This is a short one shot from Bates' POV after he has been freed from prison.
Enjoy...
Free as a Bird
Bates was certain he would never get used to the disquieting finality of cold iron slamming against cold iron. Even now, dressed as a gentleman and not as a convict, he could feel a knot forming in his stomach. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he silently followed a prison guard towards the front gates. With each step the knot grew tighter, expecting someone to shout 'stop, bring him back'. But no one did. Finally the front gates loomed imposingly before him.
Almost there, he thought.
He held his breath as a guard inserted a key into the lock and turned it. For a brief moment he stood still, wondering if this was real or just a cruel dream; wondering if he was going to wake up in his dank cell, still parted from the one thing he wanted most. Anna. She was the reason he had not given up, not allowed his despair to consume him. Every time he had received a letter from her or she had sat down opposite him for that one hour each week, guilt always undermined his joy. Anna was young, beautiful, and she didn't deserve to be tied to him – not when he could never hope to give her a home, a future...children. She deserved to be with someone who could give her what he could not. Yet the thought of her loving another man, letting him hold her as he had, touching her where he had made his insides burn with bitter jealously.
"Bates, you're free to go."
The guard's impatient voice snapped Bates from his thoughts. Straightening up to his full height, he walked towards the small door within the larger gates, thankful to have his walking stick back. Nevertheless his leg throbbed, aggravated by the smallest amount of pressure, but he was not going to let that stop him – not now.
Bates took a deep breath as he stepped over the prison threshold, one foot finally on free ground. He saw a taxi waiting for him: his lordship had written to say he would send one. Suddenly a door of the taxi opened and a slender figure all but leapt from the backseat. Emotions he had fought so hard to contain whilst in prison came surging to the surface. She was here – his Anna was here. He had failed her countless times, while she had been constant, not swaying or bending, forgiving him, loving him when he had deserved to be tossed aside like an old, worthless shoe. He could live for another hundred years and still not understand why she had chosen him above any other man.
A small smile spread across his lips, growing as she returned it. And then she was running towards him. Bates' heart began to race, his pulse hammering against his throat. This time there was no table separating them, his wrists weren't bound...there were no guards to stop them. Despite the pain in his leg he moved to meet her, removing his hat as she reached him and, as her arms slipped around him, he engulfed her in his own embrace. He held her close, breathing her in, familiarising himself with the subtle hint of lavender soap mingled with the fresh country air.
Finally they let go of each other and drew back. Bates studied her face for a long moment, taking in every tiny detail. He noticed the dark circles around her eyes, despite her attempt to conceal them. A twinge of anger shot through him: he was the cause of her sleepless nights. He wondered what other troubles she had borne because of him. No doubt she had to endure snide remarks from Thomas and O'Brien – if he ever heard them demean her in his presence, he would carry out the threat he once made to Thomas and knock his teeth into the back of his head.
"Thank God," she said, her voice choked with emotion.
Bates smiled, convinced beyond belief God had caused his and Anna's paths to cross. He had been a broken man when he had come to Downton, ashamed of his past...afraid of the darkness that still lurked inside of him. Anna had changed that. She hadn't seen him as a cripple, she hadn't turned away from him when he'd revealed his sordid past and she'd forgiven him when he had cruelly broken her heart. A lesser woman would have left him to rot in his cell and found another man to warm her bed at night – but not Anna. She had stood by him through it all; no, more than that, she had refused to give up on him so easily. And he loved her all the more for it.
"Yes, thank God...and you," he said, his own voice trembling slightly.
It was all there needed to be said. Leaning forward, he kissed his wife for the first time since his trial. Longing and desperation filled him as he pressed his lips hard against hers. If only they were alone, far from prying eyes: the memory of their one night together had been enough for him in his cell, but not now. He would have to wait, though, and he would wait. Anna deserved to be loved properly, not in a hurried fumble.
When he drew back from her he was overwhelmed by the love in her eyes. His senses, his entire body felt alive. He reached out, lightly running his knuckles down her cheek. "I love you."
Anna smiled, her blue eyes regaining their former light. "I love you, too," she said, taking his hand in hers, entwining her fingers with his. "Let's go home, John."