A/N: This piece is in response to a prompt by Terriejane who wanted something that addressed John's satchel. The parts in italics is in the past or memories for Anna. Hope you all enjoy! Please review.

There was a time when she hated that weather worn satchel. Well... maybe not hate. Hate was a strong word. But, it had never been a sign of good things to come. It was usually a sign that John would be leaving her, and even now with him sitting by her side, she was reminded of those times...darker times when she was left standing there as he walked away. As they sat on the train, bobbing back and forth to the gentle rhythm of the wheels rolling along the tracks she had to tell herself that he was safe now, he was here, and he wasn't leaving. At least no where without her. She swallowed hard as she pushed those bad memories from her mind. Anna let out a content sigh and smiled to herself as she snuggled up against her husband's shoulder a little closer. John looked down at her longingly and lightly patted her arm with his hand as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. She noticed he was beginning to fall asleep, but despite waking up just as early as he had to catch the first train out of Downton, she found herself rather restless. Anna brushed a piece of lint from her long black skirt and smoothed the fabric stretched across the velvet covered seat on the train. She watched the wires of the telegram posts follow alongside them until they were no more. The countryside looked beautiful this time of year, but soon they would be arriving in their new home by the sea in the new hotel they had purchased. Anna stared off wistfully into the distance as she tried to imagine the better times that would soon follow with their move.

"Anna? May I speak to you in my office?" Mrs. Hughes asked. As if losing Mr. Bates once hadn't been enough when he left the lady's maid without reason; the unlawful imprisonment and the life sentence that now loomed over his head had nearly broken her, of that the housekeeper was sure. She had been keeping a watchful eye on Anna much like a mother bear with her cub. If Thomas or O'Brien so much as looked at Anna wrong they were given a swift and resound warning from Mrs. Hughes.

Anna obediently made her way into the older woman's office and stood before Mrs. Hughes as she sat at her desk. Mrs. Hughes could see the toll that being away from her husband had taken on her. She doubted very much that her young protege had gotten much sleep in the last few months. When she wasn't trying to follow up on leads to clear her husband's name, Anna had been running herself into the ground with work-anything to keep her mind busy. There were bags under the young girl's eyes both from exhaustion and crying her eyes out, but never in front of staff. No. Anna had always made a point of things never to show weakness in front of others. She gestured for Anna to take a seat and the young lady's maid did so. "Anna, as you know we have a few new footmen that we've taken on and well…"

"You need Mr. Bates room," Anna filled in with a tired voice. She fidgeted nervously with her hands. In her heart of hearts she knew that something like this would happen eventually just as Thomas had eventually been called upon to fill John's shoes for Lord Grantham instead of Mr. Carson. Yet, no matter how much she prepared herself it always came as a jolt to her system. It was like losing him all over again, only now it was happening piece by piece until nothing would remain.

"Yes, of course we would love to wait and see if Mr. Bates will return," Mrs. Hughes said before she was interrupted.

"But you don't think that likely now due to the verdict," Anna interrupted. "It's alright Mrs. Hughes, I wouldn't expect you all to hold a place for him forever." Anna's voice was sure and true as she spoke but even the matronly figure that sat across from her was not swayed by the look in the young charge's eyes. "I appreciate you letting me know. It means a great deal to me," she said.

"The reason I called upon you is that Lord Grantham has offered for us to put Mr. Bates things in the attic for safe keeping. But I thought I'd let you go up into the men's quarters while the staff is out for the day running errands so that you may see if there is anything you want from his room. Perhaps a keepsake of sorts," the older woman hinted. At those few words a spark lit up in Anna's eyes. "You are his wife after all. It only seems right that you be able to see if there is something of interest or that might help you in your mission to free Mr. Bates."

Anna nearly leapt out of her chair as she flew into the older woman's arms. "Oh Mrs. Hughes, you have no idea how much this means to me," Anna said as a set of tears trickled down her cheek.

"Oh I gather I do," Mrs. Hughes replied as she patted Anna on the back.

