A/N: I couldn't resist writing another fic and I can't seem to write a fic without it including Matthew & Mary... Yes they are my favourite ship :P I came up with the idea for this fic a couple of days ago and wanted to write it - it's all from Matthew's POV and it's not related to any of my other Downton fics at all. If you have the time, please take a look at my other fics & please review this one! This is only a one-shot but I would like to think what you all think of this! Not long now until series 2 *waves hands excitedly* Oh and this has a little spolier for series 2.. Not major though but a little one so beware!

Enjoy :)

"I'm sorry Matthew I just can't do this. I am not a lady."

Matthew recoiled in shock as Lavinia spoke shakily as she sat in one of the chairs at Crawley House, her gaze not meeting his as he stood up, staring at her, his heart shattering into what felt like a million pieces. Not again surely no…

He swallowed, eventually finding a small voice that was not his.

"But Lavinia-" He was cut off by her voice, a sympathetic smile, her eyes shining with tears.

"I love you Matthew, but I can't pretend to be someone I'm not. I cannot pretend that one day, I'll be the lady of Downton and it scares me. I'm not cut out to become that person. I'm sorry." Her petite, soft hand came up to touch his cheek gently as she moved to press a light kiss to it.

"I'll be there Lavinia," He whispered softly, catching her hand in his as she lowered it, holding it tightly, "You don't need to be scared."

The red-headed woman – beautiful red-headed woman - in front of him shook her head, as he saw more tears roll down her cheeks, squeezing his hand gently.

"I'm sorry but I just can't do this Matthew. There are other reasons why, reasons that are too painful for me to discuss but one day you will realise. You'll see that this is best for both of us." With a final squeeze on his hand, she lowered hers and turned to walk out, walk out of his life. Matthew could barely breathe, his heart beating hard in his chest, gulping at the air as it felt he had none left in him. He reached out blindly at her, desperate to make her see sense as he spun her around, her expression wild and sad as he looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Please," He whispered, his voice hoarse from emotion, choking on thin air, "Don't go."

She smiled sadly at him, dropping her hand and uttering a single word before disappearing out of the door.

"Goodbye."

Months had passed since he had held that conversation with Lavinia, months since she had walked out of his life and only now he knew what she had meant. He was sat in his dugout, wind howling outside as the rest of his men were huddled together further along, sheltering and attempting to keep warm. He was grateful that his dugout was slightly well-made than the others, an advantage of being a captain. He was recovering from the day's work, the day of killing every bloody German he saw, trying to stay alive when he saw it. The little toy rabbit he had been given that day at the train station when she – he struggled to say her name even now – came to say goodbye. He hadn't given the rabbit one thought since he had received it, but now he looked at it properly, stroking the ears as he gazed down at it. They were friends, him and Lady Mary, but he guessed something somewhere in his heart would always feel something for her. He brought up the rabbit to his face, feeling the soft fur tickled his face as he breathed in the scent – hints of her perfume; the sweetest perfume, reminding him of her. Emotions stirred inside of him once more, it felt as if there were butterflies inside his stomach, a small smile emerging, the first real smile since Lavinia had gone. He realised then what she had meant – she had known that he would always feel something for Mary. She had somehow known and yet, he had only realised just now, gazing down at the toy rabbit she once had, her "good-luck charm". From that moment on, the blasted rabbit was the first thing he sought out once he returned to his dugout in the evenings, falling more and more back in love with her every time he saw it. This evening was the same – it had become like a ritual to him, that he was staying alive every day so he could see this toy and think once more of her, staying alive so he could one day return it to her.

Expect this evening ended very differently as it usually did – he felt the world turned upside down as the explosion ripped through the dugout, the noise deafening him as the shell hit the trench. He cried out as he was through into the air, pain running through his legs as he landed heavily on his back, the rabbit flying from his hand. The dugout began to collapse around him, wooden beams falling onto him as he brought his arms up to protect his head, crying out for help. He began to crawl, trying to find a way out before another beam collapsed onto him, trapping his already injured leg. This time he had no energy to cry out, and he simply succumbed to the darkness, falling into unconsciousness.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in a small bed, warm and comforting. His eyelids felt heavy, blinking a couple of times to regain his focus. He lifted his head slowly, gazing around the room he was in, confused as it looked like Downton… No it can't be, he thought, shifting himself up a little bit to peer around. He was the only one in the room, hazy sunlight drifting in from the window – he could have sworn he had heard a bird song drift into the silence of the room. His suspicions were confirmed when his mother entered the room, gently hurrying to his side, relief shown across her features. He smiled at her, reaching for her hand but suddenly grimacing as pain shot through his left leg. He gripped her hand tightly as the memories came flooding back, his air supply becoming more and more restricted, his eyes become more and more unfocused… He then suddenly felt another hand take his, a small slender hand. He turned slightly, and his eyes widened as the woman that looked like Mary stared back at him, her hand stroking his, calming him. He felt a small smile on his face, a ghost of one appeared on hers, her eyes shining with affection. He couldn't believe that she was there, the love inside him numbing the pain he felt as he gripped her hand. Then everything went black once more and when he woke, it was only his mother's hand in his.

