"Still no sign, nurse?"

"No, Doctor, I'm afraid."

"Well, she is taking her time... No changes, you say?"

"No changes, sir."

"Very well, inform me if anything alters."

"Yes, Doctor."

The foreign voices prickled at the inside of her skull, each syllable switching a small piece of her mind on. Each tiny piece of information was a tiny candle in the blackness of her head, and as the conversation between the two unknown people went on, Sarah O'Brien could feel her body slowly becoming alive again. She became aware of her breathing, in and out, in and out, her lungs creaking painfully in her chest. Every fresh breath in cleared away the thick, foggy darkness in her head. She began to feel the thumping of her heart, the ache in her neck. She could feel the stiffness of her joints, the glass like feeling of her muscles, the ice cold feeling of her skin. With great effort, an icy shiver ran right down her spine, awaking the rest of her body. Slowly, her eyes half opened, and she gasped in the warm air.

She felt a light hand on her arm.

"Doctor!"

The noise caused her to flinch, and she instinctively tried to curl away from the nurse who called out. She was laying in a bed, her body constricted under a white, scratchy bed sheet. The room she was in was huge, sterile, and littered with beds exactly the same as her own. A hospital...

Why was she in a hospital? She brow furrowed in confusion as another blurred face swam above her.

"Can you hear me? Ma'am?" Who was this stupid man with that stupid accent? She attempted to bring a hand to her throbbing head, but her limbs felt like ice cold metal.

"Can you tell me your name?"

Her name... Her name? She blinked a few times, trying to focus on his face.

"Sarah O'Brien..." She croaked, her voice tiny and feeble. She swallowed hard as the Doctor nodded to the nurse, who left them and exited the room.

"Sarah O'Brien... Do you know where you are?"

"No."

"What was the last thing you remember?"

She paused for a second. The last thing she remembered? Being here in this bed, of course! Then before that... Her brain seemed to freeze over, and she was swamped in darkness. She closed her eyes tightly, desperately trying to grab some sort of sense of direction.

"You were on board the Titanic, Miss O'Brien."

She looked back at him, his American accent causing her stomach to twist and tighten sickeningly. Something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. Where was she? This wasn't Downton, and this American fruitcake certainly wasn't from Yorkshire.

"Where am I?" She tried to push herself onto her elbows. The Doctor raised his hand in protest, and she felt herself falling back onto the bed.

"You're in New York, miss, in hospital. You're very lucky to be alive."

New York... The Titanic... She could see the pieces in her head swirling in front of her, like a giant jigsaw with its pieces strewn across the blackness of her mind. She remembered Downton... And Thomas. Yes, Thomas with his cigarettes and his sleek black hair. She closed her eyes in an attempt to picture him more clearly. She could see the table in the servants hall, littered with cups and plates. She could see Anna and Bates, canoodling in the corner... Urgh! Then there was Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes dithering about, Daisy running desperately back into the kitchen, answering Mrs Patmore's shrieks. She snorted to herself, looking down at the fine material in her hands. She had to repair a tear in it for...

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, panic freezing every single cell in her exhausted body. The Doctor's American tones echoed in her ears, and all of a sudden a million images of her face flashed in front of her.

She was laughing, drinking, eating. She was sat at her dressing table, fixing her jewellery. She was gliding across the grounds of the Abbey, her beautiful dress billowing behind her. She was staring at her through the mirror of her dressing table, a lopsided smile on her pale face. She was exiting the car, holding onto Sarah's arm for balance. She was making her way up the ramp, elegant as ever, seemingly unfazed by the shadow of the giant ship in front of them. She was leaning against the rail, the cold Atlantic air whipping at her face. She was pushing a glass of amber liquid across the table towards her, a playful smile toying with her lips. She was on the floor of the deck, blood seeping down her cheek. She was screaming her name, disappearing in a sea of faces as their fingers slid apart. She was clasping onto Sarah's lifejacket, crying into her shoulder, terrified. And then finally, there she was... Lips blackened with cold, quivering in the night air, their faces inches apart as they waited to die...

"Where is she?!" she shouted, ripping the sheets off her feeble body. The Doctor was taken by surprise, and he was unable to push the woman back down onto the bed.

"Miss, please calm yourself!"

Panic erupted in Sarah's chest as the realisation hit her like a charging, raging bull. The water, the cold, Cora... She felt her stomach tighten again and she fought the urge to be sick. Her whole body shook, and she grabbed the Doctors arm desperately.

"Please, my Lady, you must find her, she was with me when we - when the ship went down!"

"Miss, if you'll just calm down we may be able to help you!"

He took her hand firmly in an attempt to calm her. Sarah could feel her chest tightening and she closed her eyes as the images and horrors of that night flashed before her eyes.

"There is a gentleman with a list of surviving passengers on his way, he won't be long. Becoming hysterical won't solve anything, will it? I need you to calm down before he comes in. Can you do that?"

Sarah fell back against the hard pillows, nodding her head shakily. Her throat seemed to have closed over, and her lip trembled painfully. Oh god... She had prepared herself for death when they'd been in the water, prepared herself to die with Cora clung on to her, and her to Cora... Never had she considered only one of them not making it, especially her. No, no! If she had made it out of the water, surely Cora had too? Please, oh God please.

