A/N: Had this premise in my head for a little while. Basically, I'll always be heartbroken that Anna wasn't at the memorial in 5.8, but in an attempt not to discount canon as much as I can, this takes place a little while later; in 1928, in fact. Everything that is mentioned is my imagining of where the characters we know and love will find themselves after S6 (prior to any S6 spoilers).

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey (even if I want to think the world post-S6 is up for grabs)

Proud

The wheels of the car rolled along the road, the windows opening up a world beyond. The weaved webs of nearly bare tree branches and sea of still-budded bushes finally passed, and John held a breath as the vast sky became familiar once again. It was strange, how they still lived in Yorkshire, a fairly short train-ride away. Yet the sky was so different over Downton.

He felt a peculiar sensation start to creep upwards and over him, holding him fast in place where he sat. The nerves were strange, too, but they always seemed to appear in one form or another when returning here. There was little doubt in his mind that this set were in part particular to the day that was ahead. He had never liked being put out on parade and presented. It had been worse lining up all those times outside the house than it ever was in the military, the exacting gaze of Mr Carson harsher than any captain, ensuring that not the slightest movement made was without scrutiny. Anna had laughed, a touch fondly in reminiscence but mostly tickled by his comparisons when he had mentioned it to her.

This is quite different, she had soothed and convinced him with so few words, coupled with her soft look and even softer touch upon his shoulder. Already making preparations.

And it was. He could never have refused the wishes of his former superior, not to mention the dignity of the whole village, even if he felt he was hardly worthy to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with men who were younger, more whole in body and quite importantly in character.

Maybe it wasn't the ceremony at all. He was already thinking about its finish, though the sombre feeling would be bound to linger.

The memory of the very first journey he had made there came to him, not knowing what to expect and hardly caring. He couldn't put himself into that same mindset now, being too consumed with thoughts of all of his other returns, his heart tied closer each time, prevented from shattering when he glimpsed the grand scale shrunk in the distance and when he felt his feet touch upon the gravelled ground.

She was nearby, and soon he could be with her again, beginning again. Another start to the life that they had always wanted, more than life itself.

Some time later they had left together, smiles mixed with tears, looking back only once at the place that had brought them to one another and so often kept them apart. No longer.

The cab jumped and juddered, bumping over a pothole in the road. The driver offered his apologies, though John only caught the odd word, his mind otherwise occupied as it had been for the best part of sixteen years.

Anna's face was set a little, eyes slightly widened in the aftershock. She didn't need to look to know that his were fixed upon her, but after hardly a few seconds she smiled into them, much brighter than the November day that waited beyond. He worried about her, as much as he had learnt to let her be, letting her speak first and reach out to him whenever there was a trouble on her mind.

He was filled with relief, praise for a God he was not even half certain existed, and happy, most of all, when her fingers wrapped around his.

"How are you feeling?" he said hurriedly, instinctively, already met with a look from her. "We should have stayed at home, it would have been better for you."

"Watching you run yourself ragged while you won't let me help? Hardly."

Her smile reproved him gently, telling him that there was no need to fret. Her free hand rested on top of her coat, in the very place she was prone to keeping it, in thoughts that were idle or considered. John couldn't help but break into the beginnings of a grin, still thinking of the hour he had been beckoned from the hotel urgently. She had blushed, saying that she had taken a terrible liberty when he was already so busy. News like that took precedence over every other task in the world.

"I've felt quite well this morning. Honestly," she uttered the word with purpose, moving her hand over her stomach to affirm that they were both fine. "It's nearly passed, anyway. Then you won't be able to stop me sneaking into the kitchens." Her eyes shone knowingly, remembering. "You'll wish for this time back, so there'll be something to serve to the guests."

"I won't," he exclaimed seriously.

Again, Anna smiled. She had hardly stopped doing so in the past few months, and he wouldn't complain, graced as he was with so much beauty.

Her head turned as she glanced out of the window on her side, John's eyes on the view afforded by the slope of her neck rather than what was outside.

"Besides," she sighed in a contented breath that he almost had to strain to hear, "I've been looking forward to getting back."

