Every Christmas with the Bransons is Special

PRESENT, 1921

“She’s alive, I know she is,” Rose whispered as she rocked her body to and fro, “I can feel it; I can feel her.”

Atticus moved over a strand of her hair that had fallen from its place. He was concerned about her, she had been saying things like these a lot lately. He knew she missed her sister, but was the feeling really so intense that it made her believe that Lady Sybil still lived?

“Rose, you need to rest,” he told her quietly.

“I don’t need anything!” Rose spat, “I only need to find my sister!”

“Rose, you need to calm down,” Mary was the one to speak now. She had been watching the entire scene from afar, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear everything that had been said, “If you keep talking like that, you are going to upset Tom.”

“But it is true! You all know it’s true!” Rose spat again, “Just because she has been missing for a year doesn’t mean she’s dead! She was a fugitive, of course she had to run away; but that doesn’t mean she’s dead!”

Robert walked furiously towards his youngest daughter. He couldn’t allow her to speak like that about Sybil, not in front of all their guests. He was tired of hearing her words over and over again. Rose was simply mad, and he needed someone to take care of that.

“Next word I hear you mutter about Sybil, and you’ll be leaving this house again!” he stated grabbing her wrist with all his force. He knew he was being harsh, but that was the only way he could make Rose understand that she needed to keep her mouth shut, “Is that clear?!”

“So what’s your condition?” Sybil asked to Tom, “I hope it’s nothing too bad.”

Tom locked eyes with her for a moment, then he moved his sight to the teacup in his hands. “It’s just a heart murmur. The doctor says it’s nothing too bad, but it makes it impossible for me to fight at the front.” he said serious.

Sybil nodded. “Well, I’m glad to hear it’s nothing too bad, and I’m sorry if you were expecting to go there and fight. It must be tough.”

Tom was still staring at his teacup, but he smiled, and Sybil swore her stomach was clenching. “I just wanted to be someone.” he whispered.

Sybil wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone to hear what he said, and seeing that Matthew, Gwen and William were too busy talking about something Sybil couldn’t find herself paying attention to, she realised that he didn’t. She felt confused as to what to do for a second, but she opted for doing something nice for the handsome young man.

“I’m sure you will,” she said sincerely, then he grabbed one his hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, “Becoming a soldier isn’t the only way. To me, you’re already someone. You’re Matthew’s clever friend.”

Tom looked at Sybil’s delicate hand holding his, and he smiled. “What makes you think I’m clever?” he then asked cheekily.

“Well, I always end up finding you at the library, and if a man takes enough time to read a book, then he is clever. He’s automatically clever. Most men don’t even care for a book nowadays. If they read, it’s because they have been forced, and I’m sure that you’re not being forced.” Sybil responded innocently.

“Well, I’m sorry to break it you, but I’ve been reading all those books because I owe a project to one of my professors,” Tom said, still being cheeky, “However, I do enjoy reading every now and then, though I tend to do that in the privacy of my dorm room.”

“Oh! Well, I hope you get to finish that project on time.”

“I did last night, actually,” he said, “Professor Carson will tell me my grade by Monday. Hopefully he will like it. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Sybil said reassuringly, “What career are you pursuing?”

“Accounting. I know it’s not exactly the most interesting career, but I find it somewhat interesting. My father also told me that it was the most likely to take me somewhere. He doesn’t want to see me in the streets.” Tom replied.

“You don’t sound too convinced.”

“If you mean, ‘that doesn’t sound like what you want to do for a living’, then I’m afraid you’re right,” Tom said staring at his teacup again, he seemed rather sad, and Sybil felt a little part of herself going down as well, “That’s definitely not what I want to do for a living.”

“Then what is it?” Sybil asked curious, moving her chair closer to him, “What do you want to do for a living?”

Tom let out a deep sigh, but he turned to look at Sybil again, and somehow she found that to be a little more reassuring. “I wanted to create a book store, mainly focusing in books written by women. I have always been a feminist, and giving as as much credit to women as I possibly can is… I suppose it is my passion. If I could, I would have been a suffragette, though I’m not sure that would have been possible,” he said quietly, and he locked eyes with Sybil, who had been smiling the entire time, “I probably sound like an absolute fool at the moment, but it’s something I’m rather proud of. Women deserved… Still deserve much more than they get.”

“That's… That’s beautiful.” Sybil whispered.

