Sorry for the delay, but my trip was exhausting and afterwards so much Downton stuff happened… I'm not too happy with the way this chapter turned out, but before I spent another week or two trying to make it better I rather post it now and hope the next one will be better again.

31st December 2012

It felt odd to wake up on the last day of a year. Charles had always thought that time passing was one of the most confusing things to experience. Even more so now, for he had woken up on the first day of 1912 three hundred sixty-five days ago and now watched the sunrise on the last day of 2012. He was leaning back in one of the rocking chairs, his eyes taking in the sight of the sun colouring the horizon in all shades of red and pink.

After Christmas he had read Simon's book which had strongly felt like reading his own biography. Considering that the main focus was on the years from 1880 to 1920 that shouldn't have surprised him. His very own story had been told on almost two hundred pages of Downton history. And it had brought him back to his old life. His routines. His believes. His achievements. And back to the people he had known all his life. Back to those he had trained or watched growing up. And there was one thing he had looked for while reading, one very important thing Elsie believed existed, but he himself was unable to find: A reason for being sent to 2012. What had been wrong with his life? What had lacked? A wife? Children? He had been happy without that. He had chosen a different life and he had never regretted it. Before he had been hit by Elsie's car he had considered a different life with Alice and in the last month with Phyllis. Now he thought life as Elsie's best friend was what he wanted if he didn't get back. And still he didn't see any real reason for being here. Everything had been fine, even if it did get lonely. His job had never failed to keep him busy, his mind occupied with different thoughts.

"Brooding again, are we?", Elsie asked.

Charles startled, his head snapping to her. After a moment he had calmed, forming a reply. "Yes, I was lost in thought."

She handed him a cup of tea which he gratefully accepted. "I hope you weren't awake all night", she wondered, sitting down next to him.

"No, I woke early and thought it would be nice to watch the sun rise", he said.

"Well, as long as you are able to stay awake until one or two next year", she teased.

"I've gone nights without sleep and managed to stay awake and serve the Crawleys", he replied with a smirk.

"Fair enough", she laughed. "Will you join us for the stroll through York?"

"Sure", he said.

"The city is great on New Year's Eve", she assured him.

"I have no doubt. I'm rather looking forward to your New Year's Eve traditions", he replied.

"Are you?", she asked. "I'm glad to hear that."

"I've enjoyed Christmas with your family and friends", he said.

"They are also you're friends and in a sense your family, I suppose", she pointed out, a little worried that she had overstepped a little by suggesting that Tommy and she were his family.

He thought for a moment, then looked at her with the hint of a smile on his lips and a bit of sadness in his eyes. "You're right." They sipped their tea in silence then, but Elsie couldn't help but observe him. To this point she had never thought about what he might feel for her, but simply thought that he saw her as a friend. Now she wasn't so sure that this was how he felt about her. Could he love her? They got along perfectly except for the arguments she had started to keep him on arm's length. And she knew he loved Tommy. Elsie began to play through the scenarios that might occur if she told him about her feelings. He wouldn't be mean or hurt her intentionally, that wasn't him. That left two options: Either he would be taken aback and tell her that he just saw her as a friend or that he loved her too. There wasn't much she could lose, was there? In the end, she would only know one more thing about him and their relationship.

"I've read Simon's book", he said suddenly, breaking her thoughts. After a moment of letting that information sink in she replied: "That explains the brooding."

He nodded. "I read about my life, my old life. And I've started thinking about it again. I sort of lived life until Christmas without looking back, but I think that was wrong. It's a part of me, I should look."

"May I read the book next?", she inquired.

"Are you sure you want to?", he asked.

"If that means I get to know you better and what was before we met, then yes", she replied without hesitation.

"You really care so much?"

"About you?", she asked. "Yes, I do", she added softly.

"Thank you for that", he said rather stiff.

"And you? Do you… care about me?", she asked carefully.

His eyebrows moved towards each other a little. "I do. You are my best friend."

And there she had her answer and though it hurt, she felt better knowing it.

…

It hadn't snowed much after Christmas, allowing the group of five to have a nice stroll along the minster. Gwen had spotted an Asian restaurant and left to get them fortune cookies. Tommy was excitingly telling them about a scout coming to Downton Cricket Club in spring. The boy was hoping to be taken on the junior England team. Charles very strongly believed that he had the potential and he knew that Thomas would agree. Becky and Elsie were chatting about Becky's relationship with Michael which went well and Becky couldn't help herself but tease Elsie about moving things with Charles to the next level since it had been nearly nine months.

