Author's note:

This chapter takes place almost immediately after the last one. Please comment!

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"Why are you here?"

"Because Anna doesn't deserve this."

Mr. Bates smile wiped off his face fast. For a minute they stood staring at each other. Thomas had no right to step into the bar where he worked and demand that he come back to Downton when he worked so hard to get him fired in the first place. Of course, for once, Thomas wasn't doing this for himself; he was doing it for a girl he cared about.

Anna and Thomas hadn't been the best of friends, but they were close. They had to be in that little servants' hall for nearly ten years. No, Thomas did not like Mr. Bates at first, and why should he? He had worked hard at being a valet only to find this cripple taking his job.

Anna and Mr. Bates hadn't been together for nearly as long but they hit it off first thing. She had brought him his dinner when he was down on the first day and they made a bed together. It was the little things that made him fall in love with her. The small, polite, small spread across her face. The simple servants' dress. The fluttering laughter, and her tiny frame.

Thomas had to convince his nurse to take him into town. She needed more supplies and he needed fresh air. Now, looking at Thomas in the wheelchair, Mr. Bates didn't have the heart to turn him away. He sat on one of the stools, the bar eerily quiet since most men were out working before the lunch hour. The older man quietly analyzed the younger's complexion. He didn't fill out his clothes anymore, made more evident through the creases and folds when sitting in the chair. His arm was still in the sling and a light sheen of sweat shown on his brow, no doubt from the exertion of wheeling around with one arm.

Thomas sized up Mr. Bates also. The man physically looked the same except there were more wrinkles that seemed to form a permanent frown. The apron hooked around his stomach seemed wrong. He should be in his tidy suit, cane in one hand, coat-brush in the other. He seemed to have aged a year in a mere month.

"Shouldn't you be with a nurse?"

"Yeah, she's busy. I came to see you"

Bates scoffed, continuing wiping the counter with his rag.

"Funny, last time I went to see you"

Thomas let his gaze roam around the little pub, and pushed his wheelchair forward accidentally getting tangled in one of the stools. Mr. Bates watched on as Thomas backed up, pushed forward, but the stool peg was jammed into the spindles of the wheels. The older man started laughing, diffusing the tension. Thomas gave up, letting his good arm dangle beside him. He joined in with Mr. Bates. Both of them filled the small room with their dry mirth.

With a tug, Bates untangled the stool from the chair.

"I'll make a deal with you. I'll return to Downton soon if you stop abusing my stools"

With that, Thomas left.