This was a prompt given to me by tammyteresa64 and I absolutely had to fulfill it because I was re-reading this story (Peata Beag A Dhaidí) the other day thinking about how much I missed Madeleine! It's pretty much required that you read PBAD first but I suppose you could decide to be adventurous and try to muddle through this without having done so.

Enjoy!

With her head propped up against the glass of the train window, Sybil watched as all of England passed her by. She took it in snapshots; she'd worked a double shift at the hospital and every so often the hum of the train engine would lull her to the sleep she'd missed out on the night before. She was looking forward to visiting with her family but she knew that such a task was difficult even when properly rested. Now between the war and Madeleine's impending pregnancy, Sybil found herself reaching levels far beyond exhaustion. All she could manage most nights when she returned home was a smile to Tom and the kids before she inevitably collapsed into bed.

Tom was too good to her, shown now by the sympathetic smile he shared with Sybil as he sat down.

"Hi," she whispered out.

"Hi, love," he laughed. He reached out for her hand and held it in his lap. "Are you okay?"

Sybil picked her head up off the window and looked to her husband. She couldn't help but to smile again; his kindness was forever overwhelming especially when she felt that maybe she wasn't too deserving of it. "M'fine, thank you."

Tom played with Sybil's wedding ring, running his finger over the gold and the small diamond that rested upon it. "Do you want me to go? We have over an hour before we get into the station. You could probably get a good kip in."

"M'fine, darling, really...but thank you," she followed.

Tom nodded. "Can I get you—"

"Tom, darling, it's fine alright? I'm...I'm sorry I'm just so tired. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone but—"

"You're not going to want to hear this but you need to slow down, Sybil. I'm sorry, but this is more than just a lost night of sleep. It's stress and you're not eating because you're stressed and I'm sure you're dehydrated too and—"

"Tom Branson, you'd think you were a doctor."

"No, love," he smirked, "I'm just married to one." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and when he attempted to pull away, Sybil kept a tight grip on his arm, using it as leverage to lay herself down on the bench they sat upon.

"Wake me up when we get in?"

Tom looked down to his wife and smoothed back at her hairline. "Of course."

~!~

When the family pulled up to Downton it was not the typical arrangement that greeted them. In fact, in addition to the lack of staff, Robert was missing completely, leaving only Cora, Carson, and Mrs. Hughes to welcome them. As the estate came into focus, Sybil gave Tom's hand a squeeze. The nap she took was a small help to what she could only imagine would be a rather rough weekend. It was only when they departed the cab of the taxi that Tom discovered why. Aiden and Aine wasted no time hugging their grandmother, with Aine even extending hugs to an uncomfortable Carson and an amused Mrs. Hughes. As Jacob helped Madeleine down from the vehicle, Cora's smile fell. She merely stared, wide eyed at her granddaughter, her lips pursed to keep her tears at bay.

"Hi Gran," Madeleine said. "This is Jacob…" Her voice trailed off and she looked back to her mother. Typically she'd be asking for guidance but here there was anger and even a bit of sorrow. She gritted her teeth to force a smile while Cora and Jacob shook hands. Madeleine didn't remember there being a pause in their introduction but their must have been because it was seamless for her to push him inside, especially with the way her grandmother was glaring at her.

"A Dhia..." Tom whispered as he and Sybil stepped forward. Though they were family there was still a certain level of decorum expected during each visit. "You didn't tell them, did you?"

Sybil forced a smile of her own. "Not quite."

~!~

Cora promised the family tea and then politely excused herself to make a phonecall, undoubtedly to her husband. Once the warm beverage was put down before them in the library, Tom nodded toward Carson extending him an awkward show of gratitude. Mrs. Hughes was waiting for the butler and when Carson returned, both exited and shut the large wooden door behind them.

"Mum!" Madeleine whined. "How could you do this?"

"Or rather, how could you not do this?" Tom added.

Sybil shot her husband a glance in warning. It was likely some of the exhaustion she was feeling was related to the secret she harbored. But she knew she was wrong and in that truth she hoped Tom would be on her side.

"Mum!" Madeleine tried again, "What did you think would happen? Gran and Pa are hardly the people anyone would want to surprise. I mean...did you even tell them about Jacob? Do they know I'm married or do they just assume I'm pregnant out of wedlock?"

"Madeleine, have a seat, would you? I'm sure they'd draw the conclusion that the man you arrived with is in fact your husband. I think it's unfair to think they'd immediately assume the worst."

"You mean the truth?" the eldest Branson daughter threw back.

"Mads, stop…" Jacob warned.

Like Tom had on the train with his own wife, Jacob held Madeleine's hand in his lap. The diamond she wore on her finger was actually larger than her mother's and Tom found himself constantly staring at it deciding whether he was embarrassed or comforted by that fact. His eldest daughter was married and to a man that could provide to her more than he ever could. They'd have a child of their own soon and that child would attend schools Tom and Sybil couldn't afford to send their own children to. Tom had taken Sybil away from this world, only to bring her back and make her constantly apologize for the new life she'd created with him in Ireland.

"So what, Ma? You don't tell them and Gran has this horrified look on her face and clearly judges me and you," she emphasized, "or you tell them and they rescind their invitation?"

"Your grandmother would never turn you away, Madeleine," Sybil sighed. "I'm sorry, alright? You're completely correct. I should have told her and it was not fair to you that I didn't. Or rather, that I did not at least tell you that I didn't."

"You think?" Madeleine yelled.

