I hope everyone is keeping safe in these uncertain times. Things have been crazy :O

Mary had taken a wander down into the hospital garden to get some fresh air and to break the monotony of her morning. The hospital garden was a quaint little grassed area that resided at the back, it was simple, elegant and enough for what she needed it for. It wasn't the same as the vast open space that the Abbey had to offer, the broad rolling green blankets that were spotted with ancient trees, blooming flowers and the magnificent Folly that was centralised from the view from the library. Mary had spent many hours exploring the grounds of the Abbey, even in her younger years, and she had places that she knew she could go to if she just needed a little break from the normal stresses of her life. Those stresses seemed mostly irrelevant now, overshadowed by the giant of her grief, the monster of emotion that swam through her body and the behemoth of energy required to keep herself upright and functioning at the basic level. There had been a realisation, in the hours spent in her thoughts, that some of the things that drove her before, now meant very little. Taking time for herself, away from the home, meant that these things were not thrust back into her daily life, and so she could be thankful for the things she truly appreciated and missed. It had put a lot into perspective. What she needed to do was concentrate on the things that gave her joy, above the things that she was supposed to do because of who she was expected to be. The long and arduous conversations and arguments about the most ridiculous things seemed irrelevant here. Life in the hospital was simple, and she had grown fond of it almost.

The air had become a little warm outside, spring creeping out from behind the clouds like a bear out of hibernation. It reminded her that the world was beginning to wake from its winter slumber, like that bear, and the world was beginning to fill with colour. Small yellow flowers peeped out in the corner of the garden, reaching towards the sun like beautiful silk fingers, intent on taking in as much of the sun as they could. The world just seemed to be a bit happier when the sun came out, and so she tried to absorb as much of it as she could, like the flowers, trying to fill herself with the warmth from the sun's rays. It was all a pleasant distraction for her.

A bird flew down onto the grass a few metres away, and Mary watched with curiosity as it dug into the soil with fervour and determination. The bird gripped something and gave it a sharp tug, removing it from the soil in one quick pull. Wiggling angrily, the worm flapped around in the bird's beak, not knowing what was going on. The bird lifted its head towards the sky, before opening its wings and flying up into the air before heading into the nearby tree. Mary blinked, marvelling at the bird's speed and agility, and the beauty and agony of what just unfolded in front of her. The worm, completely ignorant to the situation, was plucked from its life and would die, but in contrast, would feed and keep the bird, or it's chicks alive. It allowed a small ball of sadness to creep back into her psyche, the worm reminded her of Matthew, going about his life without a care in the world, to then be plucked from it without any notice or hesitation. It didn't make sense to Mary in some respect, at to how something like that could remind her of Matthew yet again, especially as his life was taken without the consequence of bringing life to another. It was a cruel accident. Matthew was taken too soon.

The sadness started to bubble in her stomach, leaching out into the rest of her body like ice water pulling all the warmth from her core. Mary saw him flash before her eyes, the look of absolute awe on his handsome face when he first saw his son. It was meant to be the moment that stayed with her and filled her with love for many years. Instead, it was the pinnacle and start of her unravelling. It was the moment that started the crumbling of her core. Not too long after that, they told her what had happened, and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Then she found herself at the bottom of the darkest and deepest crevice known to humanity, her whole body struggling to breach the top and carry on. That narrow slither of light at the top of the crevice was no longer as thin as a hair, it now resembled the width of her arm, the steps upward were hard, but she was trying.

Mary tried to distract herself as quickly as she could, turning to look back at the flowers she had been staring at before. They didn't look so inviting any more, a shadow sitting over them from the same tree the bird had flown into, like a shadow of the grim reaper himself. Sighing, she steadied herself and took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the tepid air until she couldn't take in any more. Then, slowly, she let the air out of her lungs as she tried to calm herself. What she had to do was not let this overwhelm her, and so she tried to move her thoughts to something different, something less painful and more inviting. Turning to look back at the hospital, she looked up at the windows and guided them across, wondering if any of them belonged to Carson. Nobody had explicitly said that she couldn't go and see him, so she decided she would go to him and see how he was. Since his waking she had not yet seen him, so she deemed this the perfect time. It felt normal somewhat, to seek comfort in him when she was unhappy. Of course, she didn't do that previously when she had needed to the most; a silly and costly mistake.

It didn't take long to ascend the stairs and reach his room, knowing without even thinking the way she needed to go. A nervous feeling fluttered in the pit of her stomach because she knew that this was the first time she had faced him whilst he was conscious after what had happened. Mary had to apologise to him, and she had to thank him for being there for her when she needed it most; like he always was. The conversation would not be the hardest she would have to have, because Carson was one of the most understanding people she knew. No, the conversation with her parents was the one that was causing her the most unease, but she was going to broach that when it came. It was hard to anticipate a conversation like that because it was hard to anticipate a person, and the actions that followed were going to be as unpredictable as the weather.

