Matthew fidgeted in his chair, looking down at his hands before staring at the paintings on the walls, hoping one of them would capture his attention and take his mind off the matter at hand. 'Leave it to Robert to have even the most basic and common of rooms in Downton to be filled with pieces that could headline museums.

'That isn't fair though, is it?' he quietly thought to himself. 'It is very likely these paints have been here before Robert's father was even born. And it has been instilled in him to scorn change, that change is a horrid thing… so can he truly be blamed for not moving these paintings where others might enjoy them?'

"Oh good," Violet said, breaking him from his thoughts. "You've stopped squirming like a dog who sat on an ant hill. I was beginning to worry that I'd need to whap you on the shin with my cane to get you to settle down."

"There are two things wrong with that statement," Matthew told her.

"Truly?"

"I very much doubt you ever seen an ant hill, let alone a dog sit on one."

Violet smirked ever so slightly. "What I have seen would shock you, my dear boy. And let us leave it at that. And the other?"

"You would never worry about striking me with your cane. You'd relish the chance."

The Dowager hummed, amusement flicking in her eyes. "You say that but you are forgetting a very important thing yourself."

"And that is?"

"Even I fear Mary should harm come to you."

Matthew chuckled at that. "Very true. Do you know she once bruised my shoulder smacking me after I cut myself shaving? The tiniest of nicks and she still was enraged that I 'risked my life when Molesley is right there!'."

"Yes, that does sound like Mary," Violet agreed. The two of them smiled at each other, bonding over the love, though different in each of their cases, they held for Mary Crawley. Finally though Violet said, "I know you disagree with this but it must be done."

"You say that but… do we have the right to do this to him?" Matthew asked. "William is dying."

Those words were bitter on his tongue. In his previous life he had been far too injured to see William… he honestly couldn't remember if he'd even awoken before the poor chap had passed. It was a sad thing, to have forgotten someone he'd been close to once, but life had continued on and then in this second life Matthew had never gotten to know William. It had been Thomas who had become his friend and ally within the military. William… the poor boy was too focused on winning glory, having bitten into the propaganda that was flying all about the realm of how they had to fight, had to win, that any sacrifice that could be made must be made in the name of victory.

'And now he is about to make the ultimate one,' Matthew thought only for rage to suddenly flare up in him.

"What is it?" Violet said, his anger having flashed crossed his features.

He rose suddenly and began to pace, frustrated. "William… he is dying and if it had been in service of King and Country it would be tragic but there would be an honor to that. A sour one, perhaps, but honor to it. But he isn't dying for King and Country. He is dying because some bloody bastard down there was given command and he squandered that power and got men killed!"

"It is horrid," Violet said only for Matthew to cut her off.

"It is blasphemous!" Matthew roared before suddenly catching himself grabbing the chair and sucking in great mouthfuls of air. The Dowager had actually leaned back, startled in the face of his outburst, and Matthew felt great shame in talking to her like that. "I… I am sorry-"

"No you aren't. Not truly. You needed to say it and better me than someone with a fragile heart." She rose and walked over to him and to his surprise she gently began to rub his back. "We all forget that just because you are in London doesn't mean you are blind to what is happening on the Front."

"I dream about it," Matthew said, deciding that in this moment he would speak as much of the truth as he could without making himself sound like a madman. "The mud and the cold and the shells going off all around me. I smell the smoke in the air but it isn't enough to cover up the rot from the bodies that are trapped in No Man's Land. They're men that I knew, that I promised to stand shoulder to shoulder with… and I can't even drag them back so they might be returned to their families! I have to listen to the crows peck away at them because I'm a damn coward…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "And when I wake up I give Mary such a fright because I paw at the covered to make sure she is really there… because I know that if she is there then I'm not over there. That… that I'm safe…"

"Oh… oh my dear boy," Violet said softly, her hand moving in circles along his spine. The spine that had been injured. The spine that had nearly seen him crippled for life. "You talk to Mary about this?" He nodded. "But you don't tell her all, do you?" He shook his head. "You should… she is stronger than you think and can help you carry this burden."