His smile deepened, the long quiet evenings and the sound of her excited chatter filling his head. "You've talked of little else."

"With good reason," she replied, her blue eyes full upon him.

He soared above, as much as he remained grounded, the entirety of the world shrinking to fit upon the compartment shared by them. Heaven held in her gaze, finding a place for him.

He didn't think it especially good, but he knew that she wouldn't have let them miss the occasion. Any excuse she had to look on him with such favour, and not to mention with so many others watching, she would take with both hands, deeply cherished. He always felt awed with her gaze upon him, knowing now, after a time that had been longer than any other, that he was deserving of her adoration, only wishing she knew more of his.

Another time, another world, her hand would have been fixed around his arm, a vice he always welcomed. The presence of their precious daughter sitting between them prevented them from touching each other too much. One of her little hands was pressed against Anna's lap, her other cradling the teddy bear with fur not quite as deep in shade as her dark brown hair, held neatly in bunches on either side of her head. The ends curled out very slightly, even when so often she didn't touch the bread crusts that were offered to her.

"You know where we're going, don't you, Emma?" He talked in a soft voice, lowering his head to be closer to his adored baby girl. At nearing three years old, she was hardly a baby any longer, and she already talked of herself as the big sister before the new baby that was in Mummy's tummy came along.

Blue eyes, the mirror images of those belonging to Anna, greeted him, along with a big smile.

"Downton Abbey!" Emma cheered, lifting her arms into the air. Poor Teddy was nearly sent on an adventure to the roof of the car.

"That's right," John grinned, his heart warmer than ever before. "My clever girl, you're right."

Anna looked at him as he remained so elated, her own gaze slightly watery. Father and daughter made such a perfect pair.

John's big hands supported Emma as she leant forward in her seat, pointing out towards the driver's window.

"Soon?" she murmured, gazing back and forth between her mother and father.

"In a little while, sweet-pea," Anna said, smoothing the edge of Emma's lavender-coloured dress, leaning to place a kiss upon her small cheek. "First we'll go and see Auntie Elsie and Uncle Charles, because they're being ever so kind in letting us stay with them."

She smiled down upon their little girl, her grin growing wider the longer she looked.

"And then can you guess?" Anna's voice became higher in pitch, reflecting her enthusiasm. "You and I will sit, very still, and watch as Pa stands with all his shiny medals. We get to see what a hero he is." She paused for a moment, her breath hitching as she passed her hand over the top of their daughter's head. "Though he's always our hero, isn't he, Emmie?"

Emma nodded vigorously, her thumb held in her mouth. Usually Anna would discourage her from doing that, but she seemed too overcome to care, smiling to herself and keeping Emma close.

John felt a wave of embarrassment descend upon him, but he stayed silent, never having the heart to dampen his wife's spirits. Having them lift so high was all that he wished for.

He hugged Emma and the bear she held close, his palm brushing at Anna's waist as he did so.

"Give a story, Pa?" she chirruped in her little voice, looking up to him, the picture of innocence with wanting in her eyes. "Please?"

He shared a hearty chuckle with Anna, whose eyes were sparkling at the question, bringing his other hand to settle over the little girl who owned half his heart.

With the smile received from his wife confirmation, he passed it down to their daughter in his reply.

"I think there's always time in a hero's day for that."

They settled into their room at the Carsons' guest house, which was the biggest there. It felt a bit unfamiliar, encroaching in such a way upon those who used to watch over them. However the season was quiet – they knew that from their own place, there wasn't much call for tourists to head near the sea in the oncoming winter – and so it had been agreed upon that they could use the room for as long as they saw fit. Anna seemed rather keen, especially when she saw how excited Emma was to see her surrogate grandmother. However they had agreed that they wouldn't stay at Downton for much longer than a couple of days at most, and John was relieved that Anna hadn't changed her mind on the matter. He was keen that she should be back with her home comforts as soon as was possible, even if the break away was welcome.

