"…you have disappointed every expectation I had formed, and proved yourself of a character the very reverse of what I had supposed. For I had, Fanny, as I think my behaviour must have shown formed a very favourable opinion of you from the period of my return to England. I had thought you peculiarly free from wilfulness of temper, self-conceit, and every tendency to that independence of spirit which prevails so much in the modern days, even in young women, and which in young women is offensive and disgusting beyond all common offence. But you have shown me that you can be wilful and perverse, that you can and will decide for yourself, without any consideration or deference for those who have surely some right to guide you – without even asking their advice…..You do not owe me the duty of a child. But, Fanny, if your heart can acquit you of ingratitude-"

He ceased. Fanny was by this time crying so bitterly, that angry as he was, he would not press that article farther. Her heart was almost broke by such a picture of what she appeared to him; by such accusations, so heavy, so multiplied, so rising in dreadful gradation! Self-willed, obstinate, selfish, and ungrateful. He thought her all this. She had deceived his expectations; she had lost his good opinion. What was to become of her? - Mansfield Park by Jane Austen.

George was close to breaking the speed limit.

He would never, in a million years when thinking rationally, break the speed limit. In fact Emma, when she was (in what she believed to be) in a stressful situation would whine how slow he drove and how he needed to drive faster or someone would die. And yet here he was on the verge of breaking the speed limit because of one phone call.

One very tearful phone call.

He halted the car to a shuddery stop and leaped out without thinking of turning the car off. He was too horrified with the sight before him….because right before him was several police cars, police officers roaming round the place, paramedics not far behind them, and Emma was standing before one of the police officers wrapped in a bright orange shock blanket.

"EMMA!"

A young officer wouldn't let him through but fortunately Emma, and by the sound of many clattering high heels, and the other girls ran to him. Emma reached him first, she slipped under the tape and threw her arms round him, and then sobbed hysterically into his shoulder. Just behind the tape was an incredibly tearful Cathy, who clung to a very pale Ellen, besides a trembling Anne who was tightly holding onto a pale but furious Lizzie.

"It's all my fault!" Emma wailed into his shoulder, which was now soaked to the bone with her tears, "if I have never tried to match make Fanny-" she choked on the rest of her sentence as she heaved another distressing sob.

George merely held her closer to him as he turned his worried eyes to the other girls. "Is Fanny-?"

"She's fine," Ellen reassured him quietly, "just as shaken up as the rest of us."

"What happened?" He asked as he tightened his grip on Emma's shaking form. Perhaps if he held tightly enough she would be safe from whatever hurt her…?

"Elton stabbed Tom," Lizzie spat out furiously.

"What?"

"He…err snapped and said some very rude things about Fanny to Emma," Ellen explained hesitatingly, "Tom rushed in to defend her…and…well Elton stabbed him."

"What?!"

It was rather mind-boggling. Elton, Mr Pompous, the clean-cut, good student, coward Phillips had stabbed someone? It didn't make a single jot of sense to George but then none of this did; he can't comprehend why Emma was weeping on his shoulder declaring it was her fault, either.

"I know," Ellen agreed tiredly, "I can barely believe it myself."

"What's happening now?"

"Fanny has gone to the hospital with Tom," Ellen said, "and we've all given our statements into the police. We're just waiting for them to give us permission to go."

"I'll take you home," he promised. It would be a tight squeeze but he knew none of the girls would mind squishing themselves against one another.

It had to be a girl thing he could never bring himself to snuggle up close to his mates.

"No!" Emma pushed him away and looked up pleadingly, she never looked more pathetic with her mascara running down her cheeks mingled with tears. "We have to go to the hospital! Fanny is going to be sitting there alone, utterly terrified, with no clue with what's happening to Tom, we should be there for her!"

The other girls nodded in agreement and George sighed knowing he was definitely going to lose this argument. "All right," he agreed, "we'll go to the hospital." He turned to the young police officer questioningly. "Can they leave now?"

The young officer shrugged, "Don't see why not," he mumble, "we caught the perp and have their statements."

"Elton didn't run?" George asked bewildered.