"I… I don't know if she could," he whispered. Because the burden wasn't that he had the dreams… it was that they weren't dreams at all. And that meant admitting to her that he'd lied to her their entire time together. And he couldn't do that… couldn't risk losing her now that he had her by his side once more.

"You must trust her with this," Violet said softly. "It will be better for everyone. Very few of us get a second chance at life."

"Pardon?" he said.

"Hmmm?" Violet said.

"Very few?" Matthew asked.

"Very few what?"

He opened his mouth before shaking his head; he must have misheard her.

"That is why it is also important that we do this," she said, once he'd settled down a touch. "Believe me… this is the right thing to do."

"But isn't it cruel to Mr. Mason?" Matthew said. "These might be the last few moments he has with his son. Do we have any right to use him in our scheme?"

"This is no scheme, Matthew, this is justice. And believe me when I say-"

There was a knock on the door and Matthew and Violet, both realizing they were a bit too close to one another for what was proper, stepped back as Carson opened the door and entered. "Mr. Mason, my lady, Mr. Crawely."

Violet smiled and waved Carson away, walking over to William's father. The man was dressed rather nicely for a farmer, even if his clothing was a bit older and not of the finest of materials. Still, it was clear that the man cared about how he presented himself to the world. He didn't splurge and waste his money on foolish bits of cloth but Matthew could tell that Mr. Mason understood that how one looked could open doors and remove barriers. A smart man indeed. He saw where William got his intelligence.

"V… Lady Crawley."

"Mr. Mason," Violet said and Matthew didn't miss how, even though she was smoother with it, she tripped over his last name the same as he had her's. He wondered what the story there was. "Please, have a seat." She gestured towards one of the sitting chairs, Matthew and Violet returning to their own. "How is William?"

The old man sighed, shoulders slumping. "He'll be with his mother soon. I suppose it makes sense… they were always so very close I imagine she'll be at the Pearly Gates, rattling them until Saint Peter lets her greet William herself." He ducked his head in shame. "I supposed that is rather blasphemous of me to say."

"I think it is a kind and wonderful thing," Matthew said. "I'll say a prayer tonight… ask my father to wait with your wife so she might have some company."

"I'd say the same for my Patrick but perhaps it is better he wait behind… he was never good at one-on-one conversations. I'll ask he have a party ready for William."

Mr. Mason brightened at that. "I… I like that. It makes it easier to think that he's going someplace full of people who can't wait to meet him." He sighed. "Though I am selfish and wish he would stay with us a bit longer. Me… his new wife…"

Matthew had heard of that. Daisy, the kitchen maid, was William's sweetheart and he'd begged her to marry him so that she might receive a widow's pension. Old Travers hadn't wanted to perform the ceremony but Violet had been firm that the man MUST. Matthew, for his part, had already called the War Office to inform them that there were witnesses to the wedding and they should not throw any fuss… Daisy would have plenty of other things to consume her thoughts.

Violet looked at Mr. Mason. "And have you considered the offer I made?"

"I have… and I believe you are right."

"Offer?" Matthew asked, confused. He hadn't heard of any offer.

"Mr. Mason is a tenant farmer for the Darnleys. You might not know this, Matthew, but Lord Grantham… my Lord Grantham, not Robert… established that I would be given control of some land near Dower House. Just a few farms, nothing quite sweeping as what Robert has, of course, but it gives me a small sense of power." She smiled at that before gesturing at Mr. Mason. "There is one, owned by the Groves family… or was. The father has passed on and the son is taken with the business world and so the farm needs someone else to run it. I have offered it to Mr. Mason… his and his family's for as long as they wish, with their fees and payments covered by Dower House."

Matthew was startled by that. It was an… insanely generous offer.

"It will be good to be closer to Downton, so I might see Daisy. And… other friends I have made." He smiled, catching Violet's eye, and now Matthew KNEW there was a story there that he was missing.

Yet he wasn't for sure if he had a right to ask. The way Violet was smiling he thought it better to merely hold his tongue.

"Now, I know you haven't asked me here to discuss that," Mr. Mason said. "What troubles you? Is… is it about William?"

"It is but I fear it not kind news."

"No, I suspected not."

