Author's Note: I wanted to try something a bit different after reading through other fanfics for Bates and Anna (Banna). Bates is usually the injured party that seems to be struggling but rather than having him uphold his ethical code because he cares to much for others I thought I'd have him not care at all. So some of you may get the Johnny Cash reference in here. I'm from the U.S. so I tried to write their accents as best I could and will make every effort to get this as close to accurate as possible. There will be a bit of angst in here, but I promise to sprinkle fluff in as well. All reviews are welcome (good or bad) and I'll accept suggestions. You never know I may try to write for it if you throw one out there that I like. Anna isn't in this section yet, but I promise some sweet stuff is coming.

Also I don't own anything of Downton Abbey, all credit to Julian Fellowes. If I had my way it would be the Anna/Bates and Carson/Hughes variety hour 24/7.

Chapter 1

Humble Beginnings

"Do you understand these rules as I have stated them Mr. Bates", the judge asked, his words hanging in the air and echoing in the large court room. John just stood there silently almost in a daze; he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit hung over. That's part of what landed him in this situation in the first place. The judge asked him again and this time his temples were throbbing with each syllable, his eyes were squinting in the sunlight that was coming in through one of the adjacent windows. Meanwhile he was trying his hardest to remember what his lawyer, Mr. Murray had told him to do earlier if the judge asked him to speak. "Mr. Bates will you please remove your sunglasses and answer my question before I decide to hold you in contempt of court?" the judge asked.

John half smiled as he thought to himself, "Would being held in contempt of court really be so bad?"

Mr. Murray finally elbowed him in the side as he muttered under his breath, "Jesus Christ, John you aren't helping the situation any. Stand up and take off your sun glasses." John finally rose from his chair and winced a little anticipating the ever increasing glare of the sun that would be burning into his eyes once he removed the glasses. Once the sun glasses were removed the judge and everyone else sitting before him could see the black eye that John had acquired; still somewhat swollen and a deep shade of purple. He now found himself grimacing even more with the sun glaring he fought the urge to shut his eyes and that only made his swollen eye hurt more.

By all accounts, even with the black eye he was still a good looking man. Sure he was no prize stud as he had been back in his youth, but he still had his hair slicked back, his boyish grin, piercing hazel eyes, and a fairly muscular build. His body had seen better days as he had lost a lot of weight recently but had yet to tone up his muscles. As a result, his black suit hung loosely on his frame. When Mr. Murray had seen him the day before to run through all the possible outcomes of the hearing he encouraged him to wear a better fitting suit; preferably in a lighter color. But John had simply told him he wasn't there to impress anyone. To which Mr. Murray had argued, "Your right, it's only your life on the line."

John tried to think back to how he had reached this point in his life; he supposed he could blame it all on Thomas Barrow but he knew that was just the tip of the iceberg. John had been walking a fine line for a while and new that this had been a long time coming. As he tried to pin point the moment that everything had really begun to fall apart he was brought back from his deep thoughts when Mr. Murray nudged him once more. "Well, answer the man John", Mr. Murray encouraged in a low whisper.

"I'm sorry. Can you repeat the question?" John replied back to the judge. The tone of his voice was bordering between sarcasm and innocence. Deep down John knew he was pushing his limits, but that was nothing new to him. He had nothing to lose…not anymore at least. He had no wife, no children, his parents had both been deceased for some time and he had no real friends; except for Robert of course. He turned back to look at his old friend who had somehow managed to look past all his bullshit and shenanigans and still stood by his side. Robert did his best to muster a half smile and encouraged him to turn back around before he got himself into deeper trouble with the judge.

Finally the elderly judge, with his small stature had lost his patience and his voice boomed in the court room, "Mr. Bates!"

John held up his hands as if to surrender, "Yes, your honor. I understand the rules. "

Now it was the judge's turn to play with John, to put him back in his place, "Now repeat them back to me."

John took a deep breath and squinting once more as he tried to avoid the sun he looked up at the judge, "I am not to engage in any illegal substances, I must attend AA meetings, I need to perform 100 hours of community service…and…" John paused for a long time as he thought about what the last one was, it wasn't that he forgot. It was that out of all of them he knew it would be the hardest to do. He took another deep breath, "…and I'm required to check in with a court appointed therapist until I get permission to return to work on the rig. " As John ran through the mental checklist he was forming in his head he quickly thought to himself the first would be the easiest; he had never engaged in any type of narcotics. Sure he had taken the occasional pain pill as a chaser with a good scotch to numb the pain, but nothing more than that. In his mind the rest were bullshit; particularly the third one. He was a firefighter; his life was community service. As if putting his life on the line on a daily basis wasn't enough. The job takes a toll on everyone, so what if he indulged in a little drinking every now and again? And sure he could be known to get a little hot headed but he was Irish, wasn't it his birth right to get mad if he wanted too? Alright, so he knew that last one was a horrible stereotype and had any other person uttered it to him; he probably would have punched them in the jaw for making such an assumption. The fact that he couldn't fight fires or ride on the rig until some court appointed therapist, who knew nothing about firefighting, said so was completely out of line.

