Chapter Text
He had vague awareness- unconsolidated memories of something pressed against his forehead repeatedly, and voices- maybe- saying his name, though he couldn’t quite hear it, stuck between consciousness and otherwise. The room spun for a moment and then there was pressure everywhere, his wrists hurt enough nearly to wake him, if only he didn’t feel so heavy. Another black period, and then there was movement... he was being manhandled, presumably, and he wanted to tell whomever it was to stop, leave him alone, he wasn’t ready to wake up yet. But he was locked inside of himself, and no rational reason could be found to try and push his mind to work any faster than it was.
The journey took hours, endless swaying and discomfort, for a moment he might have been sick. Then careful movements that were like lightning bolts in his rag-doll body. He felt cold, very cold; couldn’t feel the ends of his hands or feet, wanted warmth and comfort- and blankets- he couldn’t open his eyes to see but he didn’t question the cover when it came, couldn’t move himself from lying useless on his back.
When Thomas woke he remembered nothing, only lying in the bath and then magically appearing in pyjamas in his bed.
For a moment he panicked- shite I’m late Mr Carson’s goin’ to kill me- but pain shot up his arm and he curled onto his side, remembering what he’d done. Someone must have found him, then. Someone had stopped him. A wash of relief- I’m still alive thank God I’m alive an’ I can think this now- everything seemed manageable. But it was mixed with a bitter sort of disappointment. Nothing had changed. He was still alone. He was still jobless and homeless and rotten to the core.
Thomas opened his eyes and took stock. I never thought I’d see my room again. Noticed the tight bandages around his wrists. He had done it, then. Or tried too.
Baxter was sitting on the same chair Jimmy once had, watching his face anxiously.
“Mr Barrow?”
“I’m awake.” He didn’t move, looked back at his wrists, couldn’t face her. “Did you...?”
“We found you just in time. What were you thinking, doing something like that?”
Thomas swallowed. “I don’t... I don’t know. I wasn’t. Or...” he muttered, “I was tryin’ not to.”
Baxter looked at him for a long moment. “You’re tired. You need to rest- I’ll fetch Doctor Clarkson now you’re awake- I’ll be right back- don’t...”
“’m not goin’ anywhere. Can hardly sit up.” Reassuring her he wasn’t going to try and kill himself again in the next thirty seconds was not a pleasant sensation.
Thomas held himself together, firmly biting his lip until the doctor came in.
“Mr Barrow- you’re awake. Good. That’s good. You’ve lost a lot of blood, Mr Barrow, and I’ve given you eleven stitches on either side.” He came and stood by the bed.
“I’m afraid you’re going to be feeling weak for the next few days, and I insist that you do not try to leave your bed for at least the next three.” He glanced at Baxter. “And remain under supervision until further notice.”
Thomas nodded.
“I’ve instructed Miss Baxter on how to change your dressings, which should be every evening and morning for the next two days, and afterwards only during the day. I’ll return to remove the stitches in a week. Unfortunately, wounds of this kind are likely to leave scars, but for now the important factor is that you survived.”
Thomas nodded again.
“Mr Barrow... might I ask why you attempted this act? It seems strange, for a man of your character... dealing with physical alliments may be what I’m trained in, but I highly recommend talking about what went wrong for you to endeavour to do this, if you hope to recover fully.”
Thomas fiddled with his sleeve. “I jus’ thought... well, I thought it’d be easier. Wouldn’t have anythin’ to worry about any more- I... don’t know why, exactly. It jus’ seemed like the only option.”
“Suicide is never the easy way out. I’ll prescribe you some laudanum in the mean time… You won’t try this again, left to your own devices?”
“No.” Thomas shook his head. “I can see things a little differently now... think I’d like to try feelin’ better, instead.”
“Good. Well, I’ll inform Mr Carson of everything I told you- you’ll be glad to hear no one apart from Andrew, Baxter, he and Mrs Hughes are aware- the rest won’t be informed.”
