A/N: About time for John to get out of prison, don't you think? Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter. It had a mind of its own! But I wanted to get it just right.

As always, I claim to be no expert on the British legal system. So John's appeal may be complete rubbish, but I figured it was high time he received some quality counsel (hint, hint Julian Fellowes).

Thanks for continuing to read and review. It helps keep the motivation going!

Chapter 12

January 12th, 1920

11:45am

Wandsworth Prison

"Here you go, mate." The prison guard handed John his gray suit. "The Warden said to go ahead and get changed. Someone will come fetch you when your family arrives to take you home."

Family. He smiled at the word. Anna would arrive shortly to take him away from this place. And very soon they would indeed be a complete family. The thought of becoming a father within the month almost brought him to his knees. Part of him was scared witless, but mostly he was absolutely giddy in anticipation. He couldn't stop smiling. John Bates, giddy. Would miracles never cease? His smile increased further.

"Thank you very much." John took the items and started to turn around, but the guard continued to stand in the cell's doorway.

"I just wanted to say, me and the other guards are glad things got sorted out for you. None of us likes seein' an innocent man stuck in here with all these bounders. Just ain't right . . . especially you with that pretty wife of yours about to have a baby." The guard shyly shook his head. "I got a babe at home and another on the way. No child should be born without a father."

"I definitely agree. And I very much appreciate your sentiments."

The prison guard gave a brief smile and nod of acknowledgement, then closed and locked the cell door and went on his way.

There it was again. Another example. How had he been so blind all these years? How had he not seen the spark of humanity, the goodness of man? It had always been there even in his darkest days, but he had refused to recognize it. But almost having a noose around your neck tended to open up your eyes, John mused.

There had always been light in his life, but John was a stubborn man, always had been and probably would be until the day he died. Ever since Africa, he had viewed the world through extremely prejudiced lens. He had seen mankind at its worst, as wartime usually brought about, and after witnessing such horrors there, getting injured, and coming home to Vera, John choose to see himself and the whole of mankind in that same vein.

Yet the unbelievable New Year's morning rescue made John revaluate the life he had almost lost. And he came to a startling discovery. His life hadn't been the nightmare he had previously thought. He hadn't been alone. He had been blessed by the love and friendship of many.

Despite this epiphany, John was no fool. He did know that cruelty, pain and evil would always exist in the world. Only now he was able to acknowledge that decency and kindness also reigned.

Take Africa, even within the midst of death and battle, he had formed one of the most important and meaningful friendships of his life. By sheer chance, while waiting for their final medical exams before shipping off, John met Lord Grantham. His Lordship struck up a conversation with him, mostly out of nervousness. The Earl was quite apprehensive about leaving his family and seeing the "elephant" and had a penchant to chatter on and on. In John, he found a sounding board, a reassuring presence, the perfect balance to his anxiety. And though they were of different ranks and stations, John had found a friend. So for the next two year, they served side by side. They saw it all together; men killed right in front of them, civilians starved, blood running in rivers on the battlefield. They each shed tears, laughed out loud and feared the unknown. Without making his acquaintance, John might never have made it home. Only now did he truly comprehend the importance of their time together.

And what about his previous time in jail? John spent most of it wallowing in self-hate (though he did save a healthy portion for Vera too). He was a mess, no two ways about it. Yet, now that he looked back, it was the weekly mail delivery that sustained him. Every Wednesday, without fail, a letter arrived from his mother. Sometimes her letters described her everyday activities or reminisced about his childhood, but they always provided a shot of encouragement to pull himself together, get sober and make a life. He remembered how annoyed he had been with her unfaltering optimism. But the letters had served as a swift kick in the pants; they goaded him to get back on his feet and put his affairs in order upon being released. John marveled at strength and beauty of a mother's love.

Then there was his most recent predicament. He was astonished by civility that he had been shown by Warden Cox and the guards. He had been convicted of murder, for Christ's sake. Yet, he was never abused or mistreated in any way during his stay at Wandsworth. And he was simply in awe by the lengths the Warden had gone to contact old colleagues within the London Police to make sure a fair inquest into Vera's murder would occur. He didn't have to do it, but he did. There was that spark again.

And nothing amazed John more than then the dangerous trek that Branson, Mr. Crawley and the Crawley sisters endured for his benefit. They could have been injured or worse, but they were willing to risk life and limb and reputation, in Lady Mary's case, to see justice on his behalf. What remarkable people he was blessed to have crossed paths with.

