Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey, but John and Anna certainly own me.
John Bates had had many different roles in his life – son, student, friend, soldier. Then came husband to Vera, although that was one he'd just as soon forget, along with invalid, and alcoholic. But through grit and determination he'd somehow managed to turn his life around, and he had eventually become husband to Anna, the love of his life. And now he was filling his most unexpected role of all – father.
He and Anna had a wonderful little boy…and another child on the way. When he'd first found out that they were expecting Johnny, truth be told, he had been both ecstatic and petrified. He'd had no experience with children, beyond the now-grown daughters of his best friend Robert Crawley, and wasn't sure that he was at all suited to be a parent. And, to be honest, he was frightened that he would make mistakes in parenting so serious as to – if not ruin his child's life - burden their start in life, resulting in lifelong issues that would end in years on a therapist's couch. Anna, on the other hand, had had no such qualms about him.
"You are kind, loving, gentle – the very best of men - and I know you will be a wonderful father," she had said firmly, every time he'd expressed doubts or concern.
The moment he'd first held newborn Johnny in his arms had been lifechanging. He'd blinked back tears, silently promising the tiny bundle that he would do anything and everything he could to do well by him. Gradually he had warmed to his new role, immersing himself in nappy changes, feeding, soothing, singing, playing, and reading bedtime stories. The years had passed, one after another, and not only had John developed a close relationship with his young son, but he had gradually come to accept that perhaps he wasn't a completely terrible father, after all.
The weeks leading up to Christmas were always a happy time in the Bates household. Decorations, music, holiday baking…it felt like an endless stream of festive treats for the senses that had the surprising ability to smooth out the rough edges of any challenges they'd had to weather during the year. Whatever had happened, the all-around cosiness and charm of December seemed to cast a golden glow over the end of the year, encouraging them to look to the future with grateful hearts.
The general cheeriness of the season made it doubly surprising when any member of their tribe seemed to be out-of-sorts. And there was no doubt about it, thought John, after a bit of keen observation…Johnny was brooding. And, for a four-year old, he was doing a magnificent job of it. The lad's brow was furrowed, as much as a small boy's could be, and he had a very intense look in his bright blue eyes that seemed to be focused on something that nobody else could see.
Generally, he displayed much of Anna's sunny disposition, for which John would be eternally thankful. But when the boy had something on his mind, he mirrored John's tendency to sink deep into thought, the gears in his mind turning so loudly that his father could hear them from across the room.
And here it was, a Saturday, with nothing more pressing than the decorating of gingerbread biscuits. But Johnny was absorbed in his thoughts while spreading icing and bits of crushed peppermint candy on the festive shapes. He was silent all through tea, then while in his bath and while brushing his teeth, and even as John read him his bedtime story. After closing the book, John paused.
"Do you have something on your mind, son? You've been rather quiet today."
Johnny looked up at his father, then pulled a glossy advert out from underneath the covers of his bed. He opened it, searching for a page, then handed it to John gravely.
John's eyes widened at the sight of the very expensive, flashy, jewel-encrusted bracelet on the page.
"A bracelet?" John asked, not sure what to make of it. "Can you tell me about it?"
"It's almost Christmas, Daddy, and I want to get this for Mummy."
John's immediate reaction would have been to laugh; the bracelet was not only far beyond the price range of the gifts they exchanged in their family, but it was also so much gaudier and showier than Anna would ever wear. Judging from his son's serious expression, however, this was no laughing matter.
"For Mummy? I'm proud of you for thinking of Mummy and wanting to give her a gift for Christmas…that's very thoughtful and kind. How did you come to choose this particular present?"
"It's special, and Mummy's special, so it's perfect."
"I see. And what makes this special to you?"
"It's sparkly and pretty and has lots of colours. Mummy likes colours and pretty things."
"She does like colours and pretty things. You're very observant to have noticed that. And you're definitely right that Mummy is very special."
John paused, choosing his next words carefully.
"Close your eyes and try to picture Mummy wearing this bracelet. What do you think? Does It seem like something she usually wears?"
Johnny, eyes closed tightly, frowned. "Mummy doesn't wear lots of jewels. She only wears her ring and that necklace with the blue stone."
"Very observant once again."
"Maybe this isn't a perfect gift, then…" The boy's expression fell. John pulled him close.
"Here's a little something I've learned about gifts, Johnny, especially gifts for Mummy – it's that the very best ones come from here." John placed his hand over his heart.
"From your chest?" Johnny looked perplexed.
