Disclaimers: Although I wish I were the creative genius behind John's and Robert's character, they belong to Julian Fellowes. I'm sorry for the time I'm taking to write this story.

Thank you for your reviews, they are highly appreciated!

15 June 1900

The sky was dark and the clouds were casting their shadows on the earth, depriving the lives below of the sunbeams. Even if the English weather was more than often cold and grey, it was highly unusual to have such dark clouds hanging from the sky above their heads. It wouldn't be long before the rain would start pouring down on the big city.

John was feeling rather nervous, wearing his uniform. Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn't stop thinking how out of place he seemed in his mother's house. This uniform was made for the battlefields, it had seen blood, death, and destruction. It was also usually a synonym of pride to him. Wearing it always made him feel part of something, a new family he had acquired, starting with Robert with whom he had forged an unlikely friendship. But today he felt far away from him and his comrades, almost as if he was all alone once again. And the only feeling he felt while wearing his recently polished uniform was shame. Shame of what he had done. Shame of what he was going to do in a few hours. He had never appeared more dashing in his life and yet he felt dirty.

Lost in his dark thoughts, John hadn't seen his mother coming into the room. She stood behind him, putting her hand gently on his shoulder and looked at him with concern. As he saw her expression, John felt a new wave of guilt wash over him. What kind of man brings such emotion to his mother's eyes on the day he is getting married? She should be bursting with pride, tears of happiness threatening to run down her cheeks, harbouring a wide smile. Instead of joy, she seemed to be fighting the sadness to show.

She turned him around to look at him properly. She readjusted his collar and tried to tidy his hair but the same lock was stubbornly dropping on his forehead as usual. John closed his eyes and relished the moment when her hand lowered to his cheek and stroked it. When she cupped his face with her hands he opened his eyes again.

"Whatever happens, Johnny, I will always be proud of you."

John bellowed his gaze, ashamed even after her words.

"But I know I'm disappointing you again…"

She forced him to look her in the eye.

"Who said I was disappointed in you? I can't express how proud I am that my son is such an honourable man. I am not ashamed, Johhny. I am just concerned."

"Concerned?"

"Yes, about Vera," she marked a pause. "She came here to meet me before you came back. I was prepared to welcome her and bear no judgement upon her. But something in her eyes frightens me. I have a bad feeling about her, Johnny. I'm afraid of you tying yourself to her forever when you barely know her and hardly express love for her. Marriage should be for love and I can't accept but the best for you."

John took his mother's hands in his.

"I think I have learned that love is not for someone like me, mother. I hurt the people I care about." Mrs Bates looked as if she was about to answer but John continued. "She is expecting my child. I cannot turn my back on her. My fate has been sealed from the moment

I walked into that bar. I wish I could go back and undo what happened, but I can't. The only thing I can do is to stick by her and my child. I will do what I can to provide for them and for you."

"I'm not even sure she is pregnant…"

John dropped her hands and his eyes turned dark.

"Don't, mother. I have made a mistake, and now I have to fix it. It is not Vera's fault and it is not the one of my unborn baby."

He took a step back.

"I'm sorry," he said. And with that, he headed for the door.

"John Patrick Bates, do you take Vera Aoife Ward as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

A bead of sweat ran down his neck. The lump in his throat increased making it hard for him to breathe. His tight uniform wasn't helping as if it was trying to strangle him before he could utter those two dreadful words.

The church was lit by candles, the stained-glass windows were casting their dark colours on the floor. Only a couple was sitting on the second row of benches in the empty church. The wind was blowing outside, a storm forming in the dangerous sky looming over their heads.

Vera, dressed in a white dress with a bouquet of white roses in her hands, looked at him. As was the priest, a tall elderly man. He had white hair full of pomade and was wearing his ceremonial attire for the occasion. His hard stare was on John as if he was judging him for taking so much time to answer. John thought about the baby growing in the womb of the woman next to him. It was the only way. Reluctantly, he finally spoke.

"I do."

Vera seemed to relax next to him. He felt a bit embarrassed, after all, it wasn't her fault and he had to show her he wanted to be there and raise their child together. He gave her a little smile and the priest went on.

"Vera Aoife Ward, do you take John Patrick Bates as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

"I do," she replied without hesitation.

"And now the ring," said the priest, looking at him.

John pulled out of his pocket a silver ring and took Vera's hand.

"Repeat after me: 'With this ring, I plight thee my troth'"

"With this ring, I plight thee my troth"

"As a symbol of all we have promised, and all that we share"

John was now looking Vera in the eyes.

"As a symbol of all we have promised, and all that we share"

He slid the ring on her finger.

The priest opened his arms.

"It, therefore, gives me great pleasure to declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

John leaned in and kissed her gently. Thunder broke the silence and rain started pouring down on the street. As he looked at her, her pale blue eyes which seemed seconds before warm and caring turned cold and dangerous.