"You 'ave to get better m'lady. You 'ave to. Because there's no one in this house better than you, no one, and if you leave...if you leave me... No, you can't go m'lady, because I love you."
Cora stirred in the early hours of the morning. At least she believed it to be the early hours of the morning – her head was swimming so much it might be 1920 and she wouldn't have realised – and released a barely audible moan. Everything felt so terribly cold but less foggy than it had done before. The room was quieter than it had been the last time she had stirred; no Doctor Clarkson, no Mary, no Robert. Just the soft breathing she knew, even feeling like there was an elephant sitting on her chest, belonged to the one woman she knew would be waiting for her if she'd survived the night. She was still here, she'd survived, unless this was heaven and if it was she was sorely disappointed, and so was Sarah O'Brien. She blinked in an effort to rid her vision of the blur she could only imagine came from hardly using her eyes over the last couple of days; opening them had simply hurt too much so she hadn't bothered, even at the start when she'd tried to be so brave for the girls. She flexed her fingers weakly against the mattress, creeping them over the sheets until they brushed over those of the other woman's with feather-light softness. She opened her mouth, her voice barely a croak from disuse, to softly whisper, "O'Brien?"
Sarah raised her head quickly at the sound of her mistress' voice. She'd imagined this moment over and over since this nightmare had begun, but nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught of emotion that barrelled into her at the sight of her lady, awake and alive and still looking so bloody beautiful lying on what had so very nearly been her death bed. She was a bit sweaty mind – more than a bit, given what her poor body had been through – but still the most glorious thing Sarah had ever laid eyes on and she clutched her hand as tight as she dared, given the woman was clearly still so weak. She smiled softly, stroking the back of Cora's knuckles and fighting a losing battle against the tears pricking so precariously at her eyes.
"Welcome back, m'lady."
Cora's lips drifted up in a ghost of a smile and she closed her eyes again. The effort to keep them open was massive, no matter how lovely the sight of the other woman. She looked thoroughly exhausted, the silly thing, and as soon as this was all over she intended to have a very long conversation with her maid indeed. She stroked her thumb weakly over the other woman's hand and let out a little breath, doing her best to lick her lips and relieve them of their dryness – she was desperate for a glass of water, for the first time since this illness had really set in.
"You're still here." She smiled again, managing to briefly open her eyes and fix them on the other woman. "You didn't leave me."
Sarah smiled, gripping Cora's hand that little bit tighter, if only to prove to herself this was real. She had prayed so much for Cora's recovery throughout the night, had begged and threatened any deity that would listen to bring the woman back to them all, but she didn't think it was prayer that had brought the Countess back to the waking world; it was her own strength, strength her own bloody husband sometimes forgot she possessed. They'd all written her off for dead, but not her. Sarah O'Brien knew Cora Crawley, and her lady would never go down without a fight.
"I'll never leave you m'lady an' I didn't. Not for a second."
She placed her hand gently behind her neck, simultaneously reaching for the glass of water she'd readied earlier on the off chance her mistress had roused long enough to want some, and brought the rim up to her dry, parched lips. Cora's body would no doubt lurch in protest at being moved, even marginally, and so she wrapped her arm tighter around her, cradling her close and supporting the other woman's weight entirely as she sipped tentatively from the glass.
Cora spluttered most of it out – she barely had the strength to even swallow – but the little water that did pass her lips felt glorious sliding down her throat. She sagged back heavily against the pillows as Sarah guided her back down and let out a shaky breath, reaching weakly for the other woman's hand again and gripping it for all she was worth.
"I knew you wouldn't. I knew you were here, the whole time. I could feel you. Sometimes I could hear you but I could always feel you."
Sarah's eyes stung at that, and she stroked back her mistress' hair reverently, placing the glass back down on the bedside table. Of course she hadn't left – how could she even contemplate leaving this woman when she needed her the most? Oh they'd tried to dismiss her – his lordship had practically ordered her from the bedroom, not that he'd had any intention of staying himself, the stupid git – but she was going nowhere. They'd have to drag her out.