Changing out of the clothes they had travelled in, John stood and admired Anna's natural beauty, taking her time although she kept an eye upon the clock on the wall. He was entranced as she twirled her hair up with minimal effort and let her dress fit over her. It was an especially lovely one, embroidered with lace and complimenting her colouring with its navy hue. She had taken it out a bit before they had come up; she was beginning to show, although hardly noticeable as yet except to the eyes that knew her better than any others and loved her ardently.

He recalled how she had been a touch self-conscious the first time around; she had always been so slight, and so the changes that were brought alarmed her a bit. Although it had to be said, there was not as much alarm caused as when she had first appeared in the servants' hall with a rounded stomach that was impossible to hide in her lady's maid uniform. For a good while, they believed that Mr Carson would keel over and never recover again from the sight. She huffed a little, and grumbled when she wasn't able to move about as easily, though she never minded sitting for a bit longer at a time or even lying upon their settee. John spent the days and evenings saying honestly how she had never looked lovelier to him, telling her of his love for them both while he rubbed her feet. It was what they had waited for and dreamed of for so long, that to bear witness to the dream happening before his very eyes was the most wonderful thing.

And it would be no different this time around.

She caught him staring at her when she reached for her hat, and he stepped back with a sheepish grin, giving a nod of his head. She raised her eyebrows at him in turn, letting out a chuckle after a moment or two, resting her hands where the dress billowed a little at her hips. It wasn't that snug on her yet, after all.

"Better to be safe," she commented as he let his gaze linger once more, "and comfortable."

He readied himself whilst Anna checked on Emma, having brought the best suit he owned for the occasion. Doing up his buttons and knotting his tie, he tried not to let his mind delve too deep, the details of dressing allowing his hands to stay occupied and not shudder – at least, not quite so much.

Anna beamed in the doorway when she found him again, the room seeming so much brighter with the smile she gave that he would have sworn that it was summer once more. Her eyes stayed upon him and went so far into his soul that he shook a little when her hands touched him, so lightly on his chest.

They shared a smile that spoke of simplicity and a graciousness for it, and the love within was apparent too as, with gentle fingers, she pinned the medals into place on the breast of his jacket.

John felt for a moment like his heart had been pierced, yet he knew that there could be nobody more careful than Anna. The trace of tears were in her eyes; as happy as they were – and she was so happy – he felt a pang that he would never get over. She edged the gleaming prizes with her fingertips, wearing a smile with as much pride, placing her palm over them and touching him while she did so.

She said that she loved him, and it was the highest honour he could be granted.

They both smiled and laughed as she squared her hands at angle with his shoulders, brushing away the invisible traces of fluff. If only she had a brush with her, she would have made an ideal valet. She craned onto the tips of her toes and he held her delicately, closing his eyes against their tender kiss.

Awake from her nap, Emma had a second rush of excitement. She calmed enough to stay still in Anna's arms, adding her own approval by patting her hand over each of the medals in turn. Giving him a little extra luck. Though he didn't feel ready to go until Anna looped her arm through his, making them a unit.

With all he could need, the three – or rather, the four – of them, he walked tall and sure for the whole way ahead.

The rain held off while it seemed the whole village were gathered around the memorial; the former soldiers up front, the rest of the audience spread out, all with heads bowed or showing some other form of gratitude for all the sacrifices that had been made. Prayers were said, speeches given; silence stretched out without the smallest echo. Peace that was so rare settling for a unified minute or two, the passage of ten years suddenly seeming so small.

John focused upon Anna in the seated crowd, Emma on her knee. Her little eyes fluttered, the day being too long and tiring for one so young. Though he was sombre on the outside, inside he couldn't stop smiling. He would never forget the look on Anna's face for as long as he lived, the one that brought him higher than the breaking clouds far above.

The Crawleys led the procession back to the Abbey before very long, a crowd of umbrellas sheltering those that huddled underneath. The walk wasn't too much, though they kept a slower pace than most of the rest, both smiling as young Master George stopped on the path to allow Emma to catch up, not seeming to mind as much as Nanny did about the conditions.