Of course, the brightest of lights for the past eight years had been his Anna. Now John had always been aware from the onset of her innate goodness, her integrity and her beauty both inside and out. He hadn't been Downton long before he was lost and had fallen completely in love with her. That she would reciprocate such love had always been hard for him to wrap his mind around. How could he be worthy of such a creature? With their marriage, John had accepted their love was meant to be, there was no denying it. He had never been happier in his life to take her as his wife, but there had always been a niggling deep down that he still nwasn't creditable to be called her husband.

But that was all changing. John was finally beginning to realize he deserved a second chance. Nothing brought it home more than during one of Anna's daily visits last week. They had been discussing the state of his appeal and the new investigation into Vera's death. John expressed how surprised he was that anybody, not to mention, a warden and an Earl's family, would come to his aid in such a fantastic fashion. Anna just blinked and simply said, "You still don't get it, John. You are valued and respected. You are a kind, honest man. A good man. People care about you and they want to help . . . Believe me when I say, you are worthy of their respect and shouldn't think twice about accepting their help."

That last sentence stayed with John long after Anna left. Was he was worthy of such respect by such fine people? He thought of his life over the past decade. True, he had been a competent and faithful servant to Downton. He knew his job inside out and he did it well. Never was there a complaint. Plus, his loyalty could not be questioned. He had been willing to leave Downton, sacrifice his love for Anna, to protect the family name. Also, during this time he had always taken the honorable path whether it had been in his relationship with Anna or dealing with those who wished him ill such as Thomas and O'Brien. Perhaps he was worthy of being held in such esteem by others after all.

The burgeoning knowledge of self-worth made John finally realize that . . . yes . . . he did merit a second start in life. If so many others thought John was capable and good, then, by God, maybe he was. All John knew was that he would pledge his all his future labor, capital, hopes and dreams to provide a fine life for Anna and their children. They deserved. Hell, he deserved it. Yes, John decided, he was worthy of such a life.

Amazingly, all the pieces fell into place one after another. Just yesterday, John reentered the same courtroom where less than a month earlier, he had been sentenced to die. A judge was set to hear his appeal. Even though Mr. Cameron and Mr. Crawley assured him with all the new evidence, especially Richard Carlisle's suicide note, his conviction was bound to be overturned, John couldn't help being on edge as he was led to the defendant's box. Sitting down, he scanned the courtroom until his eyes found their target. There was Anna flanked by Lady Mary and Lady Sybil. Mr. Crawley and Branson sat alongside. Mr. Crawley gave him a brief nod of acknowledgement while Branson delivered a small salute. But all John saw was Anna mouthing, "I love you."

The appeal hearing was remarkably quick with Mr. Cameron succinctly laying out the case in quick order. Not only did he argue that evidence and testimony from the previous trial had been corrupted, but that new evidence clearly pointed to another suspect. It all sounded good. But John couldn't help but shut his eyes as the judge handed down his ruling. He couldn't bear to see the misery on Anna's face if the conviction stood. His heart stopped as the Judge began to speak.

"Your appeal is granted."

With those four words his heart started up again. He heard a shriek come from across the courtroom. Once again after a ruling Anna had let out a shriek, only this time it was a cry of joy. The judge further went on to explain that the Crown had until tomorrow morning to decide whether or not to pursue a retrial. If they chose not to, he would be released immediately and his record cleared of any wrongdoing.

John couldn't stop smiling as he was escorted out of courtroom and back to the prison. Their nightmare was almost over. Later in the afternoon, he met with Anna and his lawyer in the prison visitation room. Mr. Cameron promised he would send word as soon as he heard from the Crown's counsel.

As he hugged Anna goodbye, she whispered, "This will be our last night apart. Tomorrow you will be sleeping by my side."

"I certainly hope so."

"Me too. I really want to test out that old wives' tale I mentioned to you on New Year's."

It took John a few seconds to realize what she was referencing. By then, Anna was already on her way out the door. What a naughty girl he had married, and just when he thought he couldn't love her anymore. John threw back his head and laughed.

He had only managed a few hours sleep. His leg wasn't even bothering him, but his insomnia kept him awake. But it wasn't brought on by worry or fear, only anticipation. With his new sense of value, he was confident that fate wouldn't be so cruel as to put him through another trial. It wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be right. And it was about time things went right for him and Anna.

