As I mentioned in the last chapter, the length of chapter slows down in the last few chapters as the action speeds up so apologies for length. Speaking of apologies, sorry for such a large gap between chapters. There is a longer explanation on my tumblr, but basically through illness and travel plans I've been later to post than normal. I've basically written the final chapter twice over, but I still don't feel comfy with it yet- after all how do you put an ending on all of this? I can tell you that it will be 20 chapters + an epilogue, so we really aren't too far from the end.

Hope your holidays are well! I'm working a holiday fic for secret santa, so keep your eyes peeled for that in a few weeks :)

Chapter 17: Phase 17- Everything Falls Apart

Things felt blurry for a moment. Sybil's whimpers were the only sound in the hallway. Cora was pulling up an article on her iPad, Mary and Matthew sinking down onto the hallway floor to read it.

Tom, with the help of Gwen, had hacked into e-mails and text messages from Larry to members of his campaign staff. Larry had planned to marry Sybil in order to get money for his campaign. He had been faking his affection for Sybil the whole time. The language used in his e-mails made it clear that he didn't see her for than a pawn on his way to achieve success.

Mary felt her blood boil. Sybil deserved so much more than all this. She deserved someone who truly loved her. She deserved to have success, not because of her father's money, but because of her own hard work and ambition. She could honestly kill Larry Grey. Who was he to see Sybil for anything less than the marvel that she was?

Sybil let out a sob when Mary put the iPad down.

"Oh Sybil," Mary said, the sympathy leaking through her voice.

"That's disgusting," Matthew said.

"It's humiliating, heartbreaking," Sybil whined.

"You're upset?" Mary asked.

Sybil nodded with a sniffle.

"Come let's walk," Mary said, offering her hand to pull her close and then putting an arm around her.

"What should I do?" Matthew asked, evidently earnestly wanting to be helpful.

"Calm Cora down," Mary nodded at her mother's fuming figure, "Then figure out where Tom's gotten off to."

"Can do," Matthew said, giving her a salute, and a kiss.

They began to wander down the hallways, till they found the grand staircase. The house felt spooky now, with the corridors empty, but the whispers of gossip, the tension of scandal palpable throughout the building. Mary found the door the library open and was relieved to find it empty. She and Sybil settled on the couch there.

"Did you know about it?" Sybil asked, "About the things Tom found."

"I knew that he thought something suspicious was going on," Mary admitted, "But not exactly what. I knew he was going to try to change your mind. I didn't know it was going to be like this."

"He gave me a chance to cancel the wedding before he published," Sybil said.

"Why didn't you just cancel?" Mary asked, tilting her head to take her sister in. Then smiled, despite their differences, Mary knew why Sybil hadn't cancelled. "You're too stubborn for your own good."

"I just wanted to make a decision for myself. I feel like no one trusts me, no one thinks I can know my own mind," Sybil said.

"Sybil, there are other ways to make a statement to our family than to marry a horrible guy," Mary said, "Especially when that means being stuck to him forever. Did sign a prenup?"

Sybil shook her head dismally.

"Then you are so so lucky you got out of that," Mary said, honestly.

"I feel so used," Sybil murmured.

"I'm sure," Mary said. She was silent for a moment, flashes of her past dancing before her eyes. She hadn't thought of them much since she'd punched her ghosts in the face, but the trauma they caused her was something that would carry forever. She knew how Sybil felt. "That's how I felt with Tony, with Kemal. I felt like I wasn't worth anything."

Mary opened her arms to let Sybil snuggle beside her.

"But I had to teach myself that it wasn't true."

"You had Matthew to do that," Sybil said.

"Matthew is great. I'm lucky to have had his unwaivering support. But I've had to teach myself that on my own. You don't need romantic love to solve your problems, you have to start by learning to love yourself," Mary told her, wiping a tear from Sybil's face.

"But it's so embarrassing," Sybil groaned.

"I know, I know," Mary soothed, brushing her hair. "I hate say this, but you've many a scandal ahead of you. People will laugh when you get your heart broken. People will ridicule you if you look ill, if you gain weight, if you wear the wrong color. We didn't ask for this life, but it's the one we've been handed. You can decide to let it all bring you down, to obsess over headlines, or live beyond it. I'm not saying this is something I'm good at doing, but I've been getting better lately."