"Mads, keep your voice down," Tom admonished. "And stop yelling at your mother."

"Well maybe you could yell at her then! She's never on our side when we're here—"

Sybil leaned off the sofa and into the space Madeleine occupied with Jacob. "Excuse me? I am always on your side, Madeleine. I am on your side just as much as anyone's. I have stood up for myself in this home for far longer than you can imagine and how dare you accuse me of otherwise!"

"Ma—"

"No!" Sybil shouted, her body now moving toward the door without apology. "I am not walking away from this, I just need a moment, alright?"

Tom looked to Sybil and then back to his daughter. "Well am I wrong?" Madeleine asked.

He shook his head. "No, darling, not wrong. This is...this is bigger than this visit. Your mother will come around when she does, she'll apologize. I just...I think she's really tired what with the war and your pregnancy and—"

"I haven't asked her to provide for a single thing since I moved into my flat…"

"That doesn't mean a mother does not worry, Mads. You'll know soon. She...she can't help it. She worries about all of you more than you'll ever know." He looked to the prominent bump his daughter wore. "Or, again, maybe you will know. In fact, maybe you'll know very soon."

Like Sybil, Tom left without apology. He didn't look to Carson, nor did he ask a passing maid which way his wife had gone. Silently, he headed for the steps and up to Sybil's old bedroom.

~!~

The fire was already on and the curtains drawn, meant to welcome Sybil back to Downton. In all of her strife she didn't think to appreciate the sentiment behind each small gesture and instead made quick work of unpacking the small suitcase she and Tom had brought along. She'd practically tossed her things into a drawer and then spent the rest of the time smoothing out the cotton of Tom's shirts before hanging each one in the nearby armoire. This is how Tom found his wife, her body still but her mind running fast.

"Are we going to talk about this?" he asked.

Any semblance of pretense was left down in the library. Here, behind a locked door, Tom was able to approach Sybil as he always had. Sometimes the way they challenged one another was playful, meant to strengthen their relationship. Other times it was to ask for a correction, demanding that the other be better — more patient, more brave, more present.

"What do you want me to say, Tom? I should have told my parents. I didn't. I know it was wrong and I know it was unfair of me to bring you all here thinking I had. I'm not…" She breathed out a heavy exhale. "I'm not ashamed of Madeleine. She's really stepped up and her and Jacob are actually very sweet together and I'm so grateful all of this has worked out."

Tom leaned into his wife. "But?"

"But I'm sick of coming into this house on the defensive. I'm sick of having to apologize for my life! I like my life!"

"Yeah, I like our life too…"

Sybil sighed and went to him. Together the two sat on the edge of the bed, adults by all standard definitions, but feeling very much like children thinking up excuses to explain their mischief.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out. "Our life...of course." Sybil dropped her head down to her husband's shoulder. There was something quite innocent about the action and it reminded her of all the nights she spent sitting with Tom in the Renault, agonizing over how she'd reveal their relationship to her family.

"I'm...I'm sorry you feel like you have to apologize for your life."

Sybil looked to him. "Tom, no, darling…" She said, a palm now placed to his cheek. "I'm...I'm sorry. It's...it's them, darling. It's not you. It's not us," she stressed.

"It is though, Syb. You were perfect before I came along—"

Sybil smirked. "I was hardly perfect. I wore trousers and was the talk of the town until the war broke out."

Tom chuckled. "But you were so innocent. And I know I asked a lot of you when I proposed. I'm—"

"Tom Branson, don't even finish that sentence, you hear me? You didn't ask me anything I hadn't already thought of. The life I left behind was a life I didn't want anymore. This," she gestured to the room they were in, "was never my life anyway. My life began the day I met you. That's when it all started to matter. If my parents still can't see that then that is their problem, not mine."

Tom nodded and lifted Sybil's hand so he could kiss her knuckles. He sighed out before resolving and turning back to her. "We still should probably go help Mads out. It's hardly fair to feed her to the wolves. We made those decisions...she and the rest of them had no choice."

"The rest of them? Your children? The twins?" Sybil asked with a giggle.

Tom nudged at Sybil with his shoulder causing her to sway away from him then back. "Hey, I'm tired too, alright?"

~!~

Sybil and Tom did not have an opportunity to speak with Madeleine before dinner. The eldest Branson girl had retreated to her room for a nap, leaving Jacob alone in the library. This was where Sybil and Tom found him, both already dressed for dinner.

"Jacob…" Sybil began as she approached him. The boy took the older couple in and already knew what it was they were about to reveal. "You have to change. It's—"

"Dinner," he nodded in acceptance.

"I hope Madeleine—"

"She did," Jacob said flatly. "Brought a suit and everything…Christ," he muttered, provoking laughter from Tom.

Before he could walk away completely, Sybil called him back. "Can you...I'm not saying it's your duty but can you just make sure Madeleine is fine to come down? It's probably best if she's not crying at the table. It'll send my father into a fit."

Jacob smiled. "Sure Mrs. Branson." He turned back to the door but stopped once more. "It is my duty…"

Sybil had already turned to Tom and was forced out of her quiet conversation to look back to Jacob. "Hmm?"

"It is my duty. She's my wife and I'd do it whether you asked me to or not."

Sybil smiled, nearly wanting to cry. "Of course you would."

