Chapter Two

By the time Matthew Crawley had gotten dressed, shaved, eaten his breakfast, and heard the gate click closed behind him, it was decided. This day was as good a reason as any to be thankful for what he had. The air was crisp, the November breeze chilling, and he was glad for his heavy uniform. Bag in hand; he hoped the walk to the train station would clear his thoughts. The smell of smoke in the air, the feel that winter was indeed coming… it was so breathtakingly beautiful and yet heartbreaking at the same time. This time of year always brought about a specific kind of sadness, he believed. He was once again leaving his home. If someone had told Matthew Crawley that he would one day look at Downtown Abbey as his home, he would have scoffed. The old architecture, the wall hangings, the décor… it all seemed as unlike a home as possible when he first arrived four years prior.

Now however, the large doorways, the spacious rooms, the beautiful grounds… he'd learned to love them. He'd changed during the years he'd spent there. He'd learned about matters of an estate, he'd been considered a son by a man who was not his father, and he'd fallen in love. How things can change in a handful of years, he pondered. I could have been married by now. I could have had children. I could have never left the side of the woman I…loved. He sighed. Don't be utterly ridiculous Matthew. War waits for no man. Even if you were married you would have gone to war. And isn't it better this way? What if you had married Mary, and known true happiness, only to be lying face down in a ditch somewhere? She won't ever have to deal with the pain of being a widow….She didn't want to deal with the pain of being your WIFE, remember? Matthew cursed under his breath and told himself to get a hold of himself. That was all in the past. Besides, he and Mary were finally on good terms. After not seeing her for almost two years, they were friends. They were friends, and he couldn't ask for more. He couldn't. He was leaving Downtown with that at least. And I must be thankful for that, he thought, as the train station came into view.

And there was Lavinia. Beautiful, sweet, and innocent. She had snuck up on him, she had. After that day the war was announced, that breezy July day, he didn't think it was possible… to have his heart healed, to smile at someone he imagined he would marry, to love. To love like that… that passionate feeling that made him insane. The fire in Mary's eyes that made him feel challenged, the clenching of his stomach when they were alone, and the feel of her lips on his. He hadn't felt that intoxicating, renewing, consuming, challenging, loving love from his bride-to-be yet… but he knew, he hoped it would come. It must. Dear God, it must. He thought that Mary had truly broken his heart that day in July, but he was wrong. It was only a piece… a prominent piece, but a piece nonetheless. That's all it was. Just a piece. He still could love. He loved his mother, and Robert, a surrogate father. He loved Lady Sybil's strides towards a more modern, a better world. He loved Edith's decisions against what was expected. He loved Cora's welcoming nature from the beginning, becoming more genuine as the days progressed. He loved the prickly humor of the Dowager Countess, whom he believed cared a bit more than she let on. He loved Mary'sfriendship. That needs to be enough, Matthew. Let that be enough.

And he loved Lavinia. He loved her. She was so good to him. He loved her. He loved her. He loved her, he loved her. He loved the idea that they still had so much to learn from each other. He loved her. He loved her hair, glinting in the sunlight. He loved her. He loved her optimism. He loved her. He loved her. He loved her capacity to love. He loved her. He loved her.

I just need to convince myself that she is the only one I love.

The one I want to spend a lifetime with. The one I want to see in my children's faces, alongside mine. The one I want to have my fingers entwined with, always. The one I want to go to sleep next to, and wake up beside. The one I want to spend sleepless nights with tangled up in our sheets, and each other. The body I want to feel next to mine, nothing separating us. The love I want to prove to her, covering every inch of her body with the one thing I can give: my love. And my love-

He jumped at the sound of the train whistle, blowing shrilly into the early morning air. Matthew shook his head and tried to put such visions out of his head, knowing they did no good. For god's sake Matthew, he thought shamefully, at least think those things about the woman you're engaged to. Matthew knew he loved Lavinia, he truly did. But there was something about Mary he couldn't get out of his mind. The way she rolled her eyes at something said. The way she simply refused to back down in the heat of an argument. The way she hid her emotions so well, only to come unraveled at a single word. Yes, Matthew Crawley had studied, learned, watched, and yes, loved his cousin in a way he had a feeling few had. He realized her hard exterior was protection, protection from her fear of getting hurt. He knew the way she took her tea, how she secretly hated the idea of being disliked downstairs, her love of all things historical, and the lies she told. He knew of her childhood memories, whether they be arguing with Edith, caring for Sybil, reading a large volume of ancient Greece in her father's lap, or crying to her mother. He knew she hated the freckle behind her right ear, loved telling stories, and feared pain and suffering, even death to the people she loved. Anyone who said Lady Mary Crawley was cold, cruel, and one dimensional didn't know her in the slightest. And that was a fact.

