Title: A Period Of Adjustment
Rating: T (to be on the safe side)
Pairing: John and Anna Bates
Spoilers: This takes place post the Christmas Special so up to and including that is fair game.
Summary: His release was only the start of it.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Julian fellowes. I merely play for no financial gain and return them relatively unscathed.
Authors Notes: Never one to write too much fluff I decided Bates' homecoming might not be all fluffy bunnies and reunion sex.

A Period Of Adjustment

Part One

Clouds had littered the sky all day, threatening a light splattering of rain but had finally come to nothing. As day turned into night the clouds had dissipated leaving a clear sky in their wake and a beautiful unhindered view of the stars. It was almost a perfect Spring night.

John Bates took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh Yorkshire air as he crunched across the gravel towards the rolling green lawn.

"Go on girl," he urged, lightly tapping the Labrador with his hand.

She briefly turned her head in acknowledgement before she took off across the lawn.

Turning, John glanced back at the house, marvelling, as he did every night, at how imposing it must seem to strangers but for him it was the closest thing he had ever had to a home. He had not realised how much he had missed it in the intervening months, caught up in his own misery and despair. Seeing it for the first time convinced him that he was really free. Even in darkness he could make out the grandeur and the craftsmanship, each window hiding a story, a secret behind each door. During the day he allowed himself to get caught up in the hustle and bustle that came with a big house but at night the house had a stillness about it, a calm which he allowed to wash over him, restoring the balance of his soul.

The family had retired for the night, and their work done for the day the staff had followed soon after, or at least most of them had. John still had one last thing to do. He turned back to his charge, his eyes finding the pale yellow dog in the distance and whistled once.

Isis ran full pelt across the lawn, rounding the tree and heading back into the darkness, her boundless energy in stark contrast to the lethargy of the house and of the man who stood beneath the tree. There were many who would say that walking the masters dog was beneath a man of his position but he enjoyed being outside at the end of the day. It was a moment of solitude, a moment of freedom, and there had been little of that in the past few months. Alone, no one watched over him, and he could allow himself to be afraid, to be sad and to be happy without someone asking if he was alright, or a concerned look being shot in his direction. Not that he didn't appreciate them all, he just didn't deserve it and sometimes it became a little overwhelming.

His lips quirked up in a smile as he finally heard footsteps on the gravel. The gentle crunch was unmistakable and there was no need for him to look to know who it was. "You shouldn't be out here," he called into the night. There was no annoyance in his tone, merely mild amusement that she remained so predictable.

"I was wondering if you were planning to stay out here all night," Anna said with a hint of concern. She had waited at the top of the first flight of stairs, her arms wrapped around her knees as she silently counted the minutes since he left the house. The urge to run after him had been strong but she was perceptive enough to see that after a few minutes walking he was almost the man she fell in love with. Almost.

John felt his wife's presence beside him as her arm gently brushed his and they stood side by side, staring into the night. "Summer's coming."

"Mr Bates . . . John," she corrected, still not used to the familiarity.

"Anna," he whispered, mild frustration in his tone. "It's cold out." What he really meant but seemed unable to articulate in his present state was that he didn't want to have a difficult conversation, not yet and not when the night seemed almost perfect. He felt the absence of her arm almost immediately and then her hand on his arm.

"I wish you could talk to me. I knew there would be a period of adjustment, but this . . ." she trailed off, unwilling to pick a fight. It had been two weeks since he had been released and to her it felt like part of him had never returned. Every meal they sat side by side at the table as they always had, sharing antidotes of their day, but his laughter was forced, his attention wavering, and every night his lips brushed her cheek before they returned to their own and very separate rooms. It was becoming a pattern and although she didn't want to be angry at him, deep down it broke her heart.

John Bates turned to look at his wife, his expression one of incredible sadness. "I'm sorry I am a disappointment."

"No," she said emphatically, squeezing his upper arm. "No, you are not a disappointment. Not to me, not to any of us. I will not have you taking this all upon yourself."