"Mr. Mason," Matthew began, ready to let the old man know he could go, that they would handle things. But Violet held up her hand to silence him before pressing on.

"Matthew and I have talked to several people with knowledge of William and his company. These people are both in the military and civilians. And all paint the same picture: William's commander was not fit to lead your son or any other man into battle. He was foolish, reckless, and destructive in his acts." She pressed her lips together in a fine line. "And… we have come to believe that William lies in that bed now because of his actions."

"What… what do you mean?"

Matthew found his tongue. They were in this now so it would do no good to cover the truth with deflection. "Per testimony it is believed that William's commanding officer was ignoring orders and putting his men in danger purely to try and advance his own career."

Mr. Mason went pale, hand trembling until Violet reached over and grasped it in her own, giving it a solid squeeze.

When he didn't say anything Matthew spoke up. "I am truly sorry to burden you with this. Especially at this time. It was not our intent to give you more grief, though I confess we knew you could only feel that and nothing more with such news." He leaned forward. "The fact of the matter is that the commander of your son's company, Larry Gray, has always been someone who thought little of others. I believe these statements to be true."

"The problem," Violet added, "is proof. That final battle resulted in heavy casualties. Larry Gray survived… he is downstairs, actually. Paralyzed. He will never walk again." She gave his hand another firm squeeze. "But he will life. And he will never admit his faults and failures in that final battle. William however served as his batman. He may have been privy to knowledge-"

"Have you spoken to William about this?" Mr. Mason asked, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

"We have not," Matthew admitted. "William's greatest strength is also his greatest weakness: he is loyal. Even to Larry Gray. We fear that if we ask him he will grow silent and refuse to answer, out of a misguided feeling that he must protect the man solely because he was his commanding officer." Matthew held up a hand. "You don't have to do anything, Mr. Mason. We can figure this out ourselves. Perhaps find someone-"

Mr. Mason stood up and left the room.

Matthew sighed. "That went well."

"It isn't over yet," Violet said and followed after Mr. Mason, Matthew giving chase in case she decided to browbeat the poor grieving father the entire way. But instead Violet merely followed Mr. mason who didn't storm out of Downton or pace the halls but rather went right to the bedchambers that served as William's sick room.

"Dr. Clarkson," Mr. Mason said, his voice far firmer and stronger than it had been just moments ago… and in fact Matthew had the feeling it had a steel it hadn't possessed in weeks. "Please clear the room save for yourself. I want you as witness."

The doctor opened his mouth, clearly to protest, but one look at Violet and Matthew backing up Mr. Mason caused him to merely click his teeth together, give a firm nod, and nod to the nurses who hurried off, leaving only the five of them: Matthew, Violet, Clarkson, and two generations of Masons.

"Father?" William wheezed, like saying that simple word was the greatest battle he could ever take on. "What-"

"William," his father said sharply, "you are going to sit there and listen. You will not say a word. You don't have many of them left and I need you to cling to every single one. You understand me?" The poor chap managed a smile and Mr. Mason took a seat. "I've been talking with Mr. Crawely and he made a fine observation: your greatest strength and greatest weakness is your loyalty. I know that you put off seeing your mother as she lay dying because you were afraid of upsetting Mr. Carson. I know that you remained at Downton even when things got bad here because you did not wish to cause harm to his Lordship. I know you signed up to serve because you are proud to be an Englishman and wanted to protect us all by doing your part." He smiled and reached out, placing his hand on William's own. "I have said it many times now over the last few weeks… but I am very proud of you William. So very proud. If you are my legacy on this Earth than it has been a grand one."

William managed a smile at that.

"But now, my boy, I need you to do something for me. I need you to be loyal again. But not to who you think deserves it." The old man took a deep breath. "Your commander, Larry Gray… he is the reason you are in this bed." William opened his mouth but with utter fire in his veins Mr. Mason glared at his son and caused him to go quiet instantly. "Do not deny it. We both know it is true. And I think we both know something else… your commander made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. Ones that got people killed. I can't ever image what it is like to lead men into battle. I'm just a farmer. But I imagine it is a bit like being a father. You have these young men who look to you for strength and guidance, to help them grow and be better and live. And the good ones do that even as they mourn every failure. They do not wash their hands of their mistakes but rather own them, embrace them, and learn from them. So that they might never happen again.

