Here is first chapter of my fanfiction, published over 10 years ago, where I plausibly bring Matthew Crawley back to life.
It is an oldie but a goodie.
'I am the Cat who walks by himself and all places are alike to me.'
It is ironic that I do not remember my own name yet I know that Rudyard Kipling wrote this line. I hear it in my inner voice when I lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling overhead. Since it is one of the few things that I do remember, it is significant, albeit unfathomable. So much is. That is why I am determined to keep this journal. I do not want to forget any more of my life.
My physician, Dr. Head, who bears the perfect name for a neurologist, has explained to me that my brain has suffered a severe trauma. Ostensibly, that is the cause of my memory loss. He has done his best to ease my anxiety over my current state by asserting that retrograde amnesia (which is my diagnosis) is rarely permanent. "Rarely" is good but still leaves room for legitimate concern. I can only hope that I do not join the ranks of the "rare" unfortunates who must forge ahead without full knowledge of themselves or their past. It is a frightening prospect yet one I must face. Fortunately, I am not doing so alone as Dr. Head and his staff here at The London Hospital in Whitechapel are both dedicated to their patients' needs and unfailingly compassionate.
I do not know the exact source of the trauma to my brain but have been told that the injuries I sustained are consistent with an automobile accident. In addition to the head injury that keeps me in the dark, I have four broken ribs, a fractured wrist (luckily, not attached to the hand that I write with) and a very sore back. The pain there is sometimes worse than the headaches that plague me daily.
Dr. Head believes that my back may have been damaged long before whatever accident befell me and this new injury compounded an already existing wound. Perhaps one sustained in the War? There are countless questions and no concrete answers. Yet.
For now I accept that this place, this hospital ward, is my home. And I will respond to the name of "John" as it is the one I have been assigned until I can recall what was given to me at birth. Miss Pomeroy, the nurse who attends to me, pointed out (and rightly so) that "Patient number 9" is entirely too impersonal. After a brief discussion regarding a replacement for it, we have settled on "John" as it seems as good a name as any. No matter what moniker I adopt as my own, I am optimistic that it will be temporary.
For now, I am simply grateful to be alive and healing.
I will end my first entry here as I have grown tired but am exceedingly pleased that I have accomplished my mission in recording my thoughts this day.
AN: This is my first fan fiction. I was motivated to write it by Fellowes' decision to have Matthew Crawley die. Unacceptable. A hefty number of "reviews" will, no doubt, ensure more M/M fans drawn to this story and learning how Matthew could have survived. I know reviewing each chapter can be a bit much, so if you leave a review here and at the end, I would be thrilled.
I hope you will stay with this story through its entirety. I promise by the end of it, I will have provided you a plausible way for Matthew Crawley to return to Downton Abbey.
The Epilogue brings all Downton's characters to 1940 and World War II. I think this would be an excellent way for Downton to close.
FYI: Dr. Henry Head was an acclaimed neurologist that served on staff at the London Hospital at Whitechapel in 1921.
Disclaimer: All characters pertaining to Downton Abbey throughout this story belong solely to Julian Fellowes (though I wish it weren't so)
Check out my AU. I think you will be happy you did.
MsMenna is a fanfiction author that has written 9 stories for Downton Abbey.
titsay
tangentwithtanner
gummygunk
areudirty