Peering around the doorway, Mary was pleased to see that Carson was awake. A few pillows were propping him up at an angle, the light from the window highlighted his face and it made her happy that the residue of his head injury seemed to be fading. The expression on his face was one of a deep concentration, his thick eyebrows were knotted together, and his lower lip was pushed out slightly as his eyes moved from side to side as he read the book in his hand. It was a warming sight for her to see, and she had been waiting avidly since she first stepped foot into his room; to see him awake and alert. There was a small vase at the side of his bed that was filled with an array of brightly coloured flowers. The flowers were arranged very nicely in Mary's opinion, the red flowers were the biggest, the petals wide and vast with smaller flowers cradling them from beneath. Mary wondered who had sent them. Casting her eyes over his face once more, she noticed that he had tried to flatten his hair to the side, like he always did, but there was a piece that didn't want to lie down. It was this little imperfection that made her smile because she could just picture his reaction if he knew that it was there; always needing everything to be in the correct place. Carson took in a deep breath and let out a sigh, shaking his head before closing the book at his current place. "Is it not very good?" Mary said as cheerily as she could, closing the gap between them as she crossed the room.

Carson's face, upon hearing her voice, lit up like a Christmas tree. The creases that had lined his brow from concentration, pushed themselves upwards as his face contorted into a happy state. The edges of his mouth moved outwards, pushing his cheeks into little balls as he smiled, his face truly reflecting the gladness at seeing her in the same room as him. "Oh, Lady Mary."

Mary could see that he was going to try and shift himself to get out of bed, to stand in front of her like he would in the home. "Stay where you are, Carson, please. Am I disturbing you?"

Carson ceased his movement and leant back into the pillows, gazing upon her face for signs of her well-being. "Of course not, Lady Mary. I will always make time for you, and I have an abundance of that at the moment."

Mary watched as he tried to flatten his nightclothes, clearly conscious that he was not in his usual state of dress; a little put out by the fact it seemed. "Now, please, tell me how you're feeling. I've been itching to come and see you since you began to stir. They ushered me out as quickly as they could."

"Well, My Lady, I'm feeling well-"

"You had a ghastly hit to the head, Carson, and have been unconscious for several days. I'd say that doesn't create the essence of wellness. Please, tell me." Mary sat still, watching eagerly as he formulated his answer.

Carson nodded. "Well, My Lady, I still have some pain and discomfort in my head. It's manageable as they've given me painkillers to help. Aside from that, and a few minor memory issues- nothing major- I'm feeling completely fine."

"Memory issues?" Mary felt her stomach flip at the words. This was her fault. What if this turned into a long-term issue? What if this prevented him from doing his job?

"Oh yes, My Lady, nothing major. There's just the odd thing that's a bit fuzzy in one's head, bits that don't seem to join but it isn't going to hinder me. Dr Clarkson says there is a slight possibility that it will never come back, but more often than not, it does over time. Nothing to worry about. Nothing that will impact my way of life."

Mary nodded, her whole attention on him. There was an unease within her when she thought that this could lead to anything that would impact him. It was important to her, so very important, that he be fine out of all of this. Not only because she was personally responsible for his current situation, but because she couldn't bear to think about being home without him there in her current state of mind. It was a little selfish in a way, she knew, but Carson belonged at Downton Abbey because he was the heart of the Abbey itself. Carson was like gravity, keeping the pieces firmly together as the world around the Abbey tried to pull it apart. "Are you missing it?"

"Missing what, My Lady?"

Mary smiled. "Missing being home."

Carson briefly cast his eye to the window, collecting his thoughts before returning himself to the room. "I'm not one to be idle, Lady Mary. I've spent most of my waking hours since I was a young boy being busy. I don't particularly enjoy having so much leisure time, so to speak, because I don't feel like I'm being useful."

"If it helps, Carson, having you here within the same walls as me, gathering your strength and getting better is useful. As silly as it sounds, I'm glad to have you close, to know I can come and see and talk to you without the hustle and bustle of the Abbey. You being here is useful because then I know you're on the mend." Mary turned and picked the book up off of the stand and looked at the writing on the spine, noticing that the book was most certainly a boring one. "I must get you something better to read. These flowers are beautiful, whoever sent them is very kind."

Carson watched as Mary lifted her hand to stroke down one of the big red petals, rubbing her finger along the surface before returning the book with her other hand to its original position. It was quite clear to Carson that she was a little preoccupied, a likely residue from what she had been through, but he wasn't going to press. "They're from the staff. They were delivered this morning. It's a lovely and well-appreciated gesture, My Lady."

