She can already feel the impact when she arrives at the hospital.
The nurses are too polite to say anything to her face, of course. They smile at her, with a mix of sympathy and derision, but behind her back they titter about what other exploits she might have involved herself in.
Some of the soldiers are even worse, making risqué comments toward her that she chooses to ignore. Or tries to, at least.
And then there's Matthew, whose blue eyes stare straight ahead, almost unblinking.
"Matthew..." Mary whispers, as she approaches his bed.
His eyes rise and fixate on her unsettlingly. "Well?"
"You've heard, then."
"I don't understand."
Mary shakes her head. "Neither do I, it was just..."
"No," he says softly, but with a power that Mary hasn't heard him use in a long time. "No. I don't understand anything right now. I don't know what I am, where I belong, if I'm ever going to be able to function without flashing back thanks to every loud noise... I don't understand why you would... with him, but I can't blame you. Mostly, I want to understand something. Is this why? Is this why you put me off so long?"
She sits down on the edge of the bed and takes his hand in hers. "Yes."
"Oh, Mary..."
"I was so scared to tell you," she continues, blinking out tears. Her words spill out, one on top of another. "I couldn't tell you because I thought would you hate me. I thought you would realize I'm not nearly good enough for you, I'm not the model of chastity and purity that society expects. I couldn't bear having you think of me that way. I couldn't bear your dislike, your derision. And I suppose I got it anyway." She pulls away and tries to smile through the tears that are pooling in her eyes. "You just believed I was shallow. So did the world. When in truth, I was scared. I didn't trust you like I should have. I loved you too much to allow you to hate me. But I'm certain you despise me now."
"I don't," he says. "In fact, there's very little I know for sure anymore, but I do know this. I never could despise you."
Mary doesn't know how to respond, so she lets out a breath that she seems to have been holding in for ages. "Do you think you would have... been okay with it? If I had told you then?"
"I couldn't tell you. I'm not the same man, Mary. Now, I don't care. It doesn't matter to me in the least. Much of that is because I've seen much worse. But then... I might not have cared, I might have been too head over heels in love. Or I might have cared, or I simply might have been jealous. Who can say?"
She looks at her lap, and brings her eyes up to him again. "But you wouldn't have hated me."
"I doubt it. I don't know."
"I'm ruined forever," Mary says. She doesn't sound sad, or disappointed, or scared. After all, she deserves this.
"In a way, so am I," Matthew replies, trying to smile. "I'm a shellshocked mess of a man who can't go a day without thinking I'm back in the war. I'm like a small child who can't handle loud noises. I can't handle being here, surrounded by memories of the war. Every uniform I see reminds me, every wound haunts me because I know to the other side, I caused some of those wounds. But if it gives you any comfort, you're not the only one who is ruined forever."
Mary pats his hand. "I don't believe you're ruined forever. I don't think you're beyond recovery. Remember, I'm going to bring you back to yourself."
Mary retreats to her room halfway through the day, having withstood far too many looks, snorts, and glares.
Perhaps it would be better if she could go somewhere that no one knew her.
America is not an option. It is too far away, especially during wartime, and everyone would know her anyway. They might not know her scandal right away but she is the granddaughter of a member of American high society and she cannot hide there.
The continent is far too war-torn for her to escape there, and she has no one who would be willing to chaperone her there.
Who would chaperone her, anyway? Obviously they would never trust her to travel on her own.
Mama is too busy administrating the hospital and Mary has a sneaking suspicion that Granny doesn't feel up to any extended trip. Of course she would never admit it, but Granny is getting older.
Mary's mind drifts back, as it often has these last few days, to Matthew.
The idea hits her in an instant.
Matthew isn't going to do well at a convalescent home. He said it himself, wounds and uniforms surrounding him don't help him escape the war. And Mary wants to do what Dr. Carter said, to help him recover as well as possible.
Isobel will want to help him do the same.
And if Isobel were to take him away to a quieter place, less touched by war, where they could live in relative isolation to help him recover, perhaps she can go along. She could help him, and she could escape the looks and derision that are cast her way.
Perhaps her uncle Shrimpie has an unused house up in Scotland. In fact, she's fairly certain that he has a hunting lodge he maybe uses twice a year for shooting lunches, that would be perfectly serviceable for three people to live in.
She takes out a piece of paper to write him a polite request. And she resolves to go talk to Isobel.
"I'm not sure how you think you can pull this off," Isobel says, after hearing Mary's plan. They sit comfortably in the small library of Downton. "It makes sense to me, but Matthew is in the care of the army hospital system. They'll send him to a convalescent home as soon as he can be discharged. They won't allow him to go off to wherever with civilians who can't care for him medically."
