"Why did you tell me?" Tom asked, sipping from the glass of water Sybil had gotten for him. He'd clearly been startled when she'd offered to get him one but she'd reasoned after that fainting spell (and it made her shake her head how offended he got at the term 'fainting spell' preferring to claim he'd 'blacked out' because that sounded more masculine) and had been even more startled when, rather than walk back to the house and get a glass from Mrs. Patmore she'd grabbed one of tin mugs that hung by the door and gone to the hand pump just outside the garage and worked the handle herself.
When Tom glanced at his little tin cup again Sybil smiled, able to read him like a book. "Did you expect me to wander off to the house and request water in the finest glass or most expensive proclaim one could get their hands upon? Perhaps with a slice of lemon in it and brought by one of the footmen because I would never know how to care one on my own? And a full string quartet to play music in time with each of your sips?"
"You're taking the Mickey out of me," Tom stated dryly.
"Merely pointing out that I'm not what you've built up in your head. The United Front doesn't print cartoons of upper class girls like me, I'm afraid."
"No, the only stories written about you are in magazines about class-crossing love," Tom muttered.
Sybil raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know about those?" Tom blinked, realizing what he had just said, and then just shifted a bit in embarrassment. Sybil smirked, allowing him to wallow in red-face before deciding to move forward. "I'm not some pampered Earl's daughter that has never known a day of hard work before. I do not go 'a-flutter' at the sight of dirt or screech if I chip one of my nails. I was a nurse during the War... I changed men who had seizures and soiled themselves and then held them as they sobbed. I sat next to dying soldiers and held their rough calloused hands and stroked the burn scars that covered their knuckles because there was no one else who would offer them a bit of comfort. I've had to stand by as men I patched up were shipped right back out to the front even as they screamed and begged me to save them. I stood there knowing that for some they would return even more broken. Others would curse my name till their dying day, telling their grandchildren of the horrid nurse that sent them back only to cost them an arm or a leg… and for some their dying day would come shortly." She stared not quite at Tom but past him, the memories come to her hard and fast. "You can't imagine how much blood I've seen. Not just fresh and oozing but foul and infected. The stench that curdles stomachs and speaks of destruction and death. I've touched it… felt it. So much, Tom. So… so much. Do you know how much I've felt in the grooves of my fingers. Sometimes I wonder how I ever managed to scrub it all off..."
Tom cleared his throat, dragging her from the memories of the war that had been and, sadly would come again. For despite what Sybil and Matthew changed the war was one thing that would happen... they were simply too small to stop it. The works of two blessed could not stand up to the ambitions of small minded men. Sometimes she woke up at night fighting off screams as the memories of the war came upon her… and she knew that unlike all others those nightmares would come true again. Once Gwen had even found her in a daze, wandering about the halls of Downton, whispering that she had to find her uniform. She'd been able to play it off as a dream but still… the nightmares remained.
Sybil began to talk again, quickly, as she realized she'd let slip about a war that, while rumbled about in whispers and quiet fears, was far from happening. "I was a wife after that. My father was… less than pleased with our union-" Tom snorted at that, "-and I was stubborn and didn't want anyone's help. I cooked our meals and cleaned our dishes. You offered to get us a maid but I wanted us to save our money, so that we could provide for our children the best of lives. I scrubbed pots and cleaned clothing and helped you about the house. I took PRIDE in it, that I could do this and I wasn't what so many thought of me. So yes, Tom, I know hard work and pumping water with a handle is nothing to me."
"And that is the only reason you did it out there?"
Sybil felt her face grow hot. "Well... I might have been worried if I got too far away you'd run screaming from the estate."
"I'm still thinking about it," he jested and Sybil smiled; she missed the way he'd casually joke with her, commenting on something with such a dry wit that went against the fiery passion so many knew him for. That's what so many never understood about him. They were all far too used to seeing him as the stereotypical brash Irishman to notice his wit and depth. It did her heart good though to hear that, before Matthew's death, Tom and her family had begun to heal together to the point that papa would trust Tom with the state. Her smile fell though as his tone grew serious. "And you are stalling, Lady Sybil. Why did you tell me?" He gestured towards the garage's large door. "You said that Matthew...Mr. Crawley-" he scowled. "You are going to get me fired, you know that right? Using their Christian names and leaving me to look like a fool when I slip up and do the same?"
