A/N: Hello loves, this one's a bit short — and there are some explanatory notes at the end that you don't want to miss. Thank you for your reviews, messages here and on tumblr — I love that you love this fic, it keeps me inspired to write even when it means researching at 2 am :P
The sound of her feet hitting the ground always managed to calm her; it's why Mary made a point to run every day, rain or shine. Certainly for her fitness and health, yes, but even more so for the numbness it afforded her.
When she heard her phone ringing in her headphones —interrupting the thumping baseline of her jogging playlist— she snapped out of a pleasant runner's high and was immediately, insufferably, annoyed.
"What?" she snarled, bringing her headphone microphone close to her mouth as her steps slowed.
"Mary?"
"Tony?" she said, catching her breath, "Sorry — I'm out for my run —"
"Sorry to interrupt," Tony said, "But there's been . . .Mary, Alex has done something. I need to talk to you."
"Well, go ahead," Mary said, "What's happened?"
"No," he said firmly, "I need to talk to you privately. Somewhere the press won't overhear. You should get home as soon as you can — if anyone sees you—"
"Tony, wait—"
"Don't go straight to the hospital — come to my apartment first. We'll talk."
"Not unless you tell me what this is about," Mary said, kicking the dirt up around her impatiently.
"Your father. . .the hospital. . .well, Alex has come forward as a whistleblower — not just on Downton but our company. Although, I think the ramifications will be far worse for your family than for me. . .but I need you to know —"
"Stop prevaricating," Mary snapped, "Is this about Anna—?"
"It's beyond that now," Tony said unsteadily, "No one is going to get out of this unharmed."
Even though Robert would chide her if he knew, Cora poured herself a second cup of coffee and padded into the den to watch the morning news. He always insisted she stop consuming any caffeine at all during her pregnancies, but she'd not been the best patient. Nine months without wine was bad enough; but coffee too?
She blew gently across the surface of the mug, lowering herself onto the couch and tucking her feet up under her; which was getting more and more difficult with each week that went by.
Reaching for the remote, she unmuted the telly and sipped her coffee.
" . . .Gillingham and Green Pharmaceuticals released reports today implicating the hospital administration in a series of back-door deals involving the off-label use of prescriptions that Gillingham and Green say had not been approved. Whistleblower Alexander Green claims that several of Downton's staff have retaliated, escalating with a physical attack at the hospital's annual gala several weeks ago. The hospital's administration has yet to make an official comment, and requests for comment were declined."
"Mum?"
Cora turned quickly, her coffee sloshing onto her lap, scalding her hand as it dribbled down.
She didn't flinch.
"Mum, it's all over the internet," Sybil said, her voice shaking, "Is it true? Did Daddy really do those things?"
"Oh, Sybbie," Cora said, "I don't know. . ."
They stared wordlessly at the television for a moment, the air in the room gone thick, suffocating. Sybil lowered herself down on the couch next to Cora and numbly reached for her hand, which had gone ice cold.
They both jumped when the phone rang. Cora blinked, looking around slowly for it. Sybil hushed her and leaned over the end of the couch, picking it up from the cradle.
"Hello?"
"Sybil, darling, put your mother on."
Inhaling sharply, she turned to Cora, covering the receiver with one hand, "It's grandma."
Cora furrowed her brow, reaching for the phone, "Violet?"
"Robert needs you here," she said — her voice oddly quiet, as though she were speaking somewhere she was afraid of being overheard, "How quickly can you be here? You need to try to beat the press —"
"Can you at least tell me what's going on? We're sitting here watching the news and — none of it makes any sense."
"It's the fault of all that damnable social media," Violet spat, "The rumor mill has never churned quite so quickly as it does these days — people can ruin another's life with the touch of a button. On their phones, for chrissake! On line at the grocery —"
"Violet, I still don't understand what's being said — has Robert done something — illegal?"
She listened to the faint static at the end of the line, heard Violet take a shuddering breath before responding, "Cora, you need to hear his side — you mustn't think less of him —"
"Has he done something—" Cora squeaked, her throat tightening, Violet cut her off.
