I've posted this already on tumblr months ago and now thought I'd also share it here. :)

Our Family

His eyes sought the comfort of her face as the last verse of the poem rumbled from his chest. Even as she dabbed at teary eyes, he thought her the most beautiful creature. He knew she cried over young William on this day of remembrance and would have liked nothing more than to gather her in his arms to comfort her. The sun dappled through the trees, setting off red and silver sparks in the hair peeking from under her hat. A tilt of her head brought his gaze to rest in hers, what happens next?

Their locked eyes were disturbed by the sound of a trumpet and the exposure of the memorial. His eyes were automatically drawn to the movements. When they wandered back to where Mrs. Hughes was sitting she was staring to the ground. Her eyes were dry, but pain was still written all over her face.

He felt quite miserable himself, but standing where he was he tried to hide it as well as he could. It was hard to pay attention to Lord Grantham, but when Mrs. Patmore was asked to come forward he knew that this was about her poor nephew. Some of the villagers were already leaving while the Earl was still busy trying to pay at least some respect to his cook's late family member. Carson was standing a few feet behind the two, letting his gaze wander over the moving crowd that seemed to have swallowed Mrs. Hughes. As soon as Lord Grantham ended the ceremony and the remaining villagers slowly disposed, he went looking for her. Mrs. Crawley and then the Dowager's lady's maid stopped him unknowingly and forced him into a conversation which he tried to end as fast and politely as he could.

Most of the staff was already heading for the path back to Downton. Fearing that Mrs. Hughes was among them and out of reach he quickened his pace, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of her walking towards the church. He followed, guessing where she wanted to go to and being proved right when he reached the church and the graveyard came into view. She was standing all alone in front of William's grave. Much more flowers than usual covered the soldier's part on the cemetery.

He approached her carefully, hands clasped behind his back. "Are you alright, Mrs. Hughes?", he asked softly, standing as close to her as he dared. His heart ached when he watched how she swallowed hard and tried to look cheerful.

"Do you ever miss him?" Her voice was shaking slightly and she didn't dare to look at him.

"I do", he told her honestly. "He was a good lad."

"He deserved better than to die in a pointless war", she managed to say, before a tear escaped her eyes and she bit her bottom lip to hold the sobs inside her throat.

He didn't know what to say to make it better. Everything that rushed through his mind sounded stupid, meaningless.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Carson", she apologised.

"What for?", he asked quietly, reading the words on the cross over and over again.

She looked up at him. Didn't this situation make him uncomfortable? She studied his expression, blinking away the tears. He seemed wounded, his kind eyes pleading for comfort. "Are you alright, Mr. Carson?", she asked now in return.

"I just", he began, but had to stop. Burning tears threatened to fall. "I just thought about what would be if he was still alive."

Mrs. Hughes had to resist the urge to take his hand. She had had these thoughts herself and it had led to no good. Old wounds had opened and had hurt much worse than they had back then. "Don't, Mr. Carson. Remember him the way he was and the way things were. Don't regret what he could have had. He was happy when he left, I think. Happy to know that Daisy and his father were taken care of. Think about that."

A single tear fell and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. "You are right, Mrs. Hughes." He looked down at her. "Thank you."

She managed a small smile. "Shall we walk back together?", she asked softly. He nodded. When they reached the path back to the Abbey he slowed down and offered her his arm. She gladly accepted, feeling stronger leaning against him. She felt better knowing that she wasn't alone with her still lasting grief. She felt better knowing what was going on inside his stubborn head. She felt better knowing that they had changed, inevitably growing closer.

"We are a family downstairs, aren't we?", he suddenly broke the silence. She furrowed her brow slightly in confusion. Had she dreamed him saying it? "I mean, William wasn't just a footman to us. Gwen was never just a maid. And all the others. They are not just the staff of Downton. They are like children to us, even Thomas."

Mrs. Hughes was now truly smiling. "That would make Mrs. Patmore the witty, bubbly sister and Mr. Bates the kind, but mysterious son-in-law." Carson laughed at that. It was the first time she heard him laugh, truly laugh. She loved the sound of it. That deep, light sound. And it encouraged her to go on. "Mr. Molesley, he would be the weird, unlucky uncle and Miss Baxter the quiet, warm-hearted aunt. As for Miss O'Brien, well, she'd be the bad-tempered aunt." Enjoying his reaction, she was quiet shocked when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, releasing her arm. She turned to face him and was met by a rather thoughtful look.

"That would make us the parents", he pointed out quietly. "And we are like real parents, aren't we?"

"What do you mean?", Mrs. Hughes asked carefully.

"We love each other."

Mrs. Hughes stared at him, amazed by his words, but then nodded gently. "Yes, we do." Again tears fell, but they didn't fall out of grief, but happiness. He raised one hand to stroke her cheek gently. She turned her face into his warm, soft palm and closed her eyes. When she opened them he was gazing at her lovingly. "Still think the Crawley's are the only family you've got?", she teased him, knowing he would remember that conversation.

He shook his head and his hand wandered from her cheek over her shoulder, down her arm until it reached her hand and he interlaced his fingers with hers. "They were never the only family I'd got."