Author's Note: Okay, words can't describe just how sorry I am for leaving you guys hanging like this. But I've got a new temp job for the Summer and it's really demanding. Any morsel of time I do have left, I'm too tired do even watch TV let alone write properly! And I want it to be properly done too. I also noticed some of you are finding the story a bit confusing. Not to worry, I will from now on, post a quick summary before each chapter so you won't get lost in the dark.

Also, one of you mentioned how it's confusing when I split the chapters up. I'm really sorry about this (and I didn't want to do this) but this chapter has to be split up otherwise you'd have to wait another week for me to finish it! And I figured you'd rather have one now than wait some more right? I'm off next week so chances are, I'm going to regain some of my creative equilibrium and then we can finally get back on track. But this chapter, I hope will explain a lot and answer a lot of questions (as you can probably tell from the title). They also mentioned how they're not connecting with Siobhan and her husband. Well, there's more to come on that so just give it a chance, it's all I ask. I know it's hard to connect with new characters but I also know that they function in the story so trust me.

Again, massive apologies for the delay and the dancing around but I couldn't see any way that I could extend this chapter by the end of this week. I figured you wonderful people have waited long enough and it's bugging me too, when I don't update!

So, enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you think. X


Previously on Fall of the House of Grantham:

Edward causes friction with his father as he continues to hide information regarding the mysterious HMS Worthington. However, it is revealed that Matthew has more of a connection to the ship than he lets on. There is also a group of Nazi supporters nesting in Britain which Tommy, an M15 agent, is working to take down. It is revealed that Edward knew about this from the ship. But how? Matthew deliberately gives Tommy a slip of paper containing information about a 'key.' The paper had the numbers of Matthew's old service number scribbled on, much to Edward's confusion and annoyance. We then find out that the head of this Nazi group is, not as we thought, Jude Fanshawe but Victor Gower, an MP who was in Parliament with Matthew but - his son Ned was best friends with Joseph.

Sybil and Tom's daughter is newly married to a Sean Rioardan who quickly draws Edward's attention to his real agenda as the idea of travelling to England admidst a war is ludicrous! And he questions Sean as to whether or not he really loves his cousin. Despite her own growing anxiety, Mary brushes off Georgina's concerns about Siobhan returning to Downton as the house does not hold pleasant memories for her.

They all know why.

We don't. Not yet.


Chapter 51 – The HMS Worthington

April 4th 1941

Edward Crawley marched straight into the foyer of Downton Abbey without giving so much as a second glance to his cousins who trailed after him. Cutler barrelled out from the drawing room, balancing a tray of glasses and cursing under his breath until he spotted Edward. Immediately his features melted into joy.

"Master Edward you're back!" He cried, hurrying to greet the guests. "How was the journey?"

"Tiresome." Edward answered curtly. "Cutler do you know where my parents are?"

"Lady Grantham is settling Lady Emily and Lord Grantham is in his study sir." Cutler replied, his eyes darting suspiciously towards Sean who was rooted beside Siobhan, utterly struck dumb by the splendour of the house. "Shall I inform his Lordship you're here?"

"No need." Edward said thinly, yanking his coat off. "I can do it myself."

Cutler gave him a swift nod, "Very good sir." He made a motion to leave when a movement at the top of the stairs caught his eye. "Ah here is Lady Grantham now."

Edward turned to see his mother galloping down the winding staircase, stopping short on the bottom step as soon as she laid eyes on Siobhan. Her hand fluttered to her throat, tears springing to her eyes as she glided towards her niece.

"I don't know what to say." Mary whispered, her voice shaking with suppressed emotion as she enveloped Siobhan into a loving hug. She pulled back so she could cup her face, staring into those beautiful blue-green eyes that were so like Sybil's. "Darling how are you?"

"Married." Siobhan answered with a cracked smile. She waved absently to Sean, "Aunt Mary this is my husband Sean Riordan, Sean this is my Aunt Mary, Countess of Grantham."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sean." Mary greeted earnestly as she took the young man's hand.

