The light was fading and the rain, that pattered rhythmically on the windows of Chris's living room window accompanied by grey and dark blue clouds, made the evening and the night arrive quicker than it would have had the August weather been fine. The rain had been unexpected and if it hadn't showed up then Chris had planned on spending the evening outside in the garden. The nights were becoming longer as the months were reaching the latter half of the summer season, the harvest season would be upon them any day now. With that time came an anniversary, one that he both wanted to think about and avoid at the same time. It would be almost a year now (maybe eleven months and so many days but close enough) since he first came to Downton for Thomas. He never really knew what he intended to do that day. He was certainly never intending on staying, but Thomas, being someone who's kindness is criminally underrated, was very insistent on helping him out. So after some trouble with Richard Ellis, he eventually found himself not only staying but employed by Richard. Perhaps it was not the wisest idea to stay, but he did and he was settled in a palace where he had an unusual amount of allies.
Chris pulled another box out of a cupboard and lifted it onto the table by the window. He had taken the opportunity to do a few jobs around the cottage that he had been meaning to get around too for a while. The last was clearing out a few boxes of things he had put away in storage. He didn't have much to show for his old life, pre-arrest in York, but anything he did have was most likely in these few boxes. Most of it was junk to be honest. Meaningless things he didn't really know why he still had. He stopped rummaging through these boxes to put the light on. It was then that he listened. It was so quiet. Nothing really to make a sound but the rain on the window. Sometimes it was peaceful but other times he longed for some other sound to remind him that he was not the only one on this planet, because at times like these, it certainly felt like it. Only a few miles along the road he would find plenty of company. Thomas would likely still be at Downton Abbey now, finishing up for the evening. Richard would probably be there with him and the others who they called friends. He could join them, he was always made to feel welcome, but he sometimes felt like he was intruding, like he was borrowing friends. He was sure they wouldn't see it that way but was it so wrong wanting someone who was just only for you? No, nothing wrong with that. But it's definitely pretty unlikely.
Chris was about to call it a night when he reached into the bottom of the box and felt an all too familiar shape of something he forgot he still had. He hadn't been looking at what he was reaching for as he was drinking down the last of his tea at the same time. He didn't need to look to see what it was. He knew by the feel of it. He put his cup down and slowly pulled the object out for the box, hesitant to see it again. It was a revolver, one that anyone who served in the war would recognise. These were standard issue. He had his for many years after the war was over but never saw it again after he got out of prison. He held it up to the light. The metal, that was cold when he first picked it up, was now uncomfortably warm. Warm where his hand covered it, but cold in the areas that remained untouched. This one was identical to his, but it did not belong to him. "Stolen goods," he said to himself looking at it. He remembered that time after he got out. The year where he didn't know what he was doing or going to do. Michael had warned him against doing it. He had told him he was being stupid, that it wasn't worth the risk of getting arrested again. Michael was right, but he hadn't listened. He had been blinded by a bitter need for revenge to those who took everything from him. He had taken this from the house of one of those who had hurt him. He never intended to kill anyone with it. He could have. He was a damn good shot. He had proved that last July at the summer fete. Perhaps the owner of the gun should be grateful the war happened, I swore I'd never kill again after that. Not even those who had it coming...
York, November 1930...
He had been standing across the street from the house for a while now. There was a bitter breeze blowing under a clear night's sky. The freezing air was biting against his skin. The ground was dry but beginning to sparkle in the moonlight and street lights as a frost began to form and any isolated patches of water were now covered in ice. He would have preferred to do this on a cloudy or foggy night where it would be easier to blend into the night, but he had been watching and waiting for some time now and he didn't want to miss his opportunity. It was a nice-ish neighborhood. Not grand but neat and respectable. This was the last one on his list. That made it sound worse than it was. He wasn't some serial killer who had a list of targets he was ticking off as he killed them or anything. No, his list was one of those who he needed to get revenge on. He could kill them he supposed, but he had killed too many people and he never wanted to do that again. Besides, what would that make him? Worse than them, that's what. Despite the fact that he has ended the lives of so many, he was no murderer. Not in the eyes of the law anyway. War was a funny thing in that way. You would kill so many, sometimes you would see their faces, and often you wouldn't. His job was to kill from a distance back then, he was the best shot in the regiment so he picked off those who never saw their killer, one by one, from a distance. But in a war, if you killed you were given a medal. You were called a hero. If he did the same thing now, the only thing he would get was the rope or a lengthy prison sentence at best. But in both circumstances the result was the same. People died who shouldn't have.
