Right Kind of Wrong, a pride and prejudice fanfic

A/N: Okay, so this just HAPPENS to be my Pride&Prejudice-OTP, so please give me a break! I can't help loving this! So if you're gonna tell me just how sick and wrong loving your sister is, I'm aware, thank you. Hey, it's fiction, okay? Otherwise, I love all comments!

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Know all about
About your reputation
And now it's bound to be a heartbreak situation
But I can't help it if I'm helpless
every time that I'm where you are

It was dark. The moon was hanging high on the deep ocean-bottom-blue sky, almost full and its colour like silver climbed into the room.

Mary sat on the chair, next to the window. She leaned to the wooden table; it was fine table, their mother always told them. Full oak, dear oak, and oh, how lucky Mary was, having it in her room. Yep, she really felt herself lucky.

What did she need the table for? She didn't usually even put her books on it; she preferred to hold them in her hands while reading. Tonight she did, just because her thoughts didn't actually follow the text properly. To be exact, she was now breaking one of her biggest rules; never, EVER, read onward if you don't understand everything said on the page. Now she didn't actually have the faintest idea about the few last chapters. She didn't actually care.

Her thin, pale fingers turner again one page without realizing, what it was all about.

Maybe that was her problem; she didn't know what it was all about. She, who always wanted to know. She was the smartest of them all five. At least that was what she told to herself. But, very, very, very deep inside her heart she kept asking herself, if she really was smartest one, then why … why this? Why had she let herself get into… this?

You walk in and my strength walks out the door
Say my name and I can't fight it anymore
Oh I know, I should go
But I need your touch just too damn much

Lydia was stupid. Everyone knew that she was; even mother, though she wasn't admitting it anytime soon. Mary supposed it was because she saw herself in Lydia – airheaded, not much to look at, man-eater – perfect mommy's girl.

Lydia might be stupid, but in the end she had gotten what she had wanted; officer who took her away from this small world of their childhood. Even though it was obvious to anyone who wasn't totally blind that Wickham didn't love Lydia, she could for a little while pretend that all her dreams had come true.

Mary hated pretending. She was realist. And still – she would've sold her soul and heart if she just somehow could pretend. Just couple of minutes. Just couple of minutes of happiness.

Like that'll ever happen.

So, Lydia was stupid. But she wasn't like Mary – she wasn't stuck in here, in this same house and same rooms, stuck with her never-to-come dreams, locked inside her own head.

Loving you

isn't really something I should do

Jane was perfect. Everyone thought so. She was beautiful, charming without even trying, helpful, sweet – the list was long. Every word Mary had ever red, describing 'pleasant', every single one of them, she had found in Jane. No wonder she had everything; the man of her dreams, who she had just engaged with, a rich man who her parents approved. Well, 'approved' was not exactly the right word, when it came to their mother. 'Running around and shouting out loud about their marriage' would be better. Their mother now was really close to fulfil her meaning of the life – get all her daughters in to a good marriage. Since her plan of getting Jane and Bignley together had been a success (after many backups), she had been doing nothing but telling Mary and Kitty (mostly Mary since she was more around) that soon some day fine men would come for them also.

If that upcoming day wasn't Mary's biggest fear in the world, she would've laughed to her mother's blindness. That silly woman just refused to see that no man with many virtues would ever lay his eyes on Mary. Mary knew this very well; always had. She was pale, she was skinny, she had tangy nose and empty, ash-coloured eyes and normal hair with no particular hue.

She was only a joke like standing next to the gorgeous Jane. Jane.

Jane was blind. Even blinder than their mother. She lived in her own sunny, forever-green world where everyone was only good or misunderstood.

Mary hated blindness. But sometimes she would've killed for being as blind as Jane. Blind enough to fool herself to believe that her dreams could actually happen. That it … could really be true.

Jane might be blind. But she was happy. Awake she was happier than Mary would ever be in the middle of her deepest and the most forbidden fantasies.

