Author's Note:Okay... first of all huge apologies for not updating sooner but you see - well - the thing is, I started writing this chapter literally the day after watching 3x05 (I'm not giving anything away) and I had to channel all my bundle of feels so it ended up really, really depressing. But I have since pulled myself together and basically deleted everything I wrote and started this one from scratch. And I figured you wouldn't mind seeing as I'd rather take the time and get it right as supposed to rush it. (Also, Uni is still on my case.)
Anwaaay - this chapter deals with the aftermath of the explosion. Also, there's some introduction to the Polish Air Force joining the RAF (as they did) and the next chapter will be the climax of the Battle of Britain which will not be a disappointment.
So read it and tell me what you think x
Chapter 36 – Snow White
Tiny sprinkles of dust drizzled onto Mary's face. She groaned softly, jerking her head in recognition as the consciousness dripped back into her. She tried to move her legs but she couldn't, it felt trapped under something… Mary blinked herself awake, the stench of damp, stale wood struck her instantly. It was dark, so very dark. Mary tried to turn but she couldn't, bits of debris were holding her in place. She tried to turn the other way but found herself being stifled by a cushion which was strapped to her abdomen. For a fleeting second she wondered why on Earth she had a pillow up there… and then she started to remember, Rebecca's face wavered into her mind as it reeled in confusion.
Was Rebecca here?
What had even happened?
Where was she?
Images of crumbling walls and tumbling bricks came screaming into her memory, with a jolt of horror Mary remembered pushing her children out of the way, Georgina's scream echoing in her ears before everything went black. The house had collapsed on them! Her children! Oh God where were her children?
"Benjamin! Georgina!" She choked in panic, her throat clotted with dust, "Benjamin! Georgina can you hear me? Say something please!" Fat tears leaked from Mary's eyes, her head felt so very heavy yet she forced it a few inches off the ground, allowing the dizziness to swim. She needed to know that her children were alive. "Oh God, help! Please help!"
"Mary!"
Mary released a gasp of shock, her eyes flicked towards the source of the voice she knew so well.
"Matth - Matthew!" She coughed, a morsel of relief flooding through her.
"Oh Mary thank God!" He breathed. She heard him shouting to someone, "She's alive! She's down there!" There was a fumble of movement and a small crack of light as people started to clear away the debris. "Mary, I'm here. Can you hear me? Are you hurt? Can you move?"
"Yes - a little - and no. But Matthew - listen- where are the - children?" Mary wheezed, the dust becoming firmly lodged in her throat making in even harder for her to talk. "Are - they with – you?"
Matthew's gravid silence forced her panic to accelerate.
"Matthew?" She prompted, terror seeping into her voice.
"I – I thought they would be with you?" The horror embedded in her husband's voice drove all thoughts of her own survival clean out of Mary's mind. All thoughts were focused directly on her babies.
"No, no, no." The whimper broke free from her lips, she tried to move her legs but she was obviously trapped.
"Mary, where were -"
"Matthew just find them get them out!" She ordered through gritted teeth, her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides. She didn't care how concussed she might be, she'd fight to the death if it meant getting her children out alive. "Forget me and find them! You know how scared Benji will be, he hates the dark!" The tears started to burn her eyes once more.
"I know, I know." Matthew replied, his voice trembling. Mary knew he was trying to keep it together for her sake but she could tell that he was inches away from falling apart, just like she was.
"What about Rosamund where is she?" Matthew asked.
"I don't know." Mary muttered, "We've all - fallen through the floor."
"All right." Matthew said quickly, "Just keep holding on darling. I'll find the children I promise."
Whether it had been an hour or two, Lady Mary Crawley lay buried under a mound of rubble with her children and her aunt and who knows how many servants. The flicker of hope she held in finding her children were dying with each passing second. She could do nothing except stare helplessly into the sliver of light, listening in sheer agony to the sound of her husband screaming for their children, his voice accelerating into hysteria when no one replied.
Then she heard it. The shuffling sound near the corner of her head. Immediately, her first thought was rats, but then she heard the soft moans of a frightened little boy. Her frightened little boy.
"Benjamin?" She rasped, hardly daring to hope, "Benji is that you?"
"Mama?" Benjamin cheeped.
Relief like no other, flooded every inch of her body, she closed her eyes in thanks before turning her attention back to her son. "Oh darling are you all right? Are you hurt?"