Chris shook his head out of his thoughts. He won't be killing anyone. He just wanted the satisfaction that he could invade these people's lives without permission and take something from them, just as they had taken three years of his life from him. He had broken into two houses so far and this was the last. Michael kept telling him that he should stop being so foolhardy and pushing his luck. But he turned out to be rather good at this. No one had seen him, no one had suspected him and the things he stole he no longer had on him. First it had been the prison governor. That had been the hardest as he had a large house with staff so a lot of people around. A lovely ornate letter knife was now missing from his house. He never took anything that was on show, and he only ever took one thing. It was easier to get away with it then. People would suspect it just went missing as long as he left no trace. The second had been one of the prison guards. The one who thought it was fun to pin him against a wall and give him a good kicking. He had picked the lock of their back door and taken a delicate looking necklace that had been left on the table. It was not diamond but cut glass but pretty enough and after selling it on (there were plenty of people willing to buy stolen goods it seemed) he had enough to keep him out of the winter weather for a while.
This was the third. The other guard who had just stood there watching his worst beating in his cell he received. He had watched with an evil expression of enjoyment on his face. The fact that he just stood there, was almost worse than if he had joined in. Chris had been watching the house for a while now. He had been waiting for the lights to go out and then more still in case they were still awake. He had left it a few hours now and so decided to make his move. They were all asleep, blissfully unaware of his plans. Some locks were easier than others but he had figured out the general technique by now and as long as the key wasn't left in the lock on the other side of the door, it was easy enough. The door clicked open and he held it and waited to make sure there were no dogs on the other side to alert the people asleep upstairs. Satisfied with the silence, he entered. He had put gloves on so as to leave no fingerprints anywhere and tied a couple of rags over the bottom of his shoes to muffle the sound and to leave no footprints. He was going to be quick. With his heart racing he looked around the darkened kitchen and living room. This man had a family. There was a child's teddy bear on the floor and a family photo on the dresser. They looked like the perfect family. Chris wondered if the man's wife and child knew how much he enjoyed violence and cruelty? 'Bet they think he's perfect, honourable. He's not,' Chris thought. He gently pulled open one of the wooden draws in the dresser. Not much of value in there, just envelopes and paper. The other contained plates and cutlery. There was a draw right at the top with a lock on it. Chris managed to get the lock to click open and he pulled the draw out and reached inside. To be honest he only expected to find some jewelry or maybe important documents, he did not expect his hand to fall onto several guns. There were four in total. 'How much weaponry does this man need?' Chris thought. 'Some were old, maybe he collected them?' He picked one out and recognised it as a copy of the one he had during the war. It shone in the moonlight coming through the window outside. 'This will do nicely,' he whispered as he took it carefully from the drawer and slid it behind his belt, checking it wasn't loaded first of course. He locked the draw again, checked nothing was out of place and left.
As Chris walked at a casual pace down the street away from the house, he decided that he was not going to sell this. It might come in handy one day.
...
Chris blinked out of his memories as he held the revolver in his hands still. He had thought it would have come in handy as protection back then. He only had himself to look out for him back then. He thankfully never needed it. He wondered if any of those he stole from ever suspected the items were stolen or if they ever thought it was him. Probably not, considering I'm here and they haven't come after me, he thought. It was a silly and stupid thing to do thinking about it. It made him feel better at the time, as he was given an element of control over the people he was so powerless against. He never wanted to be a thief though. He didn't want a lot of things and the things he did want he couldn't have. He didn't know what to do with the revolver now. He could throw it in the river, bury it in the woods, but something told him to hang onto it. It was unloaded at the moment, though he had bullets in the box too. He decided to put them all back in the box he found them in, pile a load of other things on top of them and push them to the back of the cupboard. "There," he said, shutting the door. "Out of sight, out of mind." Never that simple though is it?
