AN: Here we go, another chapter! I know, I know, it's been an AGE since I updated! But I'm here now! Goodness, I just rewatched the very first episode of Downton- I forgot how much I really loved it at the very beginning (Of course, I still loved it later, but there's nothing like the beginning!)

Now, this chapter is broken up into three rather long sections, and I must warn you that the last section nearly borders an "M" rating, but as it is plot important, and the only part of the story that is so close to "M" I'm not going to change the rating. If you are uncomfortable with that, then I will be posting a brief recap at the start of the next chapter, so you can skip the last section if that is your choice.

RECAP: Robert finally has a slight break through, and realizes that perhaps, he has been a bit in the wrong, after he finally spends time with his grandson. Mary has time to catch up with Sybil, who asks her all sorts of questions about love and Marriage, and hints at a possible romantic attachment of her own, which leads Mary to confess that she wishes she could have another child, which was, unbeknownst to her, overheard by Matthew, who feels fresh guilt about tying her to himself in his current state.

November 1918

Mary's fingers tapped anxiously against the arm of the sofa. She couldn't quite explain why, but in the last few months, she knew that something had shifted, had altered her relationship with her husband. He no longer seemed to like sharing his bed with her, though the few nights she had slept there he hadn't made a word of protest. But he seemed to have ceased to kiss her or to touch her in any way at all, and it was maddening! Of course, he still spoke to her kindly, and often, but mostly about Charlie, not that she could pretend that he wasn't just the most important thing in their lives. But his reassurances of his love had all but ceased, and she couldn't understand what she had done that had changed things so very much, not when everything else seemed to be going so well!

Her father was finally coming round, for one thing. He may not have gone back to treating her with the love and respect he once had, but he had ceased his constant insults, and slights, and had, on several occasions, taken Charlie, or "Charles" as he called him, out on gentle rides on prized horses, and had even adopted a new pup which Charlie had been allowed to name; of course, her father had been slightly upset when the small boy had named the gray dog "Grandpapa" but he would not be sold on any other name.

And then, almost too conveniently, the practice that Matthew had worked for before the war, when he had lived in Crawley house had offered him a new position, which payed much better than the one he had held before, so all talk of moving to Manchester had ceased as well. Mary had finally thought that things were settling, that perhaps, even with the war, even with Matthew's injury, and Charlie's less than ideal beginning, they could be happy...but now…

"Mary, dear, is something the matter?" Isobel asked quietly. Mary jumped a bit even so, having been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed her mother-in-law taking the seat beside her.

"No, why on earth would there be?" Mary laughed lightly. Isobel looked at her dubiously. "Well, I suppose there is something the matter, but it's nothing to trouble anyone else with."

"That's no attitude to have, Mary. If something is troubling you, you know I'd like to help you in anyway that I can." Isobel said so sincerely that Mary felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes. In the last few months, it seemed that as Matthew had grown more distant, she had grown closer to his mother.

"Oh Isobel, it's frightfully stupid I'm afraid." Mary whispered, and glanced around the room. The men, or rather, her father, husband, and Sir Antony, were all in his study, and her sisters and mother were thoroughly engrossed in a card game across the room. "...But I'm terribly afraid that Matthew...that he doesn't love me anymore."

"Now what would put a ridiculous thought like that in your head, my dear girl?" Isobel asked, taking her hand. Mary sighed, and recounted everything. Isobel listened patiently, never interrupting once, keeping her face expressionless, but with no lack of patience and understanding in her kind eyes. "Oh my dear, sweet daughter." She finally sighed when Mary had finished speaking, and opened her mouth to say more when the door burst open.

"It's over! The war, it's over!" Robert declared loudly as he strode into the room, still holding the telegram he had received. Anthony and Matthew were at his heels, with Carson following close behind. It was silent for a moment before everyone burst out speaking over eachother. Cora and Robert kissed, and shared a tender embrace, Sybil raced over to embrace Isobel, who she had also come to respect as a mother like figure, and Edith and Anthony began a whispered conversation. Mary rose from her seat, and went to kneel at Matthew's side. She laid a hand on his leg, and looked at him with wide brown eyes. His eyes closed for a moment, and his face seemed to pucker in confusion.

"Matthew, Darling, what is it?" She asked, reaching cautiously for his hand. He opened his eyes with a sigh, and took her hand, pressing it to his lips.

"Nothing. I'm just relieved, is all. It's over. No more young men gone before their time, like William. No more pretty young wives bound to useless broken men, like-" He was cut off as Robert began to speak, but Mary couldn't hear a single word he said. She stared intently at her husband's face, even though he refused to meet her eyes. Suddenly, she stood up, and walked to the door.

"Mary, dear, where are you going?" Cora asked.