"Pleasure's all mine Lady Grantham." Sean said with as much sincerity as he could muster. His eyes took one more sweep around the foyer, "You really have a magnificent home Lady Grantham." He finally rested his eyes on his wife, either oblivious to or choosing to ignore Edward's indignant scowl. "Siobhan you were right, it is like a storybook castle. Why didn't you tell me more about it?"

Siobhan shifted her shoulder out from under his arm. Edward's jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. Just continued to casually observe.

"What else is there to tell?" She asked with a nervous titter, her breathing growing heavier with each passing second.

"You used to spend your Summers here." Sean replied pointedly, "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"It's just a house Sean, bricks and mortar." Siobhan muttered politely under breath, yet her manner and piercing glare clearly indicating that he drop the matter at once, or else he'd be spending their wedding night alone.

"But you never mentioned it before until we were on the ferry." Sean pressed, trying and failing to keep the accusatory tone to a minimum. "I didn't even know you were descended from nobility until yesterday."

An uncomfortable silence penetrated the already, fragile atmosphere. Both Edward and Tommy glowered at Sean while Mary's lips twitched into a sad smile.

"I – I didn't really see the point." Siobhan responded, more to Mary than anyone else, her voice ridden with an apologetic undertone. "There was just so much going on it hardly seemed appropriate to..." She averted her gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry." She whispered. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was already entertaining second thoughts about returning to Downton.

Clearly Mary could sense this too for she said quickly, "Well don't worry you're both here now. And your grandmother wanted you to stay with her at the Dower House." Siobhan breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes glimmering with gratitude. Mary gestured around the foyer, "Downton isn't really the place for a pair of newlyweds to start their new life at the moment. This war has thrown all of us into a state of chaos."

Sean gave her a stiff smile, "I bet it has."

"So you mean they won't be staying here?" Edward interjected sharply, his eyes still nailed to Sean.

Mary cast him a curious look, "Yes Edward that's what I just said. Your Grandmama thinks, and I agree, that they'd be more comfortable at the Dower House." She turned back towards the couple and smiled, "There's a car waiting to take you there whenever you're ready."

"That's good." Siobhan said quietly, "I'd prefer to stay there."

Mary tilted her head to the side and gave her a sympathetic nod, "Of course darling. I understand. Both of you can get some well deserved rest and meet the other half of the family at dinner tomorrow."

"That sounds wonderful." Siobhan replied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I look forward to catching up with them."

"Will that be all right with you?" Edward asked Sean, his tone accelerating with disguised patronization, "I mean – staying away from here, it might be for the best after all." He waved his hand around the foyer, "All this grandeur and all these people running around, clamouring into your personal space, it might make you feel uncomfortable."

"Edward!" Mary chided through gritted teeth.

"It's a harmless joke between me and Sean Mama." Edward responded, firing a broad smile towards the man. "He knows that. Don't you?"

A tense sneer leaked across Sean's lips as he said calmly, "Of course. Friendly banter between family. However I must confess I don't own a set of tails." He glanced emphatically at his smart wedding suit, "This is the fanciest jacket I own and it cost me an arm and a leg!"

"Of course it did." Edward muttered sourly.

Mary threw him another sharp look before plastering on a smile, "Don't worry. Since the war broke out we don't dress for dinner as much as we used to."

"Yes we do!" Edward interjected with indignation.

Mary strongly resisted the urge to elbow him. "We do but not as much as we did before." She said through gritted teeth.

"Please don't stop on my account." Sean said quickly.

"Now you're a part of this family you'll have to get used to our ways of living." Edward said haughtily, before his mother could object.

A flash of anger streaked across Sean's face yet he managed to mask it with a swift smile as he pointedly encircled an arm around his wife. "Well in that case Siobhan will have to teach me. Won't she?"

Edward merely released a small scoff before turning back to his mother. "I'm going to see Papa before I go up. There's something I need to discuss with him."

Mary sucked in a sharp breath yet managed to maintain all sense of decorum. She nodded, "Fine, he's expecting you anyway."

"I'm sure he is." Edward said with a small smirk, exchanging a look with Tommy.

