Authors note: Before you read, I'd like to say a few things. This won't be perfect. The characters may not be perfect either. It's fanfiction and you'll need to deal with that. We all know Lizzie is strong and independent, but I think that even the best of us are shaken up after a separating from a relationship. It's sappy. As a fact, I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Now, you've been warned and I hope you enjoy my little story. Happy reading. – SIERRA

The Truth, The Lies, and The Love

Elizabeth was hurting. Her head throbbed, stomach rolled, and heart cracked. Salty tears made their way down her cheeks. Vacillation was like a tidal wave over the vast village of her brain and the citizens residing inside, like love, kindness, and caring. After wiping her face and smearing some mascara on her arm, Lizzie made a decision. She may be hurting but- that sure as Hell didn't mean she would spend any time crying. That jerk didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve anything. She clutched onto her pillow convulsively and brought her knees up to her chest. She hated this… this… feeling of vulnerability. Sitting on her bed, she let herself fall into a small rocking motion. Her mind started to numb with the primitive comfort. Slowly, all intelligible thought left her mind.

That's good, she thought, don't think. If you can keep it up, you can forget him. Forget the way he would….

Lizzie's frizzy blonde curls covered her shoulders. She slowly unclasped one hand from the pillow. Delicate fingers caught a thin curl and rub it between them. She may hate her hair and all its frizzy nature, but Will always adored it.

/\\/\\/\\ FLASHBACK /\\/\\/\\

Lizzie fell into peals of laughter. Will was relentless in his tickling of her. She pushed on his chest as they rolled around on the grass under the tree. The grass was soft on her back and held such a refreshing sent compared to her apartment in the city. It simply wasn't fair that Will could afford to live at such a place… well at least she had a reason to visit.

"Ticklers never prosper! Ticklers never prosper!" she chanted jokingly.

Slowly he let up on his quest. Sitting back, he was content to just watch her. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair tasseled. Lizzie was busy catching her breath when she felt a slight tug on her head. She looked over at Will, slightly confused. His hand covered a section of her hair as he inspected it.

"Your hair is so pretty…"

"It's a weird color and ridiculously unruly."

"No…. all the colors reflect sun differently. All the browns and blondes in it… it's unique, just like you. Different."

The silence after that cheesing but amazingly sweet statement made Lizzie want to run for the hills. She was, to put it in the simplest of terms, socially stunted.

"You know, for most people, unique is the polite way of saying bad."

Will tried to protest but was soon cut off. Lizzie placed a single finger on his mouth and continued to speak.

"But," she exaggerated ", I've never known you to be all that polite so I'll take 'unique' as a compliment, at least, by Darcy standards that is."

/\\/\\/\\ END FLASHBACK /\\/\\/\\

The small memory brought yet another wave of misery to wash over. If he messed it all up… why did she want him so badly?

Lizzie heard the door open and close, instantly knowing it was Jane. She was home at 5:08 every day, ever the consistent roomie.

"Lizzie?"

"In here!" Lizzie called from her room with a slight crack in her voice that she made no attempt to hide. There was no point trying to hide it from Jane. She'd probably already heard about it and if she hadn't… Well Jane had maternal instincts the size of Texas and a heart to match. She'd figure it out. Jane was in the room in ten seconds flat.

"Oh, Lizzie…" Jane murmured softly. "Charlie told me that you broke up with Will. He heard you yelling but then you both left… I mean… what happened? I thought you were happy."

"I got a text from H-h," Lizzie hiccupped ", Henry. He told me that I needed to go get a copy of IN TOUCH weekly and turn to page twenty three."

She pointed to the torn magazine on the bed; Jane reached out to grab it. Turning to page twenty three… well for the second time in her life Jane felt a disappointment so deep it made her stomach churn. It was obvious Lizzie didn't want to talk. Her body was a huddled mass of hurt that wasn't ready to crack its shell, not yet. She'd talk later, right now her best friend and roomier needed distraction.

/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\

"How about we get a movie? Zachary Quinto? Don't you love that one with him…. The Star Trek movie! Or what about Johnny Dep? I thought you wanted to see that one of his… Dark Shadows?"

"You know what Johnny Dep said one time?"

"What?" said Jane, still wary of the suppressed glint in her roommates' eyes.

" ' If you love two people at the same time, choose the second. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second.' Man's a genius I tell you. Why cheat? Save that first person the grief and let them get on with their lives!"

Right then the door bell rang, interrupting the little rant. Jane went to get it but Lizzie stopped her. She was expecting Charlotte (and a big vat of vanilla and caramel ice cream to drown her sorrows in) anyways. She went down the small hallway and to the door. What she opened the door to definitely wasn't Char and certainly wasn't her post break up ice cream. Standing in her door frame was the very reason Elizabeth needed a good ol' misery induced sugar binge.

