NOTES: Longer chapter; Lizzy's POV first, then switches. Not a lighthearted chapter, but not as bad as it'll get (ARE YOU EXCITED? I'M EXCITED!). Anyway, don't worry too much, don't forget to hydrate, and have a great day, despite the angst! 🌺 ~Vinny

Lizzy's closet door wasn't very comfortable. She didn't know why she was leaning against it, her full body weight on her forehead as she pressed her face into the thin wood. Her phone was saying something into the palm of her hand. Or, rather, her sister Jane was saying something through the phone.

She sighed, and pulled herself into a semi-smile; just enough to resonate through her voice and into the phone. "Sorry, Jane. I just.. had to take a second."

"I understand," her angel of a sister said, "I'm a bit shaken up too."

"Just…," she smashed the heel of her hand further into her socket. "Just, play it again, would you?"

"Of course. But, ah, it's on my laptop, so the audio's not very—"

"Jane, I've heard it twice already. I know the audio's bad. I just… need to hear it again."

Her sweet sister didn't say anything this time. Lizzy could hear her soft exhale, born of fretful exhaustion and overworked niceties. A key pressed play. Their mother's voice crackled to life.

"Hiiii, Janey! How is that wonderful ma— of you— Anyway… Sorry to— —all you out of th— ue like this, but your father had— reaction to the chemoth— It's all fine. We're fine. Don't wor— Fly back home. Don't worry. Oh, and tell your sister that her fa— We'll need someone with a head for numbers soon, an— Are you on our insurance? I wasn't sure. Anyway, it's just a minor opera— only a slight chance of— but there's a silver lining! The company was— — — —And we just miss you a lot— DAMN PHONE! Ugh. Anyway— love you, Ja—"

Click.

"Fuck," Lizzy groaned.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Okay, Jane, are you okay? I know something's wrong when you don't correct my language."

A chuckle hidden in a sigh. "Sorry. I'm just a bit worried. The message… isn't very clear."

"Tell me about it."

"But my guess would be something happened with dad, important enough so that she had to call us."

"Call YOU, you mean," Lizzy corrected.

She could hear the sound of her big sister's lips pressing together in disapproval. "She loves you too, ya know. You just… Your personalities don't mix well. That's the only reason she didn't call you."

"Not to mention you're the favorite, I'm the least so," Lizzy said mildly, smiling.

"Well.. I…"

"Listen," she said, saving her too-nice sister from having to tell her the hard truth, "I'll check in on them. Fitzwilliam has this work celebration thing tonight, and he needs me there, but other than that- I'm free. I'll be at the house before the sun rises."

Jane gave out a dryish laugh. "Mom won't like that one bit."

"I'm already her least favorite," Lizzy shrugged, "What's she gonna do?"

When she answered, a smile had crept back into her voice. "Just call me when you get there. And please find better reception than mom."

"Righty-o!" Lizzy chirped. "Love ya."

She hung up the phone. She sighed. Her phone dropped to the floor, but this time, instead of mashing her forehead into the closet, Lizzy just flopped back onto her too-small bed. She covered her face with her hands.

Fuck. She felt like shit. Not physically, that is, but somehow she was just.. just tired. Bone tired. Maybe it was the unwanted reminder that, yes, she did have a mother, and, no, she was not really welcome much at home.

Well, she wasn't kicked out or anything, her mother just found fault with anything and everything Lizzy did.

That was always fun.

And now, after the gala, she would have to come home and pack like the devil so that she could make the two hour drive in good time, to make sure her father was okay. She really loved her father.

On the floor, her phone buzzed. She ignored it. Then it buzzed again, insistently.

Feeling gross and exhausted, Lizzy leaned down and picked up her phone.

It was a text from Fitzwilliam.'I'm parked outside. Are you ready to go?'

Lizzy looked at the clock with the cool gaze of a death row inmate. Her clock was on time. She, however, was late. And sTILL IN HER PAJAMAS SHITSHITSHIT.

She flew out of bed, tripping over her feet, and throwing open the closet. She tore through the racks of clothes, looking for something, anything fancy enough for the gala.

...she came up empty.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE GOING TO WEAR?!

In his car, Darcy pulled at his bow tie. It was choking him a bit. After checking his reflection in the driver-side mirror to make sure it was still straight, he glanced first at his phone, then up at the apartment door. It had been 10 minutes, and he had still gotten no reply to his text.

Finally, after a few more seconds of tense silence, Lizzy emerged from the door and walked to his car. His breath caught in his throat, or perhaps just on his bow tie.

Lizzy's dress was pink fading to pale blue, with pearls sewn into the blossoming skirt that winked in the sunset. She looked like a light, pastel dream. Her hair was done up in the back, curls dripping down like curling teardrops around the base of her neck. White flowers were tucked into her cinnamon hair, accenting every color of her lovely dress.