"Larry Gray didn't do that, did he William? He just continued to blame others. He never allowed those errors to stain him and the cost was good men. And now he is going to go home… yes, unable to walk, but still go home. See his family, spend holidays with them, see what this war has bought for England with the blood of so many as payment.

"You can't be loyal to him now, son. He doesn't deserve it. But who does is every young lad that died because of that man. Your friends. Your fellow soldiers. Larry Gray sits down their while they are brought back to be buried. And you need to be loyal to their families. Who will mourn for them. Weep for them. Who will never see them again save in their dreams. To the sons who will never know their fathers, the wives that will never hold their husbands again. The poor parents-"

At long last the tears fell.

"-the poor parents who have to find some way to say goodbye to their baby boy." He squeezed William's hand and with all the effort and strength in existence William returned the gesture. "Now my boy… you need to tell these people everything. You need to tell them the truth, no matter what your feelings may be for your commander. Because I know you son… you are a good man. A great man. Better than I could have ever hoped for. And I want you to be able to walk up to your mother with your head held high."

It wasn't just Mr. Mason who was crying now.

Violet moved to stand beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder not just to give him comfort but to steady herself. Matthew knew that even though he'd just returned from London he'd have to go again… or convince his mother and Mary to come and visit even the Grantham Arms just so he could hug them both and weep. Even Clarkson, who had seen so much death in his many years, was misty eyed in the face of a father's final plea to his dying son to make the last bit of time he had left count.

And then Violet was proven correct. It had been wise to go to Mr. Mason.

Because William told his horrible tale.

"Captain Gray… at first he was a decent enough commander. A bit hard on the men, very hard on me… but he could be lax. Have fun. Smile and give the men a good bit of cheer. But as things began to stall out and the battles resulted in nothing gained or lost… he became desperate."

It was clear to Matthew that talking this much was taking every ounce of William's strength.

"He… he began to command us to take greater risks. He felt that high command was being too cautious. That if they had a bit more daring we could win the battle and maybe even the war."

"He ignored orders?" Matthew pressed, needing to hear this. Needing everyone to hear it.

"He did," William finally admitted. "he was told… many times to fall back. He refused. He didn't want to give up a scrap of earth. A few times commanders came to question him and he claimed the messengers never came to give him the orders. But… but I saw him burn them. He told me he knew better and if I didn't obey he'd have me shot for treason." William coughed and Matthew was alarmed by the bit of blood that leaked from his lips.

"William, you must rest," Dr. Clarkson said, finally finding his voice.

But the former footman shook his head. "I… don't have time to rest. I don't think… I don't…" he grew silent before suddenly rallying, is voice stronger even if it did tremble. "When men questioned him he gave them orders to go scout and then would forget to send support, so they'd be all on their own." He turned to his father. "He didn't forget… did he?"

"No son," Mr. Mason whispered, "he didn't." Violet shut her eyes at that for it seemed those four little words were a greater blow to William than the explosion that had torn his inside apart.

And still there was more to say.

"Then came… the final battle. By… by then… Captain Gray was… near mad with desperation. He… he cursed the generals and the field commanders. He said… he told me that… they were… conspiring… against him. But… he would see them… punished." William shuddered and shook before through sheer force of William he blurted out, "He said… we'd shoot them like… all traitors."

Every nerve in Matthew's body flared at once, the hairs on the back of his arms and along his neck standing on end as he realized what William was saying.

"Oh God," he got out, the cold flashes racing through his limbs and along his spine. "It wasn't the Germans."

"What?" Clarkson said.

"William… you have to say it," Matthew said. The young man blinked back tears, so very pale, but in that moment Matthew knew what to say. "William… you are a man of Downton. Now do your DUTY!"

And just as with Kamal Pamuk… William Mason rose to the occasion.

"He told the men to turn… and marched us on our own lines."

God Himself could have descended and declared He would share with them all the meaning of life… and still William would have been the one to leave them thunderstruck.

