Author's Note: Hey, firstly I am sooo sorry for the delay but basically my computer crashed so while I wait to get it fixed, I had to type this chapter all out on my ipad, which meant a lot of irritating predictive texts! But I did get it finished so yay!

Anyway, this chapter is about Joe ( and a bit of georgina) who is slowly being driven mad with guilt. Let's hope Matthew comes to the rescue soon... Oh and there's a return of a familiar face. ;)

So enjoy and tell me what you think! x

Chapter 38 - So Much Owed To So Few

July 23rd 1927

"Joseph Matthew Crawley!" Mary strode into the nursery with her husband in tow. Mary placed her hands on her hips and glimmered at her six year old son who was seated at the small table, arms crossed, just glaring at the thin orange sticks on his plate.

Matthew had to suppress a chuckle at the expression on his son's face, especially as his wife was mirroring the exact look.

"Nanny said that you're refusing to eat your carrots again?" Mary raised her brow, "I thought we talked about this. You can't have any cake unless you eat your vegetables first!"

"I did!" Joseph whined, "I ate all my cucumber! Why do I have to eat these horrible carrots as well?"

"Because they're good for you Joe." Mary replied with forced patience. "We've let you off before but really, enough is enough!" He stared up at her with such a miserable expression she softened. "Well, just eat at least four."

Joseph pulled a face, "Four!" He squirmed in his seat, eager to run away but knew he wouldn't make it past the rocking horse let alone out the door. "They're disgusting!"

"Darling how would you even know?" Mary asked wearily, "You can't keep putting it off forever."

Joseph twisted his hands anxiously, glimmering at the carrots on his plate, "But they're orange!"

"I ate all my carrots Mama!" Georgina chirped from behind the dolls house.

Joseph scowled at her.

"Good girl Georgie!" Mary praised, with a proud smile. She crouched down next to Edward who was stuffing cake in his mouth, smearing cream and jam all over his face. "Did you eat all your carrots as well my darling?" she crooned.

The little boy gave her a smug nod and pointed a sticky finger at his brother, "Naughty Joey!"

"Be quiet!" Joseph snapped, his little brow furrowed in irritation, "You ate five biscuits!"

Edward tried to hit him but he ducked out the way.

"Now come on boys, there's no need to be unpleasant to each other! Matthew chided, scraping back the small seat next to him and trying to settle into it much to Mary's amusement. He gently pulled on his son's ear, "Joey listen, did you know that carrots are magical vegetables?"

Joseph tried to glare at his father with scepticism yet there was a burning look of curiousity flickering in his cerulean eyes. "How?" he asked sulkily.

"Well, they're very good for your eyes." Matthew said in an excited hush.

"My eyes!" Joseph echoed in disbelief, glancing the carrots in confusion.

Matthew nodded, "That's right Joey. If you eat carrots, you will be able to see very well."

"But I already can see very well Papa!" Joseph responded smartly. Mary bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"Ah, that's now, but when you grow older, your eyes might not be as strong as they are now - unless you eat your carrots."

Joseph continued to frown, "But they look funny!"

Mary opened her mouth to argue but Matthew silenced her with his hand, his eyes focused on his son. "Don't you want good eyesight?" He asked steadily.

Joseph pursed his lips and gave his father a half-nod.

"Trust me Joe." Matthew said with tenderness, picking up a carrot of his son's plate, "Someday you will be very grateful that you ate your carrots." He popped it whole into his mouth and widened his eyes, "Mmm! Now you!"

Joseph pouted for a while then released a long huff, "Oh all right!" He picked up a slim stick off his plate and bit into it, chewing slowly. Gradually his eyes brightened and a smile of delight spread across his lips.

September 15th 1940

10:00am

They had been airborne for about five minutes and still there was no sign of the Luftwaffe. Before they had been summoned up into the air, they had been told that a hundred plus Heinkls were on their way towards London. Ready for action, Joseph strapped his oxygen mask on and lifted up his canopy so he could see out more clearly.

"No sign of them yet." Flight Officer Peter Grey's voice crackled through the RT. "Where do you think they're hiding?"

"Not sure." Joseph replied with suspicion. Barely had the words tumbled from his mouth when he saw the tiny black specks wavering in the distance, they were miles away but he could see them clearly and he knew they would be outnumbered. "Squadron Leader Trevelyan this is Flight Lieutenant Crawley do you read me!" He urgently barked into his RT.

