Matthew is so shaken that he lets Molesley do all the work in getting him ready for bed, something he normally resists. But he can't get the water out of his mind, can't get the image of William struggling in the sea to leave him. His mind is too occupied to even think about what is happening in the real world.
The warmth of his bed should be helpful, but the memories are too pervasive, and he cannot escape the feeling of drowning. He can't close his eyes, or he'll believe he's back in the water.
He wishes he could step back and understand why this image is so strong in his mind but even as he tries to ponder from an outside perspective, the flashback still haunts him. He tries to shut it out, but that does nothing.
Can a person drown in his own ideas? Because that's what Matthew feels like.
Mary comes in as he is trying to settle down, and sits on the edge of the bed, placing a soft hand to his cheek. "How are…"
He interrupts her. "Not good. But I'm sure you realized that already."
Mary looks at him, unblinking, and quietly nods. "You look so lost."
"I am."
"What can I do?" she asks. It's a useless question, really. She has been asking it over and over again ever since he came back, and has received no answer. Nothing but being by his side has helped.
His eyes are so cold, so blue, like the waters he fears. "I wish I could tell you that."
"I found a copy of Persuasion. Would you like to read it?" Distraction. That is what he needs. Otherwise he will fall into desperation.
"Would you… read it to me?"
Mary nods. "Of course."
She reads to him late into the night, hoping that he will drift off to sleep. He does not. Every time he closes his eyes, even just to listen to her dulcet tones, the waters rise and crash over him, and he is drowning again.
Eventually there's a knock on the door. Isobel peeks her head into the room. "Mary, I think you ought to get to bed."
"Isobel, I…"
"It would be better, I think, if you weren't in Matthew's room this late at night."
Matthew frowns. "I want her here. I need her here."
Isobel's eyes turn to her son, and fill with tears that have for so long gone unshed. Of course it isn't proper, especially as she's reasonably sure that they have romantic considerations for each other again, but she can't do anything that might upset the delicate balance they have tried to sustain in Matthew's life.
"I'd rather you not sleep in there, at least. And leave this door open a crack. Just to make me feel like I've done my chaperoning duties."
This almost makes Matthew laugh. "Mother, we're both adults."
"And you would never have been allowed to come up here alone, just the two of you. So you can put up with a little chaperoning."
Mary grins and closes the book. "I guess this is as alone as we'll get."
He gives her a gentle smile and grasps her hand, but he begins to hear the waves crash above him again, and his smile transforms into a dead-eyed stare. The only thing keeping him anchored to reality is her hand in his.
"Matthew?" Mary whispers, squeezing his fingers tightly. "I'm here. The water isn't real, you're on dry land."
His response is not nearly as dramatic as she expected; he stares at her blankly, then blinks and fastens his gaze into something more inquisitive. "Mary… how far are we from the ocean?"
"An hour or so, maybe?" she replies, her voice uneasy.
"Could we… go there?" he asks.
"Why? It's the middle of November, it'll be freezing."
His eyes are stormier than the ocean off the coast, but he manages to keep his voice solid. "I need to… remind myself that it's there and that I'm here on land. And that there's more than the ocean between here and France. And… I just need to be somewhere open. I spent four years outdoors and now I can hardly leave the house, and it… it hasn't been an easy adjustment, as I'm sure you can tell."
"I'm not sure what your mother would thinking about us going to the seashore in November, but I will go with you if you'd like. I hope that it will accomplish what you're thinking it will, and that it won't bring up some rather unpleasant memories, but I can see why you want to go."
He smiles. "Well, we don't necessarily have to tell her. We'll just go for my physio appointment one morning, and let her know we're off on a day trip to somewhere. She'll worry a little, of course, but we'll be back by dinner." There's a glint in his eye that she hasn't seen in a very long time.
"You're very devious," Mary says, her heart swelling at Matthew's playfulness. "Are you ready to go to sleep now?"
He begins to nod and close his eyes, but as soon as he is in the dark, the waves seem to crash over him again, and he calls out for her. "I know what Mother said… but would you stay here? At least until I'm asleep. I know it's a lot to ask and I'm disrupting your sleep but…"
"Of course," Mary says, with no hesitation. "Are you sure you can go to sleep right now?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe. I need distraction. Talk to me… or maybe, would you sing to me?"
"Sing to you? I've hardly the voice for…"
He opens his eyes again and looks at her, the blue color piercing. "Remember the concert? No sound could have been more lovely. And in that case, I've nothing to contribute so all the better for helping me to sleep."
"You've got a nice voice yourself," Mary adds, although she's not sure why she's protesting this way.
