Author's Note: I do NOT own any of the characters in this story! They all belong to Mr. Julian Fellowes.

Also:

This chapter is sooooooooooooooo long. 16 1/2 pages on word and almost 5000 words...yeah. But bear with me because this is the first scene that I ever thought of and the one i've been itching to write.

So, I hope it sounds good and I hope you like it!

One more chapter! EEEEEEEEKKK!

If you're willing, please leave me a review or even just a comment! Every little bit of encouragement means the world to me and assures me I'm not doing this fo r nothing.

and please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes.

Much Love, xoxo


Twelve weeks.

Anna had now gone three whole months without a visit to or a letter from her husband.

She had completely given up. He had, and so she did too.

In many ways, Anna had lost herself when she lost John. She was not the same person she had been before.

Not even close.

In the last three weeks, Anna had become someone that she didn't even recognize anymore. She would stare at herself in the ballroom mirror, trying to find the woman she used to be.

However, no matter how hard and long she searched and searched, she couldn't seem to find a single trace of the old Anna.

In her place, stood an extremely thin, extremely pale, woman. Her cheeks had sunken slightly in their frames. Her eyes had lost their brightness and they were now bordered by dark purple. Her hair had lost is shine and looked dull at the best of times.

She had given up on trying to look professional during the day and as though there was not something wrong. There was something wrong, and everyone knew it. So why try to hide it?

While she worked, she moved slower, not seeming to have the energy she used to have. Her mornings were long and she found herself arriving late to Lady Mary's room for dressing changes. And Mary had noticed, and Anna knew it, but Mary never said anything. Anna figured Mary knew how difficult the situation was and she figured she must be able to see its toll it had taken, just as clearly as Anna saw it in the mirror.

She only sees the physical toll. She only sees what it's done to me on the outside.

What about what it's done to me on the inside?

But Anna didn't really care that people could see. They always saw, but they never speak.

They're afraid. They don't want to insult me. They don't want to offend me. They pity me.

But I pity myself enough already. I insult myself enough already.

She knew she fell. She knew she was still falling. She knew she wasn't the same. And she knew why.

John.

But she didn't do anything about it. She couldn't do anything about it. If she did, it wouldn't work, and she would end up right back where she was: at the bottom of a deep, dark, and cold hole, without any type of ladder to get her out.

But quite frankly, there was a part of Anna that didn't really want to do anything about it. She welcomed all of the pain she felt. Feeling the intense pain was better than feeling nothing at all.

When she lost John, she lost happiness. She lost herself. Then, she had the dancing. But that had become destructive. And now, it was another source of pain to fill the void.

She didn't want to feel numb. She wanted to feel something. She needed to feel something. And pain was the only thing left. The only thing she was capable of.

So every night, she'd go to the ballroom, just as she'd done so many times before. She would dance harder, faster, more ferociously than she had ever thought possible. She would push herself harder and harder. She would dance in ways that made her ankles give out and her toes bend and bleed and her knees buck under her weight, causing her to fall to the floor. And she'd wince a little, but she liked it. She savored the pain. And then she'd get right back up and do it all over again.

She would spin and spin and spin. She would close her eyes and let herself go, going as fast as she possibly could. She would lose her sense of direction, and then she would end up running into the furniture piles. She'd hit them hard, hard enough to knock pieces off the piles.

But she wouldn't stop. She'd wince at the impact, and embrace the pain that would shoot through her body.

She would bounce off of the discarded items and find her way back to the center of the room.

She would repeat the process until she was black and blue all over. Every single part of her body. Her legs, her knees, her hips, her chest, her ribs, and her shoulders as well.

When it was close to dawn, she'd go back to her room and somberly examine herself in her mirror, her bruised body staring back at her.

He doesn't want me. I don't either.

No one would ever want me.

The tears would fall as she collapsed on her bed. Sometimes, she'd lie awake, and sometimes she'd sleep for the next hour or two until Daisy came to wake her up.

So she'd get up and begin her day. And she'd wander through the motions. And she'd smile when appropriate, but it was never a true smile.

I don't think I'll ever smile a real smile again.


That weekend, the Crawley's were hosting a rather large party of people at the house. It was going to be a full house and the entire staff had been put on red alert and their best behaviors. They would all be given extra work and many more duties. For Anna, she has temporarily been given the title of Head Housemaid to help guide and keep control of the younger maids throughout the weekend.