"Close…the best gifts come from your heart."
"What? How can something come from your heart?"
"Something comes from your heart when you give it with a lot of thought and love."
"But how can I do that?"
"Well, when you thought of giving something to Mummy for Christmas, you said that she's special. Can you tell me what makes Mummy special?"
"She takes care of me and plays with me and gives me hugs. She listens to me, and if I get hurt she makes it better." Johnny stopped to think a little more.
"We have Muffin because of Mummy," said Johnny, referring to the tabby cat Anna had rescued as a stray. "She loves Muffin and she loves me and she loves you. Mummy loves everyone!"
"So would you say that what makes Mummy special is her love?"
"Yes, she loves everyone, but especially us!"
"You're right, there…Mummy gives us so much love every day. Now…can you think of a way to show Mummy how special her love is to you?"
"I'll have to think really hard," Johnny said, his brow furrowing once again.
"Of course – gifts from the heart take a lot of thinking. You give it a think, and then let's talk again this weekend sometime."
"Only we can't talk in front of Mummy. It has to be a secret!"
"I promise I will not ask you about this when Mummy is with us." John ruffled his son's thick blond hair. "And now it's time for sleep. You can start thinking after lights out, if you want to. I know I can sometimes do my best thinking after lights out. But for now, you might want to put away that picture, so Mummy doesn't see it and start to wonder if you're doing some shopping." John winked, and was rewarded with a smile.
The next day John could tell that Johnny was brooding once again, but this time he knew what had his son's mind working double-time – a gift that represented all of Anna's love for her family, and Johnny's love for her. And that evening, as John finished reading his bedtime story, Johnny looked up at him and announced,
"I have an idea. Mummy loves books, so I want to make her a book."
"That's a very creative idea! What will you put in the book?"
"I'm going to draw pictures of Mummy with us. The book will be all about Mummy and how she loves everyone."
"That sounds truly special, and it won't be something that anyone can buy; it will be something that only you can give her…from your heart. Will you need any help? What do you need to make your book?"
"I have crayons. I need paper that's nice, without the writing on the back," Johnny said, referring to the recycled printouts that they gave him for his everyday drawing.
"I'll get you some from my desk straight away. I'm proud of you, son. A book you make yourself – that's as close to perfect as you can get. It will be a wonderful gift for Mummy."
"I'm going to start as soon as you give me the paper. But don't tell her, promise?"
"You have my word."
When John returned home from work the next evening, he heard that Johnny had shut himself up in his room for most of the day. When he had made his way back upstairs after tea, and his parents could hear his door closing, Anna looked thoughtful.
"What can he be doing up there? I've scarcely seen him all day!"
"You'll find out, my love, all in good time."
"John, are you keeping some kind of secret from me?"
"We all keep secrets from each other at Christmas, don't we?" John's eyes twinkled with mischief. "I'm sure that whatever he's doing won't be anything to be upset about."
"Fair enough. All right, I'll stop asking." Anna leaned over and kissed his cheek, prompting John to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into his embrace. They held each other for a few minutes, content to enjoy the closeness.
"John, just a tiny hint…?"
"You're like a little girl at Christmas!" John laughed. "You'll find out soon enough."
"All right…maybe we should put on a film so I stop thinking about it."
"Sounds like a perfect plan," John smiled.
On Christmas Eve, newly-established family tradition dictated that they gather round the fireplace with hot chocolate, while John and Anna read "The Night Before Christmas" aloud, alternating stanzas. Johnny loved the tale of Santa's nighttime visit with his reindeer, but as soon as John had read the last words, the boy was bouncing up and down with barely contained excitement.
"Johnny, you're full of beans tonight. What on earth could possibly have you so excited?" teased Anna.
"We can each open one present tonight, right, Mummy?"
"Yes, we can each choose one for tonight."
"I want you to open this!" Johnny thrust a thin, flat rectangle wrapped roughly in red paper in her direction.
Anna's eyes widened, as she took the package. "Wouldn't you like to open something first, love?"
"No, I want you to open yours first."
"If you're sure… Now, what could this be?" Anna shook the package dramatically. "I don't hear anything rattling around…" She felt along the edges. "It doesn't feel like a ball…"
"Mummy!" Johnny laughed. "Just open it!"
"All right." Carefully, and far too slowly for Johnny's liking, Anna located the edges of the sellotape and peeled it away from the paper.
"A book?!" Anna exclaimed, as the paper fell away. She held up the packet of papers tied together on the left side with a blue ribbon. In large letters, the cover read "Mummy's Book."
