After a ton of editing/revising, finally got this thing to its final form.

I really do not believe it is very good, so...beware of American-ized writing.

Reversed Roles

The pain is excruciating, endless, exhausting beyond belief. She feels the thing ripping her insides, tearing itself through. It is thrashing, kicking, begging to be let out.

Sybil's water had broken at roughly around three o'clock in the afternoon. She had been taking a walk with her husband when it occurred. Knowing it was time, her husband had lifted her into his arms (bridal style), and carried her back to Downton. As he had entered the estate, a surprised Cora had seen them and immediately questioned the inevitable. With a quick nod of his head, he asked her to ring for Dr. Clarkson. Soon, he carried his expectant wife into her room. After this, painful contractions had soon followed suit.

Now, it is roughly eight o'clock, and the child was not cooperating with its mother.

She loathes herself for thinking it, but Sybil dearly wished for the fetus to get out of body as quickly as possible. She doesn't care if the baby was ill. She will gladly take care of her child once it is out of her body! The pains are horrifying, and make her more irritable than per usual.

"It's normal for the pains to be rather uncomfortable. Feel free to scream if you need to." Dr. Clarkson informs her.

She nods and lets out a blood-curling scream.

Suddenly, she hears his voice. It is muffled, but she hears it nonetheless.

"Sybil! I must see my wife immediately…I DON'T GIVE A-"

"TOM! I want Tom!"

"Mrs. Branson-" Dr. Clarkson begins.

"I'm Sybil to you! None of this 'Mrs. Branson' business!"

"Very well. Sybil, your husband cannot come in. I'm sure you remember, but if he were to interfere-"

"I won't!" Tom cries out through the closed door.

"Please, Dr. Clarkson…" she pleads.

The doctor is about to respond when the door suddenly flies open. And just like the Tom she knows and loves, he pushes all in his path away so he could be at her side.

Dr. Clarkson begins to protest, but Tom simply states,

"She's my wife and she needs my company. I won't stand outside that damn door for another minute."

Sighing with resignation, Dr. Clarkson slightly nods his consent.

After rushing over to Sybil, Tom sits down and cradles her hand in his.

"It'll be alright, love. I'm here now."

"Tom…darling…hurts so much…"

Another scream.

"God…I wish there was something I could do…"

"Just be here. And we can just lie back and look at the stars…"

Her breaths are beginning to grow labored.

Dr. Clarkson does a final examination. With a brisk nod, he says,

"Alright Sybil. The baby is ready to come out. You can start pushing."

She pushes.

The baby doesn't come out.

She pushes again.

The child still doesn't come out.

"Harder, Sybil, harder!" Dr. Clarkson pleads.

"Come on, love. It'll be alright-"

"Tom!"

She grasps his hand. Her hold tightens at the agonizing cycle continues.

"You're almost there, Sybil! Keep pushing!" Dr. Clarkson's voice is tinged with worry.

"Oh God!" she screams frantically.

Sweat is profusely pouring down her face. Everything is beginning to become blurry, and the pains are completely unbearable by this point.

With a final heave, Sybil gathers all her strength and successfully pushes the baby out.

Relief soon overcomes her as she sees that tiny bundle lying on the sheets.

The nurse carried the child over to Sybil. Feel as free as a bird, she took the baby and nestled the tiny human in her harms.

"Tom…come see our child."

Beaming with pride, he takes the baby's tiny fingers into his own.

"Just like her mother…" he mumbles sweetly, kissing the top of his wife's head.

"Oh, Sybil! Darling, she's beautiful!"

Cora's voice cuts through all the fogginess of Sybil's mind, and she gladly allows her mother to hold the baby.

The entire family—whom has been waiting outside the door like Tom—floods into the room.

"Robert, come look at our first grandchild!"

Robert makes his way over, a giddy gleam in his eyes. Sybil does notice, however, that is skin is as white as a ghost's.

Poor Papa…he must have been worried to death!

"Mary, Edith. Come say hello to your niece." Robert beckons over the remaining two daughters.

Mary comes up first with Matthew by her side. Together, they gently hold the baby and coo over her.

"She's so lovely!" Mary is beaming while Matthew looks content.

"I'm going to be an uncle…" Matthew shakes his head in disbelief and smiles. "What a pleasant little niece I'm going to have!"

