A./N.: I apologize for my long absence. Crazy end of term at University and stress in my family. The usual chaos, what can I say. To make up for it I'm posting a veeeeery long chapter and hope you enjoy it. I wanted to draw a line under all the bad stuff in the story before focussing on the happy future. Reviews with your opinions, support or critic are always appreciated and quite honestly make my day, so don't hold back.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

"Mama?" Sybil's clear voice drifted over to Lady Grantham as she was talking quietly with Mr Travis about the upcoming nuptials. When she had reached the two adults, Sybil beamed up at the elderly clergy man. "Oh, Mrs Travis, that was a very inspiring service," she enthused, "I especially liked the part about no sinner escaping his just punishment. You were talking about that …" she hesitated for a bit, stumbling over what to call Mr Grigg. After drawing a deep, calming breath she went on "… that appalling man? But I have to admit my absolute favourite moment was the reading of the banns." She smiled brightly up at Mr Travis before, not waiting for an answer, turning to her mother and asking the question which had brought her over in the first place, "May I walk back home with Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes?" A pleading look accompanied her words.

Lady Grantham was hard pressed to deny her anything on an ordinary day, but lately it was impossible. Her youngest daughter's devotion in caring for their housekeeper had been heart-wrenchingly beautiful and Cora was beyond proud of her child, but now she was unable to deny her anything. Resignedly she smiled and nodded. "Make sure you're no bother, Sybil," she warned softly. "Maybe they want to be alone, mind."

Sybil only grinned broadly at her mother and was off in a flash. A moment later she stood excitedly next to Mrs Hughes, beaming at Anna and Mrs Patmore while gently holding Elsie's hand. This was where she felt calm and at peace. Whenever the housekeeper was out of her sight, she worried about her and she was only reassured by Mr Carson's or Anna's word that the woman was indeed fine and safe.

Elsie smiled fondly at the youngest lady, squeezing her hand slightly, before focusing on Charles, who was coming towards them. Having herded everyone else on the way home, he was now intent on enjoying the walk back with his betrothed at his arm. An irresistible force pulled the corners of his mouth upwards and a growing bubble of happiness and contentment lifted his heart into the heavens. Seeing Elsie in the midst of her friends, smiling and with sparkling eyes, was the most beautiful sight he had seen in a long time. Reaching her, Charles smartly saluted first to Lady Sybil and then towards Elsie, bowing over her hand which now wore his engagement ring and then straightening again to offer her his arm.

"May I escort you home, fair lady?" he asked, feeling playful and carefree in her company and completely ignoring the female giggles of the group around them.

For a moment Elsie was thrown, but then a tentative smile answered his bright one and she bobbed a small curtsey, her eyes demurely cast downwards. "You are too kind, sir," she murmured huskily, feeling his eyes burn into her. She also remembered the kisses they had exchanged since their engagement, causing her to flush and her heartbeat to accelerate. Finally she dared to raise her gaze to his comforting brown orbs and was able to take his arm without another moment's hesitation.

Sybil, who had let go of Elsie's hand when Charles had approached them, clapped excitedly. "Mama has allowed me to walk back with you," she gushed, fluttering her eyelashes at Mr Carson. It might work for Mary to simply state her intent with him, but Edith and she had to appeal to his good will.

Carson seemed to be in a jolly mood; he nodded to the young lady and offered her his other arm. "Then it will be my pleasure to walk with two such lovely women by my side," he said lightly, drawing an adoring sigh from Beryl and giggles from Anna and Lady Sybil. The girl even blushed faintly, but quickly recovered, accepting the proffered arm with poise.

In companionable silence Charles and Elsie walked the same path they had taken for a good 15 years now. They were content in each other's company, wrapped securely in the knowledge of their love for one another, and simply enjoyed listening to the happy chatter around them. Charles observed Elsie and he couldn't help but feel that the worst was finally over. Elsie was smiling as her sparkling eyes darting to and fro between their charges. He could see her having to bite her tongue on a number of occasions to appear her usual stern self. Charles himself was overjoyed by all the happiness around them and the thought of their bright future together.

