The final installment of this short story. Time passes, and Sybil grows anxious. Drama ensues. Enjoy! - darthsydious

April, 1917

Tapping a cigarette against the case, Thomas reached for his matches as he pushed open the door to the servant's courtyard, sighing a little, ready for fifteen minutes of peace before the next rush of patients from the hospital came. He wasn't expecting anyone to be here, so he was rather surprised to see one of the family members leaning against the doorframe.

"Ladyship." Thomas was startled, "I beg pardon…I didn't know anyone was out here."

"It's alright, I probably shouldn't be out here anyway." She had pulled off her nurse's veil, it hung tucked into the back of her apron, which was already stained from work. He pocketed his cigarettes and bowed, beginning to leave "Thomas?"

"Yes Lady Sybil?"

"How is everyone downstairs? Do they believe that William and Matthew will come back?" Thomas thought for a moment, it was a question he hadn't expected at all. He had hoped she would ask for tea, and he'd be able to tell her he'd speak to one of the maids for her, since he didn't work for the family anymore. But then Lady Sybil was different from the others. He might've felt guilty for telling her off.

"I don't know." He said. "I can't speak for the staff. I expect that the army will let us know if anything happens."

"You were on the front Thomas, you know what it's like." Sybil took a step forward, "Do you think there's any hope?" she asked. Thomas found himself caught in a difficult position. He shifted, wondering if he ought to tell her the truth or simply lie and tell her that her fiancé would be fine. "I only ask," she took another step forward "Because you're different from the other servants." Now he felt even more uncomfortable, and worried. "I'm sorry, that sounds rude, I don't mean to be." She frowned, folding her hands. "I mean you seem to be very honest, you wouldn't lie…not if it really mattered." Thomas felt himself straighten a little, bowing his head. He'd never felt guilty before, and found himself a little angry that it was a lady who'd made him feel such.

"I don't think there's much chance, no." He said finally. "That's my opinion." He said. She nodded slowly, "It doesn't mean it's right." Forcing a smile, she looked up at him.

"No of course not." Pulling her hands apart she tried to keep her frame relaxed. "We must all keep up hope for both of them. For all of them." He fiddled with his pocket, his glove catching. "How is your hand?" she asked, "Any trouble with it?" he looked down at it, the disfigurement permanent.

"Not much, milady."

"How did it happen?" he was quiet, eyes shifting.

"Sniper."

"Yes, they told me." Something in her eyes disturbed him, as if she were studying him. Thomas didn't like it, and he thought of several lies to tell her, that he was carrying a man back to the trench, or he'd got it on patrol. But the only image that flashed through his head was looking up at the lighter in his hand, and the noise of the gun. The feel of the bullet hitting its mark. "They tell me some men have their hands hurt on purpose, to get away from the fighting." Thomas felt sick all of a sudden, he couldn't look anywhere near her. He tried to force himself to, to appear casual.

"Yes I suppose some do." He croaked.

"A lot of people call them cowards…they turn them into the army, for sentence."

"Do you agree with them, my lady?" he asked, finally looking up at her. She was still looking at him, tears in her eyes.

"I do." She said. Thomas wanted to run, to get as far away from Lady Sybil and her accusing eyes. But he couldn't. "But I don't think turning them in is the right thing to do either." He stared. "I think they shouldn't be given the mercy of a simple shooting." For a moment he nearly laughed.

"Would you prefer torture, my lady?"

"No." she looked insulted, shaking her head. "I'd rather they live with their guilt. It's punishment enough." She made to leave again, but this time Thomas caught her elbow, she turned with a start and he let go immediately. Bowing his head and taking a step back,

"Lady Sybil," he murmured, "I- I hope you wouldn't think that I would ever do-"

"I know how you are." She said softly, and he looked up at her, "Perhaps a sniper did get you on patrol. Or perhaps you weren't on patrol when it happened. Perhaps you were just frightened." He felt his hands shaking, but he couldn't look away from her "Perhaps you just needed a way out, and- and fear sometimes makes a way for us, one that will have consequences later on." He felt his chin wobble, he clenched his lips together. He felt his eyes twitch, something wet rolled down his cheek. "I'm not trying to threaten you," her tone was warm, barely above a whisper. "I just wanted you to know that I could understand…if you did such a thing…but it would be very difficult for me to forgive you." He felt himself nod shakily. When she had gone inside, the door shut behind her, Thomas began to walk. He clenched his hands as he nearly jogged out to the outer courtyard, leaning against the stables before giving way to bitter tears.

~O~

Upstairs

Giving her glove one last tug, Edith knocked on Sybil's door,

"Sybil, I'm going down, are you ready?"

