Downton Abbey 1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: I wanted to put together something that was Christmas theme so I'm going with my version of It's a Wonderful Life through the eyes of John Bates. I'm anticipating this will be three parts followed by an epilogue. Much like the movie the beginning will be angsty, so bear with me, I promise it will get better. Some spoilers for series 5. Thanks to a-lady-to-me, chisoxtam, and terriejane for helping me flesh this out and provide input/editing where it was needed. Hope you all enjoy. Please review :)**_

_**Part I**_

He hated this. Hated this place. Not only because his wife was had been locked away from him here, but because of all the memories it conjured up of his own time spent in prison. John Bates looked up at the stone wall structure with its iron bars over its impossibly small windows that hardly let in a shred of sunlight and he swallowed the bitter taste that had settled in his mouth. Once he was through the guarded doors the haunting screams and moans filled his ears and brain, a cruel reminder that he was often subjected to in his worst dreams.

And now his poor Anna was being subjected to this inhuman form of punishment for a crime she didn't commit, when she should be at home with him in the safety of his arms. John was about to see his wife for the third time since she had been carried away in handcuffs before his very eyes. She had been subjected to four weeks of isolation before John could even see her the first time; he was familiar with the process. With each visit she seemed to grow more hopeless and withdrawn. He reminded himself that the bright, young, beauty that was his wife might not look the same and to be grateful that he was allowed to see her at all. John had to remain hopeful for her sake; to be strong and find a way to get her out of here.

He took a seat alongside some of the other visitors at the bench of the table. John's hands toyed with the handle of his cane as he eagerly awaited her appearance. It was so surreal being on the other end of this table. He'd wondered if she'd been able to get any sleep since they'd been separated, John knew it seemed an odd thing to wish, but any escape from this environment was better than no escape. That would have been true years ago, except now he wondered if the screams in the cells were triggering her nightmares of Mr. Green again. That vile man was the source of his wife's discomfort. They had so many plans and dreams that had only drifted further away with Mr. Green's visit to the abbey over a year ago. John wished he had killed the man when he had the chance, if only to spare his beloved wife from experiencing this version of hell. He supposed the one good thing was that the men and women's prisons were separate; aside from the guards she didn't have to worry about being surrounded by strange men.

John heard the clank of the metal door as the lock was undone and all thoughts of Mr. Green were quickly pushed away. His eyes lit up in anticipation as he sought her face in a sea of colorless faces. John thought he would have been happy to see her, but when his eyes fell on her slight, withered frame that threatened to crumble in on itself, his face fell. This wasn't the Anna he fell in love with; it wasn't even the shadow of the Anna that had managed to survive what Mr. Green had put her through. She was dressed in a drab, grey prison-issued uniform that washed her out. The only thing that still reminded him of her former life was the way her hair was still perfectly plaited from years of practice. Her eyes look tired with bags under them. Her cheeks were sunken in, her hair had lost its golden sheen, and she looked more pale than he remembered. He found himself fearing that this would be the last time he would ever see her, worried that she might shrivel up before their next visit. Now he understood the pain she had gone through whenever she had come to see him at the prison every other week for just over a year. How had she managed to stay so strong and put on a smile for him? Whatever it was, he prayed to a God he didn't believe in to help him be the glimmer of hope she needed right now. He'd been doing a lot of praying lately. It seemed fruitless to John, but he was all out of answers and maybe what he needed was to have faith like Anna had.

John wasn't sure why but he half expected her face to light up when she saw him, but she didn't. Anna barely managed a smile and when she sat down with her hands in her lap he was all too painfully reminded why. No touching. He couldn't kiss her or hug her. John couldn't even caress her knee under the table like they normally would have in the servant's hall. Her lips trembled slightly when she finally looked up from the table and he saw tears welling up. She was barely holding it together and it was killing him, like a knife to the heart. He wasn't even sure what to say. John knew all too well that any form of weakness, especially tears would only lead to more trouble for her with other inmates once he was out of sight. Perhaps it was better to skip the pleasantries. He wouldn't spend time on small talk asking how she was faring when one look told him all he needed to know.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't see you sooner than today. Thomas was taken ill and I rather think that Mr. Carson didn't want Mr. Molesley to fill in as valet for fear he'd be asking for a promotion for the next few months. My train got in late yesterday and I missed visiting hours," John explained.

"I understand. It's not as if I had anything else to attend," she replied with a meager smile.

It was a poor attempt at humor, but John tried to smile back. She was doing this for him and it only tore him up even more. His beautiful wife was trapped behind bars and she was still looking out for him. Going out of her way to attempt to make him smile or at least comfort him the best she could; not wanting him to worry more than he already was. "I've been keeping in touch with Mr. Murray almost daily. He says there's a good chance this will never even go to trial since it's all circumstantial." As much as he wanted to believe that, John knew better than anyone about the pitfalls of the justice system. "I had another thought…"

The corner of her mouth quirked up, like the beginnings of a smile.

"You could tell them it was me…" he said.

She hadn't even allowed him to give a reason or explain how he would go about it. Her head shook in disagreement automatically. "No. No."

"Just hear me out...you wouldn't even have to tell them about…" he couldn't even say the words, but they both knew what he was referring to. "Everyone saw the way I got mad at you during the round of racing demon earlier that night," John said with regret. He wished he hadn't gotten so upset with her. Perhaps she wouldn't have gotten that headache, they wouldn't have gotten into their unspoken fight, and she wouldn't have gone downstairs to meet her inevitable fate. Like leading the lamb to the slaughter. "My jealousy would be motive enough," he tried to reason with her.

"No. Absolutely not," she said.

"But why?" he argued back in a low voice. Even though the idea of privacy in this room full of strangers was laughable, he wanted to make sure their conversation remained between the two of them.

"I've been in your shoes before John. It was too much to bear once before. I can't do it again. I may only face life in prison. They won't give you another chance. I won't watch you hang. They may as well string up a rope along side of yours," she insisted.

"Don't talk like that," he urged.

"Like what?" Anna asked, but she didn't give him time to answer. "Like I've given up. Don't you see, John? They wouldn't have held me this long if they didn't think they had a leg to stand on. Even if I got out of here do you really think everything would just go back to normal?" He stared at her almost frozen. "Every time I think the past is in the past and we can begin to move forward something bad happens. Maybe this is all we were meant for."

"What?" he asked in confusion. It scared him more than ever to hear her talking like this.

"We found our one great love in each other, however short it may have been," she said. Her voice wavered under the strain of emotion, but it didn't falter. "Maybe my purpose in life was to save you and show you that love is possible."

"And you have, my darling," he said with absolute certainty.

"But maybe that's all it is. In the time I have been here I've become more and more convinced that we were not meant to live happily ever after, John. There will be no fresh start at our hotel by the sea, or…" as much as it pained her to say it she wouldn't didn't see the point in avoiding it, "or children to surround us as we grow old and grey." Her head dropped and she could only stare at her lap as her body shook and she sobbed silently.

"We can still have that," he said in a comforting voice.

She only shook her head more adamantly. "No, John. We can't." Her voice took on a more forceful tone. "I was a fool to think there would ever be a break from this. Everything we share is shadowed," Anna said with conviction. "Who would want to stay at a hotel run by two formerly convicted murderers?" Anna cried harder, only now the tears were actually trickling down her cheek.

"Anna, love…" John realized then that he didn't know what to say. Even if he could promise that he'd get her out of here she had said the one thing he couldn't convince her of otherwise. That if she were freed they would live happily ever after. The last promise John had made to her he failed to keep. Thankfully the sound of the other cellmates and visitors chatter seemed to drown them out. No one paid her any mind.

He wanted so badly to reach out and touch her hand. His eyes drifted to her tiny hands that had always fascinated him, his gaze lingered on her naked wedding finger. John remembered how she had been so proud and adamant about wearing her wedding band while he was in prison. Even though he had worried that her wearing a ring would only lead to her being chided for marrying a murderer, she wore it like a badge of honor. And now she had been stripped of her most valued possession; a symbol of all they had fought for and all that she tried to protect.

John gave her a few minutes to collect herself. She asked about the state of things at the abbey; desperate for something normal to talk about. He remembered the feeling all too well. But he didn't want to talk about the abbey or himself, his sole concern was for her welfare. That didn't stop her from touting him for not eating enough or getting enough sleep. He simply argued he couldn't sleep without her by his side. They made idle chit chat for the next half hour, but eventually they ran out of things to talk of that didn't depress her.

"I'm so sorry-sorry I failed you. I wish I could spare you of this-all of it- I could have prevented it. What a poor excuse of a husband you have." John's voice shook with anger and sadness. John didn't know such a pain like this existed, not even when he thought she had left him because she no longer loved him or when he found out what she had endured and how she tried to save him from himself. He wasn't even sure he would be able to walk away from her at the end of this visit without the guards hauling him away.

"There is nothing you could do. Nothing you can do. It would have happened no matter what," she replied back in a monotonous voice. Her eyes were staring off at the bit of light that was peeking in through the iron bars that covered the window. She seemed so far away for a brief moment.

"Anna...we don't have much time. I am hoping to have you out of here as soon as possible but if not I'll come visit you on my next half day. I'll write you every day for as long as it takes." Another fortnight without her. As if the several weeks hadn't been bad enough. "I love you. I need you to know that. I won't fail you this time." She was nodding along but she didn't seem to be listening. "My darling... did you hear me? I love you more than life itself." His eyes were almost reaching out to her; holding her in the highest regard and transferring every ounce of love and strength he could with a simple look.

"Time!" a guard called out from behind him.

John's eyes winced shut. It had all gone by so fast. Their moment of time gone in a flash. It would have to be enough to get them through another fortnight.

As she was led out of the visiting area he told her he loved her over and over. Until she was out of sight. Anna said it back once but after that she could only wipe the tears from her eyes. The metal clacked against the wall as the door that led to the cells was shut, emphasizing the finality of their visit.

* * *

He reluctantly left the prison and kept his eyes trained on the castle like structure as he pulled away from the train station. It felt wrong leaving her like this. He was grateful that no one wanted to chat with him on the train after the conductor had come by to tear his ticket. And the same could be said for his long walk home from the station. The village was already decorated for Christmas, a holiday that had been a long time favorite for Anna, even though they usually spent it working. It dawned on him then that if she wasn't out soon he wouldn't get to spend Christmas morning with her this year. Another stolen moment. He let out a heavy sigh and shuffled along through the thin layer of snow that had settled on the ground around his feet.

Once John arrived at the abbey he made a beeline for the stairs, hoping that Mrs. Hughes wouldn't spot him. Surely she would want to speak to him about Anna's condition, a thought that made his stomach recoil. As much as he loved the housekeeper and knew what a pillar of strength she had been to his wife during her darkest hour, John was emotionally exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lay down in his room before having to go dress his Lordship for dinner.

John made it to his old room in the men's quarters unseen. He quickly shut the door behind him and let out a heavy sigh. It hadn't taken him long to make a request to take up a space in his old bed if only to escape the living memorial that had become their cottage. Everything there reminded him of Anna. The abbey did too of course, but it seemed harder sleeping in a bed that was built for two without her by his side to keep him warm through the night.

John hooked his cane on the back of the chair and sat at the tiny desk and took the weight off his leg by sitting down. His hand ran along the seam of his lapel before stopping just over his heart. The outline of the object within his jacket pocket was all too familiar and satisfying. He let his hands disappear into the pocket that lined the inside of his jacket and withdrew the item. It was a small flask filled with alcohol. John had made the purchase shortly after stepping off the train while he was in the village. He could almost feel the amber liquid sloshing around with every step he took on his way back. Without even removing the cap he was reminded of the thick, calming fragrance that had filled many a drunken night in his past. John simply turned the flask over and over in his hand, knowing how disappointed Anna would be to see him so easily giving in to temptation in her absence when she had been strong for him. But this was different. She was stronger than him. She always had been.

John tried to remind himself that he had quit alcohol before ever meeting her, that he had been able to stay sober on his own long before. Perhaps he wasn't as weak willed as he thought himself to be. But as bits and pieces of his life came back to him in flashes; each one like a bullet fragment tearing through his heart it occurred to him that maybe he hadn't changed much at all. Looking at that flask with disdain all John could see was the man he was before he met Anna. A son of a drunk and abusive father, a disappointment to his mother, a cripple, a poor excuse for a husband. He couldn't even keep his wife from crawling into other soldier's beds when he wasn't stationed in Africa. A disgrace to her Majesty's Army for taking the wrap on stealing some silverware.

And then there was the man he was after he met Anna. He had left things such a mess with Vera that he had nearly brought shame upon Anna and her reputation. John had dragged her through the mud with his problems, made false promises of a future that he still had been unable to secure for her. He tainted her name by marrying her before being convicted of the murder of his ex-wife. As a free man he had yet to make her a mother. He couldn't even protect her from that monster. His wife had endured so much to keep him safe, to prevent him from blowing up, and forever tearing them apart. And why? She knew of his past, she knew of the man he once was and what he was capable of. What a fool he had been to think that he had been propping her up when all along he'd only been pulling her down. He stared at the flask with tears in his eyes and contemplated a swig, just one small one. But he knew where that would lead. No where he wanted to go again.

Suddenly a knock at the door startled him and shook John from his thoughts.

"Mr. Bates," a familiar voice called out.

It was Mrs. Hughes. John hid the flask under his pillow on the bed and wiped at his eyes. He took a second to collect himself and opened the door just enough to see the housekeeper's face. "Yes, can I help you?" he answered back.

"I was just wondering how everything went? How Anna is doing? And of course yourself?" she asked in her Scottish brogue.

"As well as it could as far as prison visits go. She's soldiering on. You know Anna," he said with a weak smile. As the words fell from his mouth John instantly wished he hadn't known Anna at all. Not for his sake, but for her own. The housekeeper eyed him with more concern than before. "You shouldn't waste any time worrying about me. Nobody else does. Well, no one except, Anna." And that was just it. Sometimes he felt that his amazing wife spent more time cleaning up after him that she was missing out on the life she deserved.

"That's not true Mr. Bates. You have many people that care for you here," she urged.

"People care for Anna. They only ask about me because I am lucky enough to call myself her husband. But the truth is I've failed her."