Everyone was arriving on Friday evening, just before dinner. So when Friday morning came, the house was in full swing and running wild.

Anna went about her morning, getting Mary, as well as Edith, dressed and ready for the day, helping the other maids clean and prepare for the guests, and preparing clothing and other things for dinner that night and the nights to come.

Amidst all of the preparations, Anna had to take breaks to help with lunch, eat lunch herself, change Lady Mary's clothes once more, and change herself for the afternoon.

The rest of the afternoon went on the same as the morning: chaotic, busy, and filled with work. Dusting and washing, and dusting again. Anna had been in the drawing room and dining room five times each, all before 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

When tea time came around, Anna felt more exhausted than she had in weeks. As she sipped her tea, she couldn't help but close her eyes and try to relax.

I guess I'll actually sleep tonight.

But then her relaxing moment was interrupted by Mrs. Hughes hustling into the room, "Anna? Oh, Anna! There you are! Are you busy?"

Anna looked down at her half-empty cup of tea in front of her, "umm…"

"Oh, good! I need you to head up to the west wing of the second floor and help the younger maids make up the rest of the bedrooms. They have around five more to do, and guests will be arriving any minute!"

Before Anna could protest or ask any questions, Mrs. Hughes had turned, and left the room.

Anna glanced at Thomas across the table, who then raised his eyebrows and smirked.

In that moment, Anna didn't want anything more than to reach across the table and slap him across the face. She could feel herself glaring at him.

He took John's job. He doesn't deserve it. After everything he's done to the Crawley's, the staff, and specifically John. He's part of the reason John's in prison.

He's probably part of the reason John gave up! John didn't want to have to deal with Thomas anymore, so he stopped fighting to get out! He gave up! Because Thomas -

"Anna?" Her thoughts were cut off and her head turned towards the sound of her name. It was Mr. Carson. "Aren't you going to help the maids?"

"Oh…yes. I'm going now." With that, she picked up her tea cup and drank the rest in one large swallow. She savored the burn she felt from the scorching liquid running down her throat.

She then stood from the table and pushed her chair in. She took one last glance at Thomas and saw another smirk spread across his face, this one larger than the last. She glared as she passed him, resisting the urge for violence.

As she began to make her way up the stairs, her brow was in a permanent furrow. Her blood was boiling, her anger was rising rapidly, and adrenaline was coursing through her body faster than she had ever felt before.


As she made her way up to the second floor, she tried to calm herself down. She knew she was angry and she didn't want to take it out on the younger maids.

They didn't do anything. They wouldn't deserve it.

She kept walking, making her way through the house's glorious and magnificent hallways. She was concentrating on controlling her breathing, slowing her pulse, her anger. She was not paying attention to where in the house she was. She knew where she was going. After all these years, her body had memorized its way to the west wing.

But she didn't realize where she was going.

And she didn't realize it until she turned a corner and looked up from her feet, down a long hallway. She stopped dead in her tracks, anxiety creeping up her spine.

At the end of the hallway, was a door. A door to a bedroom.

Her bedroom. Their bedroom.

The bedroom in which she and her husband had solidified their marriage in. The bedroom she had become his in.

But she wasn't his anymore.

And in the hallway outside the room, just in front of the door, stood a maid. She stood still, facing Anna. And Anna mirrored her, just staring at the girl down the hall. And then her mind went fuzzy, and her ears were ringing.

She watched the maid, standing there. And she saw her lips move, and her hand gestured towards the bedroom, but Anna didn't hear. She didn't hear, and she didn't understand.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She opened them again and the ringing in her ears got louder. And she looked again at the maid, watching her mouth move even more, but again, she didn't hear anything.

And the anxiety increased and her breathing grew faster. Faster and shorter and as if she wasn't really breathing at all.

And then her vision started to blur in front of her. No matter how many times she blinked the blurring would not stop. And the maid in front of her turned into the image of John.

Standing in the hallway, by the bedroom door.

Waiting for her.

Watching her as she came towards him.

Smiling at her.

And she smiled back. And for the first time in a long time, the smile that spread across her face actually felt real.

As she looked down the hall, down the hall at John, she felt this overwhelming urge to run over to him. To hug him and kiss him and tell him how much she missed him and how much she loved him.

And the urge took over.

