Sybil/Branson - 2x08 rewrite
A/N: I'd just like to make it clear that I in no way would change Sybil and Branson's story line for 2x08, it was absolutely perfect - which is why so much of that dialogue made it into this story. However, this idea was swimming around in my brain so I had to give it a go. It was fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it, cliche and over dramatized as it may be. :)
Also, check out my Downton tumblr if that wasn't what sent you here. I do character pov vignettes from time to time and other misc. Downton bloggery - .com
Disclaimer: not mine. i know. fellowes!
Lady Sybil Crawley rested on the sofa, her mind reeling and her stomach churing. Beneath her frock her legs were trembling, her hands nervously knotting themselves on her lap.
"Sybil, are you quite well?" Violet asked her, leaning forwards slightly.
"Yes, Granny," she replied, "I'm sure it's nothing, I feel a bit... run down is all,"
Violet nodded and dropped the topic, leaving Sybil to continue to stew in her nervousness. All thoughts had gone out of her head except for Tom, and deep in her heart she hoped her family would welcome them with open arms. Her head knew otherwise.
The door opened suddenly, revealing Tom Branson in a pale suit, Sybil's butterflies started up again with a vengence, but she quelled them as best she could.
"Yes?" Robert turned to Tom, clearly confused.
Tom ignored him, and looked to Sybil, a smile spreading across his face, "I'm here,"
"So I can see," Robert stated.
Sybil stood and crossed the length of the room to him, her legs weakening but her mind willing her forwards, "I don't think this is such a good idea, we musn't worry Granny..."
She took another step forwards, their proximity too close for any other chauffeur and lady, "You've asked me to come, and I've come."
Violet piped up from her place on the sofa, "Would someone please tell me what is going on? Or have we all stepped through the looking glass?"
Sybil wanted to reach out and take his hand, but she restrained herself as Tom spoke, "Your Grandmother has as much right to know as anybody else,"
"Why don't I find that reassuring," Violet raised an eyebrow.
The room paused, the air suddenly thick with anticipation. Sybil stepped forwards, "You see," she cleared her throat, "the thing is, I've fallen in love with Tom, rather, we've fallen in love with each other,"
"What?" Cora was the first to break the silence, "Sybil what are you thinking of?"
"I know it must come as a shock, Mama," she began again, "but I've spent so much time considering this, and trying not to love him," giving Tom a glance she suddenly felt stronger, "but I can't."
"You can't have thought at all," Robert finally spoke, "because if you had, you would have come to the conclusion that he is beneath you and could not provide for you."
"Oh, Papa," Sybil tried but was cut off.
"Sybil," Robert gave a shout but it was Cora who got in the next word.
"Sybil, this is hardly rational, you say you love him. But how long has this been going on? A month?"
There was a pause as they waited for her answer, Tom included, and she took a step back, her eyes locking with his, "I guess it must have been," she thought for a moment and studied his face, "before the war... it seems so long ago now,"
"Sybil!" Mary rose from her seat, "I hardly think this is the time, you should have waited to tell them,"
"What?" Robert's head snapped to his eldest daughter.
"I urged her to wait, to consider it longer, I knew but I thought..." she began
"What do you mean you knew?" Robert approached her, anger flooding his thoughts.
"I hoped it would blow over," she replied earnestly, "I didn't want to split the family while Sybil might still wake up,"
Robert turned to Branson, "And all the time you've been driving me about bowing and scraping and seducing my daughter behind my back!"
Sybil mentally groaned and knew that that was the last straw for Tom, "I don't bow and scrape and I've not seduced anyone." he spat Robert's words back like poison, "Give your daughter some credit for knowing her own mind."
"How dare you speak to me in that tone!" Robert retorted, "You will leave at once!"
"Oh, Papa," Sybil tried.
Robert merely laughed, "This is a folly, a ridiculous juvenile mess,"
Violet held up a hand, "Sybil," she said, "what do you have in mind?"
Robert gave a short laugh again, "Mama, this is hardly,"
"No," Violet stopped him again, "she must have something in mind, otherwise she wouldn't have summoned him here tonight."