Mrs. Hughes looked back at him with kind eyes, "Remember Mr. Bates, no man is a failure who has friends. The both of you are very highly valued."

"I thank you for that Mrs. Hughes. I think I just need a moment to myself to get relaxed before this evening's activities.

"Actually that's what I came here to talk to you about. Mr. Carson and I feel that you should take the evening off. Thomas will cover for you this evening," she said.

"Thomas?" he asked back.

"At his insistence. Thomas volunteered if you can believe that," she said.

"I don't, but please let him know it's much appreciated and completely unnecessary. I will be down to complete my duties as usual. It's better than just sitting around thinking of Anna," he said.

"If that's what you want," Mrs. Hughes said.

"It is," he replied. John began to shut the door and Mrs. Hughes headed off down the hallway.

John stared back at the flask hanging out below his pillow. He ignored it and went back to his desk. He removed some paper and a pen and began attempting a letter to Anna but the words wouldn't come. Nothing he could think of could possibly make this better or ease her burden. Apologies would do no good and he was sure she was tired of hearing them.

Then it dawned on him. An idea that had once before settled itself in his brain, never fully letting go or disappearing. Only to be used in cases of extreme circumstances. Ironic though, that the last time he ever considered it Anna was the one who found him. It was when he had first arrived at Downton and had been let go by Lord Grantham. He had reached the bottom of the barrel as he tried to console himself in the men's quarters and figure out what his next step would be. He tried to push the thought away but he couldn't help himself. It may not have been the solution he was looking for, but perhaps Anna was right. There wasn't an ending written in the stars where they ended up together. But there was a way he could save Anna. He could end it all. A life for a life. He would have to leave a note of some sort, confessing to the murder of Mr. Green, otherwise she'd be widowed and still left to rot in that dank cell. Atleast with her on the inside she couldn't talk him out of it, couldn't intervene. Anna would be so upset when she found out the reason for her release, but she'd be free. That was all that mattered to him. In time she might be able to let go of that anger, with the help of Mrs. Hughes and Lady Mary of course. Maybe she'd even be able to find someone else to love that could give her all the things he couldn't. As much as it pained him to think it, it only pained him more to watch her decline.

Before John could think about it a moment longer, he pulled out a photo of her. It was the same one he'd had of her to get him through his prison sentence. One that she had surprised him with after a trip to Ripon. It was frayed around the edges and the sharpness of the image had faded from being stuffed in and out of his pocket but he could still see her clear as day. She looked so sweet and innocent then, but that hadn't stopped her from offering to turn her back on everyone and everything she loved to run away with him and be his mistress. Even when he was behind bars she never stopped dreaming of a brighter future with him. How naive she had been, thinking he was the answer to all her problems when really he was the key to her undoing. He should have been stronger and rebuffed her. She had just begun to come out of her shell again, not the same Anna he had fallen in love with all those years ago, but similar. Certainly an Anna he loved just as much, if not more. And now it was all wrecked. Months of work to help build her confidence again and teach her to love herself, for nothing. She was right it had all been for nothing.

John cried like a baby, harder than he ever had after his mother's death or during his own imprisonment. "It's my fault...everything she has suffered has been my fault," he said through tears. His eyes were glossed over with tears, blurring his vision. John wiped them away with his sleeve but they wouldn't stop coming. "I wish I'd never come here...She'd be better off without me. The world would have been better off without me," he cursed under his breath. John's hand shoved the few items that covered his desk off of the hardwood surface in a rage. The contents came crashing to the floor but it made no difference, there was no one upstairs to hear it. John let his head fall in defeat against his hands as he cried some more. "I suppose it'd been better if I'd never been born at all," he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: You've all been so great with your wonderful reviews. I wish I had time to thank you all individually, but this will have to do for now. I'm anticipating two more chapters before Christmas arrives. There were some references in this chapter to John's connection with Molesley prior to his time at Downton, and a conversation he had with William that didn't make it onscreen. Both of which were explained in the script books. Thanks to a-lady-to-me, chisoxtam, and terriejane for helping me flesh this out and provide input/editing where it was needed. Hope you all enjoy. Please review :)**_

_**Part II**_

John wasn't sure how long he had been crying but he felt a warmth wash over him that had been absent since Anna had been taken from him. A glow took over the room and a voice that he hadn't heard in years began calling him in a familiar Irish lilt, "Johnny." He still had his head buried in his crossed arms, laying his upper body against the desk. His eyes peeked out a bit to see where the sound was coming from and he noticed the glow had disappeared. John lifted his head from his desk and wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

"John, m'boy," the voice said a little more clearly this time.

It couldn't be. John's head shook in disbelief as the vision became clearer and he saw his mother standing before him. He nearly fell out of his chair. "Mum? Wha-I mean how? What are you doing here?" he asked. One question after another came stumbling out.

She looked just as he remembered her when he was a boy. Her dark brown hair pinned back in a bun, her eyes a deep green like his and still emanating warmth and kindness. The corners of her eyes crinkled just like his. The skin on her hands were paper thin and they looked worn from years of hard labor. "I'm your guardian angel, John. I've come to help you; to show you that your life has worth. That you mean something to a great deal of people," she explained.

John was in shock to see the corporeal being speaking back to him, but in that moment he was so desperate for answers that it hadn't occurred to him question his sanity. "How can you say that? When everything I have done has only led to more pain and sorrow for all those I have come into contact with. Especially Anna. Oh my darling Anna. She has paid more than anyone for my sins-past and present-and that includes me.

"That she has John. And while it may be hard for you to see it or even understand, you must realize that you nor she are to blame. You have enriched Anna's life just as equally as she has yours," Margaret replied as she extended a hand out to place on John's shoulder. Her hand merely travelled through him. "You were always so quick to take the blame for others. A righteous and honorable man if ever there was one, even before Anna came along."

John couldn't help but let off a scoff at her words.

"Life has not been kind to you m'boy. To either of you. And I'm so sorry that fate has seen fit to play out the way it has. But you mustn't give up now. Not when Anna needs you the most."

"But I'm all alone. I don't even know how to go on without her," he replied desperately.

"Well, you have your friends. They'll see you through it," she gently reminded him.

"No, I don't. I have no one," he insisted.

"John, I know you are troubled and that right now things may seem bleak, but I can assure you the world would not be better off without you. Least of all, Anna," she said.

"I very highly doubt that," John said. "In fact, I'm doubting this conversation is even taking place right now. Perhaps I drank more of that alcohol than I recall and this is all a dream or maybe I finally went through with it and ended it all like I intended to spare Anna."

"No, it hasn't come to that just yet. I wouldn't let you leave this world without a fight," she added with a gentle smile.

It was a smile he missed so dearly he nearly burst into tears at the sight of it. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"John, I may be dead but I'm still your mother and I can read you like a book. I know what you were contemplating earlier," she replied with a look of disappointment.

John hung his head in shame. "I know it's not right...but I see no other way." John shook his head and the tears came down harder than before. "The only way I can save my wife's life is to sacrifice my own. I won't let her pay anymore for my failings. I meant what I said before. I wish I'd never been born."

"Very well then. If you won't believe me then perhaps you'll believe your own eyes when you see a world without John Bates," his mother said.

Within a blink of an eye John found himself outside in a place that looked familiar but altogether different. "How did you do that?" John asked Margaret.

"I told you I'm an angel," she insisted.

"I don't understand... where am I?" John inquired.

"At Downton, in the village of course. Don't you recognize it?" Margaret asked.

John had to look a little harder. The shapes were certainly familiar but this was not the Downton he had come to know and love. It seemed darker and bleaker somehow. Most of the shops had disappeared and the few that remained had different names displayed in the windows. Most of the farmland that bordered the village looked like it had disappeared in a drought of some sort. There was a small factory that seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere and filled the sky with smoke that threatened to blot out the sun. There wasn't the usual air of positivity and hope dancing on the breeze. The sun hung in the sky but it was hardly noticeable against the fog and dark clouds. "What happened to this place?"

"After Mr. Matthew died, the running of the property fell back into the hands of Lord Grantham. He never was much for running business or managing money for that matter. The village suffered as a result," his mother explained.

"But Mary and Tom...they set the estate on a path for success," he filled in.

"That was when you were alive, John," Margaret responded. "Lord Grantham is not the same man you fought side by side with in the war because you didn't go to war."

"But I did, I even have the injury and a medal to prove it," he argued.

"What injury John?" Margaret responded.

John shook his head in disbelief. He bent down with ease and began to roll up his pant leg and that was when it dawned on him that he hadn't been using his cane this whole time. In fact, he didn't have any pain at all in his knee like he normally would have. John continued to pull the pants back and saw that his leg was just as it was when he was a teenage boy. Not a single scar or scratch covered it, there was no gnarled skin or wounds left from shrapnel. He easily ran his hands along the places where the lines once were, years of tracing them with his fingertips had etched them into his memory. "Where did it go?" John asked.

"I told you, you didn't go to Africa and fight in the Boers in his Majesty's Army because you were never born. You never served as a batman to Robert Crawley and you never injured yourself saving his life," she revealed.

"But you said he was alive. So he didn't die in the Boers War?" John sought confirmation.

"Oh, he's very much alive. If you could call that living. He returned from war a bitter man with an injured leg and injured pride. He found solace in alcohol; not much different from yourself. Ashamed of his injury he often locked himself away behind closed doors at the Abbey."

"But surely he needed an heir still?"

"And he had one with Mr. Matthew. But he was more difficult than usual with Matthew. He fought the young man tooth and nail on every decision. Their relationship was strained. Your being gone couldn't change the course of Mr. Matthew's life."

"He still died," John said in a whisper.

"Mhmm," she confirmed with a nod of the head. "Anna and Lord Grantham were there to help pull Mary out of the shadows when you were alive."

"And without me?" he asked curiously.

"Without you here Anna wasn't as hopeful about the future and so she couldn't be hopeful about Lady Mary's either. Lord Grantham was all too happy to have control of the estate back and made one bad decision after another without his trusty valet to pull him out of the veil of shadows," she added.

"Surely, Mr. Molesley could have become Lord Grantham's valet with the passing of Mr. Matthew," John surmised.

"Oh, I don't believe so. Not when he's still trying to put his own life in order."

Looking around John could scarcely recognize a single face from the village. Suddenly his eyes fell upon a tall, gawky figure with a balding head hard at work mending the roads. "Mr. Molesley!" John called out as he began to walk towards him. The sensation was odd without his cane in hand or the altered gait of his step.

Joseph Molesley wiped his brow free of the sweat that accumulated there. His face was smeared with smudges of tar. He took a break from his labor heavy job to turn his head towards the figure ambling towards him.

"Mr. Molesley…" John said a little out of breath after having run for the first time in years. Or at least he thought it had been years. If what his mother said was true, had he never run at all? He wouldn't dwell on the specifics for now.

"Mr. Molesley is my father. Do I know you?" Mr. Molesley asked with a look of confusion.

"You should. It's me, John Bates. We've worked together at Downton Abbey for over ten years," John answered back.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken. While I did work at Downton Abbey I never worked with a John Bates."

"Sure you did. You worked with me and Anna."

"Well, I don't recall you, but I did work with an Anna Smith before."

"Yes, her. She's my wife…" John began to explain before he was quickly cut off by Mr. Molesley.

"You must be mistaken. She was never married."

"But she is...or was...," John said as he scratched his head. "I can prove it."

Joe crossed his hands on top of the handle of his shovel to steady himself. He listened intently.

"How else would I know that you loved her? Even went so far as to start a book club as an excuse to spend more time with her," John said.

Mr. Molesley's eyes went wide with surprise. "How did you know that?"

"I just told you," John said although he still couldn't full wrap his head around the concept that Mr. Molesley had no recollection of him ever having existed. "What are you doing mending roads?"

"I had no choice after Mr. Matthew died. There was no reason to keep me around as a valet and I never had much of a green thumb like my father. I suppose it's all for nothing, I owe money to nearly everyone in the village."

"But, I loaned you money to help you pay your debt. Well...technically it wasn't my money, but I got it from the Dowager," John filled in.

"I think I would have remembered getting money from someone to pay off my debts," Mr. Molesley replied.

"If you don't remember that then what about the time we spent as footmen together at a house near Staffordshire? It was before I volunteered to go to the South African War," John commented.

"Look, I don't know how you know all this, but you best be moving on Mr. Bates, if that's your real name."

Just then a supervisor screamed at Joe, "Get back to work, Mr. Molesley!"

Joseph wasted no more time and promptly began shoveling again. He turned his back to John and let his face hang in shame.

"This...this cannot be," John muttered to himself.

"But it is. You see without your intervention Mr. Molesley was never able to dig himself out of debt. He still lives with his father," Margaret explained.

"What about Miss Baxter? They seemed chummy," John commented.

"Phyllis never came to work at Downton because Thomas wasn't there to suggest she take Miss O'Brien's place," his mother said.

"Did Thomas die at war?" John asked.

"No. He returned just as you remember it, but when he acted upon his feelings for Jimmy you weren't there to intervene and help him keep his job. Between Jimmy and Alfred's insistence to involve the cops, Thomas was hauled off to spend time in prison for his crimes."

John was taken aback. His mouth hung wide open as he let reality sink in. "Then where is he now? I have to see him."

His mother pointed her finger to a lowly looking building at the end of the lane that John didn't recognize. He ran over towards the building and peeked in through the window that was covered in a layer of soot. John's eyes travelled back and forth to find the poorest group of people he had ever seen working on various jobs around the room. It looked to be a work house. John let himself inside and found Thomas in a corner attempting to keep warm by a fire and coughing from the moldy stench in the air. The former under butler worked diligently on darning a pair of trousers that had been torn.

"Mr. Barrow," John said as he stood before the pale, homely looking man sitting before him.

"No one has called me that since I first left the Army," Thomas responded. "Can I help you?" his response sounding broken as he set the trousers aside and picked up another set to work on.

"It's Thomas isn't it?" John asked, feigning ignorance.

"Who wants to know?" Thomas responded slowly as he rolled his eyes. But curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wasn't sure how he knew this man or how this man knew him, but he automatically found himself disliking him.

"Just curious," John replied. "You used to work at the Abbey didn't you?"