"Mama, my leg is stuck and I can't move." Benjamin whispered hoarsely. "I heard Papa calling us but I couldn't call back. My voice feels funny. I'm scared -"
"I know darling, just hold on." Mary soothed, wishing she could just break free and save him. "Darling, is Georgina with you?"
"Yes."
Mary's head twitched at the trepidation behind Benjamin's voice. "Benji?"
"Georgina's lying in front of me Mama." He replied quietly, "She isn't moving and she has blood all over her face."
September 8th 1940
1:10am
Joseph couldn't move. He was stuck in his Spitfire trying to break through the canopy, flames creeping up the side while he watched in horror as the Nazi flag tumbled down the front of Big Ben, marking their territory over the whole country…
"Joe? Joe?"
Hands grasped his arm, shaking him roughly. Joseph batted the hand away, "Let go of me you damn Nazi!" He yelled.
"Joe it's Frederick!"
Joseph's eyes flew open. Where was he? Oh, he wasn't in his Spit. He was in his bunk, safe and sound. He rolled his head to the side, Frederick and Dominic were both staring at him with looks of complete apprehension and fear glistening in their eyes. Joseph clapped a trembling hand over his eyes in humiliation and murmured, "How long was I asleep for?"
"Not that long. About twenty minutes give or take." Dominic answered softly. "Are you all right?"
"It's strange." Joseph said quietly, "During all these battles, all this waiting and fighting, all I want to do is sleep. But when I do, all I keep thinking, all I keep dreaming about is – what's going to happen if we lose this fight?"
"You mustn't think like that." Frederick said firmly, he pushed a cup of tea into his hands, "Now get some of that down you. I know you're worried about your family but the only thing we can do right now is our jobs."
Joseph took a deep breath, clutching the warm cup in his hands. He had been frantically trying to call home since the second he arrived back at Biggin Hill but no one answered the phone, not even Cutler. He only wanted to know if their friends and family up in London were all right, yet the ominous response he received sent a sharp chill down his neck and he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
"Drink up Downton." Dominic urged, "You need all the caffeine you can get. I have a horrid feeling that we're going to get called back tonight."
Joseph shook his head in response and brought the cup of tea to his lips, savouring the warm liquid. "Night flights are the worst. I've already been shot down once today and ran out of fuel! I don't fancy trying to land a plane in the middle of the night!"
"Yes." Frederick said with a shudder, "That was awful."
"I kept an eye out for you though." Dominic said with a small smile, "Just to make sure your parachute worked – and you made the jump safely."
Joseph returned the smile gratefully. "Well, I'd do the same for either of you, for anyone in our Squadron. Speaking of which, how are the Polish chaps getting along?"
"Very well actually." Frederick answered with a raised brow, as if he were surprised by the admission, "I mean, they do have a little difficulty taking orders from our men, seeing as they can't speak much English so the communication is a little strained."
"That's understandable." Joseph said simply. "I'm sure they'll adjust in time."
"Well I don't care if they're Polish, Russian or Czech, so long as they can fly properly and give us a little break." Dominic said in a clipped voice. He drained his teacup and left it at that.
Joseph shifted back onto his bunk, lying on his back and just staring at the ceiling. His eyelids grew heavier and his tense muscles were finally starting to relax a little, his eyes gradually started to close…
A sharp knock at the door jolted him out of his sleepy stupor. Joseph bolted upright in alarm. "What's going on? Do we have to go?"
Wing Commander Bradley Shields swiftly entered the room, staring at Joseph with a hard gaze mixed with sympathy. "Flight Lieutenant Crawley. Air Marshal King wants to see you in his office forthwith."
Joseph exchanged a brief glance with the others before sighing, "He's probably just going to scold me about damaging the Spitfire." He traipsed out of his bunk and headed towards the familiar office. Taking a collected breath, Joseph knocked twice on the door.
"Enter."
Joseph adjusted his cap, straightened up and pushed the door open, wondering with some trepidation if he really was in for a reprimand about the Spitfire.
"Ah Flight Lieutenant Crawley." Air Marshal King greeted with a tight and very forced smile. "Do – do come in."
Joseph saluted in respect and strode into the office, his intimidation accelerating from the look on King's face.
"I am sorry to have to drag you out in the middle of the night but I'm afraid this really can't wait." He said with hesitancy.
"Oh?" Joseph swallowed over the lump of panic rising in his throat, "Nothing too serious I hope?"
