A Telling Mark

I have no idea why, but right now, I'm completely obsessed with period dramas. First there was P&P and now Downton Abbey took me in again. In addition to my obsession with period dramas there is one more obsession I have. I have not yet used it in a story ever, but I always imagine it. I know it's a cheating plot devise, but whatever. XD

I have to admit I never quite recovered from Matthew's death. I loved the character and I loved his relationship with Mary. Watching on after his tragic death was just so hard for me. Tony is fine enough I guess, but still, I like my romances happily ever after, at least in fantasy if not in real life.

Another point is, I always regretted that they had a six month gap between season 3 and 4. I know we had the desperation the sorrow and the pain after Sybil's death, but somehow I always wanted to see the initial reactions to Matthew's death.

This story is set two weeks after Matthew's accident/George's birth (so much for initial reaction :P)

As always please rate and review

And of course, nothing about Downton Abbey belongs to me.

Downton Abbey was asleep, had been for the last two weeks. Where laughter and joy should have been, silence filled the halls. Where busy working noise was supposed to be, only apathy was found. Lady Sybil's death a mere year ago had thrown Downton Abbey into mourning. Matthew Crawley's death had paralyzed it. Only the bare minimum of work had been done ever since. Everyone tiptoed and it was only spoken in whispers.

Who could have imagined such a reaction not even ten years ago when the young middle class man had come to the Abbey, suddenly the heir, the hope, the future. They had watched him learn and adapt, had watched him grow into his own and into his future role as Earl Grantham. They had seen him broken during the war, had seen him recover. And they had been witness to the extraordinary love story between Matthew Crawley and their very own Lady Mary. They had suffered and hoped, cried and rejoiced with them and the whole house had been in an uproar when they finally had found their way back to each other after all the pain, suffering and miscommunication. The birth of their child should have been the perfect fulfillment of they happiness. Instead it had become the bitter tragic ending.

Lady Mary had hardly shown any reaction since her return from the little country hospital, the little bundle who was now the rightful heir to Downton Abbey in her arms. She didn't cry, she didn't scream, she didn't speak. She had put on a black dress and walked the halls of Downton like a silent ghost. Ever so often stopping in some random place of the house or grounds, staring into thin air, but never showing any reaction. A bench in the park, the top of the staircase, the front lawn and every time in front of her former bedroom, a room she had not entered since her return.

Little George was left to the care of others. His mother hardly ever looking at him. Or so it seemed.

Every night, Lady Mary's feet let her to the nursery where she stood for hours and hours looking at the sleeping child in the crib. Her son. Matthew's son! All that was left of her beloved husband was this tiny life. And every night that thought overwhelmed her anew. How could she, how would she manage? Raising her child without him seemed impossible. He was the kind one, the sweet one, the caring one … she was just …

She knew her family was worried about. Everyone was! She only pretended not to see the looks they gave her. It was easier that way. If they thought she didn't see, they didn't bother her so much. It was like they were holding their breaths waiting for her to break down.

Every time she turned around Carson was never too far away from her, ready to help as soon as she needed it and if he could not be near, there was always Anna. Sweet, kind, caring Anna. She had been with Mary when they told her about Matthew's death and had hardly left her side ever since. Only after she had spoken to Bates, had Anna agreed to at least leave her alone at night and return home with her husband.

Papa spent most of his time buried in work, trying to distract himself, but every time her looked at her, she saw him fighting tears. His eyes glassy and red and he disappeared almost immediately back to drown in his paperwork. Matthew's death had shattered the usually so proud and collected man.

It had surprised Mary to see how much Matthew's death had affected her only remaining sister, but maybe she was doing her injustice in this case, both of them. Edith had always been the ugly ducking of the family, lacking Mary's good looks and quick mind and Sybil's charm and liveliness, but Matthew had always supported her and tried to defend her against her family. His loss had awoken a unexpected strength in Edith. She seemed determined to make him proud, now more than ever. She had almost single handedly organized the funeral, received all the messages of condolence and managed the oceans of flowers people still dropped of at the house. It had come as something of a shock to realize just how well liked, almost loved, and respected Matthew had really been in the village.

And Granny … Granny had been, for the first time Mary could remember, speechless. No witty comments, no dry humor. If Sybil's death had aged her, Matthew's death now brought her almost to the brink of death. Every time she came around, Mary wondered with a weirdly detached curiosity, how long she might survive after this.

The other servants were worried too, she knew. Mrs. Patmore constantly cooked her favorite food and Daisy always made sure to put one of the flowers onto the tray. Mrs. Hughes made sure that Mary was never disturbed about anything. She tried to support her as good as possible.