"Thank you Granny," Sybil tried to straighten up but she was feeling weaker by the moment. Pushing it aside she faced her Grandmother and gave a glance to Tom before continuing, "Yes, we do have a plan, Tom's got a job on a paper, I'll stay until after the wedding, I don't want to steal their thunder," Sybil nodded to Matthew and Lavinia. "But after that, I'll go to Dublin."
"To live with him?" Cora stammered, "Unmarried?"
Sybil leaned closer to Tom unconciously and felt his eyes studying her face, she continued, "I'll live with his mother while the bands are read, and then," she looked up at Tom, "we'll be married, and I'll get a job as a nurse."
Violet leaned forward to address Tom, "What does your mother make of this?"
He sighed, "If you must know, she thinks we're very foolish,"
Violet gave a knowing laugh, "So at least we have something in common."
That was the catalyst for Robert, "I won't allow it! I won't allow my daughter to throw away her life!" He shouted.
Sybil shook her weary head, "You can poster it all you like Papa, it won't make any difference!"
"Oh yes it will," he argued.
"How?" she countered, "I don't want any money. You can hardly lock me up until I die," to this Robert had no answer, so she continued, "I'll say goodnight. But I can promise you one thing: tomorrow morning nothing will have changed, Tom," she turned to leave, her trembling fingers clenched into fists at her sides.
She could feel Tom following her as she briskly walked through the house into the main hall, "I can't accept this, I won't,"
"You don't have to," Tom came closer as she slowed and pressed a hand to her back, "they love you very much Sybil, and they'll come around, one day."
"I know," she pressed a hand to her forehand, "I just wish it were sooner rather than later,"
He nodded, placing his other hand on her upper arm, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into her flesh, "After we're married, and after we're settled they'll see, they'll come round,"
A flood of dizziness washed over her and Sybil leaned forward slightly, Tom's grip on her arm tightened, "Sybil are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she shook him off and righted herself, "I'll be fine, I'm just tired and angry, I think I need to lie down,"
He gently smoothed her hair and brushed his fingers along her cheek, "Tomorrow will be better,"
"I know it," she agreed, smiling.
"Goodnight then, love," he kissed her hair and gave her a smile in return.
"Goodnight," she murmured as he turned to walk away, "Branson!"
He turned back around, a smile still on his face, "Yes?"
"I love you," she said, "you know that?"
"I do," he nodded, "And I love you,"
The following evening Sybil once again put on her fine frock for dinner and headed for the dining room, to face her family and their questions once again. Before she could quite make it her father stopped her in the hall and pulled her back.
"Sybil," he shook his head, "you understand that if you do this, if you marry the chauffeur, you won't be recieved in London. You'll no longer be welcomed at court,"
Her jaw set and she bit back, "Your threats are hollow don't you see? How do I make you understand? I couldn't care less."
"Sybil!" His voice raised.
She felt suddenly sick again, but couldn't back down, "I will not give him up!"
Her father remained silent, watching her as she took a small step back and held herself up. Something was wrong, he could sense it, but he couldn't find the words to ask why.
"This is my offer, I will stay one week to avoid the impression that I've run away, and because I don't want to spoil Matthew's wedding. Then we will marry in Dublin and whoever wishes to visit will be very welcome," Sybil pushed past Robert and headed for the dining room, leaving his protest dying on his lips.
The sound of dinner was not conversation but that of scraping forks on plates and the click of jaws as they ate. Cousin Matthew finally broke the silence when Mr. Mosely fumbled a bit with the white wine, "Mr. Mosely, are you quite well?"
He stammered in reply, "I... I ... I'm alright, thank you sir,"
"I don't believe you are," Matthew shook his head and studied the weary man.
Sybil had been feeling progressively worse during dinner. Her corset was suddenly too tight and she felt she was fighting for proper gulps or air. Standing she placed a hand to the table for balace, "I think that I'm not quite alright," she admitted, "please excuse me,"
"Sybil?" her mother questioned and rose alongside with the men, "Is it serious? Should we..."
The words no sooner left her mouth than Sybil pitched forwards against her mother and forced them back down against their chairs.
"Sybil! Someone call Doctor Clarkson at once!"
Anna steped forwards, "he's already here for Mr. Carson, I'll fetch him straight away," she left the dining room in a bound.
