This little fic has been playing on my mind for a while now, so I hope you enjoy!
p.s – 'Crumbling' will be continued as soon as possible, however my very busy work schedule will not allow me to plot some interesting development into the story at this present time. This fic is set in roughly 1923, a few years after the Bates' have settled down to married life in their little cottage Robert always promised them.
Knifes. That was his first instinct as his eyes flickered open.
It was very late at night – or early in the morning – and Mr Bates lay flat on his back, drenched in a cold sweat. His whole body, his knee in particular, ached as though he had just survived a plummet off a huge cliff, which his landing was sharp knives. He turned to his side, where he saw Anna sleeping soundly. Even after seeing her sight daily, the image of her sleeping still made his heart ache – which didn't help his current situation.
Groaning, he slowly manoeuvred off their bed, and stood up. His head suddenly blurred, sharp pulses racing through his skull almost bringing him to his knees in pain. Inhaling desperately, he felt for his cane and then shuffled down the small set of stairs into the kitchen.
His cold sweat had been replaced by a blistering temperature. The last time he had been that hot was the time when Anna had revealed to him a daring set of lingerie that Lady Mary had given to her as she had felt rather awkward about passing it on to Edith…
Bates tried to remove the overwhelming image of his wife in the suggestive attire from his mind, and instead tried to focus on the task at hand – he needed some fresh air, and fast.
He stepped out of the porch of his little cottage, his and Anna's little cottage. The cool, crisp air hit him instantly, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. He stepped a few strides outwards, and turned to admire their home.
They had lived there for near enough three years, but already Bates had a lifetime of memories stored in his brain. He remembered as they walked hand in hand through the door that was now slightly ajar, excitement and relief pulsing through his veins as he was released from the ugly clutches of the law and was free to set up a home with his beautiful, head-strong, deserving wife. He remembered how he loved – no, in fact loves – waking up next to her every day, having the ability to wrap a comforting arm around her hips or to be able to kiss her shoulders with passion. Nothing fuelled him for the day more than seeing his freshly awoken wife, a sworn enemy of early mornings, looking like a goddess as she opened her eyes and lifted her head from her pillow.
He remembered their first sorrow, a sorrow which to this day brought tears to his eyes. Anna had been a few months with child, both of them excited for the prospect of their love being made clear to all by both of their flesh and blood combining to make what would be their precious first born. However, no sooner had they began celebrating, Anna awoke one night in complete pain and soaked in blood…she had lost him. Her hysterical expression and the early loss of what would have been his son broke his heart that day, and they both held each other and wept mercilessly. She had been ashamed she was unable to give him a child. He remembered as he sobbed to her that it was just one of those things that happened, and under no account would it weaken their relationship. He became extremely protective of her at work, and as none of their colleagues knew the truth, Bates was quick to fend off any criticism, slander or muttered comments for the next few weeks that passed. He loathed letting her out of his sight, and every time they sat down together he refused to let go of her hand until their duties forced them apart.
He remembered recovering from their ordeal, holding his darling Anna close every night, swearing that he cared the most about her welfare and nothing else. He remembered the way she would just want to hold him, but never anything more. However, Anna was a fighter, and the sad, dark feeling in their cottage slowly vanished after a few weeks.
He remembered making love to her for the first time after it happened, how every slow, gentle thrust was his way of showing her that she was his only concern now. She had been scared, and weary, but he made sure that she was happy, and put all of his overwhelming love for her into that night they spent together.
All of those events were in just the first year of their inhabitancy. Although Anna had not fallen pregnant since their loss, two years on she was the same Anna that occupied Downton when he first arrived back in 1912…the same Anna he had fallen in love with.
Re-living his memories, he was brought sharply back into the real world as an icy blast of wind crashed upon him. His body was aching worse than before, but at least his sizzling temperature had subsided. He looked towards the front door to find his wife stood there, leaning casually against its frame and raising one delicate eyebrow.
'John,' she said, partly inquisitive and partly amused. 'Forgive me for being so bold, but do you mind if I ask what you are doing stood outside our house at this time of night in the middle of November?'
Bates smiled as he approached her and halted right outside the door frame she was still leaning on.
'If truth be told, I'm not feeling too great,' Bates said honestly. Since being married to Anna, he had learnt one thing. Whenever he tried to hide any form of pain or discomfort, she saw right through it, so there was never any point in lying about his health.
'So, I'm sure standing outside in near-freezing temperatures helped, did it?' she teased.
'I needed some fresh air and to cool down a bit,' Bates grinned as he defended himself. 'Anyway, I didn't mean to wake you, I was only planning on leaving you for a few minutes but my mind went elsewhere.'
Anna stopped leaning on the door frame and allowed Bates into the house.
'And I didn't particularly want to be woken, you know how much I love my sleep, but the fact that a deathly breeze was rattling not only the bed-sheets but my bones – I had no choice but to see where the wind was coming from.'
'I'm sorr…' Bates began to apologise before she silenced him.
'We'll have none of that, I was simply checking you weren't sleepwalking…or leaving me,' Anna said the last part quietly.
'Hey, and we'll have none of that either,' Bates replied. 'You know I couldn't leave you, simply getting called to Lord Grantham's service for an hour is like torture for me.'
'I know, I'm only teasing, you silly beggar,' Anna sighed amusedly as she stroked his arm. 'So, what's wrong?' she asked, as they descended the stairs hand in hand.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Minutes later, Bates was lying back on the bed as Anna sat up and delivered to him her final verdict.
'Well, it looks like you have flu, but we'll need Doctor Clarkson to confirm it,' she said pityingly. 'But I don't think you'll get the day off to rest, what with Sybil and Mr Branson returning tomorrow and the service already being short seeing as Mr Carson's back has been causing him some problems and frankly Thomas just being lazy.'
He nodded. It had been exactly what he had suspected.
'Are you sure you don't want me to sleep downstairs, just in case I pass it on to you?' he asked her. At this, she swatted his shoulder.
'Of course not, you silly man, I want to stay with you until I'm sure you've made your recovery,' she exclaimed irritably. 'Your nobility astounds me.'
'My nobility is usually for your own good,' Bates muttered as he covered himself back in their bed-sheets. Once she had also submerged under the covers, he found her waist and placed an admittedly sweaty hand around it.
'Goodnight, Mrs Bates,' he sighed tiredly as he arched his aching back to drop a lingering kiss on her unexpecting lips. He saw her smile in the dim moonlight that leaked through a gap in the curtains.
'Goodnight, Mr Bates,' she said playfully before returning a lingering kiss.
He was ill, there was no doubt about that. However, as he closed his eyes and felt the warmth of his wife's body against his fingertips, a smile spread across his face.
They had found happiness.