It had been years since Sybil Branson had returned to Downton. Not completely of her own volition. Many nurses had still been needed, hospitals had almost been overflowing with soldiers. She helped where she was needed.

She looked over the towering castle of limestone, it's solid brick facade. It had been through many wars, and many threats of financial woe, withheld so many memories of tears of happiness and sorrow, but still it stood. If it could stand through all that, it could stand through everything. It would be there till the end of time.

Though it hadn't changed on the outside, everything would have changed. She had changed. Everyone had. She was Sybil Evans now. She waddled up to the door, her hand on her stomach, as if to sooth the growing baby within. She had to put in her notice, once the baby had start showing, at almost four months. She wanted to stay on through the pregnancy After the baby was born, she could hire a nanny, and continue her schooling to become a doctor. Her husband Killian was behind her a hundred percent, though he hadn't been quite at first. He loved that she was opinionated and outspoken, innovated, though that he had acted like it agitated him in the beginning, when they had first met. She had though he was just trying not to get close. And she had been right.

He wasn't the easiest to get on with and was always serious when she had met him. They had always butt heads and could not stand each other at first, disputing which would be the best treatment for a patient. That changed when part of their hospital had been bombed. She guessed being in a life and death situation could leave a person with a change of heart. She had found out the explanation behind his behavior. He had never had any luck with women. When she met him, his fiancé had called off the wedding, just about a year before to marry another man. Dorothy and Killian had been lifelong childhood sweethearts. That would destroy just about anyone. It was still no excuse for how he had treated her and most of the staff. He was determined to make up for it, though she convinced him he already had by surviving. The night their hospital had been bombed; she had nearly lost him. She had given him her blood. They were connected in more ways then one.

Being under pressure of war, trying to save many people as you can, and failing can take a toll on a person. Not being able to be close to someone through that hell, for Doctors and nurses were at risk just as any soldier.

But after being through it all together, their future seemed bright. He was still serious and had a hard edge about him around other people but with her it was different. She was the only one who could make him laugh or smile. She just hoped he could make it home in time, so they could be a family for a little while.

"We've come a very long way, baby. I want you to meet some people. You'll adore the lot of them, though things can get a bit crazy. But you'll like you're Uncle Matthew the best. Shh, She quieted him as she felt him move a little under the heat of her hand. She had a strong feeling that it was a boy. "It'll be our little secret."

It felt like forever till someone came to the door. She could feel the pressure on her bladder, lately it had been babies favorite resting spot, or he was trying to get attention. He was going to be a mama's boy for sure. Morrison welcomed her in as she greeted him, glad that she was still with them. He must be getting up there in years, not much younger than her aunt and Uncle. He had been a widower with a young boy when he had started out. In truth, his wife had left him. He had entrusted that secret to no one else but the family.

George was the first one to great her. Time stood still like a picture frame. He looked almost the exact same, apart from his limp and his use of a cane, you'd never know that he was missing a leg.

"Look at you, you're as big as a house!" He said as he approached her.

"Is that all you have to say to your dear cousin, whom you haven't seen in three years? I'm pregnant!" She had wanted it to be a surprise and had left any mention of it out of her letters. Four months ago, she didn't want to jinx it.

"So is my wife. When are you...?" He motioned toward her. Men could be ecstatic about a woman being pregnant but the same time embarrassed and amazed, as if carrying and growing a human being was some sort of accomplishment. Killian had been fascinated, even though he was a doctor and knew the facts of life. It was priceless to see the expression George wore on his face, like he couldn't have imagined it.

"March." She laughed.

"April. They'll arrive just about the same time then!"

She didn't ask how he was doing or how his leg was. He seemed to be taking it in stride, from what she heard last from him last, his letters had sounded a bit gloomy. Of course, he was happier, he was married to her best friend and about to be a father! Their children would grow up together!

She and George had always thought of each other as siblings. Olivia was her honorary sister. And she and Olivia were going to be mother's at the same time!

Noah was already four months and Mattie was a year old, but that wouldn't make much of a difference. She had heard a lot about them, what personality's they had. It must be fascinating to watch your baby grown into their own person.

Mattie was very talkative, even if it was a few words, most of it babble. Her grandfather Matthew was her favorite person at the moment and who could blame her.

