I've written an additional story for the Anna/Bates fanfic family. I am still working on my first, "How the Story Unfolds", but I had a burst of inspiration to do this and I couldn't stop. Its almost all completely written, about seven chapters.
To understand John and his decisions of 2X01, I felt I needed to explore the weeks leading up to that episode, including Vera's visit and Mrs. Bates' death.
I hope you enjoy. We start with a prologue, a glimpse of Anna and John's relationship before he comes back to propose. He's slightly OOC. Perhaps too open to dialogue than his usual reserved self.
I do not own any of the characters of Downton Abbey. Julian Fellowes and Carnival own them and it is solely their fault that we are plunged in a dark world waiting for Season 3 and the redemption of one encarcerated John. Free Bates!
Anna and Mr. Bates sat in the courtyard as they usually did on summer nights. It was past their usual bedtime, but the breeze was mild and inviting and the conversation light and jovial. Neither wanted to end such a perfect night of happy companionship, and thus, they stayed, talking of everything and nothing. She had a way of making everything better, he noted. There was nothing remarkable happening at Downton these days. The country was plunged in the middle of a nasty war, there were fewer men available at the estate and the news that was coming from the front was not very encouraging, but, at the same time, things at the great house had never been calmer. That is, at least for him and her. They were perched on a crate and she prattled on about some inconsequential happening between Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore and laughed ever so sweetly. Narrated by anyone else in the house, the tale might have been overlooked as too trivial to partake in, but, coming from her, it was highly entertaining and always witty. He always paid attention. It was days like this that he lived for – the quiet company of someone so perfect, so cheerful, so delightful. They were so good together, he mused. Lately, he had resorted to holding her hands and today was no different than any other day. This was what little physical contact he allowed and hers were warm and smooth and felt perfect intertwined in his.
He often thought of and dreamt what it would be like if they were really a couple. They already shared an emotional intimacy, Anna knowing more about him than most others ever had in his lifetime. She had looked past all of it - his deficiencies, his mistakes and his demons and still sought him out. He knew all about her fears, the things that made her sad and her few, but existent, shortcomings. He longed for the physical intimacy, but kept his space. He wanted to kiss her, hold her closely, whisper words of love into her ear, but he controlled himself severely, fully aware that Anna had so much more to lose than he did. She trusted him completely; loved him unconditionally and would give in to whatever he wanted or suggested. Without any hope of fixing his situation with Vera, he could not and would not take her down any path that did not lead to marriage. His deep love for her would dictate his honorability.
As a young man, he had been hot-blooded and would have jumped at the opportunity to bamboozle such a lovelorn lass. He couldn't now fathom what little consideration he had for the young women he'd conned into less than proper situations. He used so many of them and had no regard for them afterwards. Just remembering still made him quiver. How his conscious deteriorated so quickly was quite unbelievable. One month he was quartered at St. Anthony's seminary for men, considering the priesthood, and the next month, he couldn't be dragged out of the local pub, immersed in all sort of vices. Yes, his descent had been quick and he shuddered to think that if he'd met Anna back then, he wouldn't have spared her and she would have been met with the same fate as the others, including Vera. Vera resisted longer than the average girl, but in the end, he'd had her too and perhaps because it did take him longer to convince her, he allowed himself to be pulled into the charade of saving her honor. No, he would never be that man again. Not ever.
He was quite strict with his behavior, but he smiled to himself and remembered mischievously that he'd stolen a kiss once, almost six months ago. He ached for any contact with her and had made it seem like a happy mistake. She was fussing with the lapel of his jacket, as some lint or fuzz had settled there. She had leaned in to make sure it was really gone. He had leaned in to see what she was fussing about. In that instant, both had turned in opposite directions, their lips barely touching. They lingered and he moved in for a quick, chaste peck. He grinned and said sorry with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "What was that, John Bates?", she had exclaimed just as mischievously, as she smacked him playfully and laughed. It had not been a mistake, but was too quick to fuel any of their pent up desires and they were in a place not conducive to make it go any further. Her lips had been so soft and he longed to do it again, but true to his word, he never did. All he could do was let himself imagine that if they really were a couple, they would spend their leisurely time like this. They would laugh and share stories; they would sometimes kiss or embrace, but always together, always supporting each other. As always, it was nothing more than a dream.
