A/N: This is the epilogue. There is a warning for multiple character deaths. I'm sorry.

I do not own Downton Abbey, I've just borrowed the characters for a while.

The first song mentioned is "Then", by Brad Paisley.

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to all of you who have read and reviewed this story. I had an idea for Chelsie in a modern AU, set at a law firm. I have been absolutely blown away by the support for this! It has been a genuine joy to write, and I'm going to miss it. That's the downside of an epilogue staring a writer in the face; I knew there would be an end from the early chapters. That being said, if any of you have any alternate ideas about this fic, please let me know. I won't be against revisiting it in the future. I can always find gaps to fill. Please, please review and tell me what you think of this, any random chapter, and the fic as a whole.

Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you all. Chelsie on!

-meetmeinstlouie

Epilogue

September 2046

The fields were a blur of children, coaches and parents. He had asked at the concession stand where the nine-year-olds were playing, and was headed in that general direction before he heard someone say his name.

"Tom?"

Her white hair was up, much like it had been when they worked together at the firm. Back when it was blonde.

He touched her shoulder. "Hello, Anna! It's nice to see you. Here to watch the grandchildren?"

"Of course," she smiled, the familiar gap between her teeth showing. He was glad to see her smile. "George is coaching Johnny's team, and I promised Poppy to bring her some coffee." She held up the cups in her hands. "She's never been a morning person."

"Sounds like someone I know," he joked as they maneuvered through crowd. "Are Matthew and Mary here as well?"

"No," she said, sipping coffee from one of the cups. "They're still up north, helping Lottie with the new baby."

"I wasn't sure if she was coming back today or tomorrow. How does George like coaching the team?"

"Oh, you know, they're four-year-olds," she said, giggling. "George says it's like herding cats."

They walked for a few more minutes before finding the right field. Anna handed the other cup to Poppy, who took it gratefully.

"Mmmm, you're the best mother on the planet," she said, taking a long sip. "Just don't tell my mother-in-law I said that. I know you tell her everything!"

"I do not," Anna protested. "Mary and I have been friends since we were young, but I don't tell her everything."

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Right." She then noticed Tom. "Uncle Tom! I didn't expect to see you here!" She got up and gave him a hug.

"I just came by to take my oldest grandchild out for breakfast. I'm starting a new tradition today." He tilted his hat to keep his eyes shaded.

"I'm sorry," Anna said. "I didn't mean to keep you from her game-"

"You didn't. The other team didn't show up, so they're practice instead."

"Q's her coach, right?" Poppy asked as they watched the group of little boys chase the ball. "Tell him from me that I hope he's doing well, and the next time I see him, I'm going to kill him."

Anna swatted her daughter on her arm. "Will that ever end? Poor Q, always getting threatened!"

Poppy and Tom laughed. Poppy drank more of the coffee. "Mum, it's just a joke. If you want to blame someone for starting it, blame Sybbie. She started it. She's been threatening to kill Quinton for roughly twenty years."

"And she hasn't done it yet. I have my doubts," Tom said. "I should go, they're nearly done," he waved at George, who waved back. "Poppy, I'll see you next week at the barbeque. Matthew wouldn't let me say no."

"See you then," Poppy replied, turning back to her son's game. Anna turned to Tom.

"I'll walk with you for a bit, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," he said, knowing what she wanted to talk about. They walked around the smaller fields, toward the middle of the complex. He waited a full minute before speaking. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but it's good to see you out and about again."

She nodded, squeezing his arm, before clasping her hands together. "Thank you. It was time. John wouldn't want me to hide away. He always wanted me to live for both of us. Thankfully, I've got plenty to live for." She looked into the distance, her blue eyes shining. "Over these past months, I've really been able to grieve properly, to come to terms with him being gone." Her voice shook for a moment before she cleared her throat. "Tell me the truth. Does it get easier?"

