FIC: When Numbness Sets In
I am not entirely pleased with this but I do like it enough to share :)
As before SPOILERS for Seasn 3 Episode 2 and perhaps the trailers for Episode 3 BUT not in the same universe as As Simple As Money
Title: When Numbness Sets In
Rating: PG
Pairings: Nothing very overt
From Carson's POV
They were doing all right to begin with, once the initial shock had worn off and the numbness had set in. The routine below stairs was adapted a little, as much as Elsie would allow it to be and they carried on as they always had. Things were, he had been informed, ‘progressing slowly’ and so once this new routine was agreed things seemed to return to a strange sort of normality. He knew however that this could not last forever, that however slowly things were developing that the end was inevitable.
On the morning when something first appeared to have changed, Elsie had arrived at the breakfast table late. For all that her complexion had not been it’s usual rose tinted hue for sometime, she had been positively grey this day, her countenance and expression stiff.
“Apologies for my tardiness, Mr Carson,” she offered, as he stood and she took her customary seat.
“Are you…?” he began but tailed off as the term ‘quite well’ no longer seemed appropriate.
“Well enough thank you, even if everything is taking a little longer this morning than I would like.” And with that she turned to Anna, dismissing the matter as complete. He was not the only one to note that she ate little however, or that as the day wore on the pinched lines around her eyes grew more severe. At four o’clock he found himself being ushered into the kitchen immediately upon his return from upstairs.
“Tea,” Mrs Patmore said placing a teapot on the tray she was setting, “And scones, today’s mind and the last of the rhubarb preserve. That might take her fancy when nowt else has,” she said, looking at him pointedly.
“Is…”
“In her sitting room this last half hour,” the other woman said lifting the now laden tray and handing it to him, “the doctor said there would be good days and bad..” His jaw clenched of it’s own accord but he nodded none the less.
Knocking on the door, he waited for her to bid him entrance before he turned the handle and stepped in.
“Mr Carson,” she greeted him from her desk, “what…?”
“Afternoon tea, Mrs Hughes,” he said lightly, finding a spot on the table for the tray, “I thought we might share it you’re not apposed?” She looked at him directly and raised an eyebrow, she knew exactly what his intentions were.
“We’ll I suppose you had better take a seat then, and I’ll pour.” It was a typical acquiescence but he was far from convinced. She rose slowly from her seat, a distinct flash of pain crossing her face before she seemed to breath through it and move around the desk. She tried to distract him with a question about the wine cellar but when she bent to lift the pot he couldn’t help but be drawn to her sharp inhale.
“Mrs Hughes?” he asked, standing again and stepping forward to where she was stood over the table, a hand leaning against the wood and the other at her back.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, her eyes closed and breathing shallow. “It’s nothing really.”
“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not entirely convinced,” he replied shortly. “Let me at least help,” he continued. He knew it must be bad, he could see it in the set of her jaw and the tremble of her lip.
“It’ll pass,” she managed after a moment.
“Let’s get you seated,” he urged, stepping closer again and with a hand as gentle as he could make it on her waist and the other at her elbow, he guided her to the softer cushions of the small settee. Once she was settled, he turned to the tea tray partly out of desire to give her a little space and partly to give himself something he might focus on. By the time he had poured tea and spread jam upon one of the still warm scones, it seemed that she had gathered herself a little even if he’d had little success.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed over the cup and saucer but declined the plate with the scone. He didn’t push the matter for the time being. Instead, he pulled one of the high backed chairs away from the wall and set it facing the settee.
“Is this…” he tried after a minute of silence, “is it expected?”
“I would think it must have something to do with the cancer, yes,” she said dryly.
“Is it… Has it been…That is to say…”
“I find that I am developing some new aches and pains,” she said once she had found the words, “some of which I can only describe as bone deep and seem to be preventing me from getting comfortable today.”
“Have you seen Dr Clarkson?”
“I’m not due to see him for another two weeks.” she said wearily.
“But surely,”
“It was to get worse one way or another Mr Carson, and my end will come whichever way it goes.”
