The stairs up to the attics were no less creaky the following morning. Richard rubbed his eyes with one hand, the other holding a glass of what Thomas jokingly called 'Jimmy's miracle hangover cure'– a reminder of how Thomas had helped Chris when he'd broken into Downton drunk last year. Thomas, who had decided to find the humour in the situation as they dressed back at home earlier, had remarked on how many drunks he's had to deal with at Downton over the years, especially recently.

They had left earlier than Thomas normally did, so they could arrive at Downton and check on Larry before the house woke up. Richard hadn't expected Larry to be awake, but hoped the rest had helped him to sober up a little at least. They wanted to know the details of what Larry thought he had done that was so unforgivable and warranted running away to Downton in the night. It was an overly dramatic reaction, but overdramatic was what Larry did best.

Thomas opened the door, turning the handle inch by inch. The rooms were old, and not as well maintained as the upstairs rooms– Thomas tried to avoid any unnecessary noises. They stepped into the room, closing the door behind them. "Larry?" Thomas called out whilst keeping his voice down.

The room was dark, and the figure on the bed, unmoving. "He's probably still asleep."

"No, I can hear you." Larry answered, his voice muffled as though he spoke into the pillow.

"Got you a drink, a friend of mine swears by it," Thomas said, putting the glass down on the table. "It will help."

Larry rolled over and sat up, pushing himself up on his hands. "God, I've never had one this bad before," he groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Leave the light off and don't open those curtains."

"It's still dark Larry." Richard sat on the end of the bed.

"What time is it?"

"Five in the morning," Thomas said.

"Ah. Keep them closed anyway. I suppose you're here for answers?"

"Yes, and to see how you are," Richard responded.

Larry slouched back against the headboard. "I am as you see me: a hungover idiot in someone else's bed."

'Have a drink Larry, it tastes good, helped Chris out once before," Thomas encouraged, sitting down on the bed next to Richard.

"You know, it's kind of ironic. Being in someone else's bed is why I am here, well it was my bed but–' Larry took a few sips of the lime flavoured drink, sighed with pleasure and placed it back half empty. "If I am to tell my sorry tale then I should be able to see your faces, I won't hide in the dark. You can put the lamp on, but put it over there." Larry pointed beyond Richard to the corner of the room. "And on the floor. I don't like it in my face."

Richard moved the lamp from the other table, thinking to himself of how easily Larry, a man who's been used to being waited on hand and foot for years, gave the order. With the light casting the room in a dim glow, he and Thomas could see the shadows under Larry's eyes that were usually so full of energy.

"It's difficult to know how to begin."

"From the beginning."

"By the end you two will judge me, I am sure of that. It's fine though, only what I deserve," he said solemnly. "It started with a business deal, turned purchase of something that I'd had my heart set on owning for years— an aeroplane."

"You can afford one of those?" Thomas asked in disbelief.

"I could but even then it stretched my budget Thomas. Seb was fine with it, he only asked that I don't go anywhere near flying it until I knew what I was doing. Trouble is I struggled to find someone willing to sell, and it was even harder to get someone willing to negotiate. I did however, after weeks— no a couple of months of inquiring, find a man who said he was willing to be flexible. Even then I could tell he was the type not give easily so I did what I always did when trying to win someone over—"

"You flirted outrageously?" Thomas guessed dryly.

"Well that sometimes works but no, I threw a huge party. I am a fabulous host." Larry deliberately raised his eyebrows in a look that radiated a moment of confidence.

Richard smirked in reaction. It was strange how he had missed Larry's usual self, he never thought about it much before. But Larry was a constant source of positivity: he made people feel good by just being around him. "That you are Larry."

"Anyway this man came and as we talked, drank, ate and socialised, I became aware of an instinctive feeling that he was one of us if you know what I mean?"

Thomas nodded and looked at Richard for a split second as though he could tell where this was going. "Yeah we know."

"The evening ended and that was that, he left but with the invitation to another such gathering the following week— I play the long game. It is best not to rush these things in my experience if one is to get what they want. Anyway, he returned for another quieter, but still thriving party that I hosted at my estate in the country during the afternoon and evening. This time we did talk business. I started negotiating a price, but he kept dropping hints that he wanted something in return. I am no fool, I knew that something he wanted was me. So I let him have a taste— No not like that Thomas." Larry corrected, seeing the look on Thomas's face that had caused him to flush a shade of pink in his face. "I flirted, testing the waters at first to make sure I wasn't wrong and hadn't misread his intentions for something else. I hadn't misjudged him, and in time he made that plain. I stepped up my game, pulled him to the side of the room, the room where Seb was watching the whole time."