Shouldn't wanna spend my time with you, yeah

Downstairs there was a noise. They tried to be quiet – well, at least Elizabeth and their father tried – but they didn't know that Mary was still awake. And even less they knew that they were the reason why she couldn't get any sleep.

Elizabeth. She had gotten engaged. Just like that. This was the reason their mother was running around the house like a mad chicken with its head just cut off - (Mary didn't remember where she had red this description). And this was the reason why Mary was still awake two o'clock in the morning. Envy. Burning, rugged, boiling her viscera envy.

Not that she was jealous over Mr. Darcy. Oh dear God, no. This man was arrogant, haughty, and hearing Elizabeth, he was also the sweetest man in the whole wide world. Mary couldn't really care less if he was or not. If Elizabeth really loved him – and she knew she did, otherwise she wouldn't have married him – there was nothing to stop them for. Even though their mother was not so very fan of Darcy, she very much approved his assets, and Mary was, she really was happy for her sister.

And at the same time there was so much envy inside her that she just wanted to tear her lungs off and scream until she would pass out.

Again had one of her sisters reached her happiness, already three of them had gotten everything they ever wanted. And it wouldn't even be so bad if Mary could just curl up in some corned and ask when was gonna be her turn. It would be easy. But Mary knew all too well that her turn would never be. And it was the pain. Pain inside her poor heart, that would never, ever, ever, fade away.

Mary hated Elizabeth's self-confidence. Hated it, because she wanted it to herself. If she was as unbreakable as her big-sister, she could just go and say everything, let everything come out, not to care that they would all turn away from her, that her mother would go crazy (oh her nerves that she always reminded them about) and that everyone would think she was sick and revolting.

Well I should try to be strong
But baby you're the right kind of wrong

Maybe she was sick.

This thought had been in her head forever, pushing hardly, keeping her up in the dark hours of night.

Maybe there really was something wrong with her.

She had been reading, trying to find out every piece of information. She had been searching, and searching even more. She had red every book, hoping desperately that there was a tiny sing somewhere, saying that she wasn't mad. That she wasn't sick. That she was normal.

She knew much better than that. Mary knew all too well that she was as far from normal as possible.

The Bible said nothing about it. Well, daughters slept with their fathers. Sons slept with their mothers. But only to make children. There was no love. And even though Mary believed in the Bible, and had tried to think everything good way round, there was no escaping the feeling that they were questioning her feelings. It made her tremble in anger. 'Cause there was no purer thing in the world than her feelings.

Purer and dirtier at the same time.

Yeah baby you're the right kind of wrong

Actually Mary knew very well what it was all about.

It was very simple.

Lydia was married to Wickham.

Jane was in love and married to Bingley.

Elizabeth was in love and engaged to Mr. Darcy.

And she was –

There was a knock in the door. It happened so rarely in Mary's room, that she didn't first even realize what had happened.

When there was a knock again, more demanding now, she turned around.

Shocked, she whispered: "Come in please"

It Might be a mistake
A mistake I'm making

The pair of big, begging eyes peeked in.

"Can I come, Mary, please?" quiet voice and tiny cough after it.

She didn't wait for Mary's answer; she slipped in and closed the door behind her. Then Kitty stood still, like she didn't know where to sit. Not that there was much to choose from, Mary was already sitting on the only chair in the room, and beside that there was only her bed. And on it Kitty sat.

She was wearing her new, silky, expensive, laced pyjama. Jane had bought to her, now that she had Bingley's moneys and since she was too nice to forbid anything from her younger sisters, Kitty was in her seventh heaven. Her light, chocolate-brown hair was even curlier and messier than usual, her cheeks were bright pink and she held her ancient teddy bear tightly against her chest.

Mary felt her mouth dry.

"You're not asleep", Kitty finally said.

"I think you might be correct at that", Mary quietly answered. She had to be quiet; she couldn't let Kitty hear her voice trembling.

"Are you okay?" Kitty asked.

No, she was not okay at all. In fact, she was about just as much not okay as possible.