"Then we'll get my fight with papa over with all the sooner," Sybil remarked. "A part of me doesn't want to but another part is looking forward to it, as I have some new arguments I wish to use."
Tom merely shook his head before continuing. "You stated that Mr. Crawley has yet to inform your sister, Lady Mary, that the two of them are married in that future that has yet to come and that, in his eyes, she is already his wife."
"And he most likely never will."
"So he is courting her without burdening him with this knowledge-" Sybil winced at that, "-so why place the weight on me?"
Sybil chewed on her lower lip a tad, knowing that it made her look like some silly little girl in one of the romantic comedies the acting troupes liked to put on in London but needing the action to steady her nerves before she spoke. "First of all you must understand who Matthew and Mary are."
"This isn't you stalling again, is it?" Tom asked.
"Yes but with a very good reason," Sybil admitted and he finally motioned for her to continue. "I love Matthew like a brother but… he and Mary have never been simple. They trust each other but not fully. They hide things from each other, they keep secrets, they cover up facts and the truth. Each time they claim that they will be honest with each other, that this is the last time there will be lies and falsehoods, but then the next silly little thing pops up that in the Lord's grand scheme truly doesn't matter and once again one of them is trying to keep a secret. They love each other but I swear they thrive on conflict. Not the kind that leads them to screech and scream and slam doors… no, they were much too reserved for that. To collected. But they do love their cloak and dagger. It can be the silliest of things… sometimes I wonder if the two of them won't, eventually, find things to cover up and hide, just to feed their need for concealing.
"They also are forever convinced that they will do something wrong and drive the other one away. No matter how much they love each other and how tight the bonds are between them, to the point that, I wager, you'll be able to tell they belong together after spending a bit of time with them-and don't give me that look, you will be spending time with them both-and wonder at how two people that love each other so much could ever believe the other would turn away from them. And yet… I know Matthew fears he will say the wrong word and drive Mary away and as for my sister…" Sybil sighed, "…Matthew and her kissed yesterday. Their first kiss. I give it a week before the shine is off the apple and she begins to fear driving him away. Craft some foolish reason for the two of them to break up and why it won't work out and it will leave Matthew confused but of course he won't ask what is wrong, it will take the two coming at each other weeks on dread to finally work things out. That is their relationship: being so in love that they fear the love won't survive."
"That… sounds very foolish," Tom stated.
"They're both afraid of change and fear what it can bring… but only change they themselves aren't in command of."
"So they need to be in control," Tom said before shaking his head. "I shouldn't be talking to you about this."
"Why not? I'm not foolish enough to believe servants don't gossip."
"Yes but not with their employers!"
"My dearest friend is Gwen. She's a house maid and I helped her become a secretary. Or, I will… hmmm, time travel can be funny."
"…right," Tom said dryly. "And all this had something to do with your supposed relationship?"
"It has everything to do with it," Sybil said firmly. "Because we are not them! We are the opposite of them."
"Wouldn't being the opposite mean that we hate each other and let the world no it?"
"What… no… nevermind, that isn't what matters!" Sybil shook her head in annoyance. "NO, what I mean is that we didn't let things fester once we finally admitted what we were feeling. Yes, in the beginning we were too stubborn to admit our feelings…" Tom shot her a look and Sybil sighed, waving her hand, "Fine then, it was me. But once I stopped being like that… there were no true secrets between us. Well, small ones, innocent ones. But never like Mary and Matthew." She took a step forward and with the same care she might have used to approach a stray dog, reached out and slowly took his hand in her's. "I couldn't bear to lie to you. To pretend you were a stranger and know that this second, wonderful chance… was built on a lie. I would rather return to that future, where my death awaited me, than be that cruel."
"…you died?" Tom whispered and it made Sybil's heart sore over how pained he sounded at that news.