Isobel had tried to talk to Mary about Matthew, but she couldn't face it. The other woman's obvious pain about her lost child was too raw. She didn't want to confront it, she couldn't. The first time it had happened, the day of her return to Downton, she desperately wanted to flee the room but didn't know how, when suddenly Thomas had dropped the tea cup he was about to hand Isobel into her lap. Mary had taken the chance and fled. Ever since that day Thomas's new found clumsiness had saved her from more than one unwanted conversation.

Worse than Isobel's pain was her own mother's pity. Cool, composed Cora. She had never cared too much about Matthew. Had never truly understood Mary's attachment to him. For her the marriage had mostly been one of convenience, making sure that her oldest child would get what was always supposed to be hers if it hadn't been for that cursed entail. And the fact that the foremost emotion in her eyes now was pity, was proof of that. Mary however could already see the wheels turn in her head. Only yesterday had she overheard her parents. They had argued. Apparently Cora was already considering possible future husbands for her newly widowed daughter. After all a boy needed a father, didn't he? After two weeks! At the moment Mary downright hated her mother!

Her eyes travelled over her son's beautiful face. She could only hope, her own child would never feel about her the way she felt about her own mother right now. Matthew had said, she would be a wonderful mother, but how could she? Without him? He was the one who had brought out her softer sides, he had always seen the best in her even when nobody else not even herself had seen it. His love had made her a better person. She had meant what she had said to him. She always wanted to be his Mary Crawley, but how could she, if he wasn't around to remind her who that was? She wasn't sure she still knew.

Suddenly the door to the nursery opened. Startled she spun around. It was Tom. He smiled at her, apparently not surprised to see her. Quietly he closed the door behind him and walked over to Sybbie's crib. He softly stroke the little girls cheek and readjusted her blanket.

Tom had hardly said anything to her in the last two weeks. He had left her alone, never imposing, never pressuring. But she knew he would be there without a second thought, should she need him. After all from all the people in the house he was the only one who truly understood what she was going through.

Mary was about to return to her own thoughts and her own child, when he finally spoke. "You come here every night. You stare at him, but you never pick him up. Not even when he wakes. Why?"

Surprised she looked up. "How do you know?"

"The nanny told me after the first time. She wouldn't be a very good nanny if she didn't realize someone was coming into the nursery every night. So why?"

Mary didn't answer at first.

"Why, Mary?" he gentle asked.

"I can't! Don't you see that it's better for him when I stay away? I don't feel anything. I don't cry, I don't scream. I know I should, but I can't. I should be sad, but I'm not. I don't have a heart and I don't want him to grow up with a mother like that. Without Matthew I'm not a good person, I can't be a mother. He deserves better than that."

Tom sighed heavily. "Of course you can be a good mother and, of course, you have a heart."

"How can you say that?" her voice now almost shrill. The two little children squirming uncomfortable in their sleep but settling down again after a moment.

"In fact, I believe you have a very big heart. Which is exactly why you feel nothing." he continued as if she hadn't said anything.

"Don't be absurd."

"Feelings are a funny thing. Too much of them can make you numb. Sometimes you have to push them away to go on. But it will come the time, the right time for you, to let them all out. And when that time comes you will realize they have been there all along, you just weren't able to deal with them until that exact moment. So, don't blame yourself too much. You love your son, and you will be able to show him. When you're ready."

She stayed silent.

"You're already doing it right. If seeing George with other people present is too painful than keep coming here at night. Just don't stop interacting with him or it will come the time when you will regret it."

Sybbie whined in her sleep. Tom leaned over her and whispered loving nothingness at her until she calmed down again with Mary watching him thoughtfully. She looked at George. So sweet, so beautiful, so peaceful. Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked right at her. They were blue! Just like his father's. How come she had never realized that before? Slowly his sleepy face broke into a big grin. A small squeal escaped his lips and he wiggled in his crib his small chubby arms reaching for his mother. For the first time since Matthew's death she let herself look at him, truly look at him. And just a little bit of the love she knew she should feel filled her heart. Slowly she leaned over him and picked him up. Holding him close to her chest, she took in his scent, a single tear escaping and running down her cheek.

Tom from the other side of the room watched her, a little smile on his lips.

Suddenly a the door bell rang, rudely interrupting the night sleep of Downton's residents and waking little Sybbie.

I'm sorry to say, I have not idea how fast infants develop, but I suspect after two weeks little George would not yet be as active as I made him out to be. I apologize for that, but somehow it made the scene more relatable for me. So in this case emotionality won over reality. ^^

Well, now that I have established some of the reactions and changed the relationships, the story can begin … probably.

What did you think of my ideas? Do you think I was too harsh about Cora? Or made Edith and Thomas too nice?

Please let me know your thoughts I'm looking forward to them. And also, I don't have a beta and english is not my first language so I hope you forgive me all my mistakes. If they are to grave, let me know, so I can learn from them.