A/N: Okay, last installment on this one. I'm very grateful for the feedback from everyone.

It took close to a month to get the judgment from the court releasing him. The testimony from Mrs. Bartlett proved difficult for Anna to track down as the woman had moved to the continent shortly after Vera's death. But after much letter writing and, he suspected, a bit of money changed hands under the table, Mrs. Bartlett was finally prevailed upon to tell her story truthfully.

In the end, it meant that Bates would be a free man.

The wardens gave him no special attention on the day he was released. He'd anticipated another beating, a parting reminder of his time in prison. Instead, they simply brought him the suit he'd worn to trial so he could change out of his prison wear. The old clothes had moth damage and hung on his thinner frame, but he switched into them eagerly. They'd even retained his bowler hat and cane, for which he was grateful.

As he stepped out of the door to the prison, finally a free man, he could barely contain his elation and quiet the desperate beat of his heart. He'd never thought it was possible. Indeed, he'd given up all hope of freedom, and he'd given up Anna. Thankfully for him, Anna had not given him up, despite the heartache he'd put her through.

She was waiting for him outside the prison. He hadn't been entirely sure she would.

Under her wool jacket she wore a filmy white shirt, the one he remembered from their wedding. And while the clouds in the sky cast shadows over the city, Anna seemed to be made completely of sunshine. Flashing him a grin of utter delight, she ran to meet him, not stopping until she found herself caught up in his arms.

For a moment, he simply held her, everything else forgotten but the feel of her, warm and soft and so very real. Unlike his dreams, she was actually there, her arms tight around him, the scent of her engulfing him. After three long years, he could finally touch his wife properly again, could assure himself that she was flesh and blood and not an ephemeral angel from heaven.

"Thank God," she noted as they broke apart.

He had to chuckle at her simple expression of relief. "No," Bates told her. "Thank you."

And he kissed her. He could have kissed her forever right there, before God and the rest of the universe. But as she pulled away from him and took his hand to lead him back to the car, Bates remembered that they had a life waiting for them.

Anna refused to discuss it for a long time after. Every time he brought up the subject, she'd ignore him or change it to a more pleasant topic. And for a long time, he let her avoid it, let her distract him with kisses and smiles and wistful plans for their future.

He let her avoid it as he retook over his job as Lord Grantham's valet and settled back into life at Downton, and he did not press the subject as they spent time getting the cottage ready to move into. Nor did he bring it up those first few weeks of marital bliss when everything felt amazing. Every kiss was like their first kiss and every touch left him wanting more. They could not get enough of each other and Bates had no desire to ruin their newly wed feeling, at least not right away.

But finally, one day a few weeks after his release from prison, Bates could stand it no longer.

"Are we ever going to talk about it?" he asked one evening while she was in the kitchen preparing tea. He'd just arrived at the cottage from the house, the issue having pressed on him all day.

"Talk about what?" Anna asked.

"About what I said to you, before, in prison."

He needed to elaborate no further. Her eyes darkened immediately in understanding, a cloud falling across her face.

"I don't see why we need to talk about it," Anna responded, focusing on the kettle rather than him.

With a sigh, he contradicted, "I think we must."

She shook her head. "You're home now, away from that horrible place. It's forgotten."

"We both know that isn't true."

He'd hurt Anna - badly. She rarely let it show, but sometimes he could see it deep in her eyes. The implicit trust she'd always given him had been shaken from its foundation. He'd done it with the best of motives, with the purest of intentions, but he'd still caused his wife unspeakable pain. Unforgivable pain.

"I only wanted what was best for you, but I know how much I hurt you."

"You gave up on me," she said, finally turning towards him.

"I was trying to set you free," he explained. "I never, ever gave up on you."

As Anna responded, he could hear the hurt in her voice, a sort of pain he knew was devoid of anger or resentment. Rather, it was the sound of submissive suffering. "You wanted me to divorce you, to accuse you of abandonment and cruelty. As if you've ever been cruel to me in your life and as if you had any choice in leaving me. And why? So I could move on and forget you. You hoped I would eventually marry again, have children, build a different life. Those are all very noble wishes, John."

"Noble... and misguided?" he asked cautiously.

"Noble and stupid."

He nodded in agreement with her description. "Can you ever forgive me?" he asked.

"How am I supposed to forgive you for wanting me to have a better life?"

"Forgive me for hurting you," Bates suggested.

Anna took a shuddering breath, as though reliving the agony he'd put her through. "I don't know. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for that."

He supposed that he deserved the wave of utter wretchedness which washed over him at her pronouncement, but it still sickened him all the same.

"Then that makes two of us," he reflected.

Only the small length of the kitchen separated them, and Bates suddenly yearned for his wife's warmth. Even if he was forever denied her forgiveness, he knew he still had her love. She'd demonstrated that would remain constant, no matter what happened between them. And now, at long last, thanks to her perseverance and faith, he had a lifetime to try and make it up to her.

"Anna..." he began, not sure what to say.

While he did regret hurting her, he could not help but continue to believe that his actions had been right and proper at the time. He knew Anna, and he knew that her honor and integrity would have kept her faithful to him through a lifetime of incarceration. He also knew that if he'd let her go through with such a sacrifice, it would be a worse crime to him than even the murder for which he'd been convicted.

Anna deserved so much - happiness and joy and love. He could never be the reason for her not having those things.

"I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you," Bates said.

She regarded him for a moment, seemingly considering his statement. Finally, she responded, "Just spend the rest of your life loving me, and I'll call it square."

"I will love you until my last breath, Anna Bates," he told her with utter sincerity. "And be there an afterlife, I will continue to love you with all of my heart and my soul."

Even as he moved towards her, she stepped forward to meet him. Enveloping her in his arms, he marveled once again at this freedom. Beyond all the colors in the fields or the brightness of the sky, the thing he missed the most while in prison was the freedom to touch his wife.

fin