Then the miracle was confirmed when Warden Cox appeared in front of John's cell soon after he had returned from breakfast.

"I just got word from your lawyer."

"And. . ." Even though he was usually a patient man, John wanted to burst.

"Looks like you better start packing. . .There isn't going to be a retrial."

John let out the breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"Thank God." John shook his head. "It's over."

"Go ahead down to the showers and clean yourself up for when your wife arrives."

John shivered a bit as he now undressed and put his best suit, his trial suit, on and waited for a guard to come get him. His hair was longer than he'd like. It was still damp from his shower and causing his shirt collar to become sodden. He ran a hand over his cleanly shaven face. How refreshing that felt. He had become accustomed to being unkempt and scruffy during his stay at Wandsworth where he had been lucky if he got one shave a week. He always tried to have it done before Anna visited. For her, he had wanted to look his best.

And now after so many months of visits that always ended the same way, Anna departing through the steel door of the visitation room, he would be able to leave with her. He would be free and his opportunity. . . no, correct that. . . their opportunity to start anew within this world would begin.

He surveyed the small cell that had been his home for the past year. So cramped; just a cot, a toilet and a small table. One of things John looked forward to most upon arriving back at Downton would be the open space and grandeur of the home. He couldn't wait to look out the Earl's bedroom window upon the wide expanse of the front lawn. John would never take for granted the beauty of Downton again.

He went about gathering up his belongings. There wasn't much. He picked up the copy of The Rainbow from the night stand and sat down and thumbed through it. Anna was going to mad. As much as he had wanted to save the ending to read together, Lawrence was just too fine of a writer and John was too greedy of a reader. He polished it off two days after Anna handed it to him. But he rather liked the idea of snuggling in bed next to Anna and rereading it together. John grinned at the thought of where such reading might lead. It had been banned in Britain for a reason.

John laid aside the book and knelt down beside the cot. His knee strongly protested the weight placed upon it. He lowered his head to look under the cot. Once locating what he seeked, John extended one arm and pulled out a large pile of envelopes securely tied together with a string. He set them aside as he reclined on the cot and rubbed his burning knee. Despite feeling anew inside, his knee felt as old as dirt. As he rubbed, he looked down at the pile, all of Anna's letters.

She had faithfully written weekly between weekend visits. Sometimes her letters were nothing more than a recitation of the daily happening at Downton. Others served as reminders of all her hopes and dreams for their future, while some simply expressed her love for him. As much as John loved reading her words written in a neat, no-nonsense script, the fragrance that accompanied was what he looked forward to most. He wasn't sure if her letters purposefully smelled of lilacs. Had she dabbed each letter with her perfume? Or did the bouquet just float off her and settle on the paper? Whatever the case, they made him dizzy for her. And whenever he thought he couldn't go on, he pulled out pile and breathed in her essence. It fortified him until the next time he could see her.

"All right, Bates. Time to go."

John looked up to see the guard unlocking his cell. This was it. He picked up the book and letters and without a second glance walked through the open cell door.

As he walked down the long corridor of cells, John was surprised to hear clatter and shouts coming from the other inmates. Ever since his failed execution, he had become quite the celebrity at Wandsworth. Prior to that, most folks had stayed away from him, he had been convicted of murder after all. But as word spread that he had been framed and might actually be innocent, prisoners he had never spoken to, came up to him during meals and wanted to know if it was true—Was he really innocent? In a strange way, John served as a beacon of hope for the men. If he could get out of here, then maybe they had a chance too. Unfortunately, unlike John, most of them were guilty and wouldn't be seeing the light of day anytime soon.

So with shouts of "Good luck Mate", "Cheers", and "Godspeed" reigning down, John walked away from his home for the past nine months. Even though he was limping greatly, John stood tall as he left the cell block. His new life was about to begin. As he walked by the Warden's office on the way to the processing room, he was reminded how close he had been to death. It invigorated him. He straightened his posture even more. In a matter of seconds, he would be reunited with Anna and they would have each other for all time. A feeling for renewal flooded John. The processing room door opened. It would all begin here, with Anna. . .

Only Anna wasn't there.

Surprise quickly turned to alarm. Where was she? Was she all right? Was she sick? Dear God, the baby. . .

"I can tell by the look on your face, you were expecting someone else," Matthew Crawley warmly noted as he stepped forward.

