For the Love of Me
Summary: AU After three years in prison, John Bates loses all hope of being released and decides to set Anna free.
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey or the characters.
A/N: I felt like writing an angsty piece delving into what would happen if, after enough time passed without his being released from prison, Bates regretted marrying Anna and decided to try and free her from their vows. I anticipate this being a two-parter. Reviews are appreciated.
Three years.
A lifetime could have passed in the three years since his incarceration and Bates would never have known it, not locked up behind bars. Whereas the world outside had cycled through the seasons three times, his existence continued to be the black and gray of the dead of winter. And his only solace, the only color to flit into his prison, was her.
The wardens knew his wife, were always polite to her because they'd gotten to know her over the years. Her kindness was almost legendary as she brought cookies for them on holidays and flowers in the summer. And her smile could charm the venom out of a snake.
"Not sure what you did to con that pretty little thing into marrying you, Bates," one warden told him, an echo of the sentiment they all shared. "Lucky bastard."
Even the other inmates were jealous.
"I told me mum to come on Wednesdays so I could get a look at yer gal there, Bates," commented one of the men with a cell across from his. "Pity she's married to a lifer like you."
If Anna noticed the eyes on her as she walked through the gates and took a seat across from him at the visiting table, she gave no indication. Instead, she always favored him with a grin and a look of pure adoration.
After three years, she still came faithfully, every free half day she got. She still wrote him - twice a week - without fail. And when she smiled at him in greeting, her eyes still shone with love.
"I'm afraid there's still no news from the solicitor," Anna told him on this fateful day three years after his sentencing. "And I still haven't found any new leads. I must have talked to everyone who ever knew her a dozen times now."
Bates could only nod, the magnitude of everything she had done for him choking his throat with emotion.
"I haven't given up," she assured him, misreading the agony in his eyes. "I promise you, I'll never give up until you're free."
"It's been three years, Anna," he managed.
He'd marked the days as they passed with excruciating slowness, counting each one as a broken promise.
"I'm sorry it's taking so long," she told him, sounding as guilty and miserable as he felt. "I should have found something by now-"
He interrupted her, "No, you don't understand. It's been three years. There is no evidence out there. If it existed, you'd have found it already."
She sputtered, caught between the embarrassment at her perceived failure and the resignation in his voice. Anna didn't comprehend his meaning, he realized. She thought he blamed her somehow, as if any of this was her fault.
"We'll find something," she assured him, just as she always did. "If I have to spend the rest of my life looking, I will-"
She stopped as Bates closed his eyes briefly, letting out all the breath from his body. "I don't want that."
"What?"
"I don't want you to give up the rest of your life on this."
Anna searched his face in confusion. "I don't understand. We can't give up-"
"No, that's exactly it. We can give up. You can give up, and you should."
His meaning finally got through to her - he could see it in the way her jaw muscles flexed, in the sudden hardness of her expression. When she spoke, she did so with anger. "Forget you, is that what you want? Leave you here to rot in prison while I move on with my life?"
"Yes," he told her, although saying the word hurt worse than any pain he'd ever experienced. "That is exactly what I want."
As much as he hated pushing her away, Bates knew he'd been selfish to ever become involved with Anna. That selfishness had only gotten worse as he began courting her even before he could be certain of his divorce from Vera. But the ultimate expression of his narcissistic greed for this pure, beautiful woman came on the day he'd met her at the registrar's office in Ripon and exchanged vows with her. Of all the sins he'd committed in his life, tying Anna to him when he knew he faced a murder charge was the worst crime he'd could imagine.
Ironic how his best memory, his most cherished moments, coincided with his greatest shame. She'd been adamant about them marrying but he should have been stronger, should have insisted on waiting until after the police were done with him. Instead, he had been weak. So many times Anna had proposed ways they could be together which were detrimental to her, and each time he had put his foot down, to spare her. But not that time, not when she'd very nearly ordered him to take out the marriage license. That day he'd been weak and selfish in letting her bind herself to him.
At first, Bates could not bring himself to regret the hasty wedding. With Anna by his side, he actually survived the trial and sentencing. He could face the future knowing she would be there every step of the way.
Part of him had assumed that because he had not killed Vera, there had to be some proof to free him. But as each week turned into a new month, doubts crowded his mind. Perhaps there was no proof. Perhaps he would never be let out.
At first, he'd taken solace in Anna's loving faithfulness. He'd wrapped himself in the knowledge that she was out there, waiting for him, and used it as a cloak against the cold, dark nights. But as months faded into years and the years began to stack, his 'perhaps' solidified into sharp reality. Hope faded completely, leaving him with only the letters and visits from his wife. Anna gave him the will to keep living, to make it through one more day, day after day. Her tireless devotion kept him going.
Until one day, a few weeks earlier, when he realized what it was costing Anna. He'd noticed it on one of her regular visits. She always wore hats when she came to the prison, pinned properly into place. But on this day the rain outside had soaked through both her hat and coat, and she shrugged out of the heavy woolen fabric. Then she'd unpinned her hat and put it to the side.
While her hair was still pulled tightly into a bun, for the first time in dozens of months, he saw her just as she appeared in his dreams, blonde hair shining even in the muted light of the prison. And amid the golden hairs on her head, he immediately saw one which was a lighter color. Silver. A single silver hair on Anna's head.
