Lights Out.
...
Downton Abbey
1920
...
Eleven o'clock morphed into twelve and from there the small hand inevitably turned to one in the morning. Time trickled by, marked only by those the obnoxiously sonorous 'tick-tocking' of the old grandfather clock at the far corner of the room.
Fitfully, Cora Crawley twisted onto her side.
The sheets were in a sweaty tangled knot around her body and despite the foreignness of the situation, she barely took notice of the emptiness beside her in bed...emptiness that was usually occupied by the warm flannel-pyjamaed body of her husband.
No, Cora was adamant that she couldn't have Robert anywhere near her right now...not after what had so very nearly happened to their family because of her husband's foolhardiness and snobbery.
The image of her youngest daughter -her baby girl- so frightfully pale and seizing in agony...it wasn't something that she, or any mother, could easily wipe from her memory.
The mere thought of the fate that had almost befallen her darling Sybil sent an icy cold shiver down her spine and in that moment, Cora desperately wanted to be anywhere but curled up in bed.
Sighing frustratedly, The dark haired Countess knew that waiting for the tendrils of sleep to pull her under would only proved futile.
So slipping out of bed, she gracelessly tossed off the heavy covers from her tired body and reached blindly in the darkness for her dressing gown.
The wooden floor of the bedroom gallery was cool beneath her bare feet.
Mindlessly, as though she were sleep walking, her feet brought her to the door of Sybil's bedroom.
Even from her place outside in the hallway, Cora could hear the shallow and laborious breaths of her sleeping daughter-a sound that made her own heart ache and her stomach twist painfully.
She needed to see her daughter, needed to know that she was alive, needed to know that she was going to be okay.
Quietly, so she wouldn't alarm Mary, Matthew or Edith who were asleep in rooms at either side of Sybil's, Cora gently creaked the door open and poked her head inside.
To her initial surprise, the bedside lamp was turned on, casting an marmalade hued glow across the room.
Upon entering her daughter's childhood bedroom, Cora was greeted by a sight that she knew shouldn't have surprised her- even though she had originally believed that the whole family were long since retired for the night.
Sitting bleary eyed with mussed hair and day old stubble was Sybil's husband Tom Branson- the younger of Cora's two son-in-laws and the house's former chauffeur.
Curled up in his arms was his and Sybil's new born daughter, a little girl with the tiniest pink cherub face and a tuft of dark brown fluff atop her head...just like her mother, the baby was sleeping, head tucked soundly against her father's chest.
Looking away from the chair where her son in law and grandchild were seated, Cora glanced down at her own baby girl, the steady rise and fall of the twenty four year old's chest acting as a balm to the nerves that had run ragged for the past few days in her poor Mama
...'and her husband too', Cora added silently to herself, taking in the young Irishman's exhausted expression and bloodshot eyes.
Tom was apparently still very much oblivious to his mother-in-law's presence in the room, eyes fixed on his wife and child as though he were afraid that they would disappear at a moments notice before his very eyes.
He squeezed Sybil's hand, as though trying to convince himself that she was real...that she was living and breathing and still here with him and their baby girl.
Despite Cora's initial misgivings on her daughter's choice of husband, the older woman was admittedly rather touched by the sight before her.
Tom had point blank refused to leave Sybil's side after the horrible fright they had all gotten when her health took a drastic turn after giving birth.
But Sybil had fought hard and she was here with them now...that was all that mattered.
"You know, Tom", Cora said softly, trying not to wake her daughter and granddaughter as she gently admonished her son in law. "Sybil won't be happy if you drop down from exhaustion once she's recovered."
Tom jumped slightly, evidently just as surprised as Cora had originally been at the prospect of company. "Couldn't I say the same thing to you, your Ladyship?", he responded tiredly, old habits dying hard as he fumbled to find his bearings.
His mother in law ignored the slip up and took a seat at the edge of Sybil's mattress.
Now that she was looking Tom directly in the eye, Cora could truly see the toll that the last couple of days had taken on him...second to only the toll they had taken on Sybil herself.
She imagined that she would have looked somewhat the same had she been bothered to look in the mirror.
Just then, the baby fussed for a moment, still snoozing, and curled closer to her father...tiny fingers grasping on to the rough linen material of his nightshirt.
"Sshh", Tom whispered softly as he reassuringly pecked the top of the little girl's head.
His eyes were clearly full of love for tiny human in his arms, it was just as evident as the pure and unadulterated fear that was scarcely hidden on his face...fear for the woman who was both his wife and his baby's mother. "You're alright, my little darlin'."
Cora sighed, for the first time truly seeing a profound similarity between her daughter and the former chauffeur; it was clear that both Sybil and Tom cared with the entirety of their hearts and were far too stubborn for their own good.
The thought, for some reason, made Cora feel a whole lot more comfortable in the presence of Tom Branson.
It was true that the family didn't really know nothing about him beyond his former position at Downton, but their darling Sybil had found a kindred spirit in the former chauffeur...shouldn't her faith in him count for something.
In that moment, Cora decided that it should.
"What about this little one then?", she asked, trying to sound bright despite the tiredness that laced her voice.
She smiled fondly at her tiny granddaughter, finding that despite the intensity and pain of the last few days, the response came naturally when looking at the adorable little child...Sybil's child.
Glancing upwards, Cora turned to the tired young man sitting before her with an almost maternal frown of disapproval.
Whether she liked it or not, Tom Branson was her son in law now and the father of her grandchild to boot, that certainly changed things...changed things in ways that Cora was certain her youngest daughter would be glad of.
"Doesn't she need her father sharp?"
Tom shook his head adamantly, and in that moment Cora knew for certain that her and her son in law both would be unmovable from their place keeping Sybil's bedside vigil for the coming days.
"You needn't worry about me."
Cora smiled softly at her son in law as she took Sybil's other hand at the opposite side of the bed, relieved when she noticed how it had regained much of it's usual warmth and colour.
"You're my daughter's husband...of course I'll worry."
At that Tom shrugged sheepishly but made no further comment, something that managed to elicit a humourless smirk from his mother in law.
'Naturally, Sybil chose a husband every bit as stubborn as herself', Cora mused, glancing between her daughter, her son in law and her first grandchild.
She thought of the night just after The War had ended, a night that was really not so long ago...Cora thought of how Sybil and Tom had stood defiantly before the whole family in the drawing room and announced their engagement. She thought of the horror that she had felt at her daughter's determination to marry the young Irish chauffeur...a horror that she no longer felt when she looked upon Tom Branson, a man who clearly loved Sybil with his whole heart.
In hindsight, everything had turned out exactly as it was always meant to be, Cora could see that now...the sleeping bundle in Tom's arms was living and breathing proof of that.
A newborn baby...a newborn beginning.
Both mother in law and son in law were quiet for a time, enveloped in their shared relief and hope for Sybil and the baby's future. Their renewed sense of ease with one another felt warm and tangible in a room that had come so close...so frightfully, terrifyingly close...to seeing tragedy only days before.
Things were going to get better from here on out...they could feel it now.
"She'll be alright...both of them will."
"Of course...they're fighters."
"Our fighters."