Richard rubbed his chin with his hand. "And he didn't like what you were playing at?"

"Actually he was fine with it. It's one of the reasons I love him: we understand each other and we are both the same in that way. We flirt for fun with other men, sometimes we bring another home with us, but only as a three so there's no secrets. We flirt to get what we want, and to get out of trouble in some cases. But that is where the line is drawn: the line that I crossed."

"The aeroplane man wanted more. He asked me outside, so I followed. We talked alone in a corridor leading to the bedrooms on the west wing. He asked me if we were on the same page? I said we were. He told me he'd give me a deal at seventy percent of the price he'd offered everyone else. I wanted better, the thought of a plane landing on the parkland outside my house drove me forward. I told him I needed sixty percent off. He said I could have it...if he could see the bedrooms. He said he wanted a tour of the place, to see the most intimate parts no one else got to see. Code for what you two can easily guess meant something else, something I was not willing to give. But I decided to keep that to myself, to play him a bit longer, see if I could push him for a better deal without giving anything in return." Larry's posture slumped, he averted his gaze, seeming to prefer to focus on the sheet over his legs. "The rest is just details, and I know you can guess what I did, but I'll spell it out anyway then you can decide what you do." Larry slowly raised his head to look at them. "Then you can both walk out on me if you prefer. I will understand." His fingers picked the edge of the sheet over and over. "He ended up in my bed. Seb, who had seen us leave, walked in as I straddled him."

"Oh Larry," Thomas groaned into his hands.

"Exactly what I thought. I should say, in my defence, that I never actually slept with this man, we were clothed when he burst in with an expression I can't find the words to describe, but will forever be engraved into my memory unless I can somehow make this right. I immediately told him the deal was off, and made him leave but that wasn't good enough for Seb. We'd ever actually talked about it, but we'd agreed in a way we both knew that we would forsake all others. Seb asked me what I was intending, whether I would have slept with that man if he hadn't walked in. I couldn't say, I couldn't say for sure that I wouldn't have done. Seb left then, told me not to come looking for him until I had got my priorities straight." Larry paused as he looked around the room in thought, staring at the ceiling, focusing on the mundane details of a servants room. "That is why I am here. As I said last night, I don't want any more of the luxuries I have gotten too comfortable with, too greedy with wanting more. I never wanted to fall into that trap, I was happy before. I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. I thought of running away to London, or the little cottage in Cornwall, but they both belong to me and remind me of him. I came here to escape me, and in the hope that you two will not hate me as much as I hate myself." Larry shrugged and drank the rest of the glass. "So there you have it, sorry tale complete. You both know where the door is, feel free to push me out of it."

Richard exchanged a look with Thomas, neither of them saying anything at first. Richard was sure Thomas would agree with him that their friend had been incredibly foolish. It was clear to see how much Larry hated himself for what he did or, more likely, what he had been about to do. If he deserved any punishment then Richard reckoned the guilt he was riddled with was enough. Larry always came across as perfect, as though it wasn't possible for him to falter and make a mistake, but no one was one hundred percent perfect.

"Can you two say something? Do something? Please?" Larry beggedthem, with a pitiful expression.

"I'm not about to push you out of the door Larry," Thomas spoke up. "Richard won't either. I can't forgive you, only Sebastian can do that, but I'm not about to abandon you. I have messed up pretty much every single relationship I have had–" Thomas met Richard's eye and revealed a shy smile. "Until the most recent one of course."

"I'm not sure how, but as I said before, we'll find a way to fix this Larry," Richard reassured. "I'm sure Sebastian is hurting as much as you are."

"I gathered that."

Richard winced at his carelessness. "No, sorry that came out wrong, I mean he'll be missing you, if you think he's not ever going to want you back then I think you're wrong. I know how much he loves you, I've seen it, but he might need time."

"As do I. I need to sort out myself, what I really want, like Seb said, but I need time. I know I can't expect this of you, but would you allow me another couple of days to lay low here? Then I'll find somewhere else to stay."

"You'll have to stay up here, only leave for the bathroom and such when the corridors are empty," Thomas warned. "I'll do my best to make sure no one knows you are here."