...
Richard stepped neatly over several large puddles that were forming in the backyard at Downton. It was twilight but the rain made it feel darker. He had decided to walk up to Downton after eating dinner to meet Thomas. His intentions were not just so that he could see him (although that was a primary reason still), but also because neither of them had expected it to rain when Thomas left that morning. As a result, Thomas was without a decent coat and umbrella, the latter being possible as although it was raining there was hardly a breath of wind. An umbrella in the wind was unhelpful at best and a pain at worst. Therefore, Richard decided to bring both of the items up with him, to save his partner from getting wet on his way home.
Richard shook the rain off the umbrella before stepping inside and removing his own coat. It was still summer and normally too warm for such things but the rain had a cooling effect. It was rather quiet downstairs. He wandered along to the servants hall where he saw only Phyllis, who was reading something at the large table, Stephen and Charlotte, who were sitting opposite each other at the other end of the table with a chess board in between them, and Thomas, who was exactly where Richard thought he would be. Thomas was in the rocking chair that had become his over the years as he was always sitting in it more than most people. "Hello Mr Ellis," Phyllis said.
"Good evening Miss Baxter, " Richard greeted her. "I just thought I'd pop up here. Mr Barrow forgot his coat and umbrella and he will be needing it for the walk home," he added as he smiled at Thomas as he spoke.
"You didn't need to do that," Thomas said, as Richard put the coat over the back of one of the chairs and sat in another closer to Thomas.
"I think I did Mr Barrow, I can't have you come home dripping wet all over the floor can I?" Richard grinned. Phyllis went back to her reading. It was obvious to her that Richard's reason for walking all the way in the rain was not just because of the umbrella being left behind. She left them too it. Stephen and Charlotte hadn't looked up at all when Richard walked in.
"I'm sorry you didn't get any greeting from those two," Thomas said looking at the footman and the maid with the chess board. "I doubt they even know I'm talking about them right now. It's a rematch of a rematch apparently."
"Oh I see! Important stuff then. I wouldn't want to interrupt," Richard said.
"I can't let her beat me again Mr Ellis," Stephen said, who apparently had been listening after all.
"You better not get distracted then," Charlotte said. "If you don't win this game then I win overall."
"Thought maybe we could make it best of five?" Stephen asked.
"Sure," Charlotte agreed. "I don't mind beating you a few more times!" She added confidently.
Richard and Thomas chuckled. "How long do these games go on for then?" Richard asked Thomas.
"Oh a while. It has become almost a regular routine to have them playing this every evening," Thomas explained. "If I didn't tell them to leave it for a night I bet you anything they'd still be down here the next morning playing." It was true, Thomas thought. Even when Daniel came over sometimes, Stephen would not be distracted from the game. Daniel was fine with that though, Thomas reckoned he was quite happy sitting there watching Stephen and Charlotte as it meant having time in Stephen's company.
"We should have a board game evening sometime I think, we could invite Chris over. What do you think?" Richard asked.
"Yeah that would be nice sometime," Thomas agreed. He had noticed that Chris had been looking a bit down recently and he reckoned that Richard had noticed the same thing. Thomas had hoped that after Chris's attack last month, that he had turned a corner and his friendship with Richard and himself had grown enough to combat the obvious longing for companionship that Chris had. He had hoped that when Chris's friend Michael came to visit last week unexpectedly, that Chris might have felt a bit better after. He did for a few days, but then Michael left and that feeling left him it seemed. It was almost a year since Chris first came to Downton to see him. Almost a year since that time Chris had kissed him and Thomas had to push him away because of Richard. They had all moved forward a lot since then. Richard and Chris were good friends and colleagues now. But Thomas got it. He knew how it felt. He had good friends in the people at Downton Abbey for years, more than he deserved, but no amount of friendship can ever equal the love and devotion of one person who wants to spend the rest of their life with you.
Thomas stood up and stretched. Without saying anything, but not without giving Richard a look that Richard would understand, he walked off in the direction of his office. Richard followed as Thomas expected. When they were both in the office with the door closed, Thomas gently pulled Richard close to him, his hands on Richard's waist, and kissed him tenderly in the dim light of the room. "Any particular reason for this Mr Barrow?" Richard asked.