“Well, I’m glad to be able to find someone who doesn’t mock me for it.”

Sybil shook her head. “Of course I don’t! I am a feminist myself, and I wished I had been given the opportunity to be a suffragette. As well as you, I would have risked my life to fight for what is right,” she said cheerfully, “I honestly would have never imagined you to be a feminist, but it’s relieving.”

“Well, I’m glad to find someone who supports feminism as well.”

“I think any woman who doesn’t is probably too ignorant to even think of what she’s saying,” Sybil stated, “Though I’m no one to judge any of them. Sometimes it’s easier to say nothing and stay with the same life we’ve always had because we’ve been used to this our entire lives, and it’s easier to not change things, to not fight. People are afraid of fighting.”

Tom smiled again, and he was thankful for having been able to meet Sybil. She made him smile more than any other person he had ever met, and only had just met a couple of hours before.

Sybbie Branson’s favourite thing about Christmas wasn’t the presents, nor the food. Her favourite thing about Christmas was the opportunity ti decorate the Christmas tree with her cousins and aunts, with her mother and father cheering her at every moment, with the wonderful joy that was spending time with her family.

"I don’t know why I’m so nervous…you would think it was my first day," he chuckled as a means to lighten his mood.  Sybil’s smile was kind, but also a bit sympathetic. 

"You’ve been wonderful with her," she murmured as she removed her dressing gown.  "It’s understandable that you’ll miss your ‘daddy and daughter time’," she softly teased.  It had always been their plan that after Sybil resumed her work at the hospital, he would be the parent that would stay and home and help with raising Sybbie until she was old enough to go to school.  So yes, he was feeling a bit sad for himself that those days were over, in a manner of speaking.

"Seems only yesterday, you know?" he sighed.  "When she was a wee little thing."

Sybil smiled and nodded her head before climbing into bed next to him.  “I’ll go with you tomorrow, as we take to school.  You can walk me to the hospital afterwards.”

Tom nodded, but sighed and knew he wasn’t going to get a great deal of sleep that night.  “At least she’s excited,” he murmured after shutting the lamp off. 

"She’s always enjoyed being around other children," Sybil replied as she settled herself in her husband’s arms.  "And she has a love for learning, thanks to her Da."

"Thanks to both of us,” Tom was quick to add.  “Her mother is always reminding her that ‘girls can do anything boys can do’.”

The next day Sybbie was bouncing on her heels as her parents walked with her to school, each holding a hand.  She kissed them both on the cheek, handed Mr. Rabbit to her father, asking him to take care of him until school was over, and then waved at her parents as she turned to join her fellow classmates who were lining up outside the building.  Sybil reached for Tom’s hand then and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “She’ll be alright,” she assured him, softly.  “And so will you.”

Tom nodded, blinking his eyes in an effort to keep himself from crying, squeezing his wife’s hand to show her he was grateful for her words.  And of course Sybil had been right, because when he came to the school later to pick Sybbie up, the child squealed and rushed to him, babbling all about the things she had done that day, the friends she had made and the lessons she had learned, snatching Mr. Rabbit back and giving the toy a kiss before kissing her father.  But Tom’s heart did warm when she said, “I love school, but I did miss you.”

"I missed you too, my darlin’," he answered, kissing her cheek and then swinging her up into his arms, grinning at her squeal as he placed her on his shoulder.  "But I’m glad you had a good day; very glad.  Let’s get some ice cream to celebrate!"

"YAY!" Sybbie cheered.  "Can we take some ice cream to Mummy at the hospital?"

Tom smiled.  “You know?  I think we can; I think Mummy would very much like to hear all about your first day of school.”

"Out of the Blue" by gothamgirl28

Formby August 1936. Sixteen year old Sybbie Branson saves a life, which leads to the unexpected revealing of a family secret.

November 1918

It was too soon.

That’s all that went through his head, a calm thought, just moments before panic gripped him, driving out all reasonable thought.

“Mr. Branson,” Mrs. Hughes huffed. “Are you listening to me? Go and fetch the doctor. Now!”

It made no sense. Her words had meaning, meaning he understood, but the implications ran too deep, choking out his ability to respond.

Without thought, without preamble, he ran, dashing up the stairs that were forbidden him.

“Mr. Branson! Where do you think you’re going?” the housekeeper shouted, surprised by his actions.