Mrs. Hughes had offered to help Anna in case there was anything she wanted to be brought down, but had been kind enough to allow Anna her privacy when the young lady had refused and mimicked her husband when she said she could manage. Mrs. Hughes closed the door behind her and said she would be just down the hallway keeping an eye on the back stairs that led to the kitchen and servants hall. When she went to open the door that Mrs. Hughes had unlocked, a rush of memories overcame her. She was reminded of when she had brought him the tray after they had sacked him for no good reason. The tears on his face still as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday. Despite his best efforts to cover up his emotions, she had been able to see through the facade (though it didn't take much). She could still remember how his hand had brushed against hers as he took the tray from her. Finally she stepped inside and let the scent of him invade her senses all over again. It wasn't as if she had forgotten that all too familiar musk; a perfect mixture of pomade, soap, mint tea, and the hint of a cigarette when he tried to hide his nasty habit.

At first Anna felt overwhelmed, not quite knowing where to begin or what to think. How many times had she dreamed of sneaking away to be in his room, simply for the pleasure of being nearer to him? And now that she was here, he was not. His room was tidy: his comb and pomade were laid out neatly on the dresser; his other suit was pressed and hung in the closet; the bed was perfectly made. Though she'd hardly expect anything less of a valet. Even in his personal life he preferred to keep things in order and in the best condition possible. Everything but his satchel that is. Her eyes travelled across the room to find it tucked beside a chair holding a tiny wash basin. She let her attention drift to other objects in the room, but still the satchel nagged at the back of her mind.

Anna opened the tin can of pomade and sniffed it and was reminded of times when they had caught a moment alone in the courtyard. Her hands would often find themselves tangled in his hair as she drew him in closer to her lips. The scent would often linger on her hands until she had a moment to wash them. She closed the lid and placed the tin casing in her pocket to take back with her. Her eyes glanced over at the suit. It was his brown suit that he often reserved for church. The one he had been wearing when they first met. The one he had been wearing when they got married. Anna could still recall his voice when he told her how he felt bad that he hadn't been able to get a nicer suit for such a special day. She quickly assuaged his worries by reminding him she'd rather have the right man than the right wedding and that she loved how it brought out his hazel eyes. Anna let her hand run along the lapels of the suit and tried to picture John and the way he filled it so nicely. Even better was when she recalled how he looked as they took it in turns to undress him on their wedding night. And then she remembered why his bed was still so perfectly made; he hadn't slept in it the night before his arrest.

Keeping an ear out for Mrs. Hughes or anyone else that might be wandering the halls Anna cautiously took a seat on John's bed. She smoothed the covers with her hand and wondered if he had thought about her as much as she did about him as he lay in his bed just down the hall from her. Turning to look at his pillow, Anna could see the faintest imprint of his head still in the pillow case. She looked over to the pictures on his nightstand. It was only a few, but they were lined up perfectly and only with the faintest layer of dust on them. There was one of his mother, whom she immediately recognized, what a sweet, old soul she had been. Anna was sorry she couldn't attend her funeral with John, but counted herself lucky to have met the woman that raised her husband. There was one of two young men, a closer appraisal quickly told her it was John and Lord Grantham during the Boers War. He was always a strapping, handsome man, but she rather preferred the way he looked now to the way he looked then. He wasn't just some boy out to escape the confines of home or prove himself by fighting for King and country. Now he was a man. It seemed so foreign to see John without a cane that she hadn't really considered how he might look without one. She had to admit to herself she was somewhat disappointed there wasn't one of her on his nightstand, especially since she knew she had taken one of herself when he was still working at the pub in Kirkbymoorside during their time apart.

Aside from his clothes in the dresser drawers she couldn't think of anything else that she would want to take with her. As much as she loved to have that glimpse into the past she didn't want to keep that picture of John. She'd rather have a picture of him the way she knew him and not the way he was. Not the way he had been when he was with Vera. Then her eyes travelled back to the bag sat propped up in the corner of the room staring back at her; taunting her was more like it. How many places it had been able to go with him while she sat watching him fair from the sidelines? She could not begin to count or recall, nor did she wish to. If only she could fit within that bag, Anna would have crawled inside it and let him take her wherever he went.