But now she was awake, and it hadn't occurred to Sarah whilst she'd been nursing her ladyship back to help, but it did now, light a bolt of bloody lightning; what exactly had the Countess heard?
There was plenty she could have heard, she hadn't stopped rabbiting on like the fool she was in the hope that Cora would wake up and tell her to put a pipe in it, but amongst all of the senseless, desperate nonsense there had been truth too, truth she couldn't help but hope her ladyship had missed, because otherwise she'd be finished. And the prospect of leaving Cora now after the woman had almost left her made her die a little inside.
She forced a smile and squeezed Cora's hand.
"I'll get Doctor Clarkson, m'lady. He should be 'ere to check on you, an' his lordship-"
She pushed herself up, fully intending to do as she'd said, but she was stopped by Cora's surprisingly strong grip on her hand. She looked down at her mistress to see her staring plaintively up at her, and found herself willed back into her seat by big, blue eyes that she'd come so very close to never seeing again.
"Don't leave, not yet. They'll check in on me soon enough, but for now let it just be us. Please."
Cora sighed in relief as Sarah sat back down with a gentle "As you wish m'lady." There was very little she could do to stop her leaving, but she hadn't left her all night and now was no exception. She smiled wearily at the other woman, absurdly touched as she tucked the sheets around her with such care one would think she was made of glass. But there was something else lingering behind her touch, something that had always been there in retrospect but she'd been so foolishly oblivious to before. It all made so much sense now in the wake of the confession she wasn't sure Sarah even remembered making. Her maid had been exhausted of course, possibly delirious...but had she meant it?
The implications, if she had meant it, were enormous. She might still be riddled with influenza, but she had enough sense to know the responsible thing would be to dismiss Sarah immediately, even if her heart demanded something else entirely.
"What you said to me, O'Brien, last night...was it true?"
Sarah's blood ran cold. Of course her ladyship had remembered; it wasn't everyday your lady's maid confessed to being instrumental in the death of a child, and though she'd been convinced confessing had been necessary at the time – that maybe it would set Cora's conscience free and bring her back to life – she bitterly regretted it now. And for once in her life, she couldn't give two figs about saving her own worthless skin; who was going to take care of her ladyship when she was gone?
"M'lady, please forgive me. I never meant to-"
"So you don't love me?"
Her sins hadn't been all she had confessed last night. She'd said the words she'd felt for ten long years in a fit of desperation, but by god did she mean them! All these years she'd loved Cora Crawley so ferociously she'd forgotten how it felt not to love her, and what point was there in denying it now?
"I do, m'lady. I always 'ave. An' of course you'll 'ave my resignation."
"Your resignation?" Cora weakly arched an eyebrow. The responsible thing would be to dismiss her, but it wasn't what she wanted. After all it had been Sarah at her bedside these past few days, not Robert. Lord knows where he had been, but given their dealings lately she wasn't at all surprised to realise she didn't much care. "Dear O'Brien, there are many things I want from you, but never that."
"But...his lordship-"
"His lordship isn't here." Cora's lips drifted up in a smile, and she reached again for Sarah's hand. "You are. You always have been and I've been a fool not to see it until now."
Sarah blinked back tears, brushing back the dark, damp locks plastered to the sides of Cora's face, smiling like a bloody loon if ever there was one.
"You've never been a fool to me." She leaned in, cupping Cora's cheek and kissed her so softly she might have imagined the whole thing, but the briefest of responses from Cora told her otherwise. She pulled back, her heart lighter than she could ever remember it being, and gave the other woman a tender smile. "We'll talk when you get your strength back. I promise m'lady."
Cora smiled faintly. "Will you still be here when I wake up?"
She was asleep before Sarah could begin to respond. She leaned in, smiling softly, and pressed her lips to the Countess' forehead.
Her eyes were already begin to droop, but this time Sarah knew she would wake up.