"Please. It will make me happy," he says, closing his eyes and reaching for her hand.
While Mary is still insecure about her signing, especially with such an intimate audience, she acquiesces to his request. Her voice is soft, but tuneful as she begins to vocalize a familiar tune. Perhaps it is their song. After all, he had returned to her within its strains.
Sometimes when I feel bad
and things look blue
I wish a girl I had... say one like you.
Someone within my heart to build her throne
Someone who'd never part, to call my own
If you were the only girl in the world
and I were the only boy
Nothing else would matter in the world today
We could go on loving in the same old way
A garden of Eden just made for two
With nothing to mar our joy
I would say such wonderful things to you
There would be such wonderful things to do
If you were the only girl in the world
and I were the only boy.
As Mary sings the last chorus, Matthew's chest begins to rise and fall more easily. She repeats the chorus one last time to ensure that he is truly asleep before she stops. She brushes a stray hair out of his face. He needs a haircut, she observes with amusement, but she admires his sleeping face. He must have been so tired, she realizes, and yet almost unable to rest due to his recurring fears. She cannot wake him; he is still recovering and any sleep he can get is good sleep.
Carefully, she slips off the side of the bed and tiptoes across the room, taking one last look back at his sleeping form before entering her own room.
If only every distressing night could end this peacefully.
And yet, if Matthew had always had peace, she wouldn't have his love so boldly or so freely. And despite the hardship, that is one thing she cannot bring herself to regret.
The wind batters the car as the chauffeur drives it along a winding road under dark, threatening clouds. The ocean is just barely visible from the road. Matthew doesn't seem to be looking at it, though. Instead, he keeps his face trained on Mary the entire time.
Mary tries not to be disconcerted by this, but his stare is really quite intense, and he barely blinks. She finally can't stand his silent gaze, so she asks, "Is everything alright?"
"It's nice to see the world again," he says blankly.
He has been staring at Mary for the entire drive.
"I'm sure it is. How was your appointment?" she asks. She isn't sure if he'll take well to the subject, but it's worth a try.
"Miserable, unsurprisingly," he replies. His voice is devoid of any strong emotion. "The doctor is trying to get me to walk normally but with the crutches taking some of the weight off, but it's painful and he's not very kind about it."
"Maybe he's just trying to push you," Mary suggests. "Perhaps it will help you in the long run."
He finally takes a glance out the window, but his eyes soon return to Mary. "Maybe."
"You're not going to see the results you want if you don't put effort into your rehabilitation," Mary warns. She hates nagging at him but he needs to hear this and he seems to be refusing it.
"Well I don't have all that much hope it'll work out in my favor," Matthew responds.
The chauffeur pulls off to the side of the road and turns back towards Mary. "There's a path right here out to the beach, ma'am. I don't think I can drive any closer."
"Thank you," Mary says. "Matthew, are you… ready?"
"Sure," he replies. "Ready to stop being haunted."
Mary sighs. "I hope this helps, otherwise we might get a chewing out from Isobel with no plausible defense."
Matthew took his crutches and accepted the chauffeur's hand to carefully step out of the car. Mary came around on the other side and stood beside him.
"Can you show me what you've been doing?" she asks, putting a hand on his arm as he steadies himself.
Matthew frowns and looks around the empty road. "Is this really the right place?"
"We're just going to walk up this path; if you show me now, when your mother inevitably interrogates you, I'll tell her I saw and that you're doing just fine."
Matthew frowns and shifts his weight as they start up the path to the beach. He grimaces as he puts weight on his bad leg and steps forward, then pulling forward with his other leg. His steps are slow and painful, but he continues on, and Mary smiles as he does.
"You're doing so much better!" she says.
Matthew is panting by the time they reach the top of the path. "I don't feel it, but I'm glad you think so." He stops, his eyes catching sight of the ocean for the first time. He shudders, and Mary puts an arm around him to make sure he stays upright.
"Are you alright?" Mary asks.
He doesn't respond for a few seconds, but eventually nods. "Yes. Yes, I needed to see this." He places his crutches, ready to move himself forward, but they sink in the sand. "I don't suppose it'll be too easy to move any closer…"
Mary frowns. "Are you warm enough? We can sit out here for a while if you'd like, but if it's too cold…"
"No, I want to stay out here," he says stubbornly. "I lived outside for four years, a little cold can't bother me."
Mary begins to unfold a blanket she brought in the car for them to sit on top of. "That is fair, although you also recently recovered from a serious infection, so you cannot neglect your health in favor of stubbornness."