He paid no mind as he continued his flight, up higher and higher, continuing on up the grand staircase, ignoring the gasps of the servants as they bustled about their work. He knew where she was, where to find her.

Without hesitation he ran down the hall leading to her bedroom, not stopping until he found himself outside her door, face to face with her father.

“Branson!” Lord Grantham snapped. “What the devil are you doing up here?”

Tom’s already frantic heart seemed to want to beat out of his chest, but fear and love were powerful motivators and a defiant mask slipped into place as he ignored his Lordship and pushed his way into her room.

“Branson?” he heard Lady Edith cry, her shock reflected on the face of her mother, Lady Grantham, though a bit less so on Lady Mary’s. But Tom had no patience with any of them, his eyes immediately falling to the figure on the bed.

“Tom,” she sobbed, all inhibitions lost. “It’s too early…the baby…”

He fell to his knees beside her bed; his large hand engulfing hers as the fingers of his other hand tenderly smoothed her hair.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “I’m here.”

He heard movement behind him, heard the silent judgment and recrimination. Slowly he turned his face to Lord Grantham’s, saw the lowered brows of uncertainty just moments before the older man’s wrinkled skin smoothed as realization dawned.

“No,” Robert whispered. “Dear God, no.”

Tom had no hope to give the man, merely answering with a hard, unflinching stare, confirming the Earl’s suspicions.

Unable, or perhaps simply unwilling, to deal with the repercussions, Tom turned from him, once again focusing on his wife, her miserable, sad expression enough to break his heart.

Their whole world was about to come crashing down on top of their heads.

“Oh Tom,” she moaned.

"She forgot all about the snow that covered her as his arms tightened around her, as his lips kissed hers, deeply and passionately, quite literally stealing her breath.  He felt so strong and warm and safe and wonderful.  She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this…perhaps never?"

- From “Snow" by Yankee Countess and her Suzy AU

Sybil smiles and leans into his shoulder. They sit quietly for a moment, both contemplating the step they are about to take. Tom looks down at the fine leather gloves covering her fingers. They are in stark contrast to the faded dark grey wool of his trousers on which her hands now rest. This is his best suit, and though several years old, it’s in what he would consider good condition. But everything on his person looks aged … cheap … compared with her attire. She seems to sense that there’s something wrong and she brings up one of her gloved hands to tilt his chin back toward her.

“Is everything all right?” She asks quietly.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Of course, I’m sure. I said I wanted to marry you and I meant it, Tom.”

Tom’s eyes sparkle as she says the words. “I know you did. I wasn’t speaking so much about our getting married as I was, well … eloping. We could just go back to Ireland. Have a wedding, of sorts—a story that we’d not be embarrassed to tell our children.”

“I think I would be very happy to tell any son or daughter of mine that when we decided to get married, we went on a secret adventure.”

Tom laughs heartily at her words. “I’m afraid your family won’t see it that way, nor mine, really.”

“That’s because they don’t see me.”

“Their fault.”

Sybil smiled against the kiss as Tom’s hands move up into her hair. Her fingers sliding through his hair and a gasp comes out as his lips move down to her jawline and then continue down to her neck, slightly pushing her against the armrest of the couch.

Eyes closed she moaned as Tom sucks on the pulse point on her neck. It’s only when Tom’s hands start to unbutton her blouse that she remembers that she was here to get the book she had forgotten last week for the train tomorrow.

“Tom I- ohhhh I really can’t stay,” Tom hummed in agreement but continued to kiss down her neck and as his hands start to caress her breasts.

It’s several minutes later and several lengthy kisses later before Sybil has the fortitude to pull apart from him. “I really should go.”

Licking his lips Tom glances out the window. “It’s up to your knees out there.” Rubbing her shoulders he adds, “You’ll freeze before you even get to your car.”

Sybil laughed. She couldn’t really blame him for trying. Since their fifth date they’ve spent practically every night together. “Snow boots.”

Tom sighed but nodded. Pressing a quick kiss to her lips he asked, “How about a drink before you go?”

"I…I need to stroke my hair…"

Tom lifted his head, looking confused. Stroke her hair?

That brief moment of confusion was enough for Sybil to spin out of his arms, grab her dressing gown, and throw it over her body, thus shielding her semi-nude flesh from his eyes. She then proceeded to sit down at her vanity once again, and picked up a hairbrush.

Rock of the Seals by cassiemortmain​

Sybil and Tom having a honeymoon