"They're beautiful." Mary admired them for a few more moments before turning to look back at him. The creases that lined his eyes at the edges, the way his eyebrows fluffed out at the top, and the way his hair peppered at the sides all still present and accounted for. "I'm very glad you're on the mend, Carson. Very glad."

"It takes a lot to keep me down for long, Lady Mary." When their eyes met briefly Carson could see the unhappiness resting in her eyes like a beacon from a lighthouse. There was a smile on her lips, but her eyes were the ones telling the story. It was not the same level of uninhibited grief that plagued her in the woods, because that was something he would never forget. That grief and sadness were raw, unadulterated and burnt into the soul. No, this was much less severe than that. Carson was not stupid, and he knew that grief did not just evaporate like morning dew, and it would take time, a lot of time probably, to subside. Maybe that is what she meant by being glad that he was near? So she had someone to talk to? That idea filled him with pride. "I think you should concentrate on feeling better within yourself, My Lady. Gather your energy, take the time you need, be selfish in your time and do what makes you happy. It is the little joys in life that help you appreciate what you have, what you need and what you must live for."

"You've already gifted me with some semblance of that, Carson. You are right though, you always are, because I was thinking about that earlier. Since being in the hospital I've been able to take time away from the expectations that sit above my head on a day to day basis. I now know what I miss, what I don't miss and what I need less of. Things just seem so trivial sometimes, don't they? All those things that I worried about, made a space for at the forefront of my brain daily. And for what? It seems so ridiculous."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Lady Mary. It's all a matter of perspective. Time changes how we think, and it's not right to chide yourself on past thoughts and priorities. You can't change it, you can just learn from it."

"Another notion of sense, Carson. I suppose I just feel angry with myself for getting so caught up in it all when there were more important things to give my attention. All those times I got angry or annoyed with Matthew," she paused at the sound of his name. "When I could have done more with him, learnt from him and loved him more." Mary closed her eyes and exhaled forcefully. "I'm sorry, Carson. I should leave you to gather your strength."

Carson shook his head. "Please, My Lady. Do not trouble yourself with that." A nurse walked past with a trolley in the corridor, the clattering pulling them both from their thoughts. Carson took this time to look at Mary like a Father would, his mind going through how she looked, how she sat, how proud he was of how far she had come since the other night. "Are you well, My Lady?"

Mary fiddled with her fingers. "Oh, I don't even know where to start, in all honesty. I still struggle, more often than not. There is so much out there that reminds me of him. I look at the flowers, I look at the trees, I smell something in the air and then I'm transported to another time when he was still here. I get myself straight, and then suddenly it's there again like a fox to the rabbit. I miss him, more than words can express. I still can't believe this is real. I was just in the garden, marvelling at the way spring was coming, and then I saw something and it reminded me how he was ripped out of my grasp and it knocked me. That's when I thought I should come and see you because you always know how to make me feel better."

Carson leant forward, trying to bridge the gap between them. "Whatever you need, My Lady."

Mary smiled and shook her head. "I came here to offer you my gratitude and my thanks, but here I am talking about myself," she sighed. "I owe you so much. You risked yourself, you all risked yourselves, to find me. I had placed myself out there intending to make the pain go away. You found me, you persevered with me and helped me see through the mist that gripped me in a vice. You held me, you helped me see the bigger picture. You didn't push, you didn't make me feel worse for my actions, and you made sure that I was safe. I owe you for that. I want to say sorry, from the bottom of my heart, for having risked your life through my selfish actions. I want to say thank you for how you were with me, for how you always have been with me. Ever since I was a child, you've been there for me without me even asking. We are all so lucky to have you, Carson."

Carson smiled. It was that smile he had when he looked upon something he loved. The smile was pure, filled with pride, love and made his eyes thin like a letterbox. "Lady Mary. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. It is that strength that has you here today. It takes a lot to listen to the truth because often it's the truth that we do not want to hear. If you didn't have that resilience and strength in you, it wouldn't matter what words I spoke to you. You have a core of iron, My Lady. I will always be here to help wherever I can, but you must realise just what you are made of yourself. Mr Crawley saw through everything; he saw what lay beneath and that is what he loved. Grief is like a toxin, and it can knock down the greatest walls, and so it is important to build them back up. You'll get there, over time, and I will be there until you feel yourself once more. I will be there. Always."

Mary laughed a little as the tears began to free-fall down her face. "I don't deserve you, Carson. You always know how to pick me up."

Carson smiled, happy to be having a positive impact on her. It moved him a little, a small ball sitting high in his throat that he tried with great urgency to swallow away. "I am glad that I can be of some use, My Lady."

Mary reached out and placed her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before returning it to her lap. "There's something I wanted to ask you whilst I am here."