"Yes…I'll be down in a moment." Edith paused, she looked back at the sound of Mary's door opening and closing.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know, she sounded upset." Her older sister had no reservations and stepped forward

"Are you alright dear?"

"Yes! I said I would be down in a moment." Something smashing startled them both, and Mary pushed the door open, Edith close behind. Sybil was on her hands and knees, trying to soak up a broken bottle of perfume. A box of powder had fallen over, clouding the vanity.

"Good heavens- shut the door, before Mama sees." And Edith obeyed before moving to her sister's side.

"Sybil-" Mary began, but before she could even speak again her sister had given way to tears, still attempting to save the rug. "Darling you're making a bigger mess-"

"I don't care- my god what is a rug anyway to what's happening?" she flung the soaked blouse across the room, sitting back on her heels. She wiped her eyes, suddenly looking at the mess as if for the first time. "Oh dear God, Mama will have my head." She began to cry again, "What a mess- what's the matter with me?"

"It will be alright." Edith said quickly, she tugged on the pull, ringing for Anna. "We can clean it up, Mama won't even have to know."

"Sybil, leave it; tell me what's the matter." Mary said, taking her sister's shoulders. Edith was beginning to sweep the powder off the vanity, watching Sybil from the corner of her eye.

"I'm so angry, so angry at myself Mary…"

"Whatever for?"

"I thought…I thought I could believe that he was coming…I really did. I want to keep hoping but I can't." Mary didn't know what to say at first. "Every day he doesn't come home I get so angry, so angry at this war and him for going and- and I don't know what to do but I know I hate feeling like this!"

"Oh my darling…you mustn't feel that way…you're only human after all."

"I don't want to feel as if it's alright!" Sybil cried "It's not…what would he think? What would he think if he knew? Mary you loved him-"

"Darling that was years ago- things were different."

"If you thought for a moment he would come back to you- wouldn't you want to keep believing he would?" Mary sat back down, she glanced at Edith, then back at Sybil.

"I don't hope in impossibilities." Mary said, quite sure of herself. Her voice was steady, and her eyes were warm. "There isn't hope of Matthew coming back, not for me anyway." She wiped the streak of powder from Sybil's cheek. "But I know he would move heaven and earth to come back to you. It may just take time." Slowly, she nodded, wiping her eyes. There was a small knock on the door before Anna poked her head in.

"Anna, come in, shut the door quickly." Edith said "There was an accident, we wonder if you could clean it up." Anna was looking at Sybil, picking herself up amid talcum powder, broken glass and a flowery-smelling carpet.

"Yes of course milady."

"Let me help you-" Sybil murmured, hands shaking as she began to pick up the glass pieces,

"I think someone had better help you." Mary said, "Edith, fetch her a different dress, quickly, we can have her ready in a moment." She wiped Sybil's face, "Dry your eyes, you don't want anybody to know you've been crying for a silly boy." Mary said, and Sybil smiled a little at her teasing. Edith laid out a clean frock, and Sybil turned, seeing it was her turquoise Indian trousers, the one that had shocked her father, and made Matthew's eyes twinkle when he saw her in it for the first time. Mary was about to reprimand Edith but Sybil was smiling.

"His favourite." She murmured, before turning her back to Mary "Here help me get changed. If we hurry we'll just make it." The dinner gong rang just as they were finishing, Sybil squeezed their hands, thanking them before they filed out of the room.

"I don't think Mama needs to know about Sybil tonight." Mary said to Anna. The maid nodded.

"Yes your ladyship." She folded the soiled laundry over her arm, starting back downstairs.

~O~

Downstairs

Daisy didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular as she began to set the table. Mr. Bates was still upstairs, cleaning up after dressing Lord Grantham, Anna wasn't anywhere to be found. Miss O'Brian came down the stairs, sighing heavily.

"…as if I want to make one more trip upstairs!" she grumbled

"It was just a question!" Ethel's distant voice further up the stairs called before the door slammed. Miss O'Brian had stopped paying attention to the maid by the time she'd reached the table and sat down. Now she noticed Daisy standing with the silverware tray, but instead of laying them out she just held it.

"What's with you?" she asked, opening up her sewing kit.

"Nothing." She said quickly, and began laying out the forks and knives. "It's just…it's been so long-" O'Brian rolled her eyes.

"We'll get news when we get news. Lordship told us that."

"Yes but it's just that it's been so long, I'm starting to think we'll never hear anything. Don't you worry that something's happened to them?"

"Course I do." O'Brian said, looking up from waxing the thread in her hands. "But worrying never did the day's work."