"How did you know that?" Thomas asked as he froze in place.

"Your reputation precedes you," John replied not wanting to invoke a similar response as Mr. Molesley's. He didn't say it with hate or a tinge of derision.

Thomas sat back in his chair for a moment and ran his hand along the length of his braces as he observed John for a moment. He didn't know this man or owe him anything, yet he couldn't help himself or this urge to open up to him and help him. No one had taken an interest in him before. Not genuinely anyway. The man before him looked like he could have just as easily gotten answers using brute force if he wanted to but instead he spoke to him with kindness and soft words. This was probably going against his better judgement but instead he chose to speak to this man without a name who seemed to know so much about him. "Yeah, that's what I get for trying to follow my heart I suppose. I let my guard down once and someone who I once considered a friend...er...rather an ally I suppose, betrayed me," Thomas said gruffly.

"Miss O'Brien," John stated more than asked.

Thomas nodded in agreement. "I can't confirm it, but I'm fairly certain she was the one the pushed Alfred and Jimmy to turn on me."

"Could you not find work elsewhere?" John asked sympathetically.

"I could have if it weren't for my criminal record. Well...that and my reputation," Thomas said sadly. "I made some professional decisions that comprised my ability to be discreet. When word got out and I couldn't get a reference, I couldn't even get a job with my cousin in Bombay. I had no choice but to turn to the workhouse."

Not for the first time, John felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach as he looked on at the shadow of a man.

"Why do you ask?" Thomas said with a tilt of the head before lighting up a cigarette.

"I was trying to find Ann...an old friend," John quickly corrected himself and lied. "Someone that used to work at Downton."

"Well, as I said, I haven't been there in sometime, but I can certainly try to help you," Thomas said. He couldn't understand why but he was warming to the man. Maybe it's because it was the first time someone asked him about his own life, but didn't show any judgement at his admission. "So…" Thomas said as he let out a slinky puff of smoke out of the corner of his mouth, "who are you looking for?"

"Anna Smith," John said a little too eagerly.

"Oh yeah, I remember her. It's hard to forget a girl like Anna. Sweet face, very kind. We weren't enemies, but she kept to herself so she wasn't much help to me," Thomas acknowledged. "I don't know what happened to her, but the one time I saw her in the village shortly after my release she didn't look the same."

"Didn't look the same how?" John asked. His whole body almost leaned forward with peeked interest.

"I don't know how to describe it really. Like all the light had been sucked out of her eyes. In fact she barely looked up at me and couldn't even manage a smile. At first I wasn't even sure it was her," Thomas reported.

John sat back, trying not to let his face portray his emotions. What could have happened to Anna that she would look that way? This wasn't what he had hoped to hear. John had thought that his absence would mean a secure future for Anna with a husband that could make her happy and a house full of children. John realized Thomas was still watching him carefully. "Thank you, Mr. Barrow. You've been most helpful. I hope you find the happiness you were looking for," John managed to say as he excused himself.

* * *

Nighttime was upon them. As John stood outside of the workhouse he walked back and forth in circles searching for answers and questioning his sanity. "This can't be. Thomas in a workhouse, Molesley mending roads. It's like the world has gone mad," John said aloud. His mother was standing behind him, seemingly unaffected by the snow that was falling down around them. "He said he saw Anna in the village even after he left. So she must still be in town," John assumed. "Maybe she fell in love with another servant," he guessed. But before he could give his mother a chance to answer John ran off in a sprint towards the Abbey, he turned off on the path that led to the lane of cottages that had once been their home.

John nearly lost his footing on a patch of ice as he approached the cottage that he had come to know and love. The lights weren't on inside, but he knocked on the door anyway. The knocks progressed to pounding despite his mother's protests until the door opened on its own. John went inside and found the cottage just as dilapidated as it had been when he and Anna had first come to see it right down to the mangled blanket and weathered settee. He felt a tear prick at the corner of his eyes as he was reminded of the way his beautiful Anna had laughed when they came tumbling down on that settee. The walls weren't painted anymore and the picture from their wedding wasn't sitting above the fireplace mantle. The tears silently slid down his cheek.

"What's the matter John? You look as though you are upset," his mother asked as she placed a hand on his back.

He turned to face her. "It's gone. All of it gone. The happy memories and the bad ones too," he said in a whisper. He was reminded of the times that Anna had been awakened by horrible nightmares from that night or the month that she had spent living at the Abbey. He looked to the center of the parlor where they had often spent nights in front of a roaring fire, huddled up under a warm blanket as they read to one another. Of course it was usually John that did the reading at Anna's insistence. She'd run her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp or massaging his knee as his recited poems from Robert Burns. He stared at the small stove in the corner of what was the kitchen and remembered the few times Anna had insisted she cook on their half day, even though Mrs. Patmore always had an extra plate of food available up at the Abbey. John's smile disappeared just as quickly as it bloomed across his face. "We were happy here. For a time. I miss her. I just want to make sure she's alright."

His mother began to speak but they were quickly interrupted by the sounds of one of the neighbors shining a lantern into the dark cottage. "Who's there?" the voice demanded with a cock of a gun.

John squinted his eyes, trying to discern a face in the shadows. He held his hands showing he meant no harm, "I'm John Bates. I'm just...I was trying to find the owners."

The gun was lowered halfway and the lantern raised a bit more, "That would be Mrs. Bow, or was anyway. She doesn't live here anymore. I'm Mr. Chirk, the neighbor. I never heard of you, Mr. Bates, but you best be on your way before I contact the authorities."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry to have startled you," John apologized to the older neighbor. "I'll just see myself out."

John braced himself against the wall outside of the cottage. He tried to get his bearings. It was so odd seeing the place they had made into a home standing like a hollowed out shell, shrouded in shadows, and filled with silence. "I need to get to the abbey."

* * *

When John reached the outside of the courtyard it dawned on him that he was no longer a servant at Downton, nor had he ever been. At least not in this universe. He would need to find a way to get in. John proceeded to the servants' entrance and knocked on the door, where he was met by Mr. Carson. The butler looked more cross than usual and met him with an irritated tone as he stared down his nose at him. "Can I help you?" the older man asked with a pointed look.

"I was hoping to see Lord Grantham," John said. "I'm an old comrade in arms. I fought with him in the South African war."

"The Earl hasn't been one for visitors as of late, but if I give him your name perhaps he'd be inclined to see you," Mr. Carson said. "Might I have your name?"

John was now becoming accustomed to how this worked. Instead of his own he gave the name of a man who had served in the unit that he and Robert had both known. "Reginald Ellis," John lied.

"Very good, let me speak with his Lordship. For now you can have a seat in the servants hall," Mr. Carson said with a wave of the hand.

"Thank you," John replied as he walked in the direction that Mr. Carson had pointed to.

He sat in the servants hall alone, something seemed amiss but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Much like the village the atmosphere seemed gloomy, highly unusual for this time of year. John didn't have long to ponder before his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Daisy talking to a familiar voice he hadn't heard in some time. John turned his head to see a tall redhead standing in the corridor heading down the stairs that led to the servants quarters. Her accent was thicker than he remembered it, but without a doubt it was Gwen Dawson. He must be imagining things, Gwen hadn't worked here in years. She came into the servants hall and set the typewriter down, "Sorry, I wasn't aware anyone else would be down here this late."

"It's quite alright," John answered back with a gentle smile. She replied with a smile of her own. He had always liked Gwen. Something told him that she initially liked him more than as friends when he first arrived at Downton, but his heart had already belonged to one woman and one woman only. A woman who was inexplicably missing from this dream land he was living in. "What are you doing there? Working on a novel of some sort?"

"Oh no, just practicing...although for what I'm not really sure anymore," Gwen said. She began to work on some transcripts from an envelope, but they look old and worn from years of use.

John knew exactly what they were for. A typing course that she had signed up for long ago. He suddenly remembered a time when he was looking for Anna in one of the rooms upstairs and had found her consoling Gwen after being turned down for a job as a secretary. What was it she had said? She was born with nothing and she'd die with nothing. He had told her that she could turn her life around just as he had. But surely he couldn't have been the reason that she tried again for another opportunity at being a secretary for the telephone company. If that was true that meant Gwen never met her husband either. John felt sorry for her as he listened to her type away softly.

He looked up when he heard the clatter of dishes being set down in front of him. A thin, pale hand set down a small plate and a cup on top of it. "Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked in a small voice. Her dark hair was pulled back and her blue eyes stood out against her mouse like features. It was Daisy.

"Yes, please," John replied.

"Would you like something to eat while you wait?" she asked in a kind voice.

"Um, no thank you. You wouldn't happen to know if An…"

Mrs. Patmore's shouting cut him off. "Daisy, stop the chatter and get back to work. I sent you to fill a cup of tea, not a trip up the Nile."

John was jolted back to old times, Mrs. Patmore's scolding of Daisy was much like it had been when he first arrived at Downton. She began collecting the dishes that had been discarded from the dinner that had been served earlier, a task that was normally reserved for scullery maids and not an assistant cook. As her hand dipped down to retrieve one of the pitchers of water he saw her wedding finger was free of a band. He had been there the day they were married, the day William took his last breath, and had gone to the funeral with Anna walking beside him. Now he realized that she too had achieved no more in life than before. He wanted to ask her about it but didn't have a chance as the butler cleared his throat and Daisy scurried off back into the kitchen.

"Lord Grantham has agreed to meet with you in the library, but you'll have to keep it short. He's a very busy man," Mr. Carson reminded him with a huff.

* * *

John walked up the stairs to the library with ease. He knew his way without instruction, but pretended he didn't so as not to tip off Mr. Carson. On the way up Mr. Carson informed John that due to his injury Lord Grantham did not care to see visitors face to face so he would have to keep to the shadows. This worked out just fine for John given his need to keep his identity secret. Once he was in the library John couldn't help but notice the curtains were drawn and the lights were all out except for the glow emanating from the roaring fire in the large marble fireplace. Mr. Carson motioned for John to walk no further and stay by the door. He walked a little ahead of John and announced the arrival of Reginald Ellis. On his way out the butler leaned in towards John and whispered, "Go no further than the red floor rug unless he asks you to." Then Mr. Carson spoke up again, "Ring if you need anything further m'Lord." Mr. Carson excused himself and John was left standing by himself in the dark corner of the room.

He wasn't sure why, but he was suddenly very nervous. It wasn't as if the Earl could see him or identify him properly. Perhaps it was because he was essentially lying to his oldest friend and it felt wrong somehow. John wasn't sure what to say now that he was here, he wanted answers but it all seemed fruitless now. Clearly, things had not worked out as he hoped they would in his absence.

"Reginald, so good to hear from you," Lord Grantham said from his spot in the arm chair. But it didn't sound heartfelt. It sounded rancorous and sardonic. Robert's back was facing John and his eyes never left the fire as he guzzled down a glass of brandy.

John could easily see from his spot across the room the Earl's right leg had been amputated from the knee down even with a blanket draped over it. The right side of Robert's face was scarred from what John could only assume was an explosion of some sort. Without him there to shield Robert with his own body it appeared as though he had taken more than his fair share of the brunt of the blast. "I'd offer you a drink but it appears I've drank the last of the alcohol," Robert said with a gesture towards the empty bottle.

"It's quite alright, I try not to touch the stuff anymore," John said.

"I take it you made it through the war unscathed then?" Robert asked.

"Yes, I was very lucky m'Lord," John replied with a bit of a cough to make his voice more gruff like Reginald's.

"Lucky indeed," Robert replied back, his voice laced with anger.

"Surely, you must be happy to have returned home to your family," John replied.

"What family?" Robert scoffed in a slurred tone. The scent of alcohol filled the room. "Take a look around you, Reggie," Lord Grantham said with a wave of his hand holding the glass. The liquor sloshed back and forth but never fell on the floor. His eyes met with John's for a moment but he was too far gone in a drunken stupor to recognize Bates or call his bluff about Reginald. "Cora, never loved me the same way she did before I left for war. Kept telling me I wasn't the same man anymore. Who could blame her? Look at me," Robert nearly yelled as he motioned towards his stump of a leg. "We argued constantly. She refused to give me anymore chances after she caught me having an affair with the maid, Jane."

John's memory was jarred when the name popped into his head. Jane Moorsum. He knew she had left Downton rather unexpectedly and that Robert had taken an interest in her boy Freddie, but he never understood why. Now it all made sense.

"She went back to America to live with her mother and brother, Harold, after...after Sybil died," Robert said, taking a deep breath. He was on the verge of tears now. "Matthew died," Robert added.

How odd, that John barely had to utter more than a few words and the words flowed out of Robert like water.

"I'm sorry to embarrass you, Reggie," Robert said as he dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.

"I'm not embarrassed, m'Lord," John replied.

"Edith left for Munich to find her editor Michael Gregson and I never heard from her after that," Robert muttered.

"And Mary?" John asked.

"She never really recovered from her husband's death. There were suitors that followed of course, but that all changed when those damn letters from Freda Dudley Ward to Prince Edward were leaked. The Crawley name had been drug through the muck one too many times at that point. I suppose Mary and I are quite the pair now: bitter, alone, her with her injured pride and myself with my injured leg."

"I'm sorry m'Lord," John said in all honesty.

"I've no one to blame but myself," Robert said as he began to pass out; the alcohol having taken its intended effect.

John walked over to him slowly in the dark and removed the empty glass from his former master's hands and placed it on the side table. John moved Robert's wheelchair closer so that it would be available when he woke. Then he grabbed a blanket he had found covering his Lordship's legs and pulled it up higher to keep Robert warm.

Without another word John left the library and found his own way out of the Abbey undetected.

* * *

"I need to sit down," John said as he took a moment to sit on a crate just outside of the courtyard. He looked around to make sure no one else was around to hear them for fear it would throw this universe into upheaval or land him in the looney bin. "Alright, let's just…" John ran a shaking hand through his hair nervously, "Let's just start from the beginning. Gwen Dawson is still here."

"Yes, without you to intervene and give her that little bit of encouragement she made no further attempts to move beyond her station," Margaret confirmed.

"And Daisy? I played no part in her becoming an assistant chef," he pointed out.

"Oh but you did. Indirectly of course. But do you remember that conversation you had with William when he was broken up about Daisy?"