Lizzie laughed bitterly, "Oh he tried," she said nastily, "but Frank caught him."

George felt like he had just been punched in the stomach for the zillionth time. "Frank?"

Emma nodded, and looked back at the crime scene almost adoringly, "he was so heroic," she murmured, "the only one that wasn't fazed by it all, he just ran after Elton and tackled him to the ground, and then disarmed him."

How very stupid of Frank Churchill, and no that wasn't just the jealousy talking, that moronic reckless boy could have easily gotten Elton accidentally stabbed by tackling him like that. Instead he pulled himself together, and wrapped a comforting arm round Emma's shoulders, before guiding her gently back to the car. Once everyone was settled (and thoroughly squished in the back), he reached over and wiped the black muck of Emma's cheeks.

"Hey," he said reassuringly, "everything is going to be all right."

He didn't know that for fact but he did know it had to be true. It just had to be. Because if Tom died tonight then Emma would never forgive herself.

JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA

Please God, I know I ask far too much from you, Fanny prayed silently to herself, her hands clasped tightly and her eyes clamped shut as she tried to block out the hospital noises surrounding her, but I am begging you, spare Tom. Don't take him into your embrace just yet, he is too young, he has far too much to look forwards to, just please…

This was her fault. If she hadn't been so weak, so defenceless, and so pathetically weak in the eyes of Elton Phillips, then Tom wouldn't have felt the need to defend her, and he wouldn't be lying there on the operation table now –

Oh God! Forgive me for using your name in vain but I am begging you, please, please, please save him, she prayed fervently, he is my brother, my family, the only one that has loved me since I can remember, you have already taken me from my mother, please don't take my brother away, please, please, please-

"Fanny!"

Her eyes shot open and she was startled to see Emma leading the girls and George her way. She hadn't expected them to follow her at all, and she definitely didn't expect George to crawl out of bed on her behalf. Emma hurtled down towards her and before Fanny could do more than stand up she had thrown her arms round Fanny and dragged her into a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, I should have never tried to set you up, oh Fanny, I'm sorry, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry," Emma babbled into her ear, "if there is anything I can do, I will, I'll shoot myself if that's what you want."

Fanny couldn't help but laugh shakily at that. "Why on earth would I ask you to do that?" she wrapped her own arms round Emma, after wrestling them free from Emma's vice like grip, "You have nothing to be sorry for," she reassured her friend, "it isn't your fault. If anything it's mine."

"Where on earth did you get a stupid idea like that?" Emma demanded fiercely.

Fanny just smiled sadly and turned her attention to her other friends, who all hugged her tightly, even George, and murmured something that resembled a greeting to them all.

"How is Tom?" Ellen asked.

"They said he is stable," Fanny mumbled as she looked down to the floor, she didn't want any of them, Emma especially, to see her tears, "but he had lost so much blood and they need to operate, to check nothing had been puncture and then sew him up." She shuddered at the thought and felt Emma squeeze her shoulders reassuringly.

"Have you called your family?" George asked.

Fanny merely nodded. Her godfather had been severely displeased that she had woken him and her godmother up, but that displeasure immediately turned into concern and he promised to come as soon as he can. However, knowing the frailty of her godmother, the irritancy of Aunt Norris, and the sleepy reluctance of the rest of the household, it might take a while for her god-family to arrive. Lord, what if Tom died before they got here? She shivered at thought and leaned into Emma. "They should be here soon," she managed to whisper.

"Well," Lizzie said a little too loudly, "until they come, we'll wait with you."

She smiled gratefully and it deepened when George offered to get them all a cup of tea. It took about another two, very sugary, cup of teas until the doctor finally came out, worn and exhausted as she felt.

"Miss Price?" He called out.

"Yes," she breathed as she jumped to her feet, "how is Tom? Is he all right?"

The doctor smiled wearily at her. "Tom will be just fine," he reassured her, "nothing was punctured and he'll make a swift recovery. He just needs a few weeks rest."

"Oh thank God!"

She almost slumped on the floor right there and now. Her legs were so desperate to give out in relief and tiredness but instead she held on, because it wasn't over just yet, and asked, "Can I see him?"

