I. Familial
She is nothing to him and then she is something. It happens in a matter of moments when they are discovered at the inn. Lady Mary eye's him with a look of pure hatred. She turns her nose up at him as she and Lady Edith persuade Sybil to head back to Downton. Her gloved hands grip Sybil's upper arm as she is lead away. Lady Edith gives him a quick glance; her eyebrows narrowed as if he is a traitor. Lady Mary stares at him and Tom finds it hard to imagine that Mr. Crawley sees something warming and beautiful in her.
"Goodbye, Lady Mary," he says.
She blinks, before her face becomes unreadable as she swiftly exits. She has no desire to occupy the same space as him; that is quite clear.
When he is left alone, he allows himself to crumble. Sybil is the only good thing about England and he must have her. He relishes hearing her speak her true mind, the way her blue eyes light up. He slams his hand against the bed post. He will not allow her aristocratic family to push him out. Their love is stronger than that. And damn Lady Mary if she is to try.
/
Sybil flutters around as she praises her older sisters. Edith is quite bright, so she says. Mary is kind beyond belief. Tom laughs at that, but stops as Sybil's eyes briefly lose their brightness.
"Please try, for my sake."
"Did you ask your sister to try?"
"But of course they will! They wish for my happiness above all else."
Tom bites back another laugh. Her parents are not attending the wedding. Lord Grantham made it clear that Tom could never be family or anything close. Tom cannot help but think the same. He has heard whispers from the family when they act as if he is not there. He sees the way they eye some people. And of course, there's the talk from the rest of the servants. He cannot help but be tense at the news that Lady Mary and Lady Edith intend to attend the wedding.
When they meet up prior to the event, Sybil flies into their arms. She is a glowing bride as she rattles on about Tom and their plans afterwards.
"Lady Edith," Tom says. The blonde turns to him, her brown eyes bore into his. He taught her how to drive. She would sit at the wheel and there was little conversation between them. She stares at him like he is a new specimen, but he refuses to let his eyes wander away.
"Mr. Branson," she says finally. He cannot help but blink at the addressment. He has never been a "mister" in their eyes. That would put him almost equal to Mr. Crawley! His attention is brought back as Edith holds out a gloved hand. It is clear the material is far more expensive than anything he owns or anything he can provide Sybil. A moment of insecurity passes through him before he grips her hand. Perhaps it's a bit too hard as she wiggles her fingers when he releases her. They are not men in a pub, he reminds himself.
He knows he must address her next. Was it rude that he did not acknowledge her fist since she is eldest? The thought makes him giddy as he meets her level gaze. She stares at him wordlessly. There is no longer a smile on her face as she wears her aristocratic mask.
"Lady Mary."
"Branson."
His jaw tenses and seeing this, the corners of her mouth turn up for a second. He waits for her to extend her hand, but she doesn't. She had expressed that she does not see him as equal.
"Well, let's catch up. There is much I have to say about tomorrow. It will be a happy occasion," Sybil says.
His eyes travel back to his fiancée and he pulls her close. Lady Edith raises her eyebrows and pretends not to see. Lady Mary now has a clear frown on her face. It is improper, he knows, and that makes him smile more.
"Yes, of course, Sybil," he replies.
He can feel her sister's nose wrinkling in disgust. Good. Lady Mary and her lifestyle disgust him as well.
/
Sybil practically runs into the kitchen, a letter clutched in her hand. Tom raises her eyebrows as she continues to shake.
"Mary's getting married!"
Tom raises his eyebrows. Lady Mary is going to wed? He pictures her next to a tall, aristocratic pompous. Nodding, he can now picture her a wife.
"Did you hear me? Mary is marrying Cousin Matthew. Oh I am sure the house is mad with excitement. I wish I could see their faces. She has waited so long for this, only to be tried again and again. But now it's happening and it is perfection in the eyes of Mama. And Papa also, I'm sure."
Sybil scans the letter again, her smile continuing to grow. Tom sighs. With his job and income, they cannot travel to Downton. Impossible. "Sybil, darling…"
"I know we don't have the money, Tom. But I am still excited and I want to keep up with the news. It will be beautiful and I—I want to hear about it."