The house was quite the same, although much had changed. For one, he couldn't remember the last time he had been permitted to stand in this room, if indeed he had at all. He barely recognised any faces of the footmen that offered out trays, and he caught the eye of Mr Barrow for a few seconds, underbutler no longer. At least Mr Molesley had taken the place he had once occupied, one change that was favourable.

It was hard to find even a shadow of himself here, and he couldn't find it within himself to be disheartened by the fact.

Lord Grantham, with a little less hair than a few years previous, welcomed him with open arms – quite literally, until he remembered the decorum fitting of an Englishman. They spent what seemed like hours talking, his Lordship keen to know every crumb of life John had to offer. He enquired eagerly after Emma, smiling fondly towards the girl where she played with Daisy, who was also visiting for the day with Mr Mason. There was no doubt that he missed both of his granddaughters, living not on other sides of the world but far enough away from Downton to feel as though that were the case.

John smiled politely and listened closely as he ever did, glad to revisit the old confidence, though he longed to be by Anna's side, to check that she was well. She seemed perfectly so, which put him at ease; most of the day, including at the ceremony, she had sat with Mrs Hughes – Mrs Carson, he corrected himself – catching up for all the time that had passed. Now she was talking with Mrs Patmore and Miss Baxter, smiling widely as she stood between them. Her left hand wandered every now and then to stay just above her stomach, and John grinned to himself when she caught herself, lifting it to her face instead, her wedding ring catching the glimmer from one of the shining chandeliers. She was so serene; the guardian of a secret that they were happy to keep.

For weeks she had made such a fuss of him, and she had been keen to make the day a special one for his sake. Yet it was seeing her so happy that not only made his day, but caused his entire existence to have grown sunnier, filling up every depth with such joy.

Throughout the day, people had seen the medals upon him and met his gaze with looks of thanks set deep in their eyes. A few of those he had known better had come up and held onto his arm briefly or shook his hand. He was one, amongst many others, who were being celebrated for the battles they had endured. He was the one honoured for bravery, courage in the face of adversity and possessing an iron will to win through against all odds. A hero in the eyes of the country he had fought for.

When he looked at her, he found the truest meaning of the word.

He once told her he had never been prouder of her. His pride had only grown, every single day that had passed and she had lived and flourished and raised their daughter with such grace and integrity, her heart so full of love and never deterred.

He looked at her, in this moment, and found her complete within it. She had come through, and she had always had the desire to live in the moment since. Life could not be lived before and after. I can't be the person I was before.

Before, before, before.

After. After rain, after dark, after winter.

She had a survival instinct built within her. She had survived the sorrows of her childhood, starting on somewhere new with hope and strength welled from despair, but never leaving it all behind.

Many shadows were forgotten when the sun set.

After.

Ever after.

She was forever, and he would be ever amazed by her.

Not many more minutes passed before a pair of little legs came bounding towards him, a pair of small hands wrapping themselves around the wood of his cane before he took them into his own. Emma called out her mother's name, causing everyone in the room to laugh kindly. John watched the blush fade from Anna's cheeks as she made her way to them both, though the smile never disappeared from her face.

Emma's head flopped onto her mother's shoulder once she had received the kiss she had longed for. John beheld eyes that were clear and bright as Anna looked towards him, even as they grew a little more tired with each minute.

Time to go? he asked with his own, soft with love for the both of his beautiful girls.

I think so, came the wordless reply.

They left Downton Abbey once again, just as happy – if not happier still – than the last time they'd done so.

"I'm done in," she says wearily, slipping underneath the covers to the left of him. It'll take longer to get to sleep tonight, as exhausted as they both are, but it's not a worry. Emma has taken to the smaller bed like a duckling gliding along water, clutching the stuffed bear underneath her arm, a shifting smile upon her face which was happily imprinted in both of their minds.

He anchors her to his side with a kiss to her cheek, the warmth of her slight but subtly expanding frame keeping him comfortable.

It's near impossible for him to slide his palm downward, touching where their second child would surely be sleeping too now.

"It's been a long day," he murmurs, marvelling at the soft curl of golden strands of hair upon her shoulders, not so far out of reach. "The both of you need your rest."

