A/N: Apologies for the delay, dears! This chapter is quite long, so maybe that'll make up for the wait ;) Thanks so much for all the latest reviews, I appreciate each and everyone! You guys rock! So here's our AU happy ending, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading :)

Downton Abbey, two days later.

Mary put the tea cup down on the bedside table, right next to an assortment of fresh fruits and pastries that Anna had brought her. She was fussing over her almost as badly as Matthew these days.

With a contented sigh, she turned towards the man next to her in bed.

Matthew was laying flat on his back with two hot water bottles stuck underneath him. Despite all her protests he had insisted on carrying Mary back to the car, then into the hospital, then back up to Duneagle. The rattling of the train back home the next day had finally confirmed what Mary had predicted. He'd strained his lower back.

In the end, Mary felt a lot more sprightly after giving birth than her poor husband did. Matthew for his part didn't seem to mind this temporary incapacitation too much. He was positively delighted to share the time of Mary's confinement in bed with her and their son. It was the sort of simple togetherness as a 'twosome' he'd always craved with Mary since they got married and moved in with the rest of the family.

Only that now they were a 'threesome'.

Mary had placed the little one face-down on Matthew's warm chest. Baby seemed to love that. The steady rise and fall paired with the strong beat of his father's heart lulled him to sleep quite nicely.

When she tore her eyes away from the adorable sight, Mary found Matthew watching her. His fingers tugged on her arm and she knew what he wanted without him having to spell it out. So she indulged him with a lingering kiss.

Soon, however, their eyes wandered down again to the miniscule person slowly bobbing up and down on Matthew's torso. His tiny fists were clenching the dark blue fabric of his father's pyjamas.

The very sight of him was still so new, so miraculous that they couldn't get enough of it.

Mary sighed again and leaned her head against Matthew's shoulder, as she let her thoughts drift back to the events of the past two days...

The search party had taken her and baby to the hospital in Duneagle village, where the doctor assured them that both mother and child were perfectly healthy. Dr. Logan had scratched his grey head when he heard about the unusual birth. After everything, there was not much to be done but to clean them up and order rest and relaxation.

Back at Duneagle Castle, chaos ensued. Rose got so excited that she knocked over a footman carrying a tray with champagne. Her mother wasn't pleased. Cora and Violet were gushing over the baby for nearly an hour, until Matthew pulled him out of their clutches and brought him upstairs to Mary. No one had seen Edith that night. She was hiding away with Michael Gregson, though all she really wanted was to see if Mary was alright and look at her little nephew.

Later that night, there was some debate about whether or not they should depart the next morning. Rose bobbed up and down, begging for them to stay so she could spend more time with the 'wee thing'. The Flintshire's of course insisted that the family was welcome at Duneagle for as long as it took Mary to recover.

Matthew was relieved, as were Robert and Cora, but Mary would have none of it. "I'm quite well." she assured them. "Sitting around in a train compartment won't kill me." she had blurted unthinkingly and quickly regretted her choice of words when she saw her mother's face turn ashen.

"My darling, we mustn't take any risks. This had been traumatic enough." Matthew told her as he put the baby back into Mary's arms. "I'm sure it was for you." she smirked, then took his hand in hers. "Thank you for what you did, Matthew."

He smiled at her bashfully, though she could tell he was rather proud of himself as well as her. "I could never thank you enough for this." he carefully stroked a hand over the small head of their sleeping son. All clean and dry, they could see that the copious amount of fine hair that crowned him was indeed blonde. He was a miniature Matthew, just what Mary had wished for.

And so they had spend their last night in Scotland curled up together in their guest bed. Mary of course fell asleep swiftly from sheer exhaustion, but Matthew stayed up, anxiously watching over his wife until the sun rose. Sybil had also seemed fine at first...and then...

Later on the train, it had become evident that Matthew had strained his back badly. He was hobbling, half bent over. Mary couldn't help but whisper "Hunchback of Notre Dame." to baby whenever she saw his father approach. More than anything she was simply furious that Matthew kept making light of it, though she could plainly see the agonized expression he tried to conceal. "It's nothing." he repeated at least fifteen times to various people until they pulled into Downton station, by which time he had to be helped out of the compartment by Robert.