He had been like a second father to Sybil. She had never had a mother figure in her life. She supposed she would never know what it would be like to have one. One thing she knew for sure, she'd be the best mother she could to her son. That space would never be filled but Uncle Matthew had taken up some of that space in her life. Her two fathers, better than one. She couldn't wait to tell Uncle Matthew the news. Two grandchildren, about to have a third, and now a great-nephew!

Downton would be full of Crawley children, as it should be. She'd always make sure that they would get to spend time together, that she'd get to come down often with the baby. It was impossible to imagine that Uncle Matthew had nearly died. She would make up for the lost time as much as she could.

Olivia came down the stairs, her hand on the small of her back. She tried to rush over to Sybie. The two young woman could barely get their arms around each other.

"There is no way, I'm missing out on this." Aunt Mary descended the stairs. Sybil saw her more as an Auntie. She would be quite jealous or hurt if she told her Aunt the way she felt about Uncle Matthew. She didn't want to hurt Uncle Bertie's feelings either. She was close to Uncle Matthew. They had far more in common.

Mary could only hug her niece from the side. She looked so much like her mother except for the dent in her chin, the same Josephine has. Which side of the family had that come from? And Tom's eyes. They were blue like her sister's but his were a different shade, more of a greyish color.

She heard stories of her mother, what kind of person she was. She had heard from many people that she was brave and fierce, wasn't afraid to show her opinion. Sybie wouldn't exactly count herself a brave, not fully. The first time she had assisted tending a patient's wound, she had nearly fainted.

Her father had described her as the brightest star in the sky. Before her mother had left to be a nurse in the first Great War, they had gone for a picnic in the Yorkshire fields, under the stars. When Sybie had been five or six, her father had laid out the spread, and pointed out a star.

"Just find the brightest one in the sky, and she's not that far behind it."

Aunt Mary would sometimes attend their little picnic's. She and Uncle Matthew would have their own little ones inside, on rainy days. He couldn't get down on the ground as easily and he would have to have someone help him up, if there wasn't anything to grab on to. Yet she remembered him on the floor with them when they were young children.

She'd not heard many stories from him. She knew her mother helped nurse his injuries he had received in the first war, and she had taken care of him, only what a little girl's mind could comprehend.

"You were with mama when she died?" She had asked him one day. She frequently would ask him about her throughout her childhood, when she would forget.

"A lot of people were with her. She wasn't alone."

He would never really say much else. He would shy away from that particular topic.

Looking back at it now, she could say that it was as if he had felt guilty. The little girl hadn't noticed, not knowing such adult feelings. She then had climbed up on his lap, playing with the pocket watch on it's chain, attached to his waist coat. It had such pretty scribblings on it which she could not yet read.

"It was a gift from a friend. He gave it to me before he died."

"Who are you going to give it to?" She inclined her head up at him. The corners of his mouth were turned into a frown. Had she said something wrong? Her father was calling for her then. Uncle Matthew held onto her arm as she slid down from his lap.

And one day she had told her, that it wasn't her fault any more than it was his. He had believed that for a long time. He had felt that he was guilty. He wouldn't want me to do the same.

"You have us miss out on your wedding." Aunt Mary continued.

"I was planning on having a party before the little one arrives."

"Crawley's can't make an entrance without making any fanfare." Andy appeared around the corner. He had changed the most out of all of them. He was broader around the soldiers. Probably from all that army training. He had filled out nicely, but he still had remnants of the lanky teenager he had once been, with his long spindly legs.

"Or Branson's." Tom came through the door, juggling luggage. Morrison took them from him. "Do you think I'd let her come all this way by herself?" He teased. "All the way from Boston no less!"

It was like a small family reunion gathered in the foyer. The only person missing was Uncle Matthew. Sybil tried to see around them all to see if he was coming.

"Are you really going to be moving to Boston?" Carrie sounded upset at the thought, that her cousin's visit would be short, only to move on the other side of the ocean, after two long years. "We thought Jo was going to live in America. But Nick found a theatre in London."

"He's really enjoying it." Jo said.

"Killian's looking for a practice near London. Once he finishes his last tour." There was one follow up patient, a young sergeant he had wanted to see through to recovery.

