Curses and Blessings

Summary: S4 spoilers. After many months of healing, Mr. and Mrs. Bates begin to make up for lost time.

Disclaimer: Downton Abbey isn't mine nor are these fine characters.

A/N: Takes place after season 4, probably around or before the time of the Christmas special. Reviews and feedback make my day.

Nine months. Nine months since that fateful night when their world turned upside down. Nine long, painful months of healing and talking and attempting to make plans even when the future seemed uncertain.

Bates entered the Abbey with such a spring in his step that he hardly used his cane at all. Hanging up his coat, he almost could not get it on the hook in his haste to get to the servants' hall. Anna had left the cottage before him that morning and he hoped to see her for a moment before breakfast.

He found her in the boot room putting a last sheen on Lady Mary's riding boots. Her eyes flitted up as she heard him enter, and an impish smile appeared on her face.

"Good morning, Mr. Bates," she said, her words formal but her tone teasing.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bates," he responded, unable to keep from grinning like a fool.

"You look well rested."

"Do I? How strange considering I got very little sleep last night."

Anna smirked saucily at his comment. "Is that a complaint?" she challenged.

"Far from it."

Nine months had passed since the night Anna was attacked, that horrible event they rarely referred to as anything other than "that night." While Bates never thought the process of his wife's recovery would be easy, he never expected it to be so fraught with setbacks of his own creation. Guilt accompanied him every day like an unwelcome stalker, descending on him at odd moments when he least expected it.

Sometimes he'd see his wife at dinner, laughing and talking with the other servants as freely as she had before. And then he would see her pause, a cloud moving across her features as though she were suddenly sad. In those moments, Bates could not help but wonder what she was thinking, what horrible memories she struggled to ignore.

The not knowing was the worst. For months, she'd flat-out refused to tell him more than the very basics. There was a struggle. She'd been struck and then overpowered and drug to the boot room. He'd seen her bruised face and split lip himself that night, although Bates could not imagine how she'd convinced him the injuries came from a simple fall.

He remembered at the time thinking it was strange for Anna to faint. Despite her delicateness, she was a sturdy woman and rarely succumbed to the various feminine ailments. Some part of him had hoped it was a symptom of pregnancy, that they might be expecting their first child despite going so long without conceiving.

Finding out later what had happened, he despised himself for having such a wish at that inappropriate time. Perhaps if he had been more observant and focused on his wife than on their inability to conceive, he would have noticed sooner what was wrong.

"You better not be brooding," Anna admonished him gently, bringing him back into the present.

"No, not brooding. Just thinking. About last night."

She blushed at his reference to their private evening, and Bates allowed himself to appreciate how young and carefree the reaction made her look. In many ways, the past months had aged them both more than he liked to admit. But Anna was still as beautiful as ever. And after the previous night together, he now knew that her fervor for him had not been extinguished.

With the family deciding to retire early, he and Anna had an unexpected evening to themselves and chose to spend their time having a private dinner at the cottage. Bates hadn't pushed for intimacy since that night, although they'd made a few attempts over the months. Usually Anna would only get so far before pulling away from him, her eyes full of tears as she mouthed apologies. And he always told her the same thing: he would wait until she was ready.

She'd once asked him what he would do if she was never ready. Without thought, Bates had answered her.

"I'll wait forever."

"I couldn't ask that of you."

"You wouldn't have to ask," he'd responded.

"Still, it seems so selfish..."

"Anna, you waited to be with me for years, without any guarantee I would ever be free to marry you. Now I will wait for you, gladly, gratefully. For as long as you need. Forever, if it comes to it."

Thankfully, Anna's unease had not lasted as long as forever.

After their dinner together at the cottage the night before, he'd been seated on a chair reading a book. She reached past him to get to something and he caught a whiff of her scent. He must have made an appreciative sound because she turned to look at him in amusement.

"What was that, Mr. Bates?" she teased.

"You smell nice," he told her truthfully.

She shrugged demurely and admitted, "Nothing but soap."

"Soap and you."

With a grin of wickedness, she pronounced, "You're very naughty tonight."

"Am I?" he said back, ready to drop the flirtation if she wished it, but thoroughly enjoying the interaction with his wife.

He didn't expect her to do what she did next. Without hesitation, she lowered herself onto his lap and leaned in to kiss him. The desire she awoke in him was both new and familiar. And for the first time in a very long time, she did not stop him as he kissed her back, thoroughly.

Once again interrupting his thoughts, Anna put aside Lady Mary's riding boots and reached out to take his hand. "We'll be late for breakfast."

