a/n:I have updated all of the previous chapters. I noticed irregularities in the story and some terrible spelling errors. I think they are 10x better now so if you want to re-read them, feel free to do so. I don't own any characters of downton abbey, not about downton abbey at all. This story is just pure fun. I'm trying to keep the events of the show entwined with the story the best I can but there will be some difference with timeline and scenes to fit the story and plot. Please also note that English is not my first language so even after proofreading there is bound to be mistakes, especially when it comes to sentence structure. I hope you enjoy this regardless, and there will be a sequel to this story (if not even a third part) later on. Also this Chapter contains internalised homophobia, so just a warning.

Downton Abbey
April 1919

"After that I am sure you know what happened Mrs Hughes" Thomas said and Mrs Hughes nodded.

"Yes, we heard of it, poor lad" She said, shaking her head in horror of Edward taking his own life. "And how we became a convalescent home"

"And O'Brien secured my position as manager of Downton which I gratefully accepted just to spite Mr Carson." Thomas felt tired for the first time in two days, the lack of sleep shutting him down.

"I suppose that was not the only reason" Mrs Hughes said "But you cannot say you have made it easy on Mr Carson either, on neither of us, with your words and actions — before the convalescent home or not, Thomas."

"That is how someone like me keeps everyone far away." Thomas closed his eyes "If they are already disgusted by me, they cannot be more disgusted later."

"It is sad you see it in such a way Thomas" Mrs Hughes said and stood up to leave Thomas to finally get some rest.

"It's not me who sees it so, Mrs Hughes, it's the law, the lord and the world — they see me as disgusting" Thomas turned to his side with his painful hand hanging off the edge of his bed.

"Foolish lad, you broke your own heart falling for Matthew Crawley" Mrs Hughes said once Thomas was finally asleep. She tucked the blanket around the footman before blowing the candle out and walked out the room, carrying the tray of their finished tea.

Crawley House
April 1919

Matthew stood in his bedroom and just stared at the walls around him. He thought it would be better here, where he could not lay eyes upon Thomas. Though these walls held memories as well and that was almost harder. It held memories of how foolish he had been, how unkind, and immoral everything had been — and how many smiles he have had, how insanely happy he had been. Everything he had pushed away about the immorality of their love had exploded back into his mind on that night, on the night of April, and now it was a battle within him how to erase this love of Thomas Barrow, because they could never be again. Matthew had to accept that he was being punished by God, and he should not be allowed to live a happy life ever again — 'a happy life, meaning to have Thomas again' Matthew thought to himself. He was punished by the pain they had caused, all the lives lost and ruined because of what he and Thomas had shared, now he had a broken heart, and that was all he ever would have. So there, in his bedroom, Matthew stood until night came, his mother went to bed, and that's when he went and reached for that bottle of whiskey, the same kind he had shared with Thomas when they felt untouchable — in the trenches of France. That night Matthew drank it all, drowning his sorrows to the point where his mind could not think and not until then could he find sleep, curled up around the empty bottle and tears still upon his cheek. Still, regardless of all the shame, even in his sleep Thomas was all he could see.

Mrs Crawley had awoken in the middle of the night, she stood in the doorway of Matthew's room and saw the sight of her son. It wounded her to know that his heart was so broken — so broken he had drank himself to sleep. She didn't know what to do, for Matthew didn't wish to speak of it, of none of it. If only she could help him find some peace after all, none of it had been Matthew's fault, he was not in control of such a disease. With a sigh she turned around, closed the door, and went back to her bed. She needed to help her son, that was her mission now.

With morning came no change, Matthew was shut away in his room with another bottle of whiskey to keep him company until the night. He was still trying to suppress every thought, every yearning for the footman in Downton. Matthew needed to get rid of these thoughts and feelings because they weren't right, he had been shown that. They weren't right, he told himself over and over again, trying to convince himself. Maybe he could be fixed, maybe then he could be forgiven. If he only could get rid of Thomas Barrow from his heart then maybe it would be sealed back up and allowed to be unbroken. Maybe he could be normal again and find happiness in a woman. Maybe it would work on him, maybe there was a way to cure him.

Downton Abbey
April 1919

"He is still not well enough? Very well Mrs Hughes" Carson sighed in annoyance. "But if he is not on his feet by tomorrow I fear he might suffer the same fate as Mr Lang, unfit for working!" He said harshly, his voice carrying down the servants' quarters and through Thomas' door. He laid on his side, eyes open, and heard the argument between Mrs Hughes and Carson — something that was as rare as summer snow.

Thomas' thoughts were upon Matthew, Daisy, Edward, Lavinia and what damage the war had left with them all, and the two latter had their lives taken due to it. His thoughts were to the bloodied bodies on the battlefield, the legs flying in the air and a German soldier with a gun to Matthew's head. His thoughts were upon his nightmare of just that, that Thomas had awoken sweaty from. Now the aftermath of war had taken Matthew from Thomas' arms and the last words they had shared, the words that still cut into Thomas because they had fallen from Matthew's lips.

"I'm'afraid Mr Carson is not happy, Thomas" Mrs Hughes said and settled the tray down. "Though he is just overwhelmed, we should be allowed to hire footmen back" She said with a sigh and settled a tray of porridge and tea down for Thomas'.

"You're far too kind to me, Mrs Hughes" Thomas said sincerely "far too kind."

Mrs Hughes sighed loudly and gave Thomas the bowl of porridge "If only you could be kind to yourself, perhaps you could show kindness to others"

Thomas said nothing to her comment and ate his porridge slowly while Mrs Hughes looked at his pale and sweaty face.

"Did you sleep Thomas? You still look tired" Mrs Hughes said with the concern she had grown to hold for the footman. She could even understand what he had said about keeping people distant but he took it to such extremes and that was what she couldn't quite make sense out of yet.

"I did but I'm afraid it was an uneasy one" Thomas said and poked the porridge around with his spoon. If it hadn't been for Sybil and Matthew, Thomas wasn't sure if he'd be able to open up this way to Mrs Hughes — before Sybil and Matthew he didn't believe anyone would hold anything but disgust from him. Though, to Thomas, that didn't mean he would stop being dismissive to others, to keep them away, because if the wrong person found out he would be the target of rumours and-or worse. He did find some comfort in having Mrs Hughes though, stern like a mother but with a heart of one as well — or the heart a mother should have at least. "I'm afraid that sometimes war haunts me still, it comes and it goes, and tonight it came and I heard the whistle blow, I heard the guns firing towards us" He said and stared blankly at his hand that held his battle scars.

Mrs Hughes said nothing about it but she reached out and patted Thomas' arm. He was so sweet when he wished to, when kindness was shown to him — kindness that he claimed not many had given him. "I have a moment if you wish to tell me another part of the story, His Lordship have taken Isis for a walk, her Ladyship is busy with god-knows what work, Lady Edith took a train to London and Lady Mary is at Haxley with Sir Carlisle" She said and brought Thomas back from his thoughts of the battlefields. "You do not have to tell me of the horrors of poor Lieutenant Edward, I cannot hear it again, so please, skip that part."

"I do not wish to speak of it again, for me and Sybil wept for him" Thomas said with a great sigh "There's not much to say until the time of the concert for the officers was to take place in Downton."

a/n: short chapter, sorry about that! But the next one is much longer and I didn't want to include this part in that and the previous chapter was too long already too and I wanted Matthew's internal struggles that has come back to have its own part.