Disclaimer: Same as chapter 1-3.

'Captain! Where are you? Captain!' John's voice rang out over the screams and gunfire. The smell of blood was making him sick to his stomach. Friends falling at his feet, grabbing at his legs, begging him for help. He looked around, trying to see through the dust and smoke and the blood dripping down into his eyes.

The ground moved under his feet and he fell. 'Richards,have you seen the Captain? Oh God! Where is he?'

'Do you think I even care?' A canon ball fell meters away from them. Richards was on the verge of tears 'Good luck to him, but I'm out of here!'

'You stay there, Richards! You stay. They told us to stay in our positions.'

'Bloody hell, Bates. I don't want to die, and I won't be dying tonight!' The words had been cursed. Sometimes you wish for more than you can have, and minutes later Richards was dead.

'Richards!' John shouted, tears rolling down his cheeks. Not from the loss really but in rage and fear. Mourning would happen after the battle. There was no time for such things now. 'Where is he!' he pleaded to the heavens, and they answered him.

From the dust and smoke, Robert Crawley came into view. 'Sir!' John called again and this time he answered.

'Bates! Go back. Retreat, retreat!' Robert came running as fast as he could, his rifle in one hand and the other on his helmet, trying to protect himself from the fire. 'Retreat Bates!'

And that's when John saw him. The enemy. A bullet with Robert Crawley's name about to be fired. He wouldn't have it. He had sworn loyalty and his own life for his King, Country, and above all, his Capitan. So he ran to cover his superior. He ran as if his life depended of it and the bullet from that rifle was renamed - John Bates.

'Oh no, shit!' John cried on the ground. His hands grabbing at his knee, trying to make the bleeding stop.

'It's your knee, Bates. Just your knee. You'll be fine but now…' Robert told him, between heavy breaths. 'we have to run! Come on Bates, we have to get out of here!' So much blood. 'Bates! Wake up…Bates…'

Three days later, John awoke in the infirmary. His body shaking in pain and fever, his right leg still, as if it were dead.

'Will he be alright? He saved my life…' John heard someone talking.

'He'll survive but the leg…not sure if he'll walk again.'

He would walk again. He would survive. He would live until an old age and that leg would eventually heal. Little by little the cane would lose its importance, and many years later he would only use it more from habit than from need. If no enemy had stopped him, no bullet would.

No Christmas night had ever been more pleasing. The spirits were running high, people were dancing and talking and laughing. The tree was magnificent and appeared to be lit with tiny twinkling stars and surrounded by piles of festively wrapped gifts. Servants were more than happy for such a big party and a night off from work, and everyone was getting along splendidly. But now it was the time they were all waiting for, the Christmas choir and the singing of traditional carols.

'Alright, everyone in their place, and good luck.' John said, winking at his wife. Anna knew he was nervous, he had shared his fears and anxiety to her last night, but of course, she had put him at ease, encouraging him and spending the day telling him how wonderfully he would do. He was now more comfortable and at ease but still…when the audience gathered around them, his heart began to race in his chest.

Finally, the night was almost over. The choir was a success. Carol after carol, and ovation after ovation. The guests congratulated Lord Grantham. 'Who knew your servants had such talent, my Lord.'

And of course Robert was proud as a peacock. He walked around the room with his chin up and a pleased smile on his face. He would raise his glass at John every time a carol came to an end and John would smile, almost shy/shyly.

They sang seven Christmas songs, the last being 'O Come All Ye Faithful', where John and Thomas sang the last verse in duo. The guests were marvelled, taking in the harmonious match of their voices. When they finished, everyone clapped appreciatively, many were teary eyed. John was indeed a grand vocal coach, even Thomas had to admit that.

'Ladies and Gentlemen,' John spoke, calling everyone's attention. His choir staring at him in surprise. That carol was supposed to be the last. Anna looked at him questioningly and he smiled at her, a sure and lovingly smile followed by a nod. 'There's one more song…that I saved for last. This song is no carol, and maybe it doesn't mean much for most of you but…' he looked ahead then, meeting Robert's eyes in the middle of the room. 'It means so much for some of us. It's a song I used to sing to my comrades, and I'd like to sing it now in their honour. For those who are still here, and for those who didn't make it.' He looked at Anna now who was smiling at him with tears in her eyes. 'This song is called Annie Laurie and I also want to dedicate it to my own Annie.' He smiled then, his cheeks turning red, his shyness giving itself away. But still, he didn't flinch. He faced the audience and took a deep breath and then the words began to flow from his mouth as he closed his eyes. His memories taking him back to those long-ago days. Days of suffering and pain. Days of death and destruction. Days of longing. Longing for this life he had now, even though back then, he couldn't possibly imagine how lucky he would be with his Anna.

Maxwelton's braes are bonnie,

Where early fa's the dew,

'Twas there that Annie Laurie

Gi'ed me her promise true.

Gi'ed me her promise true -

Which ne'er forgot will be,

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I'd lay me down and dee.

Her brow is like the snaw-drift,

Her neck is like the swan,

Her face it is the fairest,

That 'er the sun shone on.

That 'er the sun shone on -

And dark blue is her e'e,

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I'd lay me down and dee.

Like dew on gowans lying,

Is the fa' o' her fairy feet,

And like winds, in simmer sighing,

Her voice is low and sweet.

Her voice is low and sweet -

And she's a' the world to me;

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I'd lay me down and dee.

Richards, James, Oliver, Alexander, and so many others came to his mind. Friends he lost on the battlefield. Friends who would beg him to sing, to make the ache for their loved ones less painful. He opened his eyes, and they were brimmed with tears. Yes, tears had been shed but he wasn't alone. The people in the mighty Great Hall joined him in his mourning for those times, and for those men. They became alive, even for just one moment, through everyone's tears. Most of them hadn't made it back. Many years had passed, but they would never be forgotten. Never. They would visit him in his dreams, in memories and thoughts. They would always be shadows and his past. John would always remember those times. And when he looked at Robert again he saw them. Laughing around him. Telling dirty jokes and singing. Defending the Crown and holding pictures of beautiful ladies in their hands until they fell asleep. No, they would never be forgotten. Robert nodded, tears gathering at his eyes, his lips quivering. He raised his glass to John and gave him a small smile. 'To our brothers,' he whispered. They would always live in their memories. Forever.

- The End -

You can find the song 'Annie Laurie' on Youtube.

Thank you for reading :)