Sybil frowned as Sir Elliot Rosegrove's butler led her through his employer's large London estate, weaving past fine pieces of arts and baubles collected after what she was sure the man would claim was years of adventure and travel but in her experience was merely sending out agents to purchase items from auctions without truly understanding what they were. She wouldn't be surprised if the mask on the wall or the small statuettes on the table were actually discarded works from youngsters crafting homemade toys and Sir Elliot had no idea.

She schooled her features and ran her hands along the front of her skirt as the butler, Bittermen, paused to allow one of the Lord's relatives, Sybil didn't know who, move passed them. As much as she might mentally tease Sir Elliot she'd never do it to the man's face. Not merely because it would be improper but because the knight was an important supporter of the Army and the medical division, sitting on several advisory boards that oversaw civilian aid. She'd encountered him a few times at the meetings she needed to attend and whenever he had a party she was quick to accept the invitation. She understood that he was a man one wanted on their side and certainly didn't want to make an enemy of. His children were grown and his wife was busy with her own efforts and tasks and that meant the man had ample time to dedicate towards the military... and he liked to be involved with as much as possible.

Thus when she'd received the odd summons the day beforehand to come to his house for a meeting Sybil had found no trouble in getting the time off. After all, such things were part of her job description now. She did find it rather humorous that she had more meetings with knights and lords working as a nurse than she had ever had when merely the daughter of the Earl of Grantham. Isobel had been encouraging when she had heard the news, insisting that Sybil wear her best uniform and even wear the medals she had received for her hard work (even if she found them gaudy and felt like a braggart wearing them). "It is important to make the best impression… he may be deciding to allocate more money to us." Sybil had reflected on that… there had been rumblings that the government wanted to open more hospitals so that they might be able to get the brave lads fighting on the Front back home to recover rather than forcing them to deal with the French.

Still, something didn't quite feel right about this meeting.

'If he attempts to turn this into some tryst I don't care what he has to give I will drive his nose into his skull,' Sybil thought as they finally came to the drawing room. Sir Elliot's home was massive for a residence in London but Sybil's time wandering the never-ending halls of Downton had given her the endurance to handle such treks with ease. Standing to the side she allowed Bittermen to enter the room first, so he might announce her.

"Lady Sybil Crawley, Lord Oakwood."

Sybil started at that and broke from decorum to push past the man and stare at the figure who was just as startled to hear her name.

"Sybil?"

"Allen!" Sybil said with a smile, hurrying over and, had become her custom, giving them older man a hug. He returned it after a moment before pulling away, keeping his hands on her shoulders. While it had only been a few weeks since they'd seen each other, what with both of them having busy schedules and Sybil no longer living in his home, it had felt like years and she was delighted to see the General even if she was utterly baffled by him being there instead of Sir Elliot. "Whatever are you doing here?"

The General patted her on the shoulders before finally releasing her. "I received a summons asking for me to come here to discuss important matters. I assumed it was either Sir Elliot wanting to see about securing some items for the upper brass… someone whispering in his ear that the colonels or captains deserved better tents or nicer desks or that rubbish and he was going to try and get me to sign off on it."

"And that would have failed."

"It would have," Allen said firmly. Allen was both loved and loathed by the peers of the realm; on one hand he refused to give the highest of the high anything grander than was available, forcing them to endure conditions they simply weren't used too. But on the other hand nearly everyone knew of a son or a cousin or a nephew who hadn't been lucky enough to get a soft position away from fighting and knew that Allen was battling tooth and nail to get those boys every tool he could to survive. He finally released her, taking his seat, Sybil joining him on the divan. Bittermen moved to get them coffee which Sybil accepted, though she truly wished the man would leave them be so she might retrieve her flask from her pocket and give her drink an extra kick. Considering the strangeness of it all she had a feeling Allen would have for once accepted a taste of liquor as well. "But now you are here… I assume you have no knowledge of what this might be about."