"Yes," she stated. "Matthew too. We believe… we believe that it is connected to why only the two of us returned to the past. But that doesn't matter. You deserved to know the truth, Tom."
"But why?" Tom demanded once more. "Do you not think it is manipulative to hang the promise of love and family in front of me?"
"Is it more than lying to you and using my knowledge to trick you into loving me again?" Sybil shook her head. "I'm sorry if you disagree but no. No." She released his hand and finally turned her back to him. "I know things won't be the same. I honestly don't want them to be. There is so much about my past life that I loved but there was so much more than could have been better. Pain avoided, joy found. I would rather risk you turning away from me of your own free will than to have you thanks to lies." Sybil closed her eyes and mentally screamed at herself not to cry. She would not cry. She would not.
"I can not claim I am happy with this," Tom said, pulling her from her thoughts. "But I also can not claim I would have preferred what you described. While it may work for your sister, and the way you describe her I imagine it is for the best, for me I would never be able to forgive you for lying to me. Which only serves to make me feel like a sham for feeling frustration and anger at you now. You were in an impossible situation and you chose the best option… even when it was a bad one." He sighed and she could hear him pacing. "It feels as if my life is no longer in my hands! That it has been written for me!"
"It has certainly not been!" Sybil declared. "There are so many things I wish to change, to do better, to never have happen! I am not demanding that you and I repeat our dance because it was horrid! Lovely but… horrid."
"That is an odd way-"
"it took us over four years to finally admit our feelings for each other."
Tom zipped around her so he could see her face. "Honest?" Sybil nodded and Tom rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay… I admit I'm feeling less annoyance at you telling me the truth hearing how big of a prat I was!"
"I was to blame. I doddled. You were a gentleman."
"And if I had left service and used the war to make a name for myself so that I could return to you after a year in a position that would have made it easier to admit your love for me, rather than trailing about shooting you forlorn looks and generally making you uncomfortable?
Sybil shifted awkwardly at how much he'd hit the nail on the head.
"Right, so no matter what happens next we are not doing that." Sybil beamed and Tom sighed. "And I shouldn't have known saying 'we' would make you smile like a loon." Sybil merely giggled and hiccupped at the same time; she'd take this over his anger any time. "Let me ask you… what do you hope happens now?"
'You and I run off together, get married, and have a long and happy life,.' Of course Sybil didn't say that as she knew that would only ruin Tom's accepting mood. Instead she said, "We continue on. We learn more about each other, and don't give me that look because there is plenty I can still learn about you, and, I hope, let something develop between us. I promise I will not press you… and I hope you will try and not let this affect you."
"Don't make a promise you can't keep," Tom said softly before moving and sitting down on a bench. "If it would be alright… I'd like some time alone."
"Of course," Sybil said quickly. "And you don't have to worry about me shadowing your every step, demanding you hurry and decide what happens. I will respect your need to deal with this… I just hope that you will give me a chance."
It would have been lovely if he had told her that she already had her chance. That he could live with the knowledge. But that was the thing of romance tales. No, it was only his silence that greeted her and Sybil, with a sad little smile, made her way out of the garage. She had known this would be a risk and it was one she was willing to take. She had been truthful when she'd told him she couldn't live with lying to him.
She now could only hope that her honesty wouldn't drive him from her.
~A~O~O~O~F~
John Bates had been in many odd situations in his life. The war, prison, service... each of them had their own oddities and awkwardness. One could spend their entire life as a professional soldier or a prison lifer or as a valet and still find moments that were odd and a touch embarrassing. John wasn't one to get squeamish over the less-than-pleasant parts of his current life and he certainly would take Lord Grantham saying the wrong thing over worrying about getting a knife in the ribs in the prison yard. Still, being a valet did have its odd moments.
Such as standing next to his employer's heir waiting for the woman he loved to come down from the Big House with his employer's daughter.
