Fic - The War Comes to Downton Abbey, Chapter 10
Rating - Teenage
Fandom - Downton Abbey, Mary and Matthew and all the main series 1 characters.
Summary - As the First World War rages on, the lives of those at Downton Abbey will be forever changed. What happens to those left behind at the great estate?
Genre - Romance/Angst
Status - Work in Progress, Chapter 10 of 30?
Word Count - 3,117 words
Previous Chapters - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 and Chapter 9.
NB - I started writing and planning this a while before the series 2 spoilers came out. Therefore, this is already set AU, though it was originally intended as a possible series 2 story arc. I hope you take this into account whilst reading and that, even though it's now proved to be AU, it still feels like a realistic and plausible possibility for the second series of the show.
Chapter 10
The shouts and screams that were echoing around his ears were making it hard for him to concentrate. The almost melodic booming of the continual gunfire and explosions were drowning out his thoughts and the sound of his voice as he shouted commands at his men. Over all this cacophonous noise though, he suddenly recognised one voice, one shout for help and he immediately stopped. He looked around, trying to find the source of the voice, but he couldn’t see anything. With an ineffectual shout and a much more successful hand single to his men to stay where they were, he turned towards the sound. The mud oozing between his boots made walking difficult and with very careful footsteps and much slipping, he made his way towards the voice. The rain pouring down was washing mud into his eyes, making it difficult to see and more than once did he slip or trip over a body that was lying beneath him. He didn’t look down though, he’d learned by now to stay focused and not seek out the face of the poor soldier below, not when no sound could be heard and the body was unmoveable beneath him. He scrambled up quickly, trying to negotiate his way towards the familiar voice that was crystal clear amongst the sounds of so much damage and destruction, so much pain and suffering.
When he approached the voice, he saw the soldier lying wounded on the ground, his leg caught beneath another body, a dead weight which the injured soldier was unable to move. He called out to the soldier, who looked up and almost smiled as he saw the familiar face. He quickened his pace now and just about managed not to fall again in the mud as he reached the soldier. With his words somewhat lost to the perpetual gunfire and shouts and screams that surrounded him, he tried to give some encouragement to the injured soldier. He quickly pushed the dead body away, the injured soldier fruitlessly trying to help him. As he looked down, he saw that the soldier’s leg was broken and he would not be able to walk. Without a second thought, and ignoring the sudden protests from the soldier, he leant down and slipped his arms under him. As gently as he could, whilst trying not to slip in the mud, he helped the soldier up, supporting him as best he could as the soldier was too tall and heavy for him to carry. He heard the man cry out in pain as he tried to put weight on his broken leg and it was with little progress that they began walking back to the trenches, hobbling through the thickening quagmire of mud and broken bodies.
Something suddenly flew past their heads and the two soldiers watched its progress as fear slowly began to fill their hearts and terror began to take over their minds. They saw it arc through the grey sky and land a few feet away from them, just where the injured soldier had been lying a few moments ago. They’d seen many of them before of course, even hurled several of them over the trenches themselves, but never had a live one been so close to their feet before. As the world suddenly went into slow motion, he knew he had to run, that he had just a few seconds of time remaining before his life shattered into oblivion. His thoughts suddenly clicked into complete clarity and as adrenaline surged through him, he acted on impulse, without thinking or feeling as all emotions and sensations became shut down. The soldier he was supporting tried to push him away, tried to free himself so that he was no longer a burden, but he wouldn’t let him. Instead, he pushed the soldier around in front of him, away from the fallen grenade and used his own body as a shield to protect the soldier. Then, with all the strength and energy he could muster, he threw himself and the soldier forward, away from the grenade that lay so close, for a moment seeming so harmless, so innocent, just lying there.
Then the earth shattering boom of the detonating grenade filled his heart and soul and reached every fibre of his being. The shock wave of the explosion propelled them both further forward and, after what felt like an eternity of being hurtled through the air like a fallen leaf caught in an autumn gale, he eventually landed on the suddenly unyielding and firm ground. He tried his best not to crush the injured soldier beneath him as the impact sent another shockwave through him, reverberating through his body and jarring every single bone and muscle. Keeping his head down, he did his best to cover the body of the injured soldier as the shrapnel from the explosion cascaded down around them.
