Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey or the dialogue that is taken directly from the show.

Later that evening after having travelled up to London to talk to Sir Richard about prohibiting Mrs Bates from publishing the story of her scandal, and thankfully her efforts were successful, Mary was walking towards her room when she heard a cry from the room Lavinia was staying in. She knocked gently on the door, and then entered.

"Lavinia?" she asked gently. "What's wrong?"

"Matthew's told me to go home," Lavinia said in an unsteady voice. "He says he won't see me again. He feels as if he has to 'set me free' as he put it. I tried to tell him I don't care, but he wouldn't listen."

Mary had been listening to Lavinia in shock and surprise and by the time she had finished, Mary couldn't stand by the door any longer, so she entered the room and went and sat down on the bed next to Lavinia. "Then you must keep telling him," she stated.

Lavinia looked up at Mary and she knew that there was something more, something besides Matthew not walking as she knew Lavinia wouldn't leave Matthew for a reason as simple as that. She had no idea what it could be, but judging from Lavinia's reaction, it had to be something important.

"Yes, but you see, it isn't just the walking," Lavinia explained. "Today he told me we can never be lovers because that's gone as well. I didn't realize. It's probably obvious to anyone with half a brain."

Mary looked at Lavinia in shock. She couldn't believe what she had just been told. Poor Matthew, how it must have been horrible to hear that and he had had to hear it alone. That had to have been what Doctor Clarkson had pulled her father aside to say. No wonder he had looked so shocked. "No," she murmured for lack of anything else to say. As she sat down on the bed net to Lavinia she added, "Nor did I." She honestly hadn't realized the full implications of Matthew's injury. She was grateful she hadn't known about them yesterday, because otherwise she probably would have been the bearer of that news as well. Tearing down one part of his life had been horrible enough, but she would have been unable to tear down a second. And, as Granny said, sometimes it was best to let the blow fall in pieces.

"And he feels it would be a crime to tie me down," Lavinia continued as she tried to wipe away the unrelenting tears. "He thinks I'd hate him in the end because we can't have children. I'm sorry if I shocked you, but there's no one else I can talk to about it and when you came in…"

"I'm not shocked," Mary interrupted, "I'm just stunned. And desperately sad." And that was true. She was stunned and sad, both for Lavinia and for herself. Now neither of them would get Matthew, who happened to be the man of their dreams for them both.

Lavinia lifted her tear-stained face and looked right at Mary. "I'll die if I can't be with him."

Mary looked at the girl she had once thought she'd hate because she had taken Matthew away from her, but one look at Lavonia's face and she knew that she truly loved Matthew. "Lavinia, I'll do my best to see if I can make Matthew see sense." And I'll try to convince him that he should keep you, she silently added, though a small part of her wanted him to take her back instead, but she knew that would never happen.

"Thank you," Lavinia answered in a small voice. "I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"You didn't," Mary assured. "You can't. You're a sweet lady, a better one than I, and I know that you'll take good care of Matthew, if he should take you back."

"Do you think he will?"

"I don't know," Mary answered. At one point, she probably would have answered surely, but now she was no longer certain of how Matthew thought. War changed everyone, that much she knew, but she didn't know how much it changed people. "I'm sure it was just … just some way of trying to … trying to cope."

"I hope so," Lavinia said. "I need him and, and he needs me."

After Lavinia left and after all of his tears were gone, Matthew didn't know what to do, well, what to think about, as that was the only thing he could do. Oh, God, how he wished his mother was here … and his father. That thought suddenly jolted him. His father! He hadn't thought about, no, hadn't wished his father's presence in a long time. It had been nearly seventeen years since he had died. Matthew had been almost ready to go to university at the time and his father's death had hit him very hard. Now, in this world of bustling doctors and nurses, for the first time in several years, Matthew needed his father. True, his father wouldn't understand precisely what he was going through, but his father had been a doctor, and it was because of that fact that Matthew knew he needed him. "Father," he murmured under his breath. "Why? Why can't you be here? Why'd you have to die?" He hadn't asked that question in so long, in fact, Matthew was wondering if he had ever even asked that specific question. Here and now, there wasn't anything anyone could do; there wasn't anyone who could comfort him, but Matthew knew that the one physical person who could do it properly was his father. There wasn't anyone else who knew him, had known him, like his father. Far into the night, until he drifted off to sleep, Matthew dug through his memory trying to remember anything and everything that had to do with his father. It brought a strange sort of comfort to him, almost as if his father was there with him. He knew he wasn't there, but a small part of him hoped that at least his father knew what had happened; he hoped that his father was there with him in spirit.