"Well..." Mr Crawley said, hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked about. The two of them were dressed in fine yet casual suits (perfect for a day at a country fair without making them look like a couple of roughnecks looking for their neck copper to pay for a mug of ale yet also not making them look like some dandy come to stare at the poor folk), standing just at the beginning of the main road that lead up to the Abbey. John had his cane at his side and a basket lunch that Mrs. Patmore had been kind enough to make for him and Anna sitting at his feet
"Ya can't just take her to a pub or give her a sandwich wrapped paper!" Mrs. Patmore had complained the moment she had heard about John's plans. "Daisy! Get me one of the good baskets! No, not that one you ninny, a good one!" The cook had then turned to John and waged her finger at him. "I won't have it!"
Knowing that it would have been useless to argue John had smiled. "I'll find a way to pay you back…"
"You'll do no such thing!" Mrs. Patmore had scolded.
"I quite agree, Mr. Bates," Mrs. Hughes had told him, making her presence known. "Or, now that I think about it, you'll pay us all back. The payment will be the smile on Anna's face when some comes back here."
Stranger though had been his encounter with Thomas.
"I haven't a sister to watch over, Mr. Bates," the footman had said, for once not sporting a cocky little smirk on his smug face. "And I think she could do much better than you. But… for now you are the one she wishes to be with. I won't claim I am beloved in this house… but Anna is. I know you don't fear me, Mr. Bates, as I don't fear you… but you should fear what all of us will do if you hurt her in any way."
John, rather than reacting in anger, had merely nodded. "The only peace I'll know if I do hurt her is that she will have all of you to heal her." Thomas had merely nodded at that and left.
He looked down at the basket and smiled. While he was willing to spend a bit of the money he had squirreled away on making the event fun for Anna he knew fairs could get pricey and he wanted to be careful. A few treats were fine and he wanted them to try a few games of chance and perhaps a carriage ride but going for a meal would drain away much of the money he wished to spend.
'And it will be far more personal for us to go off together than to sit in a pub,' John thought to himself, seeing just why Mrs. Patmore and Mrs. Hughes had been getting at with giving him the basket.
"Hmmm," Mr. Crawley said once more, trying to strike up a conversation. "Good weather for a fair."
"Oh yes, quite," John said.
"...still, we need a bit of rain. Farmers are asking for it."
"But they need to be careful. They ask for rain and the good Lord will give us a month's worth. And when they as for it to let up we get a drought."
"Right, right."
The two lapsed into silence.
"Think we'll do well in the cricket game this year?"
"Possibly."
"Yes."
John as pretty sure the actual crickets had fled, unable to stand the embarrassing situation themselves.
"If you wish for me to go on ahead, I can. I'm sure Anna will understand-"
"No no," Mr. Crawley said quickly, shaking his head. "Don't let my fuzzy-headedness drive you away, Bates. Honestly I should be ashamed of myself... when I was just a simple lawyer I would have happily chatted away with you without a second thought. A decade at Downton shouldn't change that."
"A... decade?"
Mr. Crawley blanched at that before laughing weakly. "A year, a decade... this place has a way of making you feel like you've been here forever."
"I quite agree," John stated, glancing at the trees he knew hid Downton from view. "I've worked at several houses, sir, and I have never encountered one so welcoming." He paused, a sardonic smile forming on his lips. "Or, at the very least, they were once they got used to this." He patted his bum leg twice.
"I imagine that caused a bit of awkwardness," Mr. Crawley stated.
"Just a bit," John said with the slightest of smirks, using the same dry humor-filled tone he'd father Lord Grantham when the two of them were playfully teasing each other.
"As much as the two of us standing here together just now?" Mr. Crawley joked back.
"More so, to be honest," John admitted with a rueful shake of his head. "It's been years since my limp returned... for a while it went away only to come back. I wish I could say I grew used to the looks people gave-"
"But you never do. They cut each and every time."
"That they do." John let out a soft sigh. "I don't know what is worse... those that openly stare or those that try to hide it rather poorly."
Mr. Crawley got a far off look in his eye. "Neither. The worst is those that stare at you with pity. Those that judge you as inferior and weak... you either let it get to you or use it to drive you to prove them wrong. They are easy enough to deal with and the emotions they bring the easiest to handle. It is the pity that is the worst. Pity makes you feel... helpless. You can't even get angry at them because you know they are just trying to be kind..."