"I… I tried to stop them… once I knew…" William couldn't even cry anymore, the effort too great. "That's… how I ended up… where I was… I tried… to save them… I tried… I tried… I…"

The young man went utterly still, his chest barely rising and falling.

"Dr. Clarkson… as a member of the British Military… has William Mason done his duty and served his country?" Matthew asked, barely keeping it together.

"He… he has," Clarkson got out.

"Dowager Countess Violet Crawley… has William Mason brought honor to Downton?"

"To the highest level," she got out even as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Albert Mason… has your son earned his place in our family's legacy?"

"He stands above all others," Mr. Mason said, never looking away from his son.

At 2:15pm Matthew Crawley rose and saluted William. "William Mason… you are relieved. Rest solider… rest."

At 2:16pm… William Mason walked through the Pearly Gates and embraced his mother once again.

His work was done.

For those that he left behind though…

Tears in his eyes and fury in his heart Matthew let out a roar, grabbing the chair he'd been sitting on and hurling it against the wall, shattering it and destroying part of the wall itself. The others leapt back, startled, but he didn't care.

Damn it all.

"Dr. Clarkson," Matthew hissed, "get the military police… now."

The doctor hurried out the door just as Carson raced in, Robert fast on his heels. "What is the-" Carson went silent before suddenly swaying, Robert catching him. "Oh…. oh." He struggled to contain himself, to keep himself from disgracing his position.

Robert merely held onto the butler, offering support.

And still Matthew trembled with rage.

"Mama," Robert said before looking at Mr. Mason. "Sir, I am so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, your Lordship" Mr. Mason whispered, shoulders hunched up and body stiff. "But it isn't merely grief that haunts us now."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Violet was the one who spoke. "We have learned of betrayal, Robert. Betrayal of the highest order. That cost young William and countless other men their lives."

Robert swallowed at that. "What is it, mama? Do not dance around it… I have a feeling it will be better if I know right now."

"Larry Gray," Violet said, spitting out the name like the most foul of curses, "became so delusional during his command that he led William's company in a charge… against the British lines."

"No…" Robert whispered in growing horror. "He… the man's a prat but…"

"He's more than that, Robert," Matthew growled, tasting blood in his mouth and smelling the gunpowder and the mud of the Somme. "He's a monster. That's his role in life, apparently." And then he was moving forward, much to the surprise of the others. "And it's time I play my role again."

"You're role?"

Matthew grabbed a firepoker. "The man that slays the monsters."

That startled everyone out of their shock, Robert moving to block Matthew's way only for the young man to move past him with a determined stride. It was all his fault… Larry and his damnable ego! Once more he hadn't been first choice, hadn't been the one the world flocked to and praised, so he'd decided that instead of making himself better he'd make others worse. He was sitting down on the first floor brooding over his loss and not once considering all the pain and suffering he had caused. Or worse he was down there laughing and living it up, sharing war stories and playing frivolous games while families sobbed over their graves of their loved ones.

And what was worse… what truly brought Matthew's rage to a boil… was those were his men. In another life they had been his to command. Yes, he had brought many of them to a bad end but that had occurred despite his desires. He had done all he could to bring the men home and while he had lost man far more had survived and gotten home. Miller. Timmons. Tall Smith who insisted they call him that even though Short Smith had died months earlier. Finn. Blackreed and his cards. Depton. He knew all their names. Their faces swam up past his eyes and he remembered them all. They had gone HOME.

And now they were dead. Their second chance stolen.

Because of Larry Gray.

'Slay the monster'

Matthew burst out of the room, firepoker in hand… only to jerk as a sharp pain struck his neck. He turned to see Sybil standing there, a syringe in her hand. Matthew grabbed at the back of his neck before stumbling as he suddenly felt… very tired.

"My word!" Robert exclaimed, rushing out as Matthew stumbled and leaned against the wall. "Sybil, whatever did you do?"

"Saved him from the gallows, papa, even if I think no jury should have convicted him," Sybil said. "Dr. Clarkson told me what happened. I'm just glad I had some sedative ready." She leaned down even as the world grew fuzzy around Matthew. "Sleep… I'll make sure you're nice and restrained when you wake up." She smirked and patted his check even as darkness overtook him.