A/N: Many thanks once again for the reviews and alerts you readers have put on this story. I'm afraid this story is pretty angsty for the best part of it but I hope you all enjoy it! I've been ill the last couple of days so I have taken the opportunity to write some more chapters - here's the next installment!

March 1917

As he stared out across the lawn of Downton, wincing slightly as a flash of pain shot up suddenly in his left leg, Matthew thought of the very thought of how his injuries came about – the war. It had been a couple of months since he had first arrived back at Downton, and he had slowly recovered from his injuries sustained, having been told he would not be fit for service once more and he admitted quietly to himself he was glad not to be back at that hell-hole. He would regularly have flashbacks and nightmares about the trenches – the darkness, the mud, the blood, the fear – he would get flashbacks on his friends screaming out beside him, dying and he always would then remember that moment when his life went turned upside down. He could almost feel the moment the bullet impacted his lower leg, feel the pain shooting up, pain like he had never experienced before. He could hear the whistle of shells raining down on him, a whistle coming closer and closer before he was then flown into the air. Matthew closed his eyes as he remembered the moment he laid on the ground, seeing all of the people who had and still meant something to him. He quickly opened his eyes as his thoughts crossed Mary, and cursed himself, telling him to think of Lavinia.

He vaguely remembered when he first arrived back at Downton, feeling the pressure of a hand in his, seeing his mother before it all went dark once more. The next time he awoke properly, he felt Lavinia's little hand in his and his mother looking cautiously over at him. He had smiled weakly at Lavinia, happy that she was there. She continued to look after Matthew, aiding and healing him until he had been well enough to walk aided with crutches; he still became weak easily so he had also use a blasted wheelchair which was currently sat in whilst looking out across the grounds. He was surrounded by other wounded soldiers, most sporting various bandages, others like him confined to a wheelchair. Nurses wondered around helping others but Matthew was left in peace, which he liked. He was ashamed to be seen in a wheelchair; he felt it shown how weak he was, that he wasn't the strong Captain that was expected of him. He was alone this particularly day as Lavinia had headed back to London for a few days to sort some business, and he found himself particularly lonely without her. He did love Lavinia, he smiled to himself, thinking of her wonderful smile and the way she had been so caring to him – he did care for her very much. Yet, he almost felt disappointed in a way that she wasn't Mary as Matthew found himself once again thinking about the eldest Grantham daughter. He would admit, he found himself a little hurt by the fact Mary had not visited since he had arrived back at Downton – although she had apparently asked after him, he would have rather liked a visit from her. He shook his head – why should he care if Mary had visited him or not? What right did he have any more to even care? He let his trail of thoughts wonder to the very day he announced he was leaving Downton, leaving her as his gaze fell on the bench a short distance away. He could clearly remember her distress, his voice cracking with emotion as he could feel his eyes blurring with unwanted tears. And he could have sworn when he walked away from her that day, he heard a small sob, but he hadn't turned round; as hard as it had been, he had forced himself to continue walking.

He heard footsteps suddenly shake him out of his trance, and smiled as Lady Sybil rounded the corner, dressed in her uniform. He had to admit, he was impressed with Sybil's passion and work ethic as she had ignored those who told her not to train as a nurse and became determined to achieve what she wanted to achieve. He had always been good friends with Sybil ever since he had helped her when she was injured at the count, and she in return had helped him graciously with his injuries. She flashed a bright smile in return as she sat down by his side.

"Good afternoon Matthew!"

"Good afternoon Sybil," Matthew smiled, her good mood infectious – he suddenly felt ten times brighter than he had done moments ago.

"How are you feeling today?" Sybil asked, as Matthew nodded in return.

"Not bad; just the old leg is sore," He winced at that moment as another pain shot up through his leg. He hit the side of his wheelchair, sick of the damn thing as Sybil looked on sympathetically.

"You won't be in that forever you know. Your leg will heal," She said, smiling sadly at Matthew who had looked up from giving his wheelchair a narrowed look and smiling weakly.

"I know, I just…want to be doing something," He sighed heavily, Sybil nodding in understanding, "I want to be out there doing something, not stuck here doing nothing!" He rubbed his right temple softly, feeling the scar that had been left there. He hated that scar too, a scar that would forever remind him of the war, a solid reminder. His hand tightened on the wheelchair as the memories once again came running back and he shuddered, closing his eyes to block them out. Sybil gently placed a hand on his arm, and he looked up to a small smile.

"You'll be out on your feet soon I'm sure, just take one step at a time," Sybil smiled, as Matthew smiled gently and nodded, before turning to stare out across the lawn again. He began to relax again, his grip loosening on his wheelchair as a fresh ray of sun hit his face, relishing in the warmth. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Sybil broke it.

"Where is Lavinia today if I may be so bold to ask?"

Matthew turned and smiled at Sybil.

"No not at all! She is in London today, she will be back soon," He smiled at the thought of Lavinia, his now intended – he was looking forward to seeing her once more. Sybil smiled briefly, before standing up abruptly.

"Please do excuse me Cousin, I must return to the house," She said, smiling as Matthew nodded. He was just about to look back across the gardens, when Sybil spoke again once more, just as she was about to turn to leave.

"Oh and by the way – she misses you. And I know deep down somewhere, you miss her too." And with that Sybil left, leaving Matthew to ponder and chew over her words as he stared after open-mouthed, stunned into shock. Mary miss him? Never, Matthew thought to himself but then something caught his eye as he had followed Sybil walking back into the house. Up above from one of the windows, stood her, the very person Sybil had meant, gazing out on the lawn just like he had been. He briefly caught her eye and for a second, just a second, he felt that connection again as their eyes meant. He stared into chocolate brown eyes, everything else was blocked out of his mind until she blushed and walked away hastily from the window, leaving Matthew to gaze at nothing. The more and more he thought about her, the more and more he knew that the feelings he still had for her were becoming alive once more. And he hated himself because he knew it was not the honourable thing to do.