“Right.” Thomas nodded, a prickly feeling in his shoulders growing at the thought of everyone knowing his business. What he’d failed to do.
“Persevere, Mr Barrow.” Doctor Clarkson put his hat on. “Life can never be as bad as you think. You need some time, and a change in perspective. Miss Baxter.” He nodded to her and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
“How did you find me?” Thomas kept his eyes on the closed door. “I mean, how did you know I...”
“Something Mr Molesley said.” Baxter dragged the chair closer to the bed and sat in it. “I just... knew something was wrong- I ran back here as soon as I could- praying you hadn’t done anything silly... Andrew and I broke the door down and... found you. With Mrs Hughes’ help we attended your wounds, undressed you,” Thomas squirmed, “and put you to bed.”
“Suppose the family know too, an’ all.” He picked at his sleeve and Baxter put her hand over his.
“Why did you do it, Mr Barrow? I know you- you’ve never been defeated in your life. I wish you’d spoken up if you were so unhappy.”
“Who would have listened, ey?” Thomas scoffed. “Nobody cares about me or what happens to me- Mr Carson was throwing me out like unwanted rubbish- an’ leavin’ here after all I’ve been through, I...” his voice cracked and he broke off, fighting the tears furiously as he glared at his lap. “I felt like I were all on me own, an’ I didn’t want to worry about m’self anymore. That’s why.” He scrubbed his eye with the corner of the sleeve and shrugged his shoulders when Baxter squeezed his hand. She bent forward and put her arm around him, putting his head on her shoulder.
“Now you stop thinking like this. There are plenty of people here who care about you- you’re only alone when you want to be, Mr Barrow- and when I found you...” She put her hand to her mouth for a moment and took a breath, “I certainly would have mourned and missed you, and don’t you dare think otherwise. Anna was beside herself- Mrs Hughes- I’ve never seen her so worried, even Andy wouldn’t leave your bedside until Mr Carson insisted he served dinner- and that took quite some convincing.” Thomas pulled away and smiled weakly at her, tugging his sleeves down.
Baxter cleared her throat. “Now- you mustn’t be ashamed of yourself- you are going to focus on recovering and that means no more of these melancholy thoughts.”
“Thank you.” Thomas half-smiled. “Thank you for rescuin’ me. Thank you for stayin’ here with me. I didn’t think anyone would. I suppose I was wrong.” He cleared his throat. “Would you telephone my sister, tell her to rip up the letter I sent when it gets there, let her know I’m alright?”
“Of course I will.” She smiled at him and Thomas shifted to sit up, wincing as his arms took the strain and the wounds were pulled tight. He wondered what they’d look like. If he’d ever be able to pretend it had never happened.
“How did you convince Mr Carson to let you stay?” He swallowed as he thought of the stern disapproval coming his way when Cason came to dress him down. If he’d even bother speaking to him.
“Well he thought it best, under the circumstances, and Anna said she’d take care of her Ladyship for the time being- both her and Lady Mary insisted that someone stay with you, and said they could easily take care of themselves until you were feeling more stable…. Even the family care about your wellbeing, Mr Barrow.”
“Although who knows why- I’ve been nasty to all of them- even you, an’ you stuck around. Why’d you bother with little old me?”
“Because we can all see that you were only prickly to defend yourself. And we can see who you are underneath it all- you’re kinder than you think.” She squeezed his hand again and turned as the door opened.
“Is he awake- Mr Barrow!”
Thomas withdrew his hand and squared his shoulders as Andy walked into the room. Andy’s eyes dropped awkwardly to Thomas’ wrists. He seemed a little lost for words for a moment, but quickly recovered, pulling a smile to his face.
“I’m relieved you’re alright, Mr Barrow. It’s good to see you awake.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at Thomas like his appearance alive and well was a miracle. Perhaps it was.
