worked. Some days were harder than others. Some nights he woke her with screams, his arms trembling where they held her to him. She never pushed him, only soothed him with loving words. He steadily opened up to her about his visions, his fears that he had left behind a part of himself forever in those sandy battlegrounds, shattered and crumbled with shards of rubble and the destructive remnants that would always linger.
She took his hands into hers, kissed them one by one. Twice, thrice, countless times. With each press of her lips to his skin she told him that he was whole. She told him that he was always hers, and that could never change.
It came as a surprise to them both on that apparently normal Monday morning, Anna still wiping the sleep from her eyes. At the time she thought she was still dreaming when he told her, and when she realised she was very much awake, she made him go through it more than once, having trouble letting it sink in.
A new role. Surveillance and intelligence; not in combat but still on the ground. Major Robert Crawley had deemed him invaluable, especially since he had saved his life on that fateful day. He'd need to have assessments of course, psychological as well as physical, to ensure that he was fit to serve.
There was a brightness back in his eyes, a kind that made Anna smile despite all of her reservations. She knew he loved the path he had chosen – not as much as I love you, he told her enough times so that she could never be in doubt. You've given me so much more worth than I could ever gather in all those years. – and it was for that reason that she simply wasn't able to refuse him.
"On one condition," she issued, her lips fitting into a curve while she draped her arms around his neck, the bulk of his strong muscles beneath her fingertips never failing to make her smile.
"I think I know what that condition may be," he replied with a crafty smile of his own. Anna could barely contain her joyful giggles when he brushed his lips along her fingers, settling a firm kiss upon the neat diamond ring that adorned the third one along.
He lowered himself to the floor upon his good knee, still holding her hand while she shook her head at him in amusement.
"Have you forgotten that you already asked me?" she quipped brightly. "Several months ago, as I recall."
"I'd do it every day, considering it was one of the greatest moments of my life." The light blush upon his cheeks made her heart flutter.
He rose his head with pride, meeting her eyes with a deep look.
"Anna May Smith, will you marry me?"
She couldn't even pretend to make him wait, though the vow was long sealed.
"You just name the date, Mr Bates," she answered with the greatest, most heartfelt grin imaginable.
By the end of that same week, they had become Mr and Mrs John Bates. Anna had never felt prouder as when she signed that register, just the two of them in the simple room. She couldn't stop looking at the ring glinting upon her finger, that was for as long as she could draw her eyes away from him. Still her friend, her lover, her greatest companion and soulmate.
Now, he was her husband too.
They spent such a short time as newlyweds, with not enough time to go on honeymoon. Three days, and she was waving him goodbye again, clutching the gold heart pendant he had given her on their wedding night and that she wore just as proudly ever since.
His words ringing in her ears long after the truck drove him away, out of her sight, almost with as much fervour as his kiss lingered upon her lips.
I'll be coming home to you.
The first months were the hardest. He was in territory riskier than before, and as much as he wanted to protect her by telling her as little as possible before he went she wasn't naive to be blind to the danger. Nobody could make contact while they got settled and for a little time after, just to be certain that all was clear. When she was finally given the green light to send letters again, she wrote so much that she wondered where it would all go. It was a feat not to mail one every day, and before she placed the reams of paper into their envelopes, she imprinted each page with a kiss. When she received each reply, her hands finding the loops of his handwriting as though they were his arms circling around her, she smiled to think that he did exactly the same thing, tracing her lips along his replies.
A kiss from hundreds of thousands of miles away, safely travelled and meaning just as much as if he were in the next room.
She read the same letter of his over and over, so much that she would have been able to recite it from memory and in her sleep, if it hadn't become increasingly broken. It had been months, and she had none more since.
She carried the pages about the house with her as though they were a charm, putting them into her bag when she left for work each day and removing them again at the moments when she was alone. When the night came she slipped them beneath her pillow and when sleeping proved impossible, as it was most nights now, she absorbed the words, going back to the beginning whenever she came to the end. A soundless lullaby. The paper was torn at its edges with wear, the ink coming back to life as her tears blotched down, making some parts illegible.
John, my love,
Four months have passed since I heard from you. It's fair to say that I have gone out of my mind, and am trying to find my way back again. Nothing makes sense without not knowing how you are, at the very least being assured that you are safe. Maybe it would be better if I could consider it, but I don't think of the worst. Someone would have told me by now if harm had come to you. That is the sole up side to this unbearable silence.
