A/N: I am afraid this will be my last update until I get back from vacation on the 15th, if it's at all possible I will try to update before then, but I make no guarantees. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for continuing with this story and leaving such amazing reviews. I swear this will be the last really heart-wrenching chapter, but it finally leaves our favorite couple on the path to healing. So I hope you all can take some hope in that. Thanks again to A-Lady-to-Me and Terriejane for helping me out with this fic. Again reviews are greatly appreciate, please enjoy!

Part XII

She had been sitting in the tub, for how long she didn't know, nor did she really care. The water still felt somewhat warm, so it couldn't have been for too long. Then again John usually ran it hot for her. Anna just sat there staring at the bar of soap on the edge of the tub, not caring whether or not she scrubbed up. John would probably come in shortly to help her do it anyway. She hated that she had to rely on him to do so or that she was proving to be such a burden for him. He should be off at work and instead she was the reason he was staying home and caring for her like an invalid. Anna was sure the staff at Downton as well as their employers were eagerly awaiting their return and she just didn't see the point in John having to stay home with her when all she did was lie in bed.

Anna had played the days prior to their loss over and over in her head and second guessed herself on all her choices. Maybe it was the impromptu trip to the fair that caused it. Or the way she had continued with the housework that John had advised her against. The stress of her mother's visit couldn't have been good either. She wanted to be mad at her mother, but ultimately she was mad at herself and no one, not even John, could convinced her otherwise. The bathroom was silent, if she listened carefully enough she could hear the sounds of the last remaining bubbles in the water fizzing out. Each one slowly popping and dissolving before her very eyes, much like her hopes for the future. She knew it wasn't right to feel sorry for one's self; it was such a foreign concept to her that it only made her feel more defunct.

Just then there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. "Anna, I'm coming in. I brought you your night gown and towel," John said before slowly turning the handle on the door.

She could hear the desperation in his voice, he may as well have been displaying a physical scar on his heart. His hair always appeared ruffled now, which used to drive her wild with desire, but now it only left her disheartened. Anna knew why it looked the way it did. He had been spending so much time focusing on her that he hadn't been taking care of himself. She was sure the toll the situation had taken on them both had only resulted in him running his hands through his hair more than usual. His five o'clock shadow was now bordering on turning into a full beard. John's large frame filled the bathroom, but he wasn't standing tall and proud like she had become accustomed too. Instead his shoulders sagged and his back was slightly hunched forward; he looked so deflated. And even though it had only been a few short days, she was certain he had lost weight from not eating enough. If it wasn't for her mother bringing them fresh food at each meal she was sure they wouldn't have eaten a thing.

"Are you finished with your bath?" John asked hoping that she had taken it upon herself to wash up. He had insisted he didn't mind helping her, but she knew he would have to return to work in two days. She could see the concern etched on his face; he didn't like the idea of her being so vacant and despondent. Occasionally she would force herself to talk to him, but it seemed all for naught. She didn't want to talk about the past, it was too painful. The future didn't seem too hopeful, so they avoided that subject all together. It seemed they were only stuck in the present. Always the present now. How was she feeling? Was there anything he could do? Was she hungry? Did she want to go outside? This is what their conversations had been reduced to. But no matter what he always told her he loved her and was there for her. She couldn't have asked for a better husband or loved him more.

Their eyes glanced at the bar of soap still sitting where he had left it; bone dry as was the wash cloth. John knelt down alongside the tub and rubbed the soap against the washcloth to lather it up. Normally she would have admonished him for putting such a strain on his bad leg, but she just didn't have it in her to argue with him. He scrubbed her back gently and moved her around almost like a doll or a small child so that he could wash her hair. When he was done she stood up feeling limp and allowed him to help her out of the bath. She raised her arms mechanically so that he could put her nightgown on and when he was done he discarded his cane and lifted her up with little effort and carried her back to their bedroom. He had always known her to be small and light, but somehow she seemed even smaller now within his embrace. Once they were back in their room, he tucked her into bed and left a kiss on her cold cheek that left a feeling of warmth in its absence.

