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!

September 1900

It was rather a joyous evening at the post in Johannesburg where Captain Crawley's regiment was staying. Earlier in the evening, John had dressed Robert for a dinner with officers held as a celebration of the annexation of Transvaal. British troops had fought valiantly during those 2 years against an enemy that turned out to be dangerous and far more difficult to beat than what the British Government and the Army would let on.

John was now seating around a table with some of his comrades, playing cards and drinking in celebration. He had made a new life for himself during this war and made real friends. He knew he could trust every single man around this table. They also understood him, because they had seen and experienced the atrocities of this war with him. But he knew he was doing it for the right reasons, and more importantly, he was defending his country in this foreign land.

John was finishing his glass when a familiar voice reached his ears.

"John? John Bates? Is that you?"

John turned around and saw a young man smiling right at him.

"Peter? Dear God, Peter! I never thought I would see you again after we've been assigned to different troops."

They hugged as if they had known each other since they were kids. It may have not been the case, but Peter was the closest friend he had, with the exception of Captain Crawley, though this relationship would always be ambiguous because of their class differences.

Peter took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and presented one to John.

"Care to join me for a smoke outside so we can quietly catch up?"

"I would love to," John answered.

They headed to the door. The weather was cool even if the night had already fallen. The bad season was already over and the temperatures were starting to rise up again. John, a proper northern man, never adjusted to the heat even after all this time. They lit their cigarettes and stood on the porch, watching the stars high in the dark sky.

"So, Peter, what are you doing here tonight?"

"My officer is dining here and so I thought I'd tag along and celebrate with your lot"

"My officer is here too, Captain Crawley. Do you remember when he had me assist him on the boat trip?"

Peter nodded, inhaling smoke from his cigarette.

"Well, I've been assigned to be his batman!"

"I knew it! Didn't I tell you so on the boat?"

Peter friendly shoved him, teasing him.

"Yes, my friend, you were right. Are you happy?"

"Very much."

"So," began John, "how are you doing?"

"Very well actually," Peter said. He paused and looked around to see if anybody was listening to them before continuing. "To tell you the truth, I was here because I was meeting a woman here tonight. She's a local, I've met her a few weeks ago and I know that I'm in love with her".

"I knew you weren't here without a reason. You never liked those social events. I'm happy for you Peter."

"And what about you? Still, a young dashing bachelor making the ladies' head turn? Well, not that young anymore, not with that moustache. What is that?"

John laughed at the remark about the hair on his upper lip.

"I've been wanting to shave it for ages but Captain Crawley made me promise that we'll do it when our babies are born."

Peter coughed in surprise.

"Your what?"

"I'm gonna be a father Peter! I'm a married man now, and I'm expecting a child!" John said, proudly bombing his chest.

"Oh, John, congratulations, I'm so happy for you!" Peter said, hugging John once again. "I was wrong. It is indeed a day of celebration."

They stood there, smoking a few minutes before John broke the silence.

"So, do you think we'll be home soon? Now that the Orange Republic and Transvaal are annexed."

John noticed Peter tense beside him. He looked around again to check if no one was listening to them.

"I've heard some rumours," he said in a ushed tone. "Apparently the Boers are not surrendering. They are now resorting to guerilla techniques. Once we're in a town, we have the power. But when we leave, the Boers come back and wreak havoc."

He now looks nervous and keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

"I've also heard of camps. A place where we put Boer women and children as if they were nothing more than cattle. It is not known to the public but they are put there by British troops in the belief that the Boers will stop fighting if we have their women and children. Jane, my girlfriend, told me that. She has seen British soldiers put up a camp near here and she says the conditions were horrible."

John was shocked at the tale. Surely the British would never resort to such atrocities.

"I don't believe you, Peter. We're soldiers. We're civilised men. We wouldn't capture women and children."

"I'm only telling you what I've been told. I'm also hoping that it isn't true, but I guess we'll find out later or sooner."

Suddenly the doors opened and Robert appeared, looking quite distressed, with an envelope in his hand.

"Bates! Here you are." He turned to Peter. "Excuse me, I need a word in private with Bates here."

Peter gave a confused looked to John and left.

"What is it, sir?"

"It would be better if you'd sit down."

Robert's face was grave. John reluctantly sat on the steps with Robert. He seemed to look for the right words to say.

"This telegram arrived a few minutes ago for you," he said, handing him to piece of brown paper. "I'm afraid it's bad news, Bates." He exhaled loudly and with a tender voice that John had never heard him use yet, he continued. "It is your wife, Vera. She had a bad fall and…" Robert swallowed with difficulty. "It appears that she has lost the baby."

The words started reverberating in his head. He felt numb as if all his will had vanished. A cloud seemed to suddenly block the few sunbeams that managed to shine through in his life. John opened the telegram and read the words echoing Robert's tale. It was true.

"I'm so sorry, John. I'm so terribly sorry."

John shivered at the use of his first name. Robert looked at him so tenderly, it took all John's strength not to break down in front of him. Robert patted his shoulder and rose, perfectly knowing that John would want to be alone.

Unbeknownst to John, Robert turned one last time before going in, watching the back of his friend suddenly convulsing, squeezing the piece of paper against his chest, bellowing his head into his knees before letting an agonising sound escape his lips.

Robert wiped the tears that had fallen on his cheeks, feeling more guilty than ever that he had just become a few days prior the father of a third little girl named Sybil when John had lost the chance to ever take his baby in his arms.