"...but that kindness cuts worse than scorn," John finished, a far off look in his eye as he thought first of Mr. Carson judging him as utterly lacking and merely his Lordship showing charity to a broken man... and Mrs. Hughes who thought she was showing him a kindness but instead slashed him with a thousand razors every time she stared at him were her sad wet eyes as he limped about the downstairs.
John chanced a look at Mr. Crawley, his eyes darting away the moment the other man's head even twitched the slightest. The lawyer's insights were too exact, too on point, to have been made based on study. For a moment he considered that being the son of a doctor and a nurse had given him such insight but John quickly cast that away; Mr. Crawley didn't merely speak the words but had the slightly raspy voice of one who had experienced looks of pity and of scorn himself.
Mr. Crawley had, at one point... been a cripple.
'But the man looks utterly fit and fine. There has never been a hint he has had a bad limb. And yet...'
"Besides," Mr. Crawley said with renewed cheer, "there is another reason why I won't let you wander off."
"And what is that?"
"Lady Mary would never let me hear the end of it. This was her mad scheme, after all."
John laughed softly at that. "Aye... I suppose you are right there." He shifted slightly, head tilting up. "And I believe you just summoned her, sir." He watched as Lady Mary and Anna finally made their way down the final bend and came fully within their sight. Lord Grantham's eldest was dressed in her plainest, most down to earth walking dress and hat which meant that compared to everyone else she was still well over dressed. It was a light gray color, with a small splash of baby blue upon the torso and with a matching hat adorned with tiny flowers in the same cerulean hue. Not that many would notice what she was wearing as Lady Mary wore, for the first time since John had come to Downton, the brightest smile he'd ever seen upon her face. She was laughing at something, her arm locked with Anna's like the two were old friends and not Mistress and Maid. The burden that had weighed so heavily on her shoulders for the last year long gone and replaced with a giddiness that, while perhaps not proper on one of her standing, could not be frowned upon. Indeed, John would wager that if Mr. Carson saw her now he would recommend Anna and Lady Mary spend more time taking strolls, if only to make the Earl's daughter never lose her laughter.
As for Anna...
'Anna,' John thought with a smile as he looked at her.
There was a touch of nervousness in the coloring of her cheeks; though whether that was from their upcoming time together or from the way Lady Mary was standing so close to her John ouldn't guess. But it was that nervousness that made her so beautiful in John's eyes. While so many servants allowed the grueling pace and at times harsh duties grind them down until all that was left within them was bitterness (and John couldn't help but think of a certain pucker-faced lady's maid) Anna wasn't like that. She still was bright and sunny and was able to feel things other than disappointment and rued acceptance. She was able to be nervous like a school girl or passionate like one of those Feminist Equal Righters or joyful like a bride on her wedding day. It was her ability to care on, to still hold onto those emotions that made one human that made John want to feel such things as well. Oh, he could fake them so well... but Anna made him want to feel love and hope and joy.
"I think we have something else in common," Mr. Crawley stated. "We are both lucky men."
"Ah, there are our dashing knights," Lady Mary said, pulling Anna along as she hurried over to the two of them, the earl's daughter waiting till the last moment before releasing Anna. "Matthew," Lady Mary said with a dazzling smile.
"Mary," Mr. Crawley echoed, offering his arm to her.
"Bates, please do have Anna back whenever you wish and not a second sooner," Lady Mary told him firmly. "I will not be happy if I hear you two returned early."
"That isn't-" Anna began but Lady Mary shook her head.
"Oh, it is needed, Anna. Now then, go have fun!" With that Lady Mary was off, Mr. Crawley half turning to give them an awkward wave as he was practically dragged along the path into the village.
"...I trust that wasn't too painful," John asked Anna once they two were out of earshot.
Anna's shoulders slumped and she shook her head even as a befuddled little grin formed on her lips. "I honestly don't know what has come over her Ladyship. She was never this... open... even before the terrible news about Mr. Patrick Crawley."