"Thank you Thomas." Larry gave him a tentative smile, the first since he'd begun to explain. "I do need to go and sort one thing out though. My car is out there on the road, next to the road...um in a ditch, well more of a verge but I did miss the tree, obviously or I'd not be here."

Richard tensed, "You drove here last night in that condition? Larry, what on earth were you thinking?" He paused as his voice threatened to grow louder, and took a deep breath before continuing. "You could have killed yourself, or someone else and then where would you be?"

"Richard, Richard." Larry gestured with his hands in a pleading manner. "I didn't come all the way from home like that, of course not. I'm a good driver but not that good. I drove sober...most of the way."

"Most of the way?"

"Drank a bit at a little pub somewhere, then the bottle you found on me, and I had a silver flask, not sure where that went. It was a few miles, that's it. Promise."

Thomas huffed, "Well you got lucky then."

"I need to fetch the car. See if she's okay, she's one of Seb's favourites."

"Which one is it?" Richard asked, catching Thomas rolling his eyes to himself.

"The Duesenberg Model J, hence why I can't delay." Larry pushed the sheet aside and leapt out of bed. Richard followed suit, catching Larry just in time as he swayed and stumbled forwards.

"You're not in the condition to do anything yet Larry." Richard guided Larry to sit back down. He squeezed his arm. "Can't have you crash her now can I?" Richard tried to ignore the thought of one of the world's most luxurious cars being reduced to a crumpled heap, the very thought pained him. Larry had brought that car to Downton before, showed it to him when he was recovering from being shot. Larry had known just the right way to cheer him up.

"Suppose not. I can't leave her there though, what if someone steals her?"

"We'll go and fetch it now Larry."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "We will?"

"Best do that before too many people see it. We can't bring it here though."

"The old barn might be alright," Thomas suggested.

"Yes, then when you're fully sober again Larry you can check her over."

"I'm going to leave the car alone for a while," Larry said. "It's another part of my fortune, which is something I need distance from at present. I'm trying to think of a plan for what I will do to help myself. When I forgive myself, then I'll take the car and find Seb. I can't expect him to forgive me if I can't forgive myself. I'm not sure what to do yet, but I'll think of something, I'm not leaving Downton until I'm satisfied." Larry nodded once with firm determination. "That I am sure of."

...

It didn't take them long to find the car, down a narrow road not far from Downton Abbey's main driveway. The sky was still dark, but beginning to turn a royal blue over in the east. Richard flashed his torch over the car. It seemed to have escaped any major damage. He couldn't be sure until daylight, but any damage seemed to be superficial: there were a few minor dents at the front and scratches where Larry must have scraped a hedge at some point. He pulled open the door and put the key Larry had given them into the ignition barrel and pressed the ignition switch. He felt around in the footwell for the starting handle. "Thomas could you?"

Thomas shook his head. "I'll be of more use in there." He pointed to where Richard was sitting. "I've not had much experience with starting cars. You'd better do it, I heard there's a tactic to getting it right and not breaking your wrist in the process?"

Richard smirked, getting out of the car and swapping places with Thomas who stood at the front of the car, next to the tree Larry had almost hit. "There is a method, yes, or maybe you just like the chance to watch a display of masculine strength?"

Thomas shrugged his shoulders with faked innocence. "Couldn't possibly say."

"Press the ignition switch again. It cuts out after a while if you don't do the crank start in time. A security feature apparently."

"Sounds like a pain to me. Wouldn't it be nice if one could press a single switch and the car just starts," Thomas mused.

"Wouldn't it?" Richard found a grip and put all his strength into turning the handle in one swift rotation. His reward: a judder from the engine, then nothing.

"I'm not going to be the one to tell Larry he broke the car," Thomas called out from the driver's seat.

"It's probably just cold. Been sitting here all night. We'll try again." The engine shuddered again, for longer and as Richard resigned himself to accept another failed attempt, the car burst into life. "Ah! Wonderful!" He jumped up and clapped his hand onto the front runner board triumphantly. "Got to drive her out. Move over."

"I thought you'd like to drive." Thomas shook his head to himself. "You and your cars, no wonder Larry and you were...a thing."