~!~

Jacob padded up the stairs. Whatever it was that was wearing Sybil and Tom down seemed to be affecting him too. Travel had never been kind to his body but he felt it even more so now that he was surrounded by so many expensive things. He wished it were appropriate for him to sleep now too but as Sybil and Tom had reminded him, there'd be little time for rest this weekend. If Madeleine wasn't pregnant, she'd be held to the same standards.

At the top of the stairs the redheaded boy paused. He looked around and saw nothing but white doors, all of them closed and existing without any demarcation of any kind. He took a step to the left and then to the right again, unsure of which direction led him to Madeleine.

"Down there," he heard. "Fifth door on the left."

Jacob spun around, hoping to meet the source of the voice. Before him stood a footman. "Oh, uh...thanks."

"Thomas," he offered, extending his hand.

Jacob and he shared a handshake. "Jacob. I, uh...I'm...Madeleine's my wife," he explained.

Thomas kept his hands behind his back, causing his shoulders to be pulled back with pride. "I'm aware. I just directed you toward her room, remember?"

Jacob swallowed. "Yeah," he breathed out with a nervous laugh. "Of course...sorry." He paused before leaving completely. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." Jacob was already halfway down the hallway before Thomas called out again. "I am the least of your worries in this house. Take a deep breath. You've got a long weekend ahead of you…" He watched him go the rest of the way and once Jacob reached Madeleine's room, Thomas turned on his heel and disappeared.

Rather quietly Jacob opened the door and stepped inside. He shut it just as silently and when he was protected from the world outside he let out a steady breath and began to take in the room before him. The bed had four posts and on the mattress laid elaborate silk pillows adorned with gold-colored thread and tassels that matched the carpet near the hearth. Madeleine sat on the bed, her arm stretched behind her head in a position that could only be described as uncomfortable. Jacob immediately went to her, stilling her hands so he could perform the task.

"There," he said, finishing the buttons at the back of her dress.

Madeleine smiled and turned to him. "Do I look alright?"

"You look beautiful, love," Jacob breathed out.

Madeleine shrugged and then stood up to begin brushing her hair. "I'm as big as this room," she joked, knowing such a joke would only play off in her grandparent's home.

"You look wonderful. Far better than I will. I'm sure my suit is wrinkled and—"

"One of the footmen came in to take care of it."

"They came in? Here?" he asked, pointing down. "While you were sleeping?"

"I was just resting my eyes," Madeleine explained. "But yes, they did. It's really quite normal. You forget they're there after awhile."

"They're people, Madeleine. I hardly think it's easy to forget they exist. I mean...will they just be barging in whenever they please?"

"Not if we request for them not to. Why? Are you worried they'll see us in bed together? We are married, you know," she went to him and toyed with the collar of his shirt to keep him close.

Jacob's eyes hadn't moved from the door. "Yeah, let's...can we request that they not come in here?"

Madeleine dropped her head back to laugh and detached from her husband to return to the nearby vanity. "They only come in to open the shades."

Jacob was at the armoire now, using the mirror on the inside to fix his own buttons as he got undressed. "They don't have clocks here?"

"I imagine they do. They just don't need them."

Jacob was still gobsmacked. "How are you so calm?"

"Because I've been here before?" she suggested. "I know it seems odd, but as my father has explained it to us, if we have to be here anyway we might as well enjoy it. He used to really fight it. I don't remember when we lived here but—"

"You lived here?"

Madeleine's mouth puckered. "Yes, until I was about six."

Jacob looked to her. "How didn't I know this?"

"Because we're still learning things about one another," she explained simply. "It's also not a defining fact. My dad had some issues in Ireland and we had to stay here until the proclamation was passed."

"Was it odd?"

"This was all I knew," Madeleine explained, shrugging. "It was more bizarre going back to Dublin, to be honest."

Jacob was nearly dressed now and he went to the bed to put his shoes on. "Wow. I...I never knew."

"I've never really told my mother or father that...especially my father. Ireland is my home but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't something magical about this place. Mum was more relaxed here. Honestly, Dad was too...though, of course he'd never admit that. There's help here and I had room to run around and they weren't always wondering if the bills would be paid or if Dad would have a job."

"He worked here?"

Madeleine giggled. "Of course he did! Can you honestly imagine my father not working?"

"No, I suppose not…"

"What did he do then?"

"I don't know really...something with the farmers in town. I think he helped my grandfather talk to them."

"What? Language barrier?" Jacob joked.

"Yeah. My grandfather doesn't know how to speak to people below him."

Jacob looked ahead and rolled his eyes. "Grand…"

Again Madeleine was laughing. "He's different with family though. And he treats the staff well...like family, really. I'm sure he'll like you. He'll surely like you more than my father."

"He doesn't like your dad?"

"Hardly. Though we all pretend as if we don't know...but they're both shite at hiding it."

Jacob was dressed now but before he pushed off the bed, he grabbed Madeleine by the back of the neck and brought her close to him so he could press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Watch that mouth while we're here, would ya?"

"Oh, no worry there. Mum and Dad have taught me how to play the game. Just follow my lead, alright?"

~!~

There was little time before the family was called for dinner. Madeleine and Jacob had lost track of time upstairs and though one of the housemaids had not entered, they knocked quite loudly, pulling the two out of the strong embrace they held propped up against the same door. When they arrived downstairs Madeleine's hair was frizzed and Jacob's lips were swollen. Tom looked somewhat annoyed, though not because he feared the judgement they'd receive. He still wasn't used to Madeleine's marriage and the closer her due date became, the less apt he was at hiding it.