“Well that’s one way to put it. I suppose I’m in one piece.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Baxter stood to go but Andy gestured her back to her seat,
“I can’t stay long, Mr Carson’s expectin’ me- I just wanted to check on him. You’ll be alright now, won’t you Mr Barrow?” He looked Thomas over warily.
“’Course I will- you know me, Andy, I can get m’self out of anythin’.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He paused, glanced at Baxter and back. “I hope this hasn’t... got anything to do with how I treated you- before. Because it has I’m sorry, Mr Barrow- truly. I was out of line an’ when you’ve been so kind to me-”
“I know you didn’t mean anythin’ by it. You did what any man would have- an’ y’were kinder about it than most would've been.”
“Well, I... you keep getting better, Mr Barrow.” He nodded. “I’d better be off- Mr Carson’s waiting. Rest well, Mr Barrow. Miss Baxter.” He nodded and left the room.
“You’ve missed luncheon- Anna will be up soon to bring you some dinner.” Baxter watched Thomas’ face carefully. “You should try and eat if you can, get your strength back.”
Thomas nodded, already feeling tiredness pulling from the back of his head. At least it made the pain in his arms a little duller.
“Mr Barrow? … Mr Barrow?”
He must have dozed off; when he woke up Anna was placing a tray on the bedside table beside him. He weakly opened his eyes and tried a smile.
“Would you like some water?” Anna smiled warmly back. Thomas nodded and Anna fetched him some, he tugged his sleeve down when he caught Anna discretely trying to look.
“Well you’ve gotten a little colour back in your cheeks, so that’s something. Eat, and I’m sure you’ll feel a little more yourself.” She sat on the chair next to him- ah, it's her stag watch, then.
“Well the point was to not feel m’self.” He muttered and Anna’s expression blanched. He quickly shrugged, “Sorry. Probably shouldn’t joke about it just yet.”
“You gave us all a terrible fright. When Miss Baxter told me I… well, I don’t know what I thought. I don’t know what I would have done if it’d been worse than it was.”
“I know I know. Bloody selfish of me, wasn’t it?” Thomas took his tray and forced some bread into his mouth.
“I didn’t say that. Only… You mustn’t do anything like this, ever again- I was so worried...”
Thomas glanced up at her, chewing slowly. “’M Sorry.” He finished his mouthful. “I didn’t mean t’scare you.”
“I know you didn’t.” She sighed. “Thomas. I can’t help feeling awful that you thought you were so alone. I should have made more of an effort- we’re all for you now, though, and we’re going to help you get through this.”
“Well, thank you. That means a lot to me.” Thomas nodded slowly, still not quite sure how that was supposed to make him feel better.
“I know Mr Carson’s having words with his Lordship- you aren’t going to be abandoned, we take care of our own.” Eventually. She paused a moment. “When I… well.” She fiddled with the hands in her lap and looked away. “When I had something bad happen to me- I felt- I felt so awful I- I didn’t know what to do… so I can understand that you felt you…”
“You had Mr Bates to help cheer you up though, didn’t you? I haven’t got anythin’ like that.” Thomas frowned.
“He didn’t know. I didn’t tell him, y’see. For many reasons but- carrying it around, all that sadness and anger- it made me feel so helpless- so when I finally could talk to Mr Bates- I felt so much better- like a weight had been lifted- and it didn’t all go away, just like that. I still felt sick to my stomach and there were days…” she took a breath and met his eyes. “Days that were difficult. But talking about it- finding friends to keep me on my feet, that’s what made me stronger. You’re already stronger than me, Thomas. You’ve been managing on your own for so long, isn’t it time you started talking?”
“Who wants to hear it? I’ve gotten used to secrets. Difficult to let go of 'em.” Thomas sighed and looked back at his hands, picking at his sleeve again. He became aware that his hair was probably a mess and ran a hand through it.