"Not at all," Sybil said as Bittermen gave her a cup. She took a sip, savoring the taste; being a nurse meant getting used to strong bitter stuff to drink that could burn one's tastebuds and linger on the pallet e for hours. Sir Elliot's brew was like the nectar of the gods compared to the swill she and the other nurses lived on when they weren't making their rounds. "I merely received an invitation, same as you."

"Invitation or summons?" Allen asked, waving off the offer of coffee from the butler. As the man moved away he dropped his voice into the lowest of whispers. "Mine was rather to the point and made clear that I had to attend."

"Invitation with hints that it would be wise to accept," Sybil stated. "I actually wondered if Sir Elliot was expecting…" she trailed off, unable to think of a proper way to address her suspicion.

Allen's eyes flashed with anger at that but he regained control. "Well, can't be that if I am here," he finally said, Sybil nodding in agreement. He then smirked. "I hope." Sybil started at that before chuckling. "Which means that he has something else in mind." He leg bounced a bit as he thought, making the divan wiggle slightly. It was a nervous tick of his he got when he began puzzling over an issue. "I was commanded to come, you were asked but with a bit of force. Both of us are required for whatever this is but the sender holds you in higher regard. Interesting, yes?"

"Very interesting," Sybil stated. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough when Sir Elliot joins us."

"I'm afraid he won't be attending," a familiar voice told her, causing Sybil to start once more and nearly spill her coffee. "He has other matters to attend to but that is fine as he would have gotten in the way, I believe."

"Granny!" Sybil exclaimed, putting her cup down on an end table and rising to greet her grandmother. She was dressed as she always was, in the finest and most conservative of dresses, a tilted hat on her head, and her walking stick clasped in her hands. But there was something in her demeanor, despite her clear attempts to act like that it was completely normal for the three of them to be together in that strange room, that spoke to secrets and plans.

"Lady Grantham," Allen said politely, rising from his seat.

"General Lothrop," Granny said before smiling her tight little smile. "Or should I call you Lord Oakwood now? You will have that title soon enough."

"Soon but not now," Allen stated. "My father holds the title and the estate until the war is over though if I had my way he'd hold it for quite a bit longer."

"Oh come now," Granny said, moving to sit in the arm chair to their right. It didn't go missed by Sybil that Granny had selected the chair that represented power and control in its placing in the room. "You can't loathe high society that much to scoff at such an honor. The title of Lord Oakwood and the village of Brigamore hold great weight in our world."

"Let us ignore my issues with the elites that run this country," Allen said, taking his seat next to Sybil. She wanted to stop what was about to happen but found herself also looking forward to it. She'd seen Granny and Isobel feud but the Dowager Countess vs. The General? If Sybil sold tickets she'd be able to buy the royal palace and have pounds to spare. "Let us just look at the title in and of itself. Perhaps, at one time, it might have been seen as a grand honor. But those days have long passed." Allen scowled fiercely. "My dear cousins saw to that."

"Yes, them," Granny said, her smile turning into a sour look that threatened to leave her lips permanently sucked into her mouth. Ladies Cassandra and Joanna Lothrop had ensured that no matter what Sybil and her sisters did they could never be called the most scandalous of the high born girls in the last 50 years. Lady Cassandra had been a wild child who had run away from home often so she might gamble in seedy pubs or go on frantic shopping trips in London. Her grandfather on her mother's side had been a baron and they included a princess on their maternal family tree and thus Lady Oakwood had been a vain and arrogant woman who had instilled such entitlement into her daughters. The final straw had been when Lady Cassandra had, in broad daylight and in front of forty witnesses, struck a flower girl because the child had annoyed her purely because she had come to close. She had fled not just the village but all of England when the villagers had become blood thirsty and while it had never been proven it was accepted that her mother had aided in her escape. Allen had told her that the last he heard Cassandra had gone to Canada and been married off to an old man who had made his wealth in oil and who had strong sons already who would make sure she stayed in place.