"Pa!" Madeleine called out, hoping to make quick work of all of this.

"Madeleine, you look…" He held on to his granddaughter's arms as he looked her up and down. "Radiant, darling."

"Well, there's really no need to lie," she brushed off with a slight laugh. She spoke quickly and her accent became all the more apparent to Jacob the longer they stood under Mr. Crawley's stare. "This is Jacob," she explained. Her grandmother stood off to the side. "My husband," she added, now looking to Cora as if to direct the title in her direction. In their earlier introduction, she'd left the description out, thinking such a thing was explained to her or if it were not, that her grandmother could draw a logical conclusion.

"Hello…" Robert let out as he shook the boy's hand.

"Hi sir...uh, thank you for the invitation. We...we appreciate it. Your house is really lovely and—"

"It does the job," Robert jested.

There was no room for other jokes and both Madeleine and Jacob were happy at that fact, especially as they continued to nervously accept the glares given to them by a nearby Robert and Cora. Under that same scrutiny, Madeleine grabbed for Jacob's hand and held it until they reached the dining room. Back in Dublin the action was so familiar that neither thought anything of it. Here it was almost scandalous and this was made obvious when Jacob moved to pull out Madeleine's chair and was bumped by a footman prepared to perform that same task.

"I'm gonna muck this up," Jacob whispered as he leaned into Madeleine.

She was sharing smiles with everyone around the table, but through her forced grin, she spoke. "Just let me do the talking."

"What if they address me directly?"

"Then—"

"Jacob," Robert called out.

The table was so large and the room so expansive, Jacob wondered if he'd have to shout for the man to hear his response. "Yes, sir?"

"When did you and Madeleine meet?"

"In university."

"Do you live near my daughter then?"

"No...well, now I do."

"You moved there after the wedding?" Robert inquired.

Through his anxiety, Jacob's eyes caught upon Tom's. The older gentleman gave the boy a sympathetic smile, almost as if to explain that for as polite as his father-in-law could be, he made no qualms about hiding his intentions when he wished to uncover secrets. "Well, I've lived there since I started school."

"On campus?"

Jacob shook his head. "No," he lied.

"So you come from money?"

"Papa…" Sybil reprimanded. "That's hardly an appropriate question…"

"It's fine...uh, not really. I just...I had a flat. I don't know," he shrugged. With the way Mr. and Mrs. Crawley were gawking at him he began to wonder if he was speaking English, or really, if he were speaking at all.

"Madeleine are you still in school then?"

"Uh, no, Pa...I'm not."

"So the child was not planned?"

"Robert…" Tom tried. It had taken both men many years to get to this point. Even so, Tom gave no apology for the way in which his voice harshly demanded that his father-in-law let the issue go.

Madeleine, ever her mother's child, forced a sweet smile. "Actually, Pa, the child was carefully planned. Jacob felt pressured to enlist but he wanted to finish school and I wanted that for him too so I got pregnant and the pressure died down. He continued to go to school and it all worked out."

"That's hardly cause to bring a child into this world…"

Sybil looked to her father. Like Aiden and Aine, her eyes ping-ponged between the pair, satisfied at Madeleine's ability to stand up for herself. There was still a large part of the Branson girl that felt claim to this home and her stubborn nature did nothing but encourage this behavior.

"Well it was my choice."

After setting her crystal flute down, Cora leaned in. "You chose to give up your own education?"

"I did," Madeleine declared proudly. "With the war, I'd be pressured into taking up a job in the factory instead. Many of our professors have enlisted or even moved to America. There's not much left of UCD—"

"But Jacob still attends?" Cora clarified.

Sybil instantly looked to Tom. Her eyes begged that he help but found the same sentiment she carried on her own shoulders: helplessness, like a child thrashing silently in a cold body of water. All Tom could do was reach for his wife's knee under the table, giving her skin a soft squeeze through the fabric of her evening gown.

"Why does it matter? Why does any of it matter? I'm married and I'm having a child. That's it."

"It matters because you're a bright girl, Madeleine," Cora explained. "It hardly seems fair—"

"There's a war going on, Gran. Did you know? I'm sure there's not much of an impact at Downton but—"

"Madeleine, enough!" Sybil implored. "Apologize to your grandmother so we can move on to a more amenable topic."

"My marriage and my child are more than amenable, mother. It's my grandparents accusing me of things I am not guilty of that I don't appreciate."

"There's no accusation, Madeleine. We're just curious. This has all happened so fast...and we had no idea," Robert revealed slyly, all with a look at his daughter and her husband. The aforementioned couple averted their eyes.

"Welp!" Sybil gave. She nearly tossed her napkin onto the plate in front of her. "Would you two have liked an invitation to the wedding? I didn't think you attended those. You know, Irish weddings…" she explained.

Tom looked to his wife, his eyes widening. Though there was a bit of pride in what she'd said, he was more worried about the repercussions they'd face because of it. Meanwhile, all of the Branson children looked to one another, avoiding long term eye contact out of fear of revealing what their mother was merely hinting at.

"Would you have come then? To the wedding, I mean…" Sybil inquired. Tom wondered if his wife were referring to Madeleine's marriage or her own.

"Well, we…"

"There's no sense in concerning yourself with things you are not invested in. Madeleine is a woman. I was only a year older when I married Tom. I had Madeleine only a year later—"

"Yes, Sybil, maybe that's the problem."

Sybil paused and looked to her father. "What did you say?"