"I should probably go and check in with Agent Blackwell." Tommy said evenly, "There are some things I need to- update him on."

Again Mary remained set in her pretence of blissful ignorance. She nodded and said steadily, "All right then. Goodnight Tommy."

Both Tommy and Edward stalked towards their intended rooms. Mary watched them carefully from her position on the staircase, silently praying that their plan had worked.


Edward sidled into his father's study, shutting the door quietly behind him. The fireplace crackled with a freshly lit fire, sending chills of warmth down the young man's spine. Matthew stood near the window, his back facing his son, one hand resting on the ledge while a glass of scotch rested on the other. His head quirked in recognition as Edward entered the room but he didn't say anything, which only irritated the young Crawley further.

Edward impatiently cleared his throat.

"Do you have something you want to tell me?" Matthew asked calmly, piercing through the brittle silence.

"Do I have something I want to tell you?" Edward repeated, disbelief dripping off his tongue.

"Yes. Regarding HMS Worthington. I take it Tommy's shown you the slip of paper." Matthew said casually. He was done tiptoeing around the subject. It was time for the truth to be aired once and for all.

Edward coughed in shock, his eyes narrowing in anger. "You knew? This – all of this was a setup to get me to talk about Worthington?"

Matthew swirled the chunks of ice in his glass, refusing to answer.

"Well in that case don't you have something you want to tell me?" Edward asked hotly, his fingers curling around the slip of paper in his pocket. Matthew glanced at his scotch and took a delicate sip but didn't answer his son.

"Papa?" Edward pressed. When he still garnered silence, he closed his eyes in controlled anger and tried to take a deep breath. "All right, look, I don't know what kind of a game you're playing but let me tell you now, I am not amused!"

At last Matthew spun around. Even through the flickering sheet of amber radiance, Edward could see his father's eyes were swollen and bloodshot, obviously suffering some kind of distress.

"You think I'm the one playing games?" Matthew practically spat, "You're the one who's been dancing around the HMS bloody Worthington for months now!"

Edward's mouth fell open.

"You have no idea how much time you wasted in keeping that a secret!" Matthew railed, downing his glass of scotch in one and immediately pouring himself another one. "Or how much danger you risk bringing to this family!"

"I did what I did because I was trying to protect this family!" Edward said fiercely, "Maybe if you could just listen to me instead of giving me grief all the bloody time, you'd actually realize why!"

"You really expect me to believe that you kept it a secret because of this family?" Matthew asked sceptically.

Edward merely laughed, "Of course you'd think otherwise. You always do. Well, I'm not a child anymore Papa, I'm seventeen years old and I'm capable of making my own decisions."

Matthew resisted the urge to scoff. "Oh Edward. If only I could actually believe that."

"All right so I made a mistake!" Edward confessed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "But instead of poking me with it why can't you just ask me properly and then answer some of my questions!"

Matthew rubbed his hand over his unshaven face. "All right. Eddie I don't want to fight you anymore. Let's just fix this before things spiral out of control." He took a few paces towards his son who remained rooted to the spot.

"Things already are spiralling out of control." Edward mumbled to the floor. He flicked his dark eyes towards his father, "I want to know what's going on with Victor and Ned Gower Papa."

Matthew's head snapped up, his cerulean eyes darkening. "How do you know about them?" He asked suspiciously.

"Papa!"

"All right." Matthew said steadily, "First you tell me everything that happened on HMS Worthington and then I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Edward almost laughed out loud at the repetitiveness of the night. "Fine." He whispered, his voice hoarse ridden with defeat.


October 4th 1940

Edward Crawley frantically pressed his fingers to his friend's neck, trying to stop the steady crimson flow. "His jugular's severed!" He yelled, blood seeping through his fingers and onto the gurney. The young medic cast a desperate look around the medical cabin, "I need some more morphine! Now!"

While the third medic scrambled to fetch him the morphine, Edward turned back to Private Harry Smith and tried to smile in reassurance, despite the fact that his friend was practically drowning in his own blood. "It's all right Harry. I've removed the bullet from your neck. You're going to be fine."

