A/N: I didn't think I'd be writing S5 when it was airing, and I'll most likely come to regret this very quickly. Also it's not anywhere near my best work, but I just had to get it out there. Eeeeep.
Disclaimer: If I owned Downton Abbey, canon would be looking a hell of a lot different now (and we'd have triple the amount of A/B on screen, at least).
John made it back to the Abbey with time to spare, not needing to check his watch fob to be sure. He had run the errands that he had needed to and gathered the last things that were needed to see his Lordship safely on his way to Sheffield for the officer's dinner. The occasion had given his Lordship something to look forward to, and something else to talk about other than his ire at Mr Branson's schoolteacher friend, which had been rather relentless.
He smiled despite there being nobody around to smile to, content with the gift that he had bought Anna before he had left Ripon. The bath salts were only something small, and no doubt she would berate him by saying that they were an unnecessary luxury, but he hadn't been able to resist. He had dropped them off at the cottage before heading up to the house again, immeasurably pleased with the neat and peaceful way it had been left when they had departed for work that morning, not a thing left out of place. There had been uneasy times, times when the storm outside had not remained there but instead followed them inside their door. John marvelled when he thought of the smiles that had graced his wife's face of late, evidence of the light that had never truly deserted her but waited patiently for her to regain her strength. He was prouder than anything that she had shown them for him and only him, and he savoured every one with the specialness that encompassed them. He returned them the best he could, though it was not an effort whenever he looked at her. The love within him could not be contained. Their love overcame any fear and doubt that was kept tempered, and came to fruition that night after she had returned from her trip to London. Every whisper was left in his ears, every gentle touch imprinted upon his skin. Their lips sharing affirmations and kisses too much longed for. They drifted to sleep with hands intertwined and with only thought of how they trusted one another, and trusted in their love, implicitly.
Regrettably he had been kept too busy, yet he hadn't failed to notice that Anna had been quiet these past few days. He still fretted – especially with this business that had been dragged up once more, reminding them of what they were trying so hard each day to overcome – but he also knew that she needed those times of observation. If anything troubled her, she would come to him. It was something that they had re-learnt, with the sting apparent that they had ever needed to.
Mr Molesley approached him not long after he had relieved himself of his coat and hat at the door, the footman carrying several trays that clattered in his hands.
"A man came asking for you while you were out," he said in a rush that was characteristic of his recent role, though he still took the time to deliver the news so that it would sink in. "He didn't stay, but I believe Mrs Bates spoke to him before he left."
John nodded and said his thanks to the frazzled figure that was Molesley, seeing that he could not enquire further as the other man took off quickly. The quiet crashing of silver echoed down the corridor, dulled by the growing sound of John's thoughts. There was one matter that he could think about, and though it seemed not to make any sense to his mind, panic grew within him considering that Anna was being further involved. His urge to check upon her was greater than it had ever been, though he was working harder at controlling the instinct, knowing that she had never liked to be coddled.
He looked back and forth at the empty corridor at something of a loss, unable for the moment to move his feet or it seemed to do anything. Gentle but determined footsteps could be perceived from the other end, and sure enough, there she was. John was surprised that his sigh of relief wasn't audible upon the walls. Her strides were so that she nearly walked past him as if he was invisible, lips pursed tightly. He held his hand out in the air towards her, and it took her a few seconds to notice its presence. A smile came onto her face when she registered him in front of her, taking more effort than her others had. John observed a little distance in the depths of her eyes, which seemed to recede the longer she looked into his.
"How has your day been?" he asked her, his voice soft and almost swallowed by the hush around them.
"Busy, suddenly." She held out a pair of Lady Mary's shoes in her grasp. "I'm just going to do these and then I think the packing will be done."
"I can come and help you."
Anna shook her head. "You've only just got in, and you've your own work to do."
John gave her a smile, thinking that he didn't mind putting his duties aside for a short while, just glad of the chance to spend time with her. "You said 'packing'?"
"Yes, she's off to London again," Anna replied, the corners of her lips frowning briefly before she drew blank. "Meeting Mr Blake this time."
"She doesn't let the grass grow under her feet."
She managed a small smirk, her shoulders relaxing in her black dress. "You'll hardly see me anymore."
"Don't say that."
His comment had been quiet and rather flippant, if strangely natural to say, and it had affected Anna, who seemed momentarily held in a memory from long before their latest turbulence. The clouds dispersed before John could study them for too long, and she leaned herself in towards him.
"I'd best be getting on if I don't want to rush the job before dinner."
John braced her arm, helping to bring her closer to where she intended. He closed his eyes, and made himself believe that her lips lingered longer upon his out of nothing but sheer wish to do so.
They had managed to miss the worst of the rain by the time they shut the cottage door behind them. John helped Anna with her coat, listening fondly to her as she mumbled about the turn of the weather. They shared a small kiss before she scooted into the kitchen to make some tea – just a cup for them both – and John went to work on a small fire. Anna had yawned countless times on their way home and said she wouldn't be long out of bed, John acquiescing, the work he had been set to of the past few days leaving him feeling weary himself.