Matthew rolls his eyes as he moves slowly toward the blanket and gingerly sits down, accepting Mary's proffered hand with a reluctant sigh. Once he is seated, he seems to relax. He holds out his hand, running it through the sand.
He stares out, silent and unmoving, only running his hand across the sand beside him. Mary is slightly unnerved, but she says nothing. He will talk when he is ready to.
Eventually, he does.
"You know, lately I've felt like I've been walking on this," he says, tossing a handful of sand away from him. "Like the sands have been shifting for me, in so many aspects of my life, and I know you're trying to help me find stability and I'm so grateful for that, but sometimes it just seems impossible to find."
Mary turns her head to look at him. "The war is over now. Everything will settle down. Even your mind."
"At some point, we have to go back. To Downton. Don't we?"
Mary takes his hand in hers. "Yes. We do. But don't feel like we have to until you're ready."
"Will I ever be ready? At some point I think I'll have to dive in, or else I'll never be brave enough to go back."
Her thumb moves in circles over the back of his hand. "And if that's what you have to do, that's what we'll do. I'll be there for you. I'm afraid if we go back, however, it will be difficult for me to get away with being in your room."
Matthew laughs, his humor strained but genuine. "Now that will be unfortunate," he says.
"Honestly, I'm not sure I want to go back either."
"Because of that?" Matthew asks.
She turns away from him, closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath. "No, because… I've been hiding. Hiding from real life, hiding from my scandal."
"Oh." He has forgotten entirely about her scandal, with his own self-absorbed thoughts lately. He forgot that she too has a struggle that she has come here to escape. "Have you heard about any of the reaction to that?"
Mary presses her lips together, still refusing to look at him. "Sybil's told me a few things. I suspect she's shielding me from the brunt of it though. So who knows what I'll face when I go back."
"If it makes you feel any better, I'll be there with you, to help you face it. As much as I can. After all, it's the least I can do after everything you've done for me."
She finally turns back to him, forcing a smile. "Thank you." She pauses, her mouth slightly open, then looks at the ocean again. "You're making it sound like you want to go back."
"I want to return to normalcy eventually. And that means going back."
"When?"
He frowns. "It's almost Christmas… I don't know if I can handle being back there for all that, but also I don't want you to miss out on anything with your family."
"I would rather be here, with you, if this is where you want to be for that," Mary says.
His eyes widen. "Really? Well… I guess, then perhaps we should go back sometime after the new year. For a fresh start."
"A fresh start. I like that," Mary says. She gazes at the crashing waves, remembering why they are here. "Is this helping you? To see the ocean?"
Matthew smiles. "It's nice. It's not violent in the way I remembered. It's peaceful, in a way. But even better, I'm out here with you. That's what really helps."
Mary moves closer to him, her legs stretched out in front of her and her arm resting behind Matthew's back. "Tell me when you get cold and want to go home."
"I suppose we ought to get back soon, as Mother is going to be in quite a state wondering where we've been."
Mary nods. "Is there anything else you need to do here? To stop the nightmares?"
"Part of me wishes I could be in the water… to stand there, and not drown, but I don't think I can manage to get up there. But even this makes me feel much more at peace. To be here, with you. And to be outside. I was outside for so long, it feels so much more natural."
She stands up and offers a hand to help him up. "It's been cold lately, but perhaps if the weather turns on occasion, we can come out more."
"I would like that," he replies, trying to hide a grimace as he stands up carefully, putting some weight on his bad leg. "You know what else we should do? I'd like to go out to the village sometime, before we go home. I think it's something I need to do. I might be ready."
"Of course we can do that," Mary says, as they make their way back toward the path. "We can go out after one of your physio sessions."
Matthew takes one last glance over the berm, back at the ocean. "Someday… I need to go back to France."
"Are you sure?" Mary asks. "Would that not set you off?"
They move towards the waiting car. Matthew accepts the chauffeur's assistance to get into the car, and finally responds. "Probably now. Probably in the future too. But I need to go someday. I think it would help me reconcile…."
"In that case, whenever you feel ready, we'll go back."
Matthew raises an eyebrow. "You'll come with me?"
"If you'll have me," Mary says. "Of course I will."
He turns away from her, but his hand idly finds hers resting on the seat between them, and their fingers interlace. "Of course I'll have you."
Sorry this has once again taken a while, I've unfortunately not been writing as fast as I've been publishing and now I've pretty much caught up to where I've written to... so while I'll try my best to keep updating regularly, life may more easily get in the way. But thanks for sticking with it, I appreciate your support so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and reviews are a lovely way to encourage me to keep writing!