Disclaimer: Every fellow Sybson shipper will understand what I would do if I owned Downton Abbey or any of the characters. Unfortunately, I do not.

Ok, just going to get something off my chest. I know I speak for many when I say I have never grieved for a fictional character as I grieved for Sybil, not even when Beth died. I have adored Sybil ever since she first appeared on Downton. Subsequently, when I sat down to write this chapter, I was a complete wreck. I worried that I wouldn't be able to write an AU without feeling miserable, and I was worried about how my story would progress when the readers knew that Sybil was dead. But I am not worried any more. Because characters need to live on in your head. Look at William; Lavinia. Two sweet, lovely people; virtually forgotten after their tragic deaths. We mustn't let that happen to Sybil. She must stay alive in AUs. Sybil is no longer the sole property of JF, despite what the disclaimer may say. She belongs to the people who have imagined her life in Ireland, explored her emotions and feelings more than JF ever did or could. Killing Sybil was easy, a page of writing, two? Keeping Sybil alive is harder; happy ever afters' are hard to write, but for a character like Sybil, we must do them. Someone as sweet, intelligent and lovely as Sybil does not deserve to be forgotten.

OK, rant over. On with the story!

The sky was a mellow orange hue as the sisters entered Downton. Sybil had been half carried there she was so cold – Edith had given her a coat and Mary had rubbed her white arms but it did not make a difference. Sybil wondered what she would find at Downton. Larry? No, she shook her head. Larry would never do something like that, not when he had been so publicly disgraced. He would slink back in to the high society gossip parties he adored, his nose in the air and stories of his fiancée's infidelity and cruelty on his lips. He would play the jilted lover well, better than he played being her actual lover, to be honest. Granny would be there. She would need her grandmother's stoicism after a day like this. Granny would be her ally, no matter what, and she would have her sisters. The great aunts. Anyone but the great aunts. Suppose they hung around after the wedding, talking about the shame their niece had brought upon the family? Suppose they would be in the drawing room when she talked to mama and papa, clucking and making disapproving noises. She asked Edith,

"Are any of the great aunts still here?" Edith nodded.

"Aunties Mildred, Poppy and Tabitha had attacks of the vapours, and had been chauffeured home in a state of great anxiety. Auntie Florence and Deidre took the first train back to Kent. But great aunt Gertie has stuck around, granny told me she could never keep her nose out of anything, and was always stirring up trouble with her and Grandpa. And great-great auntie Myrtle is staying to offer her opinions on how wife beating is good for the health, or whatever nonsense she spouts. I think she's going a bit senile to be honest." Edith smiled nervously; Sybil's heart plummeted. She whispered,

"Should I wait? Until they're gone?" Edith was about to speak but Mary interrupted,

"No Sybil, or you will just end up putting it off, and putting it off, until you are right back where you started; stuck in a marriage to some dreadful Lord with no one to confide in. Look, Edith and I are with you, no matter what, and with us on your side, what is there left to be afraid of?"

"She is right, Sybil," Edith interposed, "Mary is easily the scariest person I know, with the possible exception of Granny, and I reckon I am more than a match for her. Between us, how can you fail?" Sybil giggled, and the girls walked in companionable silence. As they approached the drive, still festooned with white ribbons and flowers, three hands raised a doorknob, and knocked.

William opened the door, his face a mask, although his eyes betrayed his curiosity. Thank goodness it wasn' t Carson, Sybil thought, Imagine having him see you in your shift. She bit down on her lip to stop herself giggling.

"Milady, your parents wish to see you in the drawing room." Sybil sighed.

"Tell them I will be downstairs shortly, I must get changed. Oh, and fetch Anna, will you?" William nodded, curtly, and went to deliver the message. Sybil turned to her sisters.

"I cannot let papa see me in my shift, and all my clothes are packed up." Seeing the absurdity of the situation, she began to laugh. After the melodrama of today, she looked like an eight year old would before bath time. Her laughter was infectious, Edith and Mary, who had looked solemn, dissolved in to giggles. This went on for about three minutes, as every time they looked at one another they would be off again. However, once they reached the gaspy, bleary-eyed stage, Mary grew serious.

"I am afraid that I am too tall, and Edith too short - oh grow up Edith, we all know you will never tower above us – anyway, we won't be able to lend you anything." Edith brightened.

"Anna. I am sure Anna would lend you something, she has always been so fond of you."

"I suppose at this point it is not about what looks becoming but what is practical, but honestly Edith, only you could come up with a plan to make Sybil look like a servant." Grimacing at the thought, they hurried Sybil upstairs, oblivious to Carson's purple face and scandalised eyebrows, as he caught sight of the Lady Sybil in her underwear.