In that moment, he realized that despite her ever youthful appearance, Anna had aged since he'd known her. That first meeting at Downton, she'd been in her mid 20's, an accomplished young woman but she was still very young. Over a decade had passed since that time, and could see the years reflected on her face. A few lines here and there, that single gray hair...
And a lifetime of sorrow in her blue eyes.
While Bates knew that he was innocent of murder, he was guilty of theft. He'd stolen three years of Anna's life while he was in prison, three years she gave to him willingly, innocently. Like a true con artist, he'd somehow convinced her to remain true to him, to fight for his release, despite giving nothing back to her. And he had nothing to offer her, nothing at all. She subsisted on her pure, misguided love for him, like a beautiful flower alone in the desert.
But no more.
Bates could not watch her squander more precious years of her life away waiting for him. He would never be released from prison, never be free to give her even a fraction of the life she deserved. The only honorable thing to do was to go back on his word to her, to break his vows and set her free from hers.
"I've spoken with my lawyer," he went on, fighting back the tears that threatened to drown him. "He's in the process of putting together divorce papers."
By the expression on Anna's face, she'd have been less shocked if he'd taken out a gun and shot her. Her mouth fell open slightly as she stared at him, all color draining from her face.
"You aren't serious," she managed.
"I'm very serious, Anna."
"What... I don't understand."
Her tears were coming - he could see them welling up in her eyes as readily as his own.
"Three years, Anna, and we've found no evidence."
"I'll go back and look at everything again," she offered quickly, wringing her hands in front of her. "I'll quit my job and look full time. I know I've missed something-"
"No," he said severely, not caring if he got the attention of the wardens. "I want you to stop this, Anna, and let me go."
"Never." Her tears flowed freely, her face as devastated as the day they'd sentenced him to death.
Now he wished they'd hung him, if only to spare Anna this prolonged torture.
"I never should have married you. It was selfish of me, so incredibly selfish-"
"No it wasn't. I insisted-"
"I should have had the grace to let you go then rather than drag you through all this-"
Anna continued to shake her head at him. "I won't listen to this."
"You're wasting your life with me as your husband," he told her, but she was already talking over him again.
"You're not doing this. You made vows to me-"
"It's for your own good-"
"-and I made vows to you-"
"It isn't fair to keep you to those vows," he growled sharply.
"Fair?" she demanded. "None of this is fair. You're in prison for a crime you didn't commit. The life we were supposed to have was torn away from us and now I live every day hoping for a miracle. How is any of it fair?"
"Anna, if we keep on like this, you'll end up wasting your life."
Ignoring his pleas, she pleaded with him, "Do you love me?"
Bates rubbed his hands across his face. Knowing he couldn't lie to her, he stayed silent and averted his eyes. A moment later, she demanded again, more desperately, "John, do you love me?"
"You know I love you," he said finally, the admission torn from his throat.
"Then stop this nonsense. I won't listen to it."
Forcing his voice into utter calmness, he told her, "You need to listen, Anna. This is your future we're talking about."
"My future is with you."
"If your future is with me, then you have no future," he gasped.
Anna sobbed openly as she sat across from him, her broken and bleeding heart evident for not only for him to see but also the two closest wardens who were watching them with interest. Bates had not realized he could despise himself more than he already did, but in that moment, seeing the betrayal in her eyes, he understood the true meaning of self-loathing.
"Why are you doing this?" she all but whispered through her tears.
How many times had he left her crying? How much pain had he caused her in the years since they'd met? John Bates had never struck a woman in all his years, but he felt like an abuser for all the hurt and suffering he'd caused her.
Belatedly, he wondered what kind of life Anna would have had if he'd never been around to ruin it. Would she have accepted Mr. Moseley's attentions? Or one of the young men from the village? Would she be a mother already, with one child on the hip and another growing inside her?
Would she be happy?
"With me out of your life, maybe you can actually have a life. Meet someone... start a family..."
"That's not what I want," she declared. "I want you."
"You can't have me," Bates seethed. Why couldn't she understand? The life they dreamed of together was never going to happen, not for him at least. But it could still happen for her. She could still find happiness. "You come to visit me, you write me, and to what end? I'm in here and you're out there, and nothing is going to change that."
Anna continued to shake her head, no longer bothering to dry the tears on her face. "It doesn't matter where you are or what separates us. I will always love you. Only you."
He shook his head violently. "And I love you enough to keep you from wasting your life for the love of me."
Before either of them could say more, a warden stepped up behind Bates and gripped his arm. "Visitin' time is over. Back to your cell."
His last image of her as they took him away was of his beautiful, faithful wife in tears, her heart as shattered and broken as all her hopes and their shared dreams. His only consolation was the unsteady wish that she could mend the pieces together and move on without him.
The wardens who had a particular fondness for Bates' pretty young wife decided it was fitting that he be punished for bringing her to tears in the visiting room. The beating hurt less than the pain of what he'd done to Anna, so Bates bore it without much complaint. Bruises would fade. The screaming pain in his knee would eventually settle back to a dull ache. But the memory of Anna's face would stay with him forever.
Two letters came from her that week, just as they always did. But he could not bring himself to open them. Despite what he had done to her, Bates knew her writings would be full of declarations of love for him, of hope and dreams for their future. He had no right to her happy thoughts.
TBC