So this is a collection of drabbles from my Tumblr (hufflepuffhermione). A few people requested that I put my drabbles on , so here I am doing that! This first one is set in an AU where Mary and Matthew are married during the war. The prompt was 'I thought you were dead'. It would make me very happy if you reviewed! :)
I Thought You Were Dead
When the telegram comes, she can't quite believe it.
Captain Matthew Crawley; Missing, presumed dead.
She's always been pragmatic. False hope is a deterrent to life. But she won't believe it. Not until it's sure.
Everyone else is hopeless. They all look at Mary with sad eyes, as if she is a child with no concept of reality.
Two weeks, after the telegram arrives, she finds out that she is pregnant. In a way, it's a relief, especially to her father. There is a chance for an heir.
It's hard for Mary, but she knows that this child will be the last gift Matthew gives her, and she will do whatever for it.
Months pass, and Mary settles into acceptance. But there is still a glimmer of hope hiding in the deepest recesses of the heart she claims is absent.
By the time her child, a tiny boy with bright blue eyes, is born, she has come to peace with it.
Mostly. Every time she looks into those eyes, she remembers Matthew, and her heart betrays her and flutters with a hope that she has tried to push away.
The war ends a few days after her son is born. That day, she cries more than he does.
It's a cold, sunny day when she takes a walk a few weeks later, her son in her arms. She sits on the bench-their bench-and keeps him held tightly to her chest.
Sybil comes running out to Mary, her cheeks ruddy and her eyes gleaming. "Mary!" she calls. "Come to the hospital right away! Bring the baby, too."
Mary's first thought is to be afraid, but Sybil is so excited that any apprehension melts away. She climbs in the car and anxiously waits as Branson drives to the hospital.
She is led through the doors, not knowing what to expect. Sybil takes her arm and brings her right in front of a bed.
The first thing she sees are the eyes. Her son's eyes. His eyes.
Matthew is alive.
He's incredibly pale, even more thin, and he looks bruised and ill. But alive.
Mary doesn't know what to say for a minute. She doesn't even feel Sybil take her son out of her arms.
When it registers, she throws her arms around him, and sobs on his shoulder for a good few minutes.
"I thought you were dead," she cries, lifting her head to look at his. She laughs through her tears; there is nothing else she can do. "You're not dead!" She kisses him, and doesn't stop until she is out of breath.
"I'm not dead," Matthew said. His grin was bigger than she had ever seen. "A little worse for wear, but I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."
"Thank goodness," Mary rasps, kissing him yet again. She lets out a shuddering breath. "There is someone you must meet."
She takes her son from Sybil and gives him to Matthew. "This is your son. He's three weeks old."
Matthew's face lit up even more when the baby boy was placed in his arms. "My son?"
"I found out two weeks after we thought you were dead."
"I didn't ever thinkā¦"
She laughs. "He's ours. And he looks just like you."
"What is his name?" Matthew asks.
"I haven't named him yet," Mary admits. "I couldn't decide. I didn't know, since we never talked about this. Maybe I had a feeling?"
Matthew wipes a tear from his eye. "We'll discuss it later then. He's perfect. I'm afraid I won't be a great father at the moment, I'm still recovering from being a prisoner."
"It's enough that you're here. It's more than enough that you're alive