"There's no need to rush all of this, Sybil…"

"Rush it? If I hadn't been so resistant you would have married me off to Larry Grey two years before! And it was hardly rushed! Tom had worked here for many years before we were married."

Jacob's eyes widened. This was another secret Madeleine had not shared with him, and unlike the years she spent at Downton, he found it to carry far more weight. He blinked as it all processed. Mrs. Branson had married a man that worked for her father.

"If the girl wanted to get married then that is her right! If she wanted to have a baby, that is also her right."

"Maybe you're giving the girl too many rights," Robert explained. "Maybe you're being too liberal with her."

"Oh, sod off!"

"Sybil!" Cora bellowed.

"I will not come here and allow you to criticize my children, Papa! I can take it and Tom can take it and we've actually become quite accustomed to dealing with your antics but I will not subject my children to your immature behavior. Why don't you ask Aiden and Aine about their schooling? I was blessed with four, beautiful and bright children and their studies and the things they excel at are far more important than who Madeleine has decided to marry or when she has chosen to have children. If you have issues with any of this, direct it at Tom and me." Robert said nothing. "Is that clear?"

Her father looked away. He didn't even bother to glance to his daughter, or her husband, before letting his eyes rest upon his youngest grandson. "Aiden, what are you reading these days?"

~!~

After dinner Madeleine went to her mother and pulled her aside. While everyone else filtered out of the room and the staff came in to begin clearing the table, Sybil and her daughter stood in the corner of the dining room exchanging hushed tones.

"Mum, I have this awful pain…"

"Yes, me too, Madeleine," Sybil joked. "It's your grandfather."

"No, mum...I'm serious."

Sybil sighed out. "Of course you are. Sorry, darling. Where is it?"

"Here," she showed, pointing to a tender spot just below the swell of her stomach.

Though Sybil knew the action would be useless, she placed her hands to the area and gave Madeleine's skin light pressure. "How long have you had it?"

"It's been pretty consistent since we got here. I know you said I needed to walk around after we arrived because sitting for too long with the baby isn't good and I didn't really do that but—"

"No, that shouldn't be causing this…" Sybil dismissed. "Did you eat?"

Madeleine stared blankly at her mother. "Yes, mum, we all did…"

"Madeleine, I'm going to need you to cut me some slack here, alright?"

There was an answer Madeleine wished to give but she stopped herself out of fear of sounding like a child. Her mouth also had other plans, ones that pushed her eyes shut as she winced through another jolt of pain.

"Okay…" Sybil sighed out. "Let's get you to the hospital then."

Madeleine's eyes widened. "The hospital? Why?"

"Because I think you're close to your delivery."

"What?" she shrieked.

"Madeleine, this is part of being pregnant, love. You have to have the baby eventually."

"But here?" she asked, pointing to the ground. "No! Back in Dublin! I'm...I still have three weeks left!"

Sybil gave her daughter a sympathetic shake of her head. "No, m'darling, I don't think you do."

"Ma…"

"C'mon. Let's pack you a bag," Sybil suggested as she started to push Madeleine toward the door.

"Mum!" she yelped. "Please! I'm...I'm not going into labor. This is ridiculous!" There was another stab of pain, this time leaving Madeleine with an unreasonable amount of pressure in her lower back. She moved her hand to the sensitive area, only making it easier for Sybil to guide her toward the staircase.

The servants, while trained to turn a blind eye, couldn't help but to watch the pair. Some of them were here when Sybil had Madeleine and remembered the altogether unpleasant nature of the child's birth. A younger housemaid appeared, giving Sybil a smile before prepositioning her with a question.

"Uhm, Lady Sybil, would—"

Sybil looked to the girl, forcing a smile of her own. "Yes?"

"I just...I overheard and I set some towels out and wasn't sure if we should draw a bath or if—"

The grin Sybil shared with the housemaid turned genuine and soft. "No, but thank you. Uh...can you please ring the doctor?"

The housemaid scurried away, leaving Sybil and Madeleine to continue to ascend the stairs. This was where Cora found them, her eyes looking just as terrified as they had at dinner when Sybil and Robert exchanged words. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Madeleine's having a baby, Mum…"

"Here?" Cora asked in disbelief. "Now?"

"I think so," Sybil nodded. "Sorry for the poor planning. I can't exactly ask the child to wait now, can I?"

Cora looked to her granddaughter. "Madeleine, are you alright darling?"

"Trying, Gran," she gave with a forced smirk of her own. "I don't think I'm…" The child couldn't finish explaining her suspicion. The pain of her most recent contraction had her knees nearly buckling as all of her collapsed into her mother.

"Alright," Sybil soothed as she held most of Madeleine softly into her side. "Off you go…" she sang, guiding her eldest daughter back to her bedroom.

Sybil pushed inside. Jacob was already out of his waistcoat, puttering about the room in an attempt to distract himself until Madeleine returned. With her back his face turned white and he immediately went to her.

"What's going on?"

Sybil looked to him, her face stoic. "Your wife's going to have a baby."

"Wh...what?"

Sybil helped Madeleine get into bed. She took the child's shoes off and made quick work of pulling her hair off of her face with the ribbon Madeleine had on her nightstand. "This is how it happens, you two. You get pregnant and then the bairn actually has to come…"

"Now?" Jacob asked, slightly annoyed. "Here?"

"Get used to it!" Sybil called out as she moved to the bathroom. When she returned she carried a bowl of warm water and a small washcloth. She placed the items on Madeleine's bedside table. "Your children will continue to inconvenience you for the rest of your lives!"