Doctor Clarkson was ordered to Downton immediately and prescribed bed rest for both husband and wife. "Just like our honeymoon." Matthew had grinned and quirked a flirtatious eyebrow at Mary. "Hardly." she had sniffed, but offered him a kiss nonetheless.

So in the end, the new parents happily resigned themselves to spending the next week in bed.

A day before their arrival, Robert made a telephone call to Downton, reporting the good news to the staff. Mrs. Hughes had to pour Carson a generous glass of whiskey and pat his hand for half an hour until he was composed enough to let go of the telephone and rise from his chair. When he did, however, there was no stopping him. The whole house was to get a proper going over and all the staff needed to line up in the entrance hall to welcome the family. "Don't you think this is a bit ridiculous?" Mrs. Hughed chided. "One would think we're expecting royalty."

"We're expecting the future Earl of Grantham, Mrs. Hughes. Anything less would be ridiculous." Carson had replied with an air of absolute detemination. Eventually, Mrs. Hughes decided to indulge him, knowing how important this moment was for him. She suspected that deep down in his heart, Carson had just become grandfather.

And indeed, as soon as mother and child entered the great hall of Downton Abbey, Lady Mary made her way over to the butler, a broad smile on her face. With some trepidation, Carson had received the squirming bundle she offered him to hold. "There Carson, I told you not to fret." Mary said softly.

Carson's mouth stood open at the sight of his future Earl. "He looks like...Milady." he muttered in awe, but Mary shook her head. "Only when his eyes are closed." With some amusement she watched Carson't expression change from wonder to pride and then to concern. "And Milady is..."

"Perfectly well, Carson. Honestly. You had better worry about my husband..." Mary assured him, throwing a backward glance at Matthew, who slowly made his way over to them, wincing at every step. She was glad to see that Dr. Clarkson and Isobel were already present to attend to him.

While Mary helped getting Matthew upstairs and into bed, Mrs. Hughes cleared her throat. "Mr. Carson, I think you ought to hand the babe over now..." She whispered, nodding her head towards a beaming Tom Branson. Carson looked affronted for only a second, then released Lady Mary's son to his uncle-in-law, albeit rather grudgingly.

"What's his name?" Tom wondered, addressing Cora and Robert. "They haven't decided yet." the latter said, shaking his head a little. He was pushed aside when Isobel came bustling in, her face pink with excitement. Matthew was being taken care of upstairs, so she was finally at liberty to admire her first grandchild. Tom placed him gently in her arms. "There's your Nan." he grinned.

Unlike everyone else, except Cora, Isobel didn't even try to conceal her tears of joy. "Oh, he's simply...precious. And so much like Matthew." Isobel gently stroked a finger over the pudgy cheek. "Wait until he opens his eyes..." Cora gushed over Isobel's shoulder, her fingers already itching to hold the baby again.

Tom returned with Sybbie on his arm and pointed at the baby. "Look there, love. That's your little cousin. With him, you'll never get bored around here." he said fondly and pressed a kiss to his daughter's round cheek. Cora stared at them tearfully. "I wish Sybil was here. She would've been so terribly excited for Mary." She and Tom shared a moment of grief for the absent child.

"Where's Edith?" Isobel inquired. Cora's face fell some more. Edith had begged to go to London for a while, to stay with Rosamund. She had wanted to apologize to Mary, but Matthew was adamant that Mary needed rest. In the end they had all decided that it might be for the best to let Edith stay in the city for the time being. It was this one sad circumstance that marred their joy these days. However, Cora was as always positive that everything would be resolved eventually.

"How's Matthew?" Cora asked Isobel to deflect from the Edith situation. "Oh, he'll be as right as rain in a week or two. He needs bed rest, that's all. I still don't understand what he did to his back to get into such a state? The doctor had told him two years ago that he should mind what he's lifting." Isobel said disapprovingly. Cora smiled. Clearly, she wasn't the only mother with an unreasonable child or two.

"You must stay for dinner of course." she offered, nodding to Mrs. Hughes to pass it on to the kitchen. They would have guests tonight to celebrate their new family member, even if his parents were forced to celebrate on their own over a tray of food upstairs...