"I just can't believe I'll have to look at this headline on every magazine in line at Target, or every time I turn on twitter," Sybil moaned, "Have you seen some of the stuff that's come out already? 'How could Official_Sybil_Crawley not realize he was using her for his money? Further proof the Crawley's are stupider than a brick.' Or here is a brilliant one, 'I thought Sybil was smarter than her hoebag sister. Guess not. Crawely girls are best married off where real men can control the money.'"

"It really sucks," Mary said, "You've every right to be mad. To hate the press, to hate Larry, to hate Tom, to hate anyone. But don't listen to the haters and don't hate yourself." Mary hugged her tighter, "Because you are really worth so much more than any terrible man makes you feel. You are so smart. You are so kind. I hope everyone comes to know that about you. And if they don't, I cherish the fact that I've gotten to the privilege of knowing the real Sybil Crawley."

Sybil began to cry harder, but Mary just rubbed her back soothingly. The worst part was over for Sybil: the raw, brutal, public heartbreak. It was now just helping her ride out of the pain.

Nearly an hour had passed, Matthew had helped Cora back to her room and called for some tea for her. He'd texted Rose, who he assumed was much better at calming middle-aged women.

He began meandering the corridors in search of Tom. He didn't know anything about the building at all, so he didn't have any real good guess as to where his best friend would be.

How could Tom have done this? He realized that there was something heroic about stopping an intelligent, but naïve girl from marrying a total bastard, but Tom had caused total chaos for the family. If Matthew had learned anything so far, it was that the Crawleys hated chaos- especially when it involved the press. Tom hds very, clearly evoked the press on this one.

But Matthew's true malice was for Larry. Larry had been nothing but cruel and manipulative to Sybil. He had very seriously intended to ruin her life, her future, her ambitions. The very notion made his blood boil. He'd become fond of his girlfriend's little sister in the time he'd come to know her. He knew she could accomplish anything she dreamed of if she put her mind to it.

He set off through a few hallways, looking aimlessly for Tom. He was now regretting leaving his phone in his room. It would have been much easier to just text him. He decided to double back, turning when he reached the lobby to head back up the stairs.

As he climbed them, he looked up to see a startled looking Larry coming down them quickly.

Matthew stepped in front of them.

"If you don't mind," Larry said, hostility clear in his tone, "I'd like to make a hasty exit."

"Running into the night with your tail between your legs?" Matthew said, his voice sour.

"Look, I did what I could to succeed. You're a lawyer, you know," Larry told him.

"No, I don't know at all. I've based my life upon being the defender of the downtrodden. I strive for something more in my life than stealing money from young girls," Matthew said, stepping closer.

"Oh don't be so proud," Larry spat, "Pure, good humanitarian Matthew? Don't pretend that you are motivated by money as much as I am."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Matthew asked, his head spinning. Did he really think that Matthew was dating Mary for the money?

But of course, that was how it had begun. At one time, Matthew had been dating Mary for the money. They'd come so far since then, it was easy to forget the underlining financial motivation for the endeavor. Matthew had kept the secret, telling only Tom and his mother. He knew Mary had been just as vigilant about guarding the secret. Surely there was no way that it had gotten out.

Yet, Larry stood before him, wagging his sinister eyebrows.

"Tom what-ever-his-name-is isn't the only one who can hack into an inbox," Larry shot, "And he's an amateur journalist. I have friends in much higher places. Don't think I can't ruin your entire life."

"That's an empty threat," Matthew said, "I think you're bluffing. You know nothing about me or my motivations. But I know a lot about you. I know you are the kind of person who thinks of nothing but yourself. I know you are manipulative and vile. I honestly believe that no matter what the Crawley's are better off without you."

"Is that so? Let's just see, shall we?" Larry said, his voice intense with rage, "See how much the Crawley's come to regret crossing me."

He stormed down the hall, suitcase still in hand, and let the door slam. Matthew stood there, jaw open, watching him leave. He thought numbly that Larry Grey was the closest thing he'd experienced on earth to cartoon villain and was quite happy to see the last of him.

It was an hour later when they found their way back to their room. Mary had finally coaxed Sybil to bed. She was definitely upset, but she was calm enough to fall into a fitful sleep.

Mary was happy to open the door to their room and see her boyfriend sitting up on the bed waiting for her. He looked slightly rumpled and tired, his hair sticking up in strange directions. She imagined she must look the same way. She wanted to be in bed asleep with him as soon as possible.