The next day, Mary went to the hospital to try and talk some sense into Matthew, but a few lines into their conversation, she knew she had been beaten, but she still hoped that Matthew would see sense.

"Matthew, why did you send Lavinia away?" Mary asked, hoping that bluntness might help her get a direct answer out of him.

"You know why," Matthew answered her as he kept his eyes shut. He couldn't let her see the hurt that was in them or the pain. It was ironic really, he couldn't feel half his body, but the part that he could feel was always in pain. He knew that meant healing, but oh how he wished the pain would just leave. He knew that wasn't to be though. The pain in his body would eventually leave, and it was diminished by the morphine, but the pain in his heart would always be there and there was nothing that could dull it. It would never fully heal and he wondered if it would ever even begin to heal.

"No, I don't know why," Mary gently replied, even though she did because Lavinia had told her. She needed to hear the words come from Matthew though, in order to truly believe that he had said them as they didn't seem like something the Matthew she knew, or thought she knew, would say.

"She's better off in London," Matthew stated, though he hated himself for saying those words. Yes, Lavinia was better off in London, but was it better off for her or for him? He knew how hurt she had been, but he had convinced himself that it was for her own good. But was it that way, truly? Well, what difference did it make? She would have eventually decided to leave on her own after seeing what all would have been required of her to do for him, and the fact that there was next to nothing he could do for her. No matter who it was for, it had been better that he had sent her away.

"If you say so," Mary sighed, at last admitting defeat. She wished that Matthew could understand that in some cases love triumphed over everything else people saw in a marriage.

"Do you know why I sent her away?" he asked. He hoped that she did, that way he wouldn't have to explain himself again. He knew he wouldn't stand being able to do it, let alone with Mary.

"I think so," Mary answered slowly.

"Then you'll know I couldn't marry her. Not now. I couldn't marry any woman." Not even you, he added silently. He desperately wished that he could still get married or better still, be married. Why, Mary, why did you refuse me four years ago? If only she had accepted him, then there wouldn't be this situation. He had turned to Lavinia partly out of desperation, it was a war-time romance, and partly out of spite. He wanted to prove to Mary that he could move on. Perhaps he had done a bit too good of a job there. He thought he had loved Lavinia, and he did, but not in the proper kind of love for marriage. He still wondered if Mary loved him and if he loved her, but he knew the latter part to be true. However, he quickly dismissed those thoughts from his mind. It no longer mattered who he loved, or who loved him, as there was no possible way he would tie anyone down to be with him for the rest of his life. And why was he thinking about Mary? He might still love her, but it was obvious she had moved on, just as he had tried to move on. He shouldn't even be thinking like that. Even if Mary was free, he still couldn't take her right after sending Lavinia away.

Matthew turned and looked straight into Mary's eyes as he said the last sentence and then he mentally scolded himself for doing such an action. Mary held back a gasp as she wondered if Matthew still loved her. She still loved him; that was true and was beginning to regret refusing his proposals, but she couldn't have accepted him, not without telling him of her infidelity. Well, it was too late now, on both their accounts. The announcement of her engagement to Sir Richard had been announced in the papers that very morning, and as Matthew had so eloquently put it, he couldn't marry any woman, but that was only what he believed. She thought differently and yes, so did Lavinia. She was determined not to give up, but she was now beginning to doubt whether or not Matthew ever could come to his senses in this regard.

"And if they should just want to be with you? On any terms?" she asked, knowing that's what Lavinia had said, but the same was true for her. There as a small part of her heart that hoped Matthew would relent, but she knew how stubborn Matthew was.

