A/N Here's the main, present-day portion of Downton Academy. For those of you who have read my prequel, thank you very, very much. For those of you who haven't, it you might want to take a look at it, because it provides some necessary background; without it, some of this might not make sense.

Brief recap: Robert Crawley is the founder (and owner) of Downton Academy, an exclusive, private school in Chicago. Charles Carson is the headmaster for boys, and Elsie Hughes is the headmistress for girls. The rest of the faculty, staff, and board of directors are rounded out by all the other characters we know and love.

As a reminder, for this AU, I've pushed things forward 100 years from canon. That means that the characters are roughly the ages they would have been in 1915, or somewhere between S1 and S2. I've cheated and included characters who don't appear on the show until later series, but I hope you'll forgive me for that. And no one has died, so our dearly departed, beloved, deceased characters (William, Sybil, Matthew ...) are still with us.

This story uses a "real-time" format, so the events you read about today are meant to happen on today's date. I will at times reference actual weather conditions and sports scores. I hope to be able to post a chapter a day.

Enough preamble. On with the story!

Monday, November 30, 2015

Elsie popped her head into Charles's office first thing in the morning. "How was your Thanksgiving break, Mr. Carson?" she inquired pleasantly.

He stopped sorting through his papers and looked up. "You know perfectly well how my holiday was, Ms. Hughes, since we spent most of it together." He waited until she entered and closed the door to ensure their privacy before continuing. "Thanksgiving at the estate with the Crawleys and the Levinsons … turkey … and … football. It's all so … American," he grumbled with an air of disdain. "The younger Mrs. Crawley is perfectly lovely and a wonderful hostess, but her mother and brother! Why, they're enough to … Well, they're just so … so … "

"American?" she supplied helpfully.

"Precisely! And Mr. Molesley! Good grief! I do hope he's recovered by now. The man is hopeless. One drink and he's done for. I'm not sure which was worse: his despondent wailing after the Bears lost last year or his unbridled ebullience after their victory this year!"

Elsie tried to curtail Charles's tirade. "Steady on, Mr. Carson! He's just enthusiastic. Overly so, perhaps, but there's no harm in that. I admire his spirit."

"He's 'enthusiastic,' all right! And so were you and Ms. Patmore when you dragged Peter and me out bright and early on Black Friday, Christmas shopping for the staff. I'll never do that again. I say it every year, but this year, I really mean it."

"Oh, come now. Peter didn't seem to mind. And someone had to carry all the packages," she teased.

"So I'm simply a beast of burden, am I? And here I thought you enjoyed my charming personality." Charles shot back sarcastically.

"And so we would have … if you'd stopped grousing for five minutes."

Charles barreled on with his complaining. "And then helping you decorate your flat! Peter and I had to wrestle with that blasted tree … dragging it up all those stairs … I don't know why you insist on a real one. It's such a hassle – and such a mess. And having to untangle all those bloody lights! Why don't you just get a pre-lit, artificial tree and be done with it?"

"And take all the fun out of it?" she asked with a smirk. "You're such an old curmudgeon."

"Less of the 'old,' if you will, please."

"I'll stop calling you 'old' when you stop behaving that way. It's not your age; it's your attitude, Mr. Carson, your whole outlook. Listen to you!"

Charles sighed with the realization that Elsie was correct, as usual. "You're right. I'm sorry. The holiday wasn't all bad. The younger Mrs. Crawley's dinner was sumptuous, as usual. Ms. Patmore's apple crumble is always a delight – as is her treacle tart. Excepting the aforementioned Levinsons, the company was mostly pleasant. It's always a pleasure to speak with the elder Mrs. Crawley. But having Peter home was certainly the highlight. He's doing so well. I'm so pr- " Charles stopped abruptly and cleared his throat before continuing. "You must be very proud of him. He made it back to Boston safely, I assume? He called or texted you last night?"

"He did. His trip back was smooth and uneventful … but I miss him already," Elsie admitted wistfully. "After four years at Stanford, I thought his being at MIT for graduate school would be better. It's quite a bit closer, after all. But the reality is that I don't see him any more frequently. It's still only Thanksgiving, Christmas, spring break, and a week or two over the summer."

"I know. I miss him, too," Charles added quietly.

"And it's all right to say you're proud of him, Charles."

He cast his eyes down. "Yes, well, I don't want to overstep."

