A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the patience! Here is the last official chapter of New Normal! I'll be posting the epilogue tomorrow! Until then, I want to thank you for sticking with Tom, Mary, and me for this long! I hope you enjoy the chapter!


New Normal

Chapter Twenty Five

It came as somewhat of a relief to watch 2020 come to a close. Good riddance was one phrase that came to mind among others but Mary felt strangely melancholy when midnight came. "It wasn't such a bad year, was it?" she asked Tom was they walked up the stairs, ready for bed. The children (and Seth, who insisted upon sleeping in Sybbie's room) were already in bed.

Tom paused on the landing. "No," he said with a smile, one that made her heart melt. "No, it wasn't all bad." His hand wrapped around her, settling on her hip.

It was so strange, mused Mary, that a year ago this would have been unthinkable. Perhaps it spoke to the irregularity and strangeness of 2020, but Mary thought back what Tom said, the night they finally confessed how they felt, how it seemed it was inevitable for them to end up with one another.

She had to agree. Everything about being with Tom felt right. He knew her and she him and they were able to anticipate what the other needed and provide support. They worked well as a team and as coparents. Though she had no way of anticipating the future, Mary almost felt confident enough to be certain that things could be this good forever.

Mary didn't have an inkling as to what was going on in his head until they were in bed, cuddled under the mountain of blankets. Crawley House was an old one and not very well insulated. Having someone to share the covers with made a world of difference.

The light from her lamp illuminated the room. Mary was about to ask him if he was ready for her to turn it off when Tom (who had been oddly quiet) said, "There's something I need to tell you."

Those seven words sent a chill up her spine that had nothing to do with the winter. "Goodness. That sounds rather serious," she said as casually as she could, settling down, yet unable to maintain a façade of ease. "Though it's nothing bad, I hope?"

"God, no." Mary let out a sigh of relief. It was just now that she realized how nervous he looked. Her anxiousness was replaced by intrigue. "Far from it."

Mary did her best to remain patient as Tom hesitated, seeming to try to gather up his courage. Finally, he took her hand in his. "You know that you make me very happy, don't you?"

"I certainly try to," Mary said quietly, having an inkling now of what he was about to say.

"Well, you do," Tom assured her, meeting her eyes. Mary was unable to look away, astonished by the pure adoration in his gaze. "I mean that."

"I'm glad."

"And I wanted to start 2021 out right by telling you that I love you."

Mary couldn't believe it... surely she had misheard. But Tom was sitting there, eyes glued to her face, apprehensive and waiting for some sort of reaction. "You do?"

Tom looked slightly less nervous, nodding. "I do. Very much. And I have for some time now." His hand gripped hers, as if to emphasize his point. Mary felt her lips twitch without her own volition, unable to control her smile. "But I've been afraid until now to say anything."

"Why's that?" Mary released one of his hands to stroke his cheek. Had she done something to make him doubt or worry?

A somewhat pained expression crossed his face. Mary wondered if she had said the wrong thing until he said, "Because of Sybil."

It wasn't entirely unexpected. "Oh."

"I was... I was worried that saying it would mean that... that I had somehow forgotten about her and what we had together."

"It doesn't," insisted Mary, feeling the need to reassure him.

"I know that." His voice had dropped to a whisper. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "But at the time, I was still grappling with how I felt and being honest with myself. I hadn't really allowed myself to really move on... and the fact that it was with her sister was all the more difficult for me to face." He squeezed her hand before meeting her eyes. "But I'm done with hiding it. I love you, Mary Crawley." He cracked a smile before adding, "And not just as a best friend."

Mary felt her eyes fill with tears. Knowing she was going to be a blubbering mess, she kissed him. He laughed against her lips before returning it with equal ferocity. There were no words to describe her sheer joy as she let her fingers run through his hair.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," Tom said he pulled away, one hand reaching up to wipe her cheeks.