I love you more with each day that goes by, and I miss you more than that. What I wouldn't give to have your arms around me now, to hear your heart beating as I lie upon your chest. I'd walk through fire. I'd get locked in a room full of spiders. The bed is so cold without you. I know you always say my feet are like a block of ice, but I just can't warm up when you're not next to me. I think of you kissing me on every inch of my skin, and I don't know if it's making things better or worse.
I love you. I love you. There is no better way than to say it the same way my longing heart does every second of the day.
Please, please take care of yourself. I'll wait for a shooting star and send up a kiss straight for you.
Your ever-loving wife and always your
Anna xxxxx
Months of letters through the door in the space of two days, like a waterfall, an avalanche. She tore through them as quickly as she could, laughing with the deliriousness of lack of sleep and pure joy that cascaded through her body.
He was alive. He was safe. He hadn't given up.
He had been in just as much turmoil as her, followed by the swift and sweetest euphoria when her letters got through.
The tears that soaked into her pillow were happy ones, washing over their sorrowful descendents, hungry for more with every word that she read.
Anna, my dearest heart,
God forgive me for keeping you so weary and anxious. You know I'm not a religious man, but it's been the faith of your love that has kept me going for a good while now, and that has not changed. It's only got stronger, and I needed you with me. God, Anna, did I need you.
I won't keep you in the dark any longer about my enforced silence. I was taken captive by a gang. Not just me, three of us. We weren't clever enough to hide our tracks. I think maybe it's just as well that you weren't able to know.
I thought of you every second of every day, my darling. Imagined you talking me through the darkness and uncertainty, seeing your sweet smile when I closed my eyes. Feeling your kiss upon my lips in the dead of night.
I think of whether, if it would have come down to it, I would have been able to give up my life. But in the next second I realise that my life is you, and so there was no choice but to fight with all I had.
Be certain that I am safe now. We've relocated to another side of the country. I would have complained about how long it took to get there, but now I know that I'd be willing to be sent to the moon so long as it meant I'd be coming back to you. Home.
I'll be there sooner than you think. Hang on, my love.
I love you. Even writing those words are giving me strength.
With all of my love and heart, your
John xxxxx
No sooner did he set foot through the door, some six months later, than her lips found his, currents running through a sea, seeking each other out without a single failure.
They took breath from one another, hands just as eager to touch, to be sure that life was no longer an illusion.
"Hostage," Anna mumbled, her mouth unwilling to leave his for too long, her hands running the column of his chest, "You had me worried sick. Even afterwards."
"I'm here now," he said, voice wonderfully gruff against her and around her. She moaned as he captured her lips passionately again, the intensity building every second rather than subsiding. "Safe in your arms."
She squealed as he hoisted her up, hooking her legs into place around him. Her laughter was infectious, her arms clasped around his neck. A soft and sweet kiss brought them back to the moment they wanted to last forever, and neither was willing to wait any longer for what had been denied for far too long.
Anna remembered every movement of him within her, breathing in his musk as she nestled desperate kisses into his neck, his fingers raking down his back and bringing him closer while his were so tender upon her that she would have cried if she hadn't been so ecstatic to have him again, all hers, always hers. They were able to reach that perfect point together, victory won with a lingering kiss that told of pure bliss, more glorious than it had ever been.
They were gifted with more than just the wonderful memories of that night settling firm within their bones. She'd never forget the look on his face, shock followed by realisation, followed by the biggest and most beautiful smile she had ever bore witness to when she told him, in the quiet of their sitting room, the positive test still calmly sitting on the side of the bath a floor above. She was just relieved that he was at home with her to receive the news that would change their life like nothing else they had known so far. It would have killed her a bit if he had been away, and she'd had to announce that he was to be a father over some unreliable phone line, or even been given the word by someone else.
He fussed terribly over her in the months when her body changed and grew bigger, and she watched the clock every day, keeping in mind another countdown that thankfully never came.
Their baby boy arrived safe and sound when he was meant to, in their bedroom of all places, her labour progressing too fast for anything else to be done. They cradled him together, the two of them suddenly three. John doted upon their son, feeding and changing him without bother, lulling him to sleep when Anna was exhausted and often when she was just fine too. Those were her favourite times, her singing softly to their little wonder while John rocked him in his strong arms. Later on she'd find them about her, wandering with purpose, whispering that they'd better get to work on making their baby girl. Anna giggled while his lips moved a path down her body, trying not to take him so seriously when he spoke the words to her in a lost moment.
