Written for the secret Santa exchange for hetep-heres. the prompt was : 17-years-old Sybil falls asleep in her nice bedroom in Downton Abbey. But the morning after, she wakes up in a very simple flat in an unknown city. And what is the new chauffeur doing there, dressed only in a pair of trousers and a bodyshirt? ("Erased past years" or "foray into the future", you choose!)
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Curled under her heavy duvet, Sybil was slowly awaking from the most peaceful sleep she ever had. Nested in her soft place, she felt safe, happy, and content. She didn't know why she was feeling that way this morning but still, it felt wonderful. Everything was so familiar: the softness of the bed, the creaking of the fire, the smell of soap…wait!
She opened her eyes, suddenly very awake. THAT was different. Instead of the usual smell of lavender soap, her room smelled…not bad, but different, the lavender replaced by a mouth-watering smell of baking. The lavender was still present on the sheets but clearly overtaken by the sweet smell of sugar filling the room. How the hell could Mrs. Patmore's cooking possibly reach right to her bedroom?
Curious, she peeked her head out from under the duvet and her heart almost stopped. Where was she? The soft, yellow paper covering the walls of her bedroom was replaced by walls painted in a light blue and the furniture was different. She shook her head to clear her mind. Surely, she was dreaming or something…Just last night, she had gone to bed so happy after surprising her whole family with her harem pants and so content after her exchange with Tom Branson, the new chauffeur. It was a nice change to have someone who was actually listening to her and ready to share his ideas with her. She was rambling so much about it when she was getting ready for bed that poor Gwen had to warn her about being too friendly with a male employee.
A soft humming coming from an adjacent room brought her back to the present time and in the unknown room. What happened to her? She sat up in the bed, surprised to feel so heavy and aching. She lifted the duvet from her body, ready to explore the room and gasped at seeing her rounded belly.
Clearly, she was dreaming or something because she was sure she fell asleep in her childhood room. Or else, she had jumped into a parallel world…that was the only possible explanation. She gasped again when her trembling hand reached to touch her belly through her thin cotton nightdress and she saw the ring on her finger. Of course, if she's pregnant, she had to have a husband. She knew she should be panicked or completely out of her mind because of the situation but her adventurous spirit was besting her fears.
She looked towards the room from where she heard water running. She supposed that her "dream husband" (yes, because she was dreaming, right?) was in there. The water stopped and Sybil held her breath. Was she ready to meet him? The soft sound of bare feet padding the floor was becoming louder and louder and Sybil plunged back under the duvet, not ready to confront the man in her state of nakedness, even in a dream.
She was just lying back when a tall and strong figure appeared at the doorway, clad only in a cotton body shirt and a pair of trousers, braces hanging on his hips. Her eyes went wide.
What the hell Tom Branson was doing here?
When he saw that she was awake, his face softened and a big smile crossed it, she even detected some…relief on it?
"Oh God, Love! You're awake!"
Sybil frowned and slumped deeper under the duvet when he almost ran to the bed. Oblivious of her demeanor, he sat next to her and reached for her, a hand pulling away some of her hair that had fallen on her face (and that's when she realized her hair was no longer as long as it used to be).
"You scared us, Love. I was getting ready to go fetch the doctor."
Not trusting her voice, Sybil frowned but relaxed under his touch, finding it quite nice and pleasurable.
"You came back from work very tired and went directly to bed," he explained. "But last night, you had a fever and were quite disoriented. I wanted to drive you to the hospital. I didn't want to take the slightest risk after the last time. But Mam said it was not necessary and she…"
"Mam?" interrupted Sybil.
Tom smiled.
"My Mam was here when you came back last night and stayed to help me with Sybbie."
"Sybbie?"
"She was worried sick about you. And quite upset she couldn't spend some time with you last night. I think she was jealous about this little one," he said, caressing her belly under the duvet. "Mam is downstairs with her. They're baking something for you. We needed to get her busy so she would calm down. You know how our daughter can be!" Tom finished, rolling his eyes.
Sybil closed her eyes. She was receiving too much information. She was married to the chauffeur, was pregnant, working…and already the mother of a little girl. What was going on? How did she find herself in this situation? Without a doubt, this was the weirdest dream she ever had.