"Got to take the opportunity Mr Barrow," Richard said as he put the car into reverse. He tried the gentle approach first, then applied a little more power. He inched the car backwards up the slope. At first it seemed as though they would be free, but Richard felt the rear wheels begin to struggle for grip. It had been the rain– if the ground had been dry, it would have been easy. The wheels could only find slippery mud. Splatters flew up hitting the car, that would need a decent clean, and them. Richard craned his neck behind him. In the morning twilight he could see they were close to the road. He tried again, but they got nowhere.

"Richard, Richard!" Thomas shouted over the engine. "This is pointless. We need help to get this out."

Richard took his foot off the pedal and put the car in gear. Off to one side, further down the road a figure, grey in the morning light, was walking towards them.

"This is going to be hard to explain," Thomas complained.

A stone clattered off to one side of the road as the person came nearer. "Tommy? Tommy is that you?"

Richard relaxed. Only one person on the planet could get away with calling Thomas that name. "David?"

David Mortimer, Thomas's childhood friend and former sweetheart, emerged from the gloom. He stopped near the car, hands on hips surveying the car and them, whilst letting out an impressed whistle. "Nice car. That's Larry's ain't it? Did he let you borrow it?" His expression changed to a concerned frown. "Did you crash it?"

"It's complicated, but no we're fetching it back for him. Larry is at Downton," Thomas briefly explained. "We've just come from there, he's in my old bedroom."

David raised a teasing eyebrow. "My goodness! You both and Larry, all night in the servants quarters. Hmm, well I don't judge."

"Not like that David. Larry crashed this car, we found him in the back yard almost passed out with drink," Thomas said.

"Is he alright?" David asked.

"From crashing this, yes. But otherwise? It's hard to tell really. It's a long story and we'll fill you in at some point, but the gist of it is that Larry did something he bitterly regrets which caused Sebastian to leave him, hopefully just temporarily," Richard added. "He's staying in Downton for, well not sure how long, but he needs time to sort himself out. He's less drunk now but still very hungover and in no fit state to drive a car. We're hoping to get this to the old barn Matthew has and keep it there until he needs it back, but as you can see..."

"Hmm, yes." David rubbed his chin. "If you give me a quarter of an hour or so I could pull it out with the tractor."

Richard and Thomas got out of the car, Richard turning the engine off. "I was hoping you'd say that. You're a lifesaver David."

"Well, I'm not just a pretty face."

Thomas pulled out his pocket watch and squinted at its face. "Keep this to yourself for now though David okay? Chris will probably know by the end of the day, but we need to keep this quiet. Larry doesn't want too many to know he's here."

"Will do. Now, I won't be long," David said as he turned back down the track.

"You need to get back?" Richard asked Thomas when they were alone once more. Thomas had looked at the time twice since David had shown up.

"I do, sorry. Will you be alright here?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll see you later. Call the shop if you need anything with regards to Larry." Richard kissed him gently on the cheek. "Bye."

…

Despite the unusual start to Thomas's day, the rest of the morning passed as smoothly as it would on any other normal day. He completed his usual duties after breakfast, made some telephone calls on Lord Grantham's behalf concerning the ordering of some new items for his winter wardrobe that Mr Bates had passed onto him, and had discretely removed his and Richard's cat Wilde, from the library. Thomas's days of sneaking around were mostly behind him, but came in handy–he just about made it to the servant's stairs with the cat under his arm before anyone saw them. Ever since Wilde had spent a week last November being looked after by Phyllis and Stephen downstairs, the cat had decided he liked his second home to be a stately home.

Thomas descended the stairs two at a time, hoping to catch a quick moment to himself accompanied only by a cup of tea and a few biscuits. He'd just checked on Larry, who had been sleeping like a baby ever since the early morning, even though it was nearing midday.

"Mr Barrow, can I have a word?" Mrs Hughes asked, appearing at the foot of the stairs.

Thomas shot a longing look in the direction of the kitchen and his tea. Too good to be true. "What can I do for you Mrs Hughes?" he answered with a tight smile.

"I need a word in private, Mr Barrow. It's a delicate matter."

Thomas hated it when people said that. Either it was something that made them feel uncomfortable, or it was something that was going to make him feel so. "My office then?" He closed the door behind them and sat down, motioning for the housekeeper to do the same. "Who's in trouble this time?"

"I hope no one Mr Barrow, I'll cut straight to it; this concerns you."

"Does it?" he asked, trying to sound as indifferent and unbothered as possible.

