Summary: When the shrapnel in Bates' knee shifts unexpectedly, the pain is nearly unbearable. Will he and Anna be able to cope with the change in his circumstances, or will it be enough to finally break them apart?
Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey, only this particular configuration of words.
A/N: This story will be angsty. I began writing with the premise which I know from experience, that there's one thing which can alter people's personalities rather quickly - pain. Pain can change people, especially when it is ever-present and inescapable. I've tried to keep Bates as in character as possible for this story while also remembering that he is not infallible. I'm also ignoring the season 4 storyline cause I can't make this story work with it, so assume it is set sometime after season 3.
The shrapnel in his knee shifted.
Bates felt it the moment it happened as he took one of the last steps downstairs. Placing his weight on it when he reached the ground was almost excruciating. He leaned heavily on his cane and the railing as he took a moment to collect himself and see through the pain.
Mrs. Hughes happened by. Of course, it would be her to witness such a moment, the moment he'd feared for years.
"Are you alright, Mister Bates?" she asked, motherly concern written across her features.
"I'm fine," he forced out. "Just took a bad step."
"Perhaps you should sit down."
She made the suggestion as though he hadn't thought it himself. But it was a long way between the stairs and the servants' hall.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. I will do that."
Thankfully, no one happened down the corridor in the next few minutes and his pain was concealed until he reached the table in the servants' hall. There he found Anna, sitting in her favorite chair as she mended a gown for Lady Mary.
One look at his face was all she needed to discern that something had happened. She turned to him as he dropped his weight into the chair beside her.
"What happened?"
He wanted to lie to her, to tell her he was fine. But she was his wife and she deserved to know the truth.
"I think the shrapnel in my knee has moved again. Putting weight on the leg is suddenly unbearable."
He delivered the news frankly, realizing as he did that she would not understand the importance of what he'd just said.
Bates always knew that if his leg ever got bad enough to keep him from walking on it, that he was done. The pain would be too much to work, even if he resolved himself to push through it. Before Anna, he had no notion of how he would live out his life in such a state.
But now he had a wife. He had someone who depended on him and his working wage. The thought of letting her down once more was unthinkable.
"We should call the doctor," Anna said. "Perhaps there's something-"
"There is nothing he can do," Bates interrupted. "The doctors told me years ago that if they attempt to remove the pieces, the damage will make it impossible for me to move the leg at all."
"But maybe Doctor Clarkson-"
He shook his head. "The choice is between using the leg with pain or not using it at all. I made that choice long ago and I'll make it again."
Her eyes filling with worry, Anna observed, "This isn't pain. You were in agony. I could see it."
The rest of his life flashed before his eyes in that moment. Bates could see Anna coming home from work every day, only to take care of him in the evenings and mornings and on her half days. She would be a mother to him rather than the children he'd failed to give her, a nurse forced to work even in her off hours. And she would do it so gladly, he knew, reassuring him and acting to keep his spirits high as she helped him to table for dinner or up the stairs to bed.
People would speculate he'd married her so she could take care of him in this eventuality. The old cripple ensnaring a lovely young woman to look after him. After all they'd been through together – after all Bates had put her through – the thought of that future appalled him.
Forcefully, he pushed himself up from the table. The pain immediately returned as he shared his weight with the bad leg. But if he was careful and made judicious use of the cane, he could stand it, he felt certain.
"Where are you going?" Anna asked. "To the cottage?"
"No," Bates said. "I still have work to do."
"But you can't work like this."
On any other day, he would find her concern for him touching. But on this day, with the pain radiating up his leg from the knee into his thigh and lower back, he could not stand it. She did not pity him, he knew, but he hated appearing so weak in her eyes.
"I have to work," Bates ground out. He set off at a slow walk, letting himself get used to the agony. He knew he'd have to own it and make it his own if he were to get through the day.
He could feel Anna's eyes following him. He wondered if deep down within herself if she ever regretted settling for a man like him. At the same time, he could not bear to know the truth if she did.
Anna waited to walk him back to the cottage that evening. Several people had remarked to her on how tired her husband looked, but she'd only seen him a few times since their encounter in the servants' hall. He'd missed dinner to catch up on work he'd been too slow to complete during the day, and now he was running more late than usual.
When he finally made his way down the stairs, she could see irritation in his expression.
"You didn't have to wait for me," he scolded her.
"Of course I did," Anna responded. "How is your leg?"