Lady Joanna Lothrop had seemed to escape her sister's madness but it had been revealed that she merely was good at hiding her true nature. At the wedding of Lady Elaine Quillin, first daughter of the Earl of Moorshire, Lady Joanna had disappeared during the reception only to be discovered by the newly married couple and a quarter of the guests fornicating in newlywed's carriage with the groom's best friend, Sir Ernest Duncan's son. It had been the talk of the inner circles and when Sir Ernest's son and she had quickly married it wasn't shocking when it was revealed weeks later she was pregnant. But even that might have been covered up... had the child not come out as black as a coal miner's thumb. The boy had been quietly adopted out to a farmer's family and Lady Joanna had been sent, like her sister, across the Atlantic, this time to New York. But unlike Cassandra she had not gone along with this banishment meekly and the last the family had heard she had journeyed west; it was in Allen's opinion that she was at best dead or at worst a whore making coin by doing the only thing she had a bit of talent for.

"My family name was smeared in the mud but at least I was able to distance myself through my work in the army and my own family. But now I am forced to take my uncle's title and try and repair that which my cousins destroyed." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you have any idea what it is like trying to repair a tarnished standing?"

"More than you know," Granny said quietly, meeting his gaze with her own. "Now then," she finally said, leaning back in the chair, gaze sweeping over the two of them, "I believe we can begin."

"Shouldn't we wait for Sir Elliot?" Sybil asked though as soon as the words left her mouth she knew how foolish they were.

Allen had come to the same conclusion. "He didn't call this gathering, did he?"

Granny raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that it wasn't his signature on your invitations?" Sybil merely met her grandmother's challenge with a narrowing of her eyes and Allen looked ready to storm out. "But you are correct in assuming it wasn't his idea nor is he involved. I asked him to bring you here and he was kind enough to do so."

"What favor did he owe you?" Sybil asked.

"Oh, favor sounds so utterly dreadful... it makes this all seem like a villainous affair. I thought we were friends and family."

"We are when you are honest with us," Sybil said before Allen could speak, for she knew if the General voiced the thoughts that were currently racing through his head it wouldn't end nearly as well. "Why not simply come to the House?"

Sybil didn't miss the way Granny winced at the use of the term 'The House'. A few years ago that had always meant Downton, the ancestral home of the Crawleys. But now it referred to the Lothrops' London home. The way it had so naturally rolled off her tongue, without a moment's stutter, must have been like a dagger to her grandmother's heart; Sybil was very much aware that she and her sisters were Lothrops in all but name at this point, and would have been in name if they merely asked The General to formally adopt them all. Though Sybil didn't feel much grief in causing her grandmother pain... she hadn't truly thought of Downton as her true home since her first life and even then it had been when she had been a maiden. When she had married Tom and forced to leave in a state that was exile in all but name the idea that Downon Abbey was her home had been utterly crushed. For many years there had been no "The House" for her. The little home she and Tom had made in Dublin had been exactly that: a home. One where they dreamed of their children playing in the yard and discussed at night while under the sheets the improvements they'd like to make. It hadn't been 'The House" as it seemed wrong to apply such a lofty term to such a cozy little place. And when she had found herself returned to her past life Downton hadn't been The House because to her it was like walking through a facsimile of the estate... like she was an actress appearing on stage and she knew that if she simply kept going she would find the walls to be revealed to be canvas and lumber and the fine art little more than props. It hadn't been until she had stayed at Allen and Kat's home that she had found "The House" for this lifetime... the place of grander but also security.

"I agree," Allen said, pulling Sybil from her thoughts. "This cloak and dagger might amuse you but I am a busy man, Lady Grantham, and I do not have time to waste with the games of the wealth and powerful when there is a war going on."

"Oh sit down," Granny admonished him when Allen began to rise. "Much too dramatic... you should learn how to deal with changes." Sybil snorted at that. "Is there a problem?"

"You are preaching accepting changes gracefully?" Sybil asked.

"Why yes, I am."

Sybil had to bite her tongue for the words "Bull shit!" had nearly leapt from it.