Mary sighed against Matthew's shoulder, glad to have finally found some peace and quiet with her little family. Sometime before dinner, she had asked Anna to try and get the baby. It was quite a wrestle. Anna actually needed to prise the baby out of Lord Grantham's fingers. Dr. Clarkson had to offer him a glass of whiskey as a distraction.

"Anna said Papa and Carson were parading him around to staff and guests as if he were the next heir to his Majesty's throne, rather than the son of a middle-class lawyer." Mary huffed and Matthew chuckled at the irony of it.

"Growing up, I'm sure you never imagined you'd give birth to the baby of a lowly middle-class lawyer..." he teased her and she playfully pinched him in the side. "No. I didn't." Mary had to admit after all.

"Papa and Carson are so ridiculously excited, I thought they'd start dancing a jig together." Mary snorted delicately at the image. Matthew glimpsed down at his son. He himself felt ready to explode with pride. "I'm dancing a jig...or I would be, if I could move an inch."

Mary smiled ruefully at his discomfort, then frowned as something occured to her. "Don't be offended if they start calling him the heir now...I'm afraid some people will consider you to be merely a 'place holder' for the real thing now." She glanced up at Matthew to see his reaction and was surprised to find him looking a tad anxious.

"Am I only a 'place holder' to you?" He tried to sound light, but Mary wasn't fooled.

She reached a hand up and caressed his left ear. "To me, you are entirely irreplaceable." Mary whispered. His expression changed immediately and he pulled her in for a sound kiss. "And you are to me." Matthew said earnestly, though he couldn't surpress a satisfied grin.

Back on his shoulder, Mary pursed her lips, then smiled wickedly. "I should warn you though. Sooner or later you must get used to the idea of sharing me with another man."

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Mary felt Matthew's whole body tense and stiffen. She could even hear his heart rate pick up beneath her ear. Baby noticed the change in his sleeping accomodation as well.

"What?" he gasped, sounding strangled. His panic only lasted about three seconds, then he felt Mary's snicker reverberating against his shoulder.

"Oh, Matthew." she breathed and he spotted her hand creeping up to the 'man' who was still snoring on his chest. "That was mean." Matthew informed her, though he was laughing with relief. "Cruel, cruel woman." he scolded until she kissed his irritation away.

Mary's fingers alternately caressed Matthew's arm and the wee little fist of the baby. Suddenly, his miniscule digits opened and he grasped his mother's finger with surprising strength. She smiled.

"Why do you suppose he wanted to be born at that very moment?" Matthew mumbled after a while. "I don't know..." Mary shrugged, "Coincidence, I suppose."

Matthew thought about that. "I'm not sure. He could have come a day later, or half a day even...and everything might have been different." He shook his head slightly on the pillow.

Mary frowned. "Yes..I might have had him on the train between Duneagle and Downton. Now that would have been great fun. With an audience of train passengers." Matthew chuckled at her forbidding tone.

"Or we could have been here or in the hospital and I'd have driven everyone mad because there'd be nothing to do but drink entire decanters of brandy to calm my nerves. In the end they'd have found me under the table..."

They laughed, clinging tighter to each other. The very idea that something might have occured, the slightest alteration, that could have made this moment, anything other than what it was now, felt disconcerting to them.

"I'm so lucky to have you." Matthew mumbled, rubbing his nose in Mary's fragrant hair. "Me too." She didn't know why she suddenly had tears in her eyes, but she hoped he wouldn't notice.

Baby moved a little on his perch. Matthew's talking and laughing must have disturbed him.

"Look at those fat little arms and legs." Mary exclaimed suddenly, her voice almost unfamiliar with rapture. She leaned up and kissed one pudgy baby cheek. Matthew watched them besottedly. Had there ever been anything more beautiful on this earth? He doubted it.

"Matthew?" She sounded tense all of a sudden and he got slightly worried. The scare of a Sybil-like turn was still upon him. "Yes? What is it?"

"How did you know?" Mary eyed him quizzically. He was confused. Know what?

"When you said you'd know how to deliver the baby...and that I should be...squatting. How did you know these things?" She had not given it much thought in the past days, too preoccupied with their son and Matthew's back condition. To her surprise, Matthew blushed. "I've...read a book." he admitted reluctantly. Mary rolled her eyes.

