AN: Oh my dear readers, I've been so busy I've been neglecting to update! Man, I do miss Downton with Matthew and Mary! I forgot to include a recap last time, so this time I will!

RECAP: Mary and Matthew elope quickly and quietly and successfully bribe their way into a falsified marriage certificate. At dinner, Robert has another outburst that has Mary fleeing to the nursery where Charlie is afraid of monsters. She soothes him as best she can in the midst of her own emotional outburst, which Matthew hears. He comes in and expertly handles the situation with the "Monster", and he and Mary have a heart to heart, leading them to the conclusion that they still love each other, and must do everything they possibly can to be a good family for their son.

For her part, Mary had never been happier. Her family adored Charles, and Charles was no less enamored by them. He spent his days being doted upon by his Aunts, who he thought were a great deal of fun, especially Aunt Sybil who had so much energy that he was ready to fall asleep the moment she returned him to the nursery, but that's not to say that he didn't love his Aunt Edith, for she had a wonderful reading voice, and he often would clamour up into her lap with one of his little books. His granny Isobel was always a keen listener, and his Grammy Cora always had a sweet or a little gift for him, and of course Gran Violet was always more than willing to fawn over his drawings with a wink and nod.

But most of all, he adored Matthew, and the feeling was absolutely mutual. Charlie loved to climb up onto his father's lap, and go for a ride in the magnificent wheeled chair he always sat in. Though he could not understand why his father could not get out of the chair, why he could not chase him, or stand up and pluck something from a shelf in his nursery, but he quickly accepted his papa's chair as a fact of life, and learned never to question it aloud.

The most tricky thing had indeed been finding a balance in her relationship with Matthew. The first few days she felt as if her body was in a constant state of confusion; to have him so physically near was intoxicating, she wanted him like mad, desired him, and yet there was no satisfaction. In the first few days they kissed often, and passionately, relearning and exploring until she ached for him.

For Matthew's part, he felt he was near madness. For four years he had been haunted by the memory of Mary's bed, wishing he was there again, wishing that he had never written that letter, wishing that she loved him as desperately as he loved her. And now the wish had come true- but oh, fate was cruel! To be so near to Mary, to kiss her and hold her, that he could do, but when it came to making love again, to the reaction any man's body should have had without a moment's hesitation, his body was frustratingly silent.

Their frantic kissing quickly turned into quick, comforting pecks, long lingering touches turned to pats and brief shoulder squeezes. Passion melted into comfortable friendship and companionship, much to the chagrin of both parties.

"I think we ought to have a family day, out in the park, just the three of us." Mary suggested as they sat in the parlor one evening after dinner. "Perhaps a picnic?"

"I think that's a splendid idea. Charlie's scarce been away from the abbey; it'll be good for him, to have him away from the soldiers and all of the injury for a while." Matthew sighed, looking down at himself. "Well, not all of the injury I suppose."

"Now don't start that again Matthew. When he looks at you he sees his papa, who he loves so dearly; he doesn't see any injury, and frankly, I don't either." Mary insisted, squeezing his hand. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow we'll go out to the park, we'll have a picnic."

"Capital." He smiled, kissing the back of her hand. From across the room Robert let out a sputtering sigh. Mary frowned, but Matthew squeezed her hand. "Ignore him Mary."

"He's a storm cloud hanging over our head, He won't even acknowledge our son- to that end, Charlie is scared to death of him! He's his own flesh, he should at least acknowledge his existence." Mary sighed. "But all he sees when he looks at Charlie is a constant reminder of my betrayal and my failure." Matthew grew tense as he caught Robert's eye across the room.

"You've never failed anyone, Mary. We agreed a long time ago that the only one with any right to be angry was me, and I've forgiven you. Nothing else matters." He said, putting a hand on her cheek.

"Oh, you two are so romantic!" Sybil sighed from where she sat playing cards with her mother and grandmother. "I hope that when I marry, my husband looks at me with a look half so tender as what Matthew gives Mary!"

"After all of this trouble, you will be fortunate if I consent for you to marry at all." Robert growled. The room grew tensely silent; Edith and Sir Anthony, caught the closest to Robert quickly tried to make amends, suggesting a game of cards, but Robert's eyes were caught on his eldest daughter.