She decided to allow herself a moment to observe it. Much like she'd observed John in his first few weeks at Downton. Maybe if she got to know it's character and appeal she would understand why it was such a cherished item to him. It sat there almost slumped over, having lost it's form over the years from normal wear and tear. Its deflated appearance often reminding her of the way her husband had appeared when he had first arrived at Downton. While she was sure that John still took care of it, much as he did all of his prized possessions, the exterior was faded, having lost most of it's original veneer. What little remained of the leather bound surface was slowly peeling off. She could hardly make out the initials that were engraved into the leather anymore "C.W.B". On closer inspection the W appeared larger than the "C" and "B", perhaps then the "W" was a first name. The "B" clearly stood for Bates, perhaps it was a family heirloom. She'd have to inquire about it the next time she went to visit John. Her hand came to rest on the thick handle of the bag that had lost most of its color from the place where her husband's hand had been so often before. Anna noticed the brass latches that were holding the handles in place were on their last leg and on the verge of breaking off. Much like her husband, this bag had travelled a long, hard road, but it still had plenty of life left in it.

Anna walked the short distance across the room and brought the bag over to the bed and sat beside it; their combined weight causing the mattress to sink in a bit. Anna's thumbs rested on the lip of the bag as she contemplated opening it; it wasn't as if she were a stranger, but the fact that she was doing it without John around felt wrong somehow. She thought she heard a stirring in the hallway and became aware that her time in here was limited and she couldn't dawdle all day long. Anna would just have to tell her husband later that she had gone through the bag. Her heart hung heavy as she undid the straps and opened the bag. The smallest of creaks escaped from the satchel as the leather expanded.

Anna took a deep breath and released it slowly as her hand submerged into the bag. Once her fingertips fell upon some unidentifiable object she retracted her hand as it clutched the item gently. Anna turned it over in her hand carefully to reveal a leather bound notebook. It was John's journal. She considered not opening it for fear that he would think it an invasion of privacy but the temptation proved too great. Anna convinced herself that she may never get to see her husband again and right now this was the only thing that might keep her sane. She opened the book and turned the pages softly, making sure not to tear them. She read a piece here or there. Anna got to read her husband's first reaction to meeting her and how he quickly fell in love with her but was cautious not to show his true feelings. Her eyes filled with tears as she recounted how he had been mistreated and underestimated in his first year at Downton. It made her long for her husband all the more, instead all she had was his pillow to hold onto as she tried to console herself.

When she had calmed down enough she placed the journal on the side of the bed and continued digging through the bag. The next treasure she unveiled was a neat stack of letters tied off with string, she quickly recognized his name scrawled in her hand and realized they were the letters she had sent to him while he was in Kirbymoorside and London. Some had to be sent to his solicitor to prevent Vera from intervening, but she was touched that he had held onto them all these years. Most of them looked as though they had been read a thousand times over as the paper threatened to tear where it had been creased in the fold of the envelope.

Inside two deep pockets he found a copy of their marriage license, a pair of reading glasses she hadn't realized he needed, and his hidden stash of cigarettes. She rolled her eyes at the last one. There was a secret compartment on the side that had almost gone unnoticed but after years of taking care of Lady Mary's bags she had become quite astute at checking every last nook and cranny for any possible missing earrings. Anna lifted the flap and unveiled the photo of her; the one she had sought out on his nightstand. It looked creased on the edges, possibly from pulling it out and placing it back inside but her heart nearly leapt from her chest knowing that he had kept it there. Safe from prying eyes or potential destruction-where no one could take her from him.

While it was still a mystery to her why her husband would want to keep the bag, she had a new found love and respect for it. The weather worn satchel may as well have been an extension of her husband, like his heart worn on his sleeve. He had kept his most valued possessions in there, most of which pertained to her and she couldn't think of a greater honor. She took comfort in the fact that in some ways he had always carried her with him; even to places she could not go. Anna clasped the bag shut and packed it to take with her to her room. The rest could be moved to the attic. She closed the door, leaving the rest of the room just as it was and carried the bag like a well guarded secret to her room down the hall.