"Yes, I'm alright, thank you, dear Kitty", Mary said and hated herself. She just couldn't take her eyes off Kitty, and hoped that lightless room was enough to cover her.

"I couldn't sleep either", Kitty said. She said so obvious things sometimes. This was the part that Mary just couldn't understand; she hated obvious things. And Kitty was almost like Lydia. At least everyone thought so. Only difference between them was that Kitty was pretty. But she had always followed Lydia everywhere, done everything she'd done, and Kitty had been completely enchanted by Lydia, so much and so long, all those years in suffer for Mary. Every time Kitty had gone to the town with Lydia, leaving Mary home alone reading book or playing piano, it had broken her heart a little more. Not that Mary had ever asked Kitty to stay; like she'd ever be brave enough. Kitty would laugh. Giggle. Mary hated giggling. She absolutely couldn't stand so, so many things about Kitty.

And the most she hated how much she loved everything about her. Even those things she hated more than anything.

But what you're giving I am happy to be taking
Cause no one's ever made me feel
The way I feel when I'm in your arms

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Mary asked. Kitty stared at her in the darkness. Her big eyes slapped, they were shining, and her little chin was pressed against teddy bear's forehead.

Kitty was cute.

That was another thing; Mary hated the word cute. It was shallow, stupid, sugary.

And still it was the only word to describe Kitty's appearance. And there was no denying that she absolutely loved it.

"There's much going on downstairs", Kitty said. She sat on her knees, looking nervous, "Too much noise… I came here to see if you were awake"

She blushed.

Kitty had never come to see if Mary was awake. Lydia's room had been next to Mary's. So many nights had she heard them together in there, other side of the wall, giggling, babbling about the officers. Just as many times had Mary cried herself into the sleep. She wasn't a violent person, but oh how she wanted to cut the throat of all the officers. Not to mention Lydia. Lydia, who had dared to steal all Kitty's attention for so many years. Her Kitty's.

"Well… I am", Mary said. She pressed the corned of her chair so hard her knuckles turned white, "Was there anything else in your mind?"

She didn't want Kitty to leave. She wanted her to leave. She didn't want to be this confused. She wanted to tear off her hair and cry. She didn't want Kitty to leave.

"Not really…" Kitty mumbled, staring at the floor. Her voice was very unsure, which wasn't usual at all, "Just feeling a bit lonely…"

"Lonely?" Mary repeated. She almost laughed. Really, she almost laughed. That word had been around her since the time that seemed like forever. All around her, she, Mary, she was the word lonely, and now it had been said by the person who had unconsciously kept her company in her dreams for years. Kitty knew nothing about being lonely. Mary wanted to tell her that, with every piece of bitterness in her voice, as well as that she was the main reason for Mary's loneliness. No, she didn't really. She knew too well that she never would.

Kitty was here now. The passed years had vanished.

They say you're something I should do without
They don't know what goes on
When the lights go out
There's no way to explain
All the pleasure is worth all the pain

She waved her hands very fast.

"Well, you know", she patted the floor with her feet; she didn't have any socks on. Mary stared straight at Kitty's white, little toes, feeling the heat growing inside her chest. She was just too sick of pretending, "Since Lydia has been gone and all… Well, you know we used to hang together quite a lot…"

"Yes". Mary knew. Oh how well she knew. Kitty had left her alone, her, Mary, her older sister – who had been helplessly in love with her since the day Kitty had turned eight. Kitty had been so small and full of joy and innocence and Mary had had to watch six-year-old Lydia rush in and kiss Kitty's pink, soft cheek in front of her eyes. The pain had started then; Mary still waited it to go away.

"Lydia's married", Kitty sounded sad. Finally, after all this time Kitty sounded sad. Finally she was sharing some of Mary's pain, finally she knew what it was like to lose someone she loved and adored, who she had given everything to – and got nothing back.

Now Kitty had at least the tiniest hue of premonition how Mary felt.

Maybe Mary should have felt happy. She couldn't even smile. She felt that her cheeks had died the moment she sad Kitty's eyes glitter.

