A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks to all those who have reviewed this story, or favourited it - it means a lot so thank you! :) I'm glad for any criticism or help, so reviews are welcome :) I'm also grateful for those who are continuing to review and favourite my other Downton stories I have written; I have enjoyed writing them so I am so glad that people also like them.
This chapter is a tad angsty I guess in a way... But be prepared! Enjoy :)
January 1917
Matthew had seen her that night, and he hadn't known quite what to do. All he could do was simply stare at her, for a few moments forgetting about his fiancée standing next to him and just focusing on her. He felt that connection again, the connection only her and he had; he couldn't help but be stunned by her beauty, as he always was… At this point he cursed himself for thinking such thoughts. You've moved on, he thought to himself, as he felt a slight tap on his arm. Breaking off eye contact, he smiled back at Lavinia, who's smile shone back at him with adoration. He felt immensely guilty for the thoughts and for sharing that connection with Mary, and forced himself to rid all of his feelings for her. He had moved on, he was with Lavinia whom he cared for very much – he loved her, he was engaged to her and he would have to rid any feelings of Mary to continue to make the engagement work. He had to remind himself that he was now the one with someone else, the one who was due to marry another woman, he couldn't think such feelings about Lady Mary. Yet he did. And he hated himself for that, for the fact that somewhere below all of the new feelings and love he had for Lavinia, he still very much had a connection with Mary.
But now, he was standing in a darken trench, surrounded by mud and makeshift walls, getting ready to lead his men into battle once more. He had to show courage as the captain of his regiment, courage and bravery into the unknown dangers that would face them as they would charge into battle. You never knew what would happen out in no-man's land, whether you would return dead or alive, injured or safely. Matthew hadn't believed in violence as a way of settling conflict, but he reminded himself that he chose to be here. He had enlisted himself to fight, enlisted himself to be as far away from Downton as possible and even though he shifts the blame to Mary and her motives, he was there fighting for his freedom. Double checking his rifle once more, he hastily shouted along the line to the rest of his regiment, each of them looking petrified. He often felt sickened at some of the ages of the lads that had signed up – some looking nearly as young as 16.
"Rifles at the ready! Fix bayonets!" He hollered along the line, hearing the clicks of guns being loaded with ammunition. "Get ready lads!"
He privately thought to himself, thinking of back home as he always did as he set out. He thought of Downton, his mother, Lavinia… And with a sharp blast of his whistle along with many other captains along the miles of trenches, he was roaring with his men and sprinting up the ladder into no-man's land. Instantly shells began raining down on them, mud and shrapnel flying everywhere but Matthew continued to press forward, encouraging his men to do the same. Dodging bullets and shells, he aimed his own rifle and fired and kept firing, determined to knock down any German that came in his way. He saw men crumple beside him, his own men and his friends, screaming out in pain as bullets hit them. Diving for cover in a shell hole, he pulled one of his men with him and together they continue to fire at the Germans rapidly advancing. Near him, Matthew saw Major Owen go down under heavy fire. Ignoring the shouts from one of his privates, he dashed out and reached the Major, hauling the man up onto his shoulders. Shouting, he began to run back to the safety of the trench when it all happened so suddenly. A searing pain shot up through his left leg and he cried out in agony, the pain become fast unbearable. He hobbled to try and reach the trench but he heard the unmistakeable whistle of a shell bearing down. Suddenly, he was thrown into the air as the shell landed not far from him. He cried out as he landed heavily on his back, clapping his hands to his ears as a ringing filled them, winching and screaming at the sear pain he was in. He looked down at his leg, and saw mangled limbs and blood covering his lower half of his left leg. Another pain shot through his arm as he struggled to make it to the trench, winching and crying out with every movement. He began to taste an almost metallic taste in his mouth and he realised he had somehow hit his head, which was now bleeding profusely. Slowly, everything became out of focus as he crawled, desperate to reach safety. Eventually, he had no energy left in him and laid spread-eagle on the muddy ground. It was as if he was welcoming death, but he wanted to fight it, fight the incoming darkness. He had often heard that your life flashes before your eyes as you die – Matthew had never really believed in nonsense until now. He saw his mother, his father, the great house of Downton Abbey, the Earl, Lavinia, Mary, Mary… He tried to think of Lavinia, he wanted her face to be the last thing he saw if it ever was – but Mary was there, her beautiful face smiling tearfully at him. He eventually gave up fighting not to see her face, and allowed himself to fall slowly into darkness, his pain numbing and her beauty still fresh in his mind. He had muffled shouts around him and hands grabbing him as he silently passed out.