They returned to Elsie's car at dusk. Charles was sitting in the front with her, leaving Becky to be squashed between the children. Elsie stopped by the Italian restaurant in Downton and returned with three extra-large pizzas. Back at Elsie's they sat down around the small table in the sitting room, eating their pizza while zapping through the channels until it was time for Dinner for One*. Charles tried very hard to disapprove of the butler and his lack of professionalism, but with four people hysterically laughing around him that was impossible. Only at the end he stopped laughing, being a little shocked at the deeper relationship between the lady and her head of staff.

Afterwards they played a game of who am I? which Charles always lost since he had no idea who the people whose names he got glued to his forehead were. He was better at Uno though, feeling Elsie's wrath when she had to take sixteen cards because of him. At some point Becky opened a bottle of Irish whisky and put on a CD by Train. When Bruises started playing she suggested dancing and asked Tommy to do so with her, leaving Charles to choose between Gwen who was rolling her eyes at her mother and Elsie who was enjoying herself.

He offered her his hand. "I'm not sure I can dance to this, but I hope you don't mind."

Elsie laughed. "I don't mind. Just forget your traditional dancing and improvise."

Charles took a little until he had the hang of moving to the song freely, but eventually he was holding Elsie's hands and simply moved with the rhythm. Elsie and Becky started singing along and Charles could only marvel at how carefree they were in this moment.

Time was flying like this and they nearly weren't ready to toast the New Year when the first explosions of fireworks let them know that it was midnight. They hurried into the garden and watched the spectacle in the night sky. Becky smirked when she saw that Charles had put one arm around Elsie and the other around Tommy.

…

It was nearly one when each took a fortune cookie and cracked them open to receive the small piece of paper from inside. "You first, Els", Becky said.

"Fine", Elsie replied and dramatically put on her reading glasses. "It doesn't matter how you say it. Only that it's understood", she read.

"Say what?", Tommy asked confused.

"I have no idea, anything probably. Don't waste too much time thinking on how to say something, just make sure that it's understood", Elsie interpreted.

"Alright, teacher, stop the analyzing right there", Becky told her. "Tommy, you're next."

Tommy excitingly unfolded his piece of paper. "Dreams do come true, but not always when we expect it."

"Looks like you have got something to look forward to this year", Elsie said.

"I hope it has something to do with cricket and Charles becoming…", he stopped.

"Becoming what?", Elsie asked.

"Nothing", Tommy said. "I forgot."

"Me next", Charles interrupted, before Elsie pressed Tommy for an answer. "Sometimes the place where we belong is a long way from the place we consider home."

"Sounds like Charles is going to experience a coming home moment this year", Becky said, winking at Elsie who only rolled her eyes. "Your humour is your best companion. Keep it!", Becky read. "Well, that's true."

"I'll never be spared your teasing, right?", Elsie asked.

"Don't be ridiculous. The moment I stop teasing you, you'd miss it", Becky answered.

"Would I?", Elsie wondered, arching her left eyebrow.

Becky shrugged with a cheeky smile on her lips and turned to Gwen. "What did you get?"

"Happiness is there for the taking", Gwen read disinterested.

"Well, let's hope the year turns out as well as these fortune cookies predict", Becky said. "And now I think it's time for you two to go to bed", she told Gwen and Tommy who grumbled in protest, but got up and walked upstairs.

"Oh, and I still have a surprise!", Becky remembered, getting up from her chair and digging something out of her bag. Elsie couldn't see what it was, but she didn't have a good feeling when her sister moved around the table and stood behind Charles and Elsie, holding the thing over their heads. They both looked up simultaneously, their mouths gaping open in shock at the sight of the mistletoe hanging from Becky's hand. She, of course, was grinning broadly. "I'm not letting you two start this year without a kiss."

"Becky…!", Elsie growled.

"I'm not sure it counts when you hold it above two people's heads", Charles said, sounding flustered.

"It does count!", Becky insisted.

"It's not Christmas anymore", Elsie reminded her sister.

"So what?", Becky challenged. "Come on, you two are best friends."

Elsie opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped by Charles who knew Becky wouldn't stop teasing until they had done as asked. He had moved a little too quick and not aimed too well while Elsie had also moved her head slightly, so his lips met the corner of her mouth instead of her cheek. His nose bumped against the soft skin of her cheek and she let out a surprised "Oh".