And her feet began moving of their own accord. They began to take her forward. One foot in front of the other.

She felt herself moving. She felt her feet hitting the ground. She felt her body shake with every step.

But John wasn't getting any closer.

With each step Anna took, it seemed like he was getting farther away from her.

He was fading away.

And her smile faded as well.

And the ringing in her ears began to dull.

And her vision began to clear, only to be blurred again, this time by tears.

And the maid in the hallway appeared before her again, now only a few feet away.

"Anna?"

It wasn't his voice. He wasn't there.

Her mind had tricked her.

"Anna? Are you alright?"

She shook her head, trying to clear it so she could focus. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took in a breath. She concentrated on the maid in front of her.

What was her name? Clare? No. Not Clare. Marie? No. No, no, no, no. Oh, what is her name?

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, searching her brain for the right name.

Usually I'm really good with names. Why can I not remember her name?

She searched her memory, looking for anything that would help her remember this girl's name.

Ruth!

"Yes, Ruth. I'm fine."

But you're not.

She shook her head, trying to get rid of the small voice inside her head.

"Perfectly fine."

No. You're not.

He's not here. He'll never be here again.

He doesn't want you. He gave up.

After everything you've been through, he gave up.

He gave up on you.

"Anna?"

Her head snapped up, focusing on Ruth again. She hadn't realized she'd been staring at the ground. And she hadn't realized the tears falling again from her eyes.

"Anna, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

No.

"I'm okay. I promise. What did you need help with?"

"Well, we have this bedroom here to finish putting the sheets on the bed and preparing it for the guests. Then, we have to head to the East hall and we have four more rooms to do over there. But there's only three of us, and it takes at least two to do a room adequately, and so we can only do one room at a time, and the guests will be here any minute now…Anna?"

She hadn't heard the majority of what Ruth had just said. Her brain went fuzzy yet again when she had gestured towards the bedroom in front of them.

She had glanced towards the door, not realizing it was open. But then she couldn't take her eyes from the room. She had a perfect view of the bed and her memories ran wild, thinking of that single, perfect night she and John had spent in the room.

She remembered every detail. And as she stared into the room now, she began to see the candles everywhere. And then John appeared on the bed. It was as if he was beckoning her to join him.

And she wanted to. She wanted to more than anything.

More tears welled up in her eyes. And John began to fade yet again. And those tears began to fall down her face. And Anna couldn't hold it in any longer. She couldn't hold in the tears, she couldn't hold in the sadness, or the anger, or the frustration, or the depression.

I can't do this anymore.

"Anna?"

Her head snapped back to the maid. Her face was one of pure concern.

"Anna, you're crying. Are you absolutely sure you're alright?"

This time, Anna didn't wipe the tears away. She let them fall, and she let them fall freely.

She shook her head. She took in a few shaky breaths.

No.

"You know, umm…well, I thought I was okay." More shaky breaths. "But…I really don't think I am. No, I know I'm not."

She shook her head again, and she couldn't hold back the sobs that were now rising to the surface. She felt as though she was choking on the air around her.

She looked again at Ruth standing in front of her. The maid's face had now turned to fear and pity.

"He's gone. He gave up." Her voice began to rise through the sobs. Her blood was boiling yet again, and there was no way of stopping it this time. "He gave up on himself. He gave up on me. He gave up on us! How could he do that!? Why would he do that!? After everything we've been through! I thought we would be able to survive anything!"

I thought we'd be able to survive anything.

"Anna? Who gave up? Who are you talking about?" Ruth took a few steps forward, closing the gap between her and Anna.

How could he? How could he just give up like that? I gave him everything!

I loved him! I gave him all of me! I let him in even though he didn't want me!

He never wanted me.

How could he just give up? How could he lie to me like he did?

He lied to me.

Anna didn't notice the shortening gap between them. She was lost in her own thoughts, her own anger, her own frustration. It was bubbling over and she couldn't stop it.

So when Ruth came forward and placed a hand on Anna's shoulder, Anna flinched violently and was brought back to the present.

Ruth's face had turned to what looked like pure terror, and there were tears in her eyes as well.

Anna shook her head again. "I'm sorry, Ruth…I, umm—I have to go."

With that, she turned and walked away, with a strong ferocity in her steps. And the ringing in her ears began again and the tears continued to fall.