Anna clasped her hands together as she waited for Sybil. Relief. That was the only word to describe how she was feeling. It washed over her like cool water. It was not until today, when she had seen Sybil walking up the aisle with that look of determination on her face that she had realised how frightened she was. How truly concerned she was for Sybil, for the abuse and violence she would be putting up with for the rest of her life.

It was a hot summer's evening, almost overwhelmingly so. As Anna made Sybil's bed, she looked carefully around before taking off her cap and sighing as cool air hit her hair. Damn Mr Bates! Could he not be straight with her for once in his life? Every time she tried to talk about them, he would deflect her and say that she should not be wasting her time on an old codger like him. As she pondered over this, Lady Sybil ran in to the bedroom, her eyes closed, breathing heavily. Anna jumped.

"I am so sorry milady, I don't know what came over me." Anna stuttered as she hastily jammed her cap back on. She came to a halt, however, as she saw Sybil's face. There was an ugly red welt over her eye, the kind that would resemble a mulberry the next day. Her eyelash and the loose strands of hair were clotted with blood that now dribbled down her face, mingled with tears.

"Anna I… I tripped over. Hit my face on a door." She finished lamely. Tears pooled in Anna's eyes,

"Milady, please…"

"I banged in to a door, I mean tripped, I mean…oh never mind what I mean!" She muttered distractedly. "Oh Anna, mama would have a fit if she saw me like this; please help me. I promise I have in under control." Anna nodded, silent. What else could she do? A door her foot, you could see the marks on her face. She thought it must have been a book he used, (there was no doubt as to who it could be,) as there were tiny scratch marks on her face where the paper had cut it."

"Milady, are you sure you don't want to go to Lady Grantham?"

"No!" Sybil shouted. "Mama would be absolutely furious, I have to be at Tilly's ball on Friday, I do not know what she would say about me being so careless. Anna, please. Help me cover it up, and I promise you it will be alright. Just, put some powder on it. Stop the bleeding. Perhaps if we put ice on it, the swelling will stop. Help me, and I promise I can sort things out."

"As you wish, milady." She had used everything she could, and Sybil looked about half way normal towards the end. Anna had tried to get eye contact with Sybil, but she had seemed strangely interested in the pattern of her dress. It was far from the last time. Once, when Sybil was having her bath, she noticed an array of bruises on her once flawless skin. Anna was always dutiful, always diligent, she would simply lay out dresses which would cover them up, and make her up so that a black eye was almost eradicated. Almost. Lady Grantham knew, knew but wouldn't speak or think. But as Sybil walked up the aisle, Anna was truly terrified for her. She could not bear to think of Sybil, darling Sybil whom she regarded as a little sister, beaten and bruised every day of her life. She wanted to stand up and scream for them all to stop.

Had she been relieved when Sybli stopped the wedding? Very much so.

"Anna!" Mary called, and the sisters burst through the door. Sybil flopped down on to the bed. Every bone in her body ached.

"Anna, Lady Sybil needs a dress to wear, all of her clothes are in trunks downstairs. I don't suppose you could…"

"Of course, milady." Mary gave Anna's hand a friendly squeeze. If Sybil was a baby sister, Mary was a best friend, a confidante, Anna thought. Though she was perceived as cold and hard-hearted by the rest of the servants, save Carson, the two women shared a fierce bond. Ever since Mary was sixteen and Anna was fourteen, and she had been told solemnly that she was to wait on Lady Mary, who had just come out. She hurried out, and soon returned with her day dress, tactfully removing the apron. Sybil slipped it on gladly after nearly freezing to death outside, and tied her hair back in a loose tail, the sort she had not done since she was fourteen. She turned to Mary and Edith.

"How do I look?" Mary closed her eyes as if in pain, but smiled, and said,

"You look a perfect darling in that dress Sybil, I felt as if I didn't know you in that great silk affair this morning." Mary did up Sybil's top back buttons, and Edith slipped thick woolen stockings on her white feet.

"You'll do," Edith said approvingly, and they left the room together, Sybil marching out first with her head held high.

Robert sat in an armchair, downing his third glass of whisky, Isobel quietly stroking Isis and his aunt Gertie sniffing in a corner. Cora was standing by the fire, quiet fury etched in her face. William announced the sisters, who entered calmly, and sat. It took a while for the tirade to begin, but sure enough, after a minute, Cora snapped.

"How dare you, young lady. How dare you bring shame and scandal down on this house after all we have done for you? Surely if you did not like him you could have told him earlier in the engagement and we would have been spared your histrionics. You may have single handedly ruined this family, even Mary could not have brought a disgrace like this upon us." She paused for breath, glaring at her youngest daughter. "And that brings me to another point. Why Sybil, why? Fifty thousand a year, your own estate to manage, and a marriage to a handsome man. You should be grateful for an opportunity such as that. Have I really spoilt you so much that you can just look an offer such as his in the face and turn it down?" Cora spoke with anger. Great aunt Gertie sniffed,

"Such a ridiculous child, what did I tell you Cora, letting her fill her head with all this rubbish about women's suffrage." At this, Sybil retorted.