"Well done, Charlie boy!", Becky exclaimed happily. "Happy New Year and good night you two!" She disappeared rather quickly, hoping that things got a little heated behind her. But Charles and Elsie were just sitting there in awkward silence. Elsie's heart was beating wildly and her skin tingled where his lips had touched her skin. Charles was uncomfortable, feeling stupid for failing to simply kiss her on the cheek. It was quite a relief when his phone bleeped. Shooting an apologetic look at Elsie, he checked his display.

Phyllis 2:15am: Happy New Year! I'll be back tomorrow. Meet me at my place at around 3pm? We need to talk.

He swallowed nervously. He hadn't forgotten about her request to get to the bottom of his feelings. The thought of telling her, of making it real was frightening him.

"Something important?", Elsie asked.

"Phyllis", he replied which explained enough to Elsie. "Well, good night, Charles", she said.

He nodded, forcing himself to smile. When she was gone, he typed his reply.

Charles 2:20am: Happy New Year to you too! I'll be there. Safe journey. x

…

1st January 2013

Charles hadn't slept a wink all night. He was looking quite terrible when he made his way from Elsie's to his flat to have some time to himself before he met Phyllis. Splashing cold water into his face didn't make the dark circles under his red rimmed eyes disappear. He was also rather pale and felt much like that one time he had fallen of a horse in full gallop and nearly broken his neck. Now, only the scar on his chin and on his back were proof of that accident. Standing in front of the mirror he shaved, trimming his beard as short as possible. When he combed his hair, he spotted quite a few new grey and white strands, sighing at the sight. He seemed to age faster as of late.

Walking over to Phyllis' flat felt like walking to a funeral. And the worst part was, Charles didn't know yet what would be ended and what kind of grief would grip him. His hand was shaking when he rang her door bell. The door buzzed, allowing him to enter. The stairs made him dizzy and increased his overall feeling of being sick. Phyllis was standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, a worried, even anxious expression her face. Her hair was a little wet which let Charles know that she must have had a shower earlier. The dark strands were curly and falling onto her slumped shoulders. Charles did his best to look happy to see her, but his worn out face didn't let him. "Hello", he said quietly.

He watched her attempt at a smile, hurt at seeing how much sadder it made her look. "Hi, come in", she said shakily. He walked passed her, avoiding any contact and went straight through the living room where he stopped and remained standing in the middle of the room, looking lost.

She kept her distance, sitting down on the sofa and waving her hand at no particular seating furniture, inviting him to sit down. He picked the armchair opposite of the sofa, putting his clammy and shaking hands on his knees. "How was Manchester?", he asked, his voice hoarse.

"All right", she said. "But I missed you", she admitted.

He swallowed hard.

"Did… Did you miss me?", she asked quietly.

Charles had never been so uncomfortable with being honest. "No", he whispered, ashamed. "Not like that."

Phyllis choked back tears. "Like what?"

"I did miss your company as a friend, but not as my girlfriend", he tried to explain helplessly.

"So you really don't love me", Phyllis concluded, tears falling.

"I don't", he confirmed. "But that doesn't mean that I don't care about you."

Phyllis was fighting to keep her composure. "Why did you stay with me then? It's been months."

Charles rubbed his neck. "I want to explain it, but I'm afraid it will make things worse."

"Why?", Phyllis asked. "All I want is to hear an explanation. You can't hurt me more, Charles. I love you and you don't love me."

"I'm sorry", he offered sincerely.

"I know. Believe me, I know you are sorry. I know you are a good person. And that's why I don't understand you", Phyllis cried.

Charles mustered all his courage and got up, kneeling down in front of Phyllis and offering his hands. She held them tightly, drawing comfort from the touch. "I never told you about my life before the accident with Elsie's car. And that is because you might not believe me. And I wouldn't blame you, really. Simon can confirm what I'm going to tell you now if you feel like I'm lying to you." He saw the confusion in her eyes, but she nodded, asking him to continue. "I was born in August 1856. My father was groom to the Earl of Grantham, my mother lady's maid to the Dowager. I started my career as a servant as hallboy to the Crawleys and over the years worked my way up to the position of butler. There was a short time when I was nineteen I spent on the stage in London, but I guess I was always meant to be a servant. I lived my life. Unmarried. No family except my employees' children I watched growing up and the younger staff I took care of. My only friend was the house's cook. The one thing I had was my job. In April 1912 I was out in a thunderstorm looking for a missing hallboy and the next thing I knew was Downton Hospital and Dr. Tapsell telling me about the accident."

