I own none of the characters of Downton Abbey.

The Quiet Man

Chapter 1- How it all began - Bates

As the train neared his destination, John Bates stared out of the window and took a deep breath to calm his nerves – nerves that he would never allow to be apparent to anyone else. He had learnt how to present a seemingly calm, dignified face to the world, whatever turmoil was going on in his head - and he had had plenty of turmoil to practice with, that was for sure. But none of that mattered any more. He'd been given a lifeline, an opportunity to make a new start with his life, and he was going to grab it with both hands, and give it everything he had.

Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, was the very best of men as John knew from serving as his batman in the Boer war. Now he was determined to repay his kindness in giving him this lifeline by working tirelessly to be the best valet to him that he could possibly be. He was determined that his lameness would not be a hindrance in any way, and he would work twice as hard as the next man to prove it.

xXx

John looked round at the sea of faces regarding him – not all were friendly, he quickly noticed. He'd caught them unawares; he'd arrived at Downton Abbey earlier than expected by catching the milk train, eager to get started, to make a good impression. No one had heard him knocking at the back door, so eventually he had made his own way in, just as some of the female staff had re-appeared from upstairs, busily talking amongst themselves.

"I've been waiting at the back door. I knocked but no one came," John explained as they stared at him.

"So you pushed in." A woman with dark hair and an unwelcoming expression stated, with a look of disdain as she stared at his crippled leg and walking stick.

He ignored this and introduced himself.

"I'm John Bates, the new valet."

Now everyone stared at him, their eyes all trailing down to stare at his leg and his walking stick.

The only one amongst them to show any kind of a welcome was a slim, pretty, fair haired girl, who came over to shake his hand.

"I'm Anna, the Head Housemaid," she explained as she introduced herself with a friendly smile. John gratefully shook her hand and smiled back.

The dark haired woman introduced herself too.

"I'm Miss O'Brien, her ladyship's maid. You'd better come along with us," she told him begrudgingly; clearly she thought he wasn't at all suitable for the valet position. This made John pull himself up to stand tall and look her back straight in the eye, determined to prove that he would be able to manage.

As they went through to the kitchen, Anna flashed him a small, cheeky, almost conspiratorial smile as if to say 'ignore her'. It meant more than John was able to say to have that small friendly gesture from her.

The rest of the staff, including the cook and the butler, clearly shared Miss O'Brien's misgivings as they questioned him and raised similar doubts about his ability to fulfil his duties. Clearly they all felt that they had enough work to keep them occupied, without having to put up with someone who wouldn't be able to pull his weight.

"I can manage," he kept repeating, determined to keep his temper and his dignity.

"Of course he can," Anna piped up, flashing him another little smile. It seemed he had one ally at least in this unfriendly place.

A young, rather sour faced footman by the name of Thomas, led him to his room, gloating it seemed to John when he showed him the many stairs that he had to climb to reach it. Quite clearly Thomas resented him. He'd probably wanted the post of his Lordship's valet himself, John thought, and made a mental note to watch his back with that one. His instincts, which were rarely wrong these days, were that he was not to be trusted.

The room was sparse and basic but spotlessly clean - perfect as far as John was concerned. It would be heaven for him – after the other places he had lived in over recent times. A room all to himself was more than he'd dared to hope for.

"Oh yes, I should be comfortable here," he sighed to himself in relief.

xXx

Over the next few days, John kept his head down and settled in to his duties. It was plain that there was a lot of whispering going on behind his back, mostly from Miss O'Brien and Thomas he suspected. He swore that he'd heard mutterings between them about 'Long John Silver', clearly a reference to him.

He had, however, savoured the look on all their faces on his first day, when his Lordship had come down to the staff kitchen at lunchtime to personally welcome him to Downton – it had taken the wind right out of Mr. Carson the butler's sails, because he had just been lecturing John rather pompously about not being overawed in the presence of a Lord, assuming that he had not had dealings with the aristocracy before.

So now the other servants knew that he had a special connection with Lord Grantham. Everyone understood that the loyalty between war time comrades was very strong. So they didn't say too much in front of him, but John knew that things were being said about him 'upstairs'. Why else would his Lordship question him, ask if he was sure that he could manage, and was he sure that it wasn't all too much for him. Someone had clearly been putting doubts in his mind. It didn't take too much working out just who that could be either.

John's heart sunk at Robert's questioning of him. His worst fear would be to be let go – what other gainful employment would he ever hope to be able to find? Especially with his past. He felt guilty that he had kept a lot of things from his Lordship when he had written asking if there was a possibility of employment, but he was determined to work tirelessly to give him no reason to doubt his decision to employ his old batman.

So of course John had immediately reassured his Lordship that he had no problems, that he was very happy in his work, and very happy living at Downton Abbey, which was true, because he loved it here. The fine house and surroundings may not belong to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't look at and appreciate his surroundings as he worked.