They sat next to each other at the table, as they normally did, but this morning proved out of the typical. Instead of sitting primly and neatly in her own space, Bates noticed that his wife began to invade his own. She did nothing overt, but periodically, her shoulder would bump his, or her hand would brush against his hand as she reached for something. And under the table, he felt her foot seek out his. The teasing was not so much as to be considered wholly improper, but it proved so unusual a behavior for Anna that Bates found it enchanting.

The day continued in a similar vein with flirtatious conversations, casual touches, and alluring smiles. By the evening, Bates was quickly losing control of the desire he'd kept hold of so tightly for so long. Their amazing night together the previous evening coupled with her playful antics throughout the day were enough to make him feel like a teenage boy again. All he could think about was getting her alone just for a moment.

His chance came before the gong when he spotted her heading towards the servant's hall and stopped her, gently steering her into the boot room. Closing the door behind them, he immediately kissed her, giving her no time to protest. The behavior was uncharacteristically unprofessional of him, but he could barely control himself.

But a moment later, Anna stiffened in his arms. He noticed the change in her immediately and without even the briefest pause, he let her go and took a step back.

"I'm sorry, that was-" he began, but she interrupted him.

"Don't apologize. I just... not here, please? Anywhere but this room."

Turning around, realization dawned on Bates. This room was where it had happened. He knew that, intellectually, but they came in and out of the place so often that it had stopped bearing a negative connotation through simple regularity. He suddenly wondered how she could stand it, to have to be in this place so much, and why had he never considered this issue before?

"Of course. How thoughtless of me..."

His desire vanished as swiftly as though he'd been dunked in ice cold water, and his guilt reappeared just as fast. While he had ensured she'd never again be forced to face the horrible Mr. Green, nothing could ever make up for his failure to protect her in the first place.

"It's okay," she assured him, but he shook his head.

"No, it's not okay. I shouldn't have-"

Holding up a finger to silence him, Anna admonished, "Don't even finish that sentence, Mr. Bates. I won't hear another word. Now best you find us another empty room before dinner or I'll be forced to kiss you before the entire servants' hall and thoroughly scandalize Mr. Carson."

Her humor broke through the cloud of anger and frustration he felt over his mistake, and he nodded in acknowledgment of her intentions. Anna did not want to lose this moment between them just because of her reaction and imminently reasonable request. They'd both learned that what had happened to her was something they had to live with. Hiding from it or ignoring it did not help. But it did not have to rule their lives.

Unfortunately, the gong rang before Bates could find a more suitable location for their dalliance and they parted with disappointment.

They walked home to the cottage that evening arm-in-arm. Since their encounter in the boot room, Bates had been thinking about his wife and their future together. They often talked about buying and running a hotel when they left Downton, but that dream had long been premised on having children. Whatever dreams Bates still held for fatherhood had faded even before Anna's attack. As much as they'd enjoyed married life after his release from prison, month after month had gone by without a pregnancy.

While not having children was a small disappointment for him, Bates hated the thought that he'd deprived Anna of motherhood. After all, considering his age and the fact that he'd never had children with Vera, the fault was more likely to lie with him. Anna never talked about it, not really, although sometimes he saw her looking longingly at Master George when Nanny had the boy out.

"You seem preoccupied," Anna said as they entered the cottage and she took his coat.

"Just thinking about what a fool I was earlier," he said, the fib coming off his tongue smoothly. Unlike Anna, he had plenty of practice lying to his wife about his thoughts. There were some things he did not want her to know about him and his darker side.

She sighed at him. "Please don't trouble yourself over it. I shouldn't have said anything," she said.

He froze in place before turning to her. "Don't ever suggest that again. If I do something that upsets you or makes you uncomfortable, I want to know. I don't ever want to unknowingly hurt you."

Anna met his eyes rather than looking away as she responded, "You won't hurt me."

As if to emphasize her point, Anna stepped towards him. Moving slowly, she reached out a hand to take his - the one not leaned on his cane. She threaded her much small fingers between his as she leaned closer and pushed herself onto her tip-toes.

Bates leaned down to meet her kiss, taking care to steady himself on the cane. Even without his bad leg, Anna tended to leave him a bit unsteady on his feet when she kissed him. He let her take the lead, just as he'd been doing in the nine months since that night, without any hope or agenda for more than the feel of her lips against his.

Once she broke away, Anna flashed him a heady smile. "Would you mind terribly if we retired to bed early this evening?"

"I can think of nothing I'd like more."

The house sat still and dark around them as they lay in bed together a while later. Anna stayed wrapped in his arms, her head resting on his bare shoulder. The heat of his body seemed to seep into her very bones, warming her from the inside out.