"How is she?" Matthew asked, as Mary slipped off her dressing gown and hung it in the closet.

"She's crestfallen," Mary said, "But at least she is peaceful enough to sleep."

"That's good," Matthew replied, reaching out his hand to pull her towards him.

"I must admit, it is nice to have a scandal that isn't about me," Mary said, "Though I am so horrified this all unfolded for Sybil."

She climbed into bed, letting their bodies fall back among the covers, tucking themselves in. The bed was comfortable, and she felt even safer as Matthew's arms came rest around her.

"Did you find Tom?" She asked, drowsily.

"No, I didn't," Matthew said, biting his lip.

"Do you think he's run off into the night?" Mary asked.

"I know that Larry has," Matthew admitted.

"Really?" Mary asked.

"I ran into him on the way out," Matthew told her, "He was menacing as always."

"Well, I'm happy we are finally rid of him," Mary remarked, "We've endured the storm."

"I'm not quite sure it's blown over," Matthew said, "Larry said some things that were really concerning."

"What do you mean?" Mary said. She was so sleepy, yet in her stomach, a tendril of anxiety was beginning to spin.

"He kept implying that I had the same scandal about me, like he knew about the financial reasons for how this relationship began," Matthew detailed.

"But surely he can't? We've kept that secret carefully wrapped. It's probably just an empty threat," Mary said, "And besides, I'm sleeply. We can brave that storm in the morning."

Matthew kissed her head, "Good night, my storm braver."

Matthew wondered if it was becoming a habit to wake to a racket. His phone was buzzing loudly, as was Mary's. Matthew had some sort of awareness that it had been buzzing for quite a while now. Sleep seemed far for more luscious than any sort of interaction with whoever might be trying to reach him.

He tried to blink his eyes open. Mary was lying beside him. A few stray rays of light were pouring in, illuminating a thin line of light across her body- her eyes closed softly, her lips pursed peacefully, her dark hair sprayed around her in elegant disarray. He thought of all the times he'd been so lucky to wake up beside her. It never got old to him. He could always find some new bit of her beauty to revel in. He wanted to hold on to each of these precious moments, but he had the comfort of knowing that they weren't at risk of disappearing. This was a long-term love.

At that very thought of consistency, his stomach churned. A tiny voice in the back of his head cried, "That's what you thought about Lavinia. You thought you'd have her forever and look what happened." He should know better than to think that any bit of love or domesticity was anything but ephemeral.

So, he reached out and brushed a hand through her hair, her eyes blinking open in an echo to his touch.

The phones were still buzzing.

"Why is it that we can't get a moment of rest?" Mary whined.

"This is rather burdensome, isn't it?" Matthew said.

There was a moment of silence between them. Just the soft silk of her hair between his fingers.

"Do you think that you were right?" Mary said, her works making his stomach plumet again, "About the storm not being over?"

Matthew swallowed, thinking about the delicacy of this moment. All of sudden it felt like everything they had could be blown away in an instant.

"It could just be people commenting on Sybil's wedding," Matthew suggested, hopefully.

"Matthew, the last time our phones were buzzing this much, it was because there was a scandal about us," Mary said, her voice both practical and worried, "You heard Larry's threats last night. He might have a story out there on us."

"Mary," Matthew said, "Whatever the phones say, know that I love you. I love you, always."

Mary stared at him, fear shining back at him.

"I love you too," She said, as if something was stuck her throat.

The phones continued to cackle with their buzzing. Calls and texts filtering in. Their sound created a backdrop of tension between them.

"There is no scandal we can't handle," He told her, letting his voice sound brave. "Our very relationship was bourn out of scandal."

"That's true, isn't it," Mary remarked.

"I've told you darling," Matthew said, "There isn't a storm we can't brave."

"If you insist," Mary said, giving Matthew a weak smile.

"Shall we just open them?" Matthew asked.

"Wait," she said, "One thing first."

She leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth. He knew that Mary Crawley wasn't a fan of open mouth kisses in the morning, she was too particular about morning breath. But in this moment, she initiated the kiss, letting her tongue tangle with his. He knew her well enough to appreciate the vulnerability of her action.

He gathered her in his arms, squeezing her tightly. Her hands came to rest on his face. She pulled back and let the tip of her nose touch his.

"You are mine, Mary," Matthew said, firmly, "Whatever we read on our phones, whatever the media says. It won't change that."