"I'm quite sorry, I don't wish to dampen everyone's good spirit; I'm afraid I'm not quite feeling myself, and the news has over excited me. I'm going to retire." Mary said, and left before anyone could say anything else. Once, when she was a little girl, the family had gone to the seaside. She had adored the water, and always wanted to be in it, even though her father and mother insisted that she didn't set foot in it until she had someone with her. But being so stubborn and impatient as she was, she had gone in, and a large wave had swept over her, carrying her away as she had filled her lungs with the icy salt water, thinking she would drown before her father pulled her to safety. It was painful, even to remember, and she had never set foot in the ocean since; and so she had never expected to feel the painful clenching of her chest that came from breathing in water instead of air ever again. But here she was, on solid ground, surrounded by those who loved her, and she was drowning. The further she went from the sitting room, the more quickly she moved, until she was holding up her skirt, with both hands full of the silky fabric, so she could run as quickly as possible. She opened her bedroom door, and collapsed against the wall at once, biting back the scream that was building up in her throat.

In a daze, she began to undress herself, fumbling and ripping off buttons, peeling away gloves and stockings, even pulling every carefully placed pin from her hair until she was left in only her silky underthings, and her matted hair fell wildly around her shoulders. She was vaguely aware that she had broken her necklace in her half crazed attempt to remove it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her earrings and hair combs hadn't fared much better anyhow- the only piece of jewelry she didn't touch was the golden band around her finger- she nearly had peeled it off with her glove; but it was a symbol, however big of a sham their marriage had seemed at the start, of the bond she had, or had had, with her husband, and she couldn't bear to touch it. She sank to the floor, and began to cry, the sound coming out like loud, shuddering breaths. She hardly noticed the door creaking open, and nearly turned to send away whomever had been brave enough to dare to enter her bedroom now.

"Mama?" Her anger melted away at the sound of her son's sweet little voice. He padded over to her, his bare feet slapping against the floor with clumsy thudding sounds. He put his chubby little hands on her cheeks and looked into her eyes. "Mama sad?"

"Oh my dear, dear boy!" She said with a trembling voice. She scooped him up in her arms, and settled on the bed, holding him close to her, and smelling his hair. "How on earth did you escape your cradle?"

"Charlie climb. Charlie big!" The little boy said very seriously. At any other moment, Mary might have laughed, but now the words only made her feel as though she would cry again. "Mama cry? 'S alright. Charlie here." He said, and tucked his face into the crook of his beloved Mama's neck.

"My darling, darling boy." Mary said, letting the hot tears slip from her eyes, and fall into his curly blonde hair. She felt another wave of discomfort in her chest, as she realized that the amount of time she would have to be able to cradle her son like this, to have his face buried in her neck, as if she were the greatest and only comfort in the world, would soon be gone. In April, he would be four, and while she wasn't quite worried about that, she could only imagine that once a boy reached five, he wouldn't care for his mother so much anymore. She held him closer and rocked him back and forth, with a well practiced move that she had been perfecting since the day that he was born, until she felt his breath begin to become even. "My darling, I'm afraid Mama has made another mess of things." She whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair again. "And the worst of it is, I don't know what I've done this time. Of all of the reasons there have ever been for your father to be angry with me, to hate me...I can't imagine how whatever I have done here and now has been so bad."

"Mi'lady?" Anna's soft voice sounded from the outside before she cracked the door open."Oh, Mary!" She gasped, and slipped into the room as quickly as she could before closing the door tightly.

"Oh Anna, I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize- it's simple to clean up." She whispered, noticing the sleeping Charles perched on his mother's knees. Mary carefully moved him aside, and kissed his forehead before tucking him gently beneath the heavy quilts. Anna was at her side in a moment, wrapping her arms around her employer and best friend at once as Mary began to cry again.

"I'm sorry; I'm sorry- I'm stronger than this, I know that I am!" Mary sobbed into her friend's shoulder. She knew that it wasn't proper- After all, Anna was her employee! But she couldn't deny that Anna was the person she felt was nearest and dearest to her, apart from her immediate family. Anna had put her own life on hold to accompany her to New York, and to help her through the darkest part of her life, when she had had almost no hope at all. And Mary loved her dearly for it.

"Oh Mary, no one has to be strong all of the time! And you're the strongest person that I've ever known- no really, you are! You had your son alone, you raised him so well! That dear, wonderful little man has known more love and happiness in these three years than many children know in their whole lifetimes! And so, if you need to cry, Mary, you go right ahead, and you cry. It doesn't mean you're weak, it means that you're human, and by God, there's no shame in that. Now, I'd say what you need, Mary dear, is a nice hot soak in the tub with a bit of lavender. I'll organize a tub for you, we'll dress you in your softest dressing gown, and you can have a good soak and a good cry where no one will bother you." Anna insisted.