"As soon as he's in his room," the doctor promised her.

Then after some pleasantries he left her to collapse in her chair and cry a little out of joy and relief. Thank you, God, thank you so much, she thought as she touched her crucifix lightly, now for a save and swift recovery…

Happily she prayed alongside her own friends.

JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA

The girls sans Fanny came home exhausted.

It was close to seven in the morning and thankfully it was a Saturday because none of them could bear the idea of going to a class after a night they just had. To their surprise though the kitchen light was on, Ellen wearily pushed the door open only to be attacked by a worried Marianne ("And you call me reckless!" the younger sister scolded), and Anne found herself delighted by the sight of Fred leaning against the kitchen counter drinking a cup of tea.

"Hi," she said quietly once she reached him.

He assessed her quietly, his eyes dragged themselves slowly up and down as he searched for any sign of injury, when he was satisfied that she was unharmed he merely asked quietly, "How are you?"

"Tired," was her equally quiet reply.

He placed his cup down on the side with a near silent thump and used his one arm to drag her to him. His hand entwined itself in her curls and just before she closed her eyes in bliss she saw George push a sleepy Emma up the stairs. With a sigh she almost fell asleep right there and then, her head pillowed by Fred's lovely chest.

Instead he gently guided her into the living room and when she woke up five hours later she was curled up on the sofa with her head in his lap.

Dear God, she loved him.

JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA

Her godparents came in at eight o'clock in the morning. By then the early spring sun was hope and there was still a faint frost covering the grass and the cars outside. Her godfather looked stern as ever but she could almost make out the worry in his eyes, and her godmother was already weeping.

"Oh Tommy, oh my boy," she wailed before she flung her arms round Fanny, "thank God, you are safe though."

Fanny rubbed her godmother's back soothingly as she always had. When she had first started to live with the Bertrams Julia had pushed Mariah out of the tree house, breaking her leg, and their mother spent the entire time in such hysterics that the doctors had to sedate her. Fanny, nervous and incredibly terrified at the time seeing as her last hospital visit had been when her own mother died, sat with her, patting her arm, and eventually reading to her. Since then Fanny was usually the one that dealt with her godmother during situations like this.

"What happened?" her godfather asked coldly.

"I…" she had no idea how to explain this at all. "It was my fault!" she blurted out. At this her godmother tore herself away from as she looked at Fanny in sheer horror, her godfather, however, merely raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"There was this boy-"

"I see."

"You do?" she asked faintly.

It wasn't that she didn't respect her godfather as an intelligent man, after all he had founded his own business and had been an exceptionally good tutor to all of them when it was exam season, but whenever it had come to a scenario involving one of his children he seemed near blind.

"Yes," he said curtly, "You had been a whore."

She spluttered at that, her cheeks suddenly stained red, as she flushed at the suggestion. A whore? She had not even properly kissed a boy! Her only experience had only ever been the shy, hesitant, and very sweet kiss Edmund had given her under the mistletoe when she had been fifteen! Oh and the many kisses on her cheek planted by Tom, or Emma, or one of the other girls when they were being exceptionally affectionate but nothing to suggest that she was…was…well a whore. She had never…she would never be…

"What?" she managed to croak.

"You heard me," her godfather said coldly, "you had acted like a whore. You played with Tom's affections, and then flirted – perhaps more – with another boy. He attacked, and of course in this disgusting city, the boy was some sort of gang member, and therefore defended himself with a knife. Yes I can see very clearly how this was your fault."

Her stomach bubbled with an emotion she hadn't felt…well she wasn't sure if she had ever felt it before…"I did not act like a whore!" she snapped. Her godfather's eyes almost popped out and she couldn't blame him, she never thought that she would act like this either.

"Not a whore?" he shouted. "Have you seen the way you've dressed?"

Fanny felt the urge to cover her chest. She wasn't wearing anything incredibly revealing in comparison to most girls but she was dressed in a short summer dress more appropriate for summer and not a cold March day. "I am decently dressed in comparison to others!" she yelped defensively. "The boy insulted me! He yelled some rude stuff and Tom just dived in on my behalf! I didn't even know he was at the club!"