She had one destination in her mind and she was not going to stop until she got there.


She didn't know how long she had been there. It had felt like five minutes, but she was sure it was much more than that.

Maybe an hour? Two?

The music had ended long ago.

And she knew she'd be needed for dinner. And she knew she had a ton of other things to do.

But she couldn't move. Her body, her mind, wouldn't let her.

She sat silent on the floor of the ballroom, next to the mirror. She was staring into the part of the mirror that she had shattered with her head.

She stared into the glass, seeing the cracks spread across her face. Because that was how she felt: shattered, and broken, and beyond repair.

And she rocked her form as she sat there, arms pulling her knees close to her chest.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

He doesn't love me. He never loved me. He lied to me!

He lied to me, and he used me!

And he gave up!

How could he just give up!? After everything!

He said he loved me! He promised me! We vowed it to each other!

He lied!

Then, she was up on her feet. She looked in the mirror again at herself. Her face was bright red with rage.

How could he?

Her hands curled into fists and they began to shake. The anger was spreading throughout her body.

She kicked off her shoes and began to pace.

Her feet slid across the wooden floors, fast paced and silent.

She felt like she was going to explode. There was so much that she had held inside. So much that she kept to herself and never told anyone.

And now, all of those pent-up emotions and thoughts were bursting at her seems, and there was no way to hold them back.


As she walked down the upstairs hallway, Mrs. Hughes had absolutely no idea that there was something wrong.

While everyone was preparing for dinner, she thought she would make one last sweep through the house to make sure everything was in order for the guests. And as far as she could tell, the house seemed impeccable. Everything appeared to be in order and prepared to the correct standards of the house.

It wasn't until a concerned-looking Lady Mary Crawley approached her that something seemed to be amiss.

"Ah! Mrs. Hughes! Have you seen Anna?"

"Anna, Milady?"

"Yes. Anna. The dressing gong was rung an hour ago and she hasn't been to my room yet. Edith hasn't seen her either. Do you know where she might be?"

Mrs. Hughes really didn't know where Anna could be. "Well, milady, I asked her to help the younger maids to finish preparing the bedrooms for this weekend's guests, and she went, but that was over an hour and a half ago. And the younger maids have all returned downstairs since then."

The housekeeper didn't understand where Anna could have gone and why she would just disappear like this. It wasn't like her.

"Could she be downstairs now?"

"It's possible. I'll go down now and check."

With that, Mrs. Hughes turned on her heel and headed back down the hall. But she felt a presence behind her so she turned around to find Lady Mary just behind her. "Milady?"

"I'm coming with you, if you don't mind."

"Really, milady, it's no trouble. There's no need for you to come all the way downstairs."

"I want to. This isn't like Anna. She would never go missing like this. Something's wrong."

Mrs. Hughes gave a curt nod. "Yes, milady."

She turned and led the way downstairs. Once there, the Housekeeper and Mary searched the servant's hall and the kitchen with no sign of her. They asked Mr. Carson, Mrs. Patmore, and the majority of the staff if they had seen her.

None of them had.

Mary now had a look of pure fear on her face. She was worried. "What about her room?"

Again, Mrs. Hughes gave another nod and led the way back upstairs, this time to the attics, to check Anna's room.

On their way up the stairs, they ran into the three younger maids, Ruth at the front of the group.

"Oh! Ruth! You wouldn't happen to know where Anna went after she helped you with the bedrooms, do you?"

The young girl and the two behind her looked absolutely terrified. Ruth's face lost all color.

"Ruth?"

The girl swallowed and took a breath before saying, "She…she didn't help us with the bedrooms."

"What do you mean she didn't help you? I asked her to, and I saw her leave, up the stairs, on her way to you."

"Well, she came upstairs. I was waiting in the hallway for her. She came upstairs but then she got really weird. She started crying and she was shaking. She said she was fine, but she didn't look alright. She kept saying something about giving up. And about how someone had lied to her. But then she said she had to go and she left."

The housekeeper turned and looked at Lady Mary, her expression of concern only growing in severity. They needed no words to understand the importance and urgency of the situation.

They both pushed past the maids to hurry up the stairs.

Once in the attic hallway, the housekeeper knocked on the door a few times with no answer before opening the door to find the room empty.

Exasperated, Mrs. Hughes closed the door and sighed, throwing her arms up in defeat. "Oh, heavens! Where could she be!?"

