I have no idea where this came from, but it has been on my mind for about three months so I decided to just write it. Originally I planned it as a one-shot, but it got too long for that so I thought why not cut it in three parts? It does follow the wonderful proposal from the CS now, but actually was supposed to head to one. So I came up with something else. Be warned, there's angst ahead and a lack of realism too, I think. Hope you enjoy anyway :)

January 1925

Thomas stepped out of the post office and shivered in the cold winter air. Heavy snowing had troubled the village the past week, most paths were slippery and it was a challenge to use them. The under butler had even thought of cancelling his half-day since there was no point in trying to get into the village, but being in need of this and that and in particular of new stamps he had decided to go. In fact it hadn't been that difficult to reach the village. The ice had been covered by another layer of snow in the morning so the danger of slipping had been reduced a little. Nonetheless, Thomas wanted to get back to the warmth of the big house.

By the time he walked past the station, he could barely feel his nose anymore and quickened his pace as much as he dared. He saw a train nearing the station, but didn't pay much attention to it until a horrible creaking and groaning emerged from the engine that spread over the train's wheels and seemed to come from the brakes fierce grip on them. Thomas winced and felt a need to cover his ears when he heard it. He stopped and stared at the train which instead of slower seemed to get faster. A deep grumble thundered from beneath the carriages and the earth around the railways started shaking, making the train loose contact with its connection to the ground. It started to loose balance. Thomas' eyes grew wide when the train tipped to the right and while it ran off the rails crashed into the station, bursting the platform. It finally came to a stop, being held by the remains of the building. The carriages that were still on the railways moaned under the pressure and while tipping over crashed into each other. There was a moment of silence. Then the boiler exploded. The blast sent everything in its reach flying and knocked Thomas over who fell backwards onto the road. In shock he sat up, watching how deadly flames fed on the station. His ears were ringing from the explosion, but after a matter of seconds he was able to hear the screams. Thomas got up with a sharp intake of breath. His backside was bruised. Having difficulty to look away from the horror before him, his gaze went up the road to the hospital. He could see how Dr. Clarkson stormed out. He was too far away to make out his expression, but it didn't take long until he turned back to the hospital and shouted something. He seemed to have gotten an immediate response, because Thomas was sure he saw him nod before he ran towards the station. The doctor stopped when he recognized the under butler. "Thomas! Are you hurt?", Dr. Clarkson asked. Thomas shook his head. "Good, run to the Abbey and get help. I need men who help to carry the wounded to the hospital and extra hands for the nurses, do you understand?"

Thomas stared at him. While Dr. Clarkson's mind worked fast due to experience, Thomas had trouble to wake from his state of paralysing shock.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Thomas? I need you to get help from the Abbey. The phone doesn't work. You have to tell them what happened!"

Finally, Thomas was back in control of himself. "I'll get help!", he shouted while he turned to ran towards the Abbey, oblivious to the facts that he had lost his hat and ripped his clothes, his bruised back forgotten. He slipped and fell more than once while he sprinted down the path to the big house.

Carson was serving tea to the Earl in the library when the ringing of the fire bell of the Downton fire brigade reached his ear. With a frown he stepped to the window, almost dropping the cup when he spotted the huge, dark grey cloud of smoke rising from where he knew the village was. "Milord", he addressed his employer. "I believe you should see this."

Lord Grantham got up with a questioning look. He joined his butler at the window. "My god", he said. "Something must have caught fire."

Carson had no chance to answer for the door swung open with a bang and a breathless and messy Thomas stumbled inside. "What's the meaning of this?", Carson scolded him, but then saw that the man's clothes were ripped and he seemed to be hurt.

"There was an accident, Mr. Carson. They need help!", Thomas shouted, panting for air.

"What accident?", the Earl asked.

"A train - it must have been the ice – it crashed into the station and there was an explosion. Dr. Clarkson needs help. There are so many wounded. We must hurry!"

A moment of shocked silence followed Thomas hasty report. Then the Earl turned towards Carson. "Go downstairs. I need the male servants to go the station as fast as they can. Using the cars would only slow us down. Any of the others who has the slightest experience in nursing shall head for the hospital. Thomas, you come with me. We meet in the village, Carson."

"Yes, milord", Carson answered. They parted in the hall. Carson was quick to gather the servants. There was no time for long explanations or putting on more than their coats, before they hurried out of the servant's entrance and made their way to the village. While they were rushing down the path his eyes were searching the group for Mrs. Hughes. Although it took most of his concentration not to slip he realised that she wasn't with them. Considering the time, she might have been on her rounds and would be informed about what had happened by the few maids Carson had ordered to stay at the house.

