A/N: Based on the heartwrenching end to the CS, last year. A little idea floated into my head, I decided that I wanted Matthew to live (I'm sure we all did!) and that he had to deliver some news to his own child...Read as you wish.

September 1943

Everything was perfect.

Violet Crawley had her daughter and her husband; a happy family they would be indeed.

Nothing could be more perfect in the world, could it?

One thing Matthew Crawley didn't like doing as a father, was giving bad news to someone when it was meant to be a happy time; he was meant to be dancing the jig at the fact that now he had three beautiful grandchildren, not telling his eldest daughter that her husband had been killed.

He ran a hand through his hair, not a grey tint in sight; he took a deep breath before slowing walking towards the doorway of his daughter's room.

He stood in the doorway and gazed at his daughter and her child; how happy she looked, he didn't want to do this to her; he couldn't.

"Papa?" She had noticed him and smiled.

He smiled weakly, taking small steps towards her.

The smile fell off her face, when she noticed his solemn look. "Papa, what's happened?"

Matthew sighed heavily, sitting down at the side of her bed to look her directly in the eyes.

Violet was the image of his wife, so wonderfully intelligent, shatteringly beautiful but so incredibly stubborn.

"Sweetheart, I need you to be calm" His voice went hoarse, he could feel tears forming the back of his eyes; he brushed a finger over his granddaughter's soft cheek.

"Just tell me" The fear rose in her voice, her arms were shaking.

"Henry was killed"

The room fell silent, the small cooing noises of the baby wrapped white blankets called her back to reality.

Violet looked to her daughter. "No"

"Vi, please darling. You don't know how sorry I am" Matthew touched his daughter's arm gently.

"How?" Violet focused on her daughter.

"Car accident. They said he suffered the same injuries I did, only force of impact was greater"

Only had she forgotten that her father had suffered a similar crash, when Robbie was born; only that he had suffered a few broken bones and a scratch to the head.

Violet stayed silent; Matthew, at a loss decided to walk out the room and sat down in the foyer.

He could hear the piercing wail of his daughter, he placed his head in his hands and began to sob.

He felt the arms of his wife come around his shoulders, as she sat down beside him.

"The worst is over, darling. She knows" She took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly on the lips, kissing away the pain for the moment;

2 weeks later

Violet sat in bed with the covers up to hips, cradling her little girl her arms; her older brother sat in the chair beside her bed; his son, Matty sat beside his aunt; besotted with his little cousin.

"How did the funeral go?" Violet asked gently, glancing up at her brother.

"Bleak, he has a gravestone. The one you wanted for him" Robert said, before gently batting away Matty's attempt to kiss his cousin on the head for the third time.

Violet nodded slowly. "He always wanted a simple life, so it seemed that he would need a simple ending"

Robert bowed his head slightly, carefully watching as his sister placed his niece into his son's small arms.

Matty, short for Matthew; was a charming boy, only 18 months old; he was able to run around the grounds of the house at top speed, talk to his parents in small but clever conversations.

"Whats her name?" Matty asked innocently, at a loss as his cousin squirmed a little before settling.

Violet looked to her nephew then to brother, then down at her daughter. "I was waiting for Henry, but I'd be waiting a long time" she chuckled bitterly.

Violet decided to go down to dinner with her brother, leaving the two young Crawley cousins on her bed.

"I know what you should call her" Matty said, as his aunt placed his cousin in his arms again when the family were sat in the drawing room.

The family raised an eyebrow.

"What should she be called then Matt?" His Uncle Michael said.

Matty's eyes moved to his grandmother, sitting so beautifully beside his grandfather.

The young Crawley heir kissed his cousin's nose then her cheek.

"Mary" He whispered.

The room fell silent, all eyes fell onto him. Matty felt the need to tell his family, what he'd named his young cousin.

"Mary" He paused.

"My Mary"