"As for your concerns that this is merely the machinations of a bored old woman I can assure you that isn't the case. I chose to have this meeting here because I wanted a neutral battleground... something I think you would respect, General." Allen stared at her for several long moments that seemed to stretch on from the beginning of time to Judgment Day before he finally settled back onto the divan and motioned for Granny to continue. "I have used every..." Sybil could tell that she wanted to use the word 'favor' but couldn't after her complaining about it, "piece of good will I had to see what is about to occur come to be but I wanted to make sure you didn't fight me on it. What I wish to achieve will not survive if you buck and snort like one of those American goats-"

"Broncos," Allen stated.

Granny dismissed the correction and continued. "-and attempt to forestall things. Thus I am coming to you out of respect because I feel you two will be the largest pieces in this endeavor we are about to embark on."

"You are building this up quite a bit, Granny," Sybil said. "And past experience has shown that isn't a good thing."

"It depends on your view of where matters stand concerning the war." She tapped her cane against the floor. "Tell me... what is the biggest problem is right now on the home front?"

Allen and Sybil glanced at each other before it was the General that spoke. "The sheltering of the soldiers who return home," he stated. "We can provide all the supplies and beds and nurses but without rooms to place them-"

Sybil's eyes widened as she realized just what was happening and she blurted out, "You're going to turn Downton Abbey into a convalescence home!"

Allen whipped around, staring at Sybil so utterly flabbergasted that she would have laughed if she were so startled herself. Of course her surprise was for far different reasons than the General. 'In my first life it was Cousin Isobel who was the driving force of this plan. Did she… no, she would have told me if she were considering this and after how Matthew and she were treated she would never think of making this suggestion in secret. She cares for Mary too dearly… and probably fears her wrath even more.' Sybil could only mentally shake her head. 'We change so much and yet at times it seems Fate wishes to force events to happen.'

Granny looked at Sybil, eyes narrowed and lips puckered into the tightest of scowls. "Well, I won't deny being rather annoyed that you ruined the surprise, Sybil dear."

"You're serious," Allen said, looking back and forth between the two of them. "You're mad."

"Please make up your mind. I am either mad or I am serious. I can't be both."

"You can be both because you are both," Allen stated in frustration. "Downton Abbey… a convalescence home? Will you be performing surgeries in the dining room or save that for the library?"

Sybil had to stop herself from answering, lest she give away future knowledge, leaving it to her grandmother to explain. "Nothing of the sort will happen there. Downton will be used for officers after they have recovered from operations and other needed examinations. It will allow men that merely need rest to have a chance to gain it. I have talked with some medical professionals and they have found that men heal better in places of comfort than being packed together like cigars in a box."

"That… is true," Sybil stated. "We have found that men that are on the road to recovery will suddenly show a downswing because they are surrounded by others who are much worse off than them. It is something about how the mind deal with negativity. Place one amongst those that fear they will die and soon they begin to feel the same way. That is why we try and make sure to provide activities for the patients, to stimulate the mind and keep them from thinking about what brought them into our care and what they still have to go through in order to finally be released."

"You must have experienced similar conditions yourself, General," Granny said, pressing her point. "Would you truly rather have had yourself or your men recovering in the most compact of conditions? Or room to breathe?"

"Of course the latter," Allen said with a scoff. "But I still think this is madness. We are talking about moving men halfway across the country!"

"You do it all the time already. And far farther too. France is not merely a short paddleboat ride, after all."

"It could work," Sybil admitted. "We are lacking in some supplies but that would be a problem no matter what location we chose. And Downton is already built and well-cared for, so we wouldn't have to waste time retrofitting an older building as we have done in the past." She of course knew it was entirely possible, having seen it, and thus was speaking merely to try and buy herself some time as she tried to figure out exactly why Granny had chosen to go this route.