"Roger Crawley I read you." Frederick answered after a brief pause.

"Messerschmitts! About twenty-five miles ahead!" Joseph shouted, frantically pulling his canopy down, "They weren't exaggerating Frederick there are literally hundreds of them!" He swallowed, his eyes glued towards the yellow nose aircrafts hurtling towards them at full speed.

"Well spotted Crawley!" Dominic's voice broke through the trajectory, "Even I couldn't see them from here, they look like birds."

"All right chaps here's the plan," Frederick interrupted quickly, "Hamilton, Crawley, Pearce and Stillman you fly up towards the sun, do not let them get behind you! The rest will stick with me, hopefully we can trap some of them before we take them down."

"Roger Trevelyan, flying up now." Joseph muttered, elevating his Spitfire, carefully following the golden trails of sunlight, all the while keeping the enemy within his excellent peripheral vision. He waited, patiently biding his time until the Messerschmitts climbed up to meet him...

Joseph turned his Spitfire around and plunged straight down, pulling off a spectacular dive. He gripped the joystick, looping around the two Messerchmitts which proved to be no match for his Spitfire as they had fallen for the trap. Blinded by the sun, the German fighter pilots could do nothing except attempt an escape while Flight Lieutenant Joseph Crawley pounded at his gun button, sending both planes into an exploding ash of broken debris.

Joseph's plane started to wobble slightly. Releasing a groan of frustration, he found himself being shot at by another Messerscmitt, he swerved to avoid the bullet, almost crashing into Pearce who was swerving to protect him.

The young heir barely had time to utter his thanks. While Pearce had been trying to save him, he hadn't spotted the two Messerschmitts trailing behind his own plane, waiting to attack. But Joseph could see them clearly and they weren't taking any prisoners.

Gripped with a newfound panic, Joseph pressed his RT closer to his lips, all the while trying to shoot down another enemy plane. "Flight Officer Pearce, Messerschmitts! Messerschmitts on your tail!"

Joseph never received a response.

Whilst swooping under a Messerchmitt to avoid being shot at, he just about caught a chilling glimpse of Flight Officer Pearce's Hurricane explode into flames.

Desperately, Joseph tried to peer below, hoping for the sight of a parachute.

No such luck. Which meant Pearce must have been in the plane when it exploded. Oh God. Joseph felt the bile rise in his throat. He wanted to vomit but now was neither the time or the place.

10:30pm

Mary gently placed her hands around her daughter's right foot and pushed it back carefully. "There. Can you feel that darling?"

Georgina leaned up on her elbows, peering at her foot. She smiled in excitement, "You know what Mama? I can! Just a little bit, but I can just about feel your hand!"

"That's wonderful!" Mary breathed in relief; pulling the covers over her daughter's stoic legs and patting it down neatly. "It's definitely an improvement. Dr Green said that if we keep on doing this every day and every night along with your other therapy, then you should be out of that wretched chair soon. Won't that be wonderful?"

"Yes it will." Georgina replied softly. "And then I can do all the things I want to do. I'm going to join the Women's Auxiliary Air Force, so I can work with Joe." She paused, "And Dominic."

Mary sighed into a laugh, "Oh darling! I do love your determined spirit! But don't get too carried away. Can we at least wait until you're on a walker before we start making such extravagant plans? On the other hand, I am pleased to hear that you and Dominic are getting on so well."

Georgina quirked her brow, "Oh Mama, you're so unsubtle! And as to my extravagant plans, why wait? Now I'm not busy at the police station anymore, all I do is keep thinking about how much I want to help in the war." Georgina furrowed her brow in contemplation. "If anything Mama, the bombing, Aunt Rosamund's death, it's only confirmed it. I want to do something really useful. If the men can do their part then why can't we?"

"Well, you won't be doing anything if you don't rest," Mary chided, trying to cover her mounting agitation at her daughter's vast mind's eye.

"It can't be too long now. I can definitely – feel something, your hand, the sheets just rubbing on my foot." Georgina absently moved her hand over her legs. "And I can feel a little bit of pain shooting up my left leg as well. It's like pins and needles really, but I do understand what Dr Valentine meant." She looked up at her mother and smiled, "It's a good kind of pain."