He sighed, his hands in his pockets. He wanted to be kind, but she needed to hear the truth. "No, not really. There are good days and bad days." They stopped at the edge of the field, where a crowd of girls were seated around a dark-haired man. "You'll always think of him. Sometimes he'll be at the forefront of your mind, and you won't know how you'll manage to get out of bed. Other days, he'll be there, like he's sitting in the corner, but you'll be able to get through it. And some days, like today…" he trailed off, his own thoughts taking over. "I can feel her standing next to me, walking with me, but it doesn't hurt. It's an absence without the pain. I know she's with me, that she never really left. It brings a certain comfort, if that makes any sense." He turned to her. "Isobel said on her wedding day to Richard that we were the lucky ones. You've been lucky, you said it at John's wake. You've known real love."

Pulling a tissue out of the pocket of her jacket, she dabbed at her eyes. "Did I say that? I don't remember." She blew her nose, smoothed a flyaway hair back. "It's funny, I was thinking about Elsie this morning, when I woke up. Sometimes I almost envy her…is that wrong?"

"No," he said stoutly. "I've felt the same. Of course, my circumstances and yours are different from theirs. They were older."

"You don't think she just gave up, do you?" Anna whispered. "Poppy was so furious with the coroner. He seemed to think so."

Tom crossed his arms. "I can see why he said it. But you and she were there." He ran his fingers down to his chin, thinking, before his eyes widened. "You were the last to see her."

Anna shook her head, scuffing her shoe on the grass. "They were both frail. I know when John died last winter, Mr. Carson took it hard. They both did. And they were still in mourning for Beryl, too. Mary thought it was a miracle Mr. Carson made it to their thirtieth wedding anniversary." She grinned at the look on Tom's face.

"That man was determined to not miss it," he took off his hat and twirled it on his hand. "And he didn't. Then he slipped away in his sleep one week later." He cleared his throat. "Ninety-eight years old," he said quietly. "And she was ninety."

"It was a crazy fluke that the coroner didn't get there right away," Anna said, remembering. "Elsie was calm, very calm. I remember Poppy getting her a cup of tea, and she drank some of it. Then she said she was going to lay down. I don't know…I think I knew then. Sometimes I ask myself if I would have done things differently, insisted she rest on the couch. I knew she would go back to the bedroom. Back to him."

"You would not have done anything differently," he insisted. "The more I think about it, the more it was meant to be. I know Poppy took it hard, finding Elsie there next to him."

"I should have gone back to the bedroom," Anna let out a breath. "Like I said, I just had a feeling. The coroner said it was the first time he'd come to get someone and had to call back for another coffin when he arrived." She pursed her lips and exchanged a glance with Tom. Smiles bloomed across their faces before they dissolved into laughter, crying at the same time.

Tom held his sides, wiping his eyes. "Can't you just see Elsie? There's her husband, standing by the pearly gates, and all of a sudden he hears that Scottish lilt behind him, 'Charlie Carson, how dare you leave me first!'"

"I'm sure he turned around and said something like, 'I didn't leave, I was just getting a better place in line. You certainly made sure I didn't have to wait long.'" Giggling, Anna dabbed at a tear with her finger. "Poppy talked to Sybbie at their funeral. She was feeling bad, having lost both of them at once, but your daughter just asked her if she could imagine one of them without the other. And she couldn't." She sighed. "That's when I think Poppy started to heal, not to feel guilt about it."

"Sybbie has always thought of them as being closer than two people usually are," Tom commented, taking an offered tissue from Anna. "You know when she was little she sometimes called them-"

"Uncle and Aunt Carson," Anna smiled. "I remember. John said once it seemed appropriate, even though we called Elsie Mrs. Hughes for years. Speaking of names," she glanced at the group of girls, who were standing, clustered around the coach, "I rang Sebastian last week at work. I know he goes by Charles there, but it was the first time I'd ever heard him answer the phone with 'Charles Bates, speaking.' I think Mr. Carson would have liked that."

"I think he would have loved that," Tom corrected. "I think they're finished now." They walked over to Quinton, who was gathering equipment.

"Hi Tom! She's so excited, she told me all about going to breakfast with you. That place is great, Ada and I took Jalen there a couple of weeks ago. He's raved about it ever since." Q gave Anna a hug. "It's good to see you, too."