"I know," she said, "I believe you."

They nodded slowly at each other, before moving their hands to grab their respective phones.

The screen illuminated to show a blur of texts from co-workers, friends from uni, cousins, and old acquaintances. None of these people seemed to care before, but now that some unknown scandal had erupted about him- everyone seemed to have something to say.

Is it true?

Did you actually not know?

Wow. You had us all fooled buddy. But it looks like she had you fooled too.

Yikes. Hope you are okay, man.

Did you see this? Is it true?

That text was linked to an article complete with a video, reported by Richard Carlisle. Matthew looked at his phone. It was nearing 10AM, which meant it couldn't be later that 5AM in New York. Richard must have reported it on while they were sleeping, while it was still night in America.

The video sprang to life automatically. Carlisle's weasel-like voice piercing their room. He looked over his phone for an instant to see Mary's body petrify. He lifted the phone between them so they both could see.

"Tonight's story concerns the chronic harlot Mary Crawley and the fourth scandal to haunt her name this year. This story stems from her relationship with Matthew Crawley, of so-called no relation, which began this spring. The relationship turned heads from the start, as it began shortly after Mary's careless wiles destroyed the Foyle-Lane-Fox Marriage. Many believed it was too soon for Mary to dive into another relationship when she had just ruined another couple's marriage. The relationship also turned heads as it seemed that Matthew Crawley's humanitarian sensibilities did not match with Mary Crawley's risqué ones. Yet, their relationship gathered support after their early photographs around New York City, then later in Paris, Cannes, and London. After Matthew Crawley's devious punch at Foyle and Pamuk at Atticus Aldrige's Wimbledon After Party, the relationship gained increased popularity. Mary even tried to play the humanitarian alongside Matthew, traveling to Burundi to work on a line of purses whose proceeds would go to Matthew's charity."

Matthew felt his body coarse with rage, because he knew how this story was going to twist. He knew what came next in this tale. He knew how it was going to look to others watching.

"However, despite the fame that his couple has seemed to garner, there has been a cruel twist to their happily ever after. The relationship is not the idyllic thing it was once perceived as. In fact, it turns out the entire thing was orchestrated by Robert Crawley in a pathetic attempt to redeem Mary's reputation. A series of e-mails released to us by an anonymous source, revealed that Matthew Crawley was to be paid a half million dollars to pose as Mary's boyfriend for the course of five months. He evidently accepted the offer. After all, his charity was to help those with rare tropical diseases. How could he say no?"

Matthew let out a grunt of anger. He didn't want to listen any longer, but he couldn't look away. He was going to look like a sellout. He was going to look weak and easily bribed. If only the audience knew their relationship. If only they could understand the love that blossomed out of the situation.

"If you are sitting here watching this report, you might be scratching your head. If you look at any picture of this couple you'll see nothing but affection radiating from their faces. Indeed they look a vision of true love. However, even this is a lie. Matthew Crawley has, since the very beginning, been merely a pawn in Mary Crawley's hand."

Matthew's stomach felt a jab of fear. Mary's eyes looked up him with pure horror plastered in them. For the first time, Matthew wondered if it was fear of a falsified scandal or fear of a true one. Could this be real?

Mary's hand quickly raised to pause the video. Carlisle's speech halted and leaving silence ringing between them.

"We don't need to watch anymore," Mary said, quickly.

Matthew felt his fear and anger merge together. This overpowering emotion suddenly directed itself at Mary. His trust for her was sliding through his fingers.

"Why?" He asked, "Why, Mary? God, is there something you are keeping from me?"

"I can explain," Mary said rushed, her voice catching again, "Let me explain."

Matthew couldn't look at her a second later. He clicked play as Mary let out a sigh of seeming disappointment and resignation.

"Leaked e-mails reveal that since an apparent rocky first date, Mary has been faking attraction to Matthew on orders of her father. The e-mail dated in April reads, 'To be honest, Mary, I think this would work best if you tried to get him to fall in love with you. If you spend the whole time faking it you'll both make yourselves miserable. I know you hate this idea, but if you can at least make him enjoy it, you'll make it less painful for the both of you.' This same concept is later repeated in a May e-mail that read, 'Like I said before, if at all possible, make him fall in love with you. I know that you don't care for him, but if he can care for you- it will make the whole thing more authentic.' It appears that Matthew Crawley fell for Mary's ploy, like so many others have done. Hopefully our report helps him to see Mary Crawley for the serial scandal that she is. We just hope that the Crawley's at least pay out Matthew despite the cruel end to the scandal. At least it will have a happy ending for children with rare tropical disease- and all those who shamelessly enjoy following the Mary Crawley scandals."

