So, this is set in a semi-alternate season 2 where, while Lavinia came into the picture, Carlisle never did. This is then after Lavinia's exit and Matthew has not yet been told about Pamuk. This was supposed to be a one-shot but I got a bit carried away. Not sure yet whether or not I'm going to continue this, so thoughts and comments – as well as advice – is as always, heaven sent. Please excuse any spelling or grammar errors; as I am currently without a beta. *Insert all the usual disclaimers here.* Hope you enjoy!
Grey. Her whole life had descended into shades of grey. No color, no light, just grey. She ghosted the halls of the great house as if she were a lost spirit, forever denied the safety of heaven or even the comfort of death. She felt nothing. She was lost to the world, lost to the kind smiles of her mother, the sneers of her sister, and the pitying looks of her grandmother, lost to the worried glances of her kind father. On the rare occasion that a flash of color would burst through the grey, it was always blue. Not just any blue, but the beautiful ice blue found only in the eyes of the one person who could save her. But he wouldn't – of that she was sure – and when the black rushed over, she succumbed without resistance, glad to escape the grey.
Lady Mary's bell never rang that morning. When Anna walked in to find the empty bed, she forced herself to keep calm. She must have gotten up in the night and fallen asleep somewhere she told herself, trying to suppress the growing panic as she found more and more rooms empty. Giving up, Anna couldn't help but run to find Carson.
"Mr. Carson!" Anna yelled when she spotted him across the hall.
"Anna? Whatever is – "
"Lady Mary is missing. When she never rang I went up to wake her and the bed was empty. I've looked everywhere, but I can't find her." Anna looked close to tears.
"Don't worry; I'm sure she is around here somewhere," Carson assured her even though his own face had gone rather ashen, "Let's gather a few and we can look together. It will be easier that way."
After another fruitless search, Carson was forced to inform Lord Grantham. He could no longer pretend that this was a light matter.
"My Lord?" Carson said as he walked into the breakfast room looking undoubtedly frightened.
"Carson, what is it?" Robert asked, taking in Carson's expression and becoming immediately worried.
"My Lord, Lady Mary is missing. Anna told me that she wasn't in her bed this morning and we have searched the house, but she is not to be found."
Lord Grantham's knife dropped to the floor with a clatter. There was a moment of crushing silence before Robert sprung into action.
"We must find her!" he yelled, under no illusion about the gravity of this situation and sending his chair flying as he stood up. "I want every person in this house looking, every kitchen maid, and every last man. We won't stop until she is found!"
Everyone dropped whatever they were doing and began to search every cupboard and corner. As Anna looked in the library for the hundredth time, a possibility struck her. She tore from the house, streaking over the lawns and hills until she reached the very edge of the estate and the old willow came into view. The ground was sodden from a storm the night before and by the time Anna reached the old branches that brushed the ground, her boots and skirts were covered in mud. Sides heaving, she pushed her was through the leaves into the secret haven within. Lady Mary had shown her this place before, and its beauty never ceased to amaze Anna. The branches feel to the earth in a perfect circle around the trunk, completely sheltering the lucky explorer from the outside world. The sunlight streamed through the leaves, casting an eerie green light and creating dancing shadows across the earth and the lone figure that lay upon it. Anna dropped to her knees at the side of her fallen lady; tears falling as she gently pulled tangled hair from Mary's face. Her hair and gossamer nightgown were still soaked from the rain and although her exposed skin had dried in the morning sun, it had taken on a deathly grey tinge that was emphasized by her lips, which had turned blue from the cold. She drew in fragile, rattling breaths, the slight rise and fall of her chest betraying her underlying strength. Anna shook her, desperately trying to wake her. The relief she had felt upon finding Mary had been quickly over shadowed by Mary's unresponsive and frozen state.
"Lady Mary please!" she begged, "Please Mary," she whispered, forgetting formality and crying over the skeletal form of her only true friend.
"Matthew."
The name fell from Mary's lips, just barely distinguishable, and Anna's breath caught in her throat as she listened closely.
"Matthew," she mumbled again, slightly louder.
"I'll get him m'lady, I'll go get him," Anna promised her. She stood and pulled off some of her petticoats, wrapping them around Mary to leave her with at least a little warmth. Anna emerged from under the tree and looked around, deciding what to do. It only made sense to run into the village, to Crawley House. It would be quicker than going back to Downton and that's where she would find Mr. Crawley, who was perhaps the only one who could really help. Without the extra weight of her skirts, Anna ran faster than ever before, flying into the village and pounding with all of her might on the front door of Crawley House.
"Anna?" Mosely asked in surprise as he opened the door to the disheveled maid.