"It is still attached to my body, unfortunately," he remarked dryly. Spending the day on it had obviously done nothing for his mood.
"Do you want to rest before we go home? I can probably scrounge some food for you if you'd rather eat here."
But Bates just shook his head. "If I sit down, I'll never get up again. And I'm not hungry."
They walked to the cottage very slowly. Anna could tell that he worked extra hard to keep her from seeing the pain he felt. But she still worried, her mind working on the problem as it had been all day.
She did not confront him with her solution until they arrived home.
"You're going to see Doctor Clarkson," she informed him. "Tomorrow."
"I've already told you-"
"And now I'm telling you. You can't keep on this way. And even if you can stand the pain, I can't stand to watch you hurting," she revealed. "So tomorrow we'll go see the doctor and see what can be done."
Anna waited, expecting him to argue with her. For all his excellent qualities, she knew her husband could be stubborn. But he also had a curious inability to deny her when she insisted on something.
"If you wish," Bates agreed grudgingly.
"And now you're going to eat dinner and then you're going to let me help you up to bed."
Nodding his ascent, she set to work putting together a small meal for him. He ate in silence as she watched, and she could see him fighting against the embarrassment caused by his situation.
"Anna, there may be nothing the doctor can do," he began.
"You don't know that."
"Whether I do or not, you need to prepare yourself. If nothing can be done, then we will have to accept this."
"I won't accept you torturing yourself every day," she declared.
"I have to work."
"Why do you have to work? They'll let us stay here and with my wages-"
Bates shook his head almost violently. "I won't be a burden on you."
Anna stared at him, horrified. Did he really think that way? Did he really believe he could ever be a burden to her? Even if she had to wait on him hand and foot every moment for the rest of their lives, he could never be a burden.
"I believe my vows included the phrase 'in sickness and in health,' Mister Bates," Anna chided him.
He said nothing for a time, and she stood to clear his dish from the table. Neither of them spoke as she helped him stand, and he made no protest when she put herself under his arm to act as a human crutch as they made their way up the stairs. He leaned on her heavily, but she gladly took his weight, overjoyed to finally be useful to him. He sighed as she deposited him on the side of the bed and watched her as she retrieved his night shirt.
But as Anna returned with it, Bates reached out and took her hands in his. He pulled her to him until she stood before his seated form.
"I love you," he told her simply. "Thank you for your help."
"I love you, too. And you are welcome." Looking down into her husband's eyes, she assured him, "We'll get through this, and we'll do it together."
He inclined his head, apparently accepting her declaration. She moved her hands from his grip to wrap them around his neck, hugging his head to her breast. As the distance between them evaporated, his arms encircled her waist, holding her with a tight grip.
When he woke from the nightmare a few hours later, the images were still fresh and troubling in his mind. He'd been alone in the forest, stuck in a pit of mud and unable to move his legs. The cold wrapped around him, clenching the night air so tightly that each breath stabbed his lungs like tiny knives.
And then suddenly, he wasn't alone. Anna was there beside him in the thin linen shift she so often wore to bed. While she was not stuck in the mud, she struggled to help free him. Ignoring her chattering teeth and shivering muscles, Anna tugged and pulled at him with all her strength. Mud quickly caked her arms and legs and stained her shift. In the distance, he heard the sound of wolves howling, but Anna ignored it, keeping her sole focus on helping him.
The wolves grew closer until he could make out movement in the shadows behind her. Bates urged his wife to leave him, to run away and save herself. But she did not even acknowledge his entreaties. Her movements had grown sluggish, her skin pale and even her lips taking on a faintly blue tinge.
"I won't leave you," she promised him, even as one of the wolves nipped at her bare feet. Anna's scream came at the same moment he saw the blood – she was covered in it. And then the scream abruptly stopped.
Bates sat up in bed, the spell broken. A quick glance confirmed that Anna lay safe beside him, still asleep. But the room had grown cold during the night. Unconsciously, he slipped out from under the covers to retrieve another blanket from the closet on the opposite side of the room.
The moment his knee hit the floor, intense pain shot through his leg. Gritting his teeth, Bates forced himself to limp to the closet. He would not wake Anna to get the blanket, and he would not let them freeze because of the pain from his injury. The nightmare was still fresh in his mind, with Anna's blood refusing to leave his vision. Few would argue what the dream had symbolized – his disability was going to bring her to ruin.
He was going to bring her to ruin.
But he could not let that happen.
TBC