At her next visit to the York prison, Anna was already sat at the long table waiting for them to bring John out to her. When he sat across from her he looked tired and haggard; a few months had already aged him ten years. He'd lost so much weight and his limp looked more pronounced from being without the assistance of his cane for so long. But no matter how he felt or looked John always managed a smile for her. "I brought some things for you. I thought they might cheer you up," she said.

"You already cheer me up," he attempted to sound charming. While his words were sincere, John predicted that it was simply more books to keep his mind busy. The only way she could cheer him up was if it was to tell him this had all been a mistake and he'd been released. He often tried to spare her the details of the horrors that existed beyond the visiting area.

She responded to his words with a half smile. Anna retrieved a stack of letters for him; the one's she had found in the satchel. "I found these while cleaning out your room for Mrs. Hughes, I thought you could use them. I also added ten new ones, including…" she lowered her voice and leaned forward, "one with a picture you had stashed in the secret compartment of your bag."

"You naughty girl," he replied with a smile. While the warden wouldn't let them touch her hands held onto the envelopes until his hands had reached them. It was the closest they would come to holding hands. And the notion was not lost on either of them as their eyes filled with tears. "I love them," he said softly.

"I love you," she replied in an equally low voice.

"I love you more," he mouthed back. He knew that attempting to say the words aloud would only make him burst into tears. He couldn't show weakness. Not here.

"I hope you don't mind, but I kept your journal. Sometimes when I read it I can hear your voice. It helps," she said in a sad tone.

"You read my journal?" he asked.

"You aren't mad are you?" she replied.

"No. I hold no secrets from you. But I can't imagine that anything that came before you is worth reading," he said.

"I did have one question. One answer that I can't seem to find in your journal," she said. "Who is C.W.B? Is it a relative of yours?"

"That's my father. It's actually William Charles Bates. It's why the 'W' is larger on the lettering," he explained.

He didn't look particularly happy or sad to talk about his father. He simply rattled off a fact and that was the end of it. "Did you know him well?" Anna asked.

"No. He passed before I was old enough to remember him. The bag is really all I have left of him," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said as her head hung down. Anna stared at her hands that were still in her gloves.

"Anna, you don't have to apologize. You are my wife and you have every right to ask these questions." It wasn't as if she could wait to ask him in private when he came home he thought to himself. "He was a brave man, a good man-at least that's what my mother told me. He went to war and came home but he was never the same. Unlike myself, he couldn't quite kick the drinking habit."

"I wish you and your mother could have been spared that," she said.

"No more than I you of this," John said as he looked around. He had to wonder if death was the better option than to suffer through visits every half day, every fortnight, as he watched her grow older.

"Don't talk like that. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you. And I will get you out of here," she said with a determined look.

"I wish I could be as sure as you," John said with a shake of his head as he took in his surroundings. Even with Anna sitting across from him he had never felt further from home.

"Anna? Love?" John said with a gentle shake off her shoulder. His voice pulled her from her thoughts.

She turned to face him but had still not answered him. Anna looked around to realize she was back on the train.

"Where were you just now? " he asked as a smile played on his lips.

"Somewhere I don't want to think of ever again," she answered back.

John's brow knit together in confusion.

"I'm just so glad to be with you again. To be here," Anna clarified as she pat his arm lovingly.

"Well you don't have to think of it again. We're home now," John said as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

Anna looked out the window to see the seaside town that they would call home as the train came to a slow. The possibilities seemed endless and her eyes lit up as she looked over at her husband. They shared a tender gaze and eventually John rose from his seat to help her. John was so excited her nearly left their car without his bag. It was Anna who noticed and picked it up with care, "You almost forgot this little beauty."

"I could never forget you," he teased with a boyish smile.

"Very funny, Mr. Bates."

John helped her down from the train as he took the satchel from her. "You know, now that we are making a fresh start of things. You might start calling me John in public."

"And where would be the fun in that?" she asked. They laughed easily as they embarked on their new life