"You're a nurse, though," Mary protests. "And can't they opt out of a convalescent home? Convalescent leave, don't they call it?"
Isobel sighs and reaches across to Mary, patting her hand. "It's not that simple. He isn't just here for shellshock, remember? His leg is badly hurt and wounds like that need careful supervision. They can get infected easily or heal badly."
"I'm sure there are doctors in Scotland..."
"The army has a very strict way of doing things and I doubt they want to bend to the whims of whoever."
Mary shakes her head. "He's not going to do well in a typical convalescent home. He bemoans being surrounded by wounded men, by reminders of the war. Dr. Carter said that certainly isn't helping him. If he's going to recover, a quiet place with only people he knows and trusts, people he doesn't associate with the war... that will be best for him."
"This isn't just about Matthew," Isobel says sagely. Mary begins to argue, but Isobel holds a hand up. "No, it isn't. I'm not blaming you, and I think your motives surrounding my son are pure. But those aren't your only motives."
"I need to escape Downton," Mary admits. "But I don't want to leave him." She realizes how intimate that sounds, and adds, "Dr. Carter wanted me to stay with him. He said I was helping Matthew immensely. And I don't want him to lose that because I'm running away from my mistakes."
Isobel sighs. "We can take it up with Clarkson. I doubt he'll concede, but I do think that this could be good for Matthew."
Clarkson, of course, does not approve of the idea. "I'm afraid that would test the order of things in a manner which would be time-consuming and pointless."
"We just want..." Mary begins to protest.
"Captain Crawley will be at home when he is sent to convalesce. In a way, Downton is his home. It will not be so unfamiliar. He is quite lucky, in that sense."
Mary sighs. "It isn't enough. Can't you see how much he is struggling, being surrounded by reminders of the war? A loud noise or a little bit of blood already sets him off, how much more will a tattered uniform or severed leg?"
"Were it just his shellshock that was the problem, I might agree with you. But Captain Crawley was severely physically wounded as well. I cannot, in good conscience, leave that out of a doctor's hands."
"Couldn't he get transferred to a doctor in Scotland? And Isobel is a nurse, she could easily see to his daily needs."
Isobel puts a hand on Mary's wrist, feeling the younger woman's passions inflame.
Clarkson sighs. "Army authorization for such a transfer is notoriously hard to get."
"I can get Papa to pull a few strings, allow it to fly under the radar," Mary says. "It will not be that difficult."
"I'm only opposed to it because Captain Crawley is my patient and I am very concerned about both his physical and mental wellbeing," Clarkson argues, "And I don't want him or myself to get in trouble with the Army by trying to do something like this. Besides, his physical injuries necessitate careful observance to optimize healing, something I'm not sure that whatever doctor you find up in Scotland can provide."
Isobel shakes her head. "I admit, I was reluctant when I heard Mary's idea. But as I think more and more about, the benefits far outweigh the troubles. We will find the best doctor that we can nearby, and we will provide a quiet, serene place for him. I have worked in the convalescent home at Downton and it is not quiet, nor free of reminders of the war, by any means. Even if he were not shellshocked, my son would find difficulty fitting into such a place. Now, I fear it would be even worse, and a transition like that could damage him even more. I'm scared for my son, Dr. Clarkson, and I can't say if he'll recover, but I'll damn well do my best to help him."
Clarkson looks down at his papers again, reluctant, but moved. "I'll see if we can manage something like this. It may require that Lord Grantham pull a few strings, and it is against my medical advice, but I can see your case."
Mary nods. "Thank you, doctor."
"Are you my nurse today?" Matthew asks, as he sees Mary walking toward him with a bowl of antiseptic and several towels.
Mary smiles and puts the bowl down on the tray at the end of his bed. "I'm your nurse every day, but Sybil showed me how to do this yesterday, so I'm a more serious nurse today."
She leans down to remove the temporary splint around Matthew's leg. Matthew winces as she does so. "Damn," he mutters under his breath. "Sorry. It just hurts when it gets moved."
"Shh," Mary calms him. She unravels the layers of bandages around the bullet wound and begins to carefully clean it. "This looks like it's healing pretty well. Clarkson said within a few days he should be able to plaster your leg and then you can be up and about again."
Matthew rolls his eyes, trying to disguise a wince. "Hardly. I'm not supposed to walk on it for the next three months."
"You'll manage," Mary says. It sounds harsh, but it brings a smile to Matthew's face. This is the Mary he knows, the Mary he fell in love with. Harsh, perhaps, but in the midst of caring for him in a way that he knows is not easy for her. There is something comforting about her being so Mary in the midst of doing something that is so not Mary.