"Ah..."

She looked up to see a man in some sort of naval uniform making his way over to her. He looked tired and grim faced, his face shadowed by an overwhelming sadness. The Doctor rose to greet him and the two men exchanged a few words before the man took a seat next to her bedside.

"Miss Sarah O'Brien?" he asked before opening a file that had been clutched under his arm. He was English, his accent not so different from her own.

"Yes." she whispered, fighting the tremble in her voice.

He said nothing, and scribbled something on the page.

"What class please, miss?"

"First... Well, I - I was traveling with my lady, as her maid.."

He continued his writing.

"And who was your Lady?"

"Lady G - Grantham... That is... Lady Cora Crawley, Countess of Grantham."

She held her breath, watching him carefully as he continued to write. His eyes flickered over her, the sympathy in his eyes causing her own eyes to burn. He began to flick through the pages of the file, a small frown creasing his tired face as his eyes raked each line. Sarah watched him in silence, her fists clenched into the bed sheets.

"I'm afraid Lady Cora Crawley isn't on the survivors list, miss."

No... No!

"Could you...please, check again..."

He sighed gently, but returned his gaze back to the file. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, miss. She's not here."

She watched helplessly as he gently closed the file and got up to leave.

Cora wasn't on the survivors list. She wasn't here, she hadn't survived, and she, Sarah O'Brien, mere lady's maid, great protector, keeper of false promises, was here, alive. She glanced at the Doctor, who gave her a small understanding nod and left her side. Sarah turned in the bed, pulling the quilt over her head. She closed her eyes, her cheeks soaked with fallen tears. She wished right now that she'd been left in that damned water, left to die with her mistress! She fought the sobs that wracked her body so harshly. She wished she could trade this feeling in her chest for that which she had felt whilst in the cold, that which she had felt whilst waiting to freeze to death. And where was Cora now? Out in the Atlantic air, the air she disliked so very much? Out there alone, bopping up and down with her eyes frozen over and her once beautiful smile as cold as the ice particles in her hair? Would the blood from her fall on the deck still be there, frozen forever onto her glass like skin? Would her hands still be curled, believing that she was still attached to her loyal maid? The maid who promised not to leave her, the maid who should have died beside her, the maid who loved her terribly, terribly so.

Days had passed since Sarah had first awoken. It was time for her to leave the hospital and go elsewhere. Where exactly, she did not know. She didn't really care either. The guilt in her chest cut at her every time she took a breath in, and she couldn't escape from the images of Cora in her mind that haunted her, both night and day. The hospital had generously supplied her with clothes and shoes, but that was it. She had nothing but the flask that Mr Alexander had given her. She pocketed it carefully, trying not to think about the barman also floating around in the sea somewhere, frozen, dead eyes staring blanking into the sky. She took one last look in the small mirror before leaving the ward and making her way to the exit of the hospital. She could see the giant city beyond the doors, and she felt a jolt of fear shoot through her. Who was she kidding? She was a small Englishwoman from Yorkshire, she couldn't survive in this strange, foreign world. In fact... She wasn't sure she wanted to survive at all...

"Miss O'Brien!" she turned as she heard the American voice call out across the reception area of the hospital. The doctor was making his way towards her, followed by another, older man in a... Chauffeur uniform?

"Thank god we just caught you! Good timing, huh?"

She stared at him in confusion, her eyes flickering briefly to the other man.

"This gentleman has been looking for you... Mr..."

"Lovett, sir." Another American. "I'm here on behalf of Mrs Martha Levinson. She's been looking for you for quite some time, miss."

"Why?" Sarah watched the man carefully.

"I'm afraid I couldn't say. I've been sent to collect you and bring you back to her home."

Could she face Cora's mother? What did Martha Levinson want with her? To know Cora's last moments? To question her, to ask her why her daughter was dead and her lady's maid wasn't? For a second she considered running, simply turning around and bolting. But then what? There was nothing. At least if she went there was some sort of lead... And Cora had wanted her to see her childhood home. Her throat tightened at the thought of her.

"Alright."

She followed Lovett outside where a car was waiting for them. He held open the door for her, and she carefully climbed into the back. She wrapped her arms around herself, a violent shiver running over her skin.

"The journey will take a few hours miss, so make yourself comfortable."

She forced a small smile of appreciation, and settled back into the car, turning her head to see the strange streets flash by. It was like some sort of concrete prison, building after building, car after car, sidewalk after sidewalk. There were hundreds of people swarming the streets, all seemingly unfazed by the lack of sunlight that reached the depths of the buildings where they were. She coughed uncomfortably. The feeling was similar to that she had felt on the ship... Trapped like an animal in a cage, no sign of green land a for miles. Only she had Cora last time, and the Countess had soothed her, calmed her, cleared her mind of this panicky fog. Sarah put a hand to her face as she felt a tear roll down her cheek. She stole a glance at Lovett, who either didn't see, or was kind enough to pretend he didn't see.