“But surely, if you are in so much pain and..” he pushed through her protest, “there is little point arguing that you are not, there will be something that could be done.” He did not wilt under her glare but the watery smile that she eventually graced him with was almost enough to break him.
“As enjoyable as this interlude has been,” she said some time later, “I’m quite positive that we both have work to be getting on with.”
“There’s no need for you to,” he began.
“There’s every need,” she countered as she took a deep breath and eased upright with a hiss, “especially if I am to see Dr Clarkson this week after all.”
“Tomorrow,” he reiterated, standing to offer her any assistance she might accept.
“If he can spare the time,” she rebuffed. She had reached the edge of the seat but had stalled. “Just a moment,” she breathed as he lent to offer her aid. When she did make a move to stand however it was cut short by gasp she couldn’t quite suppress and he quickly helped lower her back down. Her breathing was so rapid now as to concern him, as did the moisture on her brow and the trembling that wracked her limbs.
“Elsie?” he asked, finding himself on his knees beside her.
“Ju… Just a moment…”
“Rest there, I’ll send for the doctor,” he said rising back to his feet.
“I… No… I… It’ll pass…”
“I am sending for Dr Clarkson and that is an end to the matter,” Charles declared suddenly finding himself almost angry with her. He crossed the room quickly and pulled open the door with more force than was necessary. “Mrs Patmore,” he called turning towards the kitchen, “would you be good enough,” he continued his tone much softer now, “to step into Mrs Hughes’ sitting room while I call for Dr Clarkson?” She watched him as she dried her hands, but didn’t question him before draping her cloth across the back of the chair and doing as he requested.
“There’s little room for doubt. It’s in her bones,” Dr Clarkson said, accepting the cup he was offered, “It's not the nicest way to go by any stretch but I’ll do what I can to make her comfortable.”
“Is there anything else we can do?” Lady Cora asked.
“It really is a question of keeping the pain manageable now I’m afraid. If she’s lucky it wont be long.” The teacup in Charles’ hand shook as he offered it to His Lordship. The Earl accepted it with no more than an understanding glance in his direction before turning back to the doctor.
“Should we be considering… will it be necessary for her to be moved to the hospital?”
“It may be helpful at some stage but I don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet. Mrs Hughes is determined,” he hovered over the word and the room shared an knowing moment, “that she’ll only take what relief she must to function for now but though I admire her dedication I can’t see that lasting for long.”
“Well, Mr Carson, the two of us shall just have to make sure she doesn’t over do it now, won’t we?”
“Your Ladyship,” he inclined his head in agreement, though how they would go about it he had no idea.
“Then it will just be a question of time,” Lord Grantham said absently, before lifting his teacup, “you’ll see that she has everything she requires and that there’s a bed for her if needed.”
“Of course, Your Lordship,” the doctor agreed.
As it happened, they managed to put off such a necessity for almost a month but it cost them all to admit that the time had come when it could no longer continue and Elsie more than most. Despite Mrs Patmore’s bets efforts she was as thin as a rail, and though Anna and Miss O’Brien had stepped up to the mark without so much as a word of complaint, it had gotten to the point where there were very few of her old duties she could fulfil without assistance.
“It has reached the point, Mr Carson,” she said one afternoon, “where I am more work than I am help and I fear that it won’t be long before I’m no help at all.” He had thought to contradict this but he could see just how weary she was beneath the façade, as well as the resolution in her eyes.
“I…” he began, but she reached across and placed a hand upon his own much larger ones.
“I have already discussed it with Dr Clarkson and I am to go to the hospital tomorrow.”
“Of course…” he began but not knowing what else to say he trailed off.
“I thought I might walk.” This statement not only startled him for coming after several moments of silence but the words itself caught him out. Energy conservation had become so essential as to become the central focus of her daily routine so that somehow the idea of her walking to the hospital was strange to say the least.
“Pardon?” he asked, quite certain that he must have misheard.
“I thought I might walk down to the village, if you would be so good as to walk with me?”
