A/N: This is just a short one-shot that popped in my head and wouldn't let go until I got it out. This is also my very first fanfic, so please be gentle. Any comments/critiques are welcome!
"Papa, come play with me!" The little cry rang out across the little yard behind the Bates' cottage. Smiling, John looked at his daughter. Six year old Emily was a bundle of energy, always running and playing. He looked at the boy in his arms.
"Well, son, what do you think? Should we go see what Emmy wants to play today?" Two year old Joseph babbled happily, pointing at his sister. John chuckled and limped carefully into the yard, careful not to trip with his son in his arms.
"Come on Papa," Emily urged again, "Let's play ball!"
John suppressed a groan. His daughter always wanted to play the most exuberant games. He could hardly keep up, what with his leg and, to his chagrin, his age. But he tried his best, because nothing made him happier than the smile on his children's faces. Sometimes he would just stop and stare at them as they played, wondering how he could have been so blessed to have them.
He gently lowered Joseph to the ground to play under a tree with his toy train, a gift from his lordship. The boy immediately settled and began pushing the train on the ground, around rocks and acorns, making the small choo-choo sounds Anna had taught him. Ruffling the boy's hair gently, he straightened and made his way to Emily. She was standing, ball in one hand, the other hand planted on her hip in a fairly good impression of her mother.
"All right, Angel, I'm ready. Let's play."
Emily and he tossed the ball for several minutes. But Emily's six year old poor aim meant he was chasing her erratic throws more than catching him. After about twenty minutes, his leg was screaming at him for the exercise. Limping to the little bench in the yard, John held up his hand.
"Just a minute, Angel, Papa's got to rest for a minute." He said, panting and gritting his teeth at the pain in his leg.
"Aww, Papa, you're no fun. It's better when Mummy plays with us. She doesn't get tired, and she doesn't need that old stick." Emily pouted, crossing her arms.
John's heart sank at his daughter's words. He never thought she'd realized his cane was an impediment. He gave a weak smile, "I know dearest, but I'll be better in a moment."
Emily gave a sigh and kicked the ball away, "Never mind Papa, I'll go play with Joseph. I don't want to play with you anymore."
John felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. But before he could reply, the back door flew open.
"Emily Marie Bates! Come here this instant!" John turned around to see Anna standing in the back doorway, hands on her hips. She'd been in the kitchen, baking bread, and heard every word through the open kitchen window. Emily slowly trudged to her mother, shamefaced. Anna motioned her inside.
"Anna, it's alright, honestly," John said quietly, "She's just a child—"
Anna shot him a warning look, and shook her head. "Go check on Joseph." Then she shut the door.
Anna turned to her daughter, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands deep in her pinafore pockets, a rueful look on her face. Anna sighed deeply and took Emily into the parlor, where they sat on the sofa.
"Emily, do you know why I brought you in here?" Anna began.
Emily bit her lip, "I was rude to Papa?" she hesitated.
"Yes, Emily, you were. You hurt his feelings very much. Why would you say such a thing to him?"
"Papa can't ever play long with us. He always has to sit down. Does he get bored of us?" Emily replied. Anna closed her eyes for a moment.
"No Emily, your father loves playing with you and brother very much. Papa has to sit down because his leg was hurt a long time ago." Emily gave her a questioning look, so Anna scooted closer to put her arm around her daughter as she elaborated, "He was in a war in Africa. He fought alongside Lord Grantham, and he was very brave. He saved his lordships life by protecting him from a blast. It hurt his leg very badly, and now he can't stand or walk on it for very long or it hurts him terribly." Anna explained gently. When she finished, she tried to gauge how much Emily understood from the slightly shocked awed look on her face.
"Papa was in a war?" she asked meekly, "Why didn't he just run away?" Anna smiled and shook her head. "Because your papa is very brave. He knew that running away wouldn't be right. There were people that were counting on him. Just like we count on him now. Think of how long Papa works during the day, all day long walking on his leg."
"You mean it hurts Papa just to walk?" Emily asked, her eyes widening in shock.
"Yes, dear, sometimes it does. Now how would you feel if you hurt your leg, and Papa and I were impatient with you when you had to walk slowly because it hurt you all the time? What if I called you boring and said I didn't want to play with you because you had to use a cane to walk?"
Emily paled a little and tears started in her eyes. "That would hurt my feelings very much, Mummy."
Anna nodded, "Yes, it would. Now do you know what you should do?" Emily nodded.
John was still sitting on the bench outside. He was watching Joseph play quietly, but he couldn't bring himself to smile. After all his hard work to do everything for his children and his wife, he still wasn't good enough. His old fears that had terrorized him when Anna first announced she was pregnant with Emily came back full force. The long months leading up to her birth had been plagued with uncertainties. Of course he had been overjoyed at the news, but then the floodgate had opened. Would Anna be alright, with her constant weariness and nausea? Would the baby be healthy? So many things could go wrong with the birth, he knew. He had no idea how to be a father, and now there was to be this little human being that was completely and solely dependent on him. His nightmares had been filled with the many ways he would ruin it. He'd often woken in a cold sweat, so sure the world was falling around him. How could he be anything but a disappointment to them? How could he guide this perfect child when his own past was littered with such ruin? Admittedly he was often jealous of the innate ability Anna seemed to have with the children. She had encouraged him constantly, before and after their children were born, trying to ease his worry. But now he knew he had failed his daughter, with his damned leg that he'd sworn wouldn't be a bother to anyone but him.
"Papa?" a soft voice broke is reverie. John looked up to see Emily standing before him, unshed tears bright in her eyes.
"Yes, Angel?" he asked gently. Emily's face crumpled at his tone, and she flew into his arms.
"I'm sorry Papa, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed. John wrapped his arms around her tightly, stroking her hair and murmured soothing words.
"It's alright, sweetie, I know you didn't mean it. I love you so much." He said, emotion choking his voice.
"Mummy to-told me you were hurt saving Lord Grantham's l-life." She hiccupped. "You're a hero, Papa. I'm sorry I didn't know your leg hurt you so much."
John's heart swelled with joy when he heard his beloved daughter call him a hero. He kissed her gently on top of her head and eased her back so he could look in her eyes. He took out his handkerchief and dried her eyes, "Here, love, blow your nose, " he instructed.
"Are you mad at me, Papa?" Emily asked quietly.
John shook his head and smiled, "Never, my angel, I love you. Now, shush, never mind what happened earlier. But you see why Papa has to sit sometimes, right?" Emily nodded and promised she would be careful to remember his leg more often. When she had kissed him on the cheek and scampered off to play with Joseph, John stood and limped into the kitchen where Anna was sliding the pan of bread into the oven. He came up behind her as she straightened, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I'm afraid our daughter may think my role in the war was a bit grander than what's true." He remarked after a moment, "I wonder why that is?"
Anna turned in his arms and smiled, "I'll not have anyone disparaging my husband's abilities, not even our children. And I told her nothing but the truth, that you were injured saving his lordship in battle. That does make you a hero, my love."
"So does that make you my champion?" he teased
"Silly beggar, I'll always be your champion. You've always been my hero." She replied. John leaned down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. They parted and stayed in each other's arms, watching their children play through the kitchen window.
Maybe, John thought, maybe it's not so bad to be thought a hero, when he had such a wonderful woman as Anna for his champion.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I know it's not very good, especially compared to the other lovely Downton Abbey fics here, but I had to give it a shot at least once. xD