"Where's Anna? John wanted to ask more, but fear was clogging up his throat.

Matthew held out his hand which John nervously took.

"No worries, old chap." Matthew assured him as he shook his hand and patted John's shoulder with his free hand. "She fine, just exhausted."

"Oh." John couldn't hide his disappointment even though he knew it was selfish on his part. After all, Anna had been with him every step of the way. She had a right to be tired. It's just that he had wanted her by his side to take those first steps together.

"Well, I guess I should elaborate. She exhausted from giving birth to your child."

John's head snapped up. The wheels of his brain turning in slow motion. "Say that again."

"After laboring through the night, she gave birth first thing this morning."

He began to process. "And she's well? The baby's healthy?"

"Yes on both accounts. I spoke with the mid-wife and she said it was one of the easiest first births she had ever delivered. Though. . ." Matthew leaned in conspiratorially. "I'll be honest, the way Mary and Sybil were scurrying around the house had me and Tom scared to death."

"I should have been there."

"Nonsense. Mrs. Potter, the mid-wife, is menacing force, like a General on the battlefield. You just take orders and stay clear of her way. Trust me, there was no way she would have let you near Anna."

John had to grin at Matthew's description. "All right, can you tell me. . ."

"No, I can't," Matthew interrupted. "I was sworn to secrecy upon penalty of death by your wife. You'll just have to wait the twenty minutes it takes to get to Grantham House to see if you are the proud father to a son or a daughter. I'm not risking my head."

John laughed. God, it felt good to do so. It seemed so natural. This new life was off to an incredible start.

Warden Cox came up from behind.

"Here you go." Handing John his cane and coat. "So I hear congratulations are in order."

"Yes, sir. Anna gave birth this morning."

"Well, please do give her my best. She is quite a woman and will make an exceptional mother."

"That she will," John paused and struggled for words. "Sir, I don't know how to thank you. What you did for me and Anna . . . I haven't the words to express the gratitude. . ."

Warden Cox put a hand out and shook his head to stop John. "Don't. I'm only glad it all worked out." He held out his hand to John. "Just promise me I won't see you in here ever again."

John shook the Warden's hand. "You have my word."

"Best of luck, Bates." With that, Warden Cox turned and left the processing room.

"Shall we be off?"

"Absolutely." He was a free man and he was ready to leave the prison behind like a snake shedding its skin.

A guard held open the heavy steel front door for them. John stepped through, leaned on his cane and took a deep breath. The cool winter air mixed with a slightly sewage smell coming from the Thames. It didn't smell good, but John didn't mind. It was the freshest air he had breathed in months because he breathed it as a free man.

"How does it feel?"

John just shook his head. He hadn't the words. He took another deep breathe.

"Well, I'd say it's time you met that child of yours."

He gave Matthew a half smile. "Right, you are."

As Matthew signaled for the driver to pull forward, the sun snuck out from behind the clouds. John tilted his face upward and basked in its warmth. A new John Bates had been born; one who was a devoted husband, a loving father and a respected employee. The baggage of the past had been left back in his cell. The sun shone down its approval.

As they made their way through London, Matthew kept up pleasant small talk. John didn't say much, content to enjoy the ride and the company. He had always liked the younger Mr. Crawley. The future Earl was intelligent and sincere, very much a man of integrity; and his middle class values would serve Downton well. The world was changing and Downton would have to be ready to adapt. As much as he was fond of Robert Crawley, John wagered that Matthew might prove to be an even more successful Earl.

". . .Mary spoke to her father and a cottage is being readied for you and Anna as we speak." At the sound Mary name, John focused in on what Matthew was actually saying.

"Thank you, Sir. That's more than generous. We appreciate everything the family's done for us over the last year. It is remarkable . . . May I ask, how is Lady Mary coping with the death of Sir Richard? This couldn't have been easy on her. "

Matthew chuckled a bit. "Better than you'd think. The police kept the scandalous part of Richard's suicide note from being leaked to the press. As far as anyone knows, he killed himself over financial failings, at least that's the story being floated around London. For Mary, it will be a lot easier to be the widow of a shoddy investor than the wife of a murderer."

He paused and looked up at John. "Actually I've never seen a widow as vibrant as her. She may be wearing black, but on the inside she's a rainbow."

"That's rather poetic."

"Well, that's a first," rumbled Matthew in a full-out laugh. "I don't know, maybe it's Mary, she makes me say and do the silliest things."