Edith finally comes up, and her eyes are filled with tears.

"Oh, Edith, don't cry! You'll make me begin to cry as well!" Sybil stretches out her hand. Edith takes her hand and slightly kisses her sister's knuckles.

"Darling, she's so beautiful! I'm just afraid I'll drop her when I hold her!"

Cautiously, Mary passes the child over to Edith.

Neither Mary nor Sybil ignores the tiny gleam of jealousy that is reflected in their sister's eyes.

Laying a hand on Edith's shoulder, Mary smiles and says,

"Don't worry, darling. One day it'll be you sitting in the bed, with a husband at your side."

Smiling slightly, Edith nods to Mary and passes the baby back to Sybil.

"Is there anything you need, dear?" Cora comes to her daughter' s bedside and strokes the baby's skin.

"Just some sleep…" Sybil slightly yawns as the words come out.

Cora smiles and kisses her daughter's head.

"You've deserved it."

Sybil cannot sleep.

No matter how hard she tries, she cannot get her mind to stop whirling.

She is worried about her baby.

Sighing, she gets up and lights a candle. Then, she goes over to the baby's crib to peek at her child.

She smiles as she sees her daughter's closed eyes. She's sleeping so soundly, so serenely, it almost doesn't look like she's sleeping at all…

Sybil doesn't look at the child for more than five minutes before she makes a startling observation:

The child is barely breathing.

Screaming, she grabs her wrapper and rapidly knocks on Tom's bedroom door (he had insisted on sleeping away from her so that she could get loads of rest).

"Tom! Tom! Open the door! TOM!"

Within a few seconds, her husband throws open the door and takes her into his arms.

"What is it?! What's happened?!"

"The baby! She's barely breathing-"

She doesn't get a chance to finish her sentence (nor does she need to). Tom is soon running to Robert and Cora's room, dragging his wife along with him.

Mary, however, meets them in the hallway with two worried parents.

"Sybil, dear! What ever is the matter-" Cora looks pale, and seems to need smelling salts.

"The baby's breaths are faint!" She cries out, not caring that she just interrupted her mother.

Gaping, Robert rushes to the nearest telephone and calls for Dr. Clarkson.

Mary goes off to wake the rest of the family (if they had not already been awakened by Sybil).

With a steadying breath, Cora pulls Tom and Sybil back to the baby.

"You two must stay with your child. It is necessary for-"

"Oh, Mama!" Sybil cries out, tears cascading down her face. "What if she's already-"

"You mustn't think like that, Sybil."

"But-"

"Darling, calm down-" Her husband is suddenly gathering her in his arms, tears flowing down his face as well.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Tom! Our baby could be-"

"Don't say it! She won't, she can't…"

Tom hastily wipes his tears away, trying to stay strong for the both of them.

"It'll be alright, love, don't you see? Look, the stars are twinkling brightly-"

She shakes her head and buries herself into his warmth. He grasps her head, gently massaging her curls as his own fears begin to cloud his mind.

Soon, Dr. Clarkson arrives.

"I do apologize for the delay-" He begins to explain, but then sees the child and is rushing over to the crib.

Murmuring sweet nothings, Tom tries to soothe Sybil.

Somehow, through the worrisome sobs, the pair hears hushed whispers coming from Dr. Clarkson.

"It cannot live at the present state…not enough oxygen has been delivered to the brain…Nothing more I can do…"

And then, with bated breaths, all assembled watches as the tiny body—which had previously been a healthy shade of red—turns blue.

Though Sybil had not been suffering from eclampsia as Dr. Clarkson had previously thought, she wished she had been the one whose life had been taken.

The child died as a result of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS). It was a rarity among childbirths, but there was an unexplainable autopsy. According to Dr. Clarkson, not enough research had been done to determine the cause of death.

After the delivery, Sybil had fallen into a dark state of depression. She had only known her daughter for a few hours, which did not help ease the pain of loss. This fact alone made her cease eating, and soon she grew to be unhealthily underweight.

Tom, on the other hand, was trying to brave it out. He began to drink more, which also added to his wife's sadness. He did not blame Sybil, but nevertheless he tended to avoid her for increased increments of time.

When it came time to bury the small child, Tom and Sybil talked to each other for the first time in days.