Checking his watch, Matthew realized it was just about time to depart. The idea that he might never be standing in this spot again struck him. Perhaps he would never walk through the great doors of Downtown Abbey again. He would never marry, never be a father to anyone. He would never grow old holding the hand of the one he held most dear. He might never…

Lieutenant Matthew Crawley's thoughts were interrupted as the steam and smoke cleared. Thirty feet ahead was a figure in maroon, her back to Matthew's surprised face. The figure turned around, and he knew he was not mistaken. Half-smile on his face, he walked to greet her. Twisting her bag in her hands, she spoke first.

"Don't worry- I haven't come to undo your good work of the other night" she said, waving a hand in the air. Oh god, he thought. I wish you would, Mary. I wish I could just gather you in my arms this very instant. This isn't how I want to say goodbye, God forbid it's the last time we see each other.

Instead, he pulled himself together and said "You must have been up before the servants" at which Mary smiled and admitted "They were rather surprised to see me." Matthew noticed as she said this that she looked very pale. She had small circles under her eyes and he suspected that he wasn't the only one who had not slept well the night before. Tired as she was, she had met him there. She had come to see him off. Against his own warnings, that fact made his heart soar. And God, forgive him, pale, circles and all, she was beautiful. The color of her coat stood out against that cold November morning, and he'd never felt more alive staring at her, her eyes looking into his.

"I wanted to give you this" she said quietly, looking down and breaking their eye contact as she opened her small bag with a click. Reaching inside, she pulled out something which appeared to be a small cloth creature. Handing it over, she said "It's my lucky charm. I've had it always. "

Taking the tiny creature which he now recognized as a dog in his gloved hand, he smiled. The dog was a bit worn, and appeared to have a few small stains. He wondered when and how they got there.

"So you must promise to bring it back without a scratch" she said, fixing him with a stare and a smile that was so distinctly Mary. It made his heart break a bit.

"Won't you need it?" he said, to which she replied "Not as much as you", which they both knew was true. Blue eyes met brown once again, but she pulled away, saying "So look after it, please". He stopped fingering the dog and placed it gently in his pocket, in a way he hoped Mary could realize how much her gesture meant, and how carefully he would take care of it.

"I'll try not to be a hero, if that's what you're afraid of." "Just come back, safe and sound" she said with a smile and a nod, and surprised her cousin even further by asking "Did you have a happy time, yesterday?"

God, Mary, how I wish I could tell you the truth. I wish I could tell you that I wish we had spent my last day together instead. I wish I could tell you that.

Instead he looked at a spot to the left of her face and said with a sad smile "I showed Lavinia the places I like the most. Give her a few memories." Say it. Say it while you can. Tell her." Mary if I don't come back-"

"But-"

"No", he said, fixing her with his gaze. "If I don't, then do remember how very glad I am that we made up when we had the chance. I mean it- You send me off to war a happy man." The smile she gave him in response tugged at his heartstrings and almost was enough to let go. To let go, and kiss her. To let go, and tell her he still cared. That he more than cared, he loved her with his whole aching, selfish heart. But she didn't feel the same. Remember that. She wanted something else, a future, and a love that you could not provide. Remember that, and respect that.

Instead he plowed on, and said "Will you do something for me? Will you- Will you look after Mother… if anything happens?

"Of course we will- but it won't", she responded, shaking her head. He knew she didn't wish to think of such things, but he had to go on.

"She's young, she'll find someone else. I hope she will anyway. ..Until she does."

Mary nodded in response, and looked as though she was about to say something when the whistle sounded for the last time. Matthew saw her intake of breath and heard her say "Goodbye then."

What she did next astounded him. Taking the few steps that parted them, she leaned in and stood tall, and pressed her lips to his cheek. He could have sworn he felt her eyelashes flutter shut for an instant against his jaw. And then she pulled away, and Matthew would have given all of what little money he had to have had it last a moment longer. But the train was ready, and she simply said with a smile "And such good luck."

His pulse still racing from the kiss, and his heart aching like he had never felt it before, he said "Goodbye Mary. And God bless you." With one last look, he turned away, and left her standing there. The door which read FIRST in gold letters shut quietly and he made his way to his seat, seeing her face for one more instant out the window before the train began to leave the station.

Taking off his hat, Lieutenant Matthew Crawley leaned back against the seat, his hand on the pocket which held his one true connection to home, and her. He left his cousin on the platform that November morning, but he also realized that he couldn't escape her. No matter where he went, when, and how, she would always take his breath away, just as the first time he saw her. And he loved her, God, how he loved her still.