"Goodness...please tell me it wasn't in 'Expert advice for expecting mothers'" she scoffed while her hand sneaked up to fiddle with a strand of Matthew's golden hair. "No no...that one was useless. You were perfectly right to do what you did with it!" Matthew said languidly, enjoying her ministrations.

"Then what was it?"

He wished he could sit up properly, but that was out of the question. Matthew sighed. "I didn't tell you about this...because you were so against me reading those medical books." He paused, gauging her reaction.

"I wasn't against you reading them per se...but you kept chasing me with them and you read out those unsavoury chapters that I really didn't need to hear about." she clarified, scratching his scalp with her fingers.

For a moment, Matthew simply closed his eyes and purred happily. "Matthew...the book...what was it?" She stopped scratching and nudged him. The movement caused baby to squirm a little.

"Well, the day I was summoned to see Mother...when she berated me about 'smothering' you. Thank you for tattling, by the way." Matthew accused in mock offence. "I spent a while looking through the books in my old study and I found..." his eyes dropped to his son's blonde head.

"...my father's old notebooks."

"Oh." Mary didn't know what to say. "Yes, I...I never read them before. But you know, he was actually an expert in children's medicine. He'd written a lot of papers about it. And..." Matthew paused and took a deep breath.

Mary quickly took up stroking his hair again and he smiled gratefully. "There were entries about the different practices of giving birth. Laying on your back is not the ideal, he wrote. It makes things easier for the doctor, but not the woman..."

"Oh." Mary repeated. "And he wrote that the best position, though not accepted and therefore not practiced in the western world, is kneeling or squatting. I'd read it and dismissed it really. And then it just came to me when we were there and...I never imagined you to do that. I mean, I didn't imagine you'd need to..." he was rambling a little. Mary's fingers ghosted over his lips, so tenderly that he kissed each tip in turn.

"So I have to thank your father in the end." she determined.

Matthew smiled and shrugged slightly. "We have to thank him." he corrected her, lifting his arms with some effort to pull Mary closer, while he tangled their legs together under the covers.

"Am I still your hero...even if it wasn't my own idea?" he asked softly, his expression sliding into a boyish pout. Mary laughed quietly and nodded.

"Always." she whispered and rewarded him with a long and thorough kiss. "And how heroically I carried you everywhere...remember that?" he grinned proudly at her.

Mary cocked her head to the side, one delicate eyebrow raised. "Oh sure...and how heroically you were hobbling around afterwards, my darling, I remember that, too. " she remarked drily, then squealed as Matthew's fingers came to tickle her side mercilessly.

"Shhh...you'll wake the pup." he laughed, his eyes shining with adoration at the sight of Mary's helpless giggles. She was more lovely, more bewitching to him than ever. His heart beat thickly with longing.

"Remember how I carried you up to bed on our wedding night..." he recalled, sounding quite hoarse all of a sudden. Mary's smile turned minx-like. "Of course." she purred, eliciting a groan of desire and frustration from Matthew given their temporary invalidity. Spread-eagled in bed, but barely able to move and touch his beautiful wife was not quite the fun he had previously envisaged for this week...

The low rumbling sounds emanating from Matthew finally woke the sleeping 'pup' on his chest, who swiftly lodged a complaint by bawling angrily at the disturbance. "Ohh dear...come here, my darling." Mary quickly cradled her crying son against her chest and sat up to rock him gently in her arms.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matthew struggling and failing to get a better glimpse when she pulled the front of her gown down. "Don't strain yourself." Mary warned and was rewarded with a scowl.

"I hate my back." she heard him grumbled as he finally gave up his peeking pursuits. "How is he? Is he alright?" Matthew worried after a beat.

"Oh, yes. He's quite jolly again. Aren't you, Reggie?" Mary cooed and cuddled the gurgling baby with unabashed love. Matthew's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "What?"

"I said, he's quite happy again." Mary turned towards her bewildered husband.

"No...what...what did you call him?" Matthew stuttered. He knew what he had heard, but he dared not to believe it. Mary's lips curled into an enigmatic little smile. It gladdened her to see that she was as unpredictable to him as ever.