He watched her small frame as she bent to the little table, helping her with the weight of the tea tray. A smile on his face prior helped along what he had been putting off asking her the whole evening.
"I believe there was a visitor wanting to see me earlier."
The shadow that only very slightly marred his wife's features made John regret instantly, and confirmed who the visitor must have been. This business was beginning to spiral, clawing at their door when all they needed was peace. The ghosts would not leave them alone, and he regretted his part in bringing them back to life.
"I'm not sure what else I can say to them, past repeating myself until I'm blue in the face."
John turned again to Anna, her face increasingly ashen and her eyes cast down. She was bunching her hands together, hiding the gold of the band on her finger from his view. The atmosphere that had come back into their home in the recent months seemed to have been extinguished swiftly with these new shadows.
He went the few steps to where she stood, suspended, encouraging her with his careful actions instead of any words.
"The other day when you were busy with his Lordship, Sergeant Willis came with an Inspector." Her voice was measured, it taking her some time to unveil her burden. "They wanted to," she stumbled a little bit, pausing and stopping and beginning over again, as she had been prone to do, "question me."
"About my whereabouts?"
John felt a chill crossing his bones when her eyes gazed up into his, beholding irises of melting steel.
Anna gave an almost indistinct shake of her head. "About mine."
He was certain that he was going to wake up at any moment, sit bolt upright in fear with sweat pouring from his head and a vice around his heart. He'd had disturbing dreams of a situation that wasn't quite the same – even in his darkest visions, he couldn't place Anna at the heart of danger. She'd had too much of it, without him there to take her far away from it. His heart started to fracture when she explained that she hadn't wanted him to worry. He hadn't, up until now. Now it was all that comprised him. His heartbreak turned to abhorrence as she went through what they had asked of her. The anxiety that she must have disguised now clearly etched upon her face. She had said where she had been that day - not entirely accurately, but close enough, he conceded. She had certainly got back before he had, if by a passing train. She looked away with what he saw was shame when she told what she had replied to the question of what she had thought of that man he wished they could both forget, not even close to a man when he was but a sceptre. The blood pulsed fervently in crashing waves through his veins, angry beyond belief that she be put through all this again, as though each passing minute of the day wasn't enough for her. And now, to add to the horror, she was under suspicion. It was entirely incomprehensible, but it weighed down upon the whole of his body, crushing him to nothing.
He fought back against every force willing him to give in, fought with the power of love he felt with every fibre for her. She needed him more than ever, to prove his strength as she had proved hers. God, she was so brave.
He had held her; she had let him. For a moment he believed she was going to slip through the spaces between his fingers, allow herself to finally dissolve. She uttered in breaths that took momentum to come that the Inspector had returned that afternoon. It was a carefully constructed ruse asking for him instead, or else he had worked out the very path that would lead to her innocent surrender. She said that she didn't give him away, not that he cared one ounce about himself at that point. John had to wonder; Anna said that Mrs Hughes had been with her while she had been questioned. Knowing that Anna was still at risk, how on earth could she have left her alone?
"She can't be holding my hand at every second of the day," Anna replied with an edge that was understandable. "And neither can you."
Though he was certain that she didn't mean it, her words cut sharply through him. Yes, it was his job to see to his Lordship, but he had no greater duty than to ensure her welfare. The regret he felt at this moment was unlike any other feeling he had ever encountered.
He hated to ask, but he knew it was not all of it. Anna's shoulders trembled in a small rhythm, and his heart ached at the sight.
"Why did he come back?"
"He had some things to say after he'd gone and put the pieces together. I suppose..."
John cupped his palm at one of her shoulders gently, the small strokes of his fingers placating her.
"I suppose they were warnings," she concluded, breath hitching only when she had finished.
His instinct was to circle her completely in his embrace, hold her there for the rest of time, or at least until everything went away. But he knew now that wouldn't be happening. He was at least glad they were here at the cottage, where they had made so much of their path to healing. He would be damned if the road disappeared from them now.
Anna looked back up at him, her throat bobbing as she traced her gaze over his face. Her hand was grasping at his jacket, her knuckles flashing red then bright white. He tenderly covered it with his own, keeping hold of it while he shrugged the layer off.
"He was saying that he wasn't as slow or as easily fooled as Sergeant Willis. That he wasn't going to give up, not when a man had paid with his life."
John's anger began to rise – in the end, he had only got what he had deserved. He pushed it down to below his knees, absorbing himself completely in Anna, her palms now pressed against his shirt.
"I suppose they must have spoken to Lady Mary," she carried on courageously, her eyes darting about the only visible sign of her distress. "Because he said that not everything matched up. It wouldn't be the first time something like this had happened, and just because of my position they wouldn't make exceptions. At least he wouldn't."
Shivers wracked his spine. He imagined Anna standing, not backing away, but frightened. The thought of this Inspector goading her, playing every trick in the book to get her to confess to something she simply didn't do – and bringing her back to the fear she had to contend with for so long – made him almost blind with consternation.