Harry threw him a sceptical look. "I – I can't – breathe..." He choked, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

Edward pressed his fingers more firmly onto the gash, "Pratt where the hell is that morphine?"

"Here sir." Ray Pratt flung the morphine packets at Edward who, with great skill, ripped one open with his teeth.

"Sir, I know this isn't the right time but – Commander Ryder asked to see you." Ray started tentatively, "It sounds urgent -"

"Harry needs me first Pratt." Edward interrupted sharply, supporting his friend's head as he coughed more blood, "Let me take care of him and then I'll see Ryder."

"But sir, it's an order-!"

"I said I'll do it!" Edward barked, his panic accelerating as Harry released a rattling cough, spraying both of them with blood.

"Jesus." Edward murmured in disbelief, unable to do nothing but watch as his friend gasped for breath in sheer agony, before his eyes turned glassy and distant.

"He's gone." Edward stated flatly. He stared at his hands still cradling Harry's neck, still drenched with blood.

"There was nothing you could have done sir." Ray said in a sombre tone, "They severed his jugular artery. It was beyond your control." Edward didn't say anything, just continued to stare into his friend's dead eyes.

In a daze he floated towards the washbowl and began rinsing the blood off his hands, watching the small crimson clouds stain the clear water. He wiped his hands on the towel and started packing up his equipment, "What does the CO want with me anyway?" He asked Ray in a bland voice.

Ray shrugged, "Don't ask me I'm just the messenger. I only went to get some bandages for you but he cornered me in the hallway and asked me to bring you directly to his office." He cast a weary glance at the door, "You'd better hurry up and go. He's quite the impatient type."

Edward merely scoffed, "Well he can't be worse than Barrow." They both started to laugh when a sudden thought pierced into Edward's mind. He frowned; they hadn't seen General Barrow since the Italians had opened fire on them. Then it was run or die. Since they had been on the ship, they received all their commands from the Navy. "Ray, where is Barrow?"

Ray's brow quirked, "He didn't get on the boat?"

Edward shook his head. "I'm not sure." How odd. Then again he might be on the boat. Everything had been so chaotic once they'd stumbled on board and as second medic, Edward's attention was demanded left, right and centre. Their ship was a key target for attack which kept them on their feet for days.

"Oh well, I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere. Anyway, I suppose I'd better find out what they want with me." He started to head out from the curtain but stopped, glancing half-way over his shoulder. "Listen Ray I know this is a big ask but can you...?" He jerked his head towards Harry's body, blood still trickling from his neck and dripping onto the gurney in a steady rhythm.

"I'll take care of it sir." Ray responded sombrely, casting a sad look at his friend.

"Thank you Ray." Edward allowed himself to smile briefly before ducking out of the medical cabin. He swiftly made his way towards the CO's office, wondering what on earth they had to talk to him about. Being aboard a naval ship was surreal, especially in the midst of all the excitement. This was his boyhood dream but if anything it only stirred his dormant yearnings for the Navy even more. Perhaps they knew this and wanted to offer him a transfer to – literally – jump ship. Joe could do it so why couldn't he? And to hell with what his father thought!

Finally he reached the CO's cabin. He adjusted his collar and cuffs then took a deep breath before rapping sharply on the door.

"Enter."

Heart thumping erratically, Edward pushed the door open and smartly marched inside. To his surprise, aside from the CO, three other men dressed in smart suits, hair slicked back neatly and staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"You wanted to see me sir." Edward began cautiously, unsure if he should hover near the door or walk all the way in.

"Ah yes of course Crawley come on in." Commander Ryder said warmly, gathering up some papers from his desk and tucking them under his arm. "Actually, it's really these men here who wanted to see you."

Edward automatically gaped at them. They wanted to see him? Who the hell were they?

"I'll leave you gentlemen to it then." Commander Ryder said with a smile. Edward moved to let him pass but stopped as the Commander placed a hand on his shoulder. "Edward I really hope you consider a career in the Navy in the future. I'd love to have a talented medic like you aboard my ship."

