NOTES: Switches POV partway through. Bet the titles scaring ya, huh ;) Well, I can't think of another one lol. This is a strange chapter— the next is going to be them in the hospital. I'll post again soon. Hurt/comfort ahead— BUT NOT SUPER MAJOR DON'T Y'ALL FREAK OUT ON ME

Just keep reading, drink some water, and have a great day ❤️ ~Vinny

"Are you sure I shouldn't just call her?"

"Nah, NAH man! It's so much more romantic this way!" Plus, Williams thought to himself, there's less chance of foot-in-mouth disease when you're in person.

Darcy, on the other hand, wasn't thinking much at all. Rather, he was worrying with his collar, and worrying more with his mind.

What if she didn't love him anymore? What if she had moved on— and it had all been a miscommunication? What if she laughed in his face, and broke his heart all over again? Or worse— what if his being there hurt HER? What if she wasn't ready to see him again? What if she couldn't see he had changed? What if—

His cousin smacked him lightly on the back of the head. Darcy blinked, rubbing his curls and glaring at Williams. "What was that for?"

"You worry too much bro," he dismissed. "Your forehead's gonna be a prune-fest in not-too-many years."

"Very well put," Darcy rolled his eyes, "No wonder you minored in English."

Williams laughed, then said, "Oh, and we're here, by the way."

Darcy looked up at the square office building, shielding his eyes from the glare of the mid-morning sun reflecting off the uncleaned windows. "This?" He asked, "But… isn't this where Samantha works?"

"Mhm," Williams replied, opening the door. "Lizzy's our new secretary."

His cousin stopped in his tracks. His mouth didn't fall open, but rather stuck in a thin line, his jaw all but wired shut. For some reason, it made him furious: the knowledge that Lizzy's new job was working for his family, working under his friends like some… like some common.. worker…

He was doing it again.

With effort, Darcy quashed down the outrage that sprung up in his chest; doing manual labor did make Lizzy any less than him. There was no shame in good, honest work— actually there was more honor in it. He should respect her destinos with her career.

It didn't matter in the least to him where she worked as long as she was happy.

Darcy breathed out slow, and walked into the office building.

The first sight he was met with, as soon as he stepped inside, was Lizzy Bennet being swept up into an embrace by a young man, her face pressing up to kiss his cheek, and her short frame disappearing behind his arms.

Williams sucked in a breath inside him. His face was red. Darcy's own felt like it was drained of all color.

He had been right to worry.

At the sound of the door slamming behind them, the man turned around. Lizzy did too. Their eyes locked. Hers were red. She had been.. crying…

Then, before he could react, Lizzy Bennet was flying across the room, and throwing herself into his arms.

"Don't freak out," was the first news Lizzy heard from the hospital that morning.

She was chewing on her lip, fidgeting with the side of her ear as the phone pressed against it. "Just please tell me how it went, Lydia," Lizzy said.

The surgery was supposed to be over by now. But the phone hadn't rung until Lizzy had taken initiative, and called her little sister. Who, at the moment, was proving herself SUPREMELY unhelpful.

"He's… well, I think he's fine. The doctor looks all worried though— he's rushing in and out of the room with the insurance on the phone. The surgery… something went… wrong, I think. They keep using the word… like, uh, Cirrhosis. Yeah. Yeah, that's it. Apparently Dad's liver was.. worse than we thought. Dad's… actually, I don't think he's doing fine. He's heavily doped up right now. I… wait, Mom—"

The phone cut out for a minute. "Please, just TELL ME, MOM," Lydia's voice cried. Then there was another pause. "Oh. Oh my God."

Lizzy's hand went to her mouth. "Lydia? Lydia, what's going on?"

"I- I have to go, I'm sorry," she said in a rush, "I have to calm mom down. You— It's fine. Don't freak out. B-b-but you need to— to come, uh, here. Now. Doctor's saying— I— oh God—"

Click.

Lizzy felt like screaming.

Jesus Christ, they NEEDED a better cell phone plan.

Her fingernails were digging into her palms. Her arms were shaking. Her head was stuffed with white noise and fear. She felt like she was flatlining.

"Hey. You okay?"

As Lizzy looked up into Joey Phillips' stubbly, worried face, her eyes filled with tears. "I-," she choked on her words, trying to get up. "I need to g-get to the hos-hospital.."

"Woah, hey!"

Joey caught her as she stumbled over her desk. He held her tightly, and just then Lizzy realized just how lonely she was. How long had it been since she hugged someone, non-romantically, just person-to-person? How long had it been since she felt seen... and loved?

Truthfully, she still didn't feel that way. And all that came to mind were warm brown eyes, and mint leaves.

Lizzy stood up onto her tiptoes, and kissed little Joey on the cheek. She was so grateful to have a friend with her. She didn't know what was real anymore.

The best man she had ever known had broken her heart, her oldest friend had lied to her, and her father— the strongest, most lively person she had ever known— was about to die.

She held onto Joey a little tighter, concealing a sob in the folds of his shirt.

A noise sounded in front of her. She looked up.

Then he was there.

And nothing really mattered anymore.

None of the words, none of the lies, none of the thoughts that had buzzed around her head like gnats stinging her over and over again. Fitzwilliam was here.

Lizzy didn't really know how she found herself in his arms, breathing in the smell of him. He was warm, and he stumbled back as he caught her. A hand found its way into her hair, lips marking the crown of her head; not kissing her, but just resting, soft pressure as if Fitzwilliam had to remind himself this wasn't a dream.

Lizzy wanted to say something. She really did. She wanted to say how she was sorry, how she was an idiot, how she missed him more than she had ever imagined and seeing him right now was everything she could ever want— but instead, she just choked out,

"Dad. Hospital. I- I- I need you— to— th— my— He's.. hospital—" She was embarrassed that she couldn't stop the sob building inside her. Dear god her father was going to die. And she was alone, all alone, all alone—

"Which one."

"Wh-what?"

"Which hospital?" Fitzwilliam pulled away, and looked into her eyes. His were brown curtains drawn across a wooden stage, shielding his thoughts from her view. "Actually, never mind. Here. You put it into the GPS. I'll drive."

Lizzy hiccuped. "B-b-but wh-what about…"

He looked at her. A tear slid down Lizzy's cheek. It mingled with her freckles, and her now spotty blush. She knew she looked like a swollen, sleep-deprived mess of a woman.

And Fitzwilliam looked at her like she was nothing less than the most beautiful thing on the planet.

He put a hand to her cheek, cupping it.

"Th-thank you," Lizzy croaked out. She leaned into his touch. It hit her that the loneliness was shrinking away, shriveling into a husk between her lungs.

Fitzwilliam almost smiled. "Come on. We have to go."

Then his hand was holding her fingers in a crushing embrace, and he was pulling her out the door. Immediately, they were swept up into the pandemonium of the moment, and soon everything became.. a little blurry.

But three words in Lizzy's heart were clearer than crystal.

'I need you.'