"How are your dads doing? The wedding's next month," Anna said. "Thomas hasn't stopped crying yet, has he?" Q grinned.

"Actually, Dad's all right. For now. He's found a way to get through the next few weeks without a flood. Daddio, on the other hand…well, we're going to need a stadium's worth of tissues. Mason just laughs at them and says, oh well, it's a farm, they'll water the ground."

"You'll be crying along with them, you softie," Tom teased him. "It's your sister's wedding day. I'm looking forward to seeing her, and the farm. Daisy says it looks so different. She's very proud of all the work the kids have done."

"As any mother would be," Anna said, glancing over her shoulder. "I need to go, but it's been nice to see you, Quinton. Say hello to Jimmy and Thomas for me." Anna gave him another hug before turning to Tom. He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"If you ever need to talk to someone, call me."

"Thanks. I will." She hurried off.

The girls chattering in the background were moving apart as their parents came and got them. Tom saw a familiar figure squeal and rush toward him. He quickly leaned forward and whispered to Q. "Poppy said that she hopes you're doing well and she's going to kill you the next time she sees you. Which will probably be at Ada's wedding."

The young man threw his head back and laughed. "It'll be the infamous Red Wedding, then? I'm looking forward to it," He stepped aside as a grass-covered girl threw herself into Tom's arms.

"Granddad! You're here! Can we go eat now? I'm starving," she said, her black hair wild. Q grinned.

"I'll see you next week, kiddo. You're doing well, keep practicing your dribbling. Have fun with your grandfather!" Q ruffled the top of her head fondly.

0000000000000000

The drive into town took a bit longer, as the farmer's market had blocked off the street next to the courthouse. Tom had to drive around the building to find a parking spot. DOWNTON PLAZA was emblazoned on the top. It was a new sign, just like the others.

"Why is the building called Downton?" she asked. Tom checked his rearview mirror as he backed into a spot.

"I don't know," he said honestly as they got out of the car. "I never thought about it before."

"Oh, look! They have the new sign up for your office!" She pointed at the doors. He slid an arm around her shoulders as she read it out loud. "Carson, Crawley, Bates and Branson," she gripped his waist, bouncing up and down. "Why is the name Carson still there? Nobody works there with that name."

He held her tightly crossing the street. "It's a sign of respect, love. Do you want them to take my name off when I retire for good?"

"They better not!" She said, stomping her feet on the sidewalk. They grinned at each other. A young couple passed them going the other way, kissing. "Ew," she said, sticking her tongue out. "Why did the Carsons do that at their party?"

"What? What did they do?" he asked. He knew she meant their anniversary party back in the spring. Secretly, he was glad she'd brought them up. It was appropriate to the occasion.

"They kissed. It was gross!" She said, skipping beside him. "They were OLD. Old people shouldn't kiss!"

"Even married people?" Tom asked, stifling a laugh. "When you get older, you won't think it's gross."

"And then," she said, not listening, "When they were eating their cake, they kept holding hands! Uncle Carson had to eat his cake left-handed!"

"In a few years, I'm going to remind you of this conversation," Tom said as he laughed. "Look, we're here." He thanked a man going out the door who held it open for them.

Pedro's was packed. Even the bar was full.

"I'm sorry, there will be a twenty-minute wait," the hostess said. The forty-something manager sidestepped a waitress and shook Tom's hand.

"We tried to hold the seats, Mr. Branson, but we've been slammed since seven this morning," he apologized. "If I didn't have to put the customer first, I'd kick out the women sitting there now." The hostess laughed. Tom shrugged.

"Don't sweat it, we'll still come back next week. I forgot about the farmers' market." Tom put his hand on his granddaughter's shoulder. The manager's mouth fell open.

"I'm sure everyone tells you this, but you look just like your mother. I'm Eddie," he said. "You'll love the food here. We make pancakes as big as your face!" She giggled, shaking his hand vigorously.

"I love pancakes! I'm Carson," she glanced over at the jukebox. Eddie looked in confusion at Tom, who nodded.