They had walked for a while when the group came to the sight of the crime without knowing it. The only people who knew where the unspeakable had happened were Grigg, Matthew and Elsie. The youngsters walked on, chatting and laughing, and didn't notice that Mrs Hughes had become very quiet and withdrawn and had even slowed down until she was standing in the middle of the road. Her breathing was erratic and her eyes had glazed over, unseeing while the nightmare replayed before her mind's eye. Suddenly the memory of Grigg had touched her, as suddenly as a hand coming out of the woods around them to seize her arm. Seize her arm, lift her skirts and penetrate her in a way much more shockingly intrusive than the actual experience had been.

Beryl noticed her friend's gasping for breath and quickly came to stand by her side. She could see the horror written all over her friend's face and suddenly the terrible truth hit her. Here … it had happened here. Beryl blanched and whirled around.

"Charles!" she yelled, uncaring that she had used his Christian name or had dropped all propriety.

The air around Elsie was suffused with the scent of decaying wood and as cold as it had been that night. She heard the tearing of her clothes as Grigg's hands tore them apart, and heard his sigh of pleasure. The meagre light of the moon coming through the trees flickered at the edge of her vision, then was blotted out by the man between her ...

"God, Elsie! Are you all right?"

Elsie hadn't actually fallen down. She had reeled back against the hard, unyielding solidness of a tress behind her, and Charles, having reacted instantly to Beryl's call and seeing her go, had leapt forward to catch hold of her.

"Let go", Elsie hissed, breathless, but imperative. "Let go of me!"

Charles heard the note of terror in her voice and slackened his grip, but couldn't bring himself to let go altogether, lest she fall. With the energy of sheer panic, Elsie pulled herself upright, out of his grasp.

She still smelled wood and leaves. Then she came to herself and realized that she was standing in the middle of the road through the forest on their way back to Downton Abbey. Knowing that the trees were real was comforting, but she felt as though she stood still on the edge of a vast abyss, alone, separate from every other soul in the universe. She felt a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach as she realised that all their charges surrounded them, their faces full of concern and yet they couldn't possibly comprehend. Charles was close enough to touch and yet it was as though he stood an immeasurable distance away. Then he touched her and spoke her name, insistently, and just as suddenly as it had opened, the gap between them closed. She nearly fell into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around him so he might anchor her in the real world.

"What is it, love?" he whispered, holding her against his chest, not caring that the entire staff of Downton Abbey saw them. "What has frightened you?" His own heart was thumping under her ear; she'd scared him, too.

"Nothing", Elsie said, and an overwhelming wave of relief washed over her, at the realization that she was safely in the present. Grigg had gone back into the shadows, for now. The staggering sense of violation, of loss and grief and isolation had receded, no more than a shadow on her mind but not entirely gone. Best of all, Charles was there, solid and physical and smelling of ink and his cologne ... and there. She hadn't lost him. She was safe. Nothing could touch her as long as she was in his arms.

Charles sensed immediately that it had not been 'nothing'. Calmly, so as not to frighten Elsie more than she already was, he turned his head towards Mrs Patmore and spoke authorative, but still softly, "Please see the staff safely home. I would appreciate it, if you could tell Lord and Lady Grantham that I have taken Mrs Hughes on a walk and we will both be back at work shortly."

Beryl swallowed nervously, but managed to stammer an affirmative. She wanted to be there for her friend, but knew it would be better if she let Charles handle her. He was the only one able to calm her, it seemed. And, moreover, she trusted him with the sanity, health, and reputation of her friend. With only a fleeting glance back, she began to shoo the younger staff away. Then her eyes fell on Lady Sybil, who stood rooted to the spot, her eyes fixated on the housekeeper.

"My lady," she approached the young girl tentatively.

"Shouldn't we stay …" the girl asked, clearly yearning to be reassured.

"No, we shouldn't," Beryl stated with conviction, adding softly so only Sybil could hear her, "Give them a moment, M'Lady. He can bring her 'round."

"But …" the young lady was still not convinced and pleaded with the cook to let her stay and watch over her dear friend.

"My Lady, Mrs Patmore is right," Anna interrupted and gently tugged at Sybil's arm. "Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes surely have a lot to discuss. We will wait for them at the Abbey."