Kate offered to put in a good word at the hospital where she used to work.

"It keeps him busy. We'll have a lot of time on our hands with the children." Jo continued. "But there's a lot of young girls in the village that can help out. I won't be back to teaching for a while. If I decide to get back to it at all."

"And they'll have their other Aunt and Uncle." Kate chimed in, putting an emphasis on it as to make sure they were not left out, although that wasn't in the realm of possibility.

"You'll have all the hands you'll need." Andy replied. He liked this new existence as an Uncle. Another reason to stop drinking. Perhaps this wasn't a good time to mention he was thinking of law school?

The young women started to all talk at once. Mary noticed that her niece was growing anxious and uncomfortable.

"Girls, I'm sure that your cousin and Uncle Tom won't to get settled."

"It's no trouble at all. All the cousins getting together is a rare variety. Where's Uncle Matthew?"

"He'll be down shortly." Her Aunt said, reassuringly, that she didn't need to worry. "Is there anything that you need?"

"Not anything I would want anyone to help me with. I really need to use the loo." They all smiled and laughed.

She could still hear it as she ascended to the top of the stairs, and they were no longer in view. As if everything could just go back to normal. Could it really? She really did need to go use the loo. After she was done, she snuck off to her uncle's room.

She had always had happy memories with him.

Once she had gone to the theatre with him and after went out for dinner. Aunt Mary hadn't felt like going with us that day, so we went just the two of us. They had many interests in common, history being one. He loved to share his father's old medical books with her. Her aspiration came more from that than her the heroine tales of her mother's nursing days. They were silent the rest of the evening.

When she went up to check how he was doing the started talking about her. He rarely ever did. Now they talked at length about her mother.

March 1947

Sybie went into labor in the early hours of the morning. She was staying at Dowton, wanting to give birth at the abbey. Her father was anxious and uncertain, the fear of the memory of his losing his young wife. Of course, Sybie had to go into the medical aspect that medicine had advanced in the last thirty years. It did somewhat calm him. She was planning to stay until a few months after the baby was born. Killian wanted to deliver his child himself, but the midwife said it would be unorthodox, a father's place was to wait outside the room. Someday that will change, he had grumbled. Matthew smiled at the interaction.

As the rest of the family waiting in the Great Hall, Matthew and George went into the library. He wanted to talk to his son. Lately he had noticed the quietness between him and Olivia. He asked him about it, as George shut the door behind them.

"Is everything going alright?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" He smiled but he knew his father could see through it.

"I mean with you and Olivia."

"Just anxious about becoming new parents."

"You can tell me. I'll understand."

There was no way he was going to let his father fix his marriage. He had other things he needed to deal with before the baby was born. "No, you won't!"

Matthew seemed momentarily surprised at his sudden outburst.

"Sorry. When I get frustrated..."

"I know." They were more alike in one way that George had cared to admit. "my marriage between me and your mother was never perfect."

"I told Olivia about Sophia." George suddenly blurted out. He had to get it out in the open. And he could tell no one else. He certainly wouldn't want to tell him mother. He didn't know why he wanted to confide in his father, he just had this thing about him, that made you want to. He felt his father was the most judgmental person, most religious people were, but he really wasn't like that, George rationalized. Still, he couldn't help but study his father's face. His expression was passive. The war had made it easy for him to hide things. George wished it was that way for him.

As his son told him that he had been intimate with this woman, he recalled the day that Mary had told him about Pamuk. The difference was that George loved this woman.

"I think I might already be a father. Before we were captured, we suspected." His voice was small and low.

Why do his children think he'd be disappointed in them when they made a mistake? Carrie had a child by a different father, a married man, at barely seventeen. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together but no one else had figured it out and was determined to keep it that way. Mary didn't know that he knew. Then there was Andy and his drinking. He hadn't quit completely but he had been consuming far less, as inclined by his improved behavior. And then there was Josephine, her female lovers. Charlotte and then Annie. He had warned Josephine to stay away from that woman. Annie Carrington was nothing but caring. She had been foul and vile, playing with his daughter's emotions. Fate had intervened, not a fate he'd wish on anyone, when her plane had crashed. She was still recovering in the countryside in Scotland, she had family there.

