Mr./Ms. Anon asked on tumblr: 24 "(He)She was unconscious when I found (him)her"

Lo let's try something about the pre-series younger Cobert. This goes with 'glow' (chapter 2) and it's set at the end of the Second Boer War.
Hope you like it!

Missing Moment (Middle May 1902) – 1280 words


"Cora!" Rosamund didn't think twice before kneeling down beside the fragile figure of her sister-in-law, unceremoniously laying on the carpet's library, pale and worn out. "Carson, what happened?" she didn't dare to move her, afraid she could have caused some more damages. She fixed her piercing eyes on the butler, his impeccable behaviour now totally lost.

"I don't know, Milady." he paused "She was unconscious when I found her and- and I sent the coachman to the Hospital to find the doctor and then I called for you-" he drew a sharp breath.

"Good. Carson, please fetch me some cold water and a towel."

"At once, Milady." Rosamund tried to smooth her nerve with long breaths.
It was then when she saw the small envelope Cora was holding with her right hand: a letter. A letter from South Africa.

My dear Lady Grantham,
We regret to inform you that the bravery of the Lieutenant Robert P. Crawley led to his premature decease on April 28
th 1902…


Four years. Four years of burning hell, of deafening bombs, frightening silent nights and scarier loud days; four years of dust, sweat, smell of blood and black powder, of yelling and runs and cries and dreams about home, peace, loving arms and safeness.
Four years of war. Now he was coming home.
With Cora's portrait in his hands, he was coming home. Home, finally.

He was coming back to his lovely wife, his children, Mary and Edith – two young ladies now – and little Sybil, tiny Sybil, so young when he left, he wandered if she would have even remembered his face.

His fingers went on his scratchy skin, rough from his beard and from the sun, he knew his family would have looked so much paler than him, now. He smiled.

And he laughed when Downton Abbey, with its yellow facades, appeared beyond the gates, magnificent and severe from the high spires. The smell of grass and the oak forest so familiar to him, so intoxicating, the smell of home, which he learnt to recognise since childhood. Home, home.

He almost flew off the car, his jacket on his arm, his hat on his head. He wasn't expecting the whole family to greet him, in fact he'd planned a surprise, mainly to have a proper reunion with his Cora, who had been his glow for so much time, his hope, his moon, his guidance; he wanted a moment, even few seconds just with her, and he wanted to be the firsts moments home. Just her, just them. No ceremonies, no familiars, just his wife.

He was surprised, though, by the absence of Mr. Carson at the front door, looking with a scowl to the unidentified car which was approaching to the manor. Robert didn't wish for a line of servants and relatives, but he did hope for his old butler's presence.. at least for the luggages.

Robert waited patiently for his case, paid the taxi and lifted his dubious eyes toward the dark front door, silently and firmly shut closed. It was just impossible that no one had heard him arrive.

He pulled the chain and listened carefully to the soft sound he produced, curving his lips into a disappointment face when one of the younger footman opened the door.

"Milord?!" he was shocked to find him there and fussed to opening the entrance completely.

"Yes, that's me." he stated proudly, striving to maintain his composure, too happy to see his home, the hall, to smell the familiar scent, the stairs, the pictures.. "Where's everybody?"

"Milord.."

"You look like you've seen a ghost!" he chuckled, patting his shoulder while passing him by. What time was it? Surely the girls were in the nursery which meant that Cora was either in the library or in the sitting room.

"Please Cora!" ah! The library. Robert didn't mind, at first, the utter concerned voice of his sister, but he had to when, entering the room, his eyes laid on the scene before him: his sister sitting on the carpet, near Cora, who was also on the ground, unconscious, with her dark curls scattered around her face.

"What's going on here?" Rosamund turned sharply to him, freezing on the spot with a damp towel in the mid-air.

"Robert?" he wasn't listening, too much concerned for his wife's health. She looked so much paler than the last time he saw her, her lips were much thinner and pallid, her neck so slim, her chest and arms so skinny. "Why on earth does everyone look like they've seen a ghost?"

He was surprised, so surprised when Rosamund hugged him, strong, like they were kids.

"You're alive!"

"I am very much alive!" he stated louder, glancing in shock his sister. Rosamund showed him the paper and everything became crystal clear.

His wife, his poor fragile wife, after months, years of agonizing misery, fear, waiting had received the false news of her husband's death. He would have most certainly died if the table were turned. "It's all right, Rosie." he briefly smoothed his sister cries before scooping his wife into his arms, reassuring the woman that everything was going to be fine from that moment on.

"The doctor's arriving." Rosamund sniffed.

"Go host him. I'll take her in her room."


Warm tears rolled down his cheeks. He was happy, so happy and yet concerned for his wife. How he longed for her eyes to be open, to see those blue diamonds sparkling in front of him, like the ocean surface under the summer's sun, how he longed for her voice, sweet and gentle, so reassuring with the melody which reminded him of home, how he longed for her lips, so soft and welcoming.

"Oh Cora.." a sharp breath escaped his lips. His hand squeezed hers, cold and tiny , more like a child's one, into his palm. She'd suffered, she'd suffered as much as him.. his fragile, young Cora seemed she aged soon and quickly during his absence, pale and thin.. maybe the tired look on his wife was the same he carried. Yet she was so beautiful, even in her sleep, like always, exactly how he imagined her during all his nights, sleeping beside him, her breath caressing his face through the heat.
His beauty. His sleeping beauty.

He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, fearing his raspy fingers could have hurt her and soon he realized he couldn't wait any longer: he kissed her. He kissed her dearly, devotedly, tenderly.
His tears reached her face.

"Cora," he breathed out, sitting on the edge of his seat when her lids trembled "Wake up, my dearest darling." he squeezed her hand again, getting closer and closer when she began to turn her head slightly on the pillow. "It's me."

Robert held his breath when she blinked her eyes, smiling when the familiar colour, yet so special and unique, found his light blue eyes, watery and red from the long sobbing.

"Robert-" Cora's voice died into her throat. She shot herself up, throwing her body into his embrace, strong, firm, warm, with the scent of home, real home, once again. "You're alive."

"I am." he caressed her hair, rubbing her back to smooth her endless cries "It's over now. I got lost into the enemy territory but I found my way back. I guess they thought I was dead but- I found my way home." he hesitantly parted from her, cupping her face with his hand, wiping away her tears with his thumbs "I had to come back to you." he kissed her forehead, finding himself once again with his wife between his arms. The most beautiful sensation in the world.
Home, home.