A/N I don't own or profit from Downton Abbey or the characters.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the couple moving sedately along the long gravel drive. Charles and Elsie were slowly walking home from the Abbey that was once again in mourning. The long day with the funeral and the wake had taken its toll on both of them, but Charles especially had felt the strain of the past few days gather within his chest making his feet feel like lead. Elsie had her arm firmly tucked into her husband's, gently steering him along whenever his step would falter.
Charles had witnessed many deaths in his seventy years- those whose lives had been long and lived to the fullest and those who had been taken far too young. He had felt each one of those deaths acutely, had felt the pain left behind in their absence. He almost wished for a portion of that old pain, for now, he felt nothing. He was empty.
He had been numb since Elsie had come home early two days ago with tears in her eyes. She had known that her news had had the potential to break her husband, and she hadn't wanted him to hear of the latest tragedy from anyone else. Charles can still hear the waiver in her words that had sent his world crashing around his ears.
The weight of Charles's grief was great but he spared a thought for the broken family still at the Abbey. He didn't know what would become of them now that the strongest will had gone. Lord and Lady Grantham were devastated having now lost not one child, but two. Mr. Talbot had looked lost holding his newly born son. And young Master George- Charles could barely think it- now an orphan without a father or a mother. It was almost too much to bear.
The light was nearly gone by the time the Carson's reached their small cottage. Elsie removed the key from her purse to unlock the door and lead Charles inside after her. She removed her hat and coat and turned to find Charles staring blankly at his hat in his hands. Sighing gently she took his hat and then helped him from his overcoat. He smiled faintly at her and reached for her hand. Together they walked through their darkened cottage up the stairs to their bedroom leaning heavily on each other.
They readied themselves for bed with Elsie helping Charles when his hand began to shake. They climbed into bed and Elise pulled his head to her breast wrapping her arms around his great shoulders. His own arms snaked around her holding her tightly against him. They laid tangled together so long that Elsie believed he had fallen asleep.
"I shouldn't feel like this," his hoarse voice rumbled through her suddenly. "I have no right to feel like this. It isn't as if she were my child."
"She was as good as," Else said firmly, rubbing her hand along his back. "You loved her and she loved you. That makes her as good as."
Charles felt the tears that had been threatening to fall since Lady Mary Crawley's death roll down his cheeks. He had tried to hold them in but found that here now with Elsie he didn't have to anymore. For the first time since his mother had died when he was a small boy, Charles's body was wracked with sobs. Elsie held him as he clung to her. She felt her own tears fall listening to her husband's grief. She held him tighter as he fell apart in her arms hoping that she would be able to put him back together, hoping that she would be enough to heal the hole in his heart where Lady Mary had once been.