Edward's spirit soared, he laughed in disbelief. "Thank you sir. Thank you very much."

Commander Ryder gave him one last smile and exited the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Edward's good mood rapidly evaporated, his own smile fading on his lips as he cast a watchful eye on the three men standing in front of him, drinking in their appearances.

One man was short with a large mole on his left cheek, the other was of stockier build with broad shoulders and shorn hair, and the last man was much taller than the other two with a skinny frame and prominent cheekbones.

The man with the mole attempted to smile as he gestured to Ryder's chair. "Come and sit down Edward. We want a chat with you."

Edward watched diligently as the man with shorn hair pulled out the seat, indicating he sit down. The young Crawley obliged them yet all the while, his instincts were screaming at him to run.

"My name is Morrison." The mole-man said, pointing to himself and then to his friends. "This is Riordan and Garvey."

"Are there first names with that?" Edward joked hesitantly.

"You don't need to know them." Garvey said curtly from behind the chair, his voice much deeper than expected.

"Right. Well, what do you want from me?" Edward asked, his impatience wearing thin.

Morrison nodded, exchanging an impressive look with Riordan, "The boy cuts straight to the point. That's good. We like that."

Riordan didn't say anything.

"All right Edward," Morrison started, leaning against the door which made Edward feel more than a little uncomfortable. "Let's get straight to the point. We know your father."

Edward blanched, a little taken aback but not much. Many people knew the Earl of Grantham. After all, his father is a very popular man. But did they have to drag him all the way in here and away from the incapacitated soldiers just to tell him that? "There are lots of people who know my father." He told them steadily, itching to get back to his injured friends. "You'll have to be more specific if you want me to help you."

Morrison stared at him for a moment, and then nodded, "All right. I'll cut a long story short." He swept a hand around the room, "We are all part of a very important group."

He paused to see if anything registered with the young Crawley. Edward just raised his brow, urging him to go on.

"And in the few years leading up to the war our primary goal was to try and stop it." Morrison continued, watching Edward carefully. "The last thing this country needed was another war. The memory of the last one is still engraved in our memories and will be till the day we die. Why put this country through that again."

Edward nodded slightly, all though his mind was drifting back to a certain, similar conversation he had once had with his father, when he had asked to join the Navy and his father wouldn't let him. That was the day Chamberlain had announced that there would be no war. He remembered how relieved his father had been...

"We did everything we could think of." Morrison continued gravely, "We organized peace talks, conferences, meetings; anything that we thought would suffice. But of course it failed. Edward your father was a part of that group."

Edward snapped his head up, his heart hammering. Pieces were starting to fall together in his mind. Now they had his attention.

"What?" He asked sharply, positive he had misheard them yet knowing deep down he hadn't, "My father was a member of your 'important' group."

"Yes, emphasis on the 'was' my boy." Morrison said casually, "And here's where our short story gets complicated." He began to pace around the tiny office in a cavalier manner, all the while, Edward's eyes never left his face. "We decided it was hopeless to try and stop Hitler so we all thought hey -" He abruptly stopped pacing and spun round on his heel to face the curious Crawley. "Let's join them instead."

Immediately Edward switched to the one defence mechanism he had left. Laughter.

"That's ridiculous!" He tittered, shooting all three men incredulous looks underlined with sheer rage, "To even imply that my father is a Nazi sympathizer -!"

"Oh we didn't imply anything." Morrison interrupted, his face remaining completely stoic, "Your father wasn't having any of it. He left us."

"Good." Edward replied, turning his head away from them in such a manner that screamed this conversation was the end.

"Is it really though?" Morrison asked, taking a couple of tentative steps towards the boy. "I mean look around you Edward. Look what happened to your brother in Dunkirk." Edward released a small hiss of venomous fury but didn't say anything. "England is fighting a losing battle and you know it."

"I don't think so." Edward countered, his face morphing into a smug grin, "My brother and the rest of the RAF beat the Luftwaffe. I know that was enough. They won the battle."

"But they won't win the war." Garvey grunted.