“Of course,” he agreed, “but you need not…” She smiled at him and he stopped midway.
“I know I don’t need to, but I thought I would like to. It is not far and I would like to see the path one last time, to be able to turn back and look at Downton as I leave.”
“Then that is what we will do, Mrs Hughes,” he declared, falling back on old and familiar patterns.
“Good, now if you don’t mind, I think I might rest my eyes until it’s time for more of that infernal medication.”
“Of course not,” he said biding farewell and taking his leave.
The left when the downstairs was almost empty and those who were still there were caught in their own tasks. It was a slow pace they set and she held on to his arm with far stronger a grip than she had in the past but still, Charles was almost able to convince himself that it was one of their rare joint excursions to the village.
“They will be angry with me a fear, for letting you slip away,” he said over the sound of footfalls on the gravel.
“I don’t think I could have borne it, tears in the pantry. Beside I may have weeks of bedridden boredom which I will need relieved from and I needed to make sure someone has cause to visit me.” He couldn’t bring himself to comment on this.
They were just crossing the driveway when the front door opened and His Lordship appeared, crossing towards them without a care for decorum.
“Cora, that is Lady Cora, said you had seen her this morning,” he began breathlessly. “I had hoped that…” he trailed off and Charles sympathised with his lack of words. “I wanted to say… Thank you,” he settled on, taking her by the upper arms and kissing her gently on the cheek.
“It has been a pleasure, Your Lordship,” her voice was steady but the emotion was clear.
“Well, Carson and Clarkson both have instructions to insure that you have everything you might need,” the Earl continued.
“I think my needs will be simple and short lived,” she replied with a soft smile and Charles felt his breath catch in his chest at the turn of phrase, “but I appreciate your continuing generosity.”
“Well,” the other man said obviously at a loss.
“We had better be getting on, Your Lordship,” Charles said, excusing them as well as he might.
“Fare well, then and God bless,”
“Your Lordship,” she inclined her head and he did the same as they turned back to their path. He stayed until she was settled, until she dismissed him back to the house as though their staff would not be well able to handle things any longer and while he would have stayed she was asleep before he had left the door.
There was a quiet upstairs and down, that pervaded everything over the following days. Mrs Patmore went down to the village the following morning and Anna in the afternoon and they both came back quiet but content. When he entered the hospital on the third morning however, he knew that something was different.
“It wasn’t a good night,” the nurse said, “Dr Clarkson has given her as much as he dares but he fears she wont wake up again.” Charles nodded, aware that he brutalising the hat in his hands. He could see that she was still in pain even if she was not awake, the frown lines drawing her brows together. He sat there longer than he had intended, and when he stood it was because he knew she was no longer there.
Things were different then, when the shock passed and the numbness set in. Routines changed and so did everything else. When His Lordship had summoned Carson to the library the day after the funeral it was to share news that Charles realised should not have come as such a great shock to him as it did. Downton was to be sold, Lady Mary and Mr Mathew would be setting out on their own and presumably taking Anna with them. Lady Edith had already moved in with her new husband and it seemed that he, Mrs Patmore and Miss O’Brien were likely to be the only ones kept on at the new house. Not long ago he was certain the news would have devastated him; the Earl and Countess of Grantham living in what amounted to a town house, but now, now it seemed almost a relief. He wasn’t certain he could have stayed here, where every which way he turned reminded him of a smile, a laugh or a frown.
“Obviously I’ll understand if you wish to find a new employer, perhaps whoever buys the house will…”
“That will not be necessary, Your Lordship. I think a change of scenery might suit me well at present.” Lord Grantham raised his eyes from his whiskey glass and they held one another’s gaze for some time.
“I think I understand that.”
“I only wish I did,” Carson said, more to himself than the other. “Is there anything else you need, Your Lordship?” he asked returning once more to familiar territory.
“Not for now thank you,” the other man replied, “not for now, thank you Carson.”
A/N: I struggled with where to end this, as there were several points where I thought I was done only to discover I wasn't. As ever I apreciate your thoughts...