"Well - I'll cut straight to the point – Flight Lieutenant Crawley." King said quietly, now avoiding all eye contact with the young Pilot. "Now, I'm sure you're aware of the bombing up in London earlier this evening." Joseph nodded stiffly. "And I'm told that you were trying to get in touch with your family."
Joseph shifted on the spot, his mind racing with the direction of this conversation but he willed himself not to panic. "Yes sir it's true. I was trying to contact them at Croydon Airport and then again when I arrived back here, but there seemed to be no reply."
Air Marshal King shuffled uncomfortably, "Yes well, Flight Lieutenant Crawley there's something you should know. About your sister."
Joseph stayed rooted to the spot. His sister… Oh God, something had happened to Rebecca or the baby? Or both! That was why no one was answering….
"My sister?" He choked, "Has – has something happened to Rebecca, is she all right?"
Air Marshal King frowned, his lips parting in confusion and sorrow. "No Flight Lieutenant Crawley – it's not Lady Rebecca it's your other sister Lady Georgina. I'm afraid to relay that something terrible has occurred."
February 24th 1922
Mary saw Matthew from the corner of her eye as he gently nudged the door of their bedroom open with his elbow, all the while trying to support his new-born daughter who was sleeping peacefully in his arms, the daughter he had quickly fallen in love with. Mary couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He had already spent more time with their daughter than she had. She had been the first one to hold Joseph yet the last one to hold her daughter.
"Mary are you ready to see our daughter?" Matthew asked tenderly, perching at the end of the bed.
Mary shifted herself up onto the pillows, wincing in mild pain. She held out her arms, "Yes I'm ready. Let me see her."
Matthew carefully passed their baby girl into Mary's ready arms. She drew a sharp breath as she stared at her daughter – she was the most beautiful little creature she had ever seen!
"Oh she's perfect!" Mary breathed with a teary smile, stroking her petal-soft cheek with her thumb. "She's absolutely adorable!"
"I think she looks just like you." Matthew said softly, watching his wife with their daughter through loving eyes.
Mary swallowed, her eyes glancing from her baby to her husband and back again. "Well – let's hope that's all."
Matthew noted the apprehension laced in her voice and furrowed his brow a little but did not press the matter. He supposed she was just tired. "I thought you weren't going to make it." He said hoarsely, biting hard on his lip to stop it from trembling.
Mary pretended to scoff, "And leave our children without a mother? No, I don't think so." She shot him a thin smile, "You're stuck with me for the long-haul!"
Matthew laughed, "Good!"
"But - in all honesty. Thank you Matthew." Mary sniffed, clutching her baby closer and nuzzling her soft, dark brown hair.
"For what my darling?"
"For keeping her safe." She replied with a sad smile. "When I couldn't."
Lady Mary Crawley sat alone amongst the bustling hospital, her hands clasped tightly together as if she were uttering a desperate prayer. She had grown so used to hiding her true emotions from the world it was always a puzzle for anyone to try and discover what it was she was really thinking. For years into their marriage, even Matthew had found it a difficulty, but as the years drifted on and their children grew up, he became the thaw to her ice.
But now as Mary gazed upon her eldest daughter, her beautiful darling Georgina who was lying rigidly atop the narrow bed with her ebony hair fanned out upon the pillow, her face drained of all colour and her eyes fixed shut, Mary finally felt that her stoic demeanour would snap. She slid her hand across the starchy sheets so she could clasp her daughter's hand, running her thumb along her dainty fingertips.
"Oh my darling." She whispered through quivering lips, "I am so, so very sorry." A lone teardrop meandered down her cheek but she didn't even realize. The pain was too numbing.
She felt him long before she saw him. He scooted his chair towards Georgina's bed and caressed her cheek with tenderness.
"How's Benjamin?" Mary asked blandly.
Matthew flicked his head towards her in recognition, "Mother's watching over him, he's – fast asleep." He swallowed hard. "His ankle wasn't broken, just a sprain thank God."
Mary nodded mechanically. "Thank God."
They lapsed into silence, whether it be for ten minutes or fifty all they could do was just stare at their beautiful, beautiful daughter, who now resembled the epitome of Snow White. Finally, Mary shattered the fragile silence with her tearful voice of blame. "I should've stayed with them."
Matthew allowed his eyes to flutter shut in weariness or pain, whichever it was he couldn't tell. Nevertheless, he shook his head and said with as much sincerity as he could muster, "No, it wasn't your fault. You weren't the one who…" His voice cracked, his throat completely blocked with the overriding emotion of pure guilt. It was his entire fault.