"You should be here, by his side, when he speaks to the press —"
"About what?"
"He'll give a press conference this afternoon — make a statement–"
"For fuck's sake!" Cora cried, her voice breaking, "Tell me what's happening!"
"Cora," Violet said quietly, "Robert made a series of bad judgments many years ago, skeletons long buried that are now being dug up in order to throw us off the scent of the man that attacked that nurse—"
"Anna," Cora said, "Her name is Anna,"
"I think it would be better for Downton if you were here — Mary and Edith will be. Sybil should be too, really, the entire family behind him—"
"I won't!" Sybil snapped, having heard the majority of the conversation through the phone.
Cora looked up at her, mouth agape, "Sybil, darling—"
"I won't support him if — if he's done all they've said he's done. I can't be part of that. It's not fair. It's not fair to Anna and —" she stopped short, her face crumpling, "Mum, I'm scared."
"Please, Cora," Violet implored, "Just come to the hospital -"
Feeling her hand begin to shake, Cora licked her lips and let her eyes flutter closed, fighting back a swell of nausea, "Violet. . .I am going to go lie down. I do not feel well at all, and Sybil is very upset. If Robert needs me," she exhaled slowly, "— he knows where to find me."
Clicking the phone off and letting the receiver drop from her hand, Cora kept her eyes closed a moment, then bolted from the couch and into the hallway. A few moments later, Sybil heard her retch.
"Mum?" she called out — then felt her cellphone buzzing in her pocket. Taking it out, she glanced at it,
TOM (9:33 am)
Are you okay?
SYBIL (9:34 am)
I don't even fucking know what's happening! But I think my Dad might be guilty of something bad. Poor mum's a wreck. I've got to check on her, I think she just got sick in the hall.
TOM (9:35 am)
Do you need me to come over? Sybil, I'm so sorry about all of this. I wish there was something I could do. . .
SYBIL (9:40 am)
It's like, even heroes fall I guess. . . but none of it makes any sense. Can you report back to me about what everyone at the hospital is saying? I think I've got to stay here with mum. She's in rough shape.
TOM (9:42 am)
Of course. Let me know if you need anything.
SYBIL (9:45 am)
We will. Thank you for being there for us.
TOM (9: 50 am)
I always will be, Syb. No matter what happens.
". . .The hospital's administration has yet to make an official comment, and requests for comment were declined."
"What the bloody fuck," Beryl breathed, looking up at the telly in the nurses' break room. She'd come in for a sugar for her coffee and stumbled into a heap of tittering nurses, staring up at the television, their eyes wide. Her heart sunk; a tragedy, must have been. Some accident. A terrorist attack. Maybe the Queen was dead.
"Oi! Baxter!" she said, pushing her way through the hive of nurses, "What the hell—"
Phyllis hushed her, staring, mouth agape, at the television. Beryl listened a moment, unable to believe what she was hearing.
" . . .Whistleblower, Alexander Green, has implicated Dean of Medicine Robert Crawley in over a decades worth of deals with Gillingham and Green Pharmaceuticals regarding the off-label use of prescriptions that had not yet received approval. Green claims that Downton Hospital accepted financial incentives, including a multi-million dollar bail-out in 1995 . ."
"Is it true?" Daisy said, appearing at her side. Beryl turned, her gaze vacant, and put a hand on the girl's shoulder. She wanted to say no, of course not, but she hesitated.
"I don't know, love," she said, shaking her head, "I honestly don't fucking know."
"Dr. Clarkson?" Isobel said, bursting into the exam room. Richard turned from the patient he was seeing, a bit irritated.
"I'm with a patient, Isobel—" but when he saw her face, the way she was white-knuckling the door handle, how her knees seemed to buckle under the weight of whatever it was that was next to come from her mouth, he stood slowly, "What's happened?"
"You'd best step out for a moment," she said quietly.
Excusing himself and following her out into the hall, he reached out and tentatively laid a hand over hers, which were clasped in front of her to keep from shaking.
