Thomas Barrow, Jimmy Kent, AU
Title: The Dream

I was having a bit of a rough day and this is the result.
Thomas woke with a start. He had dozed off in his chair while watching the fire which was now little more than embers. Standing, he walked to the fireplace and added more coal to it, poking the remnants until they began to flare. He waited for a moment to make sure then returned to his seat.

He had that dream again; the one he hadn't had in a long time. The one about Jimmy. Since leaving Downton, Jimmy had written only a few times a year. As time passed the ache of missing him and the pain of waiting for those letters had eased, but neither had ever gone away. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. That bloody dream. Of course it wasn't always the same dream, but they were similar enough that he could call them "that dream."

They were somewhere alone, sometimes in the country, sometimes in a room, sometimes he couldn't tell where, but Jimmy was always smiling; the smile he kept just for Thomas. Sometimes they held hands, sometimes they kissed and sometimes they just sat shoulder to shoulder and watched the sunset. It was "that bloody dream" because it spoke to everything Thomas could never have.

And now in his final years, in the years he would spend alone, alone as he had always been, it was back to taunt him.