As before SPOILERS for Seasn 3 Episode 2 and perhaps the trailers for Episode 3 BUT not in the same universe as As Simple As Money
Title: When Numbness Sets In
Rating: PG
Pairings: Nothing very overt
From Carson's POV
They were doing all right to begin with, once the initial shock had worn off and the numbness had set in. The routine below stairs was adapted a little, as much as Elsie would allow it to be and they carried on as they always had. Things were, he had been informed, ‘progressing slowly’ and so once this new routine was agreed things seemed to return to a strange sort of normality. He knew however that this could not last forever, that however slowly things were developing that the end was inevitable.
On the morning when something first appeared to have changed, Elsie had arrived at the breakfast table late. For all that her complexion had not been it’s usual rose tinted hue for sometime, she had been positively grey this day, her countenance and expression stiff.
“Apologies for my tardiness, Mr Carson,” she offered, as he stood and she took her customary seat.
“Are you…?” he began but tailed off as the term ‘quite well’ no longer seemed appropriate.
“Well enough thank you, even if everything is taking a little longer this morning than I would like.” And with that she turned to Anna, dismissing the matter as complete. He was not the only one to note that she ate little however, or that as the day wore on the pinched lines around her eyes grew more severe. At four o’clock he found himself being ushered into the kitchen immediately upon his return from upstairs.
“Tea,” Mrs Patmore said placing a teapot on the tray she was setting, “And scones, today’s mind and the last of the rhubarb preserve. That might take her fancy when nowt else has,” she said, looking at him pointedly.
“Is…”
“In her sitting room this last half hour,” the other woman said lifting the now laden tray and handing it to him, “the doctor said there would be good days and bad..” His jaw clenched of it’s own accord but he nodded none the less.
Knocking on the door, he waited for her to bid him entrance before he turned the handle and stepped in.
“Mr Carson,” she greeted him from her desk, “what…?”
“Afternoon tea, Mrs Hughes,” he said lightly, finding a spot on the table for the tray, “I thought we might share it you’re not apposed?” She looked at him directly and raised an eyebrow, she knew exactly what his intentions were.
“We’ll I suppose you had better take a seat then, and I’ll pour.” It was a typical acquiescence but he was far from convinced. She rose slowly from her seat, a distinct flash of pain crossing her face before she seemed to breath through it and move around the desk. She tried to distract him with a question about the wine cellar but when she bent to lift the pot he couldn’t help but be drawn to her sharp inhale.
“Mrs Hughes?” he asked, standing again and stepping forward to where she was stood over the table, a hand leaning against the wood and the other at her back.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, her eyes closed and breathing shallow. “It’s nothing really.”
“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not entirely convinced,” he replied shortly. “Let me at least help,” he continued. He knew it must be bad, he could see it in the set of her jaw and the tremble of her lip.
“It’ll pass,” she managed after a moment.
“Let’s get you seated,” he urged, stepping closer again and with a hand as gentle as he could make it on her waist and the other at her elbow, he guided her to the softer cushions of the small settee. Once she was settled, he turned to the tea tray partly out of desire to give her a little space and partly to give himself something he might focus on. By the time he had poured tea and spread jam upon one of the still warm scones, it seemed that she had gathered herself a little even if he’d had little success.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed over the cup and saucer but declined the plate with the scone. He didn’t push the matter for the time being. Instead, he pulled one of the high backed chairs away from the wall and set it facing the settee.
“Is this…” he tried after a minute of silence, “is it expected?”
“I would think it must have something to do with the cancer, yes,” she said dryly.
“Is it… Has it been…That is to say…”
“I find that I am developing some new aches and pains,” she said once she had found the words, “some of which I can only describe as bone deep and seem to be preventing me from getting comfortable today.”
“Have you seen Dr Clarkson?”
“I’m not due to see him for another two weeks.” she said wearily.
“But surely,”
“It was to get worse one way or another Mr Carson, and my end will come whichever way it goes.”