William had way to much nerve. He had enough nerve to show up. He had enough nerve to look furious. He had enough nerve to look devilishly handsome. His brown hair spiraled down into his vision. His blue eyes sharpened at the sight of Lizzie. His tan freckles marched across his cheeks like an army of ants. In conclusion, the man had some nerve.

/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\

"You!" she practically gasped as she backed away. His hand shot out to stop the door, right as hers moved to slam it in his face. His features were taut and reddened. His hand gripped the door with frightening strength. Jane came up behind Lizzie. The two former sweethearts commenced an intense stare down. When it became apparent that he had no intention of backing down, Elizabeth turned to her roommate.

"Hey, Janie... Would you mind going uptown for some of that pizza? The Sam and Louie stuff?"

Jane was baffled. Her roommate and said roommates very angry ex stood close enough to tear each others throats out, and with the looks in their eyes…. Well…. Ouch. With all of this, Jane was expected to go get some pizza? She looked at Lizzie with a questioning expression.

"I have something I need to take care of," she glared at Darcy ", and I can more than take care of it."

With a small stiff nod she went to walk out. Darcy walked in and Jane looked back, doubting her choice to leave them alone. Lizzie moved her hand in a 'Get along' motion. Feeling extremely conflicted; Jane left the apartment in search of Charlie. He'd know what to do. She'd also call Charolette, tell her not to come by the apartment. Jane doubted that she and her ice cream wanted any part of this.

With Jane gone, Lizzie went back to glaring at Darcy. As he was about to open his mouth she pointed to the living room. The hallway was crowding her and more than anything, Elizabeth Bennet was craving space. After moving into the slightly larger room, Darcy started his line of interrogation.

"What happened this afternoon?! You come into my work screaming your head off, saying we're breaking up, and then you just storm out!"

"Do not make me out to be the villain here! You're the bad one!"

"Would you mind explaining why it is I'm the bad guy all of a sudden?"

Lizzie paused for a second to collect her ever changing thought. Her mind was boiling mad and staring at him only made it worst. She loathed what he did, hated what he did with Caroline… but she loved him still. William Darcy was the man she was bound to hate simply because he made her love him. Why would he be so sweet and attentive if it never even meant anything to him? Even if she did love him, she couldn't ever have him, she wasn't willing to share.

"Caroline Bingley is the why. Love is meant for two people William! Two. What's your excuse, huh? Did you forget how to count?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about!"

There was a slight pause in the screaming. It was then, in that moment, it finally clicked for William Darcy. He understood the screaming, the breakup, everything- just by hearing that name. She thought him capable of cheating and guilty of already doing it too…. with Caroline. The thought made him slightly sick, but that was before the indignation had enough time to fully set in. After it all, after all they'd been through together, she thought he could do that to her, to them?

"I wouldn't do that! Where would you even get an idea like that!?"

She grabbed the beat up rag of a magazine and threw it to his chest. She hissed the page number. That page held the most horrific pictures Elizabeth had ever seen. They weren't of war, weren't of death, weren't of desolation, but of Will and Caroline Bingley sitting together at a café, a simply tasteful French café on the nice side of town, a café that held multiple memories of laughter, tears, and conversation. To anyone else they seemed so innocent, but not to Lizzie. Caroline's hands were all over the man and she looked captivated in his presence. That was their café now…. Not Will and Lizzies. Not anymore at least. Quietly Lizzie whispered ", You said 'I love you'. . .That's supposed to be sacred. Something you mean. . . not- . . . I need you to leave, Will. I just can't deal with you right now."

Will had taken one glance at the photos and felt sick. Recognition and comprehension coursed their way through his veins and into every crevice of his body. Before this, his hope had been waning. Now, hope and something deeper sparked up, telling him to push the limit she had set.

"No."

"It's my apartment. Get out."

"No."

"You can't order me around like one of your overpaid minions!"

"No."

"Oh my god!"

"No, Lizzie. This isn't how it ends. You said you loved me."

"Yes, but you-

"Then you owe me this!" The blues in his eyes were a turmoil of conflicting emotions as he explained ", These pictures are two years old and from a coffee date set up by my aunt. She must have found photos and put them out to this rag now! Can't you see- she's trying to take you away from me!"

It seemed so simple. She knew she could but should she believe him. It would be all too easy to just fall into his arms and be happy. She was deep in a trance of contemplation when she felt hands grab her by the shoulders. Her eyes went straight to the ground. She couldn't take the chance of looking at him, not now. She tried to push him away. Wills hold on Lizzie was strong as iron, but gentle as any embrace he had ever given her.