Then, all fell suddenly so still, so quiet and motionless after the devastation and destruction of the exploding grenade. In those few moments, all felt peaceful and safe and he looked down at the soldier beneath him, saw him breathing and knew he was still alive, though it appeared that the impact had knocked him unconscious
Slowly then feelings, sensations and emotions started flooding back, breaking down the walls his mind had automatically erected in the face of danger. He slowly became aware of the deafening sound of his pounding heart and heavy breathing and the shouts and screams of the continuing battle around him. As the adrenaline that had cursed through him began to dissipate, it was replaced with a searing, blinding pain. Every single ounce of his being started to cry out with it and it ricocheted through his mind, increasing in intensity with every heartbeat. He tried to move away from the unconscious soldier, but he was unable to, the pain freezing his body in place so it could hardly move. He just about managed to roll off the soldier and onto his side in the mud. He felt his face starting to sink into it then and he tasted the acrid earth on his tongue. As the pain continued to torment him, his vision started blurring, his hearing became fuzzy and he started to sink down into the blackness and into the suffocating, choking mud. He tried desperately to cling to reality, to not let himself become consumed by the darkness and the pain, but it was futile. As his mind rushed through all the memories of his life, one word became crystal clear in the darkness, one word sprang from his lips. He heard himself shout it out, distantly heard it echo around the battlefield, louder than any gunshot or grenade, before the blackness and the suffocating mud claimed him and he sank into oblivion. “Mary!”
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As the blackness continued to consume him, a few sensations would sometimes work their way into the edge of his subconscious. He’d suddenly become aware of distant sounds, lights and movements around him, disjointed sensations that fell like jigsaw pieces through his starved mind. As he tried to put the pieces together, to grasp onto the sensations and understand them, they would slip away and leave him with nothing but blackness once again. There were times he thought he heard voices, military, authoritative voices, issuing orders above him. He thought he felt movement, felt himself lifted up and carried, but it was all so distant, so difficult to clarify in his mind. He would almost have thought it was a dream, except it was accompanied by pain. A pain like he never knew was possible, a pain that would soon start whenever any awareness broke through into the blackness. The pain would rush through his body and shatter his mind, pushing him yet again into the darkness, where he often found relief. At least in the darkness there was no pain.
He could not be aware of how much time was passing then, what was happening to him or where he was, but after a while the nature of the blackness shifted. Before it had been empty, a black void of nothingness; no feelings, thoughts or emotions, nothing save the disjointed sensations that sometimes filtered through into his subconscious and confused him. Slowly though, the confusions started to take hold, they began to find weight and foundation. The doubts and unanswered questions about what was happening to him began plaguing him, tormenting him. They followed him down into the blackness and gave him no peace. He found himself challenging his own sanity, the sensations around him so disjointed and incoherent he had nothing to hold onto. The rational part of his mind, that was growing ever smaller and distant now, knew he was at the beginnings of madness. Although it was unknown to him, the fever that had invaded his body had also started invading his mind. It twisted his thoughts, splitting his consciousness and plunging him to the brink of despair and anguish. It took over every rational part of his being and even the searing pain that still agonised his body was pushed out. Occasionally though, the pain would overwhelm him and he’d distantly hear himself cry out in agony. The pain that was spreading through his haunted mind giving him a sort of relief from the madness, a fleeting sense of his own self once more. The madness would soon find him again though, torment him and drag him down into terror, trying to convince him to give in, to stop fighting. He wanted to give in, to let the madness fully take hold and leave him in peace, to let himself slip away from the torture and from reality.
Something was stopping him though; something was holding him to this world, to this life. At first his fever ridden mind couldn’t make it out, couldn’t grasp it, but it slowly grew, becoming more distinct. It became a voice, a crystal clear voice in the sea of his madness and pain. A voice he recognised, a voice that had haunted his dreams since the first day he had met her. It called his name, pleaded with him, begged him to come back and not leave her. It was a voice he couldn’t resist, he’d never been able to, and it pulled him up, through the layers of madness and pain, through the suffering and turmoil, growing louder and louder. He became aware of her touch too, her closeness and warmth and it helped give him the strength to fight the madness, to find the will to live. As he let himself focus on her voice, her touch, he felt the madness start to lose its hold. It was still there, trying to torment him, but it had lost its potency. It then began to dissipate, slowly leaving him be to slip away back into the blackness once more. It was peaceful this time though, safe, and it was accompanied by the feeling of his beloved Mary so close to him. She was the last thing he remembered, the last memory of his ordeal, before it all shattered and fell away, lost in the distance as the blackness took him away.
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Once again the blackness consumed him and thoughts and sensations slowly teased his mind as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Like rainwater falling through cracks, they would percolate through into his mind, piercing the blackness and startling him back into what he thought was reality, though it was so distant, so faded, he couldn’t be sure. The voices he heard this time were warm, familiar and they played on the edge of his consciousness, teasing him with memories he couldn’t quite reach. He felt people beside him, two women especially who were incredibly dear to him, tenderly holding his hands, but he couldn’t quite place them. Sometimes he felt his eyes open and he was rewarded with a blindingly beautiful vision. He saw an angel before him, her face painfully exquisite as it glowed bright, the sunlight playing around her hair like a halo. He recognised this beautiful vision before him, her name was on the tip of his tongue, but always the blackness would close in around him before he could quite grasp it, the weakness taking over his body and pushing him back into sleep.