"Don't worry. These are just because I'm so happy," Mary managed to profess, kissing him again. "Oh, Tom—"

This segued into several silent moments of kissing, holding one another close and smiling against one another's lips. Mary still had a hard time grasping that it was real, half convinced it would be a dream she would wake up from soon... Though this was dispelled when they finally parted, lips swollen but grinning widely.

A contented silence passed over them. "It's the same way for me," she told him, feeling the need to reassure him. "With Matthew. I won't forget him... and I don't ever want to."

Tom nodded. "I think that might be why. Part of why," he amended. "Because I know you understand what it's like for me. And you won't resent her and what she meant to me, because you loved her too and you've gone through what I have." He looked down at their intertwined hands. "But I love you because of who you are. You were my best friend and I always loved spending time with you and I love being with you..." He trailed off, eyes filled with tears as he steadily grew more and more emotional.

Mary kissed him softly, as a way of saying I know and simply held him, happier than she had been in a long time.


It was halfway through breakfast on a Friday morning when Mary felt the beginning pains. It wasn't anything severe, just enough to be noticeable. Mary stilled. No... it couldn't be...

But, Mary quickly realized, it could be. Her due date was only a few days away...

But she wasn't ready yet.

They were ready in all the physical ways. Tom had set the nursery up almost singlehandedly, proudly showing off each new element to her. Their bags were packed and ready. Isobel and Dickie were on standby at a moment's notice, planning on staying with Sybbie, George, and Seth...

But Mary wasn't prepared yet. In her mind she had only abstractly thought about what this would entail. The possibility they would have to face it head on in only a few hours time was a terrifying one. Furthermore, her and Tom still had yet to come a consensus on a name for their daughter. Tom had suggested Josephine as a way to name the baby after her, but Mary didn't want that. She respected and loved him for naming Sybbie after Sybil, but she wanted her daughter to have a name that was just hers— perhaps something similar to someone they loved, but she wasn't about to name her after anyone outright.

So Mary said nothing. She continued eating breakfast with ease, ignoring it to the best of her abilities. She chastised George for sneaking pieces of sausage to Seth and listened as Sybbie enthusiastically started telling them about what they were learning in her science class. She didn't even say a word to Tom as he kissed her cheek before 'going to work'— that is, stepping into the office. "Tell me if you need anything," he told her.

"I will," she promised, feeling a little guilty for not speaking up then. She tried to tell herself that there was no need to stress him out, not when he was already as nervous (if not more) as she was about all of this. She took her place on the sofa, where she no doubt would be for some time.

As she tried to arrange herself into a comfortable position, Seth wandered over to her, tail wagging and laying his face on her knee. She reached out to pet his head but sternly said, "No— you know you aren't allowed on this couch." He have her those eyes as Tom called them, wagging his tail. "Oh, fine." He jumped onto the empty cushion beside Mary, who started petting him.

But throughout the day, the pain grew worse. Mary started timing the lapses between the pains, slowly accepting the fact that she was experiencing contractions and that they were twenty minutes apart. It was going faster than it had with George— which had been quite fast as it was, for a first pregnancy.

Mary was in the middle of typing out a text to Isobel to inform her and Dickie that they may be needed when Tom left the office for some lunch. "How are you?" He asked easily, joining her on the sofa, which Seth had vacated some time ago in favor of food and napping in front of Sybbie's bedroom. His expression quickly darkened. "Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Mary told him with as level a voice as she could manage. "Don't panic," she instructed, recalling the state he had been in when she went into labor with George, "but I'm having contractions, so it seems the twins are on their way."

Tom's eyes widened. "Oh God," he said, eyes already roving over her body as if something was terribly wrong. "How long has it been going on?"

"A while," she admitted. "I didn't want to worry you." She wasn't quite willing to let him know it had been going on all morning.

"Mary," he said, almost disapprovingly, but without any edge. "Why didn't you say?"

"Because you were working and I'm not ready yet!" she burst out, near tears. "But apparently they are, so it doesn't seem as though I have much choice in it."

"Breathe, Mary," Tom said, hands resting on either side of her face, meeting her eyes. "That's it. Try to stay calm, my love."