"Amen." Thomas said, coming in the back door. He looked tired and red-eyed.

"I was thinking…maybe of lighting a candle for William." Daisy said.

"A what?"

"A candle. I'm not givin' up on them it's just that I thought it would be nice." Anna and Bates were coming down the stairs as she finished, followed by Ethel and Mr. Carson.

"Oh go on then." He said with a shrug. "I'll go with you Daisy. I reckon I'll light a candle for Mr. Crawley…and your sweetheart." Now the whole of the kitchen stopped. Anna and Bates both looked at each other, then at Thomas.

"Would you really Thomas?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" he snapped, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Goin' for a smoke."

"You just went for one." Daisy said

"I'm goin' for another, what's it to you?"

"There's no need to snap." Bates said,

"I don't remember you bein' in charge." Thomas grumbled. "I'll speak as I like." And he stalked off, slamming the door behind him.

"What's with him?" Ethel asked,

"Mind your own business." O'Brian said.

~O~

Later That Night

Once the staff had their dinner and the dishes were cleaned, Daisy went to find Thomas. He was out in the courtyard still, two or three cigarettes at his feet.

"You missed dinner." She said, "I saved you back some." He didn't say anything, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Did you mean what you said, taking me to the church, to light a candle with me?"

"Suppose I did." He said, and he looked over at her.

"Why?" she asked. "I mean…you never liked William before."

"I never said that changed." He said with a shrug.

"I don't understand." She said with a frown.

"Look do you want someone to go with you or not?" he asked.

"I do, but I want to know why you're coming?"

"Just because I don't like him doesn't mean I want him dead." He looked at her, then down at his shoes for a moment. He thought about what Lady Sybil had told him earlier, and about a long-ago conversation he and William had. He could still hear William's words

"You'll probably be closer to home than I will."

"Who's fault is that?"

"I never said it was anyone's, I just wanted to ask you…if anything happens to me…can't you at least try and look after Daisy?"

"Won't she marry you before you go?"

"I mean as a brother." He said. Thomas shook his head, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette. "Just…if anything happens…Daisy means the world to me."
"Why me? Why not Mr. Bates, or Mr. Carson?"

"I don't know." William said, "I guess…I figured it'd be pretty sorry if you didn't have anyone either." They were both quiet for a minute.

"Well who says I'll come back?" Thomas said, and William looked over at him, smirking.
"Then I guess neither of us will have to worry." He sobered, "But will you? Look after her I mean? I just-"

"Let it be will you?" Thomas snapped, "War'll be over soon anyway." Neither of them believed that, but it seemed to be the thing everyone was saying when they got tired of worrying, even if it probably wasn't true. "Just keep your head down and get back here. Then you can take care of her yourself."

He was brought back to the present by the wafting smoke from his cigarette. His gaze drifted over to his gloved hand, and he kept turning over in his head what William had asked him.

"Daisy…" he said. She'd started to head back inside, but she turned now.

"What?" Thomas opened his mouth, about to tell her what William had confided in him. But was it what Daisy wanted? Maybe she wouldn't even want his help. In any case if William was dead, which he probably was, Thomas supposed he could show William some respect and do what he asked. "Was there any gravy left?" Daisy looked at him for a moment, her wide eyes almost smiling at him.

"Yes there was a little bit. I'll heat it up for you." And she hurried back inside. In a moment, Thomas stepped on his cigarette before starting after her.

~O~

The Next Day

Though the day had started out gray and raining, the sun did make an appearance in the morning and by tea, it seemed to be out to stay.

"Seems we'll have good weather for tonight." Mary said, helping Sybil change the bed sheets in one of the common rooms. "How are you?"

"Better." Sybil nodded, and looked up at Mary from her work "I'm looking forward to it. I think it's what everyone needs."

"Have you heard what the young lieutenants are singing?"

"Yes, though I don't know what Granny will think of it."

"It was a nice idea, to have the concert outside." Edith said, hearing their conversation. She went to a bedside table "Where does Corporal Edward Trenton stay?"

"Why?"

"He asked for a book from the library, I forgot to mark it in Papa's ledger."

"He's the last bed on the left." Sybil nodded.

"Here, Anna, can you take these down? Just the one basket." Mary handed the dirty sheets to the passing maid.

"Yes ladyship."

"Was there any post today?" Sybil asked, following Mary into what used to be the drawing room. Now it was lined with beds, right now empty of patients. On such a fine day they would be out, getting what fresh air they could.

"Of course." She fluffed a pillow before tossing it on the bed and turned to the next cot.

"Help me with these sheets will you? Captain Groves had one of his fits again." Sybil tugged at the corners and Mary took the other end.