The only person who really showed him any kind of friendship or support was Anna. A little look here, a friendly smile there, let him know that she was on his side. When his leg gave way as he stood up to pass a tray of cutlery to Gwen, one of the housemaids, and it fell to the floor with an almighty crash, it was, of course, Anna who immediately helped to pick them up.

But he didn't dare let himself think about Anna, much as he might want to. She was such a fine girl, not just with her pretty looks, but in her decent, honest and determined outlook. Whatever lucky man managed to win her would have a very fine wife indeed. But it couldn't be him, he knew with a bitter heart, so there was no point in encouraging her in any way. Yet he couldn't resist being her friend, his only one in the servant's hall, and he found himself looking out for her, and feeling ridiculously glad when he spotted her, relishing the little smiles she sent him. But it was with a very heavy heart that he knew that he could never let things develop any further between them – she wouldn't want it either, not if she knew more about him.

So he just kept his head down and worked as hard as he could to overcome the other servants prejudice against him. Young William was a decent lad who willingly helped him out with any duties that he struggled with, but Thomas resented this bitterly, and bullied William even more than usual because of it. John's initial instinct that Thomas was someone not to be trusted was proving to be increasingly accurate – he was a nasty piece of work. John was sure that it was Thomas that had been whispering complaints about him to Carson the butler, just as Anna had hinted to him that Miss O'Brien was poisoning her ladyship against him to influence her husband.

xXx

And then it all came to a horrid conclusion, and it meant that he had to leave. He was in the depths of despair, wondering how on earth he could go on. No one would employ a cripple like him, his war time connection to the Earl of Grantham had been his only lifeline to gain a job. And now it had been sabotaged.

It had been so humiliating too. Ending up flat on his face in front of the Duke of Crowborough and the whole Crawley family, as all the servants had lined up. Now there was absolutely no doubt that Miss O'Brien was out to get him, for it was her who had knocked his walking stick out from under him, knowing full well that he was relying on it to keep his balance. The look of absolute horror on Carson's face had said it all. John knew instantly that his days at Downton were numbered, whatever his connection to the his Lordship.

And of course it was Anna, dear sweet Anna, who had helped him to his feet, and then tried to reassure him, to make him feel better. His pride had kicked in, making him say to her,

"Please don't feel sorry for me," as he'd pulled himself together and tried to walk back to the servants quarters with as much dignity as he could muster. He couldn't bear to see the look of pity in her eyes, much as he appreciated her concern for him.

Miss O'Brien had picked the perfect moment to act against him– his fate was sealed. He could see the struggle that his Lordship faced, balancing the needs of his team of loyal servants to keep them happy, against his loyalty to his ex comrade from the war. John found himself practically begging to stay, offering to take a cut in wages, but it was to no avail. He was to leave in the morning.

That evening he simply couldn't face sitting with the others at their evening meal, so he claimed to be too unwell to join them. As he sat alone in his room, the room that he'd hoped would be his for a long time to come, an overwhelming feeling of despair washed over him, and he broke down, sobs wracking his body.

All his efforts, all his hard work and determination, all the gritting of his teeth to ignore the agonising pain in his leg, all had been for nothing. He didn't blame his Lordship, he'd obviously been torn, and he was a decent man, trying to do his best for everyone, John understood that.

But what was he to do now? He had nowhere to go, no prospect of any kind of job, obviously crippled as he was. Was there any point in even trying to go on? Maybe he should just end it all…

Then he was disturbed by the sound of Anna's voice out in the corridor, calling his name. He couldn't let her see him like this, so he quickly wiped his eyes and pulled himself together.

The dear, sweet, thoughtful girl had brought him a tray of food, her deep concern for him showing in her eyes. Why should such a lovely lass take an interest in a lost cause such as himself? He'd asked himself that question many times recently when she smiled at him, he really didn't understand it, but she was wasting her time in any case. If she knew about the real John Bates, she'd recoil in horror, he was sure. It was yet another bitter thought for him that he couldn't even contemplate showing any kind of interest in her, aside from polite friendship.

Her worried little face as she told him how they were sorry he was going, and asked him to drop them a line to let them know that he was alright – John knew that what she really meant was that she was sorry, no one else would give him a second thought once he'd left, mostly they would just be glad to see the back of him.

He put on his bravest of brave faces to reassure her, to tell her that he would be fine, and that she wasn't to worry. She was like a little angel to him, stopping him from feeling sorry for himself and thinking such very dark thoughts as he had been. If only things could have been different, but it was no good wishing for things that simply couldn't be.

So for Anna's sake, as he left the following morning he put his shoulders back and walked out of Downton with as much pride and dignity as he could muster, so that she wouldn't be ashamed of him. He owed her that much at least. Her last memory of him would be one that she could be proud of, not one that she would be ashamed to recall.