"Reggie." she repeated and the name already felt natural to her. Matthew's jaw dropped. "But...you didn't want to call him...I thought..."

It was true. Whenever the topic of baby names came up, they had not seen eye to eye. After a lot of discussion, it was settled that Matthew would choose the name for a girl, and Mary for a boy. So Matthew's choice had fallen on 'Elizabeth', after his maternal grandmother, whereas Mary had picked the name 'Henry'.

Mary knew that Matthew secretly would have liked to call his son after his father, but for some reason he had never pressed the matter. And then Granny had made her promise to name the baby 'Henry', after the late Lord Grantham, Robert's father.

All told, Mary had also preferred the timeless ring of 'Henry' to the more serious sound of 'Reginald'.

Until now, that is.

"Mary..." Matthew breathed but said nothing further. Five minutes later, she had effectively put Reggie back to sleep and gently placed him back on his father's belly. Matthew was still watching her. "Why?" he finally whispered.

She pursed her lips in contemplation. "Because...your father helped him into this world and he helped me...indirectly...and he deserves to be remembered, not just for that."

Matthew was silent again as he considered this and Mary could see that he was too moved to speak. His hand sought hers and he interlaced their fingers tightly. She waited.

"You didn't like the name..." he finally argued, though it sounded weak. Still, he needed to make sure that Mary was truly pleased with the decision. "To be honest, darling, I didn't like the name 'Matthew' very much when I first heard it." Mary teased him. Miffed silence greeted her.

"The point is, things change. I love saying your name now...as you might have noticed..." There was a seductive lilt to her voice that quickly did away with Matthew's huffiness. He tugged at her again so she would lean down and offer up her lips as compensation.

"Thank you." he whispered, still touched by her words about his father. "You know I...I didn't just tell you about the notebook so that you would do this." he clarified and she shushed him with another kiss. "I know, Matthew."

He nodded dumbly, wondering again what he did to deserve this woman, who understood what he needed better than he did himself.

Mary replaced her head on his chest and together they watched Reggie, his wee hand still cleaving to Matthew's pyjamas, as if he wanted to make sure his Papa stayed well put. Occasionally, one of his feet would twitch and Mary moved to straighten the tiny sock on it, just to make sure it was still in place. Matthew's finger's were in her hair, stroking languidly through the long silky tresses.

"Alright." he sighed.

Mary turned to look at him. "Alright what?"

"You can cut it off, if you have to." He said and rolled his eyes, smirking at the same time. "Just promise you'll let it grow again one day?"

"My hair?" Mary gasped. Of all the concessions she would have expected Matthew to make in this life time...this was the least expected one. Whenever she showed him pictures of the new bobbed styles in Vogue, he only grumbled and started whining that he loved her long hair.

"Just because I gave him the name you wanted?" She raised an eyebrow, not sure what to think of such an exchange of sacrifices.

"No." he replied and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "I realized that it doesn't matter. Long hair, short hair, grey hair. I love you so much...and I will love you until I die, Mary. Anyway you are." His voice hitched a little and he blinked quickly, struggling with his own emotions.

"You'll always be my Mary. And my Mary is the real Mary..."

A second later, Matthew regretted having said anything at all, for her reaction was the opposite of what he had hoped to see. Instead of replying in kind and showering him with kisses, Mary pushed herself up and carefully removed Reggie from Matthew's chest to place him properly in the crib next to their bed. She tucked the blankets meticulously around the tiny body, all the while ignoring her husband.

With some effort, Matthew raised himself a little, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his lower back. "Mary...I'm sorry..." he said shakily, though he had no idea what could have possibly put her out. Before he could say anything else, Mary had turned around and wordlessly lept onto his prone body.

She kissed every inch of him with abandon. Matthew yelped, then laughed, then groaned, though he was still confused. "My darling." Mary exclaimed as she cradled his face in her hands. "Reggie is lucky to have such a wise and eloquent Papa." she concluded before raining more kisses on him.

Matthew laughed blissfully, causing her to slap a hand over his mouth. "Shhh..." She replaced her hand with her lips then and for a few minutes there was no sound except for the tiniest pips Reggie made in his sleep and the soft sighs coming from his love-drunken parents.