"Yes! I made it myself! Except Daddy helped with the words, but I drew all the pictures and told him what to say."
Anna turned to the first page and her smile grew.
"This is lovely, Johnny!"
"Read it out loud, Mummy, just like you and Daddy read books to me!"
"Good idea! All right, here we go: 'Mummy loves Muffin.'" Anna held up the picture for them to look at. Johnny had drawn a stick figure with long yellow hair, her arms around a cat with pointed ears and a very long tail. She turned the page.
"'Mummy loves Daddy.'" Anna showed them the picture of two stick figures, one with long yellow hair and one with short brown hair, holding hands.
"'Mummy loves the baby.'" This picture showed Anna with a heart on her rounded stomach.
"'Mummy loves Johnny.'" The stick figure with long yellow hair hugged a second, much smaller figure with short yellow hair.
"'Mummy loves us. We love Mummy!'" All the figures, along with the cat, were in this picture, surrounded by a lot of small red hearts.
"'The End.'"
Anna wiped her eyes.
"Johnny, love, this is wonderful! I love it so much, and I love you even more!" She pulled him into a fierce hug and kissed the top of his head.
"I'm glad you like it, Mummy. Daddy said that I should give you something from my heart."
Anna looked over at John and smiled.
"Well, you certainly did that with this book. I will treasure it forever!"
Johnny beamed.
After Johnny had finally settled down from the excitement of the evening and had been put to bed, John offered Anna a mug of tea and snuggled in next to her on the sofa.
"Well, that was a lovely Christmas Eve, but I'm knackered," said John, with a wry smile. "I'm not as young as I used to be."
"You wouldn't change a minute of it for the world, though."
"Of course not. I marvel at the wonderful life I have now, thanks to you. I always loved the Christmas season as a boy, but now – sharing it with you and with our son – it's beyond anything I ever dreamed of. I can't believe how lucky I am."
"It's nothing more than you deserve. You are the most wonderful father, just like I always knew you would be."
"I feel like I'm always making it up as I go along," John reflected. "I wish I had more experience with children, like you do."
"You don't need more experience. You do just beautifully." Anna paused. "By the way, I was so touched by Johnny's gift. A book! However did he come up with that? Did you give him the idea?"
"It was all his idea. Not his first, mind you, but…"
"What was his first idea?" Anna's curiosity was piqued.
"A five-thousand pound jewelled bracelet that he saw in an advert."
Anna burst into laughter.
"What on earth? Why…?"
"He said it was special, and that it would be perfect because you're special too. Oh, and he pointed out that you like colours and pretty things."
"Oh, my…such a sweet thought. But five thousand pounds…!" Anna set her tea down.
"We could give you the Crown jewels, and they still wouldn't be enough for what you deserve, my darling. But a bit impractical…and not at all to your taste. The bracelet was rather gaudy."
Anna chuckled.
"How did you get him past that idea? Did he have his heart set on it?"
"I just asked him to close his eyes and imagine you wearing it. He came to the conclusion on his own that maybe it wasn't the perfect gift for you, after all."
"And how did he react to that?"
"He was a bit deflated, but then I told him that the best gifts come from the heart."
"I noticed that he used that phrase earlier. Did he know what you meant? That's rather an abstract concept for a small child."
"I asked him to think about what makes you special, and he decided it was your love for everyone. Then I asked him to think about what he could give you that would show how special your love is to him and to all of us. It took him a whole day to come up with the book idea. Then he drew all the pictures, and told me what he wanted me to write for him. Oh, and I helped him with the ribbon to tie it together."
Anna launched herself into John's arms, and buried her face in his jumper.
"It's the best, and so are you," she whispered, looking up at him, basking in the warm, tender gaze that she loved so much. "You're the best father our children could have."
"I'm sure there are far better fathers around," John stated.
"I'm sure there aren't. You lead with your heart in everything you do…with Johnny, and with me. And I'm sure you will with our new little one, as well. We are so lucky to have you. Just like with gifts, the best parenting comes from the heart. And that is you to a tee."
Anna kissed John tenderly. Tomorrow would be Christmas, full of more festive celebration with their son. But this moment belonged to them alone, a chance to give each other the sweetest gift possible – very much one from the heart.
A/N: Many thanks to JamesLuver, who is always willing to answer my questions about things British...and to lemacd, whose zero-pressure nudging and valuable feedback helped me push through and finish this, even when I thought I couldn't.