"How on earth did a man with epilepsy make it into the army?" Mary wondered, watching the men through the windows as she bent over, tugging at the bedclothes.

"He might've been able to hide them during peace time." Sybil shrugged. "Battle must have triggered them I suppose." Setting the dirty linens in the hamper, she glanced up. "What about the post?"

"Nothing really worth mentioning." She shrugged, "A stack for all the patients, the usual amount for Mama and Papa."

"Hm."

"Sybil! Mary!" it was Edith, Ethel behind her.

"What is it?"

"Papa wants us. He's just received a letter from someone in Matthew and William's regiment." They looked at each other before hurrying down to the small parlor.

"Who is it from?" Sybil asked, hurrying into the parlor, Edith and Mary close behind, arms still full of linens.

"It's from a Corporal St. John, from Matthew's regiment." Robert answered. "They wish to inform us that they received word this morning that after some period of time-" his voice seemed to be muffled in Sybil's ears, for as he was reading, she had looked out the window, noticing something.

"What is it?" Mary asked, noticing her.

"It's a man." Sybil said, moving toward the window, a bundle of sheets still in her arms. "Soldier by the looks of him." She stopped suddenly, moving back to the window.

"Is he injured?" Mary asked, Sybil shook her head. "Sybil?" No. That was impossible. It couldn't be…"Sybil?" Mary straightened "What's the matter with you?" Without another word she dropped the sheets, hurrying from the room, her boots clattering down the hall. "Sybil!" Mary went to the window this time to see what startled her. Robert stopped reading.

"Is that a whistle?" he asked suddenly.

"William!" from the servant's entrance came such a shriek that they all started.

"What was that?" they all hurried out front, looking over to the servant's entrance where. Little Daisy stood there in the hedge way, staring out to the drive. The other servants had crowded around behind her to see. The figure broke into a run, seeing the kitchen maid. Forgetting she wasn't allowed out front, Daisy bolted, red in the face and cheeks streaked with tears when she finally reached him.

"It's you!" she gasped before he kissed her soundly. All too soon they were ambushed by the others. Mrs. Patmore was holding his face, Anna and Bates were squeezing in to try and grasp his arms

"How wonderful! Oh it's wonderful!" Anna was crying. Mrs. Hughes' chin was wobbling as if she were about to cry, she touched the back of his head, as if to make her believe he was truly there.

"You're home again-" she said before Mr. Carson came into view, broad and stern usually, this demeanor was gone from him. His eyes softened, and he was smiling.

"Welcome home my boy," and he shook his hand. Miss O'Brian was there, and she nodded to him.

"For heaven's sake, let Daisy in." she said to the others "She's his best girl, not you lot."

"Excuse me." A voice from behind all of them made them stop. Realizing it was Lord Grantham, they all stepped back, bowing their heads. He didn't seem bothered by the hysterics previously displayed. He held out his hand to William, smiling. "Welcome home William."

"Thank you sir." The Crawley women greeted him with smiles,

"We're so glad you're back." Mary said,

"Lady Sybil." William said, and the youngest turned "Captain Crawley gave me this for you." He held out to her the whistle she'd given him, a little more battered than she remembered. Hands trembling, she took it from his outstretched hand. She couldn't speak, finding tears smarted in her eyes, staring at the little tin whistle. Steeling herself, she looked up at William.

"Where is he?" Sybil asked, and William turned to face her. He opened his mouth, when suddenly his eyes glanced over her shoulder, and he began to smile. The others saw, and turned. Cora grabbed Robert's arm, a hand over her mouth.

"It's a long way, to Tipperary, it's a long way to go!

Goodbye-"

She knew at one point she'd started walking towards him, that he'd stopped singing. When he began to run, she was already sprinting towards him, screaming and crying as her skirt and apron bunched around her knees. Matthew's pack collided with the dirt; he'd flung it off his shoulders as he wrapped her in his arms.

"I knew you were alive!" she gasped through her tears "I knew you would come back!" It was harder to say who did more kissing, but an equal amount was exchanged between the two. It didn't seem to matter what his lips met, her forehead, neck, cheeks. It was only so good to at last hold her.

"I told you I would come back." He said at last, "I will always come back to you." The others came running, and Cora didn't even bother to caution the girls from their unladylike cheering as they hurried to welcome Matthew home.

The war was far from over, and in a week or so, Matthew and William would have to go back to France, where they would face many more horrors, and find that man has his limits. William would not know in that week at Downton that he would come home deaf, nor could Matthew know he would lose his left arm protecting the young footman. But that is a story for another time.