John could relate. He had done some extremely silly things upon falling in love with Anna. She had always said Mr. Crawley and Lady Mary were meant to be together. And now seeing heir of Downton slightly blush at the mention of Mary, John concluded that his wife was right. . .again. John lips curved up as his mind wandered . . . but would she be right about their child's gender? He still wasn't sold on her mother's intuition.

"Well, here we are."

Grantham House was a sprawling town house a block from Hyde Park. John had been to it often during his days as valet for Lord Grantham. But as he walked up the front steps, he realized this was the first time he would be not be using the servant's entrance.

They were greeted by the butler, Mr. Edwards. He took John's coat along with Anna's letter and The Rainbow. John gave Matthew a nervous smile. As much as he tried to stay calm, John's hands were sweaty and his heart sped up. He was about to see his child. Jesus, would be a good father? Did he have it in him? Stop it. John mentality chastised himself. You are worthy, John Bates.

Mary floated down the steps and her pleasure couldn't be hidden especially after spying Matthew.

"I thought I heard someone come in." Mary turned to John. "We are so happy to have you home."

"No more than I am to be here."

John took a furtive glance up the staircase? Was Anna up there in one of the guest rooms? Or was she in the servant's quarters?

Mary saw the path of John's eyes. "So what are we waiting for, let's get you upstairs. Anna's been asking every five minutes if you had arrived yet. She can't wait to see you." She took to the stairs beckoning the men to follow.

As they reached the top, light spilled out from the closest bedroom. John's heart proceeded to beat double time.

"Here we are. . .and congratulations, Bates. You both deserve it so much."

He knew it was rude to not acknowledge Lady Mary, but all he could do was nod his head and move to the open door.

Never had John seen a more wondrous sight in his whole entire life. There sitting up in bed, plumped up by a pile of pillows, was his Anna and cradled in her lap was a small bundle that John could only assume was their child. She hadn't noticed him in the doorway yet, so he took a moment to drink in her beauty. She was gazing down and softly whispering. Locks of hair slipped out of her loose braid and fell across her face.

John thought of the photos he had seen in a book about the Italian Renaissance, all the famous painting of the Madonna with the child Jesus. Mary was depicted so serene and content. Well, Raphael and Michelangelo creations were nothing compared to the scene in front of him now.

At the first sound of his cane upon the carpeted floor, Anna looked up. A wide smile broke across her face.

"We've been waiting for you."

Never taking his eyes off Anna, John concentrated putting one foot in front of the other as he crossed the room. His mind was muddled and his heart was full.

"Come John, meet you son, Daniel."

Upon hearing his child's name, John felt the first tears fill his eyes. My God, it was all real. He was here with Anna and their son as a free man. They were going to have a life together.

He leaned his cane upon the nightstand and sat down on top of the bedding next to Anna. He wanted to draw them into an embrace, but new father trepidation caused his to pause.

As if reading his mind, Anna assured him, "Don't worry, we're not going to break."

With that, John placed his arm around her and gently brought her to his chest. He leaned his face upon the top of her head. Her hair absorbing his tears.

"I love you, Anna," his voice cracked. "I love you."

"And I love you too, John." A teardrop fell onto his pant leg.

John pulled back. It was time he got a look at his son.

There swaddled in a cozy blue blanket was his boy. Daniel. He already liked the sound of the name. His grandfather would be proud. He was a tiny thing: tiny nose, tiny eyes, tiny ears, tiny mouth, though John didn't have any point of reference. All babies were this small, right? His face was a bit red. His hair a shock of black. His eyelids fluttered as if he knew he was being surveyed. Blue eyes stared back at John.

"Anna, he's. . .perfect."

"I knew he would be. He takes after his father."

John huffed out a small laugh. "That mother's intuition of yours again?"

"Well, it seems a little more accurate than that Irish intuition you claimed," Anna chuckled with a bit of cheek in her voice.

"So it seems."

He drew a shuddering breath and let his forehead rest upon hers. Then mirroring Anna's words on the night Daniel had been conceived, John whispered, "I am now who I was meant to be."

Anna's face radiated understanding. John had finally come full circle.

He laid his cheek upon her head and let his index finger trail down his son's face. So precious, so amazing. John could not help but see a divine hand at work. So for the first time in twenty odd years, John Bates closed eyes and offered up a prayer of thanks.

A/N: Okay folks. . .one more chapter!