Author's Note:

Sorry for not posting in a little while. School's been hectic and I recently got very sick. I threw Thomas and Mrs. Hughes together and the next chapter will also feature these two as well as some with Anna.

(To: The Green Eyed Cat-Thank you so much, I love your reviews!)

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Mrs. Hughes looked in on Thomas, writing a letter in bed. His arm was in a sling, the other holding a quill and writing. He looked younger than ever, with his pale face contrasting against his pitch-black hair. She remembered the time she found him shivering out in the rain, looking like a snot nosed brat. She still felt for him as if he was one of her own, as if he was still a footman downstairs.

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The rain pounded the roof of the castle at Downton Abbey. Thomas was running from the meadow, the rain soaking his 'downstairs' jacket. Mr. Carson would kill him.

He could see his breath coming in wispy white puffs through the rain. He looked up to the sky, as if glaring would make it stop. Mud clung to his shoes in brown clumps and his hair was out of sorts, but it was like that even before the rain came.

He hadn't even told Mrs. O'Brien about his secret meeting with the Duke of Crowborough. They hadn't done anything really, just kissed and hugged and told jokes. His life improved ever since he came along. To know that someone actually liked him in the same way. To know that someone would be waiting for him by the meadow in the forest after eight o'clock when he got off work.

He continued running, thinking about the secret ten minutes they'd stolen. While Thomas liked the Duke, he realized he couldn't get too friendly, just in case. He finally arrived at the servants' entrance.

Snot dripped from his nose, his shoulders shivered under the drenched coat. He pushed against the door with his shoulders but it was stuck! The wooden door swelled from the humidity of the rain. He continued pounding with his fists for another ten minutes before Mrs. Hughes answered the door and took in Thomas' disheveled appearance.

"What happened to you?"

He went to go inside when she blocked his entrance."

"I-I went to the office to send a letter." His voice quivered in the chilly night air.

"Without telling or myself?"

He looked at the gravel pebbles under his feet.

"Please Mrs. Hughes, I tried to, but I couldn't find the chance-"

She huffed even louder, still blocking the entrance.

"Well next time you find the time! Give me one good reason I shouldn't leave you outside in the rain as a punishment!"

He leaned against the side of the door. It had been raining when he first left and the rain only increased adversely with the temperature.

"Please Mrs. Hughes, I've been outside for over thirty minutes. My shoes are filled with water and my coat is soaked." He sniffed for good measure.

She looked at him like a disapproving mother, her eyes roaming over his sodden appearance. Reluctantly, she stepped aside, but not before setting down a towel.

"You're going to have to wash that."

He grunted but stepped inside. He could feel the warmth from the hearth and the cooling oven. He could hear Mr. Carson's shoes on the squeaky floorboards.

"Thomas! Where have you been? You're a mess! Don't you realize when-"

Thomas kept his head straight and his eyes focused on Mr. Carson but tuned out his speech. It just wasn't worth it. This was the second time he'd gotten a dressing down so harsh in all his years at Downton. He didn't understand why he couldn't catch a break every now and then. It's like Mr. Carson was watching for slip ups and mistakes. He was always there to kick him when he was down. He sniffled again, wishing he didn't give his last handkerchief to the Duke.

Mrs. Hughes watched as Thomas stood stone still, Mr. Carson barking out insults and clichés like he was the boy's father.

She stepped in for Thomas defense, feeling just the tiniest tug at her matronly heart.

"It wasn't completely his fault, we've both been awfully busy. Besides, Thomas is old enough to go out once and a while after work if he needs to."

Mr. Carson brushed a hand through his thinning hair.

"Very well, but if I catch you out again without my permission you better have your bags packed and your shoes on. Understand?"

Thomas clicked his heels together and stood a little taller. "Yes sir."

As soon as Carson left, Mrs. Hughes turned to him.

"Don't expect me to ever do that again. Just because Mr. Carson can be a little harsh doesn't mean you don't deserve it."

Thomas put a hand to his head. The room was spinning, his feet were wet and his whole body shivered.

"Thomas, are you listening to me?"

He swayed on his feet, the only thing stopping him from toppling over was Mrs. Hughes supporting him. She got under his shoulder, one arm around his waist, the other on a chair. He sneezed violently.

"You probably got sick in that rain. Come now, I'll help you to your room."

Slowly, painstakingly, she helped Thomas into his room where peeled off his layers.

"I'll get your pajamas."

He looked at the pajamas in nothing but his boxers. They both should've been embarrassed but Thomas was too sick and Mrs. Hughes had known him for over three years. He was much like the son she never wanted.

"Arms up."

He did as he was told and allowed Mrs. Hughes to pull over his t-shirt. She left soon after that.

The next morning Thomas didn't show up for breakfast. Mr. Carson pounded his fist on the table.

"Where is that boy?"

Anna volunteered to go check on him. While Thomas wasn't her favourite, she knew nobody deserved an angry Mr. Carson as a wake up call. She knocked loudly at first. Hearing no answer she twisted the knob and went into the room.

Thomas was still in bed. The sheets were twisted beneath his hands and sweat gleamed off his forehead.

"Thomas?"

He groaned and turned over.

"Thomas, are you sick?"

She put the back of her hand to his forehead and pulled it away quickly as if burned. She was about to leave when he grabbed her wrist desperately, fingers grasping wildly.

"Mom, please. I'm sorry, I'll do better."

Anna pushed his hair back, away from his face.

"Shhh, it's alright. It's Anna."

His eyes were glazed over, his undershirt was wet with sweat.

"Mom forgive me!"

Anna blinked rapidly a few times.

"Okay, I forgive you."

He released her wrist and closed his eyes, his head hitting the pillow again. She went to find Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes still in the servants' hall.

"He's very sick. Delirious with fever."

"We'll send for the doctor then. Anna, you're needed upstairs."