"Ah, so he does speak!" Edward quipped, shooting the man a brash smirk. Garvey simply hunched his shoulders and refused to cater to his goading.

"We're throwing you a lifeline here Edward." Morrison said emphatically, "We made sure you were saved so we could bring you to our side."

Edward didn't know whether to laugh or not. This had to be some kind of joke surely?

"You want me to join your pathetic little group?" He asked, almost spitting in disgust, "And why on earth would I want to do that?"

"Our 'little' group is far from pathetic." Morrison responded in controlled patience.

"You're all Nazi supporters." Edward breathed, his eyes narrowing into thin slits of anger, "And to add even more insult to injury, you're British. You're supposed to be supporting your country. Do you know how sick to the stomach that makes me? You're all disgusting, every single one of you!"

"We are supporting our country Edward." Morrison fired back, deliberately choosing to ignore those last few words. "We're the ones that are going to change it and for the better. To restore England back to the way it was, back to when it was the height of success."

"Really? And just how are you planning on doing that?" Edward challenged in mock amusement, folding his arms across his chest and scrutinizing them in a patronizing manner. The Empire days were long gone and these men knew it. So why were they playing this ridiculous game?

"Join us and you can be a part of it," Morrison teased, his eyes glimmering with an expression so hungry, it actually made Edward's heart thump in ominous worry. "We know all about you Edward Crawley. You're smart, quick on your feet, headstrong. You could be a real contribution to us."

Edward blinked, his mouth dangling open while his eyes remained frozen on the men in front of him, completely succumbed to shock.

"Your father was too cowardly to stay and see it through like a man."

The comment was enough to snap Edward out of his daze. "My father is not a coward!" He spat, his rage boiling to the surface, "You ever say anything like that again and I'll knock you into next week!"

Garvey made a move towards the young medic but Morrison threw up a hand which halted him. "No it's fine Garvey. The boy's upset. It's understandable; he's been through enough this past week. To bombard him with this was just cruel."

"You're good I'll give you that." Edward growled, "Cornering me on a ship. Where I wouldn't be able to run anywhere."

"Actually Edward the Captain informed me that we're almost on English land." Morrison said simply, "We'll be home in a few days ."

"Good." Edward shot up from his seat, blood rushing to his cheeks as he, a mere boy faced these three, grown and powerful men. "Then I look forward to telling my father all about you. I'm sure he'll have some very interesting things to say to the Lord Chancellor."

Morrison didn't even flinch in surprise or fear. His expression remained perfectly neutral. In fact, all three of the men obtained the most stoic features.

"In fact, why wait?" Edward made a move towards the door but Riordan subtly blocked his path.

No one said a word.

"Get out of my way." Edward commanded in a dangerously low tone.

"It's all right Riordan." Morrison said in an offhanded sort of way. He placed a firm hand on his colleague's shoulder, gently pushing him aside. "If the boy wants to leave, that's his choice. I'll just find someone to escort him back to his cabin."

"I can escort myself thank you very much." Edward snapped, his voice dripping with acidity.

Morrison merely gave him a polite smile. "I insist. I mean it's the least we can do, dragging you here like this."

Feeling it pointless to argue with the man, Edward reluctantly sunk back into his seat. He observed Morrison exchanging a clandestine look with the other two men before swiftly slipping out of the tiny room. Edward folded his arms across his chest and tried to scrutinize and intimidate the other men towering over him. They merely gazed back at him, their eyes devoid of any real emotion.

Suddenly the door flung open.

Morrison marched into the room, his hand clamped around the leaver handle as he allowed two Naval police officers to enter.

Edward leapt from his seat. "What the hell is going on?" He asked Morrison, failing to keep the panic seeping into his voice. Morrison tilted his head up to observe Edward yet his expression remained as calm as ever. Edward nodded at the Naval police, "What are they doing here?"

"Is this the young man?" One of them asked, eyeing Edward suspiciously.