"That's a name I haven't heard much." He scratched the stubble on his chin.

"Some people say it's a boys' name," Carson explained baldly. "I don't. I have a friend named Riley, and she's a girl."

Eddie blew out a breath and looked back at the bar. "Now I'm really sorry I can't kick those women out for you."

"Really, don't worry," Tom said. "I know how busy this place gets during brunch on the weekends. It's partly my fault, I was talking with friends before we came over here."

"If you say so," Eddie gestured at the jukebox, noticing Carson's interest. "It's old, but it really works. Here-" he handed her some change. "Let's go pick a song. This one's on me."

"Really?" she asked, grinning. "Thanks!" They went over to the machine, where Eddie explained where to put the money in, and pointed to the correct buttons for the song she wanted.

"Which song did you pick?" Tom asked when she sat down next to him.

"It's a surprise!" she said. "Granddad, they had so many songs that I knew! Like ones that we play at home on the record player!"

"That means they'll be good songs," he smiled. He watched her fondly as she got up to look at pictures hanging on the walls. She kept running back to tell him about the pictures of him and Grandma Sybil, Great-Aunts Mary and Edith, Great-Uncle Matthew. Great-Grandpa Robert and Great-Granny Cora. He thought about telling her about the other pictures, about people she didn't know. In time, she'll know about all of them. That's why you're coming back next Saturday.

"Granddad," she pouted, flopping down next to him a few minutes later, "Why hasn't my song come on yet? Eddie showed me how to pick it, so I know I did it right, but I haven't heard it yet!"

A vaguely familiar country song played from the jukebox.

I can just see you when your hair is turning gray

What I can't see is

How I'm ever gonna love you more

But I've said that before…

We'll look back someday

At this moment that we're in

And I'll look at you and say

And I thought I loved you then

And I thought I loved you then…

"A lot of people have picked songs," he explained. "Yours is in line, waiting its turn. We'll hear it before we leave."

"Oh, okay." She turned around, kneeling on the bench, and pointed at a picture right behind them on the wall. "Who's that?"

He turned and raised his eyebrows. "You don't know? You know who they are, you've met them." He stood up to get a better angle. It had been a long time since he'd looked at it. He smiled, seeing their intertwined hands on the bar, their rings showing. Carson frowned.

"Ummm…I don't know," she said, flapping her hands.

Blinking rapidly, Tom exhaled. How would she know what they looked like before she knew them? She's only nine.

"This is Uncle Carson," he pointed at the smiling man. "This picture was taken the day he retired," Tom said. Carson bit her lip.

"Oh. But who's the pretty lady with red hair?"

"That's Elsie. Aunt Carson," he said.

"She had red hair? I didn't know that!" She peeked closer. "She had really blue eyes. And Uncle Carson had a big nose."

Tom snorted, laughing. "Yes she did, and yes, he did." He grabbed her in a hug, suddenly feeling tears. "I love you."

"I love you, Granddad," she kissed him on the cheek.

They were finally seated in a booth, and their orders taken by a waitress.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh," Carson laid her head dramatically on the table. "I'm so huuuuunnnnnnnggggrrrryyyy."

"You won't be after you eat," Tom ruffled her hair. "Sit up, darling." He glanced at their surroundings. He hadn't sat in this particular spot before. "Did you know Pedro's used to be a bar? I mean, it still has a bar, but it wasn't a restaurant like it is now. They didn't serve breakfast when I first met your grandmother. Uncle and Aunt Carson came here every Friday after work to talk. They'd sit at the same two seats at the bar, over there," he pointed to where the group of women laughed over coffee. "If you like, we can come here every Saturday for breakfast. And hopefully, we can sit at the bar."

"Every Saturday? Really? Just me? Not Kevin or Sophie, or Mom and Dad?" Her eyes bugged out.

"Just us. I spend time with your brother and sister during the week, and I'd like for you and I to have a special time together."

"Yeah!" she waved her hands in a cheer above her head, her grin splitting her face. "Awesomesauce!" She gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. "And I can pick another song!" Her shoulders slumped. "Oh, darn."