"Oh do be quiet darling. You never know who might be listening in these days." Cora suggested with a tense smile. "After all we wouldn't want the private affairs of our family to be repeated all over the county, would we?"

"Of course not, we can't have anyone know that the perfect little Crawley family is anything but! After all, look at the model citizens our daughters are; why, Little Sybil, a nurse, a regular Florence Nightingale! Edith, engaged to a respectable man, a war hero no less, with a sizable estate! And Mary, we cannot forget dear, darling Mary! The long suffering wife, the mother of our heir, everyone's hero Mary!" Robert cried, taking another long drink of his brandy. "And let's not forget our son in law! A good, honest chap for the most part isn't he? Captain Crawley can do no wrong, of course, who would dare accuse him of such a thing while he sits in that pathetic chair of his?"

"Enough!" Mary roared, rising from her seat with extraordinary swiftness. "How dare you insult my husband! How dare you insult the bravest, most wonderful man anywhere in the world! If you're in a quarrelsome mood, as I can see you are, though who wouldn't be after drinking so much wine and brandy as you have, then you may lay your grievances at my feet, you may even get into a heated argument with Matthew, who I assure you is more than capable of holding his own, but you may not insult him, may not belittle the weight of the sacrifice he made for our country! How dare you!" By the end of her tirade, angry tears had formed in her eyes, and her hands were trembling fiercely.

"Matthew is-"

"Is an excellent father! An excellent husband, an outstanding man! What was it that Imogene said to her tyrannical father Cymbeline? "He is a man worth any woman, over buys me almost the sum he pays!"" Mary quoted with precision. She scarcely noticed as Matthew wheeled up behind her, and placed a hand on the small of her back. Robert stared at her a moment, his mouth agape, and then he slammed down his glass.

"I wish, more than anything, that I had done something to keep Patrick here when his father bought them tickets to sail on the Titanic. He had offered, to stay behind so that we could announce your engagement sooner, but I said "No, no, you must go, you'll be back in only two weeks, no harm done!"! Was I ever wrong! Patrick never would have dared to disrespect me so under my own roof, would never have dared to touch Mary before they had married, and furthermore, if I had never let him go, then you, you would never have entered our lives!" He said, pointing accusatorially at Matthew. "And then-"

"And then what, Sir?" Matthew asked, his voice icy and calm. "And then there would be no scandal? No Charles to avoid like the plague, no daughter to constantly blame for everything? I understand why you're angry with me. You let me into your home, and I betrayed your trust. I can even understand why you would be angry with Mary, but what right does that give you to yell and scream, and throw a tantrum as if you were no older than the grandson you ignore?"

"How dare you-"

"I'm not finished, Sir!" Matthew said, wheeling forward a bit. "You clearly do not wish to have us under your roof, but rather have consented to having us for the sake of the succession. Well, we do not wish to be a perpetual thorn in your paw. If my wife will consent, as soon as I am well enough, we shall begin to search for a home of our own."

"No! You mustn't leave us!" Cora gasped.

"No, I think we must. I believe that Matthew is right. Space and time are the only ways to heal this wound." Mary insisted, taking his hand. "We'll begin to search for a home of our own as soon as possible."

"In Manchester." he added. Mary looked at him, arching her brow, but her frown melted into a smile. "I was doing well there; I've had letters from my old firm, since I was injured. A job offer- I wasnt going to take it, but all things considered...well, Manchester was a wonderful place to grow up, Mary. I know I could do well for us there."

"I trust you implicitly." Mary assured him, kneeling by his side. "Its settled then." she pressed a kiss to his lips quickly.

"Oh this is bloody fantastic isn't it?" Robert asked,sloshing his drink over the side of his glass.

"All Right Old bean. I think that you've had plenty to drink." Anthony said, using his good hand to pull the drink from the intoxicated Lord's hands. Robert quickly, or as quickly as his inebriated senses would allow him, swatted at the man, but missed, and fell over. Cora was at his side in a moment, with Sybil, whose nursing instincts had kicked in.

"He took a bump to the head, but its nothing drastic. He'll have a worse headache from the drink than from the hit."