He sometimes wondered if it was all a vivid dream or perhaps he had somehow left this world and found his way to heaven. When the angel filled his vision, he might have been convinced he had, but the pain was still there, it simmered and seared in the background, tormenting him. People weren’t supposed to feel such pain in heaven, nor dreams. Pain like he’d never known before. It felt so strong, so real and only the beautiful sight of his angel leaning over him made it bearable. Once he even felt her touch, felt her fingertips gently caressing his face, his lips, her touch reminiscent of a lover. He’d looked into her eyes then too, saw such love and concern there that it nearly broke his heart. He wanted to gaze upon her face forever, to etch it into his very soul, but the blackness consumed him again, shattering the memory like a dream upon waking.
When he next opened his eyes, everything felt distinctly different, clearer somehow, brighter. He looked up and straight into the eyes of his beloved angel. He recognised her then, the sudden influx of memories taking his breath away as he looked into her strikingly beautiful face. It was shining golden in the early morning sunlight, the luminescent radiance bouncing off her silken brown hair and dazzling him. For a moment he wondered if this hauntingly beautiful vision could be real, if it was really her. Mary, his beloved Mary, looking down with such awe and delight in her eyes, such deep and searing love. He spoke then, heard his croaky voice whisper her name. “Mary?” He asked, afraid to believe it was really her. He wanted to say so much then, to pour out his very soul to her, but he couldn’t find the words, find his voice. He tried to sit up, to move himself closer to her, but as the pain ripped through his body it forced him to remain still, his face grimacing in pain. Mary must have seen the sudden pain in his eyes, for she suddenly looked at him in concern, her face suddenly darkening to worry.
“Don’t move, Matthew,” she said, her voice like rich honey running through his soul, filling him with warmth and pushing out the pain.
“Mary?” He asked again, his voice still so weak it was little above a whisper. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, so many answers he needed, but he hardly dare believe she was real, hardly dare say or do anything in case he broke this glorious dream into pieces. If it was a dream, he wanted it to last forever, to see her looking down at him like that, to hear the sound of her voice. He felt her hand in his, felt the warmth emanating from her fingers, felt it begin surging through his veins, filling every fibre of his being with sunshine. It all felt so real, surely it couldn’t still be a dream? He reached up then, his arm heavy, painful, but he didn’t care. He lifted his hand towards her, reaching out and gently touching her face, running his fingers down her cheek, savouring every touch. Her skin burned, or perhaps it was his fingertips, for that moment Mary suddenly jumped, standing up and moving away from him. She looked scared then; frightened and panicked and he didn’t understand why.
“Mary?” He asked again, his voice questioning and more distinct now, less croaky as he shook off the last lingering doubts from his mind. He knew it was no dream now, that somehow, miraculously, Mary was standing there in front of him, her eyes darting about in fear. As the knowledge sank in, so did a thousand distant memories, suddenly rushing through his mind and causing him nothing but conflict and confusion. Memories of her voice, bringing him back from the brink of madness, from the edge of death; of his angel, her face glowing golden and her fingers touching his cheek, his lips; of her beautiful eyes and the look of deep concern and love he thought he’d seen there. They played about on the edge of his reason, teasing him of what might have been, of what could have happened. He didn’t know if they were real, he couldn’t be sure if they were part of this reality or part of the dream state he’d been lingering in for so long. All he knew was that he had woken today to find her holding his hand, that he had seen and felt something in her eyes and that now she was backing away from him, the distance between them growing in more ways than physical length. He could almost see her building walls around her heart and soul and it pained him in a way his injuries never could. The hand that had touched her cheek was still there, hanging in the air and reaching out towards her.
“Mary.” He said her name again, calling to her, trying to find a way through her defences and reason to the tender heart he knew beat within.
“I’ll… I’ll just go find your mother,” she answered, trying hard yet unsuccessfully, even to him, to make her voice measured and calm, her countenance strong and controlled.
Mother? The thought of his mother being here seemed almost as strange and miraculous as Mary. He watched her walk out of the room then, heard himself call her name one last time. His voice a plea this time, full of longing and confusion, willing her to stay, to not leave him, not now. It was too late though, for that moment she turned and almost fled out of the door, banging it shut behind her.
He tried to move forward then, the ludicrous thought that he could somehow run after her momentarily in his thoughts. The simmering pain, that he’d so far managed to push to the edge of his mind, suddenly rushed through him again, preventing him from moving further. The pain was nothing to him then though, barely a nuisance as all the hopes and dreams he scarcely allowed himself to acknowledge shattered to pieces around him. They merged with the sound of his breaking heart as he looked at the door Mary had just banged shut behind her.
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Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! More chapters are definitely on their way!