"What's wrong? There are plenty of songs to choose from," Tom said. She rested her cheek on her hand.

"I know, but the old jukebox still hasn't played my song. I think it's broken."

"I don't think so. It's just very, very busy. Like Pedro's." He leaned in closer, his breath tickling her forehead. "If you like, after we eat, we can go dance over there. They have a spot for people to dance." It wasn't very big, but there was a space on the other side of the bar where a dance floor had been put down.

"I love to dance. We dance to the record player at home all the time," Carson said. "Mom says she used to dance at Uncle and Aunt Carson's when she was growing up." She cocked her head. "She said it was a secret, and she never told you."

Tom's heart melted. "And she never did. I thought maybe she'd dance there, mostly because they did, but I never knew for sure about your mom." He hesitated for a moment. "Would you like to know a secret? About your mother and the Carsons?"

"Yeah!" she said eagerly, leaning forward.

"Did you know your record player used to belong to Mr. Carson? He had it for years."

"Uh-huh. I knew that," she said, nodding.

"I thought you might know that. But this is something else," he said. "Both Aunt and Uncle Carson loved your grandmother Sybil very much," he said, feeling a slight lump in his throat. "And after she died, Mr. Carson gave me money for your mother, Sybbie, to have when she went to university."

"And she used it to go to Dublin, where she met Dad," Carson finished, drumming her fingers on the table. Tom sat back.

"How did you know that?"

"Mom told me," she hummed under her breath.

"Oh." He studied his hands for a moment. But there is something that I know you don't know. Because I never told Sybbie. I never told anyone.

"Your grandmother and I flew to Las Vegas to get married, did you know that?" he asked. She raised her eyebrows.

"No. Why did you go there?"

He huffed out a laugh. I'll give her the nine-year-old version. "Well, your great-grandpa didn't like your grandmother dating me then. He learned to like me later, but not then. Grandma Sybil and I wanted to get married quickly, so we could be together."

"Great-Grandpa didn't like you? So you ran away to get married?" Her mouth was open in a perfect O.

"That's right. Except we didn't buy our plane tickets to Las Vegas. Someone else did, and gave them to me." He pointed behind him, at the picture by the door. "Mrs. Carson, or Mrs. Hughes as she was known then, gave me the plane tickets. So your grandmother and I flew to Las Vegas a few days later and got married. But we never told anyone that the airplane tickets were a gift." He lowered his voice. "Your mother doesn't know. I kept the secret between me and Mrs. Carson."

"Mom doesn't know?" she half-shrieked. She bounced on her seat. "I don't want to tell her. Do I have to?"

"No," he laughed. "You can tell her if you like, but if you want to keep it a secret between us, that's okay too." His expression softened as he took her hand across the table. "On the day you were born, I was so happy your parents gave you the name Carson. It's very special, you know that, right?" She nodded, hooking a finger through his. "If Mrs. Carson hadn't given me the plane tickets all those years ago, I don't know when Sybil and I would have gotten married. And if Mr. Carson hadn't given your mother the money for school, she might not have gone to Dublin and met your dad. So you see, Carson, they played a big part in you being here today." He squeezed her hand.

"Wow," she said quietly. She looked as if she didn't know what to say. But she squealed and let go of his hand as the waitress arrived with their food. "Look at the pancakes, Granddad!"

"Eddie was right, they are as big as your face. More like your head, really." He thanked the waitress, both of them grinning at Carson, who devoured her breakfast with almost alarming speed. She was finished before Tom was halfway through.

"Oh, that was really good. I'm really, really full," she groaned, holding her stomach, slumping against the back of the booth. She glanced over at the dance floor. "The jukebox still hasn't played my song. It's broken. We need to tell Eddie."

"What's the song? Unless you still want it to be a surprise," he said, lifting his cup to take another sip of coffee.

She sat up. "It's one of Mom's favorites. We dance to it at home. 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough', by Tammi Terrell and Marvin…uh, Marvin…" she frowned, trying to remember.