"Hi," she said, shyly.

"You look…," Darcy swallowed. How on earth do you compliment a woman who you love, who you adore, who you want to spend the rest of your life with and who makes your life better in every conceivable way… without seeming over the top?

"..nice," he finished, lamely.

Her skirt wilted a little. Her hand reached up to self-consciously tuck a loose flower back behind her ear.

Darcy couldn't look in her eyes. He wouldn't want to go to the party if he looked in her eyes; he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking her into a dip and stealing away to some romantic paradise where they would be alone, together.

He coughed to the side, into his hand. "Well. You ready then?"

"Yes," Lizzy said. She got into the car, head turned to the asphalt.

Darcy wouldn't have been able to look in her eyes if he wanted to.

And he did want to. But he didn't do it.

He opened the door and climbed back into the sleek car, trying not to wrinkle his tuxedo as he did. He started the car. Lizzy started a conversation.

"So, my dad might be dying."

It took all of Darcy's instincts not to slam on the breaks and send his girlfriend hurtling into the dashboard. Instead, he settled for stopping the car and whipping his head around to face her.

"WHAT?!"

Lizzy was looking toward the window. Her chin was propped up on her hand, her reflection wavering softly in the car window.

"It's okay. He's kind of been dying for a while now."

As she finally glanced his way, and saw his shocked face, Lizzy breathed out, and explained.

"My dad got diagnosed with liver cancer last winter. We don't know how much time he's got left— it was pretty minor to begin with— but… He was an alcoholic for.. as long as I can remember. Not a violent one! He— He would usually just… fall asleep. Not want to do stuff. It got worse as he got older. He's in his mid sixties now, and after a few scans, the doctors advised he take some time off of work. Dad… took that as a sign to quit. That's why I took the job at Longbourne— to help out. I have a talent for coffee, and.. th-they need money back home to.. pay for treatment."

"Oh.. my god." Darcy didn't really know what else to say. He put a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't know."

"It's fine," she shrugged him off. "I don't give them everything. I just.. help out, ya know? Anyway, my mom… who… is NOT the best… left my sister (my mom doesn't really talk to me) this super vague voicemail that had.. something to do with my dad. So.. uh, tomorrow, I'm gonna drive over and check on them. Just make sure he's okay."

"Wow.., okay." Darcy turned on the car again, but just sat there for a moment, stewing in his thoughts. He turned in his seat to look at her. Lizzy's green eyes were tightened around the edges. "Tomorrow… Do you want me to go with you?"

"Huh? Uh, no, no," Lizzy shook her head and screwed up her face. "I.. I think I need to go alone."

"Alright."

He adjusted his grip on the wheel, and pulled out. He turned onto the street, and tried to put himself into the right headspace to drive to the gala without conscious thought— so he could better listen to Lizzy.

Unfortunately, she didn't seem to be inclined to speak again. Darcy could understand why. He had gone through similar things, when his father and mother died.

"Hey…" he cleared his throat. "Do you want me to help out too? With… money, I mean?"

Lizzy pursed her lips. "If… it gets worse. For now though, it's covered by our insurance, and he's already on a waiting list for a transplant. We've.. had to come to terms, with the fact he probably won't live too many more years, but it's not like he's on his deathbed. But still.. I just…"

She put a hand to her forehead. "Sorry. I got off-track. No, I don't want your help right now. But thank you."

Darcy nodded. He turned left. There was a stray cat on the sidewalk, its fur lit up like campfire sparks by the sunset. Two right turns. Another green light, stopping at red before they reach the intersection.

Another two turns and a half mile before Lizzy reached over, and took his hand.

"Hey."

Darcy looked over at her. She smiled.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Your eyes," he said, then blinked. "I mean, uh, green."

Lizzy turned her head towards the window to laugh, but kept hold of his hand. "That's cute," she replied, after she finished laughing. "I dunno what mine is. I kinda like a lot of 'em."

Had he looked her way in that moment, Darcy would have seen her smile curl up at the edges, even as her eyes dipped towards a half-concealed sadness. Then it was gone, and her face displayed nothing but loveliness and amusement.

"Well..," Lizzy hummed, trying to take on a teasing tone, "I rather like black right now."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yess," she purred, "It looks great on a tux, and even better on you."

Darcy chuckled, and when they were at a stoplight, he stopped to kiss her quickly. They continued talking like this, bantering, but not at their normal level, until they pulled up in front of the hall where the gala was being held. As he parked, Darcy noticed with pleasurable surprise that his nerves had settled.

As they walked up in silence, he regained Lizzy's hand, squeezing in assurance.

He didn't notice that it was shaking, or that she wasn't holding onto him as tight as she used to.

Darcy only noticed that her heartbeat matched his.