My love. It was a term of endearment Tom had started using in the past few days that Mary had enjoyed hearing. Something about those words managed to center her, allowing her eyes to fall shut as she inhaled deeply.

"Right," she heard Tom say. "I'll just go up and fetch the bags so we can go to the hospital—"

Her eyes flew open. "It's not that soon yet, Tom. We'll have a while to go... but we should tell Dickie and Isobel first before we abandon the two children we do have."

Tom nodded, less frantic now. "Right. Of course. Sorry."

Mary shook her head. "I think we're both quite anxious this time around... which makes plenty of sense."

"Can I do anything for you?"

"If you just sit here with me for a while, I think that might help." It would do nothing to counteract the periodic pains (which Mary knew would only grow exponentially worse as the day wore on) but it would do wonders for her nerves, knowing that Tom was here.

"I can do that," Tom said, adjusting himself in such a way so she could lean on him. She reclined herself slightly, letting her eyes fall shut.

A few minutes of silence passed, where Tom let his fingers run through her hair and smart concentrating on him and her breathing before that silence was broken. "She still doesn't have a name," Mary reminded him.

"I know." Tom's fingers stilled.

"We need to come up with something," she said, almost desperately.

"We will."

"We don't have much time."

"I know. But we will. Something will occur to us." He angled himself so he could drop a kiss to her forehead.

Mary felt close to tears again. How could he know that? Still, she tried to focus on relaxing. It wouldn't be good for Percy or Baby Girl for her to be so upset...

Tom reluctantly stood up to make lunch for all of them. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Positive," she told him, even though she selfishly wished he could stay... but they needed to eat, especially George and Sybbie. "I think I'll tell Isobel. So they are aware."

"Right. Of course." Tom still seemed a but scattered but otherwise unaffected, which was a good thing. She worried he would be in the same, panicked state he had been when George was born. She knew he must be a wreck right now but she admired him marvelously to being able to hold it together.

MARY: I'm having contractions now, so I expect you and Dickie will be needed tonight to stay with the little ones

ISOBEL: Oh how wonderful! How far apart are they?

MARY: The last one was twenty minutes. They aren't very long either, so it will be sometime. I just wanted to prepare you.

ISOBEL: Of course. Keeping track of things and please try to relax.

Mary managed a small smile. Her and Tom had been uneasy about deciding about who should watch George and Sybbie when she went into labor, but Isobel had insisted. "I was so unfair to you and I want so badly to make it up to you in this way," insisted Isobel. Her and Dickie had been taking every precaution, especially in preparation for this. There had been worry over hurt feelings from Mary's parents, but thankfully Mama and Papa understood why Isobel wanted to help and accepted as someone with medical knowledge, Mary might be comforted by having her nearby.

During lunch, the pain steadily grew worse. She was able to carry on as normal for the most part, excluding a moment where George saw her wince and gave her a confused look. Mary simply plastered on a smile and asked him a question to distract him.

As things progressed, however, it was unavoidable to keep it from them any longer. When Mary's contractions grew closer together, it was clear it was almost time to go to the hospital so they told both the children. George was excited, jumping up and down, which subsequently caused Seth to bark and wag his tail.

"George, darling, please settle down," Mary said wearily as Seth let out another loud woof!

"What are you going to name her?" He asked, paying little attention her request.

"It's a surprise," Tom said quickly. Mary admired him for thinking up the fib so quickly— she didn't know if she couldn't handle them offering up any new suggestions. "Now I need to go upstairs and fetch mine and Mummy's things for when we leave."

"Can I help?" asked George, still enthusiastic.

"Course you can," Tom said with a smile as he walked towards the stairs. He was followed by George and Seth, who both pushed past him and ran the rest of the way up.

Once it was just her and Sybbie left, Mary realized how quiet the young girl was. Her arms were crossed over her chest, expression unreadable. Mary suddenly had a vision of her younger self, wondering if this had been a common sight for Mama and Papa when she had been growing up. "Are you alright?"