"I'll ring for Carson, have him and a few of the others take him up to bed." Cora sighed, and ran her hand over his face.

"I think that we ought to retire ourselves." Mary said, putting a hand on Matthew's knee. Without so much as looking, he took her hand, and then looked to her hand sharply. How had he known that her hand has been there? Surely he couldn't feel it now, he was looking at it, and there was no sense of it at all, but he could swear that he had felt...something! He let out a sigh, and smiled at his wife. "Shall we then?"

"Actually, Mary, may I wheel my son in?" Isobel asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh- of course. Certainly, if that's alright with Matthew?" Mary said, and he shrugged. "Alright. I'll be in with you in a moment darling, I'm only going to go in and check on Charlie."

"I'll see you in a moment then." Matthew said. Isobel smiled, and wheeled him out.

"So things are going well for you and your bride, then?" She asked.

"Extremely." Matthew nodded with a smile. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason my boy, just wondering." Isobel said as she opened his door.

"Right. Well, goodnight then mother." He said, wheeling himself in and going to close the door.

"Just a moment." She said suddenly, putting her foot in the door. "Actually, there was a reason that I asked."

"Alright?" He opened the door, and summoned her in. She closed the door and went to sit in the chair by the window. He watched her curiously and rolled his chair over to her. She cleared her throat, and pulled a folded, wrinkled piece of paper from a small bag at her wrist.

"May I ask what this is all about, mother?" In answer, she unfolded the paper, and slid it across the small table. He looked at her with narrowed eyes, and picked it up, quickly recognizing his own handwriting. "Where did you get this-" She took the paper back again, and began to read it outloud.

"Dearest Mary, This isn't easy to write, beautiful Mary, especially not after the night that we shared. Actually, as I am writing this, you're asleep-"

"Where did you get this?" He asked, taking the paper back again, his face turning red.

"Matthew, when I found out about Charlie, I was furious with Mary...I couldn't figure out why she would leave, why she wouldn't have told you about him. I thought, what a selfish girl, what possibly could have convinced her to run off like that?But today, Mary asked me to fetch something for Charlie from her room, and I found this in the side of the trunk. This...letter, Matthew! What on earth were you thinking?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that Mother!"

"I'm certain you had your reasons, son. Surely, something horrible and drastic happened in the span of time between the moment you conceived your son, and the moment you wrote her this letter, but the fact remains that you wrote this...awful letter to a woman who you had just...just, made love to!" Isobel said, her face turning red with anger.

"Mother!"

"Matthew Reginald Crawley, I thought that your father and I raised you better than this- we told you to respect women, especially women you claimed to love!"

"Do not question whether I love Mary, Mother, because I love her more than I love anything in the world except for our son." Matthew insisted in earnest.

"That may be true, son, but you didn't fight for her." He opened his mouth to protest, and she held up her hand. "Now I don't know what on earth could have possessed you to write this letter to her. Maybe she said something horrible, maybe she said something that made you fear being spurned again, I don't know, and I don't care to. But you certainly gave up quickly. Sure, you both made a foolish mistake, obviously I cannot condone the fact that you did take her virginity without the benefit of marriage! Now, certainly, in times of war, the rules are a bit different. People do things like that out of desperation, for something to hold onto- but Matthew, you are not like that. You never were any ways. I cannot believe that you would even dare to touch Mary if you did not intend to marry her soon afterwards!"

"I obviously intended to Mother! I just- I-" Any defense he could come up with seemed pathetic now as he stammered. "Oh God. You're right. I….I just gave up on her. So easily. It's no wonder she thought I hated her- how could she not have? I wrote that letter!"

"I think, in light of this discovery, it's clear that everyone has been a touch too hard on Mary." Isobel said, laying her hand on her son's hand. "She could have said something about this letter at any moment , but she didn't. She must really love you."

The words hit Matthew like an enormous weight falling upon his chest. Tears formed in his eyes as suddenly, the life he could have led flashed before his eyes. The letter never being written, the next morning he should have asked her, like a man, exactly what she meant by the words she spoke in her dream, and of course he could have forgiven her her indiscretion- could have forgiven her anything! An engagement announced within a week of that night- of course, she would have discovered that she was expecting before the wedding, but they would have taken the news almost thankfully, pushing the date of the wedding up. He would not have enlisted so directly, no, he would have waited as long as he could for his child to be born. He would have been there that day, to reassure his wife, to be the second one to hold him. But this future had been taken away from him by his own hand.