“But surely, if you are in so much pain and..” he pushed through her protest, “there is little point arguing that you are not, there will be something that could be done.” He did not wilt under her glare but the watery smile that she eventually graced him with was almost enough to break him.
“As enjoyable as this interlude has been,” she said some time later, “I’m quite positive that we both have work to be getting on with.”
“There’s no need for you to,” he began.
“There’s every need,” she countered as she took a deep breath and eased upright with a hiss, “especially if I am to see Dr Clarkson this week after all.”
“Tomorrow,” he reiterated, standing to offer her any assistance she might accept.
“If he can spare the time,” she rebuffed. She had reached the edge of the seat but had stalled. “Just a moment,” she breathed as he lent to offer her aid. When she did make a move to stand however it was cut short by gasp she couldn’t quite suppress and he quickly helped lower her back down. Her breathing was so rapid now as to concern him, as did the moisture on her brow and the trembling that wracked her limbs.
“Elsie?” he asked, finding himself on his knees beside her.
“Ju… Just a moment…”
“Rest there, I’ll send for the doctor,” he said rising back to his feet.
“I… No… I… It’ll pass…”
“I am sending for Dr Clarkson and that is an end to the matter,” Charles declared suddenly finding himself almost angry with her. He crossed the room quickly and pulled open the door with more force than was necessary. “Mrs Patmore,” he called turning towards the kitchen, “would you be good enough,” he continued his tone much softer now, “to step into Mrs Hughes’ sitting room while I call for Dr Clarkson?” She watched him as she dried her hands, but didn’t question him before draping her cloth across the back of the chair and doing as he requested.
“There’s little room for doubt. It’s in her bones,” Dr Clarkson said, accepting the cup he was offered, “It's not the nicest way to go by any stretch but I’ll do what I can to make her comfortable.”
“Is there anything else we can do?” Lady Cora asked.
“It really is a question of keeping the pain manageable now I’m afraid. If she’s lucky it wont be long.” The teacup in Charles’ hand shook as he offered it to His Lordship. The Earl accepted it with no more than an understanding glance in his direction before turning back to the doctor.
“Should we be considering… will it be necessary for her to be moved to the hospital?”
“It may be helpful at some stage but I don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet. Mrs Hughes is determined,” he hovered over the word and the room shared an knowing moment, “that she’ll only take what relief she must to function for now but though I admire her dedication I can’t see that lasting for long.”
“Well, Mr Carson, the two of us shall just have to make sure she doesn’t over do it now, won’t we?”
“Your Ladyship,” he inclined his head in agreement, though how they would go about it he had no idea.
“Then it will just be a question of time,” Lord Grantham said absently, before lifting his teacup, “you’ll see that she has everything she requires and that there’s a bed for her if needed.”
“Of course, Your Lordship,” the doctor agreed.
As it happened, they managed to put off such a necessity for almost a month but it cost them all to admit that the time had come when it could no longer continue and Elsie more than most. Despite Mrs Patmore’s bets efforts she was as thin as a rail, and though Anna and Miss O’Brien had stepped up to the mark without so much as a word of complaint, it had gotten to the point where there were very few of her old duties she could fulfil without assistance.
“It has reached the point, Mr Carson,” she said one afternoon, “where I am more work than I am help and I fear that it won’t be long before I’m no help at all.” He had thought to contradict this but he could see just how weary she was beneath the façade, as well as the resolution in her eyes.
“I…” he began, but she reached across and placed a hand upon his own much larger ones.
“I have already discussed it with Dr Clarkson and I am to go to the hospital tomorrow.”
“Of course…” he began but not knowing what else to say he trailed off.
“I thought I might walk.” This statement not only startled him for coming after several moments of silence but the words itself caught him out. Energy conservation had become so essential as to become the central focus of her daily routine so that somehow the idea of her walking to the hospital was strange to say the least.
“Pardon?” he asked, quite certain that he must have misheard.
“I thought I might walk down to the village, if you would be so good as to walk with me?”