Sybbie seemed startled by Mary's question, as if she had been lost in thought, but nodded. Mary still wasn't at ease, though. She seemed far too quiet. "Are you not looking forward to the babies?" asked Mary, worried. "Because it's alright if you are. I wasn't exactly looking forward to having a younger sibling when your Mama was born, but I did come to love her." Mary had been too young to remember Edith's birth, but she had been decidedly unenthusiastic to have another little sister after Mama and Papa had told her and Edith. It wasn't until she met Sybil in the hospital and was allowed to hold her that Mary warmed up to the idea.

"No," answered Sybbie. "I want to meet them. Babies are cute."

"Then what is it? You can tell me." Mary patted the empty seat next to her in the couch.

Sybbie took it hesitantly. Mary was about to ask again when Sybbie abruptly asked, "Are you going to be okay?"

Mary was a little taken aback. "Of course I am. It will hurt for a little while but then I'll be right as rain." She absentmindedly reaches out to stroke Sybbie's hair. It was thin and fine, like Tom's.

"You aren't going to die?"

Mary supposed she should have expected it but she was nevertheless stunned into silence by Sybbie's question. Truthfully, she didn't know how to answer. A few years ago, Mary would have never worried about dying in childbirth; Sybil's death had changed that. There was that small chance, one that Mary didn't want to wave away for fear of tempting fate, but she also wanted to reassure her niece.

"I was perfectly alright when I had George and my doctor says that the babies and I are healthy, so I should be just fine," answered Mary carefully. "Please don't worry about me, darling."

It was just then that a knock came at the door. Mary tried to push herself to her feet, only to find the task impossible with her enormous stomach. "Can you please open the door for me?" she asked Sybbie, who promptly ran to fetch it. Moments later she heard the door open and Isobel and Dickie's voices start filtering in.

"Tom's just upstairs grabbing our things," explained Mary when Isobel helped her off the couch after interrogating Mary about everything. "The guest bedrooms are mostly ready— I'm sorry, but we didn't get a chance to make the beds just yet, but the sheets are in the closet—"

"Oh, Mary, don't worry about that. Dickie and I will manage perfectly well." Isobel have her a reassuring smile. "And if we have any questions about where to find things, we'll ask George and Sybbie."

Mary glanced over Isobel's shoulder, relieved to find Sybbie suitably engaged in regaling Dickie in some story about Seth. "Will you please keep an eye on her? She's terribly worried about something happening to me."

"That's not really a surprise, given the circumstances," Isobel said sadly. "That poor little dear. I'll do what I can."

The sound of feet and paws coming down the stair alerted everyone's attention to George and Seth, the latter of whom beelined to Dickie while wagging his tail. "Daddy said to come tell you that he's getting the toothbrushes and then he'll be down," George informed Mary.

"Thank you, darling. I suppose I'd best start putting on my shoes and coat." It somehow occurred to her just then that it really was happening, that her babies were coming. It was a surreal sensation, as she numbly began slipping on her coat, Sybbie hovering near her all the while like a miniature shadow.

"I think I have everything," Tom said as he met her by the door, balancing the bags with his arms as one hand was digging in his pocket for his keys. "We should be ready to go."

"Are you sure you should be driving, Tom?" asked Isobel.

"Course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because your hands are shaking."

It wasn't until Isobel drew her attention to it that Mary realized she was right. The keys were rattling together, jingling like wind chimes. With his nerves like that, it seemed like a terrible idea to let him drive... and furthermore, Mary didn't want him to. "Darling, perhaps you should let someone else do it."

"Well, you can't drive."

"I know that—"

"I can do it," offered Dickie, injecting his voice into the fray. "I don't mind."

"Perfect. That's settled, then."

"But what about the car?" Tom asked.

"We don't need the car," insisted Mary, meeting his eye. It was one way, she supposed, on ensuring he wouldn't leave and end up in a wreck. "You won't be leaving the hospital anyway, so what difference will it make?"

Tom blinked before finally nodding. "Right. Okay." He moved to hand the keys to Dickie, who suggested they take his and Isobel's car instead.