Phyllis was staring at him wide eyed. He remained silent, giving her time to let his words sink in. Finally, she spoke. "I believe you. It explains a few things."

He nodded. "The reason I got together with you and stayed with you is that I was alone. I didn't know this place. My life was lonely, but busy and suddenly I was alone. I was afraid of that. The reason I grew so close to you, to Elsie and Tommy and the others was… is that I'm fleeing being alone. And I don't know what I feel anymore. I don't know what I want."

Phyllis studied him for a very long moment. "Maybe you should try and find a way to go home."

Charles frowned. "You want me to leave?"

Phyllis shook her head and sobbed. "No, I don't want you to leave. I love you, Charles Carson. But you belong elsewhere. And you should go back. You should be happy."

"Maybe you're right", he whispered, tears filling his eyes. "But I don't know how to get back."

"You'll do the right thing", she assured him.

"Thank you, Phyllis", he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

She gave him a teary smile and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye."

…

Charles was crying silently on his way through town. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't really care. He was torn between two worlds, lost and simply let the tears of desperation fall. He was glad not to meet anyone in the state he was in. His legs carried him to the old part of town, the part he was so familiar with. The old church looked a bit knackered and the graveyard was in parts hopelessly overgrown. Charles stopped at the tiny wall shielding the graves from the road and took deep breaths to calm himself. Simon had warned him about coming here. He had warned him about the effect of seeing the graves of everyone he had ever known. Charles knew this was a bad idea, but these people had been his life. They had meant something to him. And he should pay his respects. The gate was rusty and squeaked, but it wasn't locked. Most gravestones were marked by age and weather, leaning to one side or having sunk deeper into the earth over time. He slowly walked over to the first gravestone. Charles looked closely, but it was impossible to read it. A few letters were still clear on some of the other gravestones, but again and again Charles couldn't read them. Finally, he reached the graves of the Downton soldiers. It seemed that they had been taken better care off than most of the other graves. He wiped away a stream of tears when he spotted William's name. It wasn't right when people died young and never had a chance to experience age. Especially not good people like William. His gaze wandered to the next grave. Charles body was shaken by a violent sob. The cross read Henry Carter. The hallboy had been eleven when Charles had disappeared, making him seventeen in 1918, the last year of the war. Had the boy really enlisted months before the nightmare was over and paid with his life? Why had no one stopped him? And then Charles remembered that Henry's parents were both dead and the only one he had listened to at the Abbey had been Charles himself. He might have made the difference, saving the boy's life, but instead he stared down at Henry's grave and there was nothing to be done. Charles had to move away. He couldn't bear the sight any longer. Knowing that the bigger gravestones were the ones belonging to the Crawleys he moved there next. He found himself in front of Lady Mary's grave and was relieved to see that she had grown old. She had died in 1977, aged 86. And that was when he realised how wrong it was that he stood in front of her grave at all. He should have never lived to see it. He should long be dead, probably since some year in the 1930ies. It was wrong that he was there. Just wrong. He sank to his knees, crying his heart out. And then he remembered that it had been that potion from this blasted book that had sent him here. That book was his ticket home, his chance to make things right.

"Charles!"

He winced at the sound of Elsie's voice. His eyes found hers. She was worried and knelt down beside him, putting one arm comfortingly around his shoulders, grabbing his left hand with hers. "What are you doing here?", she asked softly.

"I don't know", he cried. "I thought I had to pay my respects, but this is so wrong. I shouldn't be here. My grave should be amongst them."

Elsie swallowed hard, holding back tears. "I understand", she whispered and she did. As much as it hurt, but she knew that he was right. He didn't belong with her as much as she wanted that. They should have never met. She leaned her forehead against his temple. "Do you want to go home?"

Charles squeezed her hand. "Yes."

"Do you know how you can get back?"

"I think I do", Charles said. "Will you help me?"

"I will." Elsie hugged him tightly. "Although I don't want you to go."

Charles turned his head and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry", he whispered, not knowing what it was exactly he was sorry for. At least not yet.

*In Germany it's a tradition to watch Dinner for One on New Year's Eve. I don't know if it's the same in the UK. Anyway, confronting Charles with it seemed like fun.

Next: Elsie helps Charles to find Beryl's book, but will he really chose to go back?