Matthew let the phone drop onto the bed. His hands were shaking. He extracted himself from the bed, pushing back the sheets and climbing out in one sweeping movement. He was standing looking down at Mary whose eyes were lit with anxiety.

"Matthew-," she began.

He was wearing just his boxers, feeling exposed. Mary was still lying on the bed below, the balance between then falling out of equilibrium. He needed to get space from her. His trust for her was crumbling like dust.

"Is it true?" He asked.

She sat up, the sheets slipping from her shoulders. Her hair was mused, her eyes were sleep creased. It had seemed endearing moments ago, but now it frustrated him. Everything about her frustrated him. He hated it because he didn't want to be frustrated by her. He wanted to love her. He did. He did. But he didn't. It was falling all apart, everything between them slipping through his fingers.

"Of course not," Mary protested, but then she looked down, her face distraught, "But well yes actually."

He couldn't hold back his disappointed grunt.

"Wait, listen though, that's how it started-" She began again.

He couldn't believe this. "That's what they always say. In fucking movie like this. My life is just bit of entertainment, isn't it? Just a fucking movie. I can't listen to this."

He ran his hand through his hair and went to look out the window. The sweeping grounds of the estate were before him. He felt weirdly disjointed here now. This space, though intimidating before, was safe because of Mary's presence. But now that things between them had become unsettled, everything around him felt menacing. Everything was a threat. Nothing could be trusted.

"To have made all of this work, you'd have to be a good a liar. Are you a good liar?" He asked, more rhetorically than anything.

He turned back to see Mary had risen from the bed now. She was bent over her suitcase to rummage through it.

"Matthew, honestly, have some sense," She said, tugging off her shorts for a pair of leggings, "Do you actually think that we would have shared the moments we have shared if I didn't love you? If I didn't really care for you?"

She pulled off her silky camisole, a hooded jumper in her hand. She put it down on the bed. She was standing before him in just her bra, her legs framed with the dark fabric of the leggings. He could see where her ribs jutted out, below that the flat plans of her trim stomach. Her breasts were just above, hanging tantalizingly before him, her red bra making her pale skin stand out. She looked lovely as ever, but he felt a wall forming between them. He couldn't trust her. He couldn't.

She took a step between towards him. He noticed her hand was trembling. She lifted it to his cheek, just letting the lightest tips of the pads of her fingers touch him. As he if he might break, might disappear.

"Do you truly, after everything, doubt that I have feelings for you?" Mary asked.

A tear had managed to trickle out of her eye.

"I don't know what to believe," Matthew said, "I can't read those e-mails, hear that report, and be able to believe you."

"But I don't understand," Mary said, the tears beginning to flow freely down her cheeks, "Nothing has changed."

He steeled himself, trying to not let her display affect him, as he choked out, "Everything's changed."

It was so hard because he had believed in their relationship so fiercely. Now it all felt paper-thin. It felt tarnished. Matthew realized that there were tears in his eyes too.

"So I've ruined everything," Mary said softly.

"You've showed me I've been living a dream," He said, "And it's time to return to real life."

There was a knock on the door. Mary shoved the jumper over her head.

"Excuse me, Mr. and Ms. Crawley," A voice said, the statement making both of them jump and stare at each other, "I'm just letting you know that Robert Crawley CEO has just landed on the helipad. He'll be with you momentarily."

Robert Crawley. The Robert Crawley. After all of it, he was going to finally meet him- now, just as everything fell apart.

He glanced at Mary, but her gaze was far off, as if she was piecing things together. Then a second later, she was shoving things into her bag: Her phone, wallet, and a few other things. She looked up at Matthew one last time, sniffled, then sprinted into hallway without another word.

"Tell them to hold the heli," he heard her shout down the hall.

I think this last scene has been in my head since this fic idea appeared in my head. There was something about the fake dating trope (and the way those plots tend to blow up) that had me instantly envisioning a version of their Season 1 Finale fight. While I adore Matthew, he has this temper and ability to over react that we only get glimpses of throughout the series, but when we do- it's quite painful.