Flashes of the past twenty-four hours streaked through his mind. Finding the deteriorated house his family were buried under, scrambling through the wreckage to get to them only to be forced back and ordered to wait, hearing Mary – his darling wife's voice begging him to keep their children safe, Benjamin being fished out from the smoking rubble, his leg twisted in an L-shaped angle and his little face contorted with agony. Then they lifted Georgina out, her body already limp and lifeless like a ragdoll while blood trickled from her head –
Matthew scrunched his hands into tight fists, longing to pound at the wall until his knuckles bled. Oh if he had only gone with them or had forbidden them from going at all! Then his beloved daughter wouldn't be lying completely motionless in front of his eyes right now!
"Mama? Papa?"
Mary's head snapped towards the sound of her darling son. Two navy blue figures marched down the slim corridor, Joseph in the lead with Dominic trailing close behind him. Mary held out her hand to her son which he grasped affectionately. He clapped his father on the shoulder and then halted beside Georgina's bed, his blue eyes growing wide with trepidation. "Oh God," He rasped, "Is she…?"
"No." Matthew answered swiftly, "She's not dead." His eyes drifted towards her peaceful face, "She's just fast asleep. The doctors say it's likely that she'll pull through soon. Just until the swelling in her brain heals."
Joseph breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank God for that." He whipped off his cap and dropped into the seat next to his father.
Dominic stared down at the girl he was falling in love with, his green eyes clouding in shock.
"Dominic would you like to sit down?" Mary asked the young man politely.
He shook his head slowly, "I'd prefer to stand, thank you Lady Grantham."
Matthew's eyes softened in compassion at the tortured look gleaming in Dominic's eyes. In order to distract himself, he turned to his son. "So, how did you know we were here?"
"The Air Marshal called me into his office and told me that you were in London today and that Georgina had taken a bad blow to the head because the house had collapsed in the bomb, which you and Benji were also in." Joseph replied in a hush, "I can't believe you all went up there! Have you not learned anything?"
Matthew pursed his lips so tightly they turned white. Mary straightened up sharply, "It wasn't your father's fault. It was entirely mine. I was the one who brought Georgina and Benji to London."
"You didn't know there was going to be a bomb." Dominic said thinly, "We didn't ourselves until it had actually happened. As you can imagine, the RAF Squadrons near the city are in chaos."
"Well I was in Warlingham Village." Joseph said without thinking, "I heard the church bells go off and that was when I knew what had happened."
"Why were you in Warlingham Village?" Matthew asked with a frown. Joseph just gave him a pointed look. Matthew sucked in a sharp breath and turned away, knowing full well why his son had been tottering around a village near his Squadron. But he was far too exhausted to go into all that now.
Joseph examined his hands for a while before asking tentatively, "What happened to Aunt Rosamund?"
Matthew exchanged a haunted glance with Mary. He turned to his son and said in a tight whisper, "She didn't make it son. Neither did Mr Fulton."
Joseph's face morphed into sorrow, he dropped his head in his hands. "Oh God." He might not have had the greatest opinion of his great-aunt but he certainly didn't wish that on her. On anyone.
The minutes ticked on in occupied silence, the only noise was that of the heels of the nurses clicking on the floor or the occasional cough of a patient. The steady rise and fall of Georgina's chest was the only indication that she was still clinging onto life. Otherwise she could have easily been mistaken for a corpse. Easily. Dominic's lips parted and he voiced the one haunted thought which invaded everyone's mind, whenever they set eyes upon Georgina's slumbering form.
"She looks just like Snow White." He whispered, "If only a kiss would wake her up." As if realising the true intent behind his words, Dominic Hamilton straightened up in a nervous fluster, muttering his sincere apologies and bolting out of the Wing, leaving the rest of the family to stare after him.
September 10th 1940
Matthew hadn't left his daughter's side. He couldn't. Mary and his mother had taken Benjamin back to the Savoy so he could rest, Isobel had offered to stay with him but he waved her away. He wanted to be alone with his daughter.
Ever since this damn war started it rained nothing but hell on his family. What was he supposed to do? Joseph had been right. This war was much, much more destructive than the first one. He felt the chair scrape back next to him. His head twitched in response, he knew who it was and he was grateful that he was here.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Matthew asked wryly, still keeping his eyes on his daughter, "I should think you'd want to spend your leave catching up on some sleep."