"I take it you've not read the headlines?"
"No," he said, "I haven't had the time to even check my email let alone —"
"Downton is in terrible, terrible trouble Richard," she said.
He blinked, his pulse quickening at the sound of his name on her breath, "Good God, what's happened?"
"Do you remember a few years ago, the GlaxoSmithKline* scandal?"
He nodded, "How could I not?"
"Well, Gillingham and Green they've — I don't know that it's true, I'm not saying that it is, but the reports are there, and it's traveling fast —"
"Inside deals?"
"I think it's perhaps worse than that," she sighed, "The man who attacked Anna — that Green character — he's come forward as a whistleblower, you see. If — if none of it's true, what he's saying about Downton's involvement, why would he ruin his career in the process? He's outed Mr. Gillingham. He's clearly willing to stop at nothing to take down the hospital. Even if it means sacrificing his own company."
"That's not surprising; those corporations always emerge relatively unharmed. You know that." he sighed, "Is any of it true? Did you ever suspect—"
Isobel started to speak, but thought better of it. Instead she reached up to take off her glasses, rubbing her eyes, "I've got to go see Violet."
"She's already on the war path, I'm sure."
Isobel paused, leaning back against the wall, letting her eyes flutter closed, "That's what I'm afraid of."
The sound of her apartment door closing as John left echoed in her ears until finally, she had to turn the television set up just to hear the news reporter's voice.
He'd told her to shut it off, have a lie down — but she couldn't. How could she? This was all her fault. She should have just kept her mouth shut. Who was she to think that she could stand up to anyone — let alone a man like Green?
You believed you had Downton behind you, that's why, she thought, a bitterness creeping in from some deeply buried, cruel place that she attempted to hide with a sunny disposition.
Why should she reveal how angry she really was? About this — about everything. Anger wasn't productive unless it was directed outward, and the only person she felt comfortable turning it on was herself.
She cranked the volume of the television higher, planting herself down on the carpet right in front of the screen.
Look what you've done, she whispered, hot tears stinging her face.
Wiping her eyes, she tried to focus on the throng of reporters who were positioned outside the hospital. Seemingly out of nowhere, they swarmed a tall woman who was walking toward the front doors — she had on large sunglasses and a long, black coat. Clearly she was someone, otherwise why would the press be shoving their microphones in her face?
"Dr. Painswick! Dr. Painswick, can we get a statement? Did you know about the—"
"Shit" Anna said quietly, "Oh, don't do it —"
Rosamund removed her sunglasses, shaking her hair out impetuously, "The only thing I have to say is this:" she said, staring straight into the camera, "Alexander Green is a liar and a coward —"
"But Dr. Painswick, isn't your niece in a relationship with Tony Gillingham? Does she have ties —"
"I will not comment on the personal lives of any staff member of Downton, family or no," Rosamund snapped, "But mark my words, Green will be held accountable for taking what was a vicious, unprovoked attack on a young, female nurse at our institution and turning it into a circus for the singular purpose of misdirecting your attentions—"
"Isn't it true that Anna Smith is emotionally unstable? Have you given her a psychiatric evaluation?"
Rosamund blanched, "Why would I do that? Of course she's unstable, that man beat her in the walls of this hospital, he attempted to rape her — he'd probably have killed her—"
"So you admit she's unstable?"
"I didn't say that—"
"Dr. Painswick, is it true that before she arrived at Downton Anna Smith spent a month in a psychiatric facility in Northampton?"
"I don't know—"
"Doesn't Downton perform background checks on employees?"
"That would be a question for —"
"Are you saying that you were unaware of Ms Smith's prior psychiatric history?"
"I'm not her superior —"
"Rosamund!"
The cameras turned, and Robert Crawley came barreling out the hospital's front doors. The press picked up their wires and microphones and ran for him, but he beat them back, cutting through the crowd and roughly grabbing Rosamund by the arm. Anna watched in horror as they fought their way toward the hospital, her chest burning — without taking her eyes from the screen, she groped for her cell phone. Looking down only long enough to dial, she held her breath until she heard the familiar voice at the other end of the line.