"No one sane would want to be with me as I am now," Matthew replied dejectedly as he tried to keep his voice steady. "Including me." But then, I'm not sane, he added mentally. No one withstood the horrors of war without loosing some part of his sanity. Despite everything that had been going on, ever since that first night, he hadn't had a single thought of gaining freedom by choosing death. He never could make that choice. It would hurt too many people. Merely the thought of what so many young soldiers in similar predicaments did, made Matthew feel ill. It took a few seconds for him to realize that he truly was about to be sick.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he moaned. In a flash, Mary, who had been thinking about the young blinded soldier who had taken his life and hoping that Matthew wasn't contemplating the same action, had grabbed the nearby basin and helped him lean over the side of the bed. She continued to wonder what was going on in his mind as she said while rubbing his back, "It's all right. It's going to be all right." She was certain it couldn't be what it sounded like at the surface level: he still had a life, a loving mother, a home to come home to, and a family.

As she was cleaning his face, Matthew began to laugh in a rather sarcastic tone. "What is it?" she asked, wondering what could cause this reaction.

"It seems just a short time since I turned you down," he said, remembering when Mary had asked if he would have stayed at Downton if she had accepted him. He knew he wouldn't have stayed, as he still would have had to do his duty towards his country. "Now look at me, an impotent cripple stinking of sick. What a reversal. I wonder what it's all for."

"All that matters is that you're here," Mary assured, not wanting to berate Matthew for his choice of words at the moment. She too knew of the incident he was referring to. She had lost rack of how many times she wished she had accepted him when he had given her the chance. He would soon realize there was much more to him than simply the fact he couldn't use his legs. She, like everyone else at Downton was simply thankful that Matthew was back alive, even if he was permanently injured. "And you survived the war. That's enough for now."

"Mary," Matthew murmured, relishing the feeling of her touch. That wasn't right, he should have enjoyed Lavinia's touch more, but he couldn't. Not now, when he had finally realized that it was still Mary he loved, though it was much too late to realize that. He couldn't marry anyone ever. He had to realize that, and he had to accept the fact that Mary was now engaged to someone else.

"Yes?"

"I-I want you to know that, that as much … as much as I hate it, I… I wouldn't end it," he stuttered. He had seen the look of sheer horror in her eyes and knew that it had been his sudden bought of sickness that had saved him from hearing the same lecture from Mary that he had heard form Sybil on his first night in the hospital. He still hated his existence, but he wouldn't finish it off, more so for the sake of his mother than for himself.

"Thank you, Matthew," Mary replied quietly, though extremely relieved. She hadn't thought that Matthew would do something so drastic, but she was thankful to know that he wouldn't. "I should let you get some rest," she said as she stood up. "You're starting to look tired."

Matthew wouldn't admit it, but he was starting to feel a bit sleepy. He knew it had to do with the fact his body was using all its energy towards cleaning. After all, he wasn't doing anything that would normally tire himself.

She got up to leave and as she was exiting the room, she saw Isobel. "You're back," she exclaimed quietly, but in delight "He'll be so pleased."

"You've become quite a nurse since I last saw you," Isobel said.

It's nothing," Mary responded, knowing that to Isobel, her sacrifice meant a great deal. It had been a hard couple of days for Matthew, Lavinia, her family, and for herself, but she knew they would have been even harder if she hadn't turned into Matthew's nurse. Now, with his mother's return, she was certain the worst had to be over. At any rate, she knew Matthew would improve simply with the presence of his mother.

As she walked off, she heard Isobel say quietly, "It's the very opposite of nothing."

Matthew watched Mary walk off, but before the sound of her footsteps had completely disappeared, someone else appeared in his line of vision. He stared at her for a few brief seconds before gasping, "Mother." He couldn't believe that she was here, but she was, right? He hadn't already fallen asleep, had he? He moved his hand to pinch his thigh, but stopped, knowing that wouldn't do anything. He'd simply have to hope that this was real.

"I'm here, Matthew, I'm here," Isobel said as she quickly sat down next to her son and took his hand. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Mother," Matthew repeated again. He was on the verge of tears, but this time they weren't tears of mourning or of pain, but tears of relief. He never thought he would be so glad to see her, or so relieved to be able to say that word. He looked up into his mother's eyes and saw that they were filled with love and relief, not pity, and for that he was extremely grateful. His last thought as he drifted off was how calming the presence of his mother was.

A/N I've just realized that this is the second chapter that ends with Matthew falling asleep. Hopefully this won't happen very many more times, but this seemed like the best place to end it. Oh, and we're finished with episode 2.5.