"Club? As in night club, you have been drinking away the money I give you?!"

"I don't even drink!"

"How am I to believe that? Before all of this I had thought of you as a sweet, innocent, and good girl but instead you have proven yourself to be some sort of party animal with whorish tendencies. I have never been so disappointed in my life. And to make things worse you get my son almost killed. I cannot believe this…Norris was right, you are an ungrateful child."

That stung. With everything she had done to prove that she was grateful for him and his wife taking her in, the constant obedience to the point that she allowed her godfather to pick out her own education and career path – not that she didn't mind being a teacher, she loved it, but still! – and her care and devotion to a hysterical godmother that didn't realise she was there half the time, the bullying she endured, the abuse….and he thought her ungrateful for one mistake?

"I am not ungrateful!" she shrieked, tears ran down her cheeks, "What have I ever done that would suggest otherwise?"

"You are obviously a selfish child-"

"Since when?" she interrupted, the feeling in the pit of her stomach finally unleashed, she now understood it as fury. "When I allowed your daughters to bully me? When I allowed you to pick out every aspect of my future? When I never made a complaint about the broken radiator in my room? I have done everything you have asked and more! I took care of your wife when you can't be bothered, I did my best to keep Tom on track of his own education, I allowed Aunt Norris to push me around just to give you some peace in your life, and you call me selfish, you call me ungrateful, I have done nothing but try, and try, and try to be the child you wanted!"

He slapped her. "Shut your mouth, you lying, ungrateful, brat!"

"Thomas!" Her godmother shrieked as she clutched her handbag to her chest.

"Get…out…"

They all froze at that and slowly turned to see Tom trying to sit up in his bed. He was far too pale, still recovering from the blood loss, and he looked exhausted, but his eyes glimmered with the fury that Fanny felt herself.

"You heard the boy," her godfather said all composed, as if he had never struck Fanny. "Get out of his room, and our lives, if you think I'm going to let you come home you have another thing coming young lady! Don't even think of asking for a single penny from me, you're no longer my obligation, and forget the job, they won't want someone as selfish as you."

"Fine by me!" Fanny snapped. "I wasn't going to take that job anyway! I've been hired by another school!"

Yes, after a long mental debate with herself, she had decided it was best for her physical health and mental wellbeing if she stayed in London after graduation. To be honest the decision had been made long before this when she was in the car after her write had been broken a couple months ago.

"What?" her godfather looked at her completely stunned, he had obviously never expected that from her. "Well then," he said, as he struggled to regain his composure, "You'll have no trouble paying me back for the loan I have given you."

"I'm sure we can arrange a monthly payment," Fanny agreed, "I'll go now…." She took a deep breath. "Get well soon, Tom, and give my love to Edmund….tell him goodbye for me, please?"

"I didn't tell you to leave," Tom said defiantly, his voice was a lot stronger now before it had been nothing more than a rasp. "I was telling my so-called parents to get the hell out of my room."

"Tom-"

"You hit her!" Tom shouted, well tried to, it came out a bit strangled. "You hit Fanny!"

"She almost got you killed!"

"She did nothing, it was my choice!"

"Because she's a whore!"

"Get the fuck out of my room or I will get out of this bed and shove you out myself!"

Torn between wanting to stay for his son, is own anger, and his wife's sobbing, Fanny grimaced as her godfather decided to grab his wife and leave the room without a second glance at her, or even another word to his own son. "Oh Tom," she whispered, "I really wish you hadn't said that."

"He deserved it," Tom said firmly, "he had no right to treat you like that. What were you doing here anyway? You look like that you haven't slept a wink at all."

"I wanted to know if you'll be all right," Fanny blushed.

"Daft girl," Tom closed his eyes and laid back on his pillow, "but the best girl alive, what would I do without my Number One Fan, huh?"

She smiled faintly at that and sat herself beside him, gently she took his hand and pressed her lips lovingly against it, he in return squeezed her hand comfortingly.

She prayed again, only this time for the strength for her and Tom to stand on their own two feet.