Joseph released a tired chuckle, "I just wanted to make sure my sister's all right, and bring you a clean shirt. Then I think I'll head back home, see Grandmama and Rebecca of course."
Matthew nodded automatically, "Of course. Just make sure you're not seen."
"Papa does she even know?" Joseph asked in a hush, scooting his chair closer.
Matthew rubbed his unshaven face, "Your grandmother said that worrying her would only bring stress to the baby -"
Joseph's mouth fell open, "So she doesn't even know!"
"Keep your voice down!" Matthew snapped, glancing around the ward to check no one was earwigging. "I don't like it any more than you – but – right now…I'm actually quite glad that Rebecca wasn't with them." He felt his eyes burn with unshed tears, "Otherwise who knows what else would've -"
"I know Papa!" Joseph said swiftly, clapping his father on the back, "I know."
"Does that sound selfish of me?"
"No it doesn't." Joseph answered with firmness. "If you've been through what I've been through during the past month, nothing sounds selfish!"
Matthew pursed his lips and nodded. He shot his son a furtive glance before asking in what he hoped was a casual manner, "So, I assume you were shot down yesterday."
Joseph closed his eyes in brief exasperation before replying calmly, "Yes Papa I was - well actually I had run out of fuel and then I was shot down. But it's all right!" He added quickly, "I made the escape."
Matthew nodded swiftly. "By escape you mean jumping out of the plane before it crashed?" His voice was growing tighter and tighter with every word. Joseph noticed this. He didn't know how to answer truthfully without causing more worry.
"I had a parachute." He said quietly.
"And what if it doesn't work? Or it's broken?" Matthew shot back, striking at a fear Joseph harboured in his own heart. "What then Joe hmm?" He turned his tortured gaze back to his daughter and gently ran his thumb over her hand, "Maybe you should think about that before you make your next suicide leap."
Joseph's eyes turned cold, "If it wasn't for that suicide leap I would probably have burnt to death!" He hissed.
Matthew flinched. Joseph instantly regretted the harsh retort and heaved a heavy sigh, "Look Papa, I don't want to fight about it. Especially not here. We'll never see eye to eye on this so it's really no point talking about it."
"It's not about - I just don't like the idea of you up there - it's vulnerable." Matthew said through clenched teeth.
"Well, it's all part of the job isn't it?" Joseph said cautiously, "I'm sure you remember what it was like."
"I was never jumping out of planes." Matthew replied curtly.
"No, but you were still a Captain in the British Army," Joseph said steadily, carefully watching his father, "Just like I was. And now I'm a Flight Lieutenant in the RAF and I'm needed. I really am, Papa, God if only you knew..."
Matthew flicked his eyes towards his son, saying in a voice laced with compassion, "I'm glad that you're embracing the modern approach to this war Joe. I don't know what I would've done if we had the kind of technology you have. This war is much, much different than the first. I never thought that the country would be shaken up as much as it was after the first war but, clearly I was wrong."
Joseph gave him a crooked smile. "Papa, you never really talk about the first war."
Matthew suddenly stiffened. "It's never really something I want to talk about. It took away four years of my life - and much more." He cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably, praying that Joe would just leave it at that. He didn't of course.
"But you were still there. You were still a part of it." Joseph said softly. "When we were children, Edward, Tommy and I always used to play soldiers, pretending we were off to war."
"And I always told you not to." Matthew added in a wary tone.
"We just did it anyway," Joseph responded dismissively, "But the point is - it's all real now and... I still don't know how I feel about it."
Matthew opened his mouth to answer -
"Joe? Papa?"
Both father and son snapped their heads toward the sound of the tiny croak from the bed beside them. Matthew's hand shot out immediately, grabbing his daughter's limp hand. "Oh Georgina darling thank God you're awake!" He beamed at her, "You had us all so worried princesss!"
Joseph smiled in relief, "So, Snow White has finally awoken! How are you feeling Georgie?"
Georgina didn't return the smile. Her cerulean eyes clouded in terror as she squirmed uncomfortably under the sheets. "Papa," She choked, her voice wavering on a petrified whisper, "Papa – I can't… I can't…"
The smile slipped off Matthew's face, "What is it?" He asked soberly, "Darling what's wrong?"
Georgina turned towards him with quivering lips, her eyes glistening with tears. "Papa, I can't feel my legs."
to be continued...