In an instant Morrison's eyes grew cold and hard as he focused them directly onto Edward's stricken face. "Yes." He answered, his icy voice masked with false worry. "That's him. This young man has gone completely insane. Officers, he was railing on and on about killing himself, we've tried and failed to calm him down. He keeps saying that he's going to throw himself off the deck so naturally we're very concerned for his safety."

"I – I'm sorry what?" Edward sputtered, incredulity burning in his dark orbs. "What are you talking about? I didn't threaten to kill myself!"

"Are you sure he's ill?" The other officer asked Morrison with scepticism. "He seems perfectly normal to me. Slightly shaken but nothing like the usual shell shocked victims we've seen."

"I'm positive." Morrison replied in a chillingly calm voice, "He's also suffering from extreme paranoia. He keeps saying that we're all 'out to get him' even his own division."

A cold, wet panic threatened to claim the young Crawley. "No, no you've made a mistake!" Edward hissed as the two officers seized his arms and proceeded to drag him out of the room. "I'm not insane they are!"

"Come on lad, out we go!"

"No you don't know what you're doing!" Edward cried, trying to wrap his legs around the hinge of the door in a pathetic attempt to resist. "You don't understand! Please, just listen to me God damnit!" He slithered his neck back so he could see the officers, "They are the enemy, they're spies, they confessed everything!"

Edward felt the hands clamped around his arms loosen in surprise, he buckled to the floor and tried to steady himself smartly but his legs were shaking too much.

"You see." Garvey interjected pointedly, "The poor lad is obviously very unstable."

"I'm perfectly stable!" Edward growled, managing to lunge towards the man. Rough hands scrambled to pull him back but he was like an eel, fighting off anyone who dared lay a finger on him. "I'm going to tell everyone on this ship everything! Everything you told me!"

"Get him out!" Morrison suddenly yelled, his face melting into hasty panic, "Get him into the isolation cell and keep him there until we get back to England!"

"You won't get away with this!" Edward yelled, his face turning puce with defiance as he writhed under the strong grip of the naval police while they tried to drag him away. "I promise you, you won't get away with this!" He tried to use his feet to climb up the wall and cling onto God to knows what, but one of the officers gently tried to restrain his legs. Without thinking, Edward aimed a savage kick in their direction which naturally heightened the severity of his situation.

"It's all right Edward." Morrison said in what he considered to be a firm tone injected with a drip of hope, "You're not alone anymore. We will get you some help."

If he hadn't been raised a gentleman, Edward Crawley would have probably spat in his face then and there.

Doors opened all around them as Edward's tormented screams reverberated around the narrow hallway. Officers and soldiers spilled into the corridor, mumbling in confusion.

Morrison narrowed his eyes at Edward, a look just for him, almost challenging him. His lips quirked upward in a menacing, threatening smile.

That did it.

Edward released a cry of fury and lurched towards Morrison. More officers swarmed onto him, hands grabbed him by the waist and quickly hauled him off kicking and screaming. He didn't know where they were taking him to, only that he had to get out! He tried to tell them the truth but his protestations fell on deaf ears. No one would listen. Everyone thought he was ill. They kept repeating over and over in soothing, patronizing drones that he was going to be 'all right.'

Then he felt his body slam onto a cold, metal gurney. He released a cry of agony as pain jolted through his spine. Hands kneaded into his arms, legs, feet and wrists, pulling on tight straps so he couldn't move.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked, his panic accelerating. "Please, just listen there are Nazi -"

A sharp pierce into his neck stunned him into silence. Cold liquid trickled down his shoulders and into his arms, leaking to his feet. A pleasant numbness tingled his senses. Oh God. He'd been tranquilized.

"Wait...what...say...Nazi...?"

Blurred voices drifted in and out of his ears, Edward tried to lift his head off the gurney but it was too heavy. Much...too...heavy... his eyelids drooped. But no – he had to tell them.

"Smmmm." It was all that hummed from his lips, his throat was locked in relaxation and his mind, growing numb.

"Wake...him...!"

His father's face swam before him, laughing and happy, his bright blue eyes shining with love, a picture from his childhood days. His head fell back with a fierce smack as the darkness finally claimed him.


to be continued...