"You could never. The lad adores you," said Elsie resolutely. "And I'm glad of it. After Joe died … Well, you know I have no brothers, and neither did Joe. My dad and Joe's father are both gone now. I'm just grateful you've been here for Peter."

"Thank you for that," he said quietly. "But I'm certain I've got more out of the bargain than he has."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," returned Elsie with a fond smile.

Both were pensive for a moment. Then Elsie gathered herself and said, "Well, then. I'll let you get on with your day, and I'll go and get on with mine. I'm going to put up a few Christmas decorations in my office before I get on with my work. I'll see you later for coffee?"

"Of course," he replied, and so began the day.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She'd finished up the last of her work for the day and popped her head into his office to say good night. She found him sitting at his desk, holding a picture and staring longingly at it. It was a picture of Alice that he kept in a frame on his desk: not a formal, posed, studio shot, but a candid shot that had been taken on an ordinary day. She was dressed casually and wore no makeup, and her hair was a bit untidy, but she sported the most brilliant smile. He claimed it was his favorite, because it was proof that his wife had been beautiful always, even without making any special effort.

Generally, Charles didn't allow anyone to see him in this melancholy state while he was at work. During the school day, the headmaster of Downton Academy was all business, strictly professional. He addressed even his closest friends and his most junior colleagues by their formal titles, never allowing a given name or nickname to slip. He rarely spoke of personal matters and remained calm and focused at all times. Even during his ritual morning coffee breaks with Elsie in his office and their afternoon tea in her office, their conversation almost always revolved around curriculum, staff, schedules, budgets, and other scholastic matters. From the first morning bell to the afternoon dismissal bell, Charles Carson was the consummate academician. But occasionally, early in the morning before anyone else had arrived or late in the evening after everyone else had left, he let down his guard and became just a man; and occasionally, Elsie was allowed a glimpse of that man. This was one of those occasions.

When Elsie appeared at his door, he sensed her presence but didn't look up.

"Do you ever wish you'd never fallen in love? Do you ever think it wasn't worth the heartbreak?" he questioned without taking his eyes off the picture.

"No," she answered emphatically. "I don't. The joy of it was absolutely worth every single tear, every bit of heartache. But as you well know, the greater your love is, the greater the pain is when it's torn away."

Charles sighed. "Do you know when I fell in love with her?" he asked rhetorically. "As soon as we met, the first time she called me Charles. Grigg kept calling me Charlie. He always did, and I hated it. But I when I introduced myself as Charles, Alice addressed me that way without batting an eye. She'd only just met me, but she'd paid attention, noticed something so seemingly trivial, and realized it was important to me."

"That doesn't surprise me. She was always like that." Elsie smiled, remembering her friend affectionately.

"The holidays are always the worst, aren't they?"

"Yes," she agreed. "And birthdays and anniversaries … "

"Will it ever get easier, Elsie?"

"A bit. You'll never stop missing her, nor loving her, but in time, you'll learn to move on. She'll always be part of you. But she's part of your past, and she'd want you have a future. You can never have her back, but you can be grateful for what you had. Your time with her made you who you are. Her love lives on in you. Don't become bitter or get mired down in regret. Instead, use your happy memories to shape a brighter future. She'd want that for you. She loved you, Charles, and she would want you to be happy."

"I'm sure you're right. I just don't want to move on right now. It hurts too much." Charles's voice cracked, and a lone tear made its way down his cheek.

"I know. But one day, you will move on. It was Alice who helped me start living again after Joe died. Life is too short for lamenting what can never be. This world has plenty of goodness to offer you, if you'll just accept it."

"But how long will it take for me to get there? How long did it take you after … after you lost Joe? Have you ever truly gotten over him?"

"It's not a question of 'getting over.' It's a matter of 'getting on,'" Elsie explained. "I'll never 'get over' him. He was a good man. I loved him with all my heart, and I will miss him every day for the rest of my life. But he's gone, and there's nothing I can do to bring him back. I must get on with my life. Alice helped me realize that. She told me to go on living life in a way that would make him proud. And that's what you should do, Charles: live life."

"How did you become so wise, Elsie?"

"I listened to your wife. And so should you." She leaned over and kissed his one cheek while cupping the other gently. "You'll get there, Charles. In your own good time."

"Thank you for that, Elsie. You're very convincing. You almost make me believe that I just might get there someday," he said with a sad smile.

"Good night, Charles. I'll see you in the morning." And with that, she left him in quiet reflection.

A/N Drop me a line, please? I would love a review. Thanks!