"Just in case I get called away."
It never got easier, especially not when he had two hearts to leave behind.
She understood that he was owed to return the favour, covering for someone else as they had done for him. Eight months spent with their son was much more than other people were afforded. Still, she would have traded everything to have him with them for good.
Luxuries were unheard of, but she managed to sneak one of the baby's blankets into his pack.
"And this," she said, unclasping the pendant from where it sat round her neck.
"Anna," he looked at her with soft, imploring eyes, "You can't."
"I can and I will," she exclaimed, somehow being successful in not crying. She would save the tears for when he walked from the door. She pushed the chain into his hand, closing his fingers around it, leaving him unable to refuse. "A little piece of both of us. Wherever you go, we'll always be there."
"You always are." He threw his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. She savoured every second he remained. "Give him a kiss for me when he wakes up."
She nodded her head gently. "If you give me a kiss before you go."
He smiled, and then granted her the wish.
There were to be plenty of wishes to come, and too many that would go unfulfilled.
She did well, really, keeping the smile on her face and even managing to laugh politely when the moment called for it. People wanted to talk to her, which was nice. Some commented that they hadn't seen her for so long, and it was good to find her looking well. She couldn't criticise them for their little white lies; how many had she told in the last few hours, never mind days and weeks? Her dress hung a little from her shoulders, and she shook her head when Gwen passed a plate into her hands, telling her that Beryl had simply insisted she have another chunk of cherry pie.
Tonight she did a little more than just cope, and she was grateful for that. To know that so many people cared, and she wasn't set adrift after all. Yet there were moments when it all got too much, and keeping it inside wouldn't suffice. She heard laughter from the other side of the room and thought of a joke he'd whisper for only her to hear. She saw hands reaching out and felt his fingers brushing against her waist.
Throwing the rest of the pie away, she took a breath as she stood by the kitchen counter, lights dancing away in the distance, becoming blurred the longer she looked upon them.
"It's not absolutely horrendous, is it?"
Anna gathered herself, chasing back the wave of tears swiftly before she faced Mary.
"Having a birthday party two months after your actual birthday? I could think of more awkward situations."
She smiled properly, seeing Mary visibly relax. She had known for a while that her friend had wanted to do something, those endless calls and messages hardly well disguised, and just the other week had finally relented. Surprisingly, Mary had kept things low-key, bringing the celebrations home and not going overboard at all. A few silver balloons were dotted around, along with some subtle decoration hanging from the doorways.
"I'm sure it'd never do for you," Anna quipped, trying to take the glasses from Mary's hands and raising her eyebrows when she refused, going to the sink to wash them herself. "Wouldn't they banish you until the next season? Or whatever it is."
Mary smirked as she ran each glass under the tap, one by one. "There's nothing wrong with being fashionably late every now and then."
Anna smiled back, chewing on her lip in contemplation where she sat. She knew Mary hadn't meant to say anything to set her off. It was her own fault for being so sensitive, nothing failed to affect her nowadays.
"Have you heard anything recently?" Mary began, the clink of glass sounding several times too loud.
She looked wistfully into her lap. "He called the other night. Not for as long as I would have liked, but you know how it is."
The sigh escaped her before she could stop it, the sound too familiar now. She drove herself mad with it.
"I just didn't expect it to be this long," she said, stopping her voice from shaking too much. "Nearly two and a half years. I know it's not his fault, he's got a job to do and I came to terms with that a long time ago. Or at least I thought I had."
Her hands were knotted tight together, the dull shine of the much loved and worried-over ring peeking through into the light.
"I miss him so much," she admitted the plain truth, hardly a surprise to anyone who could see her. "I think the worst has come and gone, but then something else hits me. And it's unbearable. I didn't think my heart could hurt so badly, not until now."
Mary nodded sympathetically, staying silent, letting her go on. A terrible guilt struck Anna in an instant, and she wished she would have been stopped sooner.
"I'm so sorry, Mary," she said sincerely. "I've no right to complain, not with Matthew..."
She couldn't say the word. It had been her greatest fear – it still was – and voicing it was something impossible to do, especially for the pain it would cause to her friend. Suffering lessened for staying lonely.
"It's alright, honestly," came Mary's gracious reply – too gracious, Anna thought. Her dark eyes smiled, and they were an unexpected comfort. "He was good enough to leave me something before he went. He was always practical like that."
Anna smiled, hearing the laughter that came from the adjoining room.
"Theo's been in his element having George around," she said, more cheer in her tone. "That's another thing I need to thank you for."
"Nonsense," Mary waved her hand. "It's just as good for George too."
They shared the same smile, and it seemed funny how though they were so different that their lives had taken such similar turns. Both army wives – a daughter too, in Mary's case – and both having sons within a couple of months of each other. The future generation, someone had said at the time. Anna wanted the world for her boy, but she would do everything to steer him away from that world. It'd be hard, given how much he idolised his father. He knew him more through the pictures she'd kept so dear than he had had in real time and it was another fact that broke her heart day by day.
"Thank god for them," Anna exclaimed. "We are lucky. If I didn't have Theo, I don't know what I'd do. I honestly don't."
Once again, it threatened to overwhelm her, and she grieved that she couldn't seem to take simple joy from the presence of her son - their son – without the ever-present shadow of her husband's absence.
"Now, come on," Mary's hand was light on her shoulder. "No tears. Not while we still have wine to open."
Anna shook her head, a strange burst of laughter mixed with a sob leaving her.
"Mummy! Where are you, Mummy?" Theo's little voice rang out, piercing her heart.
"I'm in the kitchen with Auntie Mary, sweetheart. I won't be long."
"I'll finish up in here," Mary nudged against her shoulder. "And before you ask, I'm sure. Just tell me where you keep the washing-up gloves. I don't want to dry my hands out."
Anna laughed, pointing the cupboard out and smiling her thanks. She couldn't even get into the sitting room before a pair of small arms were hugging her legs, burnt-hazel eyes looking up at her eagerly.
"Come and dance with me, Mummy," Theo grinned, holding himself in a little pose, and it melted her completely.
"Okay," she said, wearing her best and most honest smile, letting his tiny hand pull her along. "A jive or two, and then it'll be your bedtime." Even the mention of that hadn't taken the excitement away from his face. "But I have been looking forward to this all evening. You tell me what to do, twinkle toes."
She smiled as she followed the steps he took, going a bit slower than his boundless energy allowed. His giggles rung out when she lifted him up, still able to do so though he was getting bigger every day, and they were both happy twirling around, oblivious to the eyes that looked fondly on. He was made of such light, the brightest that could be ever conceived of, and always lifted her spirits to the highest degree. Whatever they were, that was something that could never be denied.
After a song or two, Anna slumped into the high-back chair in the corner of the room, worn at the rests where she laid her arms. Theo didn't complain about the dancing coming to an end, wriggling happily in his mother's lap.
From the fireplace John's picture looked out from its gilded frame, watching them in some manner at least.
The music continued to play, drowning out the chatter that was going on around and almost disguising the sound of the doorbell.
"I'll get it," Mary's voice echoed from the kitchen to the hallway as she travelled through. Anna nodded to nobody in particular, holding her arm around Theo. It wasn't that late, she supposed, but the party had started early and most people would be leaving soon anyway, or at least she thought that was the plan.
Mary appeared at the door, looking quite flustered.
"Anna, you should come into the hall."
By default, a pulse of pure fear flowed through her body. Her legs went rigid, her breath fading from her lungs. She couldn't seem to read Mary's eyes for clues, but perhaps it was just because she had got too adept at fooling herself by now.
Before she could think straight, Theo had scrambled from her lap and was running, faster than she'd ever seen when he'd play football in the park or back into her arms from the nursery gates.
"Theo, sweetie," she called out, though it was barely enough to stop him.
Instead she got up to follow, overcoming the paralysing sensation and praying that better powers were at hand to await them both.
She wouldn't be able to take it otherwise. And with everyone to watch her...not that it would make one bit of difference if the worst was true.
"Daddy," Theo's voice rose higher still. "Daddy!"
Her eyes shut tight of her own accord, maybe as a form of defence. She pinched against her arm, to be certain that she hadn't slipped into a dream, but she wasn't sure if that could prove anything.
And then, if her heart hadn't stopped before...
...She heard him, loud and clear.
"Hey there, little man. Look at you, you're nearly as tall as me."
She laughed against her hand, a myriad of emotions whirling within her. John sounded wrought, his voice a little more weary. She pictured him, his eyes marvelling at Theo like the day he was born, and when she heard the almost imperceptible catch in his breath, the lump gathered fast in her throat.