"Vaguely," John answered back.

"It was in this very same spot. He asked why people get drawn to those who have no interest in them."

"Yes, but I didn't exactly push him towards Daisy."

"No, but you took a shine to William when he needed a friend. And you shielded him from Thomas as best you could. You showed Daisy not to be nasty like Thomas, but without you there William never pursued Daisy. He ran off to war and never looked back. There was no proposal and when he was critically injured he died in a hospital in Leeds without his father or anyone else by his side."

John felt the tears come again. Emotions filled his voice as he argued back, "But...that's not right. The Dowager and Lord Grantham had him brought back to the Abbey so his father could be with him."

"That was back when Lord Grantham cared. You saw the man he is now. Do you think he or his mother would use their power to help William?"

"I suppose not," John sighed. "It still doesn't explain what happened with Daisy though."

"Daisy never married William, so his father never loved her like his own daughter. Mr. Mason never encouraged Daisy to speak up for herself and demand respect from Mrs. Patmore. He also never encouraged her to pursue an education because there was no farm for her to inherit." Her words fell upon John like a weight pushing against his chest. "You see John, every life has a ripple effect. Our actions affect others, directly and indirectly. Some for better and some for worse."

The tears slide down John's cheek as he was reminded of William's death all over again. He had loved the man like a younger brother. John wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"This isn't right. Surely someone must have benefited from my absence," John said to his mother. "What about Vera? Surely she can't be dead since there was no reason to get back at me for marrying Anna. I'm sure Vera is laughing wherever she is now that she doesn't have a worthless, cripple of a husband," John commented in a snarky tone.

"No, she is not dead. But, I very much doubt she is laughing," his mother said. "Vera had always had bigger dreams for herself. Ones that didn't require her to work." His mother took a deep breath before going any further. "Vera was ambitious, I'll give her that. She tried to find a man to fall in love with her and keep her in life of comfort. But it didn't work out the way she planned. Vera ended up sleeping with nearly every man from your old Army barracks and when she was discovered her reputation was ruined. Vera ended up in a whore house. She's still living, but contracted syphilis from one of her many suitors. Though she would deny it if she knew the alternative, you were the best thing that ever happened to her."

John stood there in stunned silence for a few moments before he inquired about the woman who had brought him into this world...or rather the world that he existed in. "What about you? You must have at least been able to live a happier life without having to worry over me and wonder how you ended up with such a disappointment for a son," John said as he reached for his mother. His hands settled on either side of her shoulders and she turned away so her eyes didn't meet his.

"No. You were my only source of joy. Even on your worst day I could never stop loving you," she replied with tears in her eyes. "I died on what would have been your fourteenth birthday."

John's thoughts were becoming jumbled as he tried to separate the life he lived with the life he didn't. He thought back on his fourteenth birthday and remembered how his father had arrived home late to celebrate. His father had been drunk and he remembered his mother taking him behind closed doors in her bedroom and yelling at him, "You were with her again weren't you?" The accusation had resulted in a hard smack from his father and a welt below his mother's eye. The sound had prompted John to run into the bedroom and jump on his father's back. John had knocked him off balance in his inebriated state and began pounding his fists against anything he could make contact with. His father, being bigger than John, tossed him off with ease but by then his mother had grabbed a gun that his father had kept in the night stand and pointed it at his father. They never saw his father again after that. They only had each other to look after. John became painfully aware in that moment that even at his lowest point he was all his mother was living for.

"He killed you?" John asked. Now it all made sense, why she didn't look old the way he remembered last seeing her. She hadn't lived past what would have been his fourteenth birthday. John clenched his fists and his jaw tightened at the thought. "That bastard killed you," John said more vehemently than before. "Oh mum, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to save you," he apologized as he cried into her shoulder. Her familiar scent filling his nose. It felt so good to feel her solid form beneath him; he let out a loud sob as he clutched onto her.

Her hands ran through his hair and rubbed soothing circles into his back. She began to sing and old Irish song into his ear that she used to sing when he was a little boy, but he found it only made him cry harder. John managed to speak through his tears, "Mum? What happened to Anna?"

His mother shook her head back and forth in a no motion. "You don't want to know, John."

"But I have to. I have to know. This can't all have been for nothing," John said angrily as he pulled away. Fear and desperation took over as the wheels in his mind churned a hundred miles an hour. He could almost hear his heart beating through his chest as he asked her, "Where is Anna?"


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Wow! I'm truly overwhelmed by the reception of my last update. This chapter isn't as long, but I thought this was a good place to stop as I may not be able to update again until Sunday. But things seem to be on track for completing this by Christmas. I tried to use some references from the movie for which the fic was named, so some credit to Frank Capra for that. In the movie this scene played out much shorter, so I added quite a bit more dialogue. Hopefully it suits your fancy. Please review :)**_

_**Part III**_

"Mum? You have to tell me. I have to know," John said.

"I'm...I'm not supposed to tell," Margaret said with a hint of hesitation, though he could tell she was torn.

"Please," John begged.

Margaret Bates knew her son all too well. This was one thing he would not budge on. She let out a sigh, knowing how this would affect him. But she saw no point in keeping it from him any longer. "Anna never married, John. She never had any children," she answered.

"No," he said as his voice warbled with emotion. "Say it isn't true."

"She's an old maid," Margaret went on.

"But why? Anna could have had her pick of any man in the village," John stated.

"She didn't want any old man. She wanted her babies to look like you," his mother said.

Her words pierced him like a knife to the heart. Once before when he asked Anna why she had married him, she had said just that. It was something he had brushed off at the time, but now he would have given anything to hear those words fall from her mouth and her arms wrapped around his neck, as her lips pressed against his.

"Anna kept waiting for true love to arrive but it never came. So she resigned herself to spend her life as a Lady's Maid. You see John, you really had a wonderful life. But the moment you chose to stop living it everyone else's life had to change as well."

"Is she happy at least?" John asked.

"I don't know that I would call it happy. It was a lonely existence. But she was content...until…"

"Until what?"

"The night of the concert," she replied.

John nearly fell back on his feet. His eyes widened with terror and his jaw dropped. "No." He knew full well what happened the night of the concert. But he had to hear it from her lips.

"I'm afraid so. Your absence didn't change Anna's fate."

His mother showed him a glimpse of Anna staying at the village chapel late into the evening saying prayers to anyone that would listen. Her hands clasped together so tightly that her knuckles turned white and her fingernails nearly cut into her own skin. Anna squeezed her eyes shut as tears cascaded down her cheeks, hoping to push the bad memories away. Her lips muttering incoherently as she fought back her cries. "Please Lord. Please make the nightmares stop," she begged.

John listened carefully as her whispers cut through the dark. Words that he had heard her say before and had shrugged off. _Shamed. Spoiled. Dirty. Soiled. Dirty._ Words he would never associate with Anna even on her worst day. Yet here she was believing that not only would no one ever love her, but that God wouldn't forgive her of her sins. When John knew full well this was no fault of her own. The image painted before him broke his heart in two. John wanted to hold her; to comfort his wife in her time of need and assure her that there would be brighter days again. That someone out there still cared for her, would always adore her. He was still proud of her and had never loved her more than he had in that moment.

"Does she have no one to help her?" John asked as the image slowly faded from view and disappeared. John tried to grasp at it to keep her safe, but it was gone in a cloud of smoke.

His mother shook her head back and forth in a no motion. "Without you in her life, Anna didn't have a husband to fall back on and vouch for her reputation. She never went to Mrs. Hughes because she didn't have to worry about protecting you from yourself. Anna feared no one would believe her innocence so she kept the attack to herself. There was no one to support her and help her through the nightmares or build her back up. This is the only place Anna finds solace anymore. Here and…"

"Where?" John asked.

"The courtyard," Margaret said.

As much as it pained him to leave his mother standing there he had to see Anna in person. John headed for the courtyard as quickly as his legs would carry him. When John reached the area just outside of the courtyard he paused behind one of the walls to keep himself hidden in the shadows. John need only wait a few moments before he heard the familiar clack of the door handle that led to the servants hall. Sure enough there she was. His heart wanted to rejoice at the mere sight of her but he could not find the will in him to move towards her. Somehow she looked even more broken than the Anna he had seen rotting away in that prison. For once she looked as though her age matched his own. Anna took a seat on a stack of crates and John could help but notice they barely shook beneath her tiny frame. She looked beyond tired, as though every last bit of fire in her had been extinguished. A thin layer of snow collected around her and he noticed that her body shook like a leaf in the cold.

When he saw her begin to cry into her hands, John didn't even give a thought of how best to approach her. He could stand there in silence no more. "Anna," he said softly.

Her ears perked up and Anna looked up from the spot where she had been staring at her shoes on the ground. She clearly didn't recognize him. And surely she was wondering how he knew her name.

"I'm sorry," he said. _For so many things that he couldn't say right now._ "I didn't mean to intrude on you or scare you," John added with his hands up in surrender.

She stood up quickly, partially out of fear and the other part out of embarrassment for being caught crying. Anna dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and brushed it off. "It was nothing." She brushed off the back of her uniform in case anything from the crates had dirtied it.

"It couldn't have been nothing, otherwise you wouldn't be crying," his voice said as sweetly as possible. It was odd to have so many memories of someone that he had known emotionally and physically, but for her to have no recollection of him at all. She still held some favor towards him in her eyes, but it wasn't the same one he was used to. Anna didn't have that sparkle in her eyes that she always reserved for him or that small little quirk at the corner of her smile that seemed to appear whenever he walked into a room.

Anna cleared her throat and asked, "Can I help you?"

"I was just passing by and couldn't help but overhear your cries and I thought…" in truth he didn't know what he thought. John hadn't planned this out.

"And you thought you'd push in?" she said a little more harshly than he expected.

"No, absolutely not," he tried to apologize. "I only wanted to see if I could be of assistance." That was a lie. He wanted nothing more than to make her smile again. His body ached to reach out and protect her from every cruelty that had been thrust upon her.

Her features softened at the sound of his words and she nervously fiddled with her handkerchief. "That's very kind of you. But no one can help me," she said in a defeated tone.

Silence settled between them as John attempted to find some way to propel their conversation forward. It was surreal that she should come to the courtyard to find some relief from the thoughts that must have plagued her. To _their_ courtyard. It was where they had shared their first kiss. It was the place he had proposed to her, even though it hadn't been the way he planned. It was where he had left her standing alone as he set off with Vera and left his precious Anna to console herself with tears. Tears he had caused. John tried to push the bad memories away for a moment. For them it had always been more than a brief escape from the hustle and bustle of their jobs. It had been a place for private conversations, for future plans to be made, kisses and touches to be exchanged, secrets to be whispered. In some ways it still held all that promise, but it wasn't the same in a world where he ceased to exist.

"I'd like to try," John said as he slowly approached her. He made a conscious effort not to cross more than halfway towards her.

"Why would you show me such a kindness?" Anna asked skeptically. "And how do you know my name?"

"You probably don't remember me." He scoffed internally. "You showed me a kindness once before...in the village." He lied again. "I only wanted to return the favor," John said.

"I'm sorry but I don't recall ever meeting you...Mister…"

"Bates...John Bates," John said as he extended his hand.

"Mr. Bates...," she said in that glorious way that only she could. Enunciating every syllable with that adorable Yorkshire accent. "What did I do?" she asked with genuine interest.

Oh if only he could tell her all the things she had done for him. All the ways she had made him feel like a man again. And not just any man. An honorable one. How she had brought light back into his life when there was nothing but darkness. Or the way she always looked upon him with joy dancing in her eyes in spite of his age and disability. He'd never be able to thank her enough in his old life or the next for always standing by him and seeing past his mistakes. Most of all he'd never be able to truly express how happy she made him when she became his wife. For loving him the way she did and making their marriage seem so effortless.

"You saved me," John whispered under his breath. "You saw me when no one else did." This time his voice was sure and didn't falter. "I fell in love with you the moment I saw you," he said with a crinkly-eyed smile at the memory of their first meeting. The feel of her hand in his as they met in the most exquisite way. An offer of friendship that he had no right to.

Anna pulled him from his thoughts when she managed a small, shy smile. "That's sweet of you, but I don't believe in love at first sight," she admitted rather hopelessly.

"Maybe not now...but you did." Her words still echoed in his brain, the day she offered him her hand. "_Because…because I love you, Mr Bates. I know it's not ladylike to say it, but I'm not a lady, and I don't pretend to be_." Even when he couldn't reciprocate the sentiment the way he wanted to, John knew then what a truly special gift he had in her. He had hated the long cart ride he had taken to the flower show on his own. Unspoken conversations had still hovered somewhere in the air as she followed behind him with her eyes fixed on her feet. And even still, he knew she loved him. She harbored no ill feelings towards him for not being able to proclaim his love for her as she had for him. If anything it had only made her love him more. Her body became smaller as the distance between them grew. Yet somehow that memory was easier to deal with than the moment he was playing out right now, at least then he knew she still loved him. Not now. Now she didn't even know who he was...it was a thought that only made him long for her more.

"What makes you say that?" Anna asked as she took a step towards him.

John took it as a sign that he was gaining her trust. He didn't want to lose that. Despite her altered appearance he still thought her to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on. In the pale moonlight, her hair still reminded him of the morning sun. John supposed this is how it was for her all those times she had argued with him that he was handsome. Their love was limitless. It did not stop for time or ebb with one's looks. "If I told you, you'd think me crazy."

"Please," she said in the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.

John chose his words carefully. "I'd like to think that in another life you and I could be happy." _I know that we were. I know we still could be._ "We would live in a cottage by the sea, running a little hotel, with our children surrounding us as we grew older," he said in a whimsical voice. _Just like we always planned._

Anna seemed as though she were living the dream with him; the look in her eyes was far off somewhere.

"We'd spend our days working side by side with one another." _Just like we've always done._ "When we caught a free moment we'd take walks hand in hand along the sand. In the evenings I'd prepare you tea with a bit of milk and a heapful of sugar because you like it sweet," John realized as soon as the words left his mouth he hadn't meant to say that. But he couldn't help himself. The image of her walking around their cottage sitting room in her stockings after a hard days work was still engraved in his mind. He couldn't stop the words from pouring out anymore. "I'd put it all on a tray with a small vase of lavender flowers because they are your favorite and bring it to you in bed," he added as tears threatened to smother his voice. The memory of a sweet housemaid with her hair in a loose braid and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders popped into his head then and took his breath away.