“Of course,” he agreed, “but you need not…” She smiled at him and he stopped midway.
“I know I don’t need to, but I thought I would like to. It is not far and I would like to see the path one last time, to be able to turn back and look at Downton as I leave.”
“Then that is what we will do, Mrs Hughes,” he declared, falling back on old and familiar patterns.
“Good, now if you don’t mind, I think I might rest my eyes until it’s time for more of that infernal medication.”
“Of course not,” he said biding farewell and taking his leave.
The left when the downstairs was almost empty and those who were still there were caught in their own tasks. It was a slow pace they set and she held on to his arm with far stronger a grip than she had in the past but still, Charles was almost able to convince himself that it was one of their rare joint excursions to the village.
“They will be angry with me a fear, for letting you slip away,” he said over the sound of footfalls on the gravel.
“I don’t think I could have borne it, tears in the pantry. Beside I may have weeks of bedridden boredom which I will need relieved from and I needed to make sure someone has cause to visit me.” He couldn’t bring himself to comment on this.
They were just crossing the driveway when the front door opened and His Lordship appeared, crossing towards them without a care for decorum.
“Cora, that is Lady Cora, said you had seen her this morning,” he began breathlessly. “I had hoped that…” he trailed off and Charles sympathised with his lack of words. “I wanted to say… Thank you,” he settled on, taking her by the upper arms and kissing her gently on the cheek.
“It has been a pleasure, Your Lordship,” her voice was steady but the emotion was clear.
“Well, Carson and Clarkson both have instructions to insure that you have everything you might need,” the Earl continued.
“I think my needs will be simple and short lived,” she replied with a soft smile and Charles felt his breath catch in his chest at the turn of phrase, “but I appreciate your continuing generosity.”
“Well,” the other man said obviously at a loss.
“We had better be getting on, Your Lordship,” Charles said, excusing them as well as he might.
“Fare well, then and God bless,”
“Your Lordship,” she inclined her head and he did the same as they turned back to their path. He stayed until she was settled, until she dismissed him back to the house as though their staff would not be well able to handle things any longer and while he would have stayed she was asleep before he had left the door.
There was a quiet upstairs and down, that pervaded everything over the following days. Mrs Patmore went down to the village the following morning and Anna in the afternoon and they both came back quiet but content. When he entered the hospital on the third morning however, he knew that something was different.
“It wasn’t a good night,” the nurse said, “Dr Clarkson has given her as much as he dares but he fears she wont wake up again.” Charles nodded, aware that he brutalising the hat in his hands. He could see that she was still in pain even if she was not awake, the frown lines drawing her brows together. He sat there longer than he had intended, and when he stood it was because he knew she was no longer there.
Things were different then, when the shock passed and the numbness set in. Routines changed and so did everything else. When His Lordship had summoned Carson to the library the day after the funeral it was to share news that Charles realised should not have come as such a great shock to him as it did. Downton was to be sold, Lady Mary and Mr Mathew would be setting out on their own and presumably taking Anna with them. Lady Edith had already moved in with her new husband and it seemed that he, Mrs Patmore and Miss O’Brien were likely to be the only ones kept on at the new house. Not long ago he was certain the news would have devastated him; the Earl and Countess of Grantham living in what amounted to a town house, but now, now it seemed almost a relief. He wasn’t certain he could have stayed here, where every which way he turned reminded him of a smile, a laugh or a frown.
“Obviously I’ll understand if you wish to find a new employer, perhaps whoever buys the house will…”
“That will not be necessary, Your Lordship. I think a change of scenery might suit me well at present.” Lord Grantham raised his eyes from his whiskey glass and they held one another’s gaze for some time.
“I think I understand that.”
“I only wish I did,” Carson said, more to himself than the other. “Is there anything else you need, Your Lordship?” he asked returning once more to familiar territory.
“Not for now thank you,” the other man replied, “not for now, thank you Carson.”
A/N: I struggled with where to end this, as there were several points where I thought I was done only to discover I wasn't. As ever I apreciate your thoughts...