"I'm sorry," he replies. He isn't sorry about missing Lady Mary. He could go his whole life without witnessing her in a white gown, headed down the aisle. But Sybil wants it and so that makes him sorry.
"Do not apologize," Sybil says. Her hand cups his cheek and all thoughts of Mary and Mr. Crawley are gone.
/
They were sent money and somehow they arrive back in England. It was not his desire to be here, but Sybil was ecstatic.
"Can you believe Papa did such a thing?"
No, he could not. Lord Grantham had looked at him the same way his eldest daughter did, with contempt. Lord Grantham had made it clear at Miss Swire's funeral that he wished for Tom to disappear off the Earth. Even with all Lady Grantham's power, it seemed unlikely they sent the money.
Soon enough they pulled up to Downton and the entire family and servants were lined up. Sybil felt at home whereas Tom felt he was a prisoner being turned over.
Hugs were given and Lady Grantham gave him a smile that looked forced and too stretched. However, she was trying and that was an improvement.
He found himself stuck chatting with the Crawley family as they sipped tea with their eyes trained of him. Tom found Matthew pleasant though as he tried to make him feel comfortable.
"We are family and I know quite well how it feels to be on the outside."
Tom shrugged. "Thank you."
"They are good people though. And Mary, well her bark is worse than her bite."
Tom eyes the woman sitting across from him. She's chatting with her grandmother, but she glances over every so often, eyes narrowed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Matthew patted him on the shoulder as he rose to speak to Lord Grantham. They talk in a content manner. Feelings of resentment built up in Tom. Lord Grantham spoke as if Matthew was his own son. Matthew was viewed as a god of sorts in the household. Tom, however, was ever the pariah. The words "son-in-law" never crossed Lord Grantham's mind when it came to Tom.
Tom does not let his feelings build up in fear that it will upset Sybil. The days continue and Tom wonders what else these people do with themselves.
It is one night when they are entertaining the Greys and Sir Strallan that Tom finds out. He is the victim of a prank by Larry Grey who had a soft spot for Sybil. Tom wants to settle the matter in the dirt, fist to fist. However, these men have class and instead are just shown the door.
"Tom is my best man," Matthew announces.
Sybil is bursting with joy and Tom leans against her for support. He wants Ireland. He wants home.
But then Mary is standing, her eyes glowing as she beams at Matthew. It is the first time Tom sees her with a look of pure happiness. He is caught off guard and leans into Sybil more. He knows Mary is happy with Matthew's kindness and does not give a damn about what Tom does. Tom smiles slightly as he is carted off. He does not know what to make of the Crawleys.
/
She floats down the aisle and Tom is surprised she is not the bloody queen. She is smiling, her arm intertwined with her father's, as she walks to Matthew. Tom knows he will remember this moment. The moment he realized Mary Crawley's heart was not cold and empty.
They whisper to each other and soon enough they are husband and wife. The future Earl and Countess of Grantham.
"Was that not beautiful?" asks Sybil. They are back at Downton mingling with people who have owned more since their birth than Tom will ever have.
"I preferred ours."
Sybil laughs, clutching his arm tighter. She nods and presses her lips to his. As long as he has her, his world is complete. Their love will outlast everything.
They find the couple once more before they are gone.
"I am so happy you are now my brother. I knew it since the moment we met you," says Sybil, her arms wrapped around Matthew. She pulls away to grin at him. "And you have made Mary the happiest I have ever seen her."
"Thank you for allowing me to play a part," says Tom. He thinks back to the drinks they shared as Matthew pats him.
"We are family. I mean it, we can go to each other."
Tom smiles. "I do appreciate that."
Then he is in front of Lady Mary. Her cheeks are pink as she looks at him. He has never seen her so radiant and it almost scares him.
"Congratulations, Lady Mary."
For a moment he thinks she will simply stare at him. A small smile forms as she says, "Thank you."
And then it's gone so fast that he almost wonders if he dreamt it. He realizes he has nothing more to say and stumbles over words as he exits. She watches him with what almost looks like amusement.
/
"Sybil, I'm so sorry, love."
"Yes. Now go. Go!"