When she finished her story and changed the topic he focused on her again.
"Mr. Bates, how is your mother these days? Have you heard from her?
Anna was always asking about her and he could see that a warm affection had been developed by both women. They'd actually met twice – the first time she'd gone on her own and they had repeated the visit a year later when the family had traveled to London for the first season after the war. It wasn't really a season because all the men had gone away, but they were there enough days to allow them to plan a joint visit. It had been short, but it was the catalyst needed for the two women to come to an undeclared understanding of their roles in his life and he couldn't be happier that it morphed into a respectful and tender bond. He was aware that ever so often, they even exchanged simple letters. Anna had shown him once and they were full of unpretentious and uncomplicated topics.
"I had a letter just yesterday. She's been a little ill and that has me worried. I have a mind to go see her soon."
Anna rubbed his knuckles in reassurance with her dainty little fingers. "I'm sorry to hear that. She didn't tell me. Was she ill when you visited last month?"
"Not ill, really. I saw her more tired than usual and out of breath and it was harder for her to get around. I am much thankful for the nurse that comes to see her every day. I would be much more worried if she was alone with no one to look in on her."
"Doesn't her neighbor check up on her too?"
"Yes, so I know that even if she doesn't want to fuss or let me know that she's not well, Mrs. Garvey will let me know."
"Good." She paused and after sensing his worry added, "You're a good son, you know. My brothers aren't nearly as aware of my mum's needs as you are of hers."
"I wasn't a good son for many years. I was horrible. I will forever regret what I put her through."
"But you are a good son now and she knows it. When we visited last season, I could see how much she adores you. When you left us alone, all she could talk about was you. She is so proud of the man you have become. You should have seen her beam. The way she was talking about you, any stranger would have thought her son was valet to King George himself."
He chuckled at her musing. She had used the slightly cynical tone she so often employed in conversation when she was purposefully trying to make him laugh. It always worked. He understood that she was trying to steer him away from feeling too melancholy.
He acquiesced to her subtle methods and added, "My mother inquired about you too."
"Oh really? How so? What did she say?"
Anna was curious to know what the sweet old lady thought of her. Anna showed restraint in their letters, not wanting to seem overly anxious or silly, but she was very keen in receiving them. She loved the dear old lady and thought that they were somewhat kindred spirits. She'd never confessed and the topic had never been spoken between them, but both women knew what the other was in the life of John Bates and that was enough to bring them together. No words needed to be spoken.
"My mother is quite fond of you."
"I am fond of her", she repeated.
"Her actual words were – 'How is that golden beauty of yours? I will always see her as your darling, sweet Anna.' She added that you radiate sunshine, kindness and love wherever you are and hopes you are well."
Mr. Bates enjoyed seeing how Anna reacted to this description of herself.
"Oh my. Maybe she is ill. She could not have called me that!" Anna exclaimed, quite embarrassed as a blush crept up her cheeks and quickly flushed her face. Her eyes were wide open with a look that could only be described as half horror – half elation. She laughed nervously.
"She did. You have caused quite an impression on her. I can show you the letter tomorrow." Mr. Bates grinned enthusiastically, quite enjoying that he had outwitted Anna into this state.
Anna turned to look at him, still flushed and nervous. She shifted to her eyes down once again and played momentarily with the buttons on her dress, gaining courage to tell him something. She was looking for affirmation from him, something he was not very good at giving. Courage attained, she looked straight his eyes and started, "Am I…." she paused, "….your darling, sweet Anna?" She held his gaze, her eyes imploring him to be truthful.
He realized he had walked straight into this trap, but it was all his doing, as had been the one to utter his mother's words. He could not avoid answering and didn't want to. They weren't a couple and this was delving perilously close to where he didn't want to be, but, she deserved that affirmation. He could never specifically say that he loved her, but, maybe this was close enough and could communicate how precious she really was to him. He could allow this he thought, and without thinking further, he pulled her forward into an embrace and lovingly placed his arms around her middle. She positioned the palms of her hands directly on his chest and her head fit right above them. She was thrilled at the close contact and snuggled her head against his heart as it beat. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, sighed momentarily and confessed, "Yes, you are".
A/N I hope you like enough to grant me a review. :)