When they reached the station, Carson stopped dead in his tracks. He had never seen what he saw now. The station lay in ruins, the train awkwardly pressed into it. Flames rose from what used to be the ticket office and refused to be put out by the firemen. Villagers were freeing the passengers from the carriages. Everywhere around the place of accident people were lying in the snow.

The Earl spotted his staff and hurried to them to give directions. "Carry the people to the hospital. That's all Dr. Clarkson needs us to do right now."

Carson was left standing alone in a matter of seconds. Despite having been told what to do, he didn't seem to know how to do it.

"Mr. Carson!", a familiar voice called out for him. He turned to see Anna running towards him. She slipped when she had almost reached him and he was quick to catch her. Only when she stood safely he saw the panic on her face.

"What is it?", he asked.

"It's Mrs. Hughes", Anna shouted. "She wanted to catch the one o'clock train to York. Mr. Carson!"

Carson was sure he couldn't be hearing this right. She had told him nothing about that. "Are you sure?" His voice was barely a whisper, while he started to feel incredibly sick and all colour left his face.

"I'm sure! I talked to her when she was about to leave!" Anna was close to screaming. She had a feeling that her words hadn't gotten through yet. "You must find her!"

Carson turned to the chaos. This couldn't be. Not her.

"Mr. Carson!"

A deep breath of cold air finally cleared his head and all the trouble of understanding the situation was gone. Without another word he stormed forwards. He had to find her. It couldn't end like this. Not now that they were engaged. I'll find you.

He was at a loss where to start. She could be anywhere. Think Charlie, he told himself. Where would she be if she had been on the platform? His eyes wandered to the spot where he knew she usually waited for a train. He took calm breaths to stop himself from throwing up. The train had hit that exact spot. If she had been there, she would be trapped under ruins or worse, she had been crushed by one of the carriages if the explosion had not killed her. He fought these thoughts, but they were likely to be the cruel reality.

"Over here, Mr. Carson!" It was Thomas who had called out for him. Carson fought his way past the wreckage to the other side of the station. On the snow covered meadow another few dozen people were lying. Thomas was kneeling next to someone. A fireman stood close to Carson. "Those were standing on the second platform when it happened. The blast threw them over here", he explained. Carson had heard the man, but didn't pay much attention to it. Even though Thomas was covering most parts of the person, Carson knew here by the dark green coat. It was her favourite. He dropped on his knees beside the under butler. "It's Mrs. Hughes", Thomas said. Carson removed his coat and put it around her. He didn't dare to take a closer look. The glimpse of blood soaking the snow beside her was enough to make him want to scream. Carefully he picked her up, making sure her head rested against his shoulder. Leaving Thomas, Carson made his way to the hospital as fast as possible. She was cold, pale, but he could see that her chest was still rising and falling, even if only very weakly. She was still alive.

"Don't leave me now", he whispered. They still had an engagement to announce, a cottage to take care of, a wedding to plan and a retirement to spend together. "I won't let you go."

The hospital was overcrowded. The second chaos Carson faced that day. Lady Edith spotted him and recognised whom he was carrying. Somehow she managed to find a bed where Carson placed Mrs. Hughes carefully. Mrs. Crawley was suddenly there, freeing Mrs. Hughes of his coat and checking her for injuries. "Fetch Dr. Clarkson", she told Lady Edith. Again Carson didn't know how the young woman managed, but she returned with the doctor. He examined Mrs. Hughes quickly. "The right collarbone is broken. One rib on the same side and two on the left are partially fractured. The right leg is twisted. We must operate. There are splinters causing internal bleedings." Mrs. Crawley quickly wrote down what Dr. Clarkson said and hurried to find the doctor what he needed.

"What is there I can do to help?", Carson asked. He was forcing himself not to think about all the injuries she had and the pain she was in.

"I need you to help get the wounded here, Carson. There is nothing more you can do for her now."

"But…"

"Carson, these people are all severely injured and won't stand a chance if we leave them lying in the cold. They must be brought here if we intend to save most of them."

"Understood", Carson replied. "But she will get through?"

"I don't know. I'll do what I can. And so should you!"

Carson took one last look at her before he forced himself to do as Dr. Clarkson had asked. If Mrs. Hughes had been awake, she would have told him the same of that he was sure. She was always the one who helped and now it was his turn to do just that.

TBC

Please let me know what you think. :)