"I wish...we could..." Matthew whispered heatedly and his wife nodded. "I know...me too." With a sigh of regret, Mary moved a little off him, snuggling into his side instead. Matthew's arms held her tightly against him. "Stupid back." he cursed, then licked his lips, enjoying Mary's taste on them.

Mary was in recovery herself, but from what Clarkson mentioned earlier, she might be quicker on her feet than her poor husband. His back wasn't badly injured, just terribly strained. With rest and care, they would both be fit in a week or two. "I'm sorry, my darling." she muttered, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjamas. "Whatever for?" he tried to glance down at her.

"You must hate laying here like this...after..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. Matthew understood nevertheless. To her surprise he smiled. "One would think so." he said softly. "I'd spent so much time confined to a bed...but never like this." She could feel his arms tightening around her once more.

For a moment, Matthew allowed himself to think back to that woeful time. The days and weeks he had spent in a hospital bed, completely motionless, utterly hopeless. His only joy had been Mary's presence, though he could never fully acknowledge or enjoy it. Too painful was the awareness that their time together was transitory. An illusion.

She had belonged to another and he had been nothing but a wreck...

All those lonely nights in his small convalescent room in Downton, tucked into his narrow bed downstairs, while Mary was up here. It had been heaven and hell at the same time to spend his days in her company. To see her face, her form, her every movement and to hear her clear voice as she spoke to him, even when he was too bitter to make much conversation...

It had been his guilty pleasure to enjoy her presence near him, her very existence. But then he would end up alone every night and tears would come to him when he so much as thought of the name Mary.

Back then, he had been convinced that he must never tell her how much he still loved her, because it wouldn't fair on her...she had a real life to look forward to, a happy one without a cripple to interfere with it.

Yes, he'd spent quite a lot of nights laid out in the darkness like a corpse, wishing he was dead.

If only his old bitter self could see him now. Laying in bed with a loving Mary in his arms and their child next to them.

"Matthew?" Mary stared at him worriedly, watching with unease how he blinked furiously up at the ceiling. His lips were pulled down slightly. She instantly regretted bringing up the subject of his paralysis. How stupid of her. Why on earth would he want to think of that now?

"Are you alright, my darling?" Mary didn't know what to do, so she just nudged his chin with her nose a little. Matthew laughed shakily and his eyes quickly found her face.

"I feel..." he burst out, "...I feel as if I swallowed a box of fire crackers."

Mary would have shushed him because of Reggie, but she was so touched by his joy that she could only laugh weakly and kiss him into silence. "You've made me very happy, too." she whispered, using a simpler phrase for Matthew's eloquent metaphor. "Good." he whispered.

For a few minutes, they just gazed at each other. No words were needed. Mary buried her face against his neck, inhaling the scent of happiness. Her arms clung to him in a sudden bout of panic, though she wasn't quite sure why she felt this way at that moment.

The war was long over, he was in no danger, but in that instant Mary resolved that she would protect her husband as fiercely as she had vowed to protect their son from now on. And suddenly she knew that she could bear to lose everything else: Downton, the money, the countess' coronet...

Everything...except the two men who had become her entire world. And she would brave any storm to make sure they would always end up safe in her arms.

"Mary?" Matthew whispered. She had thought he'd drifted off already. "Yes?"

"Will you still love me when I'm old and my back will probably be crooked like this most of the time and I'll be hobbling next to you like the Hunchback of Notre Dame...I did hear you on the train, you know..." he pulled a face and chuckled mirthlessly. Mary bit her lip.

"Darling, you know I hate to be predictable." she reminded him, trying to sound blasé. He was silent and she grinned into his neck, then pressed her lips against it.

"But since you ask so nicely...I'm afraid I will love my Matthew even more then...because my Matthew is the real Matthew. Hobbling or not."

FIN

A/N: If you've survived the fluff overdose, congratulations :) I had to incapacitate Matthew so he wouldn't get into any stupid vehicles, but he seems jolly enough where he is now. I may continue with this AU universe in a sequel story, but for now, I'll get working on These endless days. Thanks so so much for all your support in writing this, for all the lovely reviews and favs and follows. I hope that this AU story made you at least a bit as happy as it made me (long live fanfic denial!) Thanks for reading :)