"Oh, Anna. I don't know what I did to deserve a friend as loyal as you."

…..

Apart from Isobel and Matthew, no one really seemed to pay any mind to Mary's strange departure from the room. They called together the officers from the convalescent home who were well enough to be up and about, as well as several of the staff, and poured glasses of champagne to celebrate, but Matthew couldn't seem to feel anything but the sharp sting of regret.

"Matthew, dearest." Isobel said quietly, before wheeling him to the corner of the the room to speak to him more privately.

"Mother, if this is about why Mary left-"

"Not only about that, Matthew, no." Isobel shook her head, and took a seat on a prim wooden chair. "Now, please explain to me dear, how the woman you claim to love more than life itself-"

"Claim to love?!" Matthew scoffed, but Isobel didn't bat an eye at it.

"Yes, how the woman you claim to love has come to think that you don't love her anymore?" the words hit Matthew like a blow to the chest.

"She thinks...what?"

"Matthew, Mary is quite convinced that she's done something that has put you off of her forever. Now, I can't quite imagine what that would be now, if running away with your child in her body didn't do it." Isobel said, arching her eyebrow in a way quite like Mary did.

"I...mother, I do love her."

"I know that, Matthew. But Mary does not. And goodness me, after hearing the way that you have been distancing yourself from her, I'm hardly surprised! Now Mary is a strong woman- I'll admit to you that she's much stronger than I am, but she loves you so dearly, my son, and if she were to lose you-"

"She can't have me, mother!" Matthew blurted out a smidgen too loudly and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not, not really anyway. I had thought that- you see, we knew that we'd never…. And then…" he sighed as his face turned pink out of shame and embarrassment. "She's only twenty seven, Mother, and she was a good deal younger when she and I…. Well, when Charlie was born. She had to waste so much of her youth because of me. And when we finally made things right, or as right as they could be, I vowed I'd do whatever was in my power to make up for that; and I thought that we were happy, but then...I heard her talking to Sybil." his voice caught a bit in his throat there.

"About how she'd like another child?" Isobel asked.

"Did she speak to you too?!"

"No, she didnt. But a woman knows what another woman longs for in her heart. It's the look in her eye when she's with Charlie; the look of wanting something more."

"Even you could see what I couldn't. It was foolish of me to think Mary could be happy like this! She's twenty seven years old, and if she wants another child, or five more children, she's plenty young enough to be able to have them, but she can't, because she's been tied to me...and I keep thinking, surely, there had to have been a better way than to saddle her with a useless husband like me- even if i had died-"

"Don't you dare continue that line of thought!" Isobel nearly growled. "If you had died, we would never have known Charlie at all, because as much as Mary claimed she came back for the family, she came back for you, Matthew, because she loves you, and she wanted her son, your son to know you. Now, I could sit here and lecture you for another hour or two about what a thick headed, idiot you've been, but I think that you would much rather go speak to your wife, like a grown man, instead of a little boy chastised by his mother."

…(warning, this is the section where it borderlines on an M rating!)...

Matthew wheeled himself directly as he could to Mary's room; but he stopped suddenly when he heard something heartstopping from the bathing room they shared. The quiet sound of his wife's heartbroken sobs. Suddenly, Matthew didn't feel like a full grown man. He was transported back to his childhood, and a summer day at the lake; his father had told him not to enter the water alone, but he hadn't listened. He had stepped into a drop off, and filled his lungs with lakewater as he gasped in surprise. It had been extremely painful, but it was nothing compared to the crushing weight on his chest now. Without thinking much, he opened the door, and wheeled himself in.

"Mary, I-" He stopped short when he saw her. She was as beautiful as he had ever seen her, glistening and pink from the warm water of the bath- but her eyes were full of tears that emphasized the pain she was in. He was so struck by the sorrow in her eyes that for a few moments, he hardly noticed that she was naked. He abruptly turned away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come in without asking."

"No, it's, it's quite alright, darling." Mary said, clearing her throat and trying to make it sound as if she hadn't been crying. "Did you need something?"

"Mary, how could you possibly think that I don't love you anymore?" he asked, still facing away from her.

"It's not an Impossible assumption, given our past." Mary said warily. "It's only, I can't figure out what I did to make you turn from me, and treat me so coldly. And it's driving me mad!"