"Mum…"

"Here, Jacob, take a seat," Sybil instructed. "I need to go get changed and then we need to make sure the doctor is on his way and—"

"Mum, you're a doctor…"

"I'm a…" She smiled away the correction she was about to make. If it were appropriate for women, then yes, she would have been a doctor. "I can't do this alone. Besides, he'll have medicines and—"

"Medicine?"

"Oh for Christ's sake, Madeleine! Did you think the child would remain inside of you forever? Take a deep breath and accept that you are about to give birth. I'm sorry but that is the truth of the matter. If you're not ready for this then you and Jacob better work to fix that in the next few hours...and maybe think twice next time you have sex, yeah?"

~!~

Sybil made no apologies for the way in which she entered her old childhood bedroom. Mostly it was because she didn't expect Tom to be in. Though he and her father had little in common, they both enjoyed the occasional cigar after dinner and likely had shared one while playing a game of cards. They were far from being family, but there was a certain level of civility that Sybil had to congratulate her father on. If Robert was able to forget their past completely, it was possible he and Tom could even be friends.

Because of this, Sybil was surprised to see Tom sitting on their bed, his feet propped up and a book in his lap. He took his wife in and was soon placing the novel down so he could go to her.

"Syb? What is it?"

"I'm almost positive Madeleine is about to have the baby and she is already fighting me every step of the way…"

Tom was at her side now, standing still while Sybil changed and continued to move around him erratically. "This is why I didn't want to come so close to her pregnancy…"

"And this is why I insisted it," Sybil said strongly. As she delivered the truth she let her eyes linger on her husband's as if asking that he finally accept the secret she'd only just revealed.

"Wh...what?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"The hospitals in Dublin are too crowded, Tom! I knew she was closer than the doctors predicted and I can't do this alone and there isn't a large enough staff lately to take care of the sick and the wounded!"

"So you put our daughter on a train and send her to England?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I've done!" Sybil gave strongly. "And we've accompanied her here because we are family. I've hardly led her out to slaughter. I knew my father had insisted that the doctor stay in town and I've heard he's quite good. I feel much more comfortable with Madeleine giving birth here than if we were back in Dublin. I'm sorry, but it's true."

"Well I'm sorry too!" Tom practically yelled. "You almost died here, Sybil! Giving birth to the same child who is now pregnant. Ireland is more than capable of handling all of this. You should have had Madeleine there and now she should be back in Dublin doing the very same thing!"

"Yes, Tom! Yes, typically the hospitals are more than capable. But I go into work everyday and I don't sit down or eat and barely breathe because I'm too busy trying to get to everyone. We didn't have enough help during the war and we certainly don't have enough help now. They said they wouldn't take so many of the wounded but of course we have. And the more we get into this war, the more there seem to be!"

"Sybil…"

"I can't do anything right lately, apparently! I'm sorry! I should have told my parents Madeleine was pregnant and now I should have told Madeleine or at least you that I wanted her to have the baby here. You're right! You're all right!"

"Syb!" Tom tried lastly, hoping the added volume would calm his wife down.

With a heaving chest she looked to him. Beyond her pride and the slight annoyance she felt at always being questioned, she looked somewhat scared too. "What?" she whispered in truce.

"It's...it's okay," Tom promised as he moved to envelop her. "It was...it was a good idea, I guess. I just...I didn't know. You haven't told me what's been going on at work because you've been so exhausted and when I get home, I do everything you usually do and I'm exhausted too and Christ...how do you usually do it?"

"Women are far stronger than men," Sybil said casually as if such a statement was an obvious one.

Her conviction had Tom letting out a chuckle. "Aye…" This was a proven fact as Sybil continued to move around the room, now changing into a pair of trousers and tying her own hair back. "What do you need help with?"

"I...I don't know," she shrugged. "You're not going to be in there, obviously."

"Obviously," Tom deadpanned.

"Keep Jacob calm maybe?"

"Wait! He's not going to be in there?"

Sybil was already halfway to the door and she looked down to where Tom had reached out for her arm as if suddenly offended by the connection. "I don't know. Likely not. I think this house is still reeling from the fact that you were present for Madeleine's birth. That's not typical, you know."

Tom took a step in toward her and cupped her cheeks so he could press a steady kiss to her forehead. "I suppose that's true. But we're not very typical, haven't you heard?"

Sybil smirked and stepped back into him. It was her turn to cup his face, her fingers caressing his stubble as she looked from his eyes to his mouth. "No, darling, I guess we're not." She gave him a kiss, both inhaling in hopes of remaining attached for as long as possible. Such a show of affection was rare lately, especially since they'd arrived to Downton.

"I'll let you know if I need anything, alright?" Sybil promised as she pulled away.

Tom nodded. His mind was elsewhere and Sybil made a mental note to inquire on its whereabouts at a more convenient time. "Of course."

~!~

Tom obeyed. After Sybil disappeared into Madeleine's room with the doctor, he sat outside, waiting to see if Jacob would appear. At one point he thought of going back to his own room but soon Aiden and Aine had returned from their stargazing (a difficult task in a smog-ridden Dublin) and were insistent on standing around to observe the situation. When he'd finally shuffled them off to bed, he stayed as if to ensure the security of the hallway. All the while it was not his daughter Madeleine that he thought of but instead his wife Sybil.

When Jacob finally resurfaced he shut the door behind him in a way that made Tom chuckle.