"From the people I have talked to, both in the military and the medical fields, they believe that we could have Downton ready to receive patients within a fortnight. We'd need to bring on extra help for cleaning and… sanitizing I believe is the word they used… but there are plenty of young women who need to supplement their income while their husbands are away… they already know how to run their own houses so adopting to Downton would be simple enough." Granny smiled slightly, acting as if she had suddenly come up with a thought when in reality Sybil knew she had puzzled it over long before she had arrived and already decided it would be the proper course of action. "And then there are the soldiers themselves. There are some who will be cleared to leave Downton when it comes to their physical wellbeing but who may not be quite ready to return to Europe. They could be trained to assist the nurses… properly making a bed may be harder than firing a gun but they can learn."

Allen's mouth twitched at that and Sybil quickly stepped in, once more seeing that he was taking insult to Granny's comments. "We already do that here, Allen. It would merely be on a larger scale."

"It seems you have this well thought out," Allen said. It was only his tone that made it clear to both women that this wasn't a compliment.

Granny though merely nodded her head, pretending not to hear the veiled insinuation while at the same time moving to squash it. "As for the overseeing of Downton and its new role it has been decided to place three people who are familiar with the layout of the House who are already within the field of aiding soldiers. The first will be medical, of course... they will ensure that the health of the soldiers is our first priority." Granny smiled right at Allen. "Dr. Richard Clarkson will be shifted from his current duties to that position."

Sybil saw exactly what game Granny was playing at with that choice; it was the same as the one she'd played in her first life. She believed that by having the village doctor oversee Downton that would give her a measure of control over him. And the General couldn't protest because Dr. Clarkson was making a fine reputation for himself within the army for his care of the soldiers and the men and women he trained. To challenge him would be a purely petty move on Allen's part and the General simply didn't have it in him to destroy an innocent man just to win a battle against the Dowager Countess of Grantham.

'Of course she doesn't realize that Dr. Clarkson can be as stubborn and myself or Isobel. She won't have a puppet in place at all,' Sybil thought to herself.

"A strong choice," Allen said and Sybil detected no annoyance or anger in his voice. Obviously he was willing to hear Granny out and if it turned out that her choices were ones that he would make he would accept them. Of course Granny knew that and her choices would both please him... and her.

"Next will be the person in charge of the staff. The nurses will still answer to Dr. Clarkson when it comes to medical concerns but the scheduling of shifts, arrangement of day to day tasks... that is far too much for him to take on alone. We will also be bringing in more maids who will focus solely on cleaning the patient areas, as well as cooks to make meals for the officers."

"Mrs. Patmore won't like sharing her kitchen," Sybil stated. Last time they'd brought in one or two extra girls to help but Mrs. Patmore had basically worked from dawn till midnight feeding both the soldiers and the family. This time Sybil and Matthew's actions had caused ripples that saw new cooks. 'I remember Tom's tales of her and Mrs. Byrd...'

Granny waved her hand. "Already considered. Crawley House sits unused at the moment and I do believe we will be able to convince Isobel and Matthew to allow us to use it for those cooks. Anything that needs to be warmed can be done so by Mrs. Patmore herself, such as if we do soups, but the preparing will be done there."

"Matthew will accept that," Allen said, warming to the idea. "He doesn't like waste... Crawley House is a bit far but the soldiers are used to tinned food, even the officers and high ranking members of the Armed Forces. Bread that isn't piping hot will not trouble them at all." Allen leaned forward. "Who do you see managing all this?"

Here Granny smiled like the cat who had caught the canary. "Who else?" She turned to Sybil.

It took her several moments to realize what her grandmother was getting at. "M-me?" she stammered.

"Who better? You already serve as a grand representative for your hospital and many of the younger staff look to you for guidance. Were the doctors to suddenly be called away you would seize control and manage things so smoothly I dare say no one would notice their absence."

"That is higher praise than I deserve," Sybil said, utterly floored.

"I disagree," Allen, the traitor, said with a nod. Sybil glared at him and he shrugged, waving his hand towards her grandmother. "She's right... if I had to pick someone to manage this I'd select you. Downton was your home. You are a skilled nurse and a natural leader." He shot Granny a look. "And I can only assume that things are in motion that would make us actually stopping this impossible."