It had taken him weeks to recover; a broken leg his mother had told him, so he was bound to stay in the room he was in. He had arrived back at Downton a few days after sustaining his injury, but had remained unconscious until she had visited, until she had held his hand in hers. She had visited since then apparently, his mother told him, but he hardly remembered it. He then of course heard the whole Pamuk story – someone had somehow spilled the story and since then Mary had not visited. The news was a whole new wave of pain to Matthew, but by spending all of his time in bed, he had time to think it all over. Sitting up, he could see a box on the table next to him – his mother had said it was his belongings brought with him from the front, and at the top of the pile sat the rabbit. The wretched rabbit he had promised himself to bring back, the rabbit which reminded him of her. He remembered everything, how he fought to come back to her and suddenly, everything seemed so clear. The pain of everything that happened between them, the news of her and Pamuk was needless to him now – he had fought everything to come back to her and he wasn't about to put everything he had down to waste. No, he was going to return her rabbit, just as he had promised.

And that's why he had found himself in the library a couple of weeks later, limping heavily but he felt free, free from the prison of his bed and the first person he had wanted to see was her. He slipped into the library, and that's when he saw her, her in all of her beauty, sitting in the armchair, reading a book peacefully. He limped further into the room and she spotted him for the first time, gazing up at him, her dark eyes widening in surprise. She made to stand up, but he put a hand out to stop up, all the while moving slowly closer to her.

"No, it's ok. Don't trouble yourself," He said gently, as she nodded and smiled weakly. He smiled in return, moving to stand next to her, silence filling the room. He was half tempted to just grab her and kiss her as if his life depended on it. A small voice spoke, a whisper that he barely recognized as hers.

"I'm sorry Matthew. You must think ill of me." She sighed sadly, standing up to walk over to the window, gazing out on the grounds. Matthew shook his head, moving slowly to follow her.

"Mary-"

"I should have told you," She said once more, her voice shaking with pure emotion as he could see her bring a hand up to wipe at her face, "I was a fool."

"Mary-"

"Now I've ruined everything my family has ever stood for, I'm not worthy of anything and-"

"Mary stop!" Matthew all but cried out, his eyes pleading with her as she spun to face him, her mouth dropping open as her expression soften at the sight of him. He clung onto the back of the armchair he was steadying himself against, his grip tightening as he blinked several times, breathing out as he gazed at the woman in front of him – the only woman he would really ever love.

"Have I ever told you how wonderful you are Mary?" Despite everything he smiled, letting go of the chair as she made to speak, only putting a hand out gently in front of him.

"It doesn't matter now," She sighed heavily, throwing her arms out.

"How can it not Matthew? I'm utterly shamed and ruined!" She cried at him, and he simply smiled, weakly, edging ever nearer to her, desperate to hold her again – he hadn't do so for three long years.

"Have faith in my judgement Mary – all I see standing in front of me is a truly wonderful woman that any man would be lucky to marry," He smiled as she turned away, facing the window once more, her shoulders shaking. He continued to step closer, ignoring the pain throbbing through his leg as he took her in her slender, her beauty that she had always had.

"And despite everything, my dear, I could never ever think ill of you. None of that matters anymore, how we acted in the past." He then pulled out the rabbit out of his pocket, holding it slightly in front of him as a gasp escaped Mary as she recognized the toy, taking it gently from him. She looked at him, affection brimming in her eyes which shone with tears as he was now close enough to reach a hand out for hers, stroking it softly, marvelling in how soft they were, just as soft as they always had been. He tightened his grip, as she felt a gentle pressure from her.

"I promised I would bring that back," He said gently, as a small laugh sounded from Mary, her looking up at him, smiling for the first time he had stepped in the room. His free hand reached up to touch her cheek, stroking it, caressing it as a smile of his own crept across his face, unwanted tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as he became lost in the emotion of it all, the love that was clear from both of them. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse but gentle, saying every word that he had always meant. He had just never realised it.

"I love you."

She let go of the rabbit, dropping it forgotten to the floor as she clutched his face and kissed him with such passion, he did not know could exist. They became lost in a world of passion, love and years of wanting as he kissed her fiercely back, one of his hands resting on her waist as the other remained caressing her cheek. Her hands were wound in his, clutching herself to him as he became lost in her, taken into a trance by her kiss, her touch… He could have quite happily stayed in a trance with her forever, not ever leaving it. And they left the library an hour or so later, him clutching her hand tightly, smiling at her as they sought out her parents to announce their engagement, he felt happier than he had done in months and nothing could stop the infectious smile spreading across his face now that he knew what Lavinia had meant – that he had always and never stopped loving Lady Mary Crawley.