Saying goodbye to the children was emotional— for Mary, at least. They wouldn't be permitted into the hospital so Mary knew it was some time before she would see them again. Hugging George and saying farewell was hard but somehow it was even worse with Sybbie. She buried her face into Mary's neck and whispered, "I love you, Mum."

Mary had to blink rapidly. "I love you too, Sybbie darling. We'll be home soon."

"Are you okay?" Tom asked as he helped her to the car, able to tell something was amiss.

Maybe if it had been just them, Mary would have told him, but Dickie was right there. "Just fine," she said, squeezing his hand.


However, once they reached the hospital, it was harder to pretend everything was fine— for both of them. Tom kept asking nurses questions if Mary was alright, leading one to chuckle and ask if this was these were their first children.

"Tom, please stop pacing," she requested as he rose from his chair for the umpteenth time to circle her bed like a shark.

"Sorry," Tom said, forcing himself back into his chair. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm about to give birth," Mary replied, a little more snappy than she intended. "It isn't exactly pleasant."

"I know. I'm sorry." Mary instantly felt guilty, noting the mournful look in his eyes. "I just feel so useless."

"Let's see if you'll be saying that when I delegate you to diaper duty," Mary said, aiming at humor.

Tom's lips twitched but he still didn't smile. "I just hate seeing you in pain," he told her lowly.

"I know you do. Just keep talking to me. It will distract me."

"Okay."

Mary squeezed his hand tightly, and it wasn't because of any pain. "We still don't have a name," she murmured to him. Mary found herself increasingly worried that she wouldn't have one until after she was born...

"I know. We'll think of something." Tom paused before asking, "How do you like the name Olivia?"

Mary shook her head. "I had a class in uni with a girl called Olivia. She was horrid."

Tom let out a chuckle. "Why is it you seem to know so many horrid people with names I suggest?" he teased.

Mary was about to respond when suddenly she was led down a train of thought—

Which was promptly interrupted as a nurse stepped into the room to check on her and see how far she was dilated.

When it finally happened, it wasn't at all how Mary had ever envisioned it— in a hospital with Tom standing beside her, medical masks on both their faces and she pushed, in unbearable pain. God, she had forgotten how horrible this was— "One more, Mary," urged the doctor.

"You can do it, love," urged Tom as she squeezed his hand with the same amount of force a boa constrictor would its prey. A second later, she heard a cry pierce the air.

Mary allowed herself to collapse against the pillows with a smile. She had done it... "Here's the baby boy. Would you like to hold him, Tom?"

Tom glanced down at her, as if asking for permission. "Oh, go on," Mary encouraged him, too tired to sound enthusiastic. Thankfully, that didn't deter Tom, who excitedly went to take their son from the doctor.

"Oh, God, Mary," she heard him say somewhere near the foot of her bed as Percy continued to cry. "He's so beautiful."

Before she could even ask to see him, Tom was returning to her, lowering him into her arms. He continued to cry, but Mary was able to see him. There was fuzzy, dark brown hair that was almost black at the top of his head and his cheeks were rounded. He was absolutely perfect. "It's alright, darling," Mary murmured to him, trying to soothe him as best she could.

But it wasn't the end. About half an hour later, the same thing was happening all over again. Somehow, it wasn't nearly as bad as before, but Mary still couldn't help but be on edge the whole time, convinced something would happen.

Tom was similarly worried. She could still see the apprehension in his eyes each time he looked at her. It was exhausting, giving birth, while repeatedly assuring him, "I'm alright, this is normal," anytime she grimaced with pain— especially since this was the second time and when she certainly didn't feel alright. There finally came the point where she could no longer pretend for his sake, making noises that sounded almost inhuman. She couldn't wait until this was finally over...

And when it was, it was well worth it. Their daughter was tiny and beautiful, though a little larger than her brother. Mary was suddenly struck by her resemblance to George as a baby. She didn't cry nearly as much as Percy but she was still loud.

"Tom, she's perfect," Mary whispered as she held their daughter.

"They both are," he answered, voice full of adoration. "I can't believe we made them."