Then journey went on and on, and Sarah felt her eyes growing heavy just as the scenery outside began to change. The buildings were less harsh, and there were trees and houses scattered about the less busy roads. It was only the sudden stopping of the car that caused the hand she was resting her head on to slip, and she awoke with a start.

"We're here miss." Sarah blinked a few times, taking in the sight of the grand house. Had she not have been so swamped in grief, she'd have marvelled at the sight of Cora's childhood home. Obviously not as grand as Downton, but still truly impressive. Lovett pulled open the door of the car and offered her an arm. She took it gratefully, her legs trembling as she got to her feet. Never in her life had she ever felt so weakened, so feeble, so exhausted. Her head pounded painfully as she felt Lovett steering her towards the main door of the house. He rang the bell, offering her a small encouraging smile.

"Ah, Miss O'Brien?"

The door was open, and there stood a man, in a uniform identical to that Mr Carson would wear.

"I just about caught her, I'm glad to say, sir."

The Butler ushered her inside the house gently, closing the door quietly. The house was huge and magnificent, as grand and beautiful as Cora had described it.

"O'Brien! Thank god, finally! I was starting to worry!"

Martha Levinson strode towards her, arms open to embrace her. Sarah froze, her heart thumping in her chest. What the hell was wrong with these people? Cora was dead, and here they were, happy as larry, going about their day as if nothing had happened! Sarah stood awkwardly as she felt the older woman hold her, her glaze flickering almost apologetically to the butler, who actually didn't seem to mind.

"Did you have much trouble, Lovett?" Martha asked as she pulled away from O'Brien, holding her at arms length as if studying her.

"No, ma'am. It was a very near miss, but not trouble at all."

"Good, good... Oh my dear, look at you! As white as a ghost! Come - Anderson, would you have some coffee, no, tea, brought into the library?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Martha steered her down a huge corridor, holding onto her arm gently.

"It's such a relief we found you, O'Brien. Robert has been in touch, he's coming over as soon as he can, so you'll be home in a couple of weeks, no doubt. In the mean time, you're staying here, which was the plan all along of course. Thank god my illness cleared up before you arrived!"

Was this some sort of strange American custom? To ignore the fact that someone was dead?! She felt confusion fog her mind as Martha stopped outside a door.

"Well, I'll fill you in with much more detail later. For now..." She opened the door carefully. "Go on." She gently steered Sarah inside, and Sarah frowned as the older woman closed the door, leaving her stood alone. The room was stiflingly hot, and she couldn't help but sigh at the wonderful feeling. Her body was still ice cold, but the warm air was soothing. The room was dark, all the curtains seemed to be drawn and there was a fire dancing happily, casting odd shadows up the walls. In front of the fire was a sitting area, and it was only a small sniffing noise that caused Sarah to look more carefully. With the greatest delicacy she could manage, she moved slowly towards the couch which had its back to her, the couch which seemed to be holding the source of the small sniff.

Then a face appeared over it. Sarah frozen, her legs trembling as her eyes raked over the person who was now standing to get a better look at her.

"Sarah?"

The floor could have disappeared under her feet and she wouldn't have noticed. There she was... Cora. The coldness of her limbs was washed away in the wave of complete and utter relief as the two women stood, mirroring each others shock. Sarah could feel herself shaking, her eyes burning with tears as the warmth within her engulfed her whole being. The fog in her mind was blown away, the darkness dispersed by the light coming from Cora's face. The crippling grief she had felt mere minutes ago was now mere pieces of ash, completely forgotten.

"M'lady..." she breathed, not bothering to stem the flow of tears. Cora lunged at her, her trembling hands wrapping the maid in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Sarah, thank god!" She was crying as she buried her face into Sarah's shoulder, her hands holding onto her desperately. "I didn't know what happened, or where you were, I thought you were..."

Sarah pulled back, placing her hands gently on Cora's cheeks. They placed their foreheads together and simply stared at each other, drinking in the image of the others face. Sarah ran a thumb across Cora's face, and the Countess sighed happily.

"I thought I'd lost you..." she whispered, closing her eyes as she leant in. Their lips met, this time full and warm, both women almost humming into each other. They pulled apart, returning to their embrace where they stood holding each other.

"You never lose me, m'lady... Never."

They stood in silence for a moment before Cora pulled her towards the couch.

"You're freezing..." They sat on the couch, their fingers entwined tightly as Cora pulled a thick blanket around them, shielding them from the cold. Sarah felt Cora curl into her, and she rested her head against the top of Cora's head.

"They told me you weren't on the survivors list..." she said after a few more minutes of blissful silence.

"Lovett... Bless him... He used my maiden name when he collected me. I went down as Cora Levinson, so when they looked for Cora Crawley..."

"... they couldn't find you."

"Mother had me brought here... They haven't stopped searching for you. I was starting to lose hope, there are so many who didn't make it..."

Sarah pulled Cora closer, planting a gentle kiss on her head.

"It's alright, my darling... We're both here, both safe..."

The two of them settled back into the couch, pulling the quilt tightly around themselves as they both watched the fire dance.

My deepest apologies for the time it's taken to complete this final chapter! Uni coursework sucks. Thanks for reading though, you beautiful people! :)

L xxx