WARNING: Spoilers for series 2
Disclaimer: Not that I think Julian Fellowes will ever read this, but… Not mine.
A.N.: This takes place in series 2 episode 2, when Mrs. Hughes is taking up a tray to Mr. Carson's room after he's taken ill and finds Lady Mary there. Ever since I saw this scene, I wanted to write something with it; the fact that Mrs. Hughes did not knock before entering his bedroom intrigued me way more than it should.
X
She waited for a moment to be certain Lady Mary was out of earshot before saying:
"I am sorry for entering without knocking first. Force of habit, I suppose. I did not know Lady Mary would be here" she offered him a small smile.
"That is quite alright" he propped himself up, holding up his hand to stop her when she moved to help him "Do I absolutely have to?" he asked, looking at the medicine vial in her hand.
"Mr. Carson! I could mistake you for a little spoiled child, for all the whining you have been doing lately!" she said mockingly and moved around his bed, sitting on the chair next to him, medicine in hand.
He gave her one last wearily look before taking the vial from her hand and drinking it in one single gulp.
"Nasty stuff" he handed it back to her.
"Where would be the fun in it if it tasted like berries?" she said, mildly annoyed "There is no use in complaining. You ought to have been taking better care of yourself" she leaned over him to adjust his pillows in an automatic manner.
"Don't give me that look"
"What look?"
"The I-told-you-so look"
She sat back down and sighed tiredly "I wouldn't give you that look if you had listened to me in the first place"
"Oh, Elsie" he grabbed her hand with both of his "I am sorry. I did not realize that my being sick would affect you"
"Of course it affects me!" she spat, angrily, taking her hand from his and standing up, moving to the window "For God's sake, Charles! How do you think I felt when Mr. Crawley came running into my sitting room, saying there was something wrong with you? How do you think I felt when I saw you in the dining room? For a moment I thought…" she choked back a sob "I thought I would never see you again." She whispered; she was not used to these kinds of admittances "And all I could do was keep a straight face and manage the staff. Pretend it was not eating me alive not knowing if you would be all right. So, yes, Charles, in case you were wondering, your being sick does affect me quite a bit."
For a moment he just looked at her, dumbfounded, not having expected the sudden outburst. She finally gave up of what seemed an eternity of waiting for him to say something, and laughed bitterly, turning his back to him and staring out the window. Minutes dragged on, but none of the two occupants of the room said anything, even though both knew a few things should be said.
"How in the world could you think it wouldn't affect me?" Her whisper echoed in the quiet room, her words seemed to bounce off the walls and hit him square in the face "How?"
He sighed deeply "I'm sorry. I didn't think it…"
"Of course you didn't think" she spat.
He kept silent, not wanting to further upset her.
"We haven't been on the best of terms lately, have we?"
There was nothing he could say to that; it was the absolute truth.
"Sometimes I wonder if…" she trailed off, suddenly unsure of herself, suddenly tired.
"If what?" he asked quietly.
"If you even…" a sob interrupted her words, but he understood her perfectly.
"Elsie" he closed his eyes, feeling like a coward for not wanting to see her pain "How can you think that?" he mirrored her words from earlier "How can you think I don't love you anymore?"
"Quite easily, when you've barely looked at me in the last couple of months" she finally turned back to him. With a pang in his heart that had nothing to do with his near heart attack, he noticed her eyes were brimmed with tears.
Months. She was right. It had been months since the last time he properly looked at her, let alone touched her. He suddenly noticed the bags under her eyes, the exhaustion reflected in them, the lines on her face that had not been there two months ago. A wave of guilt washed over him; he had been the cause of all her worries lately. Had not he vowed to always take care of her, always protect, and never neglect?
Before he could say anything, she continued: "I found this on your desk this morning. Please put it back on" she showed him the long silver chain "It makes me nervous knowing you're not wearing it"
Charles took the chain from her, hanging it around his neck, where it had been for years. The chain was just long enough to be hidden by his pyjamas, but instead of tucking it underneath his shirt, as he usually did, he toyed with the golden band hanging from it for a moment.
"Elsie" he said, softly, and heard her sharp intake of breath. He had not said her name like that in quite a while, he admitted to himself "I love you. I loved you when I put that ring on your finger, I've loved you in the ten years since then, and I'll love you for the next ten or more"
It was not something either of them said often. After so many years together, they didn't feel the need to be reassuring the other in that way. A habit they would have to break, he thought grimly, looking at her. Even though she was clearly trying to suppress a smile, he sensed she was not ready to give in just yet.
"You may not have ten more years in you if you keep overworking yourself like this" she admonished, but he chose to ignore it.
"I won't fall apart if you touch me, you know," he said with more than a hint of teasing in his voice.
Hesitatingly, she walked over to his bed and stood next to it, not sure what to do, as if she had not spent countless nights in it, wrapped in his embrace.
Sensing her discomfort that probably streamed from not having been in his room for longer than was healthy in a marriage, he held out both his hands to her. It was all the encouragement she needed. The tension in the room ebbed away as she practically leapt into his arms, resting her head on the crook of his neck.
"Don't leave me" she said to his chest "I don't know how to be alone anymore"
For a few minutes, apologies and words of love were whispered, before a comfortable silence fell upon the couple. He felt her body relaxing against his for the first time in months, as well as her smiling into his chest. He kissed her forehead, silently assuring her he would hold her through the night; saying without words that, since he couldn't have her days, he would at least always, always have her nights.
X
A.N.: That scene just screamed "SECRETLY MARRIED". But then again, what Carson/Hughes scene doesn't?