"I'm going to go clean up the bathroom and tend to the laundry. I'll be right back, but call for me if you need anything," he said in a tired voice.

She nodded her head in agreement and listened as he walked out of their bedroom and headed downstairs.

Her mother came into their bedroom shortly after. There had been some exchange of words between her mother and John while they were downstairs, but of what she did not know. Everything seemed to exist in a fog for her; time passed agonizingly slow. The doctor had given her medication for the pain which was nearly gone now and something to help her sleep. Anna didn't know what was worse, dreaming of the baby they didn't have or waking up to find out he was gone.

Helen hadn't come in carrying her usual tray of food or to pick up any discarded clothes that needed washing which could only mean one thing. She wanted to talk. Anna braced herself for whatever it was her mother wanted to say but she would make no promises that she would talk with her.

Her mother looked awkward as she took a seat beside Anna on the bed. Her mother came in still in her pajamas with a shawl draped over her shoulders. Helen's hair hung loosely, slightly unkempt from its usual coif bun. She looked around the room for a bit before letting her eyes settle on Anna and John's wedding photo; Helen hadn't noticed it before in all the times she had come into the bedroom. Probably because some part of her still didn't want to acknowledge that John had married her little girl. Yet the longer she looked at the photo in the frame she could see how incredibly happy John had made her daughter. It was a far cry from the image she was looking at now as her daughter burrowed in defeat.

"I know you still aren't talking to me right now and that's fine. I will do the talking for both of us. I owe you an apology. I feel partly responsible for what happened," Helen said. Anna turned to her with her mouth slightly opened but was unsure of how to respond. "I said some things that I probably shouldn't have said that I know upset you, but I hope you can understand it's only because I care. I just wanted what was best for you," she added. "I can see now how much John loves you and cares for you. I've never seen a more devoted husband."

Anna somehow found the strength to smile at that statement. It wasn't her usual smile, so bright and full of happiness, but it was a start. Deep down she knew her mother wasn't at fault for this, but right now she was mad at the world.

"I've been in your shoes before sweetheart. I know it hurts in the most inexplicable way. It probably means nothing to you now, but you will get through this," her mother said gently. She reached out her hand and placed it on Anna's and for once her daughter didn't pull away. "Anna, I will have to head back to the farm soon, I can stay a little longer if you need me to...but I wondered if you would want to come back with me?" Helen asked and waited for a response from Anna. "I know your brother would love to see you and his wife, Ingrid, is close to your age. It would be so nice to have you back home…"

"No," John interrupted.

Helen had not even noticed that he had walked back into the room. "John, she needs round the clock care," Helen tried to help him see reason.

"Absolutely not. I can care for her just fine," he said harshly. Of all the times he had been doubted for his abilities and second guessed he had bit his tongue, but no more.

"Yes, but you must return to work soon," she pointed out, her hand still resting on top of Anna's. "When will you be able to check on her? In the early morning before she wakes? On a rare afternoon when you can get away from work? Or at night after she's gone to bed?"

"We'll manage. I can work something out with Mrs. Hughes or Lord Grantham to move her back into the Abbey so she can be nearby," he stammered.

"John, you can't think of yourself right now. Think about Anna and her health," Helen said. She looked over at her daughter who sat there in a disconsolate state.

"I am thinking about Anna. We've spent far too much time apart, to take her away from here would destroy her," John argued.

"You're acting as if I'm kidnapping her, I'm merely taking her home temporarily," she retorted.

"She is home. This is her home-our home!" he snapped back and Helen flinched for a moment at the sound of his voice. John came closer to Anna and sat on the opposite side of his mother-in-law as he grabbed his wife's hand. "Darling, remember what you told me all those years ago? You could bear anything but to be away from me," he said looking for some sign of life behind Anna's eyes. "I will take care of you."