"You remember how you wanted to enlist?" Tom asked. Jacob nodded. "Well there you have it. A woman giving birth is about as close to a war zone as you should ever hope to get."

"I hardly think…"

Tom stood up. "Alright let me rephrase that. A Branson woman giving birth is about as close to a war zone as you should ever hope to get."

Jacob laughed but his face fell when he watched Tom start to walk away. "Wait, you're just going to leave me here?"

"Hardly," Tom chuckled. "I'm going to get provisions."

As promised, he returned, this time carrying two glasses and a large decanter, the latter of which was half-full. "Here," he offered, extending one of the glasses to the boy.

"Alcohol?"

Tom furrowed his brow. "What part of Ireland are you from again? Just drink it," he said, now returning to sit beside Jacob.

There was a cry of pain that rang out from Madeleine's room. It caused Jacob to sit forward but Tom remained, sipping at his whiskey. "How are you so calm?" the teenage boy asked.

"Well, first off, this is hardly my first birth. Usually I'm in there—"

"In there?"

Tom dropped his head back to the wall behind them. Again he was laughing. "Yeah. On the front lines."

"Well should I…"

"Most men don't."

"Well—"

"Did Madeleine ask you to stay?"

"No," he sighed. "She actually threw a pillow at me and asked that I leave."

"Yeah, then you're probably safer out here."

"Jesus Christ…" Jacob let out. He too dropped his head to the wall behind them. Unlike Tom, however, he was not enjoying the silence and when he interrupted the calm, Tom could only smirk. It was not surprising to him in the least that Jacob and Madeleine were friends. "Can I ask a question?"

Tom rolled his neck to get a better look of the boy. In his hand, his crystal glass was nearly empty. "Sure."

"So this is...this is where you met Mrs. Branson?"

Tom smirked, looking forward once more. "I did."

"You...you worked here?"

"I did," he said again. "That was a long time ago."

"Did you...I mean, how did you…"

"Well let's just say it didn't happen as quickly as it did with you and Madeleine," Tom jested.

"Madeleine didn't say anything...I...I had no idea."

"Well of course she didn't. She doesn't think much of it. We're her mum and dad. To her it's not all that scandalous."

"I mean, I'm not saying it is or anything—"

"No, it is," Tom assured. "Well, was…" His voice trailed off as he reached for the decanter from the floor. "Is," it settled again. "More?"

Jacob shook his head, leaving Tom to pour himself another glass. "That's insane…" Jacob let out. "My mum and dad met at church."

Tom chuckled. "Yeah, well Sybil and I never really did well with normalcy."

"That's admirable though...I mean, she just decided to go to Ireland with you?"

"Aye," Tom gave with a nod.

"Gave all this up?"

Tom looked around too, his eyes catching on the paintings and the details of the moulding up near the ceiling. Even the carpet the two rested their feet upon was far nicer than anything in Ireland. "I guess she did."

"Well Madeleine's always talking about you two. You know, how you have this great marriage. It's...it's kind of intimidating, to be honest…"

"We do...and we're both extremely proud of it. But it didn't come easy. Just like you and Madeleine," Tom said, giving a nod toward the nearby door. "It takes patience and honesty. You have to trust one another and listen to what the other has to say. It's a lot of respect, really."

"My mum...I mean, my parents aren't really in love, I don't think. It's a lot of pressure."

"Well my parents were, and I'd say that Sybil's parent's are as well. But I don't think that makes all that much of a difference when it comes to your own marriage. Really, if I can give you any advice it would be to not compare your life to anyone else's. Already you and Madeleine have had a somewhat unconventional journey. Just take it as it comes."

"Can I be honest with you?" Jacob asked.

Tom nodded and sat back once more. "Isn't that what we've been doing?"

"I'm terrified to be a dad. And I thought I had a few more weeks to figure it all out—"

In front of them the door popped open. Sybil popped her head out, bringing with it all of the noise and chaos still left over from Madeleine's delivery. It seemed that through their frank discussion, Tom and Jacob had missed most of the action concealed behind the door. "Jacob, you can come in now…"

"Is she...she's done?"

"Yes, all set," Sybil confirmed. "You have a very handsome son."

Jacob stood. "A son? Holy shite…" Both Sybil and Tom shared a laugh while they watched the boy step toward the room, motivated by an odd mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Well," Tom said with a clap to the boys back. "Off you go." He stood too, and with a stride that outstepped Jacob, he pulled to boy back by the shoulder to give him a last bit of advice. "No sense in being scared. That is until your son comes home and tells you he's knocked up a girl from university."

Jacob's eyes widened and in seeing this, Sybil looked to Tom in silent reprimand. The advice did little to deter the boy. Now he was moving quite quickly, thinking as he saw Madeleine inside that maybe he should have stayed after all. "Hi…" he breathed out as he went to her. There was no room on the bed so he knelt beside them, his hand immediately moving to cradle his son's head.

Madeleine looked down to her husband, sweat dotting her forehead as she beamed at the small interaction already occurring between him and their newborn. "You were right," she said simply. "It's a boy."

Jacob looked to her, his eyes still stretched in wonderment even as he gave her a kiss. "You okay?"

Madeleine nodded. "Could have been worse. Mum helped," she explained. "I don't think I could have done it without her."

Again Jacob was kissing her forehead. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

She smiled. "I hardly feel very beautiful right now."

"No, you are," he assured. "I...I'm so proud of you."

