A/N: Thank you again to everyone following this story and going down this strange AU road with me. Trigger warning ahead for blood (you knew it was coming).
Cora's nails bit into the flesh of her legs as she tightened her hold, inhaling and exhaling slowly through the pain in her stomach. More blistering than it had ever been, the discomfort was now accompanied by an increasing nausea that made Cora's vision blur and she screwed her eyes closed. It couldn't be denied any longer, she realized. Her body was demanding that she concede she was sick beyond her ability to heal herself.
Tomorrow, she decided, tomorrow she would call Dr. Albert for a consultation. Her obstacle for this evening would be to get through the dinner party awaiting her downstairs and the ensuing battle of wits with Mama and the Minister of Health.
"Cora?" Robert's voice was close to her ear and Cora's eyes sprung open to reveal his furrowed brow and frown as he held her gaze. "What's wrong?"
Cora sighed, she felt too poorly to try and hide it. "I don't feel particularly well, Robert, if truth be told."
Robert squated lower, his eyes going wide and taking stock of her face. "What is it?" The urgency in his voice made Cora temper her response.
"Just a hint of nausea. Perhaps it was something I ate?" Cora attempted a smile but Robert's frown deepend.
"Well, then, we're cancelling." Robert stated, straightening up.
Cora rolled her eyes and stood up. "Don't be silly, everyone is literally enroute here. I wouldn't be surprised if Mama weren't already in the library causing trouble. Or plotting sabotage."
"I don't give one fig about it!" Robert's voice rose. " I knew it Cora, I told you not to get involved in this hospital fiasco and now it's made you sick."
"Don't be angry-."
"I'm not!" Robert yelled, interrupting her. He shook his head and placed his hands on her shoulders, kneading the knobby muscles lightly. "I'm not angry. I'm concerned."
Cora flexed onto her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "And I'm flattered, but really, it will pass. Let us just get through this dinner!"
"Hmph," Robert grumbled. "Fine, but then we are seriously discussing a holiday, just you and I."
"That sounds divine," Cora exhaled, stifling any sign of a grimace. "Why don't you go down ahead of me. I'll be right there."
Robert hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes." Cora answered. "Please, before Mama tries to gain some sort of advantage in my absence."
"Alright, but I mean it Cora. After tonight this hospital business needs to be left in Mama and Isobel's hands." Robert said emphatically.
Knowing that Robert's wishes came from a place of regard for her health didn't help the immediate surge of irritation she experienced at being told what to do. She was a grown woman after all. Cora clamped her mouth shut however, not wanting to start the evening with an argument between she and Robert. She could only hope to steer Mr. Chamberlain towards her and Isobel's thinking. If they could prevail, the hospital issue would be settled quickly. It was the right thing for the village, Cora was certain of it, and she wasn't about to let a silly ulcer erase all of her hard work in moving health care at Downton Village Hospital toward the future. Surely, she could deal with the nuisance of her stomach for one more night.
Robert left her room and Cora went to her bedside table. Opening the draw, she withdrew the bottle Dr. Clarkson had given her last year. She fumbled with the cap, the tremor in her hand increasing as another sharp twinge bit at her side. Eventually, Cora was able to force the bottle open and she shook a capsule out, placed it on her tongue and swallowed. The bicarbonate fizzled in her mouth as it dissolved, and though they hadn't worked for weeks in dulling the pain, Cora hoped tonight would be an exception.
Robert chewed his food slowly. Mama spoke to his left, her words a dagger to the argument Isobel was attempting to make, delivered with a surgeon's precision. They had been sparring in this way since the beginning of dinner, and though Robert was aware of the increasing vitriol, and the uncomfortable embarrassment creeping into Mr. Chamberlain's face, his attention was centered on Cora. She'd grown paler during the evening, choosing to remain mostly silent though she had many strong opinions on the matter. He could tell by the strain of her features that whatever was ailing her hadn't gone away, if anything it had gotten worse. Robert clenched his fist around the fork in his hand. The arguing continued in the background and he had an almost uncontrollable urge to order them all out of the house. As it was, the constant bickering was turning his own stomach, he could only imagine how it was making Cora feel.
"Can't we stop this beastly row?" Robert asked in exasperation.
"How I wish we could," Mama responded mournfully, as though she weren't getting a thrill at the debate and had no control over her own participation.
Robert leaned forward, intending to demand a stop to all of the contentious litigation of the hospital issue, when Cora stood. Leaning back in confusion, Robert bit back his words. Their eyes met briefly, he looking up at her and she looking down. He lingered on how blue they seemed, almost unnaturally so. The irises were only tiny pin pricks. A shiver ran down Robert's spine, there was something in her eyes that put him on alert. She looked frightened and her hand was balled into a fist, pressing hard into her stomach. Robert pushed his chair back, ready to stand, a flutter of anxiety propelling his actions.
"I'm terribly sorry…". Robert could barely hear Cora above the clanking of dishes and the continued hiss of discord.
"Darling…" Robert answered, watching the little color that remained in her face drain away.
The next sound Cora made was somewhere between a cough and a gag and before Robert could think or react there was blood. It splattered across the white linen, marking the fabric like a child's painting on a canvas. Something wet hit his face, his chest, but Robert couldn't move. His mind screamed at him to stand, to run and save her, though he didn't know what from, as Cora continued to vomit red across the dining room. Time stuttered, slowing down to an exaggerated crawl and all Robert could do was watch, every muscle in his body seized. Except for his heart, it hammered wildly in his chest as the horror unfolded before him.
Abruptly, the noise of the room was cut off, the convulsions wracking Cora's body stopped. Robert felt oddly disengaged, though his pulse quivered harshly in his neck, as though he were in the audience of a play. This couldn't really be Cora, covered in her own blood, head lolling back, feebly trying to grip the table as her knees gave way and she fell backwards. It was the noise of her body hitting the floor, the dull thud reverberating off the walls that snapped Robert out of whatever fugue he'd been trapped in. Time snapped back like an elastic, speeding up and the dining room erupted into chaos once more, with chairs scraping back and Dr. Clarskon and Isobel clamoring over to the other side of the table. Edith's voice called out her mother's name over and over. His own mother clutched his arm, as stunned as he was. Still, Robert couldn't will himself to get up.
"Thomas, on her left side!" Robert was vaguely aware of Clarkson's barked order to the under butler.
"Give me napkins." Someone else shouted. Isobel? He couldn't see any of them, the table hiding his view. He couldn't see Cora.
"I'll call the ambulance," Carson's voice shook. Had Robert ever heard it quiver so before?
"Keep her warm." More orders from Clarkson.
"Take my coat." Tom struggled with his jacket and pushed a dumbfounded Minister of Health out of his way.
It was the look on the stranger's face, as Mr. Chamberlain continued to sit dazed, staring blindly at the floor where Robert could only imagine Cora laid, that worked to rouse him. Pushing away from the table in a scrabble of motion, Robert tripped over the edges of the carpeting in his haste and elbowed past the bodies between himself and Cora. Though it only took a few long strides to reach her, he couldn't get to her fast enough now. Skidding onto his knees, Robert's breath caught at the amount of fresh blood pooling around her. Carefully, he lifted her head and placed it into his lap. He hadn't realized he'd traveled with his napkin until he was holding it to Cora's mouth. With his other hand, he gently stroked the hair from her forehead, leaving streaks of red marring her white skin.
Inside he was shredded by incomprehensible terror, but outside Robert was instantly steady, focused. He continued to cradle Cora's head, he wiped the blood still gurgling from her mouth. He hushed her with reassurance and firmly worded platitudes.
"What is it?" Mary could be heard asking frantically.
"Her ulcer has burst." Dr Clarkson replied. "We must get her to the hospital as quickly as we can."
Another fit seemed to course through Cora's body and she spasmed in Robert's arms.