"Marvin Gaye," Tom said without thinking. Unbidden, the memory of a long-ago wedding reception popped into his head. Followed by a memory of the city office on a summer's day, and a disheveled office manager and a proud managing partner. He choked on his coffee. Holding his napkin to his face, he knew his face was red.

And not just because I choked on my drink. I think I'll wait ten years before telling her about dancing to Charlie Puth's song with the bride.

And how I slipped the copy of the Kama Sutra into Elsie's luggage on their wedding day. It's not like they noticed me after I drove them from the reception to their hotel. They went to their shared grave thinking Beryl did it.

Heh.

He could almost hear Sybil laughing.

"Are you okay, Granddad?" Carson looked worried, poor soul.

"I'm fine, love," he reassured her once he could talk again. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something less naughty. "It just went down the wrong pipe."

"Can I go dance?" she asked. "Just over there."

"Go ahead, I need to finish my food." He watched her as she twirled by herself on the tiny floor. Several people watched her with amusement as she got lost in the music. Tom had finished his meal, and was nursing his last bit of coffee when he was hailed by some friends who were leaving.

Carson didn't know the people he was talking to, but she knew better than to interrupt him. But when she finally, finally heard the opening notes to her song, she was tempted to drag him over to dance with her. Mom always said it was a song no one should dance to alone.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a couple, a man and woman, dancing to the old favorite. She spun in a circle, bouncing on her toes.

She wouldn't dance alone.

Listen, baby

Ain't no mountain high

Ain't no valley low,

Ain't no river wide enough, baby

If you need me, call me

No matter where you are

No matter how far; don't worry baby

Just call my name; I'll be there in a hurry

You don't have to worry…

A flash of red distracted her. The man was so much taller than the woman, but somehow their foreheads were touching, red hair mixed with unruly black curls. They kissed, but somehow their feet moved in time perfectly. Carson danced three steps behind them as they circled the dance floor, trying to imitate their steps.

My love is alive

Way down in my heart

Although we are miles apart

If you ever need a helping hand

I'll be there on the double

Just as fast as I can

Don't you know that there

Ain't no mountain enough

Ain't no valley low enough

Ain't no river wide enough

To keep me from getting to you, babe…

Someone tapped on her shoulder. She beamed up at her Granddad. They danced for the rest of the song. She was surprised when the music died away, and people around them applauded.

"They think you danced well, love," Tom said, as she blushed and hid her face in his shirt. Eddie waved them over to the bar. The two seats at the end were empty. Carson sucked in her breath and shivered.

Eddie gestured to the end of the bar. "Before you go, I wanted to show Carson these. With any luck, you'll sit here next Saturday, and the Saturday after that, and so on."

She peeked at the back of the red leather seats. Embossed brass plaques were screwed into them. One said C. Carson, the other, E. Carson.

"See? You can sit in either seat next time, and let your Granddad have the other."

"Thanks," Carson said, her heart beating fast. She wanted to tell her grandfather something, but she didn't think he'd believe her. Maybe he would. He had told her a secret earlier. She bit her lip. It was a bad habit, her mother was forever telling her to stop.

After Tom paid the bill, she tugged on his sleeve.

"I have to tell you something," she whispered.

"What is it?" he bent over, looking into her blue eyes. They were wide. She pointed at a picture on the wall, the one taken the day of Mr. Carson's retirement.

"They were dancing with me! I know it!" she gasped, grabbing his wrist. "They weren't ghosts. Please believe me! If Dad were here, he'd say it was only my imagination, but I know-"

"It's not your imagination," he murmured, stopping by the door and enveloping her in a hug. "I saw them, too."

I can't explain it. But maybe I don't have to.

He held on to her until he felt her let go. He smoothed her wild hair back, assured she was fine.

Eddie waved goodbye behind the bar. "Bye, Carson! We'll see you next Saturday!"

"See you later!" she called back, waving. When they left, the window pane in the door reflected the picture inside. Charles and Elsie appeared in the glass before they vanished in the bright sunlight.

The End.