"Do you want to hold him?"

Jacob looked to her as if to ask for permission. Madeleine giggled as she extended their son out to him. Jacob sat back upon the floor and stared, still so amazed, as Madeleine shuffled the child into his arms. "What do you think?" she asked. "Finn, right?"

He was speechless, only capable of a nod before he placed a kiss to the child's face. "Finn Branson McKinnon."

~!~

With the two so lost in one another and their newborn son, Madeleine hardly noticed when her mother and the rest of the staff had filtered out. Finn would meet everyone in the morning, including his grandfather. That would also be the time when Madeleine, through her exhaustion, would thank her mother for all the support.

Out in the hall, Sybil and Tom remained for just a moment. Tom wrapped his hand around Sybil and she dropped her head down to his shoulder, nuzzling at his neck with her nose before placing a kiss to his pulse point. "Well that was hardly how I wanted to spend my night," Sybil admitted honestly causing Tom to laugh.

"Yeah? What did you have in mind?"

"Not that," she assured. Then she picked up her head. "You smell like alcohol."

"Whiskey," he explained. Then his hand moved from her body to grab for the decanter. "Want some?"

Sybil smirked. "I do, actually." She grabbed for Tom's glass and poured herself a nice cup of the beverage. It took her only a few gulps before the beverage was down and she was reaching for the bottle again.

"Slow down, would ye?"

"And how many glasses have you had, Mr. Branson? Far more than two, I'm going to assume."

"Yes, but it's in my blood. I can't have you ossified in this house. Not before we've even made it to bed."

Sybil gave a lazy smile and puckered her lips as if to ask for a kiss. Tom readily obliged and when he pulled away, she was urging him to stand. "Then bring me to bed…"

Tom obliged. As they walked away from Madeleine's room they left the decanter and two glasses sitting empty near the bench. Halfway down the hall the air seemed to change — less heat and a chill that made itself more pronounced, encouraging Tom to wrap a steady hand around his wife's waist. It was his turn to press a kiss to her neck, and as Sybil shied into the action, it took great courage for her to keep walking without properly attending to the task.

Just outside their door Tom scooped Sybil up in his arms. She yelped but he quickly kicked the door shut behind them so no other occupants of the home heard the way the two laughed as they came crashing down onto the bed. The moment they shared thereafter seemed to pause, turning seconds into minutes. The casual way in which Sybil had her arms draped around Tom's neck had both smiling through several kisses. "I must look a fright," Sybil admitted.

Tom shook his head and stole another kiss. He wondered if he was crushing her but was too enamored by her lips to do much about it. "Never."

"Of course you'd say that."

"Of course I would is right," he confirmed with a kiss to her nose. "Because you don't look a fright." Thinking better of his weight, Tom stood up and reached behind him to pull off his shirt.

Sybil sat up, her hair a mess of curls falling out of its ribbon as she watched him undress. "I'd help but I'm too tired," she explained.

"We don't have to—"

"No, I want to," she assured. "I'm tired but I'm less tired than I have been. I'll just apologize if I fall asleep halfway through."

Tom was half-naked now, with nothing but his underwear separating his skin from hers as he moved to cover her again. "If you fall asleep halfway through, I don't think I'm doing a very good job then, yeah?" Sybil giggled, already reaching for her shirt to toss the item away.

There was nothing especially magical about the way the two came together, but both were so happy to have one another all alone to themselves that they didn't seem to mind. There was a closeness they'd both been craving the past month or so, and Sybil nearly wept at the thought that she was the cause.

In the aftermath of their lovemaking with Tom newly returned from lighting a fire, Sybil cuddled into her husband and drew lazy patterns on his chest with her fingernail. "I'm sorry I've been so distant."

"S'fine, love. We've had a lot going on."

"And I'm sorry I lied. About all of it."

Tom turned to look to her. "Are you?"

"I am," she laughed. "But I won't say I regret it. I'm glad she was here. That was an easy birth, if I've ever seen one."

"Far better than the last birth we had in this house…"

Sybil nodded, thinking only briefly of the night Tom thought he had lost her. She blinked away a few tears. "I...I thought I might be pregnant—"

Tom looked to her once more, her words nearly propelling him upward. "What?"

"I'm not," Sybil explained. "But I thought I could have been. I was late and I'm never late and—" Tom waited for her to continue. "Just stress, I guess."

"Syb…"

"I'm too old to have any more kids. I mean, I love our children and with Madeleine pregnant, it was hardly a good time. We discussed not having any more and I was okay with that. We really can't afford another mouth to feed but…"

Tom exhaled. "But?"

"But in thinking it was true I quite liked the idea of it."

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice light. "Me too."

Sybil looked to her husband to share with him a small smile. "It's for the best, I guess I just miss all of that. It's crazy to think that next year we'll have our twenty-first wedding anniversary and that I've known you for even longer and that we met in this house…" Her voice trailed off. "Feels like a lifetime ago, honestly. Now our babies are having babies."

"You know," Tom began, "Jacob asked about you and me. It occurred to me that Madeleine probably hasn't told him about us...how we met. I mean, most people don't know, I guess. My family, yours...but everyone else just thinks you were some rich caílin I'd met in Yorkshire. But it got me thinking...it's quite the story."

Sybil giggled, causing the bed beneath them to vibrate. "I like it."

"And we've had quite the life," Tom continued.

Sybil paused. She beamed up at him all before capturing another kiss. "We have, haven't we?"

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle