AN: I'm continuing to play around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death. This is it. The end. I am amazed by how fixated I became on every moment of their (these fictional characters) lives while they sorted out their grief (a fascinating emotion). This final chapter became huge, so I'm posting in 2 parts.

Thanks for reading

Just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+


The atmosphere in Old Lady Grantham's private sitting room was charged with tense emotion. Dr. Clarkson's words had taken them all back to that dreadful night, triggering memories that ripped open their wounds. After he imparted his enlightened views regarding Sybil's death, he hoped he had satisfied the Dowagers request, and felt assured that Lord and Lady Grantham understood his message, which could offer them a new way of healing, together. When he was finished speaking Dr. Clarkson promptly moved past Robert, and then Cora as he headed for the door, desperate to escape the room.

Their eyes met and through a haze of tears they saw each other clearly, broken and wounded, for the first time in weeks. Succumbing to it all, Cora tilted her head and surrendered. Without hesitation Robert went to her and pulled her into his arms. Cora's body felt small and fragile within his embrace and he linked his arms to pull her gently towards him. Reflexively she moved her hands, gripping at his back to pull them even closer, snuffing out any air and space between them. Robert tucked his face into the side of her neck; he could feel her racing heart and the tension in her muscles, her cries reverberating through his own chest. He tightened his grip and held her through the intensity of their shared emotion.

Eventually she spoke, her voice muffled by his shoulder, "Robert, I need to sit down." Cora pulled back, their arms still locked around one another. As she lifted her eyes she saw the smudged tears on his cheeks. Her brow furrowed as more of her own tears welled. Blinking lightly, she cleared her throat and said again, "I need to sit." Robert impulsively leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Ok" he said softly with the tip of his nose still pressed to her skin. A lamented sob escaped her throat. She dropped her chin as heavy tears fell from her eyes, landing on his shirt and jacket.

Violet moved from where she stood at the mantle, taking this as her opportunity to leave. Robert looked over to his mother, her face strained with emotion. "I'll give you some privacy." She murmured and then quickly threw up her hands indicating she did not want him to fuss over her. "We'll have tea in the drawing room when you're ready." She glanced quickly at Cora who straightened and turned her head slightly, acknowledging her mother-in-law, yet unable to look the older woman in the eye. Violet quickly left the room, leaving Cora and Robert alone with their sorrow.

He kept an arm wrapped securely around her waist as their bodies moved apart. She gripped his upper arm, relying on his support as they moved across the room. Together they lowered them selves. Cora landing softly on to a chair while Robert knelt at her feet. Cora watched as he collected her hands within his, pulling them together tightly, he squeezed. Leaning his weight onto her legs, he strained his neck trying to place himself within her gaze.

Slowly the bruising and raw skin on his knuckles came in to focus and she quickly looked up, perplexed. She took in Robert's careworn features, he was pale and his sorrowful eyes held a darkness that indicated he hadn't slept in days. The resolve of their summons had categorically challenged all of her perceptions surrounding Sybil's death. The weight of her recent condemnation was sinking in and suddenly she was aghast. Robert could easily determine what she had just worked out in her mind. His glossy eyes stared up at her silently expressing his care and concern.

Cora began to struggle, pulling and wringing her hands free from his grasp. His open hands fell to her lap as she buried her face. Robert straightened, sitting back on his heel, he watched as Cora slipped towards the brink. She had put all the blame on him, implicating him through her own prejudice, and had done nothing short of call him a murderer. He waited patiently, watching the vein in her forehead throb as she bent forward, sobbing into her hands.

"Cora?" he questioned gently as she worked to regain her composure. After a moment she sat back, her hands slowly moved down her face to rest on her cheeks. She blinked her red-rimmed eyes in to focus. They looked at each other, although much of her face remained hidden. "Robert, I don't know what to say." She murmured sadly through her fingers.

He reached forward and gently clasped her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. "Nothing, my darling."

The knot in her brow tightened as more tears slipped from her eyes.

"Right now, you don't have to say anything." He kissed the back of her hand before lacing their fingers.

They fell silent as they watched one another. Taking in each other's sadness, their eyes silently communicating more than they were able to physically say, their intimacy slowly reignited. It was Robert's turn to look away as unspoken emotion flooded him, forcing him to recognize his own role in their strife. Cora watched him with a sense of longing, and a warmth arose deep in her chest.


Robert's aching knees and back eventually got the better of him and he moved himself to the chair next to her. They continued to sit in silent contemplation for what seemed like an eternity. She sat motionless beside him, her eyes fixed on a spot in front of her. He would glance over at her every few minutes, but she appeared to be lost in thought. Finally he asked, "should we leave?"

She blinked quickly and looked up at him as though suddenly brought back to the present moment. "No," her voice was hoarse but firm. "We owe it to Mama to stay." She finished her thought by dragging her fingers under her swollen eyes. He nodded and a moment later he stood. Robert held out his hand which Cora accepted with a weak, half-smile.

She stood next to him, looking up into his eyes. Her heart was crashing in her chest. She felt embarrassed and guilty, and terribly worried about the strength of their marriage, but she also needed something from him. Cora gently squeezed his hand, and used it as leverage as she straightened her neck and lifted her chin. She slowly pressed her lips in to his. He responded quickly, returning her kiss with fervour. A tear escaped Cora's eye and as it rolled on to Robert's cheek, he pulled away.

Looking down at her he sighed a heavy, remorseful sigh before he whispered, "We'll get through this, my darling".


As the car pulled away from the Dower House, Robert sat back in his seat and sighed lightly before looking over to Cora. "That wasn't too bad," referring to the remainder of their stay. His eyes then looked past her, out the window, watching his Mama's prize gardens move past them. Cora nodded in agreement, watching the scenery from the same window as Robert. The conversation was superficial and pleasant enough, not getting in to sensitive areas or calling out the elephant in the room.

Everything now was beginning to feel like a blur, with only the physical reminders left to nag at them. Robert's touch felt foreign as he placed his hand over hers. She glanced up; he was watching her intently, as though trying to telepathically figure out her thoughts. "Have you been sleeping?" He asked cautiously. She closed her eyes and shook her head. He nodded, "I suspected as much."

He squeezed her hand, the feeling of her thin, cold fingers within his. "And eating?"

Appearing defeated by his question she pulled her hand from his, and placed it in her lap. Looking down she pushed her loose wedding band in to place with her baby finger, "I haven't been hungry," was all she offered in response.

Robert was transported back in time, remembering how thin and weary she looked while she struggled to recover from the Spanish Flu, and Dr. Clarkson's insistence that she work on maintaining a healthy weight. "I'll ask Mrs. Patmore to send up a tray." Cora turned her head to look over at him. Offering to have a tray sent up meant he relinquished her from her evenings obligations, without a fight. She smiled weakly, grateful for his understanding.

The conversation between them, at least for Robert, was getting easier and he carried on to his next thought. "When we get back, I'll need to find Anna, to hear what Murray has said."

Cora furrowed her brow, "I'm sorry," she glanced to her hands and then back to Robert, "I wasn't listening when you explained this to Mama." She paused, as her face turned serious. "Have they set him free, then?" She made sure to focus on his words as he re-explained what had happened earlier that morning. She asked a few probing questions, about things that had occurred over the past 2-weeks, and eventually she had a sound understanding of Bates' struggles. Robert quickly carried on with a paraphrased version of his own troubles with Matthew and the estate, and how his thoughts had been clouded lately which was sure to prompt another, potentially uncomfortable, conversation with their son-in-law.

As much as she tried to stay attentive, her ruminative thoughts betrayed her. The car turned up Downton's long laneway and Robert prattled on, shifting the conversation back to Bates, and his relief to have his proper valet back. Cora's thoughts drifted as her eyes wandered down to Robert's hand that sat resting on his thigh, the skin looking particularly angry set against his dark pants. She reached forward; her fingers gently touched the swollen knuckles. Slowly Cora moved her hand to cover his, watching as the injured skin was hidden beneath her touch. She wanted to ask what had happened, but knew he wouldn't tell her, and figuring it would eventually come out, as things usually did, she decided not to press for answers.

She watched as he lifted his thumb, brushing it over her baby finger. Not sure when he fell silent, but when he did speak again it brought her attention back. "We're here." Cora looked up and saw the driver making his way around the car and Carson, followed by Mary and Edith, coming out the front door. She turned back to Robert, an uneasiness stirred within her. She knew her appearance would be unsettling to their daughters. The driver pulled the car door open.

"You go up," Robert looked past her towards Mary and Edith, "I'll talk to them."

The driver helped Cora out of the car and she stepped away, giving Robert a chance to climb out. "We'll talk later," he said before landing a quick kiss the side of her cheek. She nodded and kept her head down as they started walking towards the house. Cora slowed as she approached her daughters. Without stopping she gently grasped their hands and gave a reassuring squeeze as she passed them, and then quickened her pace as she moved in to the house. Leaving both the girls confused and worried, and looking to Robert for answers.

As Cora went up the stairs, Robert and the girls filed in to the foyer. He caught Carson's eye and asked if he would be kind enough to fetch Anna, as he was eager for an update. Carson nodded and turned away, leaving just Lord Grantham and the girls.

"What happened at Granny's?" Edith asked, searching her father's face for a clue.

"Let's go in to the Library," he offered, holding his hand out to direct them. "I'll explain it all."

Neither of his daughters moved.

Robert sighed and gave them a knowing smile. "Everything is alright. She'll be fine," he started, referring to their mother. "It's fine."

Mary exhaled, as thought she had been holding her breath the entire time they'd been standing there. "What a relief." She mumbled to Edith.

Robert looked at them both, suddenly overcome with guilt as he realized that throughout their recent struggles both he and Cora had unintentionally neglected their elder daughters. "Please," he nodded reassuringly. "I'll explain everything."

Mary and Edith reluctantly entered the library and moved towards the sofa. They sat next to one another and he sat across from them. Robert was about to begin when Carson returned with Anna.


The remainder of the afternoon and in to the early evening was filled with conversation. Anna explained everything that Mr. Murray had told her; the formalities surrounding his release from prison and a pending date for his return to Downton. Robert granted Anna all the time and support she could need, which of course she was grateful for. He went on to share Dr. Clarkson's refined understanding of Sybil's death, how nothing could have been done to save her, regardless of which doctor he had listened to. However in the end Robert declared he was wrong to put so much faith in Sir Philip Tapsell, and that this whole awful experience had taught him a great lesson. And "yes", he reassured his daughters, he and their mother were talking.


When O'Brien went to her Ladyships room, Cora's puffy face and red eyes took her aback. "Are you alright, M'Lady?"

"Yes, O'Brien." Cora glanced in the mirror, mildly amused by the shock on her maid's face. "I'm alright."

"His Lordship has instructed that a tray be sent up for your dinner." O'Brien paused with a perplexed look. She found it odd that Lord Grantham was making this request when to her knowledge her ladyship was willfully choosing her own mind these days. "Is that what you'd like?"

"Yes, thank you." Cora moved over to the bed. "But not just now," she sat down. Lifting her hands she began fussing with her hat. "Maybe in an hour, I need to lie down."

"Very good M'Lady," O'Brien could sense a shift in Cora, and she despised not possessing all the facts.

"I don't know what, exactly, Lord Grantham has requested, but please tell Mrs. Patmore not to go to any trouble."

"Yes M'Lady." O'Brien responded curtly, and moved to help her Ladyship with her hat. "I'll wait for you to ring?"

"Very good." Cora mumbled. "I think I'll have a bath later...after I eat." She looked up at O'Brien with a soft smile and then shifted herself further up, on to the bed.

"M'Lady," O'Brien nodded before excusing herself.


Robert was hopeful when he approached her room. He had just finished dressing for dinner and he wanted to check in on her. He knocked and when she didn't answer he quietly peeked around the door. She was nowhere to be seen; yet he noticed the door to the bathroom stood ajar. He leaned in, straining to listen and gradually he made out the sounds of her soft, woeful sobs. He heard Cora murmur Sybil's name and had to work to swallow past the lump in his throat. All their grieving up to that point had been fuelled by anger and shadowed by blame. Now Cora's crying was simply sad and mournful, filled with the tragic cadence of life's insufferable cruelty. He opted not to disturb, although wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Despite their earlier nudge towards reconciliation, he knew that time and space would continue to be an ally.