"You would make it difficult and would lessen the effectiveness if you were to fight me on this but the die has already been cast. Downton will serve."

Allen nodded at that. "Then I'd rather have someone I trusted than some devil I didn't know running things there... and I think you'd agree with me if you truly thought this over."

"I am thinking it over!" Sybil exclaimed. "And I think it is mad to put me in charge!'

"Why?" Granny asked.

Sybil didn't have an answer, merely opening and closing her mouth, wishing that the right words would pop out.

"Now is not the time to let modesty or nerves keep you from what must be done," Granny said gently, reaching out and patting Sybil on the knee. "You are the right person for the job." She leaned back and smiled. "Besides, it will give you a higher position than Isobel and that is enough to make me endorse the plan."

"Oh Granny!" Sybil complained.

"And you'll have Matthew with you."

"…no," Allen said firmly.

"We need someone who will be in charge of the soldiers. They won't respect a civilian."

"Absolutely not," Allen said again.

"Matthew will be able to monitor the supplying of Downton."

"I've heard enough," the General said, rising.

"It will be a promotion for him. Thomas will remain with your office and will be promoted as well, taking lead and training several other officers to assist him-"

"Enough!" Allen snarled, his voice guttural and raw. Granny, for her part, didn't balk in the slightly. "This is not about helping soldiers or easing the burden the medical divisions are facing! This is some mad scheme to get Matthew and Sybil back under Robert's thumb and I will not allow it."

"Not in the slightest," Granny countered.

"I was willing to consider Sybil going there when I thought I might have a choice in the final member of your command structure… I had names in mind that would make sure that bullheaded ass kept away from her-"

"Allen!" Sybil exclaimed at him cursing at Granny.

"-but now I see that you want to trap Matthew and Sybil there. Why I do not know but I won't allow it. I'll fight you on this… I'll turn Brigamore over and let that be converted."

"Brigamore is sorely needing repairs upon the East Wing thanks to your uncle's neglect these last few years. You can try but you will fail… all you will do is waste time."

Allen nose scrunched and his face trembled with barely held fury, Sybil rushing to him and putting herself between Granny and him. He would never hurt her, she knew that, but she still felt the urge to keep them separated. "You've done your research, Lady Grantham."

"I have. I knew you wouldn't be pleased with this situation, not at first… I am friendly with my granddaughters and have maintained a relationship with them but you and I are not friends. We tolerate each other. You are the man that usurped the role of their father-"

"Gladly," Allen said, looking down at Sybil and his anger melting just a fraction. "They may never see me as such but I hold them as my daughters." Sybil smiled at that, her silence message enough that she had already come to see the General as a second father. "And you are the woman that still supports the man that betrayed and abandoned them."

"I have," Granny admitted. "And that is why I am doing this now." She rose to her feet and approached the General without a lick of fear. "Robert came to me two months back. It was the middle of the night and it wasn't just rain that made his eyes wet. He had come to a realization… that how he'd been treating the girls, Matthew… everyone… was wrong. It was a crushing blow for him, to see just how much damage he had done because of his own actions. How he had, in your own words, betrayed and abandoned his family when he should have been thankful for them." Her voice was firm and strong but Sybil got the sense that was only because she had mentally prepared herself for this very speech. "And I told him that he was my son and that I would do all I could to help him… just as I would do all I could to help the girls. Because even you will admit that all of us would be far better if these tragedies and pains were dealt with and the fissures between us all mended."

"…Granny," Sybil said, finding it her turn to be utterly frustrated. "This is… madness! If Papa is truly sorry for what he did why not come to us and admit it? Why create this elaborate farce of turning Downton into a convalescence home purely to get Matthew and I under the same roof as him?" She shook her head in frustration. "It sounds ludicrous the more I speak of it!"