"Mr. Mosely you have to help me please!" she panted.
"Whatever is the matter?" Mosely asked, alarmed by Anna's desperate tone.
"Where is Mr. Crawley?"
"In the sitting room I believe. Anna what's going on?" he questioned again as she pushed in past him.
"The time for explanations is later. Quick, fetch me the warmest blankets you can find. Hurry!" she called over her shoulder as she ran off down the hall to the sitting room. She burst through the door to find Matthew and Isobel's eyes already on her, having heard the commotion in the hallway.
"Anna - ?" Mrs. Crawley started but was quickly cut off.
"Mr. Crawley sir, please you have to come right away sir," she cried.
"What's going on?" he asked, standing up.
"Here are the blankets Anna," Mosely said as he entered the room and handed Anna a large stack of thick blankets.
"Mosely do you know –?" Matthew started but was interrupted by Anna who was starting to cry again.
"There is no time to explain! Lady Mary is in danger!" she shouted. Without another word, Matthew ran from the room to get his coat, finally seeming to grasp the severity of the situation. Still breathing hard, Anna turned to face Mrs. Crawley.
"Could you send for Dr. Clarkson and tell him to go to Downton?"
"Of course dear," Mrs. Crawley replied.
"And could you tell him that if Mr. Crawley and I are not yet back, we will be shortly?"
"Right away."
"Thank you, m'lady." With that, Anna turned and flew out of the room, meeting Matthew by the front door.
"Let's go," Matthew said.
"This way," Anna answered and they ran out. Back through the village, ignoring all the questioning looks, and back through the fields they sprinted while Anna tried to briefly explain.
"This morning, when I went in to wake Lady Mary," she panted, "she wasn't in her bed. We looked everywhere; everyone in the house was searching. Then I remembered this place on the edge of the grounds that she was fond of hiding away in so I ran out and there she was; unconscious in the dirt and dressed in only her nightgown, freezing to death. She was so far from the house it was faster to come to you, and sir, your name was the only response I could get from her."
"Oh my god," Matthew breathed.
Just then Anna fell down due to the blankets obscuring her vision. Matthew stopped to help but she raised her head and told him to go on.
"I'll catch up. She is just over the hill, under the big willow tree – you can't miss it. Go!"
Finally knowing where he was going, Matthew took off as if the Germans were once again at his heels; except this time, he was protecting someone else instead of himself. Hurtling towards the willow with incredible speed, he crashed through the branches and skid to a stop in front of Mary, dropping to his knees at her side. She looked other worldly, swathed in white cotton; hair matted and dirty, lips a delicate shade of blue. Even like this, her beauty made his heart skip a beat. He pulled her up into his arms and tucked her head into his chest as it rolled back, shivering as his fingers brushed he icy skin. He rocked her in his arms and listened to her faint breathing, murmuring soft apologies and casting a silent prayer. He knew he could have prevented this and now all that was left was to beg the limp girl in his arms to give him another chance. Anna arrived moments later and they immediately set to work cocooning Mary in the blankets, wrapping her almost as if she were a baby.
"Are these skirts?" Matthew asked as he repositioned the cotton.
"Yes sir. She was only in her nightgown and I had to provide some warmth, if only a little. It was all I had."
"I'm impressed."
Once she was sufficiently wrapped, Matthew lifted her in his arms and his heart soared as she snuggled in closer to his chest.
"Anna, run ahead and warn them. Make sure everything is ready," Matthew said.
"Yes sir." She answered before taking off. Matthew watched her, admiring her loyalty to Mary. Even swathed in blankets, Mary was alarmingly light and Matthew walked as fast as he could whilst trying not to jostle her. Looking down at her, he couldn't help but compare her to a fallen angel. She was his fallen angel. He pressed on.
"Matthew."
He looked down in disbelief coupled with elation as Mary's eyes fluttered open and met his own.
Everything was blurry and distorted as she fought against the weight of her eyelids, desperately trying to bring the face above her into focus. As the lines sharpened, she took in his face, creased with worry but still smiling, and those crystal blue eyes. She welcomed the warmth surrounding her and tried a faint smile when it dawned on her that she was nestled safely in his arms. His mouth was moving but she couldn't hear him, she seemed to be lost within her own body, unable to reach her senses. Strangely though, this didn't really alarm her. She simply contented herself to watching his lips move and relaxing against his inviting form, enjoying the gentle sway of his stride. He stopped talking and looked at her expectantly for a moment before his brow creased with worry again. At first Mary was confused; why was he so worried when she was perfectly happy? But then she realized - he was waiting for a reply to whatever he said. She concentrated hard to find her voice and spoke the only word that she could call to the front of her mind.