But John did as Mr. Murray had instructed he accepted the conditions with a forced smile and took his seat once more. He looked over at Mr. Barrow in the courtroom who had a black eye, a fat lip, and scar above his eye brow and this time he didn't have to feign happiness. The smug bastard had had it coming after the way he had been egging him on all these years. It almost made this entire legal headache worth it.

"Mr. Bates…" he heard his name once more from the judge and looked up to acknowledge the elderly man, "I hope you know I am not normally this lenient. Under normal circumstances I would have sent you to jail and wouldn't have batted an eye. But the fact that Chief Crawley over here spoke so highly of you led me to believe you are capable of being better than you are now. That and the fact that there were no witnesses to see who instigated this little bout between yourself and Mr. Barrow. But seeing as how he seems to have gotten the better part of a beating he will not be subjected to the same punishment. I think his pride will suffer enough." John was disappointed he wasn't facing the same fate as himself, but the judge had a point. John laughed to himself, knowing that whenever someone asked Thomas about his injuries he would have to explain that he'd gotten too big for his britches and had over stepped a line. The scar above his eye brow would hopefully be a reminder to Thomas that he wasn't as untouchable as he would like people to believe he was. The judge continued to lecture him, "I do hope that this will be the last time you grace me with your presence Mr. Bates. You are required to follow these rules for one year. If at any time your therapist or AA sponsor feels that you are not complying with the rules you will serve out the remainder of your time in jail. "

"Yes sir," John replied trying to sound respectful.

"Very well then," the judge eyed him suspiciously noting the change in the tone of his voice as John suddenly seemed more cooperative. "Court is adjourned, please see the court clerk on the way out to get your therapist assigned to you," the judge said as he pounded his gavel.

John collected his things and even though it pained him to do so he winked at Thomas on the way out of the court room. Thomas was taken aback and his jaw hung open, he couldn't believe the balls on Mr. Bates.

"Thank you for your help today Mr. Murray," John said as he gave the lawyer a pat on the back. He then proceeded to button up his suit jacket and place the sunglasses back on. John turned to Robert, "So celebratory drinks on me." Robert shook his head and was about to interject when John said, "Robert, I'm kidding. I heard what the judge said."

"Good, because I had to cash in every favor I had up my sleeve to get you that sentence. The board for the fire department was ready to throw you on your ass for your wild behavior," Robert scolded.

John straightened his tie as he winked at the court reporter passing them by, "Oh, Rob, you flatter me." He knew that Robert hated when he called him by his childhood name, but he was hoping it would send the message that he was in no mood for a speech now. "Look I got to go check in with the lady at the front desk, we can grab lunch after," John said.

"Eager to start your therapy?" Robert asked.

"Oh, I was actually hoping to just get her number. But good point old man, kill two birds with one stone," he said with a smirk as headed for the door. Robert shook his head as he watched his friend walk off. He hated seeing John like this; he never used to be this way. But he knew there was no point in trying to change his course of direction, John would just make it a point to fight harder and travel in the opposite direction.

At lunch John was fighting the urge to order a beer. It wasn't so much that he was an alcoholic; he never drank on the job. But when he was off the clock he had preferred to drown himself in booze and the occasional pain pill. The habitual drinking had started not long after he returned from the war…the pills would come later. At first he had needed them for the pain but after a while it had become something to numb himself, drown out the memories, and take the edge off. He found that when he combined the two together he could avoid dreaming all together. Sometimes the night time was worse than the day time. But, he didn't want to dwell on that. He had lived the sober life before; he could do it again he thought to himself.

With his long face, black suit, and hair slicked back in pomade he looked like Johnny Cash and Robert couldn't help but grin at his friend. "Didn't Mr. Murray advise you to wear a lighter colored suit?" Robert asked, but he already knew the answer to his question.

"I don't own any suits in any other colors," John replied evenly.

"You could have always borrowed one of mine," Robert suggested, "although with the weight you've lost you probably would have been swimming in it."

"I like black…" John said. He took another bite of his food before he continued, "…it fits my mood, don't you think?"

Roberts smile faded, "It's just I think Mr. Murray was hoping it would help your chance to get a lighter sentence. It would give the impression that you were more likable and not so…"

Before Robert could finish his sentence he was cut off by John, "Sooooo… what? So much of an arse?" He had answered so quickly that his Irish brogue had made itself more evident than usual.

"No, I didn't say that," Robert hurriedly began to back pedal.

"Are you saying I'm not likable, Rob?" John accused with a serious face.

For a minute Robert thought he was serious and was going to defend himself but then he saw the crinkle in the corners of John's eyes and knew he was joking. He playfully punched John in the side of the arm, "For a minute there you had me going. I only meant that you don't always have to dress and look like you are going to a funeral, John."