"I love you," Thomas said, before they kissed again. "I was just reminded of a few thoughts, that's all."
"Shall we go home?" Richard asked. "I told Wilde we wouldn't be too long."
"Sure our cat can wait a bit," Thomas said, reluctant to leave Richard's embrace.
Richard smiled. "Thomas-"
"I know, I'll say goodnight to the other's and then we can go," Thomas said. They both left the office after that, Thomas locking the door behind him. "We'll be off then," he said to the others in the servants hall.
"Have a nice evening," Phyllis said. "I'll go up myself soon."
At the far end of the table, Stephen was packing away the chess board. "Goodnight Mr Barrow, Mr Ellis," he said.
"Who won then Stephen?" Richard asked.
"Charlotte again. She's gone upstairs now. I'll try again tomorrow," Stephen said.
"Good luck with that," Richard said.
"Thanks, I'll need it," Stephen said. He didn't mind losing too much, of course he preferred to win, but he and Charlotte were friends and he valued that more.
Suddenly though there was a heavy sounding knock at the door. Everyone looked at each other. It was late and they were not expecting anyone. Thomas silently agreed that he should go and see who it was. Part of him wondered if it was Stephen's boyfriend Daniel. Daniel, Stephen and himself had an agreement that allowed Daniel to see Stephen here privately at night, but only after everyone else had either gone upstairs to bed or gone home. Thomas was mentally preparing to tell Daniel it was too early and that he should be more careful to not take their agreement for granted when he opened the back door. However he was stopped in his tracks as it was not Daniel who was standing in the dark at the door.
The man standing at the door was level to Thomas in height, maybe a bit taller considering he was not standing on the small step outside the door. He couldn't make out many features at first as the lamp outside the door was casting too many shadows over the man's face. But then the man took off his hat to reveal an untidy mop of blonde hair, messy from being damp from the rain, although it looked pretty untamable anyway. The man had a less than smart appearance, although perhaps even that description was being generous. He was not somebody who would be well suited to working in service. Thomas could tell that from one look at him. His shirt was open at the neck with a few buttons undone as well as being creased and damp from the rain, his coat he had over him was only covering his back and shoulders. He could have done it up, but it seemed as though he couldn't be bothered or that he didn't mind the rain too much. The man though had a kind face, shown by laughter lines around his eyes, along with the frown lines on his brow that came with age and experiences. His blue eyes seemed to light up as he looked at Thomas, which Thomas didn't understand because as far as he was aware they had never met before. Having said that though, there was a nagging feeling in the back of Thomas's mind telling him that he knows those eyes. Eyes don't age. "Can I help you?" Thomas asked formally.
The man smiled at him. "So you don't recognise me then? It's okay, I suppose you wouldn't be expected too. It has been a few decades after all," the blonde haired man said.
Thomas was taken aback. "No, should I?" he asked. Thomas looks at the man again. Something is telling me I know you, but how I'm not sure? You seem familiar, but from another time in my life. Thomas could hear Richard's feet shuffle on the floor as he stood down the hall. Richard watched the curious exchange at the door between Thomas and this stranger with caution. He hung back but felt himself ready to step forward if Thomas needed him too.
"You should, but like I said it's okay. It had been many years since we last saw each other, since we knew each other. We've both grown up a lot."
Not just a passing acquaintance then? We 'knew' each other? Thomas thought. We've both grown up a lot? Thomas thought of the man's every word. Then he looked the man in the eye again and it suddenly all came together. Thomas's eyes widened in realisation. No, it can't be, it can't be you. Can it? Only one way to find out. "David?" Thomas asked.
Thomas saw how he was right by the way the man smiled and seemed to relax. "Hello Tommy," he said.
Note: So, as some of you know I had my first covid vaccine this week and I wasn't sure if I would be okay to write. I wasn't at first, but the last couple of days I've been better so here we are! Ta Dah! Sorry XD- I've been really excited about starting this story in particular and so I wasn't gonna let a vaccine's side effects stop me. Hope you enjoy this one!