"My darling, beautiful Mary, I'm so sorry." he said, blinking back his own tears. "It's only that, you see, I heard you talking to Sybil." Mary's breath caught in her throat- she hardly needed him to tell her what conversation he had heard, for it seemed she knew at once. "Mary, I've been so very guilty, since I heard it. And more furious and embarrassed than ever about my body's inability to give you what you want so dearly. I began to think that, By God, if only I had died instead of William. The lie still might have worked; a false document saying that you and I were married, and then Charlie could have been the direct heir. You would have been free to marry, Mary, and could have found a man who could have given you all of the children that your heart desires, who could have worshiped your body, the way someone ought to, but as things stand now- goodness!" he gasped as a soaking wet Mary, scarcely wrapped in a towel at all, climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"Oh, you stupid, stupid man!" she laughed in exasperation, and was trembling from cold and pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Can't you see that I would never have wanted those things with anyone except for you? You're my everything, Matthew, and if you cannot have any more children, then I don't wish to have any! Because we're a pair, you and I!" she kissed him soundly, holding him tightly to her. "And as for making love, my dear…" she almost purred in his ear, "After having you, even for just that one night...I know that anyone else would have been a disappointment." no sooner had the words passed her lips than he was kissing her soundly, and holding her maddeningly close to his body, wanting to feel every curve of her that he could. Acting on instinct, he kissed his way down her neck to shoulder, for even years later he remembered the way that gently biting the skin there would make her gasp and arch her back. He was not disappointed. The towel fell away, and she was entirely bare before him; heat, familiar and long forgotten pooled into the base of his stomach as he gazed at her until- "Matthew!" she gasped, nearly hopping off of him, but he was holding her too tightly, and refused to let her go. "Darling, I don't mean to ruin the moment, or to sound crass- but is that...I mean, Matthew, have you…" he looked at her curiously, still half mad with the raging desire that pulsed through him, from the top of his head to the-

"By God-" he gasped, almost afraid to move. It would hardly be the first time since his injury that he had dreamed of something like this, only to wake disappointed and as still and lifeless beneath his trousers as ever. It suddenly occurred to him that that particular part of his anatomy, though the one that was clearly the most responsive, was not the only one that felt different. He could feel a slight tingling in his toes, which he had felt, but never mentioned for fear of being laughed at or called foolish for hoping; and what was more, where his wife was settled on his lap he could feel a sort of pressure that was almost painful, as if his legs were being pricked with thousands of red hot needles, but the pain was blessed to him, because it proved that this was no dream. Dreams never hurt him, no that was only real life. He let out a laugh of disbelief- for weeks now he had thought he could feel something, but he hadn't dared to hope! Cautiously, he focused all of his attention on moving his knee, just slightly towards the other. The movement was slow, and sent jolts of pain up the length of his body, but he had done it!

"Oh Matthew!" Mary gasped, and pressed kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his nose, every surface of his skin where her lips could find purchase, which was quickly bringing to both of their attention the reason they had noticed a change in the first place. She placed both of her hands on his shoulders and tried to make her breathing even again. "We should really...I suppose...go to fetch the doctor…" but she made no movement to leave him.

"We should…" he said, without feeling. Even as they spoke he was running his large, strong hands over the silken planes of her skin. She was trembling again, she could feel him against her, and it was a miracle, a delicious miracle!

"We can't darling, can we? You've only just...Perhaps we should…" her attempt to convince him came out as flat as she had meant to make it sound firm.

"If you don't want to-"

"How can you possibly think that?" she said, her brow furrowing.

"I know that I'm not the same man that I was the last time that we did this, Mary. Even if I can feel things again, my legs are weak, I can scarcely move them- there's no guarantee that I could bring you the same pleasure I did before." he said nervously.

"Don't worry about that, my love. Not this time." it went unspoken that there was hope for many times after. They were both a bit amazed by how quickly they fell together again, though admittedly, Mary did most of the movement, and it was over almost before it began.

"I'm sorry, darling." Matthew said as he struggled to catch his breath. It was embarrassing, really, how quickly he had finished, knowing that she hadn't done the same.

"I'm not!" Mary breathed into his neck. It had happened so quickly, but now, collapsed against him, feeling the damp fabric of his shirt against her flesh, she could feel the warmth that had spread from his body into her own, and the very thought of it had her trembling with joy against him. "Matthew, if we could...do you suppose that means…" she didn't need to finish the thought for him to understand her.

"I don't know darling, I really don't have any clue at all. But I hope, oh God, Mary, I hope that it does." he reached a hand between them, and laid it on her flat stomach. She kissed him tenderly, and rested her forehead against his. Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he moved his hand lower, making her gasp.

"Matthew! What on earth-"

"Shhh." he kissed her soundly. "My legs may be weak, but there's nothing wrong with my hand." she didn't reply after that, she couldn't, everything she felt was too intense.

An: So there it was! A bit of a twist, maybe, from where you thought this chapter would go- but I was surprised myself, really! I'll do my best to have another chapter for you ASAP!