"What have I done?" He asked with a shuddering sob.

"You made a mistake. You paid dearly for it." Isobel said, sighing. "Which isn't to say that I've let Mary off of the hook entirely, I still think she ought to have spoken up sooner about Charles, but what's done is done. Now Mary has apologized to you a thousand times over, have you apologized to her?"

"Not nearly enough." he almost laughed.

"Then I would recommend that you do." She kissed his head as she rose from her seat. "I'll ring for Bates on my way out."

"Mother." He said as she did so, and she looked at him over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I did fail you. You raised me well, and I've failed you."

"No my dear boy, no. You didn't- not when you are trying so desperately to rectify the situation." She smiled at him. "Goodnight my dear boy. I'll see you in the morning." With that she let herself out. Matthew sighed, and wiped his eyes before Bates came to help him ready for bed, which he did in silence. Most nights, the two men talked, but Matthew's mind was too wound up in what he would say to Mary. She arrived all too soon, her red dressing gown tied tightly around her waist, and her long locks of hair tied in a braid over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry that I took so long coming darling, Charlie was up again- he's been having a tough time falling asleep since we arrived at Downton, but I suppose if we're going to be moving to Manchester, it doesn't matter that he hasn't quite settled in." Mary said as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Goodness, what an evening." She laid back rather heavily, and he pulled her head so that it was resting on his lap, and began to stroke her hair. "Mmm. That feels heavenly." he didn't say anything. "Is everything alright? Did your mother say something to upset you?" She asked, sitting up to look at him. He frowned as he grabbed the letter from the bedside table. She stiffened. "How did you find that?"

"I didn't, my mother did."

"When- oh no, I asked her to look in the trunk for Charlie's boots- I'd forgotten it was in there." Mary groaned.

"You kept it." He continued.

"I did."

"Why?"

"Well, for the last four years, it was my only link to you, except for Charlie. Your handwriting...I could hear your voice when I was reading it...and even if I didn't love the words, it was strangely comforting." Mary said, casting her eyes down. "And when I came here, well, I never dreamed you would forgive me so easily. I thought I might need it to hold on to."

"Oh God...Mary, I'm so sorry." Matthew said with a trembling voice.

"You're sorry? I thought we agreed to stop apologizing?"

"When you were doing all of the apologizing, Mary, I should never have written this letter. I shouldn't have run away- I should have stayed, I should have fought for you, I should never have let you leave." He said, gripping her shoulders.

"No, Matthew, I could have said something just as easily-"

"No, Mary, let me finish. It was my mistake, my mistake that sent you running, that didn't let you have a chance to explain, that made you feel like you had no choice but to leave everything you've ever known. Mary, I'm so sorry. All I can think of is how life might have been if I had just woken you up and asked you...Oh God, Mary, all of the wasted years, and it's my fault."

"Are you finished now?" Mary asked calmly. He nodded, and Mary didn't hesitate to kiss him deeply before resting her head on his chest.

"Mary-"

"Don't say anything. Matthew, I...I...I love you, I love seeing you with Charlie, I love that I get to sleep beside you, and get to talk to you at any time of the day or night. The past cannot hurt us now, cannot be allowed to hurt us. We've come so far- You were there tonight, Matthew, we were a united front, we stood for eachother, we defended each other, because we love each other, because we are a family! You told me to stop apologizing, and now it's my turn. We're even, there's no need to apologize for anything we've already done."

"That doesn't change the fact that I feel like rubbish." Matthew sighed. "And that there will never be a day that goes by that I won't regret writing that letter; And I will never, never, stop trying to make it up to you." He kissed her hair, and she sighed and settled in beside him. "I love you Mary, so terribly much."

"As I love you my dearest, as I love you." She yawned.

AN: There it is- They're working through things, but of course, new drama comes up because, well, downton isn't downton without the drama! Don't worry, I have good things planned here!