A/N: This was an idea that popped into my head one day and I just had to write it down! I don't think I'll go further with this idea unless I am hit with some sudden inspiration. I hope you enjoy it!
"I honestly cannot recommend this to anyone."
"I am listening, but of course I'm planning to start one of my own."
Mary sat on the edge of the tub, hardly daring to believe it was a possibility. In the weeks since Sybil's death, she had been far too consumed with sorrow to even contemplate allowing Matthew to touch her in that way. She held him close, of course, and treasured him all the more, but it was one of the last things on her mind what with the funeral arrangements and christenings, to say nothing of her own grief which had yet to dissipate.
And, of course, there was the other reason. The one staring her right in the face. She recalled Sybil's discomfort, the pain she had been in before leaving them behind, those horrible, agonizing screams... and it terrified her, to realize the very same thing could happen to her.
It was stupid, she knew, to fret over such things. Any one of them could die at a moment's notice; it was a lesson she had learned even before the war. There was no sense in cowering in fear over the inevitable and stopping herself from living her life and fulfilling her dreams, but Mary wasn't ready to be pregnant just yet. After watching childbirth claim her sister, Mary needed more time to get herself used to the idea, to remind herself pregnancy was not necessarily a death sentence.
But fate loved to play cruel tricks.
It must have happened before, she realized. Mary supposed her and Matthew had been fairly enthusiastic, eager to start a family and embracing in the fact they could love one another fully now. It was a miracle that they had ever left their hotel room on the honeymoon. Anna had accompanied them to France, of course, but Mary hardly needed to ring for her in the evening's, as Matthew was perfect able (not mention extremely willing) to divest her of her clothing.
Mary had hardly noticed it, what with the funeral and Tom and the baby, but she had missed her cycle. And now she had missed it a second time.
So when the realization hit her in the early hours of the morning when she should have been sleeping, Mary left her bed and went to the bathroom: first, to process things, and secondly, to cry without being overheard by her husband.
Now that it had sunk in, the tears were impossible to reign back. The logical part of her knew it was stupid to cry. Since marrying, becoming pregnant was the one thing her and Matthew had been wishing would happen. Mary knew she ought to be glad, that she was going to have the baby they had desperately had wanted, to possibly give Downton its heir... but all she could think about was darling Sybil on those last days. She had been so happy, cradling her baby in her arms, proud of herself and of her beautiful little daughter. She had no idea what was coming, they had all thought the danger was over...
Mary let the tears stream down her cheeks. She wasn't ready yet... She needed more time!
She heard stirring from within the bedroom and tensed up. The tears continued rolling down her cheeks as she listened carefully. There was the slight creak of the bed, a soft groan and a yawn from her husband. Then footsteps shuffling across the carpet, towards the door... and then a knock. "Mary?" Oh, God... it was Matthew. "Darling, are you in there?"
"Yes," she said, somehow managing to keep her voice level.
"Is it safe for me to come in?"
Mary wanted to say no, but instead she found herself replying, "Yes. You may."
She didn't look at him, staring down at her knees. "I wondered where you had gone," he said, clearly in more jovial spirits than herself. "I woke up and— darling, what is the matter?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. Everything's fine."
"Everything is not fine," he disagreed, kneeling on the floor and reaching for her hands. "You're crying."
Mary shook her head yet again. "I'm just being very silly. That's all."
"You could never be that," he breathed, his eyes meeting hers. Mary was taken aback by his intensity, the worry she found on his face. "Please talk to me, Mary."
Mary blinked back anymore tears. "Like I said, nothing is wrong." Before he could say anything more, she said, "I— I believe I'm pregnant. That we're going to have a baby."
Matthew gasped, mouth falling open. In spite of her own fears, Mary allowed herself a small smile. He had reacted just as she imagined he would... and she had imagined it frequently. "Darling, that's wonderful!" Before she could say anything, he slowly rose up, lips meeting hers. Mary welcomed it, treasuring his closeness just now. She hadn't realized just how much she needed it... she felt foolish for hiding away from him, especially when he was the very balm to her pain.
When they finally parted, he was somewhat breathless. "Have you— did you just—"
"I haven't been to see Dr. Clarkson yet, if that's what you are asking." It was strange— it was if there were times she understood what Matthew meant, what he was thinking, without him needing to say a word at all. She wondered if was just that, since marrying, she had come to understand him better or if they were perhaps one half of the others soul. When she was younger, she might have dismissed such a notion, but Mary figured that she was in love; she was allowed to believe in those silly sorts of things now.
"You ought to see him, or have him come here, at least," said Matthew, stroking her hand. He smiled again. "A baby—"
It was impossible to stop herself from letting out a sob. Matthew's ministrations stopped. He hesitated. "Are you quite alright? Aren't... aren't you happy?"
She was. She would be, once she stopped being so silly. But all Mary could admit to at present was, "I'm frightened, Matthew."