Anna's head nodded, but he was unsure if she agreed with him or merely acknowledged she remembered that time in their lives. As much as he hated the thought, deep down he knew that if it's what she really wanted-a break away from all of this, he would grant her that. He would find a way to go on in her absence; he'd wait for her no matter how long it took for her to come back from this. But in his heart, from the very depths of his soul he did not think this was the right thing to do.

"John, I don't doubt your ability to care for her...or your love for her," she admitted. "But right now, she needs an escape from all of this," Helen whispered softly.

"Anna, tell me what you want. Whatever it is love, I'll do it," John encouraged her to speak.

Nothing seemed like the right answer anymore, if such a thing existed. Their house represented loss but she didn't want to be without John. Either way, the universe was urging her to move forward and that would only take her further away from a time and place when they had been happy. She couldn't handle staring at the pained look on John's face any longer and turned to her mother seeking some sort of guidance but still refrained from speaking a single word.

He wouldn't hold it against her if she left. He wouldn't have even held it against her if she didn't want to come back to this place. So long as they were still together he would be satisfied. But Anna's hesitation to make a decision made him believe that she was actually considering leaving the cottage to stay with her mother. John felt the muscles in his chest constricting, tightening almost to the point that it was difficult to breathe. He thought his heart might beat out of his chest before his very eyes. The realization set in that this might finally be the straw that broke the camel's back. They had finally reached their limit and this would be the thing that broke them. He slowly released Anna's hand and excused himself, "I need to get some air." John unbuttoned the top collar button and let out a forced breath as he walked out of the room. He was about to head out the back door to sit on his rocking chair on the porch when a knock at the door forced him to change his course.

John half expected to see Lord Grantham or perhaps Mrs. Hughes at the door when he opened it but was instead met by the postal worker from the village. "Mr. Noland, we don't get many visits from you. What can I do for you sir?" John asked as he tried to regain his composure.

"Well, your order finally showed up and when I saw how heavy it was I thought I'd deliver it for you myself seeing as how you would have your cane to contend with," Mr. Noland said happily.

"My order?" John asked racking his brain.

"Mmmhmm," he said with an eager nod of the head. "It was a bit of a haul up the dirt path, but nothing I couldn't handle. Where would you like it?"

"In the sitting room is fine," he said with a gesture of his hand as he held the door open. But the moment John saw the writing on the outside of the box he knew exactly what it was. The crib. He couldn't risk Anna seeing it. "Actually can you put it on the porch in the back."

"You sure?" Mr. Noland asked after having just set it down.

"I'm sorry to make you move it again. It was supposed to be a surprise," he said sadly.

"Ah, for your missus. Not a problem," Mr. Noland replied. After moving it outside he shook John's hand and accepted his payment for the delivery before leaving. "Have a good day, Mr. Bates," Mr. Noland said over his shoulder as he walked out of sight.

John still stood in the open doorway. "A good day," he said slowly to himself. The words sounded so foreign to him. It was hard to think of a good day, when everything appeared to be clouded in heartache in gloom. He remembered meeting Anna that first day at Downton. He remembered the way she smiled when he brought her that tray in the sleeping quarters. He remembered telling her of his plans for a hotel by the sea and children. He thought of the way she looked the day they pledged their love and lives to one another. It all seemed so long ago now. He had to wonder if he would ever see his wife smile again the way she had on those good days and let out a small cry. It wasn't even audible, but it was enough to give him some relief.

He walked out back and let the door shut with a slam. John crossed his arms and stared at the rather large box as he paced back and forth. Consumed with anger and grief, John tore it open with his bare hands and pulled out the already assembled crib in one swift motion. The abrupt way he set it down, left it rocking slightly on the floorboards of their tiny porch and he suddenly hated it even more. But why? How could something that he had been so sure Anna would love suddenly leave him feeling so sickened, vile, and betrayed? Empty. It was empty. That's what was wrong with it. John suddenly felt a surge of adrenaline and hatred course through his body, his muscles tensed, and his hands clenched his cane until his knuckles turned white. He discarded his cane as it clattered to the floor before kicking the crib across the porch with his good leg. John watched as it slid off the edge and landed on the grass with a thud.