“Well I for one- and I know Miss Baxter feels the same- want to hear everything you want to say. No matter how much you think it’ll shock us or make us uncomfortable… you can say anything to your friends.” She waited until Thomas met her eye and smiled. “I’d better get going- Mr Bates will want to get going soon- Miss Baxter will be right up.”
“I’ll think about what you’ve said.” He nodded as she stood to go.
“Please do. And if you need anything, just let us know. And try to get better.” She paused by the door. “Don’t dwell on past mistakes- focus on what’s ahead, make a plan- once you’ve put your mind to something I’m sure you’ll achieve it.”
Thomas was left with a funny melancholy sensation. He’d felt a little strength seep back while Anna was in the room- but that must have been the food. He quickly ate the rest of his meal, and put his tray back on the side, as there was a smart knock on the door.
“Come in.” He smiled, expecting Baxter, but froze where he sat when Mr Carson walked into the room. After a beat, Mr Carson shut the door behind him, and Thomas struggled to sit up on the bed.
“Mr Carson- I wasn’t- uh- expectin’ you… I…”
“Please- make yourself comfortable.” Carson held up a hand and stood a few steps into the room, looking Thomas up and down. Tension seeped from his shoulders as he took a breath.
“You look well.” He concluded. “A little pale, perhaps, but otherwise unharmed… I’m glad.”
Thomas stared.
Carson cleared his throat. “Mr Barrow I’ve been meaning to speak with you, but I have not, as yet, had time. I want to express my deepest regrets for what has happened to you. I made a mistake.”
Thomas blinked. “I… I don’t understand your meanin’, Mr Carson.”
“You are under my care and I failed you. I should have been more aware of your feelings, and in my own stubbornness or dare I admit it- pride, I wrongly assumed you had none. I want to apologize for my part in all this, and assure you, you will be allowed to stay on indefinitely until you have found a secure place where you can work happily.”
Thomas sat. He’d thought he was tired of apologies and sympathy, but he had nothing to say to that.
“Thank you, Mr Carson. I’m sorry for any trouble I may have caused.”
“Oh that doesn’t matter now, and I don’t want it to worry you.” He gestured with his hand. “The family is entirely sympathetic. We all accept some measure of responsibility for what happened, and we all would very much like to see your happy recovery.”
“I… I seem to have brought this all down on m’self, Mr Carson. I know I haven’t been easy, an’ I’ve done and said things and I’ve…” he cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect you all to help me. Not after all I’ve put you all through. So I… I suppose I lost my bearings, a bit. An’ I think I’ll be tryin’ other ways from now on. I don’t… I don’t know what I was thinkin’.” I know exactly what I was thinkin’- some extra time still can’t solve all my problems- and if it took me nearly bleedin’ out in a bathtub for you lot to show you cared… well, I wonder how long it’ll last. Thomas shook off the thoughts in his head, and tried not to listen to himself, for once.
“Good. I am glad to hear it. Mrs Hughes was very upset to think what could have happened. I hope you know that. There are people who see the goodness in everyone. It is my failing that I do not.” He cleared his throat of the sentiment. “At any rate, the Doctor will keep me well informed, and you are welcome to come back to work as soon as you are recovered, though of course you must take all the time you need.”
Not like you’re short of anythin’ while I’m not there.
A voice sounded in the hall “Mr Carson?”
He turned his head as the door was knocked on. “Ah, Mrs Hughes, I was just talking to Mr Barrow.”
“Oh.” She poked her head through the door. “Well don’t mind me, I’ll leave you be.” Apparently it’s visitor’s hour. “I thought I’d poke my head in before everyone went up, but I’ll come back later.”
“No, no. I believe I’ve said all I need to. Mr Barrow, is there anything you wish to add?”
Thomas swallowed his pride. “Only my thanks, Mr Carson. I appreciate your care and delicacy in this matter- an’… an allowin’ me to stay on until I make other arrangements.” If he had to spend another fifteen minutes thanking Mrs Hughes he might be sick, but all this fussing, from Mr Carson of all people, was starting to make him squirm. He waited until Mr Carson left before he looked up again.