"Maybe I am," John replied nonchalantly. Robert didn't care for that comment. Robert knew life had not been kind to his friend and when he looked in John's eyes he saw a broken man and sometimes he had to wonder if John would seriously take his life. Though John seemed to be ever the calm, quiet person his hands were fidgeting. John could really go for a smoke right about now. It wasn't something he did often but it was something he had done in the past when he was extremely stressed. But he figured if he was going to be giving up booze he might as well give up smoking too. Robert frowned when he noticed the erratic movements of his hands. He would have reached out and held his hand to comfort him if he knew John would let him. But John wasn't that type of person; he didn't like to be pitied and he preferred not to bother others with his troubles. John followed the gaze of Robert's eyes and acted as if it was nothing as he raised the shaking hand to run his fingers through his hair.

Robert finally set his silver wear down and swallowed his last bite of steak as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "You know I'm pulling for you right Bates?" he asked. John stopped chewing his food for a moment and nodded his head in agreement. "You could always stay in one of the spare rooms. I'm sure Cora would love to have you over now that the girls have all moved out," Robert suggested. John shook his head and raised a single finger wagging it back and forth in a "no" motion. "What will you do then?" Robert asked. Robert waited for an answer as he saw the gears in Bates' head moving around trying to sort out a plan. Robert put a stop to it when he reminded John, "I can't put you on a rig, you know the board won't let me bend the rules and you can't sleep at the fire house unless you are on the clock."

"So I'll work," John replied calmly.

"And do what? Check hoses? Tidy the floor? Perform kitchen duty?" Robert looked at his friend hoping to elicit a response. John just continued to eat his food as if Robert's words held no meaning. As Chief of the fire house Robert was always trying to encourage the men that everyone's work there was equally important, but being realistic he knew better. "John, that's probie work. That's Alfred and Jimmy's job, not yours."

John was not moved by this at all, "Alfred was a soldier much like I was. I have no problem helping him out with performing simple tasks around the fire house."

"But Jimmy wasn't a soldier," Robert argued.

There was a long awkward silence between them before John finally said, "Look, I can't just sit at home Robert. I'd be crawling out of my skin and bored out of my mind. If its pay you are worried about I'd do it for free."

"It's not the pay I'm worried about. I'm worried about you," Robert said as he slammed his fist down on the table. Some of the restaurant patrons turned to look over at them and John faked a smile to ease their minds. When they returned to their normal business Robert continued, "You need a break from the fire house Bates. I can't have another outburst between you and Barrow, or I'll be forced to let you go." This time Robert was pleading with him, John would never understand why Robert tried so hard to help him. Everyone else had given up on him so easily.

"I'll work a different shift then or different days," John argued. "I can't just sit around doing nothing when good men like William aren't here to do it anymore…it wouldn't be fair," John finished. John lowered his head after that and said nothing more as he pushed around the food on his plate.

Robert could see he was getting nowhere with him and the last time he had brought up William things got ugly fast. "Look, I know you've never been one to kiss ass unless you absolutely had to. But, I know what being a firefighter means to you. I also know that right now the world is giving you a second chance so don't muck this up. Just try to keep your nose clean, see this therapist that they've assigned and who knows, maybe they can help you." John shook his head in dismay, the thought of it all made him sick to his stomach and he lost his appetite. He quickly pushed the plate away and began drinking some water. He felt as though he were sweating through his suit and his tie seemed to be strangling him. "Bates, I want to see you back on that rig as much as you do. Although you are a bit reckless when it comes to your choices in the field, there's no one else I'd rather have fighting alongside me or out there with my boys", Robert said with a smile.

"You sure about that?" John asked coolly.

"I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't", Robert replied quickly. It almost made him choke up. John knew there weren't a lot of people he cared about in his life and most of those he had cared about were gone. He knew it was one of those reckless decisions Robert had mentioned earlier that had allowed him to save his friend's life. Robert never forgot that; he understood that John didn't play by the rules and he wasn't much of a team player. These were dangerous traits for a fire fighter; but his instincts made him a natural and one of the best fire fighters Robert had ever met.

John got up from his seat and removed his jacket; he threw it over his shoulder and held it there with the one hand. "Where you off to now?" Robert asked.

Sliding the sunglasses back on he reached into his pocket and began to pull out money to pay for the meal but Robert motioned his hand to stop him. "I'll see you on Monday at the fire house Chief," John said as he held out his hand to shake it. "Give my love to Cora and the girls," John said as he did his best to offer a smile.

"I will. If you give me a moment to pay the bill I can give you a ride home," Robert offered as he shook his hand.

"Don't you remember Chief? I don't have one," John said and Robert brow furrowed, "Besides the fresh air will do me good."

"Think about what I said Bates!" Robert called after him as he headed out the door.

"Yeah, yeah," John muttered to himself as he waved over his shoulder.