I do not own Downton Abbey.

Thomas had just walked out of the cinema with one of his new male friends he'd been talking to for a few months now. The night had been mediocre. He was forced to compromise with his date on which movies to see. Daniel forced him to watch Innocent. It hadn't been half bad, he'd shed a tear at one point for one of the bastard children being maltreated. But the movie became tiresome after repeated pushes for feminism. He was all for women's rights, but he'd been in the mood for Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which had been out for almost a year now. He liked to identify with Holmes, as he believed the both of them had calculating minds, albeit different methods of using them.

"Oh, quit scowling. I know you survived it," the hazel-eyed brunette with a shiny white smile had said. "Besides, you got to watch yours too. And don't tell me you didn't find Basil Rathbone attractive."

Thomas kept a straight face, which made Daniel stare at him likewise in a mimicking attempt. This made Thomas break out into a laugh, as the other male knew it was impossible for him to keep a grudge for long—with him, at least.

"Do you have to go back to that oppressive manor of yours, yet? I'd go with you to introduce myself and keep company for a while, but your stories discouraged me."

Thomas forgot to mention to Daniel that basically everyone in the house was suspicious of his—err— pleasures. But it didn't matter, so Thomas nodded in agreement.

Thomas looked at his newly bought chain. "It's only 9," he said. "Let's spend an hour exploring this part of town before we go back to your place."

"Are you sure that you want to venture into the dark unknown, where we could be swallowed at any moment?" Daniel had said this only half-jokingly. There actually was a risk of finding trouble on these streets at this hour, especially for the two of them, should someone catch on to their familiarity with each other at this time of day.

"As long as I have you on my side," Thomas quipped back.

They decided to walk to a museum on the edge of town, where both of them had seen several times, but neither had stepped foot inside. Luckily, it was still open for a half hour more.

On the 15-minute walk there, Thomas and Daniel had turned around 3 times, hearing stomping on grass, the sound of shoes clacking on the pavement, then a rustle in the bushes. Each of them innocently shrugged it off both times, but on the last one, they hid behind veiled apprehension, chiding each other for worrying so much.

The museum wasn't a gallery of pieces worldwide, it was simply a showcase of the local artisans' work. However, Thomas had noted the work of one Alice Townshend, who lived close to Downton. There was a peculiar painting of a man riding a bicycle, but had such a constrained look on his face that he seemed on the verge of constipation, as Daniel quite inappropriately pointed out. He was the reason Thomas had been so happy the past few months. His incredible sense of humor lighted up his dreary life whenever he got to see him.

"I'll be right out, I'm just using the john."

"Don't get constipated," his beautiful lover said.

As Thomas was using the toilet inside, Daniel found out what those sounds behind them truly were. He was tapped on the shoulder, and jumped up. He quickly turned to face the person, and it was a man a few years younger than him, who seemed incredibly drunk. Before he could open his mouth to ask him why he was following them, he punched him in the face and dragged him behind the building, where no one could see them. Daniel waited for the moment to resist, knowing this boy was quite strong. As he loosened his grip so he could push him, he socked him in the throat and kneed him in his crotch. He began to yell for Thomas, and as he did this, the drunk person cracked his whiskey bottle over his head and thumped his face with the glass until it broke into pieces. Daniel couldn't even see, being blinded by the shards, so the defense he put up was untenable. He fell to the ground, and his assailant took out a knife, gutting him in the lung, whispering into his ear, "That's what you get for talking to him."

As he said this, Thomas had come around and pushed the attacker to the ground. He tried frantically getting a hold of him, but was only able to secure a few locks of hair, unintelligible in the night.

He actually got a good look at his companion's face for the first time. He screamed out in terror, breaking into tears. "Who did this to you?! I'll kill them! We have to get you to a hospital!"

"Listen." Daniel was gasping his last breaths of air through his one working lung. "He whispered into my ear, 'that's what you get for talking to him.' "

"When I get a hold of that sodding homophobe, I'll—"

Through immense coughs of blood, Daniel said, "He's not—a—homophobe. He mentioned you specifically. If he was trying to get both of us, he would've said associating, or fornicating. No. This man loves you. He killed me for you. But, promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Don't cling to me like most people do. Live your life. Stay Thomas."

With that, Daniel's face grew motionless. Thomas ran inside and screamed to the curator to call for a doctor and the police.

While that was being done, Thomas lay next to the body, crying his eyes out, begging the heavens for a reprisal. If they didn't give it to him, he'd be the angel of retribution. But, he promised to himself that day to kill the person who had taken away his only chance at happiness.