"Lizzie… Lizzie. Say something. Please Lizzie…. Look at me-"

Her blonde hair swung back and forth as her head shook in a constant no, no, no. She couldn't look, because if she looked, she would melt, and it she melted. . . wouldn't that be giving in?

"Elizabeth."

The word caused her to look up. He never called her Elizabeth. It was almost as if her real name was reserved for the specialist of moments. Lizzie was for everyday, but Elizabeth- that was special, at least to him it was. She was special to him, she realized. He really cared, she mused, otherwise he wouldn't be here. His eyes had always been expressive, she noted. At that moment, they depicted the trademark Darcy honesty.

"You have to believe me. You mean so much to me, Elizabeth. I could never, in all of my life, ever do anything like that to you. You have to understand this."

She believed him. She truly did, there was only a slight problem. Lizzie didn't believe in herself. What if it led to this? What if, one day, this wonderful man realized he could do better? What if she ran out of witty things to say and was left only with boring little old Lizzie? The poor, striving English major, antisocial, secretly shy, imperfect Lizzie. Did he like ancient literature like her? No. Did he stutter when having to talk in front of a crowd like her? Of course not! Did he love her like she loved him- yes… but for how long? There wasn't a chance in Hell that we'd have our fairytale, Lizzie told herself, you're not good enough for this, for him.

The questions swirled around her head, leaving her woozy. They echoed and taunted her like spirits in a cemetery. What if? What if? Did he? Did he? What if? What if?

What. If.

"Will, I'm sorry I- I – I assumed. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you but… What if you do get tired of me? Caroline would be easier."

Will stood still, as did time. He couldn't even grasp her reasoning. There wasn't any way to tire of Elizabeth Bennet, and Lord knew he had tried. He fell for her so easily and helplessly. He had watched the way her delicate hands would grasp an antique book as her eyes glazed over in the pleasure that came with reading it's worn text. At times, it truly seemed she liked books more than people. She had this sort social awkwardness that he adored. She'd rather sit in a library than go to a concert. Every strange quirk he discovered only made him that much more besotted with Lizzie.

"Now, I don't believe in labels most of the time, but I tend to doubt you could ever classify Caroline Bingley as low maintenance let alone 'easier'. That doesn't even matter! I can't get tired of you Lizzie, I know you know that."

Silence engulfed the room. William could hear the slight ticking of a clock in her kitchen. He smelt the lovely coffee aroma her perfume gave off. He saw the look on her face and the clashing emotions it held.

"You have to tell me what you're thinking, Elizabeth. I can't read your mind. Please tell me what's going on in that pretty, little head of yours."

There was another pregnant pause as she contemplated her choices. She could make a joke. Say her head wasn't all that pretty, ask if he really couldn't read minds, or maybe just laugh it off. But no, that was a disguise. She had to be honest here.

"I love you ,Will. More than I realized."

"Is there something wrong with that?" he asked wearily. He wanted this to be over. No arguing, no problems, just him and Lizzie together again. He'd talk to his aunt, and presumably Caroline, later.

"It's scary- I mean it's just really new."

"Hey, honey. It's new for me too. Every time I see you I have to restart my heart and teach me lungs how to breathe again. Never had that before."

Elizabeth silently cursed Will and all his sappiness. She was so used to stoic Will, that whenever his romantic side popped up…. Well it was a seriously pleasant surprise. She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"I don't think love is supposed to deplete you of your oxygen, dummy."

"Hey now, that's not very nice," he said as he settled them both down onto the couch. She let go of him and was content to just lay her head on his shoulder. She let out a small sigh.

"Okay, maybe I can forgive you for the whole dummy thing," he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\

"Would it be bad to say I missed you? That I missed you horribly for that two hours and thirty something minutes?" ask a contemplative Lizzie.

Will glanced at his watch. Before speaking, he pulled Lizzie up to his chest and tucked her head beneath his chin. He smelled like sandalwood and soap.

"Forty three minutes. Two hours and forty three minutes."

/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\

Charlie and Jane leaned against the door. They each brought a hand to their ears and listened in. No one was screaming, no one was crying, just two incandesantly happy people laughing. Simultaneously, they let out relieved breathes they hadn't been aware of holding. Charlie stared at Jane for a moment and smiled.

"I knew they were too good for this."

Authors Note: BAM. Done. Crazy shizznit right there. Yeah, this was written in a splurge so it is pretty chalk full of suck. But I posted it anyway, I mean… well I haven't done anything in a while. Happy November. :)

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