"I am not spoilt, I am not! You stand there and accuse me of bringing shame on the family, of being a disappointment, a bringer of scandal. All you can think about is yourself! You live in your own little world, planning who we will marry, how influential you can make us, what successful matches we will make. You never care for us, or about what we want. Can't you understand that I couldn't care less about that? That it hurts so much that you would rather I lived in shame and misery with a man I abhor rather than bring the merest hint of scandal on this house. That you would not care about my happiness so long as I had a large estate and fifty thousand a year. You think I can live without one kind glance, one warm embrace, but how can I live so? I need… I need a man who will devote every waking minute to my happiness, who I can love, and be loved in return by. But such things clearly do not matter in this house." Cora, her face chalky white, sat down heavily. Sybil turned to her father. "Papa, will you not speak? Will you not in turn admonish me for my misconduct, for the disgrace I have brought on your head." Robert muttered,

"Your mother can cope with this, I am staying out of it." This time Mary spoke up, her eyes ablaze.

"Oh you always did stay out of it, papa. You never wanted to hear, you never wanted to face up to the fact that we wanted something you could never give us. It was mama and Granny who arranged Patrick's marriage and mine; you sat by and watched as I was cornered in to an engagement neither of us wanted. And then you looked at me with reproach in your eyes as I could not mourn him as a fiancée. You watched as I saw my inheritance fall away a second time. Murray had told you nothing could be done, so what did it matter that your daughter cried herself to sleep because she wasn't a boy, and she would have to give up her home. And you sat by and watched as my heart was broken, but it was none of your business because we are girls, naturally we are beyond your understanding. You can only look at us with reproach after we make mistakes, after we are wronged, because you refused to get involved with something you felt you had no need to understand!" Edith stood by her sister, her fists clenched.

"And what about me, mama? Papa? With me there was never the complicated marital politics, there was never the planning with someone's mother. You thrust me at whatever you thought would take me, and let me pick up the pieces afterwards. Never a regret, never a condolence. You never even apologised for forcing me to talk to men who I had no interest in. Just those reproachful eyes, and a little snide comment from mama at the end. 'Oh Edith, I fear she as marked out as the plain one in our little trio…' 'I doubt Edith will ever make a worthwhile match…' ' I fear Edith will be the one to look after us in our old age…' All because I am little and plain, therefore invisible in your eyes. Not only would both Mary and I be left picking up the pieces after the latest failed match, but it made us feel inadequate. So inadequate, mama that all that mattered was that we were married off, and we had failed you by not finding a man. And we watched, as Sybil, blinded by a false threat, was unable to pick the broken pieces up. I know that when one of us speaks, we all speak, because we have all suffered at your hand." Cora opened her mouth as if to speak, and Robert stood up, but Sybil interrupted in a hoarse whisper.

"And what's more, mama, you knew, I saw you dismiss the bruises on my face, the scratches and welts on my arms. Felt you push them to the back of your mind and look away. Because you could not bear to see a different side to the happily ever after story after your two eldest daughters were left so miserable. You did not see my unhappiness because you did not want to!" All three sisters were left panting, side by side. Tears trickled down Cora's cheeks as she held out her arms to her girls.

"My girls, my beauties, I love you too much to make you so unhappy. I never meant for you to feel this way, when I value you all so much. I know you think I see you only as marriageable goods, but it is not so. I admire your resilience and compassion, Sybil; your quiet determination and fortitude, Edith; and Mary, your passionate nature underneath it all, and your fighting spirit. Oh my little girls, I did not mean for you to grow up so soon." Mary and Edith slipped their arms around her and the two young women felt the hurt they felt for so many years wash away in that understanding embrace. Only Sybil, her wounds too fresh to heal, stood apart. She could not believe her mother had changed, not so soon. She spoke clearly, her mind quite made up.

"Mama, I feel I must go away for a while. I cannot stay here, not for quite a while yet." Cora nodded through her tears.

"Of course my darling. But where will you go.?"

"She will stay with me." A quiet, husky voice said, and Sybil turned around to find her granny standing in the doorway. Sybil ran over and wrapped her arms around her. Her granny had never been the cuddly sort, preferring a quick peck on the cheek, but she was surprised when she found herself being hugged in return.

"I have asked Anna to fetch your trunks; I am sure Pratt would not mind taking us down in the car." Violet extended her arm to Sybil, and Sybil accepted. Together, the old woman and the girl just a few weeks shy of eighteen, walked out of Downton and stepped in to the the car.

Phew! That was hard – I kept stopping and weeping. As always, please review! Thank you Shana Rose!