The two women stared at each other, at the floor, and at the walls before it finally dawned on Lady Mary where Anna must be.

"The ballroom."


She was angry.

More angry then she could ever remember being before in her life.

She could not get the thought of John's broken promises and lies out of her head.

How could he!?

That horrible, lying, bastard!

She couldn't hold it in any longer. She needed to let the anger out.

So she ran over to the pile of furniture, picked off a chair, and threw it down against the floor, breaking and splintering the wood.

And she liked it.

So she picked up another chair and threw it down. It broke and pieces flew off, a few hitting her in the legs.

He

Deserves

Prison.

He

Lied

To

Me.

She ran over and with all her strength, tipped over an armoire, sending it falling to the floor. It broke into pieces and sent shards flying everywhere, the knobs of the door skittering across the floor to the other side of the room.

And it felt so good.

So Anna continued to break the furniture. She sent piece after piece to the floor. Chairs and dressers and armoires and settees. All over the floor.

And she could feel the sweat dripping down her back with each throw. But she didn't care.

Soon, the floor was filled with pieces of broken furniture to the point where she could barely move. But she pushed through and continued on.

He lied to me!

He told me he loved me!

He used me!

I fought for him!

I defended him!

I loved him!

But he didn't' love me!

He lied!

And he gave up!

Her heart rising to her throat, she choked out a loud sob.


The two women hurried down the hall, Lady Mary leading. Mrs. Hughes had no idea where she was going. But as Mary turned a corner, they began to hear very loud and extremely large bangs and crashes and thumps and cracking and breaking.

And they quickened their pace and began to run.

Before she knew it, Lady Mary had stopped in front of two double doors with a sign on the door that said 'Ballroom.'

The banging was louder and from inside, they could hear short sobs and cries along with screaming and shouting and heavy breathing.

"This is it. She's in here."

"In here? Why?"

Lady Mary put her hand on the knob, twisted, and pushed the door open, letting herself enter.


He doesn't love me!

He never loved me!

He gave up!

He stopped writing!

He never wanted any of it!

I gave him everything!

And he gave up on everything!

The tears were streaming down her face. She couldn't stop them.

And the anger was boiling over.

And the depression came flooding back.

And she was frustrated and scared.

And she didn't hear the door to the ball room open, nor the two sets of footsteps entering the room.

She was too caught up. Too focused on her thoughts.

And she couldn't hear the shouting of her name over the ringing of her ears and the crashing of furniture around her.

He broke my heart.

He lied to me and he used me.

After throwing a chair to the ground, she froze and looked at herself in the mirror.

She was red-faced and tear-streaked. Her hair was a mess. Her dress was ripped and dirty.

The ringing in her ears grew louder and louder.

She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears with her hands.

Still, the ringing grew louder.

More tears came and she screamed.

She glanced at herself in the mirror once again before running and grabbing another chair from the diminishing piles of furniture.

She picked it up, turned, and with all of her strength, threw it at the mirror. It hit with a loud bang, and then the entire wall of glass shattered into a million pieces. They fell to the floor with an echoing crash and some of them flew back at Anna.

As the echoes began to fade, exhaustion swept over Anna and she collapsed to the floor amidst all of the dust and glass and broken furniture. She curled up into a ball on the floor, a piece of glass against her face, piercing the skin.

She covered her face with her hands and began to sob uncontrollably, shaking violently. She was choking on the air around her.

And then she flinched when she felt fingertips on her shoulder. She looked up through blurry tears to see a figure kneeling next to her. She didn't know who it was. And she didn't have the strength to wipe the tears away.

"Anna? Anna, it's me, Mary."

Anna tried to focus on her face, but she just couldn't. She hurt too much.

Her eyes hurt, her arms, her legs, her feet, her head, her heart.

"Anna?" Lady Mary's voice was as soft as her touch on Anna's shoulder but Anna still shuddered at the contact, and at the sound.

After a few more minutes of silence, Anna fought her own body and tried to speak.

"He…He lied. He ga…he gave…up."

"Who? Anna, who gave up?"

"J—John…John."

"Bates?"

"He…he doesn't…love me. He…never did. He used…me. And he…he broke me. I—I'm broken. He…he broke my—my heart. For…Forever."

I'm broken.

I'm shattered.