"That's two nights in a row, Mrs. Bates," he teased her lightly. "I'm not a young man anymore."

"Two nights in nine months," she responded softly, her tone more somber.

"I hope you're not trying to make up for lost time," he scolded mildly.

"What if I am?"

Bates shifted slightly so he could better see his wife's face.

"As grateful as I am for the resumption of this aspect of our married life, I don't want you pushing yourself into it. I told you before, Anna, I can wait. This can wait."

Aware of how intimately they were still touching, skin on skin, Bates moved to separate himself from his wife.

But she stopped him, wrapping her arm around his body and hugging him to her. "I was tired of waiting. I was tired of having to fight these images that come into my mind. I want this, John. And I want new, good memories to replace the bad ones."

At least she was touching him again. Anna had worked for months to be at ease with his again. At first, even a hand on her shoulder would leave her terrified and fending off flashbacks. But gradually, over time, she grew more used to him. A touch of the hand became holding hands, and holding hands became him holding her.

The exercise proved especially difficult because of the professional distance they had to maintain at work. His only opportunities to help her work through her fear of him came at night, when they were alone in the dark cottage.

"Did it work?" he asked eventually.

"What?"

"Did we make some good memories?"

He saw her smile at the question.

"What do you think, Mr. Bates?" she challenged him.

"I think every moment with you is a blessing."

Even the hard moments. Even the ones when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night or when she snapped at him in frustration or started crying for no discernable reason.

Because for every difficult moment they'd endured, he had a dozen beautiful memories. Anna's smile. The way her hair framed her face when she pulled out the pins from her bun. The way she still called him "Mr. Bates" occasionally, her voice making it sound as intimate as his Christian name.

"Was it... as good as before?" she asked, suddenly tentative.

Confused, he almost asked her what she meant, but stopped himself as he realized where her mind was gone. The night before, their first time together since that night, was awkward and spontaneous and joyful. They'd kissed for the pure enjoyment of the act, and when Anna encouraged him to go further, things progressed much as they had when they were newly married.

But this night, their second time, proved far more sensual and seductive. Anna's teasing of him throughout the day began a pressure building within him, and when she'd suggested retiring early, he did not hesitate.

Bates wanted to tell her that every time together was perfect, just as every moment with her was the fulfillment of a dream. But she would discount the answer, he knew, even if it was the truth. When they'd met, he never allowed himself to even hope for a future with her. Even when Anna had offered to be with him while he was still married to Vera, to live in sin, he had pushed away the possibility as unworthy of her honor.

"As good as or better," he said finally. "What did you think?"

She seemed pensive and hesitant to respond.

"Anna?" he prompted.

"Could you... could you tell?" Anna asked.

The way they were positioned, with her head resting on his chest, he could only see her face in profile. She looked more timid than nervous, as though she needed reassurance about this part of their relationship.

"You mean physically? No, I couldn't tell."

He hated that she'd never seen a doctor after that night. But every time he mentioned it, she'd brushed away his concern with a stern "I'm fine." Now he wished he'd been more insistent about it, if she worried there was some lasting damage.

"That's good."

She lapsed into silence then, and he let her do so. Sometimes she just needed to be quiet, even when they were together. Bates let him focus on the feel of her nestled warm against him, the scent of her, and the way the long strands of her blonde hair tickled his skin.

Bates enjoyed the intimacy with his wife, but he was old enough to know that physicality was only one part of marriage. When faced with the possibility of giving it up entirely, he regretted losing such a sweet pleasure, but he loved Anna for much more than her body. And he'd be a liar if he didn't admit his physical attraction to her, still as undeniable as the day they'd met. But just getting to hold her, to touch her, was a pleasure he hoped never to take for granted.

"What are you thinking?" he asked finally, after a time had passed and Bates could tell she had not yet fallen asleep.

"I was thinking about how much I love you and our life together."

"What else?" he asked, knowing there was more.

Anna did not answer immediately, and as she did, her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I was thinking that I want us to have a child together. I know we tried before..."

They had tried before, in the way all married couples might. But nothing had come of it.

"We can try again," Bates said. If nothing came of it, there was still the enjoyment of each other.

"You should know... after what happened... after that night, I worried I might be..."

With child. Bates could still hear the relief in Mrs. Hughes' voice as he overheard her pronounce that there would be no baby. At the time, he hadn't understood, had been hurt by Anna's seeming distaste at the idea of having a child with him. Once he found out what had happened, he shared in the general relief at her childless state.

Anna went on, "I prayed I wasn't pregnant. I prayed so hard, John. I wanted a baby with you, but I couldn't do it knowing it might be his."