John dragged the crib across the lawn, occasionally slowing down as it knocked against his bad leg, but it did little to deter him. Without even thinking he set it atop the stump that he normally used for chopping firewood and found the axe still settled in the place from the day before. John reared his body back and let the bit of the axe come down with a crushing blow, splitting the top of the crib in two. The tears began to stream down his face. "She didn't deserve this!" he yelled to anyone that would listen. John readied his stance once more, his body lacking form, but the next strike was just as effective. "We didn't deserve this!" The tears were falling more freely now as he pulled back again, causing his shirt to tear, but he didn't notice or care. John could only focus on the crib that had once held so much promise and hope for the future. He didn't care if he was there swinging that axe all night, he didn't want to see that damn crib ever again. "Were we such bad people that we deserved to be punished? To have our baby taken away? Why him?" There were so many unanswered questions. And when the questions he asked continued to go unanswered it only made the anger in him bubble over even more. John let out a guttural groan as he continued to break down the crib, so much so that there was nothing left.

He finally stopped when the axe broke through the crib and landed in the stump beneath it. John pulled so hard to remove the blade of the axe from the stump that the handle broke off. He ended up throwing it into the trees that lined the back of their yard only to fall onto the ground when he knocked himself off balance. His body was racked with sobs as tears mixed with sweat after his exertions.

John suddenly felt a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a familiar weight against his back. She said his name over and over trying to bring him back to her while she stroked his back to calm him. But the tears wouldn't stop. He cried like a baby as they sat there alone in the grass. He turned in her arms to face her and let his head fall against her chest and muttered, "I wish I could have been there. Maybe if we'd gotten you to the doctor sooner…" He continued to cry as she held him, only now they were crying together.

"It's alright my love," Anna whispered into his ear. Having heard the slam of the door from upstairs and the noise that followed Anna had gotten out of bed and watch John have an emotional breakdown from their bedroom window. She came down as quickly as her body would allow her, worried that John had hurt himself. Instead she had to watch him crumble into a heap on the ground as he admonished himself. Anna listened as he went on about how he had failed her countless times; the delay in getting a divorce, the time lost while he was in jail, that if they had bought the hotel they always wanted he would have been closer to her. "It's my job as your husband...I'm supposed to protect you and ensure your happiness. I couldn't even do that," he said as she wiped the tears from his face.

His words struck a chord in her heart and something told her that if she didn't say something now that they would both be lost to this. She took his face in both of her hands and ran her thumbs across his cheeks to calm him and forced him to focus on her, with eyes unblinking. "John. John, listen to me. Are you listening?"

John nodded his head as tears continued to trickle down his face.

"You've made me happier than I could have ever imagined," she said. Her eyes were filled with tears but they were also filled with love. Her tender gaze fell upon him as she said, "I still don't regret a minute of being your wife or falling in love with you. I don't know how to go on right now, but I know I don't want to go on without you."

"Nor I, you," he replied before kissing her cheek.

Helen watched on from the porch as her daughter comforted her son-in-law. She knew that the miscarriage had upset them both but she had not realized how much it affected John. He had hardly said anything after they lost the baby and she had assumed that his tears had been all in the name of Anna. Now she saw that his tight lipped resolve was all for the sake of staying strong for her daughter. These last few days had been a lesson in love for her as she observed his unending devotion towards Anna, the reassuring way in which he spoke, and the soft manner in which he touched and held her. Helen knew then that she had been wrong. He may not have been the most perfect person on paper, but they were made for each other. She couldn't have picked a better man for her daughter.