Seeing that she seemed unwell, Tom kissed her forehead.
"Do you have headache? Do you want some aspirin?"
Sybil breathed deeply, opened her eyes and forced a smile on her lips.
"No, I'm fine, thank you."
She had so many questions to ask but how to do so without seeming to be too mad?
"I'm glad," answered Tom, kissing her hair. "I'm going to go tell them that you're awake and feeling better. Do you feel up for some tea?"
Sybil nodded and watched him leave the room. Once the door closed after him, she took another deep breath and rose up. She needed to find answers. This seemed to be too real to be a dream but if so, why couldn't she remember how she ended up married to the chauffeur and having a family with him? Yes, she had to admit that she found him quite handsome when she first saw him and his company was nice and inspiring. But she's only known him for less than a week for God sake…at least that's the case in her real life…or what she thought was…think is…her real life. She took her head in her hands. All of this was driving her crazy!
Feeling strange as she walked with a swollen belly for the first time, she took a few steps to the little desk on the opposite wall. There, she took the silver frame and stared at the picture in it. At the wedding picture…her wedding picture. Tears of frustration started to pool in her eyes. Why couldn't she remember the slightest thing about it when she was obviously so happy in this life. She didn't really interact with Tom Branson so far but from what she saw, he was very much in love with her. She put the frame back and gasped at seeing the one next to it: Mary and Matthew's wedding. So, they finally get together…in this world. This was getting out of hand. She saw the agenda near it. She opened it and went through it quickly. A few appointments were noted, some shifts schedule, but medical appointments mainly and, by what she could read, they were in Dublin. And it was 1924…
…So, it means that it's been ten years since she went to bed in her childhood bedroom in Downton. Things were getting worse…
She heard sounds of steps and giggling from the hallway and quickly went back to bed, dreading to see what would happen next. Branson opened the door, carrying a tray with tea and a mini her, smiling and proudly holding what looked like a brioche.
"Mommy!" exclaimed the little girl.
Sybil only smiled, taken aback by the way the little girl looked so much like her at the same age. Once her father put the tray on the bedside table, she gave him the brioche and jumped on her parent's bed and threw herself in her mother's arms.
"I missed you," she breathed as Sybil was awkwardly hugging her.
The little girl seemed oblivious to the strange behavior of her mother and started to chat happily and tell her about her whereabouts as Branson was pouring some tea, smiling with affection at the scene. Sybil was just stunned and was watching "her" little girl with mixed feeling. She was both proud to have created what looked like such an amazing and smart human being, but also frustrated with not remembering a thing. She accepted the cup of tea from her "husband" while smiling at her daughter, not knowing really how to act. They seemed to form quite a happy family and if, for some reasons she didn't know, had forgotten how she got here, then it also seemed pretty obvious that she didn't follow Gwen's warning about getting too close with the chauffeur.
After some time, when she was assured her mother had eaten the brioche and made some congratulations about it, the little girl got bored and declared she was going back to help her grandmother and tell her about her mom's wellbeing. She left after a kiss and the promise to be read a story later, leaving a mesmerized Sybil.
Tom then came to sit on the bed next to her and just watched her lovingly, caressing her hand while doing it. Not knowing how to behave in such a new situation, Sybil just smiled back.
"She's quite a little girl," she finally said after a while.
"Yes, she is," chuckled Branson. "If the next one is the same, God help us!"
Sybil wanted to ask him about their wedding, their life, about her work, her family, but she didn't even know how to start. Surely, he would look at her as if she had lost her mind…
"I have to go to work," Branson said, stopping her running mind. "Mam will stay with you today and keep an eye on Sybbie."
Sybil just nodded.
"I'm so glad you're feeling better. I couldn't bear to get through the same nightmare again."
Sybil frowned and was about to ask what he meant by this but his lips crashed on hers, kissing her firmly. Stunned, Sybil didn't know what to do at first, her mind going wild: "Oh my God, Tom Branson is kissing me! Tom Branson is giving me my first kiss!" But then Tom's right hand snaked around her waist, bringing her closer to him and she couldn't help the moan that left her lips when his tongue entered her mouth. As if she was used to this and it was the most natural thing in the world, her hands locked around his neck and her tongue joined his in a soft battle.
