*hello! This is a new work that I plan on making multi-chaptered, I have about 3 or 4 planned out but not quite written yet, depending on how this first part is received ill see how far I take this one, maybe longer. A lot of this is based off of personal experience and im not super sure about UK laws as I am in America but if anyone finds any fault with the details of the law stuff please let me know and ill fix it.

Some info to know before hand- This is set modern day, as in now, and the Crawleys are not titled or anything, just incredibly rich. They have staff but not all of them stay on the estate(which you will see) the house(still very sizable, maybe not as big as downton) is about 2 miles from the village town which is a little bit more populated than on the show, it has been about 100 years, so some expansion and development is expected. Our lovely Tom does not make an appearance in this chapter but rest assured, he will be front and center for the next one!

(also quick note: this fic contains themes of emotional, physical and mental abuse so please be aware if you are sensitive to that)

On to the stuff! Enjoy

Chapter one: Coping

…Eight. Nine. Ten. Keep breathing. The moment will pass. He isn't here.

Slowly opening her eyes Sybil found herself lying in her childhood bed. Looking up at the curtains hanging from the carved bedposts. Breathing deeply and continuing to count. Count her breaths, count the small flowers adorning her curtains, count anything and everything if need be for the panic to slow, dissipate, and hopefully stop. She had been doing this for the past half hour. Dr. Clarkson said that she would have to take small steps. That she would be able to control these episodes if she could only breathe deeply and remind herself that she was safe. And she was.

Finally, she felt her insides unclench and release. She took a good look around and slowly sat up, noticing the sun setting outside. Perhaps she had been up here longer than she first thought.

The morning had started out so nicely. She had woken up and was feeling good, really and truly good for the first time since she had moved back in with her parents nearly 5 weeks ago. Feeling so light and free she had decided to talk a walk into town. It was a short two-mile trek through the beautiful landscape that surrounded her childhood estate. Growing up rich had had its benefits as well as its downfalls. One of her favorite memories was walking into town with her father when she was younger. Her sisters always thought she was silly. They could just take the car and be there so much sooner, but Sybil had enjoyed the physicality or the act and the time spent asking her father about everything and anything her small mind could think of. When she got older, she would walk to town to take dance classes with Miss Isobel, who now owned and ran the studio. On the way there, she would practically dance the whole way, practicing her leaps and glissades to make sure she got them perfect. That long walk had helped hone her craft to get her to where she was today. Officially graduated from University with a degree in dance education, ready to start taking over for Isobel's classes and one day, her entire studio.

Of course growing up privileged and rich also had its downfalls. Sure, she was able to take so many classes and have the best training and education but that also came with expectations she was expected to fulfill. Mainly, making a good marriage. She had travelled in the "right" circles and met the "right" people but she never felt as comfortable with it as Mary had. Of course, Mary had that commanding sort of personality that immediately draws your eye right to her. Sybil was much more reserved, observant. Always more interested in things she should not be, like politics and religion. Always drawn to the wrong sort of people. But Larry was in the "right" sort of people, or at least she thought he was.

Getting out of bed and searching the closet for something to wear to dinner, Granny was visiting so Sybil couldn't just take something in her room like she wanted to after today. She pulled out a long black dress, feeling the need to cover up and hide, a shell of the person she once was, who wore bright colors with patterns and "crazy" designs. This was who she was now. Zipping up the soft material and rolling the sleeves down Sybil stared at her wrist. The now yellowing bruise was a constant reminder of her shame. Things like this did not happen to girls like her, especially not by boys like him. But happen, it did. Maybe it was her fault. Dr. Clarkson said that it wasn't and that she would have a lot more to deal with than just the physical reminders. Every day she discovered a new layer of trauma that she had unknowingly been dealing with and ignoring for the past year. If not for that last night, she probably would still be at their flat, living in fear.

Just this morning she had discovered that going into town on her own was no longer a fun morning out. It was a terrifying experience that left her a sobbing mess on the side of the road for Mr. Bates, their gardener to find her on his way into work. She wasn't even sure what the trigger was, but Dr. Clarkson said there always was one. All she could remember was the sudden shortness of breath and the spots covering her eyes and the feeling of adrenaline rushing through her ears. She was frozen to the spot and remained that way until she was lifted into the car by Mr. Bates who remained silent while driving her back home. Her father saw her climbing out of Mr. Bates' truck and immediately came to investigate. Mr. Bates had calmly explained what happened, leaving out the complete mess she had been in but he could tell by the grass clinging to her hair and the tearstains all over her shirt that she was not all right. Father had told her to take some time in her room and to let him know if she wanted lunch brought in to her. By the darkening of the sky, lunch had come and gone and now it was time to be strong and face her family who had been so important over these last few weeks.

Most especially her father had stepped in and become her rock, since finding her at her lowest point and handling everything for her. He had closed her, their, flat. He had helped her obtain the restraining order, and most importantly had talked with Larry's family about sending him away for a little while. Since Sybil wasn't able to be present to press any charges, he only served the one night in jail for what he had done. The year of emotional abuse wasn't enough to hold him, but the proof covering her body was undeniable. His influence with the court, or rather his father's had prevented a more strict punishment and had also kept it out of the press. Not that either of them were very famous, but a couple with as much financial influence behind them as they had combined, would garner some attention especially with Larry hoping to someday become political.

She had thought she was much better today. Finally venturing outside on her own, how little she really knew about her recovery. She knew she shouldn't have pushed herself, she knew she should have asked someone to go with her, but she missed dancing so much. It had been five long weeks and she craved the wooden floors and metal bars. Longed to roll on the floor and feel free to do and be whoever she was in that moment, not who she was to the world. The quicker she could master small things like walking into town, the quicker she could start teaching the smaller children and start choreographing again. However, today had felt like a major setback, and now she had to talk herself up and build her confidence again from base zero. Walking to her table mirror Sybil grabbed her stack of quickly disappearing post-it notes and wrote "you are not alone" on the bright neon pink slip before sticking it to the side of the mirror. It joined a slew of other gentle and not so gentle reminders that helped her face the day or in this case the night ahead. Talking and pretending to be ok with family in face of feeling this down, she was going to need all of the encouragement she could get.