"How do you…" she began to ask but he kept talking.

"And before we fall asleep I'd read poetry by Robert Burns to you because I know how much it relaxes you." _You always insisted I read so you could fall asleep to the sound of my voice._ His bottom lip quivered as the memories came rushing back.

"I don't...I don't understand," Anna said with tears in her eyes as her head shook back and forth in disbelief. "How could you know all that?"

"Because I love you. I've always loved you," he said gently. "I know I must sound crazy, but…in another life we were married, Anna."

"Don't say my name. I don't even know you," she argued.

"But you do...er...did," John said as he tried to keep her calm. He could see the panic building in her eyes. The terror written across her face. John was struggling enough as it was and he had wished this upon them. He could only imagine what was going through her mind right now. He held his hands out as he said, "Anna, darling, please."

"I'm not your darling," her words cut him like a knife. "Don't touch me or I'll scream," Anna insisted as she began to back up towards the door. Her eyes still trained on him, but her hands were visibly shaking now.

"I can prove it," he said. "You were born in Yorkshire. Your parents sent you away to work at Downton when you were twelve because their farm was failing."

"Stop. I'll hear none of this."

"Your favorite brother was Andrew and he died in the war...in the Battle of the Somme. You even have a scar on your left arm from when he dared you to climb the rafters of the barn on your farm and the ladder gave way."

Anna was crying now but she didn't scream. "Anyone could have found that out if they asked the right people."

"But I know something no one else does," John said with some hesitancy.

"What's that?"

"I know," he whispered softly. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he remembered the way he had found her scrubbing those shoes-almost aggressively so, in that boot room.

Anna flinched almost imperceptibly and he probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't seen it all before. Her body tensed at the memory and her hands balled up into tiny fists as she fought the urge to run and hide.

"I know how it happened and when it happened," John said with regret. His failure to protect her still haunted him.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she lied. Yet even in a world where they weren't married she couldn't take her eyes off of him as she said it.

"I know it was Lord Gillingham's valet who flirted with you and teased you from the moment he stepped foot in here."

Her eyes widened in response, but she denied it still. "No. You couldn't possibly know that. No one could," she said as her voice raised in pitch. Anna was becoming hysterical.

"Love, please," John said as he reached out to hold her and comfort her.

She pulled away and screamed, "No! Stop! Don't touch me!"

"Darling," he begged.

The back door blasted open. "What in the devil is going on out here?!" Mr. Carson bellowed. "Mr. Ellis, what are you doing back here?" the butler inquired.

"He said his name was Bates," Anna reported as she shot John a perplexed look. "Keep him away! This man is crazy! He tried to attack me," she shouted.

Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore arrived immediately after that and began to comfort her. Jimmy, Alfred, and two other hall boys attempted to confine John as Mr. Carson stated that he would call the cops.

"You can't call the police. That's my wife," John argued back.

Anna fainted under the strain of the situation.

John screamed out her name and fought to free himself. He eventually wriggled his right arm loose and struck one of the boys with a right hook before sinking a jab into Alfred's jaw. The other two boys went down with little effort as John threw his weight into them and ran off into the night.

* * *

John stumbled into the village cemetery. His head was pounding as John contemplated how things had become so turned around in his absence. William dying all alone, Robert a cripple and with no one to share his life with, Mr. Molesley reduced to mending roads for next to nothing, Thomas in the workhouse, and his mother gone before her time. He was panting hard as he leaned against a headstone. His eyes travelled up to see William's name etched into the stone marker. "She didn't even recognize me," he mumbled to himself. John felt an indescribable pain, like grief. But how could one grieve over someone that was still there. He realized now that Anna was more lost without him than she ever was with him. "Mum!" he shouted into the night air. "Mum, where are you?" the puff of fog billowed from his mouth. "If you can hear me, I take it all back. I want to go back!" John fell to his knees in the snow and began to cry as he folded his hands together. "Please Lord, if you're listening...I want to live again. I want to live again," he pleaded to anyone that would listen.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I apologize for the delay in updates as I'm currently in the middle of moving from one home to another. Otherwise this would have posted just before Christmas. I hope you all enjoy it and thanks so much for all the reviews so far. Thanks to Paige, Tammy, and Terrie for helping me out with this chapter. Please review :)**_

_**Part IV**_

John looked up to the dark sky and prayed for relief from this nightmare he was trapped in. He searched his pockets frantically for the picture of Anna that he always carried with him. John almost began to hyperventilate as his search turned fruitless. It wasn't until he had checked every pocket three times that it dawned on him, he wouldn't have a photo of a wife he'd never met or married. "Did you hear me God?!" he shouted into the night air. "I was wrong...she needs me just as much as I need her. I understand that now." He wrung his hands in anguish. "I want to live again. I want her back," John said with a heavy sob. "I want my wife back." The more he cried the more muffled his words became. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. He didn't care if the darkness swallowed him up completely.

* * *

John heard a banging and it shook him from his sleep. He thrashed violently, still attempting to wake up completely until he fell from the chair he'd fallen asleep in. John was thrown off balance and landed on the hardwood floor with a thud. He hadn't landed on his knee but it hadn't made the brunt of the fall any easier to bear. "Ugggghhhh!" John groaned in protest as he attempted to stand up on his own without the use of his cane. He quickly realized he couldn't as a sharp pain shot up the length of his leg. "Damn!" he cried out.

"What's going on in there?" a familiar voice called out.

"Hold on!" John called back from the floor. He rolled his pant leg back and saw the pink, gnarled flesh that covered his kneecap and let out a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd be so happy to see that mangled excuse for a limb, but it was there. It was certainly not the reaction he expected from himself, but he took it as a sign that he had returned.

John then patted his jacket looking for the photo. But it wasn't there. How could it be? Oh god, what if he'd gone to some other time and place where his leg was injured but Anna was still unaware of who he was. It had to be here somewhere, he thought to himself. John found his cane still resting against the back of the chair and used it to stand up and hold steady.

"Mr. Bates!" the voice called out again from the other side of the door.

John was just about to turn to address the voice when he saw the worn photograph of his beloved Anna sitting on the table beside the confession he'd begun to write out on paper before he'd fallen asleep. "I'm back," John whispered. He picked it up tenderly as if it might evaporate or tear on impact, John brought it to his lips and kissed it sweetly. "I'm not giving up my darling. I'll fix this. I promise," he vowed in a low voice as he placed the photo.

"What's going on in there? Do I have to break this door down?" the voice rose in pitch as the handle jiggled frantically.

John opened the door just as the person on the other side was about to break the door down. "Thomas," John said with a smile. An unexpected wave of peace came over him.

The under butler stood there with wide eyes. Thomas was already dressed for the morning and surprised to see Mr. Bates still wearing his suit from the day before. "Well who else were you expecting? You've been making odd noises all evening and keeping me up," Thomas said in a scolding tone. "And after I performed your valet duties for you last night so you could get a moment of peace."

John didn't even have time to think as he threw his arms around the man he'd always been at odds with. "You certainly are a sight for sore eyes."

Thomas tried to pull free from the valet's embrace and looked at John like he had a screw loose. "Have you gone mad? Get off me."

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see you again," John uttered as he let Thomas go from his grip.

"Again?"

"Nevermind. I have to speak with Mr. Murray about Anna," John said.

"That's what I came to talk to you about. Mr. Murray is on the phone downstairs. Mr. Carson says you can take the phone call in his office. Unless you aren't feeling up to it," Thomas said.

"No. No. I'll be right down. Thank you," John said gratefully before closing the door to change.

"Blimey, what was that all about?" Thomas asked himself.

* * *

His hands were shaking as he set the phone back down onto the receiver. John almost couldn't believe his ears. Mr. Murray said that new evidence had been brought forward and that there was a very good chance Anna would be released before Christmas. He had reason to hope now, but John had been burned before. John requested that Mr. Murray not say anything to Anna in case something fell through, he couldn't stand her having to live through another disappointment.

Two days later he was over the moon to find out that his Anna was being released. John only wished he could be there to see her face when they officers told her she would be heading home soon. He felt horrible when he found out that another woman would be taking his wife's place in her cell for the murder of Mr. Green. No doubt the poor soul had suffered the same fate Anna had, but at least this time they had the right person. Having experienced it himself, John would hate to think of anyone else serving time in that prison for a crime they didn't commit. Although, he knew Mr. Green had gotten everything he had coming to him and he couldn't blame that woman for giving him his come uppance. But John knew what this mix up had cost him and his wife. John only hoped that he could be the support system Anna needed when she returned to him.

"Well?" Mrs. Hughes asked as John stepped out of Mr. Carson's office.

John was beside himself. He had even taken a few moments to collect his thoughts and compose himself so that he wasn't a bawling mess, but even now he felt the tears pricking at his eyes once more. "That was Mr. Murray…" John said a little out of breath as he imagined the possibility of having Anna home in time for Christmas.

"I gathered that much," the housekeeper replied. "But what did he say."

"She's coming home," John said softly. He had never heard sweeter words, including the day he was told he would be released. John could have lived with life in prison or a death sentence, even for a crime he hadn't committed. But the prospect of watching his sweet wife suffering behind bars for the rest of her life would have been too much to bear.

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Hughes said as she dropped her notes for the day's chores and preparations.

"It is. It truly is," he said softly.

"You don't sound very excited," Elsie replied with concern on her face.

"It's still so surreal. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and find out none of this is true. I just hope that prison hasn't destroyed her completely. She already had to build herself back up once before," John replied with a tinge of sadness.

"And she'll do it again. Anna is made of sterner stuff and she has you to help her through it."

"That she does...and I won't let her down," John said resolutely.

* * *

She was to be released at dawn. A fact he was painfully aware of without being told. He wanted to be the first to greet her and so John had made arrangements with Lord Grantham to stay at Rosamund's place in London the evening before so he could pick her up first thing. John had felt rather a pain to be asking the chauffeur to wake up so early so that they could be there a half hour early, but he wouldn't miss the chance to welcome her back to the real world. John was reminded of the way their surrogate family had pulled together to make Anna's transition back to life. Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Baxter had been kind enough to help him pack a bag for her so she could change into some of her regular clothes before heading back to Downton. Mrs. Patmore had baked a chocolate banana nut bread that she knew Anna was so fond of. John had to laugh at that and remarked to the chef, "I'm bringing her back, not shipping her off."

"I know, but she hasn't had much to eat in the past few weeks. At least nothing I'd want to touch with a ten foot pole I'm sure. It will be nice for her to have something familiar and comforting in her belly before she can come back here. Then I can spoil her some more," Mrs. Patmore insisted.

"I have no doubts about that. And I'm sure it will be much appreciated. Don't worry I'll be sure to give it to her," John said with a warm smile.

"And these too," Daisy said as she pushed some jam tarts into his hands. "I made a special batch with the strawberry jam. I know it's her favorite."

John couldn't help but be moved by the gesture as he stared at the assistant cook who had moved up from preparing fires in the mornings and a whole other list of menial tasks. Daisy had certainly grown up over the years and John was glad that she hadn't taken a complete shine to Thomas. God only knows how she would have turned out. He was only sorry that William wasn't here to see it. Even if it hadn't resulted in marriage he was sure the lad who had died protecting the life of Mr. Crawley would have been proud of all her achievements and accomplishments. It was only right that someone from their lot should move up in the world after working so hard to better themselves.

"What time are you leaving to head to London?" Mr. Carson asked as he walked into the servants hall.

"I'm catching the afternoon train just after Lord Grantham finishes his tea. I want to stop off and pick up something special for Anna for Christmas," John said.

"You didn't get her something sooner?" Daisy inquired.

"I...I wasn't sure she'd be home for Christmas," he answered truthfully. "Even when I heard of her release, I didn't think it would be in time for Christmas."

"Well, that's quite alright," Mrs. Hughes said with a reassuring pat on the back. "You can make it up to her when she returns. I'm sure she'll love anything you get her. And besides, she won't have had time to go shopping for you."

"I wouldn't need anything. Wouldn't even dream of asking for anything more. Anna's release is the greatest gift I could have asked for," John said with a sigh.

"Alright, don't go getting all weepy on us," came a voice laced in smoke from the far end of the servants hall table. "Finish up your work so you can get out of here and bring her back home," Thomas added with a smile.

Maybe it was the weeks without Anna that had done it, or his new lease on life, but John just couldn't find it in him to be at odds with the under butler. Not now. Not today, when everything was finally looking up for him and Anna. It went without saying that he wished this whole experience could have been avoided, but knowing that it would all be ending well made him more than grateful. He was going to prove his mother right and make this life worth living. Every day was a gift and he was going to get another chance to experience it all over again with Anna by his side.

John was brought back from his memories as he looked over at the small basket of goodies sitting next to him in the car. He thought he saw some movement by the door to the prison and began to exit the car. John's hands were practically sweating through his gloves and nearly crushed his bowler hat as a result of nerves. He patted over his heart and felt the picture of Anna through the fabric. He felt like a child on Christmas morning awaiting the appearance of Saint Nick; his heart was almost leaping from his chest and every muscle in his body was teeming with excitement. John had dressed in his Sunday best and pulled out his pocket watch to check the time again. It was just past six in the morning when the prison seemed to erupt with life. John heard the locks of the door begin to clatter and one of the guards made his way through to hold the door open for her.

The moment she stepped into view he felt himself instantly relax. His bottom lip quivered as her sky blue eyes met his own and that smile that could only belong to one person lit up his world all over again. She looked smaller in stature than he remembered her. Not just her weight but the way she carried herself, but he wouldn't focus on that for too long. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel self-conscious about something. No. Today and every day after would be all about making her stronger, healthier, happier. It didn't matter to him how long it took. He knew he was better for being with her and vice versa. John would hold her hand through it all.

There was still a gap between them. One that neither was willing to close just yet, fearing that the slightest movement would bring this dream crashing down around them. The slam of the prison door behind her caused her to shake and John made his way towards her as quickly as possible. She did the same, if only to prevent him from hurting his leg by doing more than he was used to. If only she knew he would have just as gladly crawled the distance on his belly if it meant she was his reward.

