Title: their spirits must be lifted
Fandom: Downton Abbey
Word Count: 494 words
Characters/Pairings: Dr. Clarkson, Thomas/Edward
Summary: Companionship and camaraderie, Dr. Clarkson thinks, are just as necessary to keep you alive.
Notes: Spoilers for Episode 2x02. Written for dollsome's prompt (Thomas/Edward Courtenay - heart and shoulder) at the Downton Abbey Comment Ficathon. The usual disclaimers apply.
There are ghosts that follow men back from the front: allies and enemies and innocents, names and faces to haunt you, waking and dreaming. There are things that keep the living fighting: a mother's words, a girl back home, a love for God and king and country.
Companionship and camaraderie, Dr. Clarkson thinks, are just as necessary to keep you alive, to keep you trying during the After (the wound, the injury, the amputation and the operation, the shell shock, the anger, the numbness and the melancholy). He once believed he could recreate that sense of brotherhood within these walls, resigns himself now to hoping for some mere semblance of that armor in his hospital. (There is enough of a battle with - between - his patrons as it is.)
Corporal Barrow is a changed man - Dr. Clarkson does not know of one that would not be - a reasonably steady worker struggling to maintain a calm face in the midst of battles he himself is reliving. He thinks, after initial inspection, that it will do Thomas some good to see others heal, to help them in that healing. It is different, so different, from praying for your own safety while patching another man's guts in the trenches, never knowing whether the blood flowing freely is your own.
He does not reflect on the boy's initial motivations to enlist, to the manner in which he has returned. It was years ago, and there are far too many pressing issues at hand. (Dr. Clarkson has long learned that there will never be enough time to dwell on one soldier; he owes that to all his patients.)
Nurse Crawley alerts him as to the progress of Edward Courtenay, and while the blindness is still hesitantly referred to as temporary, there is a remarkable change in disposition. Dr. Clarkson makes his rounds, watches as his patients laugh, a smile forming on both their lips as they converse quietly with one another. Though no mention was made of the corporal, it is quite apparent, even without an ounce of medical training, that he too looks much better than when he first arrived. Major Clarkson does not need to hear the words to know the catalyst: companionship and camaraderie and brotherhood.
It is his sincere hope that these fonder memories will be carried with him to the convalescent home. No man could ask for a sturdier crutch, one that could be shared so freely with those that needed it and those only learning to begin that they did. He will not - can not - admit that he would prefer the recovery process to continue under his care, but he is a doctor and soldier, has duty to too many and resources so few. He will have to inform the lieutenant and his caretakers of this news before the end of the night. (The war will still - may always - be there in the morning).