Author's Note: Story takes place after Season 3 Christmas Special but before Season 4. I really like Thomas and Daisy as friends so I wrote another story about them. I don't own Downton Abbey or any characters. Please read and review!

Someone To Carry You Home

"Come on Daisy, it's just one night. We'll get a drink with Ivy and Alfred and just relax,"

The assistant cook continued flattening the dough, her hands white from the flour.

"It's just because all of the recent late nights cooking and catering. Mr. Carson's already agreed to it,"

She put her hands on her hips while walking around from behind the giant counter.

"All right then. Just stop bugging me,"

Jimmy smirked, straightened out his jacket and walked out. Daisy wasn't one to ignore positive attention from any young man but Jimmy, Jimmy was different. He was, well, he was cruel in her eyes. He very nearly got Mr. Barrow fired and only after a year and a good beating he started warming up to the older man. Plus Jimmy was always playing games, flirting with the closest thing with legs, man or woman. Ivy might be smitten with him but she still favored Alfred. And then there was the drinking aspect. She had witnessed Thomas stealing wine, had been around drunk men when she was younger and neither were very appealing. So that was why Daisy didn't want to go out, however when Mrs. Patmore asked why, she hesitated and found it much easier to continue kneading the dough and merely said she was tired.

That night was exactly as she expected it to be, boring yet out of control. Jimmy was drinking himself into a stupor. Alfred kept trying to get Ivy to dance and Ivy was busy following Jimmy. She yawned loudly.

"Ivy, Alfred, let's go. I'm tired,"

Alfred pulled his arm away from Daisy and Ivy ran off, following Jimmy's blond head amongst the crowd. Daisy sighed, stood up, and left. The music from the pub faded behind her like the snow melting in the sun. Although it was dark outside she didn't trip, treading the path easily.

"I don't care about them anyways. Let them get drunk. See if I care,"

She heard footsteps behind her and for a minute she thought it was William. Her own William, the soldier carrying a torch for her heart. It was times like these when she could still hear his wheezing cough during his final days, or maybe it was just the wind howling. She could still smell the horse scent on his downstairs coat from the time spent in the stables after dinner. She glanced at the trees and their shadows thinking of the countryside, thinking back to that one time William taught her how to ride a horse. It had been his birthday and his Lordship was more than happy to allow William a ride on one of their horses. He looked so tall sitting on top of the saddle.

"Come now Daisy, you may never get another chance,"

She shook her head, a smile creeping on her face. Against her better judgment she took his outstretched hand and he pulled her up into the saddle behind him. He drew her hands around his waist.

"Ready?"

She felt her heart nearly thump out of her chest. She glanced down at the ground and hugged him tighter. He took off, the hooves of the horse beating into the ground. Each trot sent the butterflies in her stomach fluttering. She looked behind her, the Abbey growing smaller. The trees passed by overhead, the passing wind carding through his hair. It seemed like only a second had passed before they were back at the house again. He slid off first, and then took her by the waist and lifted her down. The blood rushed to her face as he held her even after her feet touched the ground. And then Mr. Carson called William away and their little spell was broken.

She felt hands grab her around the waist the same way he did. But they weren't Will's, as much as she wished it. The man slammed her against a tree as she cried out. She didn't recognize his face. He must've followed her back from the pub. She screamed again and he punched her in the face. Then she started crying, not because it hurt, not because some strange man was forcing himself upon her but because William had never gotten the chance to have her. After they were married he died, with barely enough strength to slide the ring on her finger. His hand traveled up her thigh as his hands clamped down. She cried silently, the hot tears coursed down her face with only the stars as witnesses.

"S-stop, please"

He pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue penetrating down her throat. She gagged against him and then he was thrust off of her.

"Oy, what you think you're doing?"

She sagged against the dead leaves, her dress dirtied by the mud. She knew that voice, it was the same one that had fought with William dozens of times. She heard the hard sounds of fists hitting flesh and of heavy, rapid, breathing. One of the men started running off and she felt her stomach drop. For a second that lasted an hour too long she thought Mr. Barrow ran off. And then his soft voice and tobacco scent filled the night air.

"Daisy? Are you okay?"

She looked up at him, her bruised face shinning in the moonlight. Thomas laid his jacket on her shoulders. He picked her up like a groom would his bride, one arm under her knees and his other arm cradling her back. Instinctively her arms reached around his neck, his wool coat still warm. She tucked her face against his chest, the starchy fabric rough against her skin. He ran with her and busted in downstairs. Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes, and the Bates' were still seated around the servant's table. They stood up when he came in.

"Daisy's been attacked! We need to call Dr. Clarkson,"

He put her on the offered seat but she wouldn't let go. He took her arms in his own and kissed her forehead before she started crying again. She didn't sob though; she clamped her mouth shut as the tears dripped off her chin.

"No, please don't call Dr. Clarkson. He's probably asleep,"

She said, her hands wringing the hem of the coat. Mr. Carson looked sad and confused. Mrs. Hughes put her hands on Daisy's shoulders. Anna kneeled in front of Daisy.

"Thomas took care of him before anything could happen. He just-"

She clutched Thomas' coat tighter to her shoulders.

"He just touched me a little, that's all"

She felt a cold washcloth against her bruised cheek. Mrs. Hughes wiped her face clean of the dirt.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

She nodded once before sniffling and standing up. The excitement from the night drained her energy and she found herself collapsing until Thomas was there again, this time offering her his arm. For the second time that night found herself holding onto Thomas. He walked her inside of her room, the air colder than outside. He led her to the bed while he got out her nightgown.

"Take off your dress,"

"But Mrs. Hughes-"

"Will not mind me helping you tonight,"

She fumbled with the buttons until the under butler came over and undid them for her.

"Sure you don't want Dr. Clarkson to take a look?"

She shook her head. He pulled her up and slid the dress down so it pooled around her ankles. She turned around as he pulled at the strings to her corset. She breathed a sigh of relief as it loosened and fell to the floor. He nodded his head upwards and she lifted her arms up. He slipped the nightgown over her head. She fell into him, her hair slipping around her face. He held her by the elbows. She needed to remember the old times, needed to feel like she wasn't the only one who remembered William. She sat down on the bed, the mattress creaking beneath her weight.

"Why are you being so nice to me, is it because of William?"

He stood in the doorway, his hand on the light switch.

"I don't have to explain myself to a kitchen maid,"

She snuggled under the blankets as he flipped the night switch.

"Thomas?"

"What now?"

She heard annoyance in his voice. Yet he hadn't once corrected her for using his first name.

"Just, thank you,"

"Honestly Daisy, sometimes you can be so daft"

He stayed a minute longer, watching as the girl sighed and fell asleep before closing the door.