Seamless, it had been seamless. One moment Matthew had been speeding along his life forever changed now that he was a father to a son. He looked up at the sky and saw the wondrous blue, the next moment he saw blue again in the eyes of his own father. That couldn't be, his father was long dead. The realization that he too was now dead didn't sit well with him. He raged at the injustice of it. He shouted with pure venom. Lashing out at his father out of convenience. Reginald allowed his son his anger until he gently said,
Enough."
That one word was enough for Matthew to settle, that was the one word his father said to him during his tantrums. The rage morphed to sadness as he cried over his own death. The last time his father had held as he wept he had been just a small child.
Reginald, Sybil and many others knew the pain he was feeling. Sybil had felt it more than Reginald had. Unlike the others Reginald had known he was dying. This awareness had allowed him a broader perspective to review his life. Age was creeping up on him and he felt himself grow weak. Physician's had an odd habit of dismissing their own symptoms. If a patient had presented with his symptoms he would have had them sent to hospital. Days later he suffered a heart attack managing to survive but in the days after he could feel himself slowly leave his body. When death had come it was simply the natural end to his journey, the next thing to do on his list. Sybil and Matthew had been unaware and unprepared for their demise. Sybil hadn't been lucid during her transition, the grueling labor and then the eclampsia had robbed her of her senses leaving only pain. When the pain had stopped she had discovered that she had made the transition.
For Matthew it had been instantaneous and he hadn't felt a thing. One moment he was in his car, the next he was face to face with his father.
At the hospital Clarkson broke out the sedatives. No doubt there would be plenty who would be in need of them. Cora refused to be sedated, she welcomed the insomnia. She busied herself with Mary, trying to get her to eat. In the end it was a threat from Doctor Clarkson that got her to eat.
Mary hadn't uttered a word since learning of Matthew's death. She nodded or shook her head to communicate. She watched as family members came and went all of them whispering platitudes. After the fourth person sat by her bed she was bored with it all. All she wanted was to be left alone, yet she wasn't. People sat next to her and said pure nonsense. To register a protest she refused food. It was the only way she felt in control of anything! Her husband was dead, she once again belonged to her father. Everyone seemed to be making decisions for her, the only thing she could control was what and if she ate. A figure passed by the glass door. Mary looked up and saw the Doctor enter the ward, his white coat capturing her attention.
Before her was the standard hospital tray with food. The nurses had warned her that she would need to eat to keep her milk supply up. The baby was not gaining weight, it had been a week and he had yet to regain his birth weight. If this carried on they would either need to find a wet nurse or begin the percentage method. Clarkson wasn't worried about the baby, one way or another he would be fed. It was Mary he was concerned with. Cora had tried bribing Mary with her favorite foods and the nurses had tried cajoling her to take a few bites here and there. Clarkson was reaching the end of his limits. He eyes raked over her tray seeing that it was untouched, swiftly he retrieved the clipboard from the foot of the bed and began writing orders on it.
"If this food isn't gone in half an hour I will personally force feed you." He told her. Clarkson had performed it once on a psychiatric patient during one of his rotations. It was a procedure he hoped he would never have to repeat.
As she looked up at him she could see that his eyes held the same pain that she knew hers held. While Matthew wasn't his husband she knew that Clarkson loved his Mother and perhaps Matthew too. All he had ever tried to do was help, she thought of Sybil and the night she had died. Doctor Clarkson had shouted his case. From the look he wore he wouldn't be on the losing side ofanymore arguments. She grabbed the sandwich and took a bite. This was the only victory that Clarkson seemed to have. Isobel wasn't speaking to him he didn't take it personally, she wasn't speaking to anyone for that matter.
The only sounds she had made since Matthew's death had been sobs. She cried in the bathtub, she cried over the teakettle, she cried in her husbands's arms. She slept fitfully only a half hour here and there. Truth be told Isobel was afraid to sleep, she didn't want to dream. She didn't want to see Matthew and then wake only for him to be gone a second time. The armchair in the cottage seemed to be her permanent place. Tonight she sat watching the fire that Richard had lit. Her thighs registered a weight looking down she saw a tray with a bowl of soup. Looking up she saw her husband, he looked haggard. Patients all day at the hospital only to come home to another patient.
"How are you?" She asked her voice croaking since she hadn't used it in about ten days.
He leaned on the wall next to the fire, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not going to lie...I'm tired I could use some rest."
"I'm sorry." She answered, she knew that she too had had a hand in his fatigue.
He stood up, "You can make it up to me...eat."
Picking up her spoon she did as she was asked. He smiled at another victory with food as his ally.
No one at the Abbey was sleeping either, there were arrangements to be made. Graspies had taken Matthew to prepare him for burial. The plot needed to be secured and since the heir of Grantham was to be buried a large headstone needed to be ordered. Lawyers had descended onto Downton as well and Lord Robert had cloistered himself with them. The servants were busy and Cora split her time between letter writing and Mary.
The day came for the burial and the whole of Downton seemed to be present. Mary ignored them all while she was eatting she had still refused to speak. Isobel openly wept as her son's coffin was lowered into the ground. To her this was the truly the end of her son. When his body was at the hospital and then at Graspies she could almost convince herself that he was just at the Abbey or at his Law Office in Ripon. Knowing that his body was in the oak casket, to have the earth piled on top, for him to never return finally had reduced her to tears.
That night as she got ready for bed she asked for a sedative.
"Are you sure?" Richard asked, he noted that she was nearly dead on her feet. She should have no trouble sleeping.
"Yes, I want a powder. I don't want to dream." She said softly and he understood. His bag was opened and he retrieved the powder and mixed it up with care making sure there were no clumps. He got into bed and Isobel followed. She arranged herself against him and drank down the mixture. His warm hand came over hers to take the glass away. Within minutes she was asleep and he held her. Hoping the powder and his presence would be enough to keep the dreams away.
With his wife asleep Richard too closed his eyes. Would Matthew appear? He hadn't had a chance at resuscitation. Richard had known the instant the men had carried in Matthew's body. It had hung limply, the chest not moving and his skin already fading to an ash color. All he could do was place the body on a bed in the back and clean him up. Wiping the the blood from his brow and mouth. He had pulled down the eyelids closing the once vibrant blue eyes now dull with the pupils fixed and wide. After his face had been cleaned Richard had taken a comb and had gently removed the earth that had lodged in his hair. Matthew's neck had been broken as well as good number of his ribs from the weight of the car. If his neck snapping hadn't killed him instantly then the rib piercing the heart would have done it. There were no nightstick or other defensive wounds letting Richard know that Matthew hadn't seen it coming, death had been quick.
When Isobel had returned to the hospital after announcing the birth of the new heir Richard had been waiting for her. Over the years he had broken the news of death to countless people. He watched as the joy on her face turned to suspicion. When he approached her she retreated. Finally he had taken hold of her arms. When she was still he finally led her down the corridor so she could see her son.
A chair had been placed by the bed and she sat it in. Her fingers shaking as she reached out and adjusted his hair on his brow. Richard watched her and thought of Sybil, how she had warned him.
Take care of those you love doctor.
A/N: All have asked for this to continue so it shall. Again I am no mind reader.