"I am truly thrilled for you my darling and so very, very proud." Mary caressed her child's ebony locks with fondness, tears of joy threatening to spill. In order to distract herself, she pulled the covers up higher, "Are you warm enough?"

Georgina gave her an exasperated chuckle, "Mama really, there's no need to make that much of a fuss. I'm not a baby."

Mary tilted her head to the side with a quirked brow, "You children will always be babies to me." She grinned broadly at Georgina but for some reason she looked troubled. The smile slipped off Mary's face, "Darling? What's the matter?"

"Well, speaking of babies... how is Rebecca?" Mary sucked in a sharp breath, her lips parting to respond but Georgina quickly cut across her, "I know we're not supposed to talk about it but I can't stop thinking about her! And I think it's terribly harsh of Papa to make that rule! Granny wheeled me round to see her today, in the cottage and she said that Papa hasn't even visited once! Now, I love him very much but really, it's so cold, even for him to just cast her out like that!"

"Darling, your father has not cast her out at all! He's just trying to keep the secret safe, doing what he thinks is best and trying to deal with the situation in his own way." Mary said in a hush, her hands lightly rubbing her false bump. "Please try and respect that."

"I do respect that and I have no doubt that Papa loves Rebecca very much, but I still think it's wrong for him not to even pay her a visit. She needs to feel his love Mama." Georgina said in a voice laced with fortitude. "I mean look at me? I've temporarily lost the use of my legs and everyone keeps harping on about how brave I am!"

"Georgie -"

"But that's only because I'm recuperating in my home, surrounded by the people I love. Save her." She sniffed and wiped away a stray tear. "Poor Becky. It wasn't her fault. I feel horrible about her shut up there all alone, especially when she needs us the most. All this strain and constant worry can't be good for her – or the baby."

Mary closed her eyes briefly, determined not to let how guilty she felt as the truth of Georgina's words drove home. She straightened up, clasping her hands together tightly before responding, "We're keeping regular checks on her. She's being well looked after by all of us, including Dr Green. When the time comes for her to – well, she'll be in safe hands."

Georgina shrugged half-heartedly, "That still doesn't make it fair."

"No." Mary cast her eye to the wheelchair that was parked smugly in the corner of her daughter's bedroom. "But then again, when is life ever?" She turned the lamp out and proceeded to leave.

"Mama."

Mary turned back swiftly, bracing herself for something unpleasant. "What is it?"

When her daughter spoke, her voice was drenched with anxiety. "Do you think Joe and Dominic will be all right?"

Mary swallowed over the sickening lump rising in her throat. Naturally her instinct nudged her to tell the truth but how can she when the truth was so confusing? So she altered it instead. "Of course I do. Listen, your brother and Dominic are two of the best fighter pilots in the country. They've made it this far haven't they? I'm sure they know what they're doing."

Georgina stifled a yawn. "I suppose you're right...they are excellent pilots... I'm just very..." She trailed off into a sigh, "Worried." Her eyes fluttered shut.

Mary smiled thinly, shuffling out of the room. "Me too darling." She whispered, shutting the door. "Me too."

11:15pm

Joseph Crawley nibbled on his thumb nail in agitation, staring at the empty seat in front of him, swaying slightly as the train trundled towards Downton under the cloak of darkness. No lights anywhere. Even the train compartments were illuminated with a dim glow, lest they risk the invitation of a bomb. Joseph shuffled in discomfort, completely engulfed with battle fatigue. His parents didn't even know he was coming home today, he hadn't called to tell them. For some reason, after today's events, his mind just couldn't function properly. All he longed for was to tell someone, to talk to someone who had some kind of inkling in what he was going through –

The compartment door slid open abruptly, Joseph's head snapped up. He frowned at the young naval Warrant Officer in weary recognition. "Officer Bryant?"

Officer Bryant nodded, grinning in surprise, "What a surprise it is to see you again Captain Crawley," He pointed at Joseph's uniform, "Or should I say Flight Lieutenant Crawley now."

"Just call me Joe, I am off duty after all." Joseph responded with a tired smile.

Officer Bryant returned the smile with a little more enthusiasm, "Well you can just call me Charlie. I'm off duty too." He indicated the vast amount of space in the empty compartment, "Mind if I join you in here?"

