All Through the Night
Summary: The moments in the developing relationship between Mary and Jed, centering around various songs, with a special song recurring time and again.
In choosing the songs here, I tried looking for songs that were around the Civil War era but it was hard to determine this for sure, so the best I could do was to guess. I hope I was not too wrong. Enjoy!
It was very early in the morning when Jed made his way sleepily down the corridor towards the stairs to start his rounds of the day. He was still trying to clear his head from sleep and concentrate on the challenges of the day when something unexpected reached his ears. At first, he thought that he was imagining things – after all, he was still getting used to life without morphine – but he quickly realized that the sound he was hearing was indeed real… and it was coming from the storage room he'd just passed. Curious, he backtracked his steps and stopped in front of the room's slightly opened door.
When he peeked in, he stopped surprised. It was Mary in the room, sitting by the table, absentmindedly folding bandages while she was humming a peaceful tune seemingly without any care of the world. It was such a strange, though not at all unwelcome sight, and Jed quickly found himself mesmerized.
She was usually so tense and guarded, no doubt the weight of her responsibilities lying heavily on her shoulders while, Jed suspected, she was still struggling to cope with the strange situation she'd been thrown into.
None of that showed any trace on her now, though. He was astonished how so much younger she looked without sadness and worry clouding her eyes. He wished she'd let him see her like that.
He wished they could become friends.
Yes, friends…
After his initial annoyance with her presence had faded, he found himself intrigued by the young baroness, even if she could still be a nuisance at times.
She was a mystery, even more so now and he could feel his interest turn into fascination.
As he slowly continued on his way, now he himself humming a tune that reminded himself of his childhood, he wondered how she sounded like when she was really singing. Somehow he was sure that she sounded angelic.
She did sound angelic, he decided not long after that.
It was Christmas and she was sitting by the grand piano in the Green residence, playing an older version of "Hark! The Herald Angels Sings". The people around her watched on with rapt attention while he, though expecting her to be so wonderfully talented, stood captivated and felt some otherworldly pride when, standing up and thanking the attention, she held his eyes, smiling.
Her sparkling eyes warmed his heart as she walked up to him and he watched her affectionately as she took his sincere compliments with grace.
It was such a wonderful night, Jed reflected, unable to tear his eyes away from Mary. He felt light like he hadn't in ages and Mary looked so mesmerizing with her joyous look. It was like a night they should have met in a perfect world.
But they weren't living in a perfect world and soon Mary's features hardened and the sparkle in her eyes faded. He saw her throwing a quick glance towards the piano where Miss Hastings was butchering an old lullaby before turning back to him with trepidation.
They walked in silence back to the Mansion House arm in arm, her staring in front of herself absentmindedly and him deep in thoughts. Before parting, he placed a kiss on her forehead and was grateful for the small smile that graced her lips.
The next time he heard her singing, she surprised him... but not with her beautiful voice. That natural ease with which she joined a group of soldiers in the yard in their merry singing left him in stunned awe.
The soldiers had been playing different folk songs for some time when Mary stopped by the group. First they stopped but when the disapproving frown that the other nurses wore didn't come, they continued with their entertainment – which they, God knew, sorely needed – and when Mary was still there after the second song, they beckoned to her… and she happily joined them.
And if Jed hadn't been completely awestruck before, it was Mary's sweet voice not that of the boys' which sounded with the guitar as she sang about the unfortunate incident between two sisters.
He irrevocably fell in love that day.
He wanted to protect that joyous smile that came unbidden onto her lips and wished for the twinkle in her eyes never to fade.
Unfortunately, dark days followed that carefree afternoon and for a long time the only thing Jed could do was to worriedly watch as Mary withdrew into herself again as they all struggled to look after the wounded soldiers who kept flooding in day after day.
When on rare occasions he found himself in his room alone with his thoughts, he wished for her tender voice to lull him into sleep.
It was yet another young boy, who should have been at home with his mother but whom the glory of war had so cruelly deceived to lead him into a lonely death, that finally made her sing again.
But it was a bittersweet sound.
The boy was young, just a child, like so many of them. And he was dying, like so many of them.
This time, though, the boy wasn't alone. Mary was sitting by his side, gently stroking his feverish forehead like a loving mother.
"O'er thy spirit gently stealing visions of delight revealing breathes a pure and holy feeling all through the night…" she sang in a warm, steady voice but Jed could see the tears gathering in her eyes.
His heart went out to her as he silently walked up to the bed and waited for the song to end. The boy had been already dead. "…Earthly dust from off thee shaken, soul immortal shalt thou awaken, with thy last dim journey taken, home through the night." Her voice finally broke by the end and Jed slowly pulled her against him, not really caring what anybody would think about that.
He let her silently cry, hating that her job required so much of her and thoroughly detesting the fact that it was always the bedside of an unfortunate soul where he was allowed to be so close to her.
"Come on, now," he pulled her to her feet. "The orderly will take care of the boy. You need to rest." Mary obediently followed him and that mere fact showed him how utterly exhausted she was. They all were.
When they stopped by her door, he wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. Hell, he wanted to hold her through the night, protecting her, just for a little while, from everything that would hurt or upset her.
But it wasn't his place and he wondered whether it would ever be.
They'd been dancing on a thin line for a while now and, while he would have forsaken every propriety for the sake of being with her, he didn't want to put her through that. But being unable to provide the comfort she so obviously need was killing him.