"Lydia's married and so are Jane and Lizzie", Kitty sounded sad and angry, "They left us here and leave, all of them"

"To me it's all the same. Everyone's left me anyway", Mary's voice was dry and quiet.

"What did you say, Mary?" Kitty asked, her head twitched.

Mary felt sick. She felt dizzy. She watched Kitty and was so, so afraid. And yet she felt safer than ever in her life. She felt safe to be afraid near Kitty.

"You shouldn't be up with bear feet. You may get cold", she said.

Kitty smiled. It was an impish smile.

It made Mary's heart stop.

"Well then, I guess I should stay right here, eh?" Kitty jumped and moved her legs into Mary's bed. She fell on her back, her legs and arms were full of reddish smudged because of the coolness.

Kitty laughed. She didn't giggle. Mary had never heard Kitty laugh properly. She heard it, and saw the Milky Way in her eyes.

But she was so afraid. "I'm not quite sure if that's a feasible idea, my dear Kitty. There's only one bed and…"

"Please, Mary? Me and Lydia, we slept in each others beds all the time"

Mary calmed herself down by imagining how she would stand up and take one of her father's duck hunting guns and visit Lydia…

Then she thought. She was a rational person, after all. Kitty was here now. So she had slept in Lydia's bed before. Now she wanted to sleep in hers. So why was Mary chasing her away?

Because she was so scared. So scared of the day that it would really be Kitty's turn. Some man would come, kneel down in front of Kitty, do all those things that only, and just only Mary had right to do…

She didn't want to stick in to Kitty too much, since someday she would have to let go. But then again, she was in too deep already.

"Please, Mary?" Kitty whispered, "I don't want to be alone…"

And finally Mary wanted to forget. For a minute she wanted to forget that it was impossible, forbidden, she didn't want to understand or remember that it was all because she was just the only one left, only one to go to. She closed her eyes from the fact that she was just Kitty's second choice, she was blind and stupid and a pretender – and rose from her chair.

I should try to run
But I just can't seem to
Cause every time I run you're the one I run to
Can't do without, what you do to me
I don't care if I'm in too deep yeah

"You're warm", Kitty whispered.

Mary lay there, on her back, and breathed as deep as possible. Kitty smelled like cinnamon and her curly hair was spreading all over Mary's face. She tasted it between her thin lips, Kitty's soft hair. Kitty pressed her nose in Mary's neck, Kitty's nose was small and cold and Mary didn't think anything had ever felt so good before.

"And you're cold", Mary said, "You really should wear more clothes when it gets this chilly…"

"I don't need to. You make me warm", Kitty answered quietly.

Mary stared at her. Kitty didn't look at her, but the younger girl smiled. Kitty's small, cold hands were wandering around Mary's slim pelvis; they were curled up together under the same blanket.

"You really need to come to the town with me and Jane next time. We can buy you a new pyjama as well"

"Kitty…" Mary breathed. But then she didn't know how to finish. She didn't care.

Well I should try to be strong

She just nodded. She wanted this to go on forever.

She couldn't help it. She was in love with Kitty.

There was absolutely nothing in the world that could ever change it.

Baby you're the right kind of wrong

And when Kitty breathed out with her lips pressed against Mary's skin, when she felt the hot air and Kitty's small chest rising on her side, she realized that she didn't even want to.

If Mary was given a change to make her feeling for Kitty vanish, she wouldn't. She was all too happy right here.

She was happy.

Suddenly it felt like Kitty had pressed a small, quick kiss on her neck. When she turned her head to face the younger sister, this just gave her the innocent smirk, raising her eyebrows interrogatively.

"What?" Kitty's voice was soft.

"Nothing", Mary mumbled.

"Silly", Kitty gave a laugh and hugged her tighter.

Baby you're the right kind of wrong

"I'm glad you're here", Kitty whispered sleepy.

Mary saw all the stars and the planets in the roof. She couldn't care less about tomorrow.