She crept forward slowly, heart bursting bit-by-bit to observe father and son. John held Theo in his arms just as comfortably as when he had been a bundle, adapting so quickly. The years had almost faded away in that one instant, the ache that still remained wrapped round her testament to their true passing.
"And what have you been up to?" he said, the gruffness fading as he jostled his son upwards, causing the boy to giggle. "I want to hear everything."
"Looking after Mummy," Theo replied proudly, puffing himself up. "Making her smile. Dancing!"
"Good lad," John answered, placing a kiss against his son's cheek.
His eyes looked past, and they brimmed with tears the moment they saw her.
Hers did the very same.
Seconds, minutes, days, months, years. They all led up to this moment, so unexpected, and it was only breath that separated them. No longer miles and nights full of uncertainty, just as much as they were full of hope.
She muffled his name against his chest, his arms embracing her while they still held their son between them.
The amount of times she had dreamed of this very moment, and in all her dreams it had never proved so sweet.
Tears flowed as well as laughter; Anna couldn't stop smiling, and neither could she tear her eyes away from her husband, looking as handsome as ever and a touch more rugged. He was in his khakis and black t-shirt, he smelled of the long road journey and dust and an undertone of sweat. Her hands snaked over him, her smile growing the longer they stayed, roaming from one place to another.
"You look beautiful," he uttered, taking both of her hands into his. By their side, Theo was standing, smiling too. "A sight for sore eyes, and a homesick heart."
"Silly beggar," Anna shook her head, still so utterly surprised. This is what happiness really felt like; she'd lived in such a fog for so long that she had forgotten quite completely. "You didn't say anything. I don't know how..."
Even with her euphoria, she couldn't help the weight of worry and confusion breaking through. John's features crumpled, and he cupped his hand tenderly against her cheek, making her gasp from the consideration of just how much she had missed and longed for his touch.
"I didn't know, not for sure," he said quietly. "I didn't want to break another promise to you. It happened very fast, and it was a choice between making a call and boarding the plane to get back sooner."
Her smile started up again, shining into her eyes. "Well, I think you made the right decision."
He nodded, rubbing his thumb over her cheek while her arms wrapped around him.
"I'm so happy," she said, her heart settling back into a rhythm that was almost normal. "So very happy."
"I am too, my darling. I almost wouldn't let myself believe it until I was back with you."
His smile grew larger, his gaze warm and fixed upon her. Anna sighed contentedly as his hand slid down to her waist, his mouth drawing closer to her ear, his breath against her making her shiver.
"It was my last mission," he whispered. "I said straight, no more, and they didn't complain."
She almost couldn't believe what she was hearing, looking up at him to be sure.
His arms held her tighter, telling her without words the truth of the matter.
"I can't be apart from you and Theo anymore," he affirmed. "Not for one second. I'm home, for good."
Anna's eyes filled, a small whimper escaping her. Her greatest wish granted, as simply as that.
There was a little tug upon the hem of her dress.
"Don't cry, Mummy," Theo told her, bouncing on his feet. "Daddy is back now."
She smiled as she sniffed back her tears, crouching to kiss their little boy upon his forehead and bringing him back into their embrace with her hand circled about him.
"I won't, sweetie. Not now that Daddy's home."
Her eyes flitted from the face of her son to her husband, mirror images only parted by years. The love she had for both was incredible.
"Truly?" she said in a whisper, small and slightly shaking.
John smiled with the whole of his heart, his hand upon her face once more.
"Truly," he responded, his touch alone enough to make her believe.
Her hand fell upon his arm, unable to stop touching him now that she had him with her again. She caressed him gently, and he brought her lips to his, making them meet in a sweet kiss that promised more.
They had their whole lives to savour them.
Theo's giggling filled the air, and they both turned happily to their little boy, hardly able to keep from laughing themselves.
"And what do you find so funny, little man?" John questioned him, softly.
Theo turned a little shy, looking up at Anna and reaching to her arm so he could hold out her hand.
"Now you dance with Mummy," he exclaimed eagerly.
John and Anna gazed at one another, a thousand lost smiles returning and lighting up their eyes.
"I have been waiting," she uttered, tilting her head to follow the spark in his irises more keenly.
She felt her heart warm her whole body from head to toe when he slid his hand into hers, his other finding the curve of her waist again.
"Well, we can't have that."
Love had brought them together, and she always believed that it would bring him back to her in the end.
She had been right, and now there was no end to think of.
Only love.
And so her days began again.
It was just that now, they were their days, once more.