"I'm here darling, don't worry." Robert cooed, the edges of his calm beginning to fray. There was too much blood, he knew, and it wasn't stopping.
"If this is it, just know that I have loved you very, very much." Cora managed to get out.
Every part of Robert recoiled with denial at her words, they fell on his heart like a bomb. "This isn't it darling. Don't…" Don't you dare leave me, he wanted to scream into the room. "We won't let this be it."
Cora stared up at him, her eyes taking on a glassy sheen he'd seen on the battlefield. His hold on her tightened. Robert had heard of the phrase life flashing before your eyes, but he'd never realized it could happen when it wasn't your own life in danger. But his flashed, rapidly. Their's really, his and Cora's together, every little piece of history they had shared, every happiness, every heartache, and every simple gesture in between. No, this couldn't be it! He needed more; more time, more memories, more life with her. They were to take a trip together, just the two of them! He had plans for them, she was too young, and he had so many more years ahead of him, years he wouldn't be able to bare without her.
A touch to his shoulder broke Robert from his inner hysteria and he looked up to see a shaken Tom.
"They're here. They've come to take her."
Robert looked past him to see a group of men dressed in white, a stretcher hoisted among them. Robert pulled Cora closer, shaking his head.
"I'll do it," Robert croaked, moving to gather her up in his arms, unwilling to let these strangers touch her.
"Lord Grantham, there's no time. Let them take care of her." Dr. Clarkson instructed.
Edith and Tom's hands were on his shoulders, gently but persistently removing him from his position on the floor. Robert resisted at first but yielded as the attendants gingerly manuevered the board under Cora. Her eyes were closed, her features slack and Robert's breath stuck between his ribs until she emitted a soft groan at the jostling. Once she was in position, the men hurried from the dining room and Robert automatically followed closely on their heels. He looked past the senior staff members that had lined the hall, some helping the family into coats and gloves, others standing watch, faces bald with distress as Cora was rushed out of the house. Robert was minimally aware of Bates's own ministrations as he thrust his overcoat on him.
"My lord," Bates's voice was grave with concern.
"Thank you Bates," Robert whispered, holding the man's arm for support before letting go and running out the door himself.
Tom had already brought the car around, the girls scurrying into the back.
"Papa!" Mary called and Robert shook himself, willing his legs, which had suddenly gone leaden, to work. Once they obeyed, he scrambled into the passenger seat next to Tom, who pressed the gas viciously, the tires squealing in their haste to meet Tom's demands.
Robert held tightly to the door handle as he kept his eyes on the ambulance ahead, trying to make out the shadows cast against the back windows. No one spoke, each of them trapped in the depths of their own quietness as they held the harsh strobe lights of the ambulance in their view. With Cora sequestered in the ambulance ahead of them, and her life in the hands of others, the adrenaline seeped from Robert's body. There was nothing more he could do as they sped through the night and tremors began to pass through his body in waves. A numbing cold took hold of his extremities and Robert wondered if he was going into shock. The air in his lungs was turning stale and he gagged, covering it up with a cough as Tom's eyes swung in his direction.
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, Tom snapped the car to a stop in front of the hospital. Robert and Dr Clarkson clamored out of their respective vehicles at the same time, and the army escorting Cora into the hospital walked with speed through the door and down the corridor. Dr. Clarkson trailed close behind while Robert ran after him.
"Dr. Clarkson!" Robert grabbed the man's arm, impeding his progress. Dr Clarkson's words in the dining room had suddenly come back to him.
"Yes," Dr. Clarkson answered impatiently.
"You said," Robert stammered, "that is, what's happening to Lady Grantham...is a burst ulcer?"
Dr Clarkson nodded emphatically. "I'm sure of it. I thought it was taken care of before Christmas. She hadn't been back with any complaints."
Robert let his hand fall away.
"I'm going to do a thorough assessment and I'll be back shortly to discuss a plan." Dr Clarkson informed him before turning and racing down the hall, a nurse meeting him at the surgery door and helping him into his sterile coat.