John tore off his gloves needed to have that instant contact with her when he knew decorum would call for minimal public displays of affection. But the rules be damned, he had been kept from her far more than he cared to admit. Their hands reached one another first and just as it had countless times before her tiny weight crushed against his chest. He pulled her in tightly and covered every ounce of her with his arms and body, shielding her from the world and keeping her safe. John pulled away long enough to look deeply into her eyes; his rough hands found either side of her cheeks and cradled her face gently. His fingers traced the edges of her face, refamiliarizing himself with the touch of her skin all over again. Tears slid down her cheeks but she smiled through them.

It was a silent reminder that she did not want to be treated like a victim. And he would do everything in his power to bring her back to some sense of normalcy; take her to a place where she wasn't known as a suspected felon, a victim, or a wife of a murderer. He wouldn't put off their future any longer. As soon as she said the word, they would do as they always planned and find their little hotel by the sea.

"I never knew such happiness was possible," John said. He could feel her shudder in his arms as she let out a ragged breath. "The last few weeks there were so many times I thought of what I might say or do when I finally had you back in my arms."

"And?" she asked.

"I don't know how to explain it...it's like I've died a thousand painful deaths without you…"

Anna began to speak, sensing the onset of some self deprecating remark.

He silenced her and picked up where he left off, "...but now it's time we lived a thousand beautiful lifetimes together."

"Wha-"

John let his mouth envelop hers. It took her breath away and he felt her begin to melt into his grip. She smiled against his lips and he felt his heart flutter as he imagined how bright and beautiful it must look. But it had been so long since he had felt her in such away, had tasted her so fully out in the open. He couldn't pull himself away from her even if he wanted to. He let his tongue slip into her mouth and delve into her welcoming warmth; their lips moving in sync as their hands anchored them to one another. How large a part silence and separation had played in their relationship that whenever they were reunited it only made the moments all the sweeter.

His hands moved to the back of her neck and smoothed her hair down. "John," she managed to moan in between kisses. But her voice only spurned him on. It was sweeter than he remembered. John kissed her harder and deeper and before he knew it his own tears were mixing with hers. He stopped momentarily to dry her eyes. His fingers drifted down her sides before resting on her hips. "Take me away from this place," she said.

"As you wish my darling," John said as he stroked her cheek and led the way. He held the car door open for her as he helped her up. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously and clutched his hand tightly until the prison was out of sight.

He recalled the anxious sensation when their roles had been reversed. "I thought we could return to the Crawley house in London to give you a chance to bathe and change into some of your regular clothes." She had been released in her lady's maid uniform. The same one she'd been taken away in. Anna nodded her head in understanding. "Lord Grantham said we could have the next few days to ourselves. After the servants ball tonight to celebrate Christmas the family is heading off to Duneagle again. They won't be requiring our services. I thought maybe we could head straight back home."

"Oh no. Please I've wanted us to be able to spend at least one Christmas together at the servants ball as a married couple," she said in a pleading voice. "We've always been separated or never went because you couldn't dance," Anna pointed out.

John frowned at the honesty of her words and the simplicity of her request. He admitted it was quite unexpected. He thought she'd rather head home to slowly re-immerse herself into her work life. But that wasn't his Anna. She preferred to conquer things head on. How could he deny such a request after all she'd been through? And after all she'd done for him over the years. John was going to start living even if it meant muddling through a dance with two left feet. "Alright my darling. If it's what you want," he said before kissing the back of her hand.

* * *

Rosamund had been more than accommodating in allowing Anna to bathe and change before having to board the train back to Downton. John couldn't help but notice she tried to stave off her exhaustion even though he insisted she take a nap. If she was anything like him, she was probably scared to fall asleep, worried that when she woke up she wouldn't be here anymore. Instead they made small talk about all that she had missed and any new developments at the abbey. He had already informed Anna that Mr. Branson and Miss Sybbie would be leaving soon and they both agreed it would be hard to see them go, knowing how much both of them meant to their employers.

John fulfilled her wish in stopping off to make an appearance at the servants ball before returning to the cottage. They approached the abbey through the courtyard entrance. John paused for a moment as he recounted the way Anna had looked in his dream when she hadn't recognized him. He tried to shake the thought from his head, but the gesture hadn't gone unnoticed by his wife. "John...what is it?" Anna asked as she tugged on the hem of his jacket sleeve.

He wouldn't ruin their night reminiscing about something that never happened. John also knew she would see right through a lie if he told one. "I just thought I'd check one more time...see if you wanted to change your mind and just go home instead. The abbey will still be here in the morning and tomorrow."

"John Bates, you aren't trying to duck out of this party after you already promised me a dance?" Anna asked in scolding tone.

"No," he answered back with a chuckle. His hands rose in surrender as he shook his head back and forth. "I just wanted to make sure. It's been a long, trying day for you and you need your rest," John pointed out. She looked so breathtakingly beautiful in her pink, handmade dress. He fell even more in love with the expression on her face, that fierce determination that had always been there since day one.

"I'll have plenty of time to catch up on sleep later...among other things," she said with a hint of mischief as she stroked his cheek. The country lilt in her voice never failing to make him smile broadly.

"I'm counting on it," John said with a wicked grin of his own. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she let out a small, pleasure-filled moan.

"But first," Anna said with a finger pointed at him, "I want to see my friends and wish them a happy Christmas. And then I want to share a kiss under the mistletoe."

"I don't think I can manage that," John replied with a flirtatious tone.

"Which part?" she asked.

"The mistletoe part," John said gruffly.

"And why is that?" Anna asked with a hint of disappointment. She knew that in their early years of courtship John had been more than adamant about not sharing public displays of affection where their employer might see them. But it wasn't like him in the last few years. After all the entire household knew they were married and it wasn't as if worse things hadn't occurred under this roof; like the death of Mr. Pamuk.

John leaned in to whisper into her ear, making sure that his warm breath seared her neck and his gravely voice had its intended effect. "Because I don't think I could restrain myself to just one kiss with you under the mistletoe." Anna giggled and blushed at the sound of his words. "In fact, I'm positive I wont be able to stop at just kisses."

"What has gotten into you, John Bates?" Anna asked with a smile of pride etched upon her face.

"You. You have gotten into me, my darling. You have invaded me, body and soul since the moment I met you and now that I have you back, I have every intention of showing you just how much you mean to me."

"How is that any different from the way you treated me before?" Anna asked.

"Because now I know that I have had that same impact on you," he said. Anna began to cut him off but he went on, "And I know you've told me that countless times, but I believe it now. I love you so much, Anna." Before he could say anything more he was interrupted by the sound of the back door opening. A wave of music and laughter filtered out from the party taking place inside. They separated enough to keep a sense of decorum and looked over to the shadow that filled the doorway.

Thomas revealed himself and glanced back and forth between John and Anna. "Golly I'm glad you're back so your husband will stop moping around here," Thomas said as he lit up a cigarette.

John couldn't help but let out an irritated sigh.

Anna rubbed her hand along his lapel as she attempted to cheer him up. "Come now, let's not let him ruin our night."

John threw on a smirk for Anna and looped his arm so that his wife could loop her arm with his. "You're right. It's Christmas after all," he responded.

As the two of them went to walk past Mr. Barrow, who was blowing smoke rings, they were stopped by Thomas's hand on Anna's arm. "I'm truly happy to see you back within these walls," the under butler said.

"Thank you, Thomas," she replied.

"Happy Christmas."

"Same to you," Anna said with a smile as they made their way toward the great hall.

* * *

They walked back to the cottage hand in hand, just as they always had. Their bodies gravitating towards one another and grazing each other with every step. The contact went beyond passionate desire, it was a necessity. They craved the other's touch like they needed oxygen. Loving one another came as easy as breathing and without choice. She stopped every so often to allow him a moment to rest his leg after having danced through more than one song without the use of his cane. She took the opportunity to shower him with kisses. He never knew a short journey to the cottage could seem so long, but he would have done it a thousand times over to give her that moment of happiness she so truly deserved.

When he reached the door of their home his hand lingered on the lock after fishing for the key. John turned back to check on her when he heard Anna release a shallow breath as if she were preparing herself for some monumental task. "Are you alright my darling?"

He was always so considerate of her feelings. Almost annoyingly so but she could never find fault in it. She loved how he spoiled her. Anna was all too aware that most women were not as lucky to have a husband like him who doted on them the way her John did. She cast off an easy smile. "I'm fine. I just...I didn't think it would hit me so hard to see our home coming more into sight as we walked the path and now that we are here...I mean once we are inside..." Anna's words were cut off by her own tears and she swallowed hard to rid herself of them. She should be happy not crying.

"It'll be real," he filled in.

She nodded her head silently in agreement.

"But that's the best part," John said with a grin. "Once we are inside our future can begin again."

Anna tilted her head in confusion. She wasn't sure where this surge of optimism had come from but she had to admit she rather enjoyed it.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to tonight or any other night unless you're ready," John assured her with considerate eyes.

Her hand came up to rest on his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath her hand reminding her that this all was in fact real. "Why are you so good to me, John Bates?" she asked. Most men would have left their wives or at the very least turned their attentions elsewhere after what happened with Mr. Green. Most men would have left their wives to rot in that jail after hearing their wife was possibly involved in the murder of their attacker. Most men would have been horrified to hear of her tragic experience with her step father. But just as he had in all the years she'd known him, Anna Bates found that her husband was not most men.

"I suppose it is the same reason you've shown me such kindness through the years," he answered before pressing a small kiss to her cheek. "Besides I rather fancy you," John added with a wink. They shared a small giggle and he helped usher her into the cottage with his hand resting on the small of her back.

They walked through the doorway and John quickly assisted her out of her coat and lit the lamp. Like old lovers they picked up right where they left off. Anna helped him out of his coat and hung it on the rack. The cottage was dimly lit but Anna couldn't help but noticed its nearly immaculate appearance. She had always kept a clean house and John wasn't a dirty man by any means. Not when he was a trained valet. But it looked as though it had just been thoroughly cleaned. Almost untouched and the realization broke her heart when she figured out why. "You didn't even come back here did you?"

John hung his head in shame. "It was too much to bear. Everything reminded me of you. It didn't seem right coming back here when you couldn't."

She nodded her head in understanding. Having been in the same position before she knew only too well what it was like to frequent a location seemed to be almost haunted with memories of the one she loved.

"When Mr. Murray confirmed your release date I came down here and tidied the place up. I left everything just like you like it and even went down to the village to pick up some of your favorite soaps and creams."

"You picked me flowers too," she noted with a blinding smile. Anna made her way over to the tiny vase on the kitchen table that was filled with white and yellow winter camellias. Her hand never leaving his own as they moved about the cottage.

"Oh yes, that," he said with a red blush gracing his cheeks. "I wanted to get you something special from Molesley's father, but I didn't have time to before I went to London. I got those in the garden behind the house," John explained.

But it didn't require an explanation. The flowers reminded her of the ones that had been on the tray he had brought to her in the attics of Downton all those years ago and it made her heart swell with love for him. "They are more than special. They are perfect," Anna responded as her fingertips danced along the edges of the flowers. Anna then turned her attentions back to the small tree in the corner of their sitting room. "And you have picked out a tree for us," she said.

Anna saw that he had put up the lights but left out the ornaments since he knew that was her favorite part and she always had more of an eye on how to space them and place them accordingly. He even had a few small gifts under the tree waiting for her.

"I did." John flicked the switch and the tree instantly came to life. "Told you I could manage," he joked. "I just wanted to make sure you were able to come home to a very happy Christmas."

"Getting to come home at all...to you...that was all that I ever needed," she said with tears in her eyes. She wiped them away as she looked around their tiny cottage. It wasn't much but it was theirs. It was where their married life had begun, it's where she had hoped to create and bring children into the world, where she hoped to grow old with John if the hotel never came to pass.

"I know. I know that now." 

"I don't understand what's brought all this on?" she asked.

John took her in his arms and stared deeply into her eyes, "I just had an epiphany of sorts, let's call it a moment of clarity in the fog while you were away." He brought both her hands up towards his face and kissed the palms of her hands. "I never truly felt worthy of you, because I didn't think you could ever need me as much as I need you. And I know you'll fight me to end of your days on this, which is why I'm telling you now I agree with you. I used to feel that I was holding you back, but I know now that one cannot exist without the other. Our love is a partnership and you would be just as lost without me as I am without you. I can admit that now. I'm sorry for everything that's happened and while I can take responsibility for the things I caused, I promise I wont blame myself for the things I didn't."

She was visibly shaking at the sound of his words, but didn't make an attempt to cut him off or correct him as she had in the past. Anna was stunned silent by this grand gesture her husband was making. Seeing him make such progress and being so open with her about it was moving her to tears.

"I love you, Anna Bates. More than I could ever hope to express. But I'll certainly try," John promised.

"I love you, you silly beggar," she chided him before pressing a kiss to his lips. Her mouth molded to his so perfectly, when she tilted her head back she whispered, "Thank you for dancing with me tonight."

John's memory took him back to only a few hours before, after everyone congratulated her on her return and drank in her honor. She looked so at peace and at home, a sensation he feared would never return after her horrific ordeal in the boot room. Yet somehow she emerged from prison with a new found strength, almost stronger if that were possible. His Anna laughed again with her full body and smiled as if it were the last time she'd get to experience it. She even indulged in a bit of sherry which amused him to no end. He let her take a turn with Thomas, Mr Carson and Andy during the faster songs. Her cheeks turning red with every turn and twirl around the floor. He didn't have to try hard to imagine what she looked like as a little girl dancing with such abandon. It pleased him immensely; John could only think of one word: Marvelous. She was just as breathtakingly gorgeous and captivating as she had been in Duneagle as she reeled across the dance floor. She looked like an angel bringing joy to all that she met as she flitted around the room like a hummingbird stopping say something to everyone she met. Their co-workers who had become like family and employers joined in on the fun and it warmed John's heart to see them all so happy. Even with all they had lost over the years it was clear to him now what could have been. And in the wake of losing Lady Sybil and Mr. Matthew, John could not recall a happier Christmas in all his life.