"I should say first Mr Barrow that you know that I don't judge you for your preferences—"

"Well that's good to hear, he said, as he tried to suppress an eye roll. Of course it had to be something to do with that.

Mrs Hughes cleared her throat. "But I must speak up when I think you are doing something unwise."

"Who's in charge here Mrs Hughes?" Thomas asked, his voice clipped with irritation. "Remind me."

"You may be the butler, but I have looked out for you since you first came here as a boy Mr Barrow. I have your best interests at heart, if you would let me continue?"

"Go on."

"Charlotte came to me earlier. I'd told her that after she'd finished turning down the beds upstairs, she were to see to the rooms still occupied in the attics, and for those that weren't, to open a few windows, air them out a bit. Today is dry outside and it wouldn't do for them to get musty."

Thomas noted a literal sickening feeling in his stomach. He could guess where this was going.

"She was in your old room and... she came straight down to me and told me there was a man sleeping in your bed."

Thomas sighed into his hands. "I see."

"Like I said I don't judge you and your private affairs are no concern of mine—"

"They are not, no."

"She told me at first she thought that a homeless man had broken into the house. a drunk one at that, since she told me that the room had an odour of alcohol about it, though I thought that was a little far fetched. But she then said she changed her mind upon seeing his clothes, some of which were on the floor. They were the clothes of a gentleman." Mrs Hughes looked down at her clasped hands for a moment. "It is your affair, but it is not right to be going behind Mr Ellis's back, seeing someone else."

Thomas gawped ridiculously at her. "You think I've been cheating on Richard with a drunken well-to-do man in my old room?"

"Have I made the wrong conclusion?"

Thomas laughed, feeling strangely relaxed considering. "You have. Firstly, nothing in this world would tempt me to cheat on Richard." Thomas noticed a glimmer of a smile in her face at that remark. He blushed as he realised how romantic that had sounded. "Secondly, that man is just a friend, to Richard and I. He's been here before as a guest, he knows Mr Talbot, but he isn't here to see them this time and doesn't want to. He came to see us as he needs our help with a personal matter. He's...I can't explain fully, it's not my tale to tell sorry, but he's broken-hearted and hasn't handled it well. He needs a few days to recover himself, and then he'll be gone from this house and no one would be any the wiser."

"Downton isn't a hotel Mr Barrow."

"Tell that to some of the people we wait hand and foot on," he retorted.

"Yes maybe, but that is not the point."

"He will be gone in a few days. He'll find somewhere else in Downton to stay— he can't go home yet. He says he needs time to sort things out with himself." Thomas leaned forward, "He needs a friend Mrs Hughes, I know that feeling."

"Very well Mr Barrow. I will not say anything about what Charlotte told me, and I'll speak to her and tell her to do the same. I should know the gentleman's name though."

"Do you have to?"

"It would be handy in case someone else sees him. I can hardly lie if I don't know whom I am lying for now can I?"

"Larry, that is, Lord Larry Ferroland."

"Oh yes I remember him, quite the charmer and a bit of a show off."

Thomas shrugged, "I suppose that's fair." He stood as Mrs Hughes got up to leave, and opened the door for her. "Thank you. He'll appreciate it."

"I hope he will."

Once Thomas had closed the door and was alone again he sunk down into his chair and sat silent for a minute. He knew then that it had been unrealistic of Richard and him to hope no one would find Larry. Downton Abbey was a big house and still had enough people scurrying around it to notice things. Once he had let the notion that all was well for now sink in, he pushed the matter aside in his mind. It would be a story to tell Richard later, one he'd likely find amusing. They could have a good laugh about it later before bed.

He decided to look in on Larry after luncheon– Larry would be starving anyway– for now he settled to abandon his tea and biscuit and continue with his work for another couple of hours. He lazily flicked through a pile of envelopes he'd set aside to be dealt with at a later time.

His body tensed. The grip on the small envelope addressed to him grew tight, crinkling the edges of the paper. He glared at his name, written in neat handwriting he recognised.

Not again. Why can't they take a hint and leave him alone?

He slammed the envelope down onto the desk. The chair grated on the floor as he stood. The letters would have to wait. He couldn't stay in the same room as that one for a moment longer.

Note: This chapter is shorter than I intended. There was another scene planned but I grew tight for time and the word count was long enough anyway. I've not cut it out, just put it in its own chapter, which will follow this one.

I know Larry has been an idiot, but I hope you won't think to badly of him.