"Finding someone you care for can change you," John reasoned as Anna reached down and grabbed the picnic basket, clutching it in her hands as the two began to head into the village at a much more sedated pace than what Mr. Crawley and Lady Mary had chosen. "Make you feel as if you could fly away. I know that's true with me."
"Mr. Bates!" Anna gasped. "I mean... John! You can't just say those things!"
"But I want to. It makes you blush." Anna reached up with her free hand and tried to hide her cheeks. "And you are very cute when you blush."
"Cute?" Anna protested.
"I'd say beautiful but that would only make you blush more..." Sure enough the maid beside him did just that and John smirked.
"Oh... I will find some way to make you pay for that," Anna said in good humor.
"Hmmm... I look forward to that," he said and guided her towards the fair.
~A~O~O~O~F~
Author's Notes: Poor Sybil. It would have been so simple to have Tom be utterly accepting of what she revealed and for them to move on to the wonderful part of their relationship. But that wouldn't be fair to who Tom is. He has just had the rug pulled out from under him and now he needs to deal with this news. And thus we now find ourselves with a reversal of the show, with Sybil being the one knowing what fate has stored for them and Tom the one in a bit of denial. He won't be as logger headed as Sybil but he won't be racing into her arms. Sybil is going to have to earn her happy ending, just as Matthew has been doing.
As for the second half we get something the show never did: Bates and Matthew having a long scene together. I mean, think about it… there are characters in the show that never interacted or did so very little. Anna and the Dowager. Robert and O'Brien. So on. This story allows me to experiment with such interactions and here we have two men who in the show struggled so much to have love and now here have earned it.
Originally the chapter continued on with some of the fair… I'll ask you guys, would you like the next chapter to focus on Matthew and Mary's date or are you ready for me to FINALLY move on to the next arc of this story, which will see Matthew's plan to get out of the War and the Front.
And now we go to our plot bunny! This one takes a common idea in the fan fic community and flips it on its head. Before the very first episode of Downton there is a tiny change: Mary went with James and Patrick on the Titanic, as the plan was for Mary to see her grandmother in New York.
Having Mary on the Titanic would radically alter not only the store itself but the characters. Robert more consumed with grief, making him struggle to continue on. Cora a ghost of her former self when we meet her, blaming herself for encouraging Mary to go visit America; it would take a ton of effort for her to get over that pain. An Edith who never made up with her sister and now acts out almost recklessly because she feels she must live for the two of them. A Sybil who is now more sheltered because everyone worries for her… and thus causes her to act out more. A heartbroken Carson who, if I were writing it, finally decided to take a demotion because he couldn't do his job; he would become Robert's valet and Bates would become the new Head Butler. This in turn would cause issues between Bates and Anna, as it would be seen as Anna being attracted to her boss, but also alter Thomas and Bates' relationship as Thomas would see Bates as a chance to start fresh and I see, in this new telling, Bates being willing to work with Thomas and the two becoming friends while Carson would butt heads with the two.
And of course a Matthew who finds himself with more pressure to be ready to take over as Robert simply can't function due to grief and the family NEEDS him to step up… and would support him taking over while they grief.
We would do a few chapters of this before fastforwarding to the War. Because Matthew would not sign up early (due to Mary's rejection in the original timeline) and also being basically Lord Grantham in all but name would see Robert (recovered at this point but having given up the title) decide to pull strings and get Matthew a position that keeps him away from the Front. While stationed in France Matthew would meet an American nurse who came over to assist the soldiers. She is beautiful and smart but also a hard worker and curses up a storm because she was taught by rough and tough New York nurses. Not the type of woman that the family expects him to marry but he falls for her and brings her to Downton…
…and Cora screams when she sees her.
Because, of course… it's Marry.
A Mary who lost all her memories. Who doesn't remember who she is or her life before. Who was taken in by nurses in New York after she was discharged and eventually became a nurse herself, believing she was just a standard London girl (perhaps have it that her clothing was destroyed when she was pulled from the water and given new clothing by a lower class person on the ship that found her).
What happens next would be up to you guys.