Reluctantly Sybil turned and allowed Anna and Mrs Patmore to lead her away. She still wasn't all too happy about leaving Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes behind, but she instinctively knew that Mrs Patmore was right. Both adults had to talk about a lot of things, their impending marriage, their future, the child Mrs Hughes was carrying. She just wanted to be near Mrs Hughes after they had come so close to losing her forever. Lately she had often been awakened by nightmares; all of them featured Mrs Hughes bloodied and beaten body, and in all of them Sybil frantically searched her wrist and neck for a pulse … never finding one beating under the surface. She involuntarily shuddered at the thought and nearly turned back around again and ran straight into Mrs Hughes' arms. Instead she grasped Mrs Patmore's arm and held on tightly.

oOoOoOo

Charles felt the tremors ebbing away out of Elsie's body as their co-workers walked on and the terrible recollections were pushed to the back of her mind once more. He wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing. His mother had always made him talk about the bad dreams he had had as a child, always claiming that it would help banish them. He drew a deep breath to ask Elsie about what she had remembered, but before he could even exhale Elsie slackened her death-grip around him and slowly pushed away.

"Let us go home now, Charles," she said, not meeting his eyes. She had obviously felt his resolution and could guess what would be coming. She tried to step past him, but Charles gently took her hand and held her back.

"Not yet, love," he whispered. His heart was breaking seeing her this small and scared, but he knew he had to go on. His hope that she would now return to a sense of normalcy were dashed by her most recent behaviour. She was running away from her memories and thus making them worse. "Tell me about it, Elsie," he pleaded softly.

"I can't," Elsie whimpered, her eyes still glued to her shoes. "Please don't make me."

Charles felt his heart constrict painfully. He drew Elsie against his chest again and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, holding her protectively and praying that he could somehow shield her from her pain. "I won't today," he promised. "I love you. You are safe now."

Elsie felt like breaking down, sliding to the ground and sobbing. His love washed over her and she wanted nothing more than to get lost in it, but she couldn't. He was holding her in his grip still, he was standing between them – always would. The mere thought disgusted her. She had finally allowed herself to open her heart to Charles, but it was too late. She was no longer pure and worthy of him. His words rang in her ears, his reassurances of love and devotion, but how could he be sure, how could he know? Once they were married and the child was born his feelings would change, she was convinced. No man could love a child that wasn't his. Again she wrenched herself away from him, a sob tearing from her chest.

"No," she wasn't aware she was speaking, too lost in her own dark thoughts. "I will never be free of him. I'm not safe. I'm soiled, unlovable."

Charles' good spirits were destroyed for good. He had thought that they had dealt with her insecurities, had overcome her doubts. He was at his wits' end of how else he could reassure her. … Maybe that was at the crux of the problem. He had always deflected her doubts, had not really addressed them and seen them through her eyes, but now he would for her … for them.

"No, Elsie, you won't be free of him," he said slowly, testing the waters.

Elsie nodded sadly, her face turned away from him. "It is not too late to turn back. I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice everything for our friendship, Mr Carson, but I can't let you do that," she said quietly, her heart breaking but valiantly trying to keep that out of her voice.

"You misunderstand," Charles said clearly. He tried to remain calm and not show that his heart was hammering in his chest … that his mind refused to contemplate a future without Elsie by his side. "I meant, that you won't be free of him until you let go of the notion that he has changed you, that what he did changed you. I could repeat myself now and over and over again, but it will fall on deaf ears unless you are willing to believe it."

Elsie whirled around. Her eyes were as round as saucers and her mouth was hanging open. She was a sickly shade of pale and trembling, her arms wrapped around herself in a shielding gesture, but she stood her ground before him. "Are you saying this is my fault?" she demanded hotly … finally showing anger, showing a little fraction of the red-hot rage burning in her heart.

"You're certainly making it hard for everyone around you to show you that you are still the same to us, that we still love and respect you," Charles went on ruthlessly. He could see the effect his words had, but he knew that he had to go on to drive his point home, to make her see the truth at last.

Now Elsie was enraged, her Scottish temper fully aroused. How could he, the man she trusted most, stand there in front of her and accuse her of shutting them out, of hanging on to the memories of her rape? Furious, she swung a hand at him but he caught her wrist easily in one of his big paws.

"And, now", Charles said reprovingly. "You're not really mad at me." He caught the other wrist as she struck at him again and pulled them both up sharply. "Tell me what makes you angry. Tell me what you want."

"You brute! I want my honour and my life back! I want to turn back time and make it undone!" she screamed at him and swivelled in his grip, used her weight to swing aside, and brought her knee up hard. Charles turned only slightly and her knee collided with his thigh, not the vulnerable flesh she had been aiming for. The blow must have bruised him but he didn't lessen his grip on her wrists in the least. She twisted, kicking, cursing and screaming. She hit his shin dead-on at least twice but he only chuckled, as though finding her struggles funny.