"I understand-"

She pulled away from him slightly, enough to push herself onto her elbow so she could look at his face.

"But what if I prayed too hard? What if I've cursed us?"

"Anna, you haven't cursed us," he assured her. "I think God understands the circumstances."

She nodded, seeming to accept his words.

"I went to see Mrs. Crawley the other day. I asked her if she thought what he did... if it might have made me unable to conceive."

The possibility hadn't even occurred to Bates. But now that Anna mentioned it, concern rushed through him. He knew he should have made her see Dr. Clarkson. He hadn't wanted to traumatize her further, but what if there was damage to her?

"She didn't think... I had to tell her what happened," Anna said, taking a breath. "But she didn't think it would keep me from having a baby, if nothing else is wrong."

His relief was almost physical but his concern for her remained. "You should have told me you were worried about it. I could have gone with you to see her."

Shaking her head, Anna said, "It was easier to go alone. I hated having to tell her, but she was very sympathetic."

Few people knew of what had occurred that night. Besides himself and Anna, the number only extended to Mrs. Hughes and Lady Mary. If the housekeeper had shared the information with Mr. Carson, which he found very possible, the butler gave no indication of it. Beyond them, Mrs. Baxter treated Anna with extra kindness, and he believed that Thomas suspected something. And now Mrs. Crawley.

"What happened was no reflection on you, darling. You did nothing wrong."

The words came naturally now, he'd said them so often. The first few times he'd said them, she'd argued with him. She'd insisted that she must have done something and even insinuated that she'd deserved it somehow. But he kept telling her she was not at fault, that she'd done nothing wrong. Gradually the sentiment began to sink in for her, his assurances like a gentle stream wearing down the edges of a stone with unending persistence.

"I know," Anna answered. "I just don't want people to look at me differently."

"They don't. Mrs. Hughes treats you the same as always. And Lady Mary still relies on you for everything."

Not meeting his eyes, she asked, "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you see me the way you did before? Now that we've..."

She trailed off, but he knew she meant, "Now that we've been together again."

Knowing that no communication consisting of words would suffice to answer her question, Bates boldly took action. Cupping the back of her head with one hand, he pulled her lips to his for a kiss. He let his mouth linger with hers, continuing the conversation with silent sensuality.

Without pausing for breath, he shifted his body to the side so that she moved onto her back and he lay half atop of her. He was too heavy for her to take all of his weight on her thin frame, and he did not want her to feel trapped. But he made no effort to curb his desire for her as he made love to his wife once more.

Six weeks later...

"What did Doctor Clarkson say?"

She was barely in the door and was still hanging up her coat as he approached her. After battling a stomach bug for the last week which kept her rushing to the bathroom, he'd finally insisted on her going to the clinic to be checked out.

Anna smiled at his obvious worry. "He said I'm fine," she told him.

"But what about you being sick so much?"

Her grin remained, although he had no idea why his concern for his wife might be so amusing.

"He said that's natural... for someone in my condition."

"Your condition...?"

The pieces began to fit together in his mind, but with agonizing slowness. Anna's nausea and sickness had persisted despite rest and nurturing, and she'd even admitted to feeling dizzy a few times. And yet, she was standing there smiling at him as though whatever the doctor had told her was the most joyful news in the world...

When the last piece clicked into place, Bates broke into a wide grin of his own. "Oh, Anna, my darling!" he exclaimed, pulling her to him in a tight embrace.

Laughing at his exuberance, she asked, "I take it you're happy, then?"

"So very happy."

"We shouldn't tell anyone yet. Not for a while at least, in case anything happens."

He nodded at the wisdom of her suggestion but said, "You must tell Mrs. Hughes. She'll have to adjust your workload so you aren't doing too much."

"I can still work," she protested. "I won't even be showing for a few more months."

Bates already knew that he was going to worry about her during the entire pregnancy, that he would annoy her with his hovering and insistence that she take it easy. But none of that mattered. They were going to have a child, at long last.

"I love you," he told her, "so very much."

"And I love you."

He kissed her, not bothering to look around and see if anyone was watching. A moment later, he heard a noise, like someone clearing their throat behind them, and Bates broke away from his wife. Turning, they saw Mr. Carson standing outside the servant's hall watching them with uncomfortable disapproval.

"We can celebrate later," Anna offered quietly.

"Yes, of course."

Taking her coat from her, Bates hung it on a hook and then followed behind her into the servant's hall for breakfast. As he walked a step behind her, Bates realized that his entire world existed in the woman in front of him. Not only was she his wife and the undisputed love of his life, she was carrying his child. Their child.

He'd never felt more blessed.