"Absolutely not."

Charlie settled himself on the seat opposite Joe. Once he was able to see him properly, his smile faltered, "Goodness me. You look as if you haven't seen sleep for days!"

Joseph gave him an exhausted chuckle, "That's because I haven't."

Charlie nodded grimly, "I have heard all about it. I mean after Dunkirk it was only a matter of time wasn't it? We don't get much news out at sea but after I returned, it's all they can seem to talk about. London getting hit every night, the whole country erupting into chaos. It's absolute madness. Thank goodness my grandparents don't live near any big cities, I don't think I could bear the worry."

Joseph looked up in interest, "Your grandparents? What about your parents?"

Charlie's eyes clouded with unease, "They're both dead. I was raised by my grandparents since – well as long as I can remember."

"Oh God, I'm sorry!" Joseph said quickly, mentally kicking himself for being so stupid.

"Don't be, how could you have known?" Charlie said with a little sharpness to his tone but waving Joe's apology away. "My father died in the First War you know?"

"Really?"

Charlie nodded then heaved a sigh, "Just days before armistice would you believe? Unfortunately that's all my grandparents want to tell me about how he died. They don't talk much about my mother either; I get the feeling that they didn't like her very much." He chortled bitterly and proceeded to light up a cigarette, "Then again, my grandfather never liked anyone very much, God rest his soul. If it wasn't for my grandmother, I don't know how I would've made it through."

"So you two are close then?"

"Very. She says I'm her rock but in truth she's mine." Charlie said in a voice drenched with pride, "Her – and my grandfather were both very protective of me. And they spoiled me rotten. So I suppose when war broke out, it seemed natural that she'd run riot with worry. Especially after what happened to my father and what with Grandpa gone. I'm all she's got left."

"So are you going home to see her?" Joseph asked softly, making a quick mental note to spend more time with his grandmothers while he still had the chance.

"Yes, I'm getting posted to my new ship, the HMS Hood in a couple of days so I want to see her – and another special girl," His eyes twinkled, "Before then. I'm the next stop after Downton. Is that where you're off at? Downton?"

Joseph frowned in surprise, "How did you know that?"

"Ah, I know all about you Flight Lieutenant – or Lord Downton as you're more formally known." Charlie teased.

"Stop it." Joseph ordered in amusement.

"No I'm being serious." Charlie said with a small smile, "After I met you at Dunkirk I thought I recognized you from somewhere before. Then I found an old photograph of the Oxford versus Cambridge boat race back in thirty-eight and lo and behold your face was there at the front holding the wretched cup! You remember that race? When you thrashed us?"

Joseph's mind fleetingly ran back to those glorious days. He sighed in nostalgia, "Yes I remember. It feels odd talking about us competing against each other, attending rival schools when now we're on the same side, fighting for something much more serious than a silly cup."

"Yes it does." Charlie replied with a small nod. They lapsed into thoughtful silence for a few minutes. Then Charlie leaned forward and asked quietly, "Are you sure you're all right Joe? You look terribly unwell, is it these air battles? Are they doing you in?"

Joseph sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the guilt stirring inside his gut again. This conversation with Charlie had actually proved to be a great distraction but now he'd just brought it all back to the air battle again. He tried to smile but he couldn't quite manage it, "You know what's like Charlie. War drains the life out of you until there's nothing but a shell. And eventually even that would've gone too." He didn't know where those words had come from but somehow they had tumbled from his mouth without volition.

Charlie gaped at him, rendered utterly speechless.

Thankfully, Joseph was spared anymore conversation as the train screeched to a halt at Downton station. "That's me." He swiftly gathered his belongings together and turned to the young naval officer who had helped rescue him. "Charlie, thank you once again for saving me at Dunkirk." Joseph said with a crack in his voice, "I – I cannot tell you how grateful I am."

Charlie smiled warmly, "Don't mention it." He shook his hand with sincerity, a look of sympathy flickering in his eyes. "If I don't see you - very best of luck to you Joe. I mean it."

Joseph stretched his lips into a smile and nodded, "You too Charlie."

Both naval officer and fighter Pilot saluted each other in respect before finally parting ways. Joseph stepped out onto the platform and was just about to head off when he was called back.

"Joe!"