But when a slower song came on the gramophone John was promptly by her side, having been waiting in the wings for the opportune moment to swoop down and cut in. He had left his cane hanging over the back of a chair at a table Mrs. Patmore was seated at. His limp was more pronounced without its aid but it didn't matter anymore, nothing mattered to him but her. She met him halfway and guided his hands to where they should rest, one on the slope of her lower back and the other securely propping up her left hand. John had stopped to take notice of the wedding ring that was back in it's rightful place as he ran his own fingers across it . It wasn't the most graceful picture, but they moved as one. They were each other's support and they only had eyes for each other. It was as plain to see for anyone standing in the room that they were just as in love as ever before and that the trials of the past had not broken them.

Anna leaned forward to whisper, "I feel like everyone is staring at me. Perhaps we shouldn't have come."

"No, they are staring at me. They are wondering how an older man like myself, with such a torrid past and a limp managed to land a woman like you," he said with a smile. John may not have been able to move his legs the way he wanted to, but he still knew the motions and managed to put Anna on display the way she deserved to be.

"I see," she said with a hint of playfulness. "Well I suppose I've always shied away from the younger men, they still have so much growing up to do and can be rather self involved. And you do look rather dashing and distinguished with this hint of silver feathered about your temples."

John had to chuckle at that when he considered some of the younger footmen that had graced the halls of Downton Abbey.

"I never saw it as a torrid past. We all have a past," Anna said with a small sigh. "And while we may not like to reveal them, they make us who we are. And I knew I loved who you were from the start, John Bates." She couldn't help but notice the warmth that seemed to wash over him at the sound of her comment. That look of pride that graced his face was enough to break her heart. "As for your injury it has and never will bother me. It is a badge of honor after serving and fighting courageously for King and country. You saved the life of our employer. And I expect to see those medals at some point now that I am home," she reminded him.

"Yes, yes, I know," he added with a wink. "Anything else I should be aware of?"

"I love how you love me. How everything you've done has always been to protect me, preserve my honor, and treat me like a lady."

"But you are a lady to me. And I've never known a finer one," he said as they swayed back and forth to the music.

She smiled at his remark and allowed him to lead her a little more around the dance floor.

John hadn't just danced through one song, but several. He found he was rather good at it once he got back in the swing of things. And the look on his wife's face was reward enough for his efforts. They sat through the family's rendition of Silent Night and a few chords of Mary's performance of Come All Ye' Faithful before they quietly slipped out undetected.

John pulled her closer as he led her over to his arm chair. He kept his eyes on her, the path to the chair already memorized in his mind. "Did I ever tell you how incredibly beautiful you looked this evening?" John asked his eyes filled with mirth.

"You did. Though I wouldn't hold it against you to hear it once more, my husband," Anna said with a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Then I shall tell you every hour on the hour, if it brings you such pleasure," he promised between kisses. John took a seat and patted his knee in silent invitation for her to join him. As always, she lowered herself with caution so as not to put too much weight on his knee. She allowed her body to ease against his and became comfortable with her head resting upon his shoulder as his fingers caressed and teased at the skin of her arm. He helped her unlatch the buckles of her shoes while massaging the muscles of her supple calves and she groaned in delight. The feeling all too tempting and familiar but most definitely missed. In their own little slice of heaven they took joy in reacquainting themselves.

Anna had already begun to work on his tie and removing his waistcoat when his hand came up to stop her ministrations. "As much as I am thoroughly enjoying this and all that is to come. I have to give you your Christmas gift. You can open the rest tomorrow. But I wanted to give you this one when you came home," John said adamantly. He began to rummage in his trouser pocket and pulled out a small gift.

Anna wouldn't deny that she was disappointed they had to slow down for a moment, but she was rather excited at the prospect of opening a gift. "But I didn't get you anything," she quickly pointed out.

"You didn't have to. You are my greatest gift: past, present, and future. I could not want for more," John said with boyish eyes. "Now, please open your gift," he urged. His hand lingered on her back, tracing the patterns of braids in her bun. His eyes were eagerly awaiting her response to such a gift.

"It's awfully small," she commented.

"Sometimes, big things come in small packages," he hinted.

Anna tore away at the paper and found a small replica of a house constructed out of matchboxes with ribbon looped around the top. "An ornament?" she guessed.

"Sort of," he responded. John used his much larger hands to delicately pry the top of the house off for her. "This is to our future," John added.

"I don't understand," she replied. Anna looked back at her husband who was slumped in his chair like an adorable teddy bear.

"Look inside."

Anna's much smaller fingers dug inside the tiny house ornament and pulled out a small piece of paper that was rolled up neatly and unfurled it. When she read it to herself he saw the expression on her face change in silent understanding. "You sold it? You sold your mother's house?" she asked aloud.

"I did. I had already asked the tenants about it years ago but they didn't have the funds and you weren't ready to leave yet," he said not wanting to bring up that old skeleton. "As soon as I heard from Mr. Murray they were releasing you I made some calls and arrangements and they bought the house. We can start making plans to start our hotel just like we've always dreamed of. No excuses this time," he said with a pointy finger.

"I've never been so happy in my whole life," Anna said with a smile.

John let the pad of his thumb sweep across her cheek before her kissed her deeply. The passion building with each passing second. He could eventually contain himself no more and lifted her up with him as he rose from the chair; her stocking-clad feet dangling above the ground as he carried her up the stairs. John Bates had every intention of making their time together count and it started with properly welcoming his wife home.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: I know this is coming later than I planned. I had debated on adding an epilogue because it seemed to end well where it was on the last chapter. But who wouldn't want a little baby bates fluff? I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Please review :)**_

_**Part V**_

John had just finished taking care of the last guests checking in at the hotel for the evening. He held his coat tightly to his waist to keep out the bitter cold as it played at his knee. Thankfully, the snow wasn't so deep that he was having difficulty navigating his way home, but he was careful nonetheless. John could already see the Christmas lights of their little tree glowing through the sitting room window from his walk on the garden path. He reached the door and quietly made his way inside before removing his bowler hat and coat.

John wondered if Anna had waited up for him, she usually did, but he knew she had been so tired as of late. It wouldn't have surprised him if she was already fast asleep. His question was immediately answered when he heard the faint sound of laughter coming from the washroom upstairs. A smile played on his face. Laughter had become a familiar sound in their little house as did singing. They were sounds that were so longed for by the both of them for so many years. It wasn't as if they had never experienced them before but they had come so few and far between every obstacle that they had to conquer. Now it seemed there were no obstacles, or at least none that they couldn't handle. The laughter and smiles came more easily and frequently and it warmed their hearts to know that such happiness was possible.

He had just begun to sit down and remove his shoes when he heard the sound of the washroom door open followed by Anna's voice pleading, "Samuel, no. Darling, stay here with Mama so she can finish drying you off."

Her request was met with a series of squeals that could only be one person. A little hellion if there ever was one, being sure to keep Anna and John on their toes at all times. Anna insisted he took after his father. John argued otherwise. Clearly they had a little rebel on their hands, but Samuel had a sweet nature about him that allowed them to overlook the occasional outburst. After all he was still little and both parents were told this behavior wasn't uncommon at such an age. John's eyes raised to follow the sound of foot steps bouncing off the ceiling and sure enough their little boy came galloping down the stairs naked as the day he was born. Samuel ran at full speed once he spotted his father and his tiny weight crushed against John with arms wide open to wrap him in a hug. The toddler was still partially wet from his bath and covered in suds, but John didn't seem to mind as he placed a gentle kiss on the lad's forehead. John wrapped him in a blanket from the back of the settee not wanting him to catch himself a cold. "Good evening, Sammy boy," John greeted him.

"Papa," Samuel exclaimed with endless love in his eyes. And what beautiful eyes they were. Slightly darker than his own, but hazel all the same. Their little boy had thick, brown hair and long, lanky legs. Samuel had taken after his father with cherub cheeks and thick eyebrows, but had managed to get Anna's smile. A feature that John was more than happy had been inherited from his beautiful wife.

"Samuel Bates. You are supposed to be in your pajamas," Anna's voice echoed through the house with a scornful tone.

John's eyes met with Sam's at the same time, "Were you not listening to Mama today?"

"Uh oh," Sam responded.

"Yes, a big uh oh," John said trying to keep a straight face. He certainly didn't want to encourage their little one's misbehavior but it was so hard to stay mad at that face.

"I thought I heard you come in the door," Anna announced as she descended the stairs. "I tried to get him to wait for me to finish tidying up in the washroom, but he shuffled right past me and out the door."

John could tell she had been running herself ragged even though he had told her numerous times before she shouldn't hesitate to call him if she needed a moment to herself. Her braid hung loosely down her back, a few fly away hairs framed her face, but she had never looked more gorgeous to him. His eyes travelled up to see the angelic look on her face and he smiled lovingly up at her. John's eyes then looked to the other source of joy in his life nestled within Anna's arms and on the verge of sleep, their precious Ada.

"I'm surprised they needed a bath so late in the evening," John remarked.

"You need look no further than your lap for the cause of the change in routine," she replied with a small smile.

"What's all this about?" he asked seeking a response from his son.

"Someone thought they would try their hand at baking today," Anna replied. She was combing her fingers through Ada's thin, blonde hair. "I didn't want to argue with him, God only knows it gets worse when I try to refute him," she added.

John could tell it was a bit of a battle at times when it came to their son, but he also knew their was love underneath the surface of her words.

"I set aside a little spot at the table for each of them to help me roll out the dough for the pies I was making tomorrow. It was all going fine until Samuel thought he needed more flour. I was finishing with the laundry and told him to wait a minute, but your son…"

"Suddenly he's my son whenever he's getting into trouble," John thought to himself.

"Patience is not in his vocabulary. He kept insisting, 'I can manage'. Now who do you suppose he got that from?" she chided her husband and laughed as his cheeks turned red in response.

"Honestly, John. How am I supposed to argue with that, when his own father is no better?" Anna inquired.

John couldn't hide the pride-filled smile that graced his face. Their son certainly was an independent little thing.

Anna continued with her story, "The next thing I know the kitchen was covered in a plume of flour. Thankfully it didn't get on the laundry, but the kitchen was in total disarray."

"I'm sorry, love," John apologized both for himself and on his son's behalf. "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"I know he didn't. He apologized already," she said.

"Sowwy, Mama," Samuel said as he copied his father.

And even though she had nothing to do with it, not long after came the same apology from Ada, "Me too."

John and Anna shared a laughed over their children.

_John had never imagined himself a father, let alone a father of two. To say that they were surprised to find out Anna was having twins was an understatement. And so soon after they had purchased their little hotel by the sea. But after all they had been through and so many years of waiting, their shock was short lived and quickly turned to joy. Of course, John worried constantly, not only about his ability to keep up with two children but for Anna as well. After all she wasn't as young as most first time mothers were and it wasn't common for women to have twins. John wasn't a medical expert by any means, but he knew carrying one child was hard enough on a woman; two couldn't be any easier. But if there was anyone that could get through it, it was his Anna._

_Anna made pregnancy look like an art form. Even on days when she insisted she had never felt or looked worse he still thought she was positively glowing and made sure to say so. He loved how Anna sounded as she read and sang to her belly. John would catch her gently caressing her stomach through her dress or nightgown and wonder what it must be like to already have some unspoken connection with their unborn child. It wasn't until he got to experience it for himself as he rest his hand across her small bump one night in their bed that it hit him. He was going to be a father. John Bates had some part in creating something spectacular, something that was completely unspoiled._

_His Anna had always been the strong one; always been the one with unending faith. Yet when she went into labour the first thing Anna did was speak his name in a way she never had before. It was a combination of fear and concern. "John," Anna managed to say as she sought out his hand and stared into his eyes with tears in her own._

_"I'm here my darling," John had assured her as he entered the room and kissed the knuckles of the small fist she made._

_Anna breathed through the pain that seemed to stretch across her belly and settle into her lower back. When she was able to find a moment of relief she took the opportunity to confess to John that she was petrified._

_Though everything in his head was mirroring her emotions, John pushed it aside and found a way to be what she needed him to be in that moment. "My darling, everything is going to be just fine. You'll see."_

_"Do you never doubt?" she asked through the pain. Anna bit down on her lower lip and squeezed his hand a little tighter as she let out a breath._

_"No," John replied as he let his free hand settle on her stomach and pushed a loose hair out of the way. His eyes were filled with nothing but love and hope for their future that was finally beginning a new chapter. "And I don't doubt that the sun will rise in the east either," he said with a smile. John kissed her hand and stroked her cheek. "I love you, Anna May Bates. You'll get through this and when the day is over we'll have our babies."_

_She smiled back at him through her tears and was ushered up the stairs by Mrs. Hughes and the local doctor. Anna had put on a brave face and managed a smile for him. It had been hours of grueling pain for her; each groan and moan set his teeth on edge. His stomach turned as he pictured what she must be going through in that moment and hated himself for putting her in that position. As the hours ticked by he became more nervous, wondering how much longer this could continue and how much longer Anna's strength would hold out. For the first time in years he prayed. Prayed that she found relief sooner rather than later. Prayed that she made it out of this in one piece and that both of their babies were healthy. Her wails finally subsided and he heard the sound of a small cry pierce the air. Time stood still for John as he waited for some word of the condition of his wife and children._

_He was granted permission to join her a few moments later and when he did, John found his wife sat up in bed being examined by the doctor. Still smiling but tired. His eyes then scoured the room for some sign of their babies and he found them both, one each in the arms of Mrs. Hughes and the doctor's assistant. He had never been more grateful for her presence in their lives. Around the time they announced their intentions of leaving Downton to start their hotel venture, Mrs. Hughes decided it was time for her to retire as a housekeeper. But her connection with Anna had never been stronger and so she had proposed that she come along to help them manage the hotel. John secretly suspected that she was rather hopeful for a chance to play the role of grandmother to their children since she would never have the opportunity in any other case. She loved Anna like a daughter so it had only seemed natural._

_"Congratulations, Mr. Bates," Mrs. Hughes said in her Scottish brogue with all the makings of a new grandmother, "You have a son."_

_"I...I have a son," John replied, though it came out as more of a question._

_"That you do. And he's in fine shape," she added as her fingers tucked the blanket a little tighter around the baby. "See for yourself," Mrs. Hughes encouraged as she placed the baby into John's arms._