Mrs Hughes was standing, staring at Thomas like she’d seen a ghost. “Oh Thomas, let me look at you.” She marched to the bedside and inspected his forehead, his cheeks and his overall appearance. He probably looked a little tired, a little dazed and a little ruffled but he was alive, and was recovered enough to arch a snarky eyebrow at her.
“Thank goodness for that, you look much like yourself- when we found you, you were as white as a sheet- I never want to see you looking anything less than healthy ever again.” She put her hand to Thomas’ cheek and shook her head. “I should shake you for being so silly- and rattling my nerves to pieces into the bargain.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Thomas said quietly, as Mrs Hughes sat on the side of the bed, moving her hand to squeeze Thomas’ one. He felt a little self-conscious without his glove on, but Mrs Hughes didn’t bat an eyelid.
“I know you didn’t, pet, but you gave us all a nasty shock to think of if the worst had happened. I’d never have forgiven myself. You know you can always come and talk to me- I hope I’ve proven that you can tell me anything by now haven’t I?”
“I know, Mrs Hughes, but I…” He was emotionally worn out. “There are some things y’just, can’t say, and I didn’t know what I was doin’ or what I meant to do until it happened.”
“And that’s what that little talk was about this morning- oh you are a silly thing, Thomas. And you’re not going to be left alone until I’m sure you’re not going to hurt yourself again.” She gently placed her hand over his wrist, looking directly at the bandages and tenderly checking them. Thomas fidgeted and looked away.
“‘M not goin’ to. I’m through with all that, I think. An’ Mr Carson says I can stay on until I’m better- so I think-” he swallowed, “I think I got stuck in a certain way of thinkin’- an’ after Jimmy left there was no one to talk to so I jus’… got stuck in my own head. But I won’t let it happen again.”
“You’d better not. I’d like to go to sleep at night without being sick with worry over you for once, young man.” She squeezed his hand when Thomas started to look guilty. “I don’t begrudge you a second of it, Thomas- it’s a mother’s care I feel for you, and it comes with a mother’s worry… I should have said something to Mr Carson sooner- I meant to, but I didn’t know just how harsh he was seeming to you- you’ve always been the expert here at shrugging things off. I shouldn’t have underestimated how unwanted it was making you feel.”
“That’s alright. I forgot I had feelings m’self for a while.”
Mrs Hughes looked at him sternly for a long moment. “No more of that talk- when we both know you’re more sensitive than the rest when it comes down to it- and there’s no shame in that, either. There’s not a person in this house that has ill wishes for you, and we’re all going to be taking care of you from now on.”
I don’t need any pity. He heard the thought, clear as a bell, and tried to push it away. Maybe it wasn’t pity. Maybe it was truly care, and people were just bad at expressing it.
“Mr Carson has told the other’s you’ve got influenza- so there’s no need to feel embarrassed when you’re well again. What you tried to do was a foolish thing, but you’re a brave man for trying to deal with it all on your own.”
Thomas cleared his throat. “I think I should rest, Mrs Hughes. I’m quite tired, an’ it’s been a long day.”
“Of course you should. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything in the night I’ve told Mr Carson he’s to get it to you.”
Not likely.
Thomas lay in bed, but he couldn’t sleep. He’d spent the day dozing, but he was too exhausted to move to get a book, even. After an hour or so he managed to drag himself to the chamber pot and back, but after that his arms ached like he’d tried to lift a mountain. He eventually drifted off, trying to push back the sight of blood in water and shiny silver blades and the bliss he’d felt right before he’d fallen unconscious. He let himself cry, to release some of the tensions the day had thrown on him. He wasn’t very successful in cheering up, but in entertaining the thoughts that came he was quite certain he wouldn’t try it again. He was glad to be alive. Now he just had to find a reason to be.