"Matthew," she whispered, surprised at how weak her voice sounded. Speaking seemed to flip a switch inside her, so that when he spoke again she could hear him properly.
"Mary," he breathed, the sweetest sound in the world, "I believe you've caused quite a commotion," he told her, smiling and trying not to reveal the gravity of the situation. His words confused her again; her mind could only process what was going on around her at that exact moment, like the fact that she was warm and in his arms. Unsure what to say but wanting to reply all the same, Mary focused on voicing the only coherent thought running through her mind.
"I'm very happy… that you are… with me," she murmured. Matthew could see the amount of effort she put into choosing her words and smiled at the enormous meaning behind them. She smiled back at him, and it was the most honest and unguarded look she had ever bestowed upon him. Never before had he seen such blatant affection from her, for the first time, nothing was obscured or hidden behind those big brown eyes. It was a simple gesture, but that made it even sweeter. Her smile grew as she watched his brow soften, pleased that she had alleviated some of the sorrow in his handsome features. Mary shivered against him as a cold gust of wind blew across them and Matthew looked up to see the Abbey coming into view. Stepping up his pace again, he looked back down to see that Mary had closed her eyes again.
"Stay with me," she mumbled and Matthew tightened his grip on her as she fell asleep. Looking towards the house, Matthew could see Lord Grantham, Anna and Carson all waiting on the front steps of the house. Lord Grantham ran out as soon as he saw them.
"Oh my baby," he nearly cried looking at Mary's face whilst keeping pace with Matthew as he crossed the last yards to the house with fierce determination.
"Show me where to put her," he said as he crossed the threshold.
"Right this way," a very harried looking Carson replied before leading him up the main stairs and what seemed like endless hallways, until he finally ushered them into Mary's bedroom. Matthew gently lay her down on the bed before collapsing into a nearby chair, feeling the pain set into his back. Lord Grantham brought up Dr. Clarkson who had been waiting in the library, and in the ensuing flurry of action, no one noticed Matthew remaining in his place. He took the opportunity to look around the room. It was very grand, furnished with deep, rich colors and dominated by a four-poster bed in the center. The décor suggested a strong character and great power, exactly right for Mary. Anna had set to work putting her into a clean, warm nightgown (Matthew honorably averted his eyes) and got her under the covers with a practiced skill that worried Matthew. How many times had she done this? Dr. Clarkson preformed a few tests without disturbing her sleep, with very worrying results, and then tried to wake her. It was to no avail, however, and all he succeeded in getting out of Mary was a terrible coughing fit. Dr. Clarkson sighed.
"What is it?" Matthew asked, speaking for the first time and startling the doctor.
"Mr. Crawley, I didn't realize that you were still here. Come down, I will tell the whole family together," he replied. Matthew didn't budge as Clarkson walked towards the door.
"I'm not leaving her. Tell me now," Matthew practically commanded, not bothering to be polite. The doctor closed his eyes and said quietly, "Spanish flu," and listened to Matthew and Anna's sharp intake of breath before walking out and closing the door behind him. Matthew's eyes met Anna's and saw his own terror clearly reflected in her own eyes, standing motionless on the other side of the bed. Those two words had shattered what little he had left in him, rendering him completely speechless. They stared at each other in wordless fear for what seemed like an eternity until they heard a shriek from downstairs.
"Dr. Clarkson must have told them," Anna whispered in response to the scream. Matthew could only nod. Anna's head snapped down to Mary as she began to toss and turn restlessly. Sweat began to drip down Mary's face and Anna quickly set about getting a cloth to cool her down. As she came back with the cloth, she saw Matthew's helpless face and offered it to him.
"Would you like to sir?"
"Yes," Matthew answered, seeming to take comfort in the idea of actually doing something to help, "thank you Anna."
With a small smile, Anna bobbed her head and began to move about the room while Matthew pulled his chair over to the edge of the bed and gently started to wipe her face.
"Thank you for coming to me," Matthew said quietly. Anna paused and looked up, meeting his eyes,
"I couldn't have trusted anyone else."
Matthew looked down to see Mary's fingers brushing against his own. He took a hold of her hand, glancing up to meet blurry eyes staring back at him. He gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster, faltering slightly as she drew in a rattling breath.
"Matthew…" she breathed.
"Shhh, darling," Matthew leaned in closer.
"Matthew don't leave me," she rasped as her eyes fell shut again.
"Don't worry, I won't," he whispered, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.
"Good," she mumbled, weakly returning the squeeze.
"I will never leave you again," Matthew promised, but Mary was already gone.
TBC?
Aren't you just itching to press that cute little review button…?