He dashes out with a fear in his heart that he is saying goodbye to Ireland. Tom takes off after a last glance at Sybil and her swollen belly. They discussed where to go. Home, Sybil said. To Downton.
/
He hears her screams and pulls again at his hair. He is downstairs with Matthew sitting there useless as two—
Lady Mary enters, a rare grin on her face. And everything is fine. They are fine.
Tom rushes to his wife's side as she cradles the baby. It's a girl. It's the beginning of their family.
"I love you," says Tom as he is ushered out.
Sybil smiles. "And I love you."
He receives more congratulations and the family is now acting like a family. He thanks them and shuffles to bed, lost in thought.
It is her screams that bring him back to the room. They are all gathered around her bed and the posh doctor says there is nothing to be done.
He is aware of his own screams as he begs Sybil to stay. Lady Grantham is next to him, her cries just as loud.
Sybil struggles for air and then, she stops. Wails fill the room and he grips the sheets. What does he do without her? What does their baby do?
Selfishly he cries at the thought he is left alone with her snobbish parents and sisters, with only a brother-in-law for comfort. He hears the soft cries from Mary and Edith as they stare at their younger sister.
"How can this be?" asks Lord Grantham.
Tom presses his face into the bed sheets. His darling is gone. He is alone.
/
It seems that even the funerals require lavish designs. Lady Grantham and her daughters were black satin with gloves that cover their arms. Their faces are partially hidden by obtrusive hats. The staff wears black armbands, even at Crawley house.
Matthew is there, his blue eyes downcast as he offers to help Tom with the baby. He does not want help though. He wants Sybil.
The funeral itself is horrid as more people show up, black hats with tiny beading covering their faces as they dab under their eyes. No one is sobbing, not even Lady Grantham. She struggles to keep a straight face and soon enough Lady Mary has taken her place in thanking people for making the journey out.
Bile rises in Tom's throat as these people, most of whom Sybil never mentioned, act as if they knew her best. Some wander to him with falsities like "wish we could have had dinner" or "please come to us for nanny references". They all eye him though as if he is an animal on a leash. Tugging at his collar he makes his way back to Matthew.
Tom stops though as he sees the man cradling his wife. Lady Mary's head rests against his chest as she whispers something. It is painful to watch, them both so in love and so alive.
He settles for Lady Edith who has joined the masses in dabbing gently under her lashes. She startles as he appears next to her.
"Oh, Mr. Branson. How are you fairing?"
It's a silly question and she must know it as her cheeks turn rosy.
"I would like this part to end."
"Well, it seems that wish is granted." She glances about as people trail back to where they came from. Tom is quite sure he will never see two thirds of them ever again. "You know, Sybil always believed in the good of a person. She adored Mary and I because she was certain there was goodness in both of us. I do wonder about that."
Tom raises his head to meet her eyes. It is the first intimate thing Edith has shared. Their conversations never went far beyond the weather. He sees Lady Grantham who leans against Lord Grantham as her body shakes from crying. Lady Mary is still wrapped in Matthew's arms. The Dowager and Mrs. Crawley converse with strained looks on their faces. His body shakes.
"I wonder also, Lady Edith."
Okay so I'm not sure about this title? I actually finished this chapter earlier but didn't post because I was agonizing over the title. Thoughts? Also, I want to make this clear from the beginning: this is a three shot. Does that term exist? Anyways...there will only be three chapters. I often guestimate, but with this I'm certain. Anyways, thank you for reading. I know it has been several months. I'm balancing many things and as much as I would like to put writing first, I can't. I hope you enjoyed this first part.
Also, for the first time I'm writing everything from Tom's view. With Brary fics, I tend to find more comfort writing Mary. I'm not sure why because I adore Tom; this is a new challenge though and I hope it paid off. After this fic, I'm not sure what is next. No matter what though, Brary will always be important to me. I hope that many of you will take on the challenge of writing your own stories. This fandom is filled with good writers! And I've pretty much read every single Brary fic. Stay tuned.
Leave a review. Please. Also, follow me on tumblr: mrsmarybranson
Also, I made a Hamilton reference somewhere… as you know if you follow me on social media, I love Hamilton.