She gave a sly smile, only slightly perturbed by his fussing.

"I told Mrs Carson," she informs him with an almost illicit ring to her tone. "And Mrs Patmore guessed it. I'm not sure how."

He smiles; looking at her and the way she radiated against the low light, it was hardly the most outlandish suggestion to make.

"They've never missed a thing."

A contented kiss passes between them, Anna's hand resting upon his hipbone. He finds himself sentimental, imagining himself sitting in the old hall, her gentle voice in his ear while he worked on some item of clothing.

She talks now, clad in her nightgown and cushioned by his chest, and he listens faithfully. He hasn't been able to resist keeping his hand out of the silk of her hair after all, and he combs it gently with his fingers.

Lady Mary is the topic, the affection Anna has for her old mistress remaining. The house far emptier now, John imagines her as the queen of the empire she is saving for her son; a role that surely suits her. Anna pauses; even with Mr Talbot as more than just her company, she is lonely. There had been a look of it in her eyes, impossible to ignore. She misses Lady Edith, now that she is no longer there. There's nobody to bicker and pick fights with to pass the many hours away, but it's more than that. A love little regarded and often thought hardly existent, amplified by absence.

"And she actually said that?" he asks, running his fingers down past her sleeve to brush her arm.

She turns with a smirk inched upon her lips, nuzzling against the crook of his neck. "What do you think?"

They both laugh, before she pulls them up with a shake of her head. He kisses her cheek again, soothing the concerns that were no longer hers.

"She trusts you like nobody else."

A muffled sigh falls from her lips. "It's like my mother used to say; you don't know the things you miss until they're far from you."

He holds his arms around her tighter, cupping the almost imperceptible bump bulging at her middle with his palm. They never had a problem knowing that. The sadness of certain memories fall away fast when she covers her hand over his own, the press of her against him blessed for what it was now, as well as proving a reminder of all the many joyful moments that had been since.

Her fingers entwine with his, and his heart jolts as though it was the first time they had touched.

"Do you miss it here?"

He remembers asking her the same question before, not too many times. It had been a big thing for them to make the decision to leave, so much of their lives spent there. Having their own business would bring different struggles, even if they both had the dedication and the desire to work, along with the most important reason for making their lives truly their own.

It could have all been so different, or rather, remained the same. They could have stayed in service. They might not have had children. They knew that they would be happy as long as they had one another, but the happiness that Emma had brought to them had been beyond imagination or value. She had always been written in the stars, with the light she gave, even when the skies had been too cloudy to study their constellations properly.

She smiles as he strokes back her hair from her forehead, a smile that he remembered vividly from the days when he still counted each one carefully.

"It won't ever disappear," she replies with certainty. "We've taken all we need to with us, though it's lovely to be reminded every now and again."

They had held onto the good and packed it along with them; that was true.

Her hand slides down upon his chest, to later be replaced by her head, lying pillowed upon where his heart beat steadily.

"And anyway," her eyes lock with his, and he is both comforted and surprised by the intensity he finds there, "we have to keep moving, don't we?"

She is full of love and light, the quicksilver that enchanted him kept in store and flashing out with the simplest of smiles. Her daughter is a sprite made from the same substance, and though part of him doesn't want to guess just yet, he has a strong feeling that in a matter of months he will be well and truly outnumbered.

"Not too soon, I hope," he smirks in reply.

Maybe there is another place for them somewhere, waiting patiently and perfectly, but right now he can't think of anything much more perfect than being here, falling slowly into sleep and even further in love.

Before they get there, she asks for a kiss – whispering it in the quiet of the room, low against his ear, making his body spark. They're reminded of being mindful once again, longing for more. He obliges happily, savouring her lips upon his, as well as her hands as they find their way over him like a traveller treading a familiar road.

He hears her only too well when she whispers, half in slumber.

"My hero."

She doesn't need to be told how she is the same for him – greater, in all regards – but when they are home again, with Emma and their unborn child nestled between them, he will let the truth be known anyway.

And once again, she will smile.

A/N: Hopefully, this reads okay - I wanted to keep things relatively simple.