Carson placed his hands at either side and pushed himself upwards, giving her the respect and attention that she deserved. "Please, My Lady, if there is anything I can help with."

Mary reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope with Carson's name on. "I've been thinking about what I could remember about being in the woods, and I remember telling you whilst you were unconscious that I had written you a letter, and if I ever got the chance I would give it to you. Anna kindly brought them to me, and I've been keeping them safe until I feel it's the right time to share them. I might not share them all, I'm not sure yet. I know that some people will think that I should destroy them because they were written when I was not myself and speak truths that people will likely not want to know. I think that they hold the truth because I was uninhibited in my words as I feared no repercussions. I am going to stick true to my word and share this with you because the words are far more eloquent than what I could verbally express right now. When you are better, and we are both home, I am going to give this to you. I've thought about it, and although it'll pain me, I'm also going to explain to you why that particular place in the woods means so much to me. You saved me, Carson, and I want to be able to explain my actions to you. I owe you that."

"My Lady, you do not owe me anything," Carson said firmly.

"Oh, but I do. I really do. Once we are both home though, Carson." Mary lowered her head and gave him a look so he knew that there was no room for leeway.

Carson's lips lifted at the corners. "Well, Lady Mary, I will be honoured."

Mary stood herself up and tucked the letter back into her pocket. When she left her room she always took them with her, wary of leaving them to be found by someone. They were just a little too intimate to be read by anyone but the intended recipient. Just being here with Carson and talking to him about how she was had made her feel a little better, a small weight had lifted from her shoulders and chest. "I better let you get some rest. I'll get Papa to dig something out for you and send it down with Mrs Hughes."

Upon hearing the name of his colleague, he perked up a little, tilting his head at the unusual placement of her name. Was she going to be coming down to see him? That would be a lovely thing if she was. It would mean he could get an update on what is going on at the house, and ultimately see if she was ok. The unusual feeling he had upon seeing her so broken in his dream hadn't left him. As he had so much time on his hands, he had thought about her a lot more than he probably should have. It was a pleasant reprieve from the standard decor of a hospital room, her bright twinkling eyes looking back at him, sucking him in as they did. "Mrs Hughes, My Lady?"

"Yes," Mary confirmed with a puzzled look on her face. "Has she not been down yet?"

Carson felt very confused. It hadn't dawned on him that she had planned on coming down to see him. Had he missed the message? Was something the matter? Did she need his advice? "No, My Lady. Should she have?"

Mary felt a little perplexed. Mrs Hughes had been down almost every night. Now, when he was awake she hadn't been to see him. The worry that Mary had seen in her eyes had been unmistakable. Nightly, like clockwork almost, she had been there and sat by his side. "Perhaps she's been busy. Almost every evening, once she had finished for the night, she would come here and stay with you. Then she would leave in the early hours to get back up to the house before the day started again. I'm sure she's very eager to see you now that you're awake, so I just anticipated that she would be down soon enough for me to get you a replacement book. Oh, I'll arrange something," Mary said positively, clasping her hands together. "I'll come and see you again tomorrow."

Carson smiled whilst his mind tinkered over the current information to hand. "Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, Lady Mary."

Mary nodded and left the room. Carson let his mind process the words that she had spoken. Mrs Hughes had been here almost every night, by his side, after a long days work doing both of their roles. Not only that, but she had stayed until the morning before going off to do it all again. That showed great determination and care, almost, for him. This was not something that he had at all expected. Carson assumed that it was going to be awfully busy at the house, the normal daily routines and jobs being thoroughly executed and arranged by Mrs Hughes' keen eye for detail. It was not necessarily going to be an easy job to maintain, but he had faith that she would do it. There was a warm feeling in his stomach, his brain working through various scenarios as to why she would spend so much of her well deserved rest time with him. Of course, they were friends, but this seemed a little more than that. Was he just reaching? Was he making up something that he had craved for so long? As content as he had admitted to himself at being in her company, and as co-workers, it never really dawned on him that potentially it could be something more than that. "Oh, calm yourself, Mr Carson," he chided, trying to keep his thoughts at bay. "You're probably overthinking the whole situation." Perhaps Lady Mary had exaggerated what she had witnessed? It was innocent, no doubt, and that's what he kept saying over and over in his head. It didn't matter though, how many times he said it, there was this warm ball of hope within him now that made him question his stance in her eyes. Had he missed something that could have been so obvious? He had planned on continuing the book, no matter how drab, but he would never be able to concentrate on it now, there were too many things to dwell on. Mr Carson, for the first time in a long while, felt nervous. It was as if a box of butterflies had erupted within him, and they were fuelled by the image of her, as perfect as anything that he had ever laid eyes on. "Oh, Mrs Hughes," he whispered, before turning his attention to the window, his mind lost in thoughts of her once more.