"That song," he started out of the blue after a long stretch of silence (maybe she was just as unwilling to part as he was) just to prolong his stay. "I'm sure it brought great comfort to that poor boy." Silence again. "I know it brought to me when my grandmother sang it to me." Now he knew from where he knew the tune that seemed so familiar when he first heard her hum it. "Though I have to admit that I am unfamiliar with the greater part of your version. I can't recall those closing lines."
Mary gave her small sad smile. "My father used to sing it to me. Not all of it, of course."
"I can recall a different closing verse. Not so gloomy."
"Love, to thee my thoughts are turning, all through the night, all for thee my heart is yearning, all through the night. Though sad fate our lives may sever parting will not last forever, there's a hope that leaves me never, all through the night," she murmured the last verse. "It always gave me great comfort when he sang those lines… Knowing that he was there, watching my dreams…"
"Not anymore?" he asked curiously. "That was why you looked so upset when Miss Hasting gave a rendition of it at Christmas?"
That earned a weak chuckle for him. "Oh, that was because she made a huge disservice for the song." In that they both agreed.
"After my father passed," she continued, more somber, "I found those lines I sang to Private Johnson in one of his books. It stuck with me, I suppose, and after my husband died… I believe it just fit." She looked so lost that Jed couldn't help stepping closer to her.
"You are not alone, Mary," he told her, gently cupping her cheek. "You must know that."
Mary nodded hardly perceivably and it gave him a little hope that they were on the same page regarding the other.
"But whatever your feelings might be… or mine, for that matter, it doesn't change the fact that you are a married man." Her words, delivered in a confident, defiant manner, stabbed his heart as they rang true. "Good night… Doctor."
Jed gaped as Mary turned away. He couldn't let things go unresolved just like that. On impulse, he reached for her and pulled her flash against him, claiming her puzzled lips. Mary surprised him by, despite her previous words, reciprocating the kiss that ended all too soon.
"I swear," he started, resting his forehead against hers. "I swear to you that I'll find a way… I'll make this right."
He retreated to his room that night, his mind made up: he would find a way to make this work. If he had to, he'd go after his wife to California.
The next day he sent a letter explaining everything to Eliza, asking for forgiveness and for her to let him free.
Unfortunately, getting a letter to the West Coast was a long process under normal circumstances, and with the War raging, it seemed almost impossible.
The days waiting for an answer seemed unending, filled with pain and death and so little opportunity for a reprieve.
His relationship with Mary undeniably changed after their talk in front of her room but with the small comfort it brought, it bred further sadness.
It was a torture like nothing else to have something you want in an arm's reach, and yet be unable to have it. And he knew Mary was suffering, too. She was working harder than ever, making it difficult for Jed to steal some private moments with her. She still readily joined the soldiers if they happened to be singing and she still had a warm smile for the patients but whenever he saw her working alone or sitting in solitary, there was deep sadness sitting in her eyes… and he'd never again caught her humming to herself.
There was a song whose tune caught his ears more than once when Mary was singing with the soldiers.
"Oh soldier, kind soldier, will you marry me? Oh no, pretty maiden, that never shall be, I've a wife down in London and children twice three. Two wives and the army's too many for me. Well I'll go back to London and I'll stay there for a year. It's often that I'll think of you my little dear. And if ever I return it'll be in the spring to see the waters glide and hear the nightingales sing," the last lines went, he knew it by heart by now.
The days of waiting dragged on at a snail's pace.
The letter came in the early winter and he would be forever grateful to Eliza: she had sent all the necessary paperwork for their divorce.
The wedding was small, neither of them keen on a big parade, but it seemed that the happy occasion was as good an excuse as any for a diversion so they couldn't avoid the impromptu celebration that followed the ceremony.
Later that night, when they were lying in bed together on the verge of dosing off, Jed reflected just what a lucky bastard he was. That joyous glint he so much missed from Mary's eyes had returned, and he was the reason for it. What is more, that open smile that made her whole expression radiant seemed to have taken a permanent residence on her pretty face and he was completely lost.
He was making her happy. For the first time in a long time, he believed that life could be wonderful.
And the words of the lullaby her grandmother used to sing to him came to his mind. And they weren't Mary's version, nor her father's.
Deep the silence 'round us spreading
all through the night.
Dark the path that we are treading
all through the night.
Still the coming day discerning
by the hope within us burning. To the dawn our footsteps turning
all through the night.
Star of faith the dark adorning
all through the night.
Leads us fearless t'wards the morning
all through the night.
Though our hearts be wrapt in sorrow,
from the hope of dawn we borrow
promise of a glad tomorrow
all through the night.
"I like this the best," Mary murmured sleepily into his shoulder as he pressed a kiss into her hair.
"Sorry, not much of a singer."
"It was beautiful." She was beautiful, he wanted to tell her, hair tousled and only a sheet as cover but he'd already noticed that he was quickly turning into a romantic fool. "It could be our version." And so did Mary, he noted with a chuckle.
"I'd like that," he kissed her again. "Sleep now, my love. From now on, I'm watching your dreams."
With a content sigh, she shifted, practically melting into his side. "Sing it again?"
He chuckled, he was really not a good singer, but he complied nonetheless. And when his voice died and his eyes closed, they both slept peacefully until the sun came up again…
... with the promise of a glad tomorrow.
The End
Thank you so much for reading!