"Oh, Mary..." Soon she was wrapped in a hug, shielded from the world and any judgement by him. Feather light kisses were pressed to the top of her head. "Of course you are. I'm sorry... I didn't even think..."
Once she calmed down, Matthew drew back, wiping away her tears. "You've nothing to fear." Before Mary could insist that there was plenty to fear, he said, "We'll make sure Clarkson is involved every step of the way and ensure thorough examinations, to make sure you're both safe."
"It's not just that," confessed Mary, another concern weighing heavily on her now. "How... how are we supposed to tell Tom? Won't this bring it all back for him?" Since Sybil's death, Mary had made good on her promise to Sybil that they would know him and value him. He was a part of their family now and Mary had come to care for him; Matthew had too, the two of them becoming almost as close as brothers. He had relied on them, as well as Edith, for support. To come to him with this news when he was still covering from his wife's dramatic, tragic death during childbirth seemed highly insensitive.
A conflicted look crossed Matthew's face. "Leave Tom to me. We can tell him first, before letting everyone else know, if that will make you feel better." He hesitated. "But you know he won't begrudge us, don't you?" He reached out to cradle her face with his hand. "Besides... little Sybil will have a playmate to keep her company. They'll be best friends."
Mary couldn't resist laughing. "Just because they are close in age doesn't necessarily mean they'll get on. Look at Edith and I."
Matthew let out a sudden bark of laughter which seemed to fill the bathroom, echoing thanks to the tile floors. "You're right." He paused. "But I do hope they will be friends. It might be a while before our little prince gets any siblings." He paused, deep in thought before saying, "Though I suppose we might have a little princess."
Mary looked up at him. "Would you still be happy? If it is a girl?" She knew all too well the burdens such a fate carried.
"Of course." He leaned down, kissing her. "And if she were to have any brothers, I would make sure she knew she was just as loved and as valued as them."
Some of her anxieties alleviated, Mary kissed him again, pouring out all her gratitude into it. When they parted, it was too soon, and Mary was already eager for more. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to simply savor his touch, feeling guilty or worrying she was forgetting Sybil. But now... Now, she needed him to hold her, to kiss her, just to love her.
"You'll miss breakfast," she warned him after they made their way back to their bedroom. Matthew had climbed back into the bed with her, continuing to lavish her with kisses.
"I'll steal yours," he teased.
"No, you won't." Mary's hand fell to her still flat stomach, as if she might possibly feel
something. "You'd be stealing from me and the baby."
The tender smile Matthew bestowed upon her made her heart melt. "No, I won't," he agreed. He removed her hand before kissing it softly. "You seem more excited now." She heard the unspoken question in his voice.
Mary shifted, a little uncomfortable. Truth be told, the idea was still a daunting one. "I won't pretend I'm not still worried or scared... but we are going to be parents. I might as well get used to the idea." She didn't doubt more fears would creep up throughout the course of the remaining seven months but at this moment, she was feeling more secure and less concerned.
Matthew studied her carefully, looking very solemn. She worried briefly that she had cast a shadow over his joy but he then said, "We'll take every precaution. You'll give birth in the hospital and have regular appointments to make sure everything is as it should be."
Mary frowned and said without thinking, "But the heir has always been born at Downton. That's the way it has always been for centuries."
"I wasn't born here," he pointed out. "You know I believe in keeping certain traditions alive, but none of them are worth jeopardizing you... either of you." He met her eyes.
"Of course. You're right." Mary suspected that once the family found out, they'd all be in agreement. Having witnessed for themselves how things could go terribly wrong, this was something they could all agree upon.
But thinking of telling the family made her think of Tom and worry about him all the more. She reached out to grip Matthew's hand in order to soothe herself. That could come later.
When Matthew finally was able to extricate himself between their sheets in order to ring for Molesley and join everyone downstairs for breakfast, he kissed her temple. "I'll call Dr. Clarkson before I go in." Before she could say anything, he said, "That way then we'll have our confirmation and I'll have some peace of mind about you and your health."
"Very well," said Mary, supposing she couldn't object too much to his fussing over her. She didn't like it but she understood it.
He hesitated. "Are you feeling a bit better now, my darling? About all this?"
When she nodded, it was without any reluctance. "You know, I am." Mary had no idea what the future held but she knew the longer this information sat with her, the happier she would grow. Already she was picturing the blond haired children she had been envisioning since realizing she loved Matthew. "I think, had I learned sooner, I might not be... but I think now was the perfect time." Had there been no baby, had she waited longer, her fear might have won out in the end. How long might she have carried on, too terrified and afraid?
Matthew smiled down at her. "It certainly is," he said softly. She knew what was coming from the look in his eye and let her hand reach up to meet his cheek as he leaned down for another kiss. It struck her then, how very fortunate she was, and how much she would look forward to raising this baby with this wonderful man.