"Oh God," Elsie breathed, picking up her cell, "It's Anna."
"I think she was set to be discharged today," Charles said, wiping his palms against his trousers, "I hope she's not alone."
"Anna," she paused, listening. After a moment she looked up at Charles, her eyes brimming with tears, "Oh, Anna, I'm so sorry —I'm sorry. I know. I know, dear."
He could hear bits and pieces of Anna's shrill voice on the other end of the line — and just before it went dead, he heard her yell— you promised me!
Elsie paused a moment before lowering the phone, locking the screen and letting it sit dejectedly in her lap. Her eyes drifted back to the television, furtively blinking away tears.
Charles moved slowly, reaching for the remote control so that he could mute the television. The sudden silence of the room was jarring, and she snapped her head toward him, eyes wide.
"Is she safe?" he asked, his eyebrows arching.
"For now," Elsie said, "Obviously quite shaken. Dr. Bates has gone in — and I really think we ought to as well."
"You need to rest," he said, but she sniffed, interrupting him.
"I'll be fine," she said levelly, "If I go. If I'm there, if I can . . .I don't know, I'll sit in my office, even. I'll make you run about and do my bidding," she said, forcing a small smile. He hesitated, sighing heavily, "Please, Dr. Carson."
He met her pleading gaze, then looked back at the television, Downton's Dirty Deal, splayed across the screen in angry red letters.
"Fine," he said, "But we're going to set you up on the couch in your office — no running about and absolutely no talking to the press," he stood up, shaking his head, "I don't like this," he said, "I don't like it at all," he looked down at her, softening a bit, "But I would be a liar if I didn't admit that. . .well, I don't want to walk into a war zone. . . without you at my side."
She gave him another smile, a bit stronger this time, "And I wouldn't want you to."
A quiet moment passed between them, then, he reached down and offered his hand. She took it, pushing herself up off the couch and they stood in her den a moment. She felt something constrict in her chest as she looked at him, his face contorted in deep disappointment and, she thought perhaps, even a little fear.
"Are you okay, Dr. Carson?" she asked, putting a hand on his forearm, he looked down, as if surprised by her touch, and then covered it with his.
"I've just. . .I've had some shocks lately when it comes to thinking you know people. . ." he sighed, letting his hand drop from hers, "I've given my life to Downton,"
"I know," she said solemnly, "Do you think it's true? How could this have been going on — all the years and we didn't know. . ."
He huffed, "And if we had known? Could we have stopped it?" he ran his hands over his face, speaking from behind them, his voice muffled, "Have we unwittingly been a part of it?"
Elsie sighed, "I don't know," she whispered, "I suppose we can only hope not."
Peeking out from behind his hands, he gave her an exasperated look, "If I'd known, I'd've put a stop to it," he said, "And if I couldn't stop it, I would have left. I know that's probably hard to believe. That I'd put anything ahead of it, of my work but —" he sighed, letting his gaze fall from hers, "It doesn't matter to say it now. It doesn't change anything."
He looked up when he felt her hand on his arm and realized she'd not lifted it since she placed it there.
As she spoke, she gave it a light, reassuring squeeze, "Well," she said softly, "It changes you from where I'm looking."
* So, this whole suit between Downton and G&G might be vaguely familiar to the GlaxoSmithKline scandal: that suit ended with the largest settlement ever of a pharmaceutical company — $3 bil. They had, rather systematically over the course of like a decade, peddled their antidepressant PAXIL for off-label use, and, for use in teens and children — which they were not approved for. In fact, they had research that proved the use of the antidepressant in young adults was linked to an increase in suicides — but they essentially hid / suppressed that research and continued to market the drug anyway, even though they knew that it wasn't safe. GSK is still one of the major pharmaceutical companies in the UK and is, in fact, one of the largest and most prominent in the world, despite being implicated in this suit — which kind of goes to show that pharmaceutical companies can get away with a lot and emerge unscathed, but the hospitals are typically not so lucky.