"I love you and would like nothing more than to stay in bed with you," breathed Branson, his forehead against hers when they finally parted, "but I really need to go."
Breathless, Sybil stared at him, all coherent thought gone.
"I love you, too," she heard herself say.
Branson smiled and, with one last kiss in her hair, he left the room. Once alone, Sybil fell back against the soft pillows and brought her hand to her lips still reeling from his kiss and smiled dreamingly. Tom Branson just had given her her first kiss…even if she knew it wasn't really the case by now if her condition and the little girl downstairs were any indication. The euphoria of the moment was too overwhelming and she almost forgot about her situation and the strangeness of it. She was feeling so relaxed and strangely happy. She ducked further under the duvet and closed her eyes, a smile on her lips, promising herself to ask Branson later about everything. For now, she was just too tired to think clearly and wanted to indulge herself with a little nap. She would have time later to ask him…
*/ / /
Curled under her heavy duvet, Sybil was slowly awaking from the most peaceful sleep she ever had. Nested in her soft place, she felt safe, happy, and content. She didn't know why she was feeling that way this morning but still, it felt wonderful. Everything was so familiar: the softness of the bed, the creaking of the fire, the smell of lavender soap.
There were some movements in the room and she opened her eyes slowly. Gwen was there, moving like a bee at work. Sybil smiled and stretched languorously, sighing contently. It was weird, she was feeling both rested and restless but also different.
"Morning, Gwen," she said finally with a raspy voice, frowning suddenly at seeing the color of her walls.
Why did they look awful?
"Oh God, milady! You're awake at last! You gave us quite a fear!"
"What are you talking about?" asked Sybil, sitting up in bed and massaging her head that seemed full of cotton.
"You came down with a fever last night and were quite confused. It went down a few hours ago. It's half past two."
"In the afternoon?"
"Yes, milady. I'll go and tell them you're better."
Sybil nodded and frowned. Why did all of this sound so familiar? She decided to get up and get ready. She sat in front of her vanity and looked at her image in the mirror. Why did she feel so different from last night? She looked more attentively and, on its own, her hand went up to her lips and caressed the soft skin, bringing a smile on it. She felt warm suddenly but didn't know why.
When Gwen came back a few minutes later, she found her still daydreaming.
"Sorry it took me so long but I had to tell William to go and find Mr. Branson to tell him that it wasn't necessary to fetch the doctor for a second visit."
Sybil jumped slightly at hearing the name of the Irish chauffeur and looked back at her reflection.
"Had Branson been in this room at some point during the night?" she asked.
Gwen's eyes went wide.
"What?! No! He's the chauffeur! He's not allowed in the house, you know it. And why should he have been here? Why are you asking?"
"Yes, of course I know. It's just…I don't know…I have this feeling…Forget it! I'm being silly, that's all. The fever must have been playing with my mind."
Gwen forced a smile but her face stayed serious. She found the recent interest of the young lady for the Irish chauffeur rather unsettling.
*/ / /
While Gwen helped her to get ready, her eyes had fallen on the pamphlet that Branson gave her a few days ago and she had the urge to go and speak with him about it. So that was why she was now walking with a bounce in her step to the garage.
"Hello, Branson," she said, once at the door.
The young man was working under the car and he quickly stepped from under it at hearing her voice.
"Milady," he said, bowing slightly. "I'm glad to see you feel better."
"Oh yes, I'm perfectly fine," she answered with a smile. "I came to thank you for the pamphlets. They were quite interesting but I have a question or two about it if you don't mind…"
"I'll be happy to help you, milady, in any way you need."
He smiled at her and gestured to the little bench for her to sit down. She smiled back and, when their eyes locked, Sybil felt it again: the warmth she felt earlier when she touched her lips. Since she woke up, some silly pictures were flashing through her mind, pictures of her having a life with the chauffeur and she was pretty sure they were induced from her fever but why did they feel so real? She didn't know. But, as she was now watching him, waiting for her to ask him questions, she knew for sure that she was looking at her future.
The end