Peace

Tom took Sybil's wedding ring out of his pocket and squeezed it in his hand as he felt a fresh wave of tears coming on. He thought the pain of the rim of the ring biting into his palm and fingers would keep the tears at bay as he watched the car containing his beloved wife's body drive away. The ring turned out to be too small compared to his hand to cause much pain, but it gave him something else to think about.

Tom had decided to keep her ring when the men had first arrived and it had seemed as if a clock had started ticking in his head, counting down until they would take her away. His mind had become overwhelmed, trying to think of anything he needed or wanted to do before they got there, but all he kept seeing was flashes of memories, both good and bad.

One of those memories was their wedding. Tom had taken her hand in his. He hated how cold it was. He had looked at the gold band on her fourth finger and thought about keeping it for himself. Would she have wanted him to leave it on her though? Sybil did like to play with it and twist it around her finger. He tried to imagine what she would have said. When the men knocked on the door and time had run out, he kissed her hand and then slid the ring off.

Once the car disappeared into the distance, Robert turned to his own wife, "Cora—"

"Tom," Cora cut across him, "would you accompany me to the nursery?" She turned her back against her husband and took the arm of the man who was once their chauffeur. Tom merely nodded at her before leading her inside.

Matthew, Mary, and Edith followed them into the house, leaving Robert alone outside with Carson. Robert let out a sigh before finally heading back in. He heard Mary and Edith informing their brother-in-law and mother that they would be in their rooms if they needed them as he headed straight for the library and his brandy.

The sky had already begun to darken by the time Robert left the library. When he reached the top of the stairs, he heard a door close. Then, as he started walking down the hallway, he saw a figure approaching from the other end. Branson.

Robert had just spent the entire time in the library thinking about how everything had gone wrong since the Irishman had decided to apply for a job here, how the whole house would not be in mourning if that man had never entered their lives, and there he was, still living and still here.

Robert started to clap. "Well done. Well done." He stopped once Branson came to a half in front of him. "I hope you're happy now."

The young widower just stared at the floor.

Robert continued. "You must really hate our kind in order to go through all this. Get a job here, seduce one of the daughters, and then marry into the family just so you could take us down from the inside." He took a step closer. "Tell me, was it easy, did you have fun luring her into your trap? Tell me!"

Tom flinched but kept his head down. His only response was a soft, "I loved her."

Tom heard the Earl of Grantham yell as he was roughly pushed against the wall. His arms were pinned down, but it was pointless. Tom had never been known to be the first person to throw a punch and now, well, he cared very little for defending the life he had now.

Tom looked up into his father-in-law's eyes. They were wild with hatred. "I'm sorry."

Robert released one of Tom's arms and spit out, "This is all your fault!" before punching him in the face.

Tom closed his eyes at the pain in his jaw and the back of his head from hitting against the wall. "I know. Please."

Robert threw another punch. "All I asked you to do was drive! Why did you have to take her away from me!"

Robert turned at the sound of a voice, "Papa? Papa is that you?"

"What is going on?" asked another voice, a male one. Mary and Matthew were coming to see what all the commotion was.

"If I had known this would happen, I would have left her alone." He turned back to Branson, whose face was red and had a line of blood coming from the corner of his lip.

"I loved h—" Lord Grantham's final punch knocked Tom to the floor. Something small dropped out of his hand as he fell.

"Tom! Papa, what are you doing!"

Through blurry vision, Tom saw Matthew pushing Lord Grantham away and then Mary leaning over him before everything went black.

A/N

1. I have not written any fanfic in a long time, and I know I am very rusty, so critique is welcome, especially since there will be a second part to this and I am working on other, (more cheerful) stories!

2. I wanted to return to fanfic starting with this one since this chapter is a bit dark and I wanted to sort of get it out of the way. I just wanted to have this kind of reaction between Tom and Robert after Sybil's death because I was really disappointed with how all of Robert's pent up aggression and the tension between them pretty much dissolved (and Robert starts talking over him as if he just went back to being a servant) even though I think it would have been interesting to explore on the show.