"I need a little time." It had become his mantra to the point that he was almost starting to believe it.

"And I am more than willing to give it to you. But I love you, I have spent a year longing for you."

His lips tweaked upwards, wondering how one so young could be so free with words, so open with emotions when he could not. Then he was older, more cynical, more damaged. Quietly, he reached out and grasped her small delicate hand in his. "I love you too."

He heard the silent stamp of her boot as she contemplated her next remark, torn, he knew between demands and platitudes.

There was another flash of yellow fur and the dog landed at his feet. Crouching, carefully he rubbed her head. "Good girl."

"Me or the dog?" Anna asked mischievously, her head tilted to one side, realising that their time was coming to an end and she would not get her answers that night. Better that they parted happy than with sadness.

John shook his head. "Definitely her." Sometimes it was easier than it should be but then the self imposed boundaries came to the fore and he retreated back into himself. "Isis is ready for bed. You should get some rest too." He rose to his feet and stretched his back.

Anna's eyes took on a dark glint in the moonlight, born of frustration, a different kind this time. "John," she said, her voice barely a whisper, her tone raspy.

John finally turned to glance down at her, taken aback but not completely surprised when her hand made its way around his neck and she tugged him towards her, pressing her lips firmly against his. His hand released hers and he clasped her to him, deepening the kiss. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to take her to their marital bed but he knew he couldn't, not yet but still held the hope that one day he would be able to. Gently he put distance between them, the kisses reducing in their ardour, his hand reclaiming hers.

He knew he should explain, find the words, but he couldn't. Loving her was the sweetest thing in his life but there was an ugliness to him now, one he had to overcome, alone. "I'll walk you in."

"I'm not sure Mrs Hughes would like that," she replied, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Really?" he asked, suppressing a grin. "And why is that?"

"She doesn't like followers crossing the threshold."

John laughed, a slight crinkling at his lips but it failed to reach his eyes. "I think she'll make an exception in this case." He squeezed her hand as they walked, silence echoing between them as they entered the courtyard and then the house.

Finally she spoke, her words quiet and assured and she released his hand. "You may not be ready Mr Bates. You may think me too fragile, but know this I love you, and when you are ready to talk I am here. I won't run and it won't change my feeling towards you. However, whenever, whatever," she said, giving him the brightest of smiles. "Goodnight, my darling."

"Goodnight, Anna." He watched her as she headed up the stairs, turning every few steps to look at him, a faint blush crossing her cheeks as he continued to stare after her. When she finally disappeared from view he let out a low chuckle, reminded, as if he needed to be, why he loved her so much.

John climbed the stairs to the first floor, opening the door to allow the dog to claim her basket before he climbed the remaining flight of stairs to the attic. His eyes briefly drifted to the connecting door that separated the male and female corridors. As much as he told himself it was for the best it didn't make it any easier knowing she was asleep just doors away. He let out a deep sigh as he closed his bedroom door and began to undress for bed.

Loving Anna and the possibility of having her to come home to was probably the only thing that had gotten him through prison. Knowing that he may never get to hold her properly in his arms again, that there would never be a dozen little Anna's for him to indulge had nearly broken him. He had clung instead to the one night they had shared as husband and wife until he was no longer sure what was reality and what was a dream. His release should have brought joy, brought him running into her arms. It hadn't. Instead he had scars, deeper more painful ones than the loss of his limb or memories of war. He needed a period of adjustment, a need to feel human and worthy before he could take her in his arms again. But scars were easy to cover up, not so easy to heal.

Laying his clothes neatly over the chair, he made his way to the bed. A smile tweaked at his lips as he caught sight of the small frame on the table. She looked so beautiful, her hair cascading over her shoulders, her smile radiating across her face. He allowed his fingers to delicately trace her features, wondering how long he could survive on stolen moments and late night kisses when she was all he wanted. Placing the frame back he pulled the woollen blanket over him and settled down. Sleep would either be evasive as on so many other nights or he would drift off immediately, his dreams always of her, his pain always so much worse on waking.