He accepted his daughter but didn't understand it. He was worried and frightened for her, what the scandal would do to her. It was good that she had moved to America. He had told her that he had always known she was different and wouldn't, couldn't despise her, repeating what he had said to her mother all those years ago. His effort to show her that he wasn't disappointed seemed to have been in vain.

He felt that it had but a wedge between him and his eldest daughter, that he hadn't trusted her to make the wise decision on her own. She had rebuffed the young woman's advances at first, some things where then reciprocated but it all stopped when she had tried to come between her marriage.

And his dear Katie, he couldn't think of any mistake she had made, or she just hadn't confided in him.

His father's expression remained unchanged. Say something will you? George wanted to shout, shake him, do something, at least be given a hint of what was going on in his mind. Tell me what a failure I am. "Well, aren't you going to say something?"

"I see." Matthew simply said.

That's all? He hadn't know what to expect. Maybe some advice on what to do? Would his father insist that he find her. Make things right, somehow, if it were true? But instead, nothing. "I can't look for her now. If she is..."

"That's your child. You should know..." There was a possible grandchild out there. He couldn't believe that George would be willing to abandon it. The could come up with a decision...no, he had to respect George's wishes. This would up heave their family no matter what was decided.

"It'll ruin what I have with Olivia." What was left of it. At least he could salvage it if she didn't know. "She doesn't know that part of it. I did tell her about our relationship. She said she understood. We weren't together then but..." A sadness and longing shone in his son's eyes, "she thinks I don't love her. That can't be further from the truth. I do love her."

"But are you in love with her?"

"Yes." George surprised himself. He supposed he had for longer than he had known.

"Then tell her."

"She won't believe me."

"Then keep telling her." He put his hand on his son's and they both beamed brightly. "Whatever you do...whatever mistakes that you make, I will never be disappointed in you, maybe for a while, but I'm you're father. That goes for all of you. You're my children."

The door opened. Mary announced the new arrival. "She's had the baby!"

"Boy or a girl?" Matthew asked.

"Killian and Tom are with her now. They won't let anyone else up for a while." She spoke calmly, not to alarm them. "The doctor said there might be something wrong."

Matthew tried not to let the fear grip him, that the same fate that had befallen her mother would claim her daughter. He knew Tom had to have been thinking it too.

Sybie had given birth to a boy in the early hours of the morning. Gilbert "Gilly" Evans was born a blue baby which meant he had a weak heart. He wasn't expected to live past infancy. But he defied all odds and the past several months he grew and thrived, losing his bluish-grey hue. He was a stickler like his great Uncle Matthew and all the other Crawley's long before him. A genetic predisposition, Tom had a heart murmur that had been misdiagnosed during the first war and had prevented him from joining. The murmur was actually a symptom of a congenital heart disease. Gilly would require before he turns one year old, ideally at around 6 months. Tom was against the surgery, that he was living proof that Gilly did not need it. But it was up to the parents. Gilly was having shortness of breath and it would improve his quality of life.

It was hard for Killian to be around his son because he was around sick people all the time at the hospital in London. He had spent more time at their home there.

She sought her uncle's advice. No one else she really trusted.

A very calm, gentle and patient man who was very generous with his time, love and guidance. He could also be tough but fair and was the one who kept things in line. A true gentleman in every sense of the word whom she respected and loved with all her heart. Her only Uncle she'll ever have. She asked his opinion about whether or not she should go through with surgery against her father's wishes, avoiding bringing up her problems with Killian.

"Only you can decide what you think is right."

It is the best thing in the world to have a niece. The only one he'll ever have. Jay was his nephew, Edith's and Bertie's only son, (he had been lucky that the war had ended before he would come of age, missing it by a year.) but they didn't have a special bond like he did with his niece.

When she was born, I was afraid to hold her at first. Then her sparkling eyes and the most beautiful toothless smile brought tears of joy in my eyes and my heart ached. Not for the loss of her mother, but for pure love.

It had made him anxious to become a father. Their connection was so close, that she could have easily been one of his own.

Now she feared for her own child's life, that was hanging in the balance. He would be here for her if the worst were to happen, like he always was.