Mary finishes cleaning the wound and wraps clean bandages around his leg, then puts the splint back on. "Careful not to move it," she says.
"I know, Clarkson has given me the lecture before," Matthew jokes, although there is very little humor behind the joke. There is very little humor behind anything he says these days, the war seems to have sucked all the humor out of him. A shame, Mary thinks, since they had the same sense of humor. She resolves that she will help to restore his sense of humor.
Mary puts the dirtied bandaged on the tray and sits down on the bed next to Matthew's uninjured leg. "So, your mother and I were wondering about what will happen to you when you are discharged. Of course, it's assumed you'd be sent to Downton to convalesce, but I almost wonder if it would be better if you weren't in a military convalescent home. You said all the uniforms and the wounds make you think you're back in France at times, it can't be good to be surrounded by all that while you recover."
Matthew shrugs, unenthusiastically. "Maybe not. I doubt there's much we can do about it though."
"Your mother and I have a plan, although we still need to get official approval. My uncle Shrimpie has a house up in Scotland that he is pretty much never using. You and Isobel and I would go live up there, we'd get a local doctor to care for you, and it'll be much more peaceful and serene than being at the convalescent home here would be."
He is silent.
"What do you think?" Mary prods.
"It's just... I'm not sure what to think... about anything, anymore, honestly, but especially about this. First of all, I'm shocked you care so much."
Mary rolls her eyes. "Really, after all this?"
He glances down at his lap. "I was joking," he tries to explain. "I know that's difficult for you to comprehend, since I've been such a miserable mess."
She isn't exactly sure what to make of his joke, or whether he is joking or not. His humor is so humorless now. "Anyway..."
"It could be helpful. I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything anymore, and that's the problem. If you ask me to make a decision, I can't. Half the time, I'm not even sure if I'm here in England or back in France. So if it could help me, why not? Just please... don't force me to make the decisions. I'm afraid of them."
Mary shakes her head. "Well, I guess I'll count that as your approval."
"Scotland sounds quite lovely. I've never been there." His tone is suddenly soft, his voice wistful. It's a change, but a pleasant one.
"It is."
Mary isn't quite sure how her father managed it (or how she managed to convince him to do it in the first place), but he manages to get Matthew transferred to the care of a Dr. Warren in Scotland, for when they make the trip up. She is thrilled, Isobel is surprised but pleased, and Matthew... he is happy of course, but he is also struggling.
"I feel a bit uncomfortable with it, is all," he argues. "It's special treatment; other men are going through the same or worse and they don't get the luxury of being whisked away to a mansion in Scotland to hide from the word until they can face it again." Sometimes Mary forgets that he is a lawyer, that he is trained in the art of reasoning, but for a second, she can see a glimpse of that Matthew again.
"We're doing everything we can to help you. You should be glad that you have people who care so deeply about you."
To her surprise, he chokes on his words. "I know," he says adamantly. "It makes me feel guilty just thinking about what all I have compared to others, and yet I'm still completely miserable inside myself."
Mary can sense that he's headed for a meltdown or flashback, so she grasps his hand and makes eye contact with him; it is uncomfortable and forced, but it is keeping him here on earth. "Don't feel guilty. Never feel guilty. You've been to hell and back, you deserve peace and quiet. Perhaps other soldiers deserve that as well, and don't get it, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't make you any less deserving. You went to war, you got badly wounded, and you ended up with shellshock. None of that was your fault, you didn't deserve any of it. But it just happened. In war, things just happen. We live with them. It doesn't choose who deserves what, it just lets some people lose less and some people lose more. You lost more, but that doesn't make you less. War doesn't discriminate, it takes whoever it likes. Count yourself lucky that you're here. The rest will come in steps. But it will come. And you will deserve every bit of it."
He is now actually crying. But he is still himself.
Mary gives him a concerned but unsure look. He glances upward and tries to smile through the tears. "I'm alright," he rasps. "I'm still here. It's just... I'm so glad. I'm so glad you're doing this for me. And what you're saying? It's helping. I think it is, at least."
"I'll be there in Scotland too."
"Thank God for you, Mary," he lets out. His eyes are red, bleary, and Mary realizes just how much he has cried over the last week. It's unlike, Matthew, really, but this Matthew is different. No, she must remind herself. He is still the same man. Just a changed one.
Wow, we're ..finally getting somewhere. I'm afraid this is going to be a slow paced fic, but that's the way it was designed. But if you're here for a fast paced and intricate plot, you're probably at the wrong place. But then again, you probably would have figured that out by now! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! Seriously, your comments make my day! So if you'd care to make a writer's day again, please drop a review!