She sighed heavily, a weight from her soul released – what else could have been said?
"He said that whatever happened, he would get to the bottom of it." Her voice became wispy, hardly louder than a wreath of the wind. "And that everyone, here and in London, would know."
All at once she appeared blank, filled up to the brim with dread, and utterly lost. The invisible dagger lodged itself into John's heart. If the web of lies were to be dispersed – and they had to be, given what he hardly believed was transpiring – then the truth had to come out. He promised her that it would not come to that – a promise that perhaps he had said to himself on a long and unbearably dark night – but perhaps it was one promise that had to be broken.
They wouldn't think of that, not now. John only knew that she would have the support that she needed to see her through the veil, and she would not be alone. He would be there beside her, too – he had no intention of being made culpable, and began to filter through the choices in his mind.
Looking into her eyes, locked as they were with his, all that had been hidden was beginning to make itself shown. As he had known just who it had been who hurt her and stole that piece of her soul that would always be missing, she knew that he had gone to London that day. Their belief in the other had not been broken, and Anna showed in her gaze that she didn't truly believe it of him. But it didn't stop the fear she felt, nor the deep regret that he had played a hand in things turning this way. Yet he hadn't yet relinquished the small power he had in letting it revolve.
Gently, John ran his hands up and down Anna's arms, an action he had employed in the recent past meant entirely to comfort her. It was something that seemed to calm her of her nerves, and she began to soften against him, if her face did still speak of disturbance.
"I swear, my love," he used the endearment as tenderly as he had when he had very first uttered it to her, meaning it more than ever, "that nothing bad will happen to you. Not while I can prevent it."
Her eyes flashed a grey shade of blue while his fingers continued to stroke against her. John could read that there were a myriad of thoughts racing through her head by her features, and he wished that he could change things at this very moment, not bearing for her to suffer a second longer. She did seem calmer as she focused on his touch, yet she rushed to speak again.
"What if the Inspector comes here?" she asked, her voice low, as if she was afraid to be heard. "What if he sends someone to search the cottage?"
"Why would he do that?" John regretted his reply immediately, seeing alarm of some consideration passing over Anna.
"I don't know," she said quietly. "I'm tired. I'm not thinking properly. But I'm not sure what will happen, not anymore."
It was all so unjust, he couldn't get it out of his head. His Anna, his beautiful Anna, who would never cause harm to anyone. How could anyone look at her and think otherwise? He owed it to her to be able to give her the future she deserved, the future that they would have and the promise of whose light would overpower the darkness.
His hand travelled up to cup her face, the look in her eyes hitting him squarely in his chest. He adored her more than anything in the world; his wife, his best friend. God willing, the mother of his children.
"I'll tell you what will happen," he said softly, his thumb running over her cheek, his other hand upon the small of her back drawing her closer into his embrace. "I'll make certain you're safe. That nobody will ever threaten you again. I'll hold you like this forever, if I have to."
He smiled at her, meaning it with all of his heart.
"Nobody can get to us," he made a point of saying, promising to her that nothing would happen to him either. It couldn't, not once other things had come to light. "We'll be here a long while yet, or we'll go somewhere else, if you want to."
"John," she said in a small voice that he heard loud and clear.
His response was to hold her closer.
"We'll grow old together," he promised, picturing the image so vividly in his mind, seeing Anna as beautiful as she ever was by his side, her hand held in his. He couldn't help the smile that grew upon his face. "Surrounded by our children."
He held his breath as he watched the expression upon Anna's face change, not just thinking that he saw the faded light begin to glimmer in her eyes again.
"I'm sorry I keep mentioning it. If you don't feel ready, or you want to wait," he added, making it certainly known with his look as well as his words that she was his main concern, in this moment and always.
He felt her hand reaching to his, placing it with only a slight waver upon her hip.
"But I do," she uttered with a little gasp. "That is, I wouldn't want to wait. I want your children. Our children."
The sunshine of her smile broke through the clouds for the time being, as they lost themselves in the promises of the future. She went forward, sinking herself against his chest, and he smoothed her hair, placing kisses there every few seconds. John heard that she began to softly sob, and he circled his arms around her, bringing a shelter for her, soothing his hands over her back.
He had been misguided in his attempts to protect her up to now, but now he knew that the time had come to be courageous – for Anna, who had never done anything than show how she was made of courage in all of their trials. He would need to tell her first, and then he would do what needed to be done before it was too late, with regret that he had ever stalled in the first place. Yet now was not the time for regrets. It was not the time for anything other than for them to stay in each other's arms, holding strong as the storm went on outside.
At long last, and once more, they would brave it together.
A/N: I didn't expand past (what I hope will be in) the episode, because I have absolutely no idea what the hell Fellowes is going to do with this now. Every avenue that could be gone down seems to turn some other problem up for our lovely OTP :( (but I am super suspicious of Tony Gillingham...)