Mary couldn't believe it, either. She was struck by how drastically their lives had changed since last January. She never would have believed that her and Tom would become parents again, and to twins at that, but she knew she wouldn't have it any other way. Perhaps they weren't the most conventional or normal family, but it was the best one in her eyes.


Mary awoke as the nurse came into the room to check her vital signs. Her eyelashes fluttered as she heard the woman typing at the computer but instead came to look at Tom, who was sleeping on the couch. His arms were crossed over his chest, socks still on his feet, which were perched on the armrest. Thank God he was here... Mary immediately felt at ease and fell back asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up again to the sounds of a crying baby. Something nudged her and her eyes opened. She found Tom standing over her, dark circles under his eyes but crinkled in such a way she knew he was smiling beneath his mask. "Someone wants their Mummy," he told her.

Mary glanced down and saw the blue cap. "He's probably hungry," she mumbled, though she likely wasn't heard over the sound of his wails. It was only after she started feeding him that she realized a nurse was in the room as well with Baby Girl, who handed her over to Tom.

"Is she asleep?" Mary asked once the nurse left.

Tom nodded. "She must be a heavy sleeper." He sat down in the chair beside Mary's bed.

She managed a smile. "Have you told anybody yet?" She asked, voice hushed.

"No, not yet. I probably should have," Tom admitted, "but I didn't want to without asking you first... and it was late."

"What time is it now?"

"Just before eight o'clock."

"Hm. It doesn't feel like it."

"No," he agreed, "it doesn't."

For the first time in hours (at least, while conscious), Mary was at ease. There was no threat of something happening to Tom, just as there was nothing to suggest anything would happen to her. It felt so perfectly natural to be sitting here like this with Tom, with their babies.

"I had a thought last night," Mary spoke quietly, glancing up at Tom from the bed. "Viola."

Tom looked up. "Viola?"

"Yes. For her."

Tom looked from Mary back down to their daughter. "I think it's perfect."

Mary's relief was palpable. "Do you really think so?"

"I do." Tom maneuvered himself just enough so that he could bend over, pull down his mask, and kiss her. "And it's close to Violet... and she's been easily been our biggest champion."

"That's what I was thinking," revealed Mary, pleased to know he had picked up on that.

Texts were sent out shortly thereafter, informing everyone of the births of Percy and Viola Branson. The congratulations came piling in, from Edith and Bertie to all four Bateses. "Anna says she can't wait for Belle to meet her best friends once all this is over," Tom said, reading off his phone.

Mary beamed. Though they may have been unplanned, Percy and Viola were lucky enough to be guaranteed two playmates in Theresa (who Thomas now calling Tessa) Barrow-Kent and Belle Bates. She suspected they would be in the same classes once they started to school... which was incomprehensible for her to imagine while they were so tiny.

"Isobel sends her love," Tom said a moment later as another text came in. "She wonders if now would be a good time for us to FaceTime the children." He frowned. "She says Sybbie had a rough night."

"Oh no," Mary said, wondering now if she should have told him about her anxieties over Mary giving birth. "We'd better say hi to them, then, to show them we're all four of us well."

George and Sybbie were thankfully enthused and in much brighter spirits than Mary expected when they called them. George cooed over the babies and Sybbie was smiling, asking Mary if it hurt. "It did, but I'm perfect alright, darling," answered Mary, eager to soothe her worries.

It didn't occur to Mary until that evening that the danger was finally over. Dr. Ryder wasn't concerned about her health nor them at of the babies, and Tom was almost always in her line of sight, save for trips to her bathroom. It really would be alright this time...

"Are you alright?" Tom asked, noting her pensiveness when the nurses took the babies out of the room for some additional tests.

Mary nodded slowly. "I'm just... so happy." Maybe she didn't sound it, but she was.

"I am, too," Tom said, reaching for her hand again. It felt warm, a wonderful contrast to the cool hospital air. "I love you— all three of you— so much."

Mary nodded, the lump in her throat preventing her from speaking again. This was her happy ending, she realized, and what a wonderful one it was.