"Is that all you can do, darling?" he asked provocatively. "You have to fight for what you want. You have never once, in all those years that I've known you, been afraid of fighting for what you believe in. Do you believe in us enough to fight for us?"

Never before had his voice sounded more taunting to her. Charles broke his grip then, but only to shift both her wrists to one hand.

"Let go of me!" she screamed. Elsie braced her feet and yanked down on his arm as hard as she could, bringing it into biting range. She lunged at his wrist, but before she could sink her teeth in his flesh, she found herself jerked off her feet and whirled through the air. She ended hard on her knees, one arm twisted up behind her back so tightly that her shoulder joint cracked.

"Why are you fighting me? What have I ever done to you, Elsie?" Charles demanded angrily, his own frustration over this whole damnable situation coming through. "You don't trust me, you don't believe a word I'm saying. You are so wrapped in your pain that you are ignoring everyone around you. I understand…"

"No, you don't – you can't," Elsie interrupted. "You are a man and know nothing of feeling helpless."

"Don't I?" Charles' voice lost all strength. "Don't I feel helpless seeing you hurting like this every waking moment? Am I not helpless in protecting you? I don't even know what I should protect you from. You don't let me at any rate. Don't I feel helpless, watching you lose your way but unable to bring you back?"

She was suddenly free again. So suddenly released, she pitched forward onto her face. She lay on the floor, panting and sobbing. "Damn it!" she gasped. She slammed the hand down on the floor. "Damn him!"

Charles stood quite still, looking down at her with his arms hanging uselessly by his sides. "Yes, damn him straight to Hell," he agreed. He sank down to the ground next to her. "I do feel helpless and a little frightened," he admitted quietly. "I don't want to hurt you or pressure you, Elsie. I want to be a good husband, because I love you with all my heart. I only fear that I'm not strong enough to fight for us both – to fight you and your uncertainty." He hung his head low, dragging one of his hands through his greying hair.

Elsie saw a scared man, who needed her as much as she needed him. Slowly she pushed herself up and scooted a little towards him. She didn't touch him, feeling that this was too important and that she couldn't yet seek comfort and oblivion in his embrace. "I love you, too, please believe that," she said softly, praying that she could reach him – that she was strong enough to reach out to him. "I want you and a family with you, but I can't help but wonder if that is even possible. You say you love and respect me, but how can you? I have been changed, Charles, that is the irrevocable truth."

Charles sighed, his shoulders sacking even more, and he nodded in defeat. "Does this mean you want to dissolve our understanding?" he asked, afraid of her answer.

"No!" Elsie surged forward, throwing herself at Charles and wrapping her arms around him as if he could disappear into thin air at any moment. "I can't be without you," she whispered, realising for the first time how much she relied on Charles – had always. He was her best friend, her confidant, her soul mate. Without him she was incomplete, broken, damaged. And finally Elsie understood. Finally it all clicked into place and she found peace for the first time since her ordeal. She took a deep, shuddering breath and wrapped her arms even tighter around Charles. Leaning up against him, she stroked through his hair and kissed his temple, his forehead, the top of his head, and finally understood that she was not broken because Grigg had raped her, but because she had isolated herself from Charles. Kissing his hair softly, Elsie did the bravest thing she had done in a long time, she forgave herself, she accepted the truth. Elsie Hughes was not the strong, emotionless housekeeper, but a human with a heart. She depended on others just like her charges did, and she wanted to be loved above all else. Loved by one Charles Carson.

Charles felt the change in Elsie, felt her come to some realisation, and his heart soared up. His arms came up on their own accord and wrapped themselves as tightly around her as her arms were wrapped around him. He was unable to think of anything he could say or do, but he could feel that Elsie was not yet finished. This was her turn to speak openly, to bare her soul, to stitch up her wounds and let them heal.