_He was smaller than John had anticipated, though they were warned that was often the case with twins. But she was right. "Fine shape indeed," John muttered to himself as he took in the sight of his little boy._

_"Let's not forget your little girl, either," the assistant commented as she brought the other bundle of joy over for John to hold._

_"One of each?" John asked in utter amazement. When his eyes returned to Anna, she was the picture of pride as she watched her husband get acquainted with their children. "Oh Anna, they are more than perfect," he said barely able to tear his eyes away from their babies. "You're brilliant. You know that?" John said with a smile that refused to go away._

_Anna blushed and bit back a smile. "Well, it's not as if I did this all on my own, Mr. Bates," she teased._

_For once he didn't argue with her. He would indulge her and himself. John was going to take credit for something he had done and not argue with his wife about it. "I know," he responded simply. John couldn't stop staring; he was still completely enamoured and without a doubt besotted with his wife. Never in a million years did he think he'd hold her favor the way he did, that he'd fall in love with someone as beautiful and kind as Anna or that she would love him back. Never had he expected her to stand by him through everything life threw at them. Least of all he hadn't thought it possible to have the future they had now._

_"Now, stop thinking of how you are going to thank me and come join me," she said as she gently pat the spot next to her on the bed. "I want to share this moment with you and see my angels."_

_Without a moment's hesitation John brought their little ones over to Anna. He handed their little boy off to her and got to watch Anna fall in love with him. "I should have known that a younger man would steal you away from me someday," he joked._

_"Can you blame me?" Anna added as she ran a finger across her son's cheek. Their little boy wriggled in response to her touch and let out an exasperated sigh accompanied by an angry scowl. "Look at that face."_

_"I don't know, this one is giving him some stiff competition," John fired back. Their little girl was not nearly as restless as her brother was. No, in fact, she seemed rather content to just continue laying in John's arms, nestled against his chest. She had long eyelashes, pouty lips, and the daintiest fingers John had ever seen. His little girl would be a heartbreaker for sure._

_"Are we still settled on the names we decided on before?" she asked with a playful nudge in his direction. The two of them still marvelling at what their love had managed to create._

_"I think so," he answered back. "What do you think, Ada?" John asked and their baby stirred at the sound of his voice. "I think she likes it."_

_"I think she likes you more," Anna observed._

_"Only like?"_

_"Well..." she let her voice trail off to tease him._

_John gave Anna a warning look._

_"Of course she loves you. You're her father after all."_

_"That's true," John said. "Who'd of thought? John Bates, father of two."_

_"I did. I always knew I wanted my babies to look like you," Anna answered back with unwavering faith and devotion._

_"I know you did. And I love you all the more for it, my darling," he replied before leaning forward to kiss her deeply. Their two children wrapped safely between them. Their little world had never felt more complete._

_It all seemed like lifetimes ago. They had waited so long for their two blessings to come into their lives that it had only seemed natural that time should pass slowly once they arrived. But that was not the case. Quite the opposite in fact. John often found himself trying to slow time down to get more stolen moments with his wife and children. Samuel and Ada had taught John to stop and look around, smell the roses. It seemed that every new experience for them he was seeing it for the first time. He never forgot that horrible dream of a life without Anna, a life without their children. It just didn't seem like a life worth living or not living for that matter._

_It had been hard saying goodbye to the world they had come to know and love. The abbey where they had first met and fell in love. The courtyard where they had exchanged secrets and kisses. As well as the cottage that had seen the early days of their marriage. Yes, they had fallen on hard times, but as they watched the spires of Downton disappear from sight, the good memories suddenly outweighed the bad. The two of them looked desperately homesick as they pulled away from the station and left it all behind to start their lives anew. A life governed by rules and decorum. One that was dictated by the whim of a Lord or Lady and managed by the chime of a bell._

_The moment of uneasiness subsided as their hotel came into view. They sought out one another's hand as they had so many other times for strength and support. They let out a deep breath and smiled at one another as they prepared themselves for what lay ahead. John reminded himself that no matter what, at the end of the day they had each other. And that was more than enough. He wouldn't allow himself to fail at this. It meant too much to them both and after years of strife he was going to provide Anna with the life she deserved. The life they both deserved._

_They celebrated each milestone of their thriving business as well as each development of Anna's pregnancy. Mrs. Hughes arrival proved to be helpful not only for Anna but for John in running the hotel. And when their children arrived they couldn't think of a better candidate to be a godmother to their children._

_How amusing it was to them now. They thought they had escaped the life of servitude. Only now their lives were dictated by the whims of their children. It was difficult at times but John couldn't imagine waiting hand and foot on anyone else but them and he suspected that Anna felt much the same way. The hotel also came with its own demands but atleast they had more free time to themselves._

"Papa, wead?" Ada asked in a small voice as she pointed to one of her favorite books.

"Of course Papa will read," John answered back with a lopsided smile. He dared to correct his daughter but he also knew how much he would miss her mispronunciations when they all but disappeared.

"Yay!" Ada exclaimed as she clapped her tiny hands together.

Their little girl looked so much like Anna sometimes it took his breath away. Ada had a quiet disposition so much like his own, but the most sweet and helpful nature he had ever encountered since his wife. It boggled the mind how she was so opposite from her brother; a child that demanded to be heard. It wasn't as if Samuel wasn't capable of such compassion; quite the opposite. John often worried that their son was too much like him. Samuel's reactions were often ruled more by his heart than his brain. Nearly four years old, he was already showing signs of being over protective of his sister and willing to do anything for her.

Anna would often remind John, he was still little and that turning out like his father wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to Samuel.

"Shall we read now or open some presents?" John asked enthusiastically. He had never given much thought to the idea of Christmas before meeting Anna. Every Christmas that had preceded it had been less than memorable or one he would have rather forgotten. Excluding the Christmas they had spent apart while John was imprisoned, every holiday with Anna had only gotten better with the passage of time.

"John, Father Christmas won't be here until after the children have gone to bed," she pointed out.

"True, but one or two presents from Mama and Papa couldn't hurt. After all they've been very good this year, haven't you my little loves?" John argued as he looked down at Samuel.

Sometimes John could be just as bad as their children when Christmas rolled around. He was so eager to see the look on their children's faces as they opened their gifts that he was always quick to break the rules. Anna supposed it was because he had never gotten the chance to experience a Christmas morning the way their children would at that age. No matter what limits they set for their spending, John always felt the need to go overboard and thoroughly spoil them. Still, Anna could be just as bad. "Alright," she finally gave in.

John shot off a victorious smile.

"But just one," she added in a warning tone.

"Just one is good enough for us," John responded gleefully as he lifted Samuel up into the air and placed kisses on the little boy's cheeks. Samuel laughed in response and kicked his legs wildly in an attempt to escape his father's grip.

Anna extended her free arm out and handed John a set of pajamas for Samuel. She smiled easily as she watched her husband dress their little boy for bed. Anna had suspected early on in her pregnancy that John would be an involved father. The way he doted on her and made so many plans for their future with their children was all the proof she needed. But it never ceased to amaze her how willing he was to do the things that most fathers wouldn't. John had confessed to her on more than one occasion he had to do more than the average father because he knew there would be things he couldn't do that most fathers could. Whatever the reason may be, she was very glad for it. John helped with feedings when they were infants, changed nappies, paced the floor with them through fevers; and bathed their children. Anna had never thought it possible to love her husband more than she did the day she married John. She was happily proven wrong. Every time she caught her husband sharing a moment teaching their children something or showering them with love she fell even more in love with him.

"Alright then little love, you sit here on the settee next to Mama and Ada, and Papa will go get your presents," he instructed Samuel.

"Pwesents?" Ada asked.

"Yes, my dearest. Presents," John answered back. He set Samuel down next to Anna and pat his son lovingly on the head before kissing Ada's forehead.

Anna cleared her throat, "And where is mine?"

"Your present is later my darling," John responded.

Anna gave him a cheeky smile. "I meant my kiss."

"Oh that. I think I have one of those for you as well," John answered back. He dipped down low to meet her lips and felt his heart soar at the instant contact. He could feel her smile against his lips and it was in moments like these John was certain he had never been happier.

"Get on with your duties, these two will only be held at bay for so long with promises of presents," Anna teased.

John stepped outside onto the porch where he had placed the children's gifts earlier. He had made sure to keep them well hidden in the office of the hotel. John carried a small parcel in under his arm and handed it to Ada. She seemed all too content with the shiny paper and ribbon that adorned the box for now. He stepped outside once more to grab a bigger package and set it down on the floor in front of Samuel.

Anna scrunched her brow in confusion; having helped John pick out all the gifts for the children she wasn't sure what these gifts were. "What's this?" she asked curiously.

"You'll have to wait and see when they open them."

"But we already spent enough," she said.

"I know. But they're only little once and it's been a good year for our business," he argued back sweetly. John placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles. His rough lips brushing against her smooth skin for longer than he intended, but he simply could not get enough of her.

"Well, let's not keep them waiting then," she said with a smile. Anna was just as anxious to see what John had chosen for them on his own.

It took little encouragement for Samuel to tear into his own toy and Ada followed along with some help from Anna. John sat beside their daughter on the settee as Samuel unveiled a small blue tricycle. "Wook, Mama! Wook!" he shouted triumphantly.

"I see," Anna replied immediately.

"It's blue!" he added with vigor.

"Yes, looks like Papa picked it out in your favorite color," she commented.

"I like blue," Samuel responded emphatically.

"We know, son," John said with a chuckle.

"What is it?" Samuel asked.

Both parents laughed. Apparently their little boy had been so wrapped up in the size of the gift and the color that he hadn't given any thought to what the gift actually was. "It's a bicycle for you, Sammy boy," John answered back. "Something for you to burn off that excess energy," John muttered under his breath. The comment had earned him a small snort from his wife.

"You mean something for me to be worried about as my son is doing laps up and down the lane," Anna chimed in.

John had to smile at the way she was always so concerned for the children. "He'll be fine. He's a boy. Let him live a little," John encouraged. "I'll teach him how to ride properly, he'll be in safe hands. I promise."

Before Anna had a chance to fire back with a comment their conversation was interrupted by their son. "Thank you," Samuel said as John picked him up and set the boy down on the seat of the tricycle.

"You're welcome my boy," John answered back. "Don't forget to thank, Mama."

Samuel hopped off the bike long enough to climb up onto the settee and throw his arms around Anna's neck. "Thank you, Mama."

"Of course my sweetheart." She said before leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek. Samuel scrunched his face in response and wiped at the spot where her lips had met.

Ada began to get fussy as she waited for her turn.

"And with that I think it's time for Ada's gift," Anna said.

Samuel quickly lost interest and turned his attentions back to his tricycle. He let out a groan when John reached for him.

"Now Sam…" John picked the boy up and set him on his lap, "...it's Ada's turn."

Anna began to help Ada with the ribbon. "What could it be my little love?"

"I'da know," Ada said.

As Anna removed the last of the wrapping paper she couldn't help but notice the spark in John's eyes as he watched their baby girl unveil her gift. He was sure Ada would love it. She had talked of nothing else for the past few months since Ada and Sam had gone back to the Abbey to visit with Lady Mary. Lady Mary's newest addition, Albert had just arrived and Ada was consumed with the idea of a baby. It didn't take long for her to start asking Anna if they could "get" a baby and while he was sure Anna would love nothing more than another baby, other children never arrived despite their attempts. While he couldn't imagine starting over with a third child at his age, John would have done it if he knew it was what would make Anna happy. He only hoped this would quell Ada's desires for now.

"Baby!" she exclaimed. Her small hands gently smacked against the box with excitement. Their daughter's face lit up unlike they had ever seen it and John was certain the two of them would never forget this Christmas.

"Oh Ada, look. She looks just like you," Anna pointed out as she caressed the doll's hair.

"My baby," Ada said with a broad grin as she pointed to herself.

John removed the doll with care and handed it to Ada. "Here you go my angel."

Ada immediately squeezed the doll tightly and snuggled up against it before placing a kiss on it's cheek. "She's pwetty."

"Yes, she is. Just like you," John replied as he doted on his daughter.

"What's hers name?" Samuel asked as his small hand tugged on Anna's skirt to get her attention..

"I don't know," Anna answered her son, "Ada will have to pick one."

"Can I see?" Samuel asked.

"I'm sure Ada will let you. Ask nicely and wait your turn," Anna reminded him.

"Pwease," spoke up towards his sister.

"Here, Sam," Ada responded as she showed him her newest treasure. "Happy Christmas."

John looked over at Anna and saw happy tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't felt tears of his own welling up in his throat. His children had brought new meaning to his life just as their mother had. His love for them grew exponentially with every new achievement and discovery. And watching Anna with their babies was no different; she had flourished as a mother, seeing her with their children was eye opening. She was now who she was always meant to be.

While the visit from his mother five years ago wasn't always at the front of his mind, the memory never really left either. It had all felt so real and yet it couldn't be. But John didn't question it. That visit was all the reminder he needed to realize his true value and place in the world. The friendships and relationships he had formed along the way had taken on new meaning and for the first time in his life John felt like a success; someone he knew his mother would have been proud of. It had been a long road but John finally had the life he'd always dreamed of. He was truly blessed.

"John?"

"Hmm," he said with a shake of his head. John had been so lost in thought he hadn't even realized Anna was speaking to him.

"Where were you just now?"

"No where. Just thinking this is the best Christmas I've ever had," he said with a genuine smile.

Anna looked at him longingly. She bit back a smile as a flash of what was to come tonight crossed her mind. "Come on, let's get these two off to bed, Mrs. Hughes will be over tomorrow to celebrate with us and she's bringing Mr. Carson with her."

"Well that will be exciting."

"Yes, it will be. But not as exciting as what I have in store for us," Anna answered back with a wicked grin.

John couldn't help but be overcome with love for this beautiful creature that still made him feel younger with every lingering smile and cherished beyond belief. With that John eagerly picked up Samuel and followed her up the stairs as she carried Ada. Their little family brought him immeasurable joy and nestled within their warm, quaint cottage at their hotel by the sea life was complete and full of possibilities.


End file.