"What should we call her?" Though Sybil's voice was monotonous, there was a twinge of heartwarming, motherly love in her lilt.

Luckily, Tom observed the slight difference in tone.

"We can name her anything you want."

She sighed as she affixed black, elbow-length gloves over her ivory skin.

Tom watched his wife with trepidation. He was shocked to see how the past few days had altered her greatly.

There were heavy bags beneath her eyes, darkened even more so by the lack of color in her usually bright orbs. Her complexion was pale and marble-like, similar to the color of their deceased newborn's skin. No laughs or any other sighs of happiness escaped her lips; the former had grown more and more translucent as the days wore on. Her clothing had begun to hang loosely on her unhealthy frame.

It was—undoubtedly—the saddest thing Tom had ever witness in his life.

Unsure of what to do, he simply walked over to his wife and gently kissed her forehead. The only reason he refrained any connection with her faded pink lips was due to his belief that it was much too daring to attempt any intimate gestures at such a depressing time.

Sybil slightly smiled, but fatigue still lingered in her demeanor.

"It's my fault, you know." Her voice was tiny and broken, like an abandoned toy.

"Don't say that…" He gently moved a strand of hair out of her eyes. "You aren't to blame-"

"It's true!" she practically screamed. "Had I not been so careless-"

"Darling, you couldn't have known! No one is to blame-"

"Damn it, Tom, it's true! Don't bloody try denying it! I KILLED OUR BABY!"

For a moment, there was only silence. Time casually ticked by; minute by minute, second by second. The time itself was a bully, mocking their incompetent argument over such a trifle matter. It steadily continued its menacing advance, biting at their current instability.

It was a rare occasion when Sybil cussed. Yes, she did have her…tempter…but selfdom did she use a sailor's tongue!

After the initial shock had receded, Tom drew his wife into a tight embrace. No words were necessary. Together, they sobbed over their shared loss. Cries of heartbreak and love permeated the miniscule space between them. Wet moisture began to spill down cheeks and onto the other's clothes. Tiny clumps of hair began to drift to their feet as fingers weaved themselves tightly into the other's scalp for steadiness. Their ragged breaths echoed the other's while unspeakable (and rather unbearable) pain twisted and contorted their lungs.

Gradually, the sobs subsided. Horrified screams ceased, and the air was still once more. Rivulets of tears had finally dried out. The labored breaths calmed to their normal rate.

After a moment, Tom gazed into his wife's eyes. There was still a hint of sadness in the grey-blue orbs he adored so much. Without a moment's hesitation, he grasped her hands and declared,

"I promised to devote every waking minute to your happiness, didn't I? I will always hold true to that, love, always. I love you, and this is just other obstacle we'll have to face. But we'll brave through it, you'll see. Our love is strong. And as long as we're together, nothing can stop us, alright? Nothing."

She gazed him for a long while before flinging her arms around his neck.

"God, what did I do to deserve a man such as you in my life?"

Smiling, he held her close, burying himself into her flesh once more. With as much tenderness as he could muster, he sighed softly to her,

"I love you, Sybil Branson. Forever and always."

"And I love you, Tom Branson. Till death do us part."

Beaming, she took his face into her hands and kissed him full on the lips. The kiss was not probing or full of lust, but rather it was comforting and gentle. It was not necessary for it to be fierce; just a simple caress of lips was enough at the time. Though it still felt extremely improper to be expressing such intimacy with each other on such a gloomy day, they soon lost themselves in each other.

"We'll call her Sybil." Tom stated as they broke apart. "Strong like her mother, and just as beautiful."

Blushing, she nodded her consent.

They were not stupid. It would not be easy to get over such a tragedy within the time span of a few minutes. But somehow, with each other, they would fight through it with every fibre of their beings.

Because braving through the worst would eventually lead them out of the tremendous storm that looms about them.

I did a little bit of research on SIDS, so this wasn't entirely unbelievable...

And yes, I am a cruel, cruel woman. But this has been flitting about my mind...

The main reason I wrote this was to commemorate the deaths of the children who were murdered in Newtown. Today marks 2 weeks since the shooting. So this goes out to them, as well as their families. How anyone would have the audacity to look into the faces of young children and murder them is beyond my comprehension.

RIP darlings. You are missed everyday.