"Oh mo chride, I hurt you so," she whispered softly, reaching out a hand and bringing it to his face. Gently she cupped his cheek, her fingers entangling in his greying hair, and drew his face the few inches down to her face. She simply looked into his eyes, meeting his gaze openly, letting him see the innermost recesses of her heart and soul, the open wounds there, the crumpled ruins of her defensive barriers. She was bare before him and Elsie saw no rejection in his eyes – and by God she could understand if he repudiated her – and hope flickered in her heart, maybe not all was lost and they still had their chance for a happy future together. Raising herself up a little, she pressed a tender but nevertheless uncertain, close-mouthed kiss to his lips. "I do love you, mo luaidh, have loved you for some time. Housekeepers and butlers are not allowed to marry or even entertain thoughts of love, but I was unprepared for you and fell for your charms and the kindness you tried so hard to hide. We have danced around each other for years now, neither of us quite ready to make the first move … and then … it was all destroyed. When that man attacked me all I could think of was you. He hurt me and I thought about how safe I always feel around you. He u-used me and I could only think about how I had longed for your kisses and touch." She closed her eyes briefly, but went on bravely. "After, you were so attentive and careful around me, never frightening me. I even began to hope that we could somehow get closer, because you let your defenses down and sought out my closeness. We began our dance again when I collapsed in church. And then …"

"And the test came out positive," Charles finished her sentence for her. He had to get everything out or they would never heal and be a family. "I understand your nervousness and share it, believe me. I can't believe I will be a father. It is as shocking to me as it is to you. I mean have you ever looked at me and seen me as a father? Me? The stout, stoic, stern, unfeeling butler of Downton Abbey? What could I have offered a child?"

Elsie finally turned towards him and looked up into his eyes with her blue orbs which, now more than ever, were looking straight to the bottom of his soul.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can imagine you as a father. As a very good and loving father," she told him serenely. Then her eyes dropped and she turned her face to the side. "I often dreamt of you as the father of my children."

Elsie turned away from him and took two steps down the path before a hand shot forward and grabbed her arms. Turning her back towards him gently, Charles stared at her, speechless and shocked. He searched her eyes for the truth and found it in the blue depth.

Elsie's words were still ringing in Charles' ears. Had she really said what he thought she had? Did she really mean those words? He stood shell-shocked in front of his love. For the first time since their first meeting, Elsie let all her barriers down and showed herself to him, all of herself. Her eyes were truly the windows to her soul, they showed him all the love, trust and understanding she held for him as well as the hurt, sadness and confusion recent events had left behind. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for the flood of emotions threatening to drown him. Overwhelmed by his own feelings, he wrapped his arms around his beloved housekeeper and crushed her to him, driving the wind from her lungs. His mouth claimed hers in a demanding, almost feverishly devastated urgency.

Elsie's eyes flew wide open in surprise and her hands came up in an attempt to push him away. Charles obviously felt her discomfort for he softened his kiss, drawing her impossibly closer to him. Elsie felt her thoughts scatter and flee under the sensual assault of Charles' kiss. His kiss was both new and yet familiar, exciting and yet comforting. With every fibre of her body and soul she longed to be closer to him still, but rational thought inserted itself, with a vengeance. Pressing her hands against his chest and gently, but insisting, she pushed him back.

"Charles, stop," she panted, "this is madness."

Reluctantly he acquiesced to her wishes and, panting as hard as she was, stepped back a little, still holding her around the waist. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, sounding and feeling like a chastised hall boy. "I forgot myself. You really think I would make a good father?" he asked almost inaudibly.

For him it was unthinkable, almost ridiculous. Yet images of a happy future began to rise before his eyes, images of himself and his darling Elsie together. They were laughing and he leaned over, touching his hand protectively to her stomach. Elsie tenderly covered his hand with hers and smiled brilliantly up to him. Then the scenery changed and Charles saw himself cradling a tiny infant while Elsie lay in bed, sleeping peacefully. Almost fearfully he looked down at the bundle in his arms and recognized immediately Elsie's sparkling blue orbs in their child's face. Crooning softly to the child, he reached out a finger which it grabbed instantly in its tiny fist and smiled toothlessly up to him. His eyes misted over with tears as his daydream progressed.

Elsie watched him intently, wondering and half fearing what he was thinking about. Had she gone too far in sharing that inner most secret with him? Had she offended him in some way?

"Oh, Elsie, please tell me you meant ... that I would really made a good ... oh God, Elsie ..." He was tearing up then and leaned heavily on Elsie. Her arms went around him instantly and drew him close to her, cradling his head in the cervix between shoulder and neck and stroking the fringe of hair at the base of his head.

"Charles, you will make a wonderful father and a wonderful husband," she reassured him softly. She kissed the top of his head softly and just held him, feeling peace wash over her. This was where she belonged from now on till the day she died.