Robert went around the table in a flash to help Sybil, "Cousin Matthew, help me get her upstairs to bed, please,"
"Of course," Matthew agreed and took Sybil in his arms.
Downstairs Branson was entering the servants dining quarters, dressed in the same suit, a hat in his hands. He was idily waiting for some word from Sybil, any word, and he desperately hoped the day alone with her family had not swayed her mind.
"Mr. Branson," Bates murmured to him, "I'm sorry about last night, I heard from Anna,"
Branson nodded and sighed, "we should have spoken out long ago."
Daisy turned at the sound of gossip, "Spoken out about what?"
"Oh why not," Branson murmured to himself, "Lady Sybil and I are getting married."
The shocked faces that stared back at him had hardly a moment to process the information before Mr. Carson entered the room, "Have you no shame?"
Tom shook his head, "I'm sorry you feel like that, Mr. Carson, you're a good man, but no, I have no shame. In fact, I have great pride in the love of that young woman and I will strive to be worthy of it."
Before Mr. Carson could brush Tom off again Anna appeared behind him, short of breath and looking for Branson, "Mr. Branson, may I speak to you?"
"What's happened?" he asked.
"It's Lady Sybil," she tried to speak in a hush but the others were clearly alarmed, "she's collapsed at dinner, taken very ill it would seem,"
Branson's blood ran cold, "Where is she?"
Mr. Carson stepped forwards, "Anna, I will not allow this,"
"Mr. Carson please," Bates stopped him.
Anna resumed, "we've fetched the Doctor for her and he says it's Spanish flu, Lord Grantham told me not to tell you... but I felt you should know, Lady Sybil would want you to come,"
"How serious is it?" Branson fumbled for words.
"There's no way to tell just yet," Anna admitted, "Doctor Clarkson said we'll have to see how she fairs through the night,"
"Where is she?" he asked again, "I've got to see her,"
"I'll take you," she started up the steps, "but I'll warn you, Lord Grantham won't have you there,"
"He can't keep me from her,"
Anna took him to the start of the hallway towards Lady Sybil's bedroom, "it's just down there, you'll see them outside the door I'm sure,"
"Thank you Anna," Branson murmured, "you've been good to us,"
"She loves you," Anna smiled, "you just have to make Lord Grantham believe that,"
Branson gave a small smile and turned, walking quickly towards Lord Grantham and the majority of the house except for Matthew and Isobel who were with Lavinia.
"No, Branson," Robert stood and blocked his view of the door, "you can't be here, all you'll do is ruin her life."
"But I don't accept that I am ruining her life," he argued, "and I have to see her,"
Robert shook his head, "Think, Branson! How could you even begin to look after her? Provide for her? We shouldn't be arguing, my daughter is very sick and she needs care, she doesn't need you."
"I'm sorry to disagree with you, but she does need me, M'Lord, as much as I need her,"
"Very well," Robert sighed and shook his head, "how much money would you take to leave us in peace?"
Branson took a step back and shook his head in frustration, "I don't want your money, however generous the sum, I want to see my fiance."
Robert scoffed, "That's enough,"
"I can't keep fighting you, sir," he said again, "it's not worth it while Sybil's lying there, sick and in need. I must go to her, and you must let me."
"I must do no such thing!"
The door opened behind Robert and Mary slipped out, "Papa, lower your voice, it's distressing her," Mary shushed them.
Branson turned to Mary, "is she alright? Will she be alright?"
"Branson please," Mary placed a hand on his arm, "her fever has worsened and she seems somewhat delirious, but the situation doesn't look too grave,"
"But it could turn so?" he asked.
Mary hesitated, "it could," she sighed, "but it's rather unlikely,"
"I don't like the odds M'Lady, and I'd very much like to see her," Branson pushed again.
Mary gave her father a look and then nodded to Branson, "she's been asking for you,"
Branson's eyes brightened, "then I must see her,"
Robert hesitated, "I won't allow it,"
"Papa," Mary chastised, "let Sybil have this while she's ill, fight them again in the morning if you must, but while she is ill let this lift her spirits."
Branson felt sure that he would push his way in if they did not agree soon.
"Alright," Robert resigned, "only for now,"
"Thank you," Brason said as he pushed his way past them and into Sybil's bedroom.
A/N: There you have it, now if you liked it, onto part two with ya!