He was getting out of prison next month. It had been a long and hard two years, but he had come out the other side intact. Better than that, actually. He'd come out in good shape. Even though the nightmares had never left for long and his knee appeared to be getting worse, mentally he was as strong as ever, as strong as he'd ever been.

Having finally realized he needed to let go of any illusions of having a good life, he had settled on the idea of at least trying for a decent one. After long ago learning to guard against sentiment, he was operating on a strictly rational level now.

Peters stood outside of the locked cell door, asking Bates what he planned to do when he got out. Bates didn't have an answer. The truth was he didn't really know what he was going to do. Go home to mam, he guessed. Vera had made good on her promise, disappearing on the wind, and he had given up any thoughts of her. He couldn't afford to think of her, it just hurt too much and interfered with his ability to stay away from emotion.

Peters was getting tired of waiting for an answer. "You remember anything from the war?" he inquired. What a loaded question, thought Bates, since he found it difficult to think much of anything else.

"What specifically about the war are you asking," Bates replied, finally looking directly at Peters.

"Our commander, Crawley, he was called, or Grantham now, I guess."

"Not likely I'd forget him, would I," remarked Bates, glancing down at his leg.

"Right," returned Peters, "so stupid of me."

"That's okay," Bates said dismissively, not wanting to invite the memories in, "why do you ask?"

"Well," Peters pushed on, "he's inherited now, the land and the title. I've heard through the servant's grapevine there was a small theft there, cufflinks, I think. Watson, the valet, took off with them. The family didn't want to bring any charges, no doubt to avoid the scandal, but it has left the Lord without a valet. Since you were his batman, I figured, well, you know...," Peters offered.

Bates laughed humourlessly. "Not likely he'd want an ex-con for a valet, would he?"

"You could write to him. Use my home address so he wouldn't know where you've been for the last two years," Peters remarked, looking him in the eye, the implication clear.

"My knee...," Bates trailed off, subconsciously reaching down to rub his injury. Could he manage it, he wondered.

Peters shrugged, whispering conspiratorially, he suggested, "It could be a fresh start, Bates."

A fresh start, Bates thought, he could get what he'd been wanting for a while now. Over the last two years he'd learned how to keep his head down, control his temper, avoid revealing anything, and to get on with his life. This could offer a way to continue that. He made a decision.

"Okay, Peters, I'll do it. And, thanks, I appreciate all you've done while I've been here. I know you had to be careful, what you've risked, and I can't thank you enough."

"I don't ever want to see you back in here," Peters told him.

"Nothing could induce me to ever return," swore Bates.

Peters smiled and walked off, knowing that he had helped give a fellow soldier a chance to get back on his feet.

When he'd stepped into the harsh sunlight outside the prison, he gave a cursory glance around for Vera, but didn't really expect to see her. Then, he briefly considered heading straight to the nearest pub. He dismissed the idea almost immediately, convinced he had put himself on the right path, but the pull of it was still there. He shook his head to rid himself of the notion, and turned in the opposite direction to go make amends with his mother. He had wondered how he would handle freedom, and was fairly encouraged he'd been able to hold out.

Relatively shortly thereafter, he received word that Grantham had accepted his petition, and he was on his way. Before departing, he'd sold everything he owned, except for a few books, using the money to outfit himself as befitted a gentleman's gentleman.

He was on the milk train to Downton. He knew he would arrive early, but he was anxious for something to do. Sitting around only brought dark thoughts. As he rode the train through the countryside, he reflected on the events that had brought him to this point. But, more importantly, he thought about what he would have to do to stay on that path.

The arrangements for his new post had taken longer than he had thought possible, so he'd had to move in with his mother for a bit. He spent a little time looking for Vera, but he knew he wouldn't find her. With nothing to do but wait, he made himself nervous that the delay was caused by Lord Grantham looking a little too hard into the intervening years between their time in Africa and now. He'd almost written off his chances, but things had worked out in his favour, and he was keen to get started. In the end, he guessed Grantham couldn't have looked into him very well, or he never would have been engaged. Whatever Grantham's reasons, Bates jumped at the chance to make his new life.

Bates turned his thoughts to Vera. He could remember a time when they were happy. He'd had a difficult childhood, but she made him forget all that. They had fallen in love fairly quickly, and he was sure that was it for him, he would never want anyone else. The first years of their marriage had passed in bliss. She surprised him on their wedding night when he discovered he wasn't the first, or even the second, but he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to hurt her. Even though she knew more about the marriage bed than he, he refused to let it bother him. He was in love, he thought, and she could do no wrong.

Yet, it wasn't long before the cracks began to appear. It started slowly when he began to notice he was irritating her in small ways. Then, she started disappearing for whole evenings at a time. She quit wanting him, letting him know in painful and humiliating ways. He didn't understand how it could all go wrong so quickly. He heard the neighbourhood gossip, and got in a number of fights over it. That was fine with him; it gave him an outlet for his anger. So, when he had the opportunity to go to war, he thought it was an excellent chance to get away and focus his anger more positively. If only he'd known just how it would teach him to focus his anger, he would have run in the opposite direction. But, by then it was too late, he had learned to lean on anger as a friend, and there would be no turning back.

Next, Bates considered how he would move forward. He knew now that he had acted too quickly when he first met Vera. He had to forgive himself for that and let it go, because as a young man he acted impulsively, as young men were wont to do. Well, he was obviously no longer young, so he resolved to take his time in future in contemplating all matters requiring an important decision. He knew drinking and carousing had led him wrong, so he'd also have to avoid that in future as well. Being too free with his comments was another of his faults; he was going to have to continue to control his tongue and his temper, as he'd learned to do over the past two years. Lastly, he had acted far too dishonourably in the past. He'd allowed those close to him to be hurt by his roguish behaviour. Well, no more. He determined to follow through on his pledge to be a better man, to avoid those entanglements which would cause him to behave disgracefully. He knew it wouldn't be easy, quite the reverse, actually. It was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he was going to do it if it killed him.

Keep his head down, do his job. How could that lead him wrong?