Joseph swiftly turned to see Charlie leaning out of the window with a determined look etched upon his face, "It is I who am grateful to you."

Joseph blanched, "What for?"

"Defending Britain, shooting down the Luftwaffe. You know, Churchill was right." Charlie said firmly, "About you Pilots. So much is owed to the few of you. You cannot know just how much."

Joseph was stunned into silence. All he could do was watch as Charlie shrunk back into the compartment while the train pulled away, feeling more conflicted than ever. So much was owed to the few of them? His head started to spin with fatigue, he stumbled towards the exit, sorely regretting his decision to surprise his parents and inadvertently turning down a lift, which meant he now had to find his own way home. Home. He just needed to get back home and then everything would be all right.

September 16th 1940

12:00am

Matthew reclined in his armchair listening to the midnight news, unable to stem the flow of pride which coursed through his body as the broadcaster mentioned that today was a great day of victory for the fighter pilots. A small creak at the door jolted him out of his reverie; he glanced up abruptly to see his son stumble into the library.

"Joe!" Matthew exclaimed in loving surprise, shooting out of his seat to embrace his eldest son. "What are you doing home? Not that I'm complaining but I thought you'd be out celebrating."

Joseph drew back, surveying his father through bleary eyes, "What on earth for?"

Matthew's lips parted to answer but subsequently it was the broadcaster who caught Joseph's attention.

"A large scale attack on London saw inaccurate bombing due to the determined defence put up by our magnificent RAF fighters – every single aircraft of Group Eleven was used." Matthew beamed at his son but Joseph didn't react, forcing Matthew's smile to waver. "We have it on good authority to report, that the Germans have suffered their highest losses since the eighteenth of August."

"We lost half our squadron too." Joseph murmured, shrugging out of his leather bombers jacket and ripping off his gloves. "Didn't mention that did you?" He flung himself down onto the couch and released a long held sigh.

Matthew turned the wireless down, then turned a careful eye on his son, saying evenly, "Joe, listen, I'm not going to force you to talk about what happened. Believe me, I know what it's like to have people pretending to understand what you're going through when they don't know a damned thing. But I am always here if you want to talk."

Joseph flicked his eyes towards his father, his fingers lacing together in agitation. He squirmed in his seat, unable to sit still while his breathing grew ragged with panic.

"Joe?" Matthew asked sharply, sensing danger, "What's happened?"

"It's Dominic." Joseph whispered, tears threatening to spill, "I – I tried to protect him. I did." He scrambled upright, resting his forehead on his hands which were now curled into fists.

Matthew swallowed, "Right." He choked out in a voice of forced calm, praying Dominic was all right, for Georgina's sake as well as his own. "What about Dominic? Is he all right?"

Joseph opened his mouth to answer his father, his eyes melting into guilt. But it was Churchill's words which fired out of the muffled wireless that sewed Joseph's lips shut.

"The gratitude of every home in our Island, in our Empire, and indeed throughout the world, except in the abodes of the guilty, goes out to the British airmen who, undaunted by odds, unwearied in their constant challenge and mortal danger, are turning the tide of the World War by their prowess and by their devotion."

"I'm sorry, I can't listen to anymore of this!" Joseph leaped out of his seat, bolting for the door.

"Joe!" Matthew called out in confusion and shock.

Joseph almost slipped out, but not before he heard the seventeen small words which pierced the sword of guilt right through his soul.

"Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few."

It was too much. He raced up the stairs to his room, one by one all their faces came screaming into his memory, tortured, yelling for help while they burned alive.

Matthew gaped open mouthed at the door where Joseph had just dashed out, completely ridden with shock. He had watched his son writhe and twist in despair, tortured with guilt or horror and there was nothing he could do about it! He glanced at the wireless, his own heart breaking in anguish.

Matthew sauntered towards the window and peered out into the pitch-black sky. All that was left were the few flickering stars dotting the sky. Matthew released a bitter scoff, at least it wasn't Germans. Joe was among the few, so was Dominic and so many others. They had helped defend Britain against the Nazi's.

But at what cost?

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the shrill whistle blaring in his ears, men screaming, shells exploding -

He snapped his eyes open and rested a cool hand on the glass to steady himself. He just couldn't stop thinking about his son and everything he might've had to face today. Matthew glared at the sky.

What in God's name happened up there?

to be continued...