"I don't know," Allen said, his temper still there but muted in light of the new information. "An overly complex and needlessly dramatic set up for something that could be handled quickly and quietly? That sounds like the upper class to me."

"Something you are a part of, despite your self hatred," Granny reminded him before looking back at Sybil. "Besides my dear I want you to think for a moment… I'm sure the answer will come to you as to why your father couldn't merely arrive at your door with cap in hand asking for your forgiveness."

Sybil let out a suffering sigh. "Mary."

"Mary," Violet echoed, Allen letting out a groan as he caught up to their logic. "She will never accept an apology… she will accept nothing from your father. You know how she is, Sybil my dear. When Mary gets a thought into her head she refuses to let it go. One only has to see how long it took Matthew to wear her down and get her to see him as something more than a usurper."

"And it took a dramatic and traumatic event to get her that far," Sybil admitted, hating that she had to be thankful to that Turkish bastard for something.

"Thus why we are here now. With you and Matthew at Downton you'll be able to see that Robert has changed. Mary will be enraged, of course, but within a month or so her curiosity will get the better of her and she will begin to check in. It will take time but eventually the two will talk, work out their differences, and we will finally be on the road to recovery." With that Granny made towards the door, clearly having decided their conversation was over.

"This won't end like you think," Allen called out to her.

"Nothing in life ever does," she stated before leaving them.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: And thus another moment from canon finds itself occurring in this story… but in an altered way. I love the idea of Matthew and Sybil finding themselves running Downton… the In All But Name Lord and Lady of the Abbey during the war. It will add new wrinkles and situations to that story arc.

Plus I love the hospital arc anyway and there was no way I couldn't do it. Series 2 is my absolute favorite season of the show save for the final act of the Bates/Anna storyline.

Fun fact! Lady Joanna screwing in the carriage on the wedding day? Yeah… cousin of mine did that. Except it was ON the limo, in the parking lot, not in it. And she didn't get pregnant but if I honestly used some of the things my extended family did in full for this story you'd guys would call bullshit.

The next chapter will be the one I teased on twitter as being the one that started merely as "The main characters chat about this" but turned into "the Crawley girls get laid" because hey, who doesn't like having important conversations about war and life changes right before or after sex?

Now, onto the plot bunny. This was actually inspired but a bunny someone suggested concerning Game of Thrones but it works here.

Remember Avengers: Infinite War and 'The Snap'? Half of the population disappears and then five years later suddenly return?

What if that happened in the world of Downton Abbey?

It doesn't have to be Thanos. In fact there could be no explanation at all. Though I would have Tesla be the cause with one of his mad inventions. Anyway, maybe do it during Series 1 where just one day, during a party… half of the people in the world suddenly disappear. The Crawleys are eating dinner, having a spat, and suddenly Robert, Violet, Cora, and Isobel fade away. Dust. Leaving Mary, Matthew, Sybil and Edith staring in horror. Downstairs Mrs. Hughes can only watch as Mr. Carson, O'Brien, William, and Daisy poof away. Servants and family are in a panic, cries are going up from the village… everyone is scared and panicked.

And then Matthew Crawley stands up and calls for attention.

He rallies them all. Settles them. Takes command and gets them to focus.

Now, from here it could go one of two ways. The first would be to follow the stories of those who remain on Earth and how they deal with what happened. Matthew is suddenly Lord Grantham. The staff has to pull together. How would this affect people to be the ones that remained? What new relationships would form? Who wouldn't be able to cope?

The other way to go would be to tell this from the viewpoint of those that got Dusted. After Matthew takes command jump to 5 years in the future and suddenly there is a commotion in the dining room and Anna arrives to find Robert and the rest all returned. But what kind of Downton would they be returning to? Mary and Matthew having quietly married and already have a daughter with another on the way? The servants and the Crawleys that remained far closer and friendly, to the point that Sybil and Edith help clean the rooms while Anna and Mrs. Hughes sit with the family to eat supper because it had been far too quiet with everyone gone? So on.