NOTES: Darcy's POV— mostly exposition, with some lovely bits of fluff 3 If we're lucky, I might be able to post again tonight— if not tho, count on seeing an update tomorrow! Have a great day/night, y'all ❤️~Vinny
Mrs. Bennet had been looking around warily, the dim lights making her slight wrinkles cast long shadows across her youthful blue eyes. Except.. when she saw how Darcy handled the half asleep Lizzy (who, adorably, had squirmed and frowned in her sleep until he kissed her quick— upon which point she smiled, and drifted off again), Mrs. Bennet's worry softened into something like affection.
"You really love her, don't you?" She said, quietly.
"Yes, I do," Darcy said awkwardly, running a hand through his bed head as he cleared his throat again. "So. What was it you wanted to say?"
"I thought Thomas was just kidding, when he said Elizabeth might've found the One, he likes to tease me you know… likes to rattle my nerves…"
"Mrs. Bennet—," he interrupted. "Please. Explain?"
The older woman blinked, as if resetting her brain back onto the right track. She pursed her lips. "Well. I think… I think I have a solution to.. to Mr. Bennet's problem."
Darcy raised his eyebrows at the woman. "You do?"
He… For some reason, he was having a hard time believing this was who figured out the problem that was currently tearing Lizzy's family apart. But, nevertheless, he asked her to— again— explain.
"Well, I may not be.. the fastest.. on my feet, in a conversation (Mr. Bennet can tell you that much, I'm sure) but I like to think of myself as a… helpful busybody, sometimes. While you and Lizzy were… off together— I won't pry, dearie, you don't have to blush— I talked to a VERY NICE doctor who said… Well, she ran some tests on me… just for curiosity's sake, and, as it turns out… I'm compatible. A possible donor."
"What?!" Darcy cried, "Th-That's great! When can you—"
Mrs. Bennet stopped him with one finger in the air. "There are two… problems. One of them is the danger of the actual operation." She gestured to her midsection, which wasn't overweight.. but it wasn't thin either. "I'm… not his body type— even though, with the X-Rays, we found out our organs are roughly the same size. It means (I think) that there may be more complications because of that… and the complication rate for the surgery— the nice doctor said— was 40%. And for three weeks, we'll both be in the hospital. And there's still a chance it might not work— or that my liver will fail because of it."
"Oh." He wrinkled shirt brow. That was.. a lot of information to take in… "So.. maybe you shouldn't…?"
Darcy trailed off as Mrs. Bennet covered her mouth in silent laughter. "Oh, oh dear," she said, trying to smother her grin, "No no— it's not your decision, love. It's mine."
Mrs. Bennet's face took on the steady look of a practiced soldier. Her blue eyes flashed in the hospital lights. "And I will do whatever it takes to save my husband's life."
He nodded. He put a hand to his eyes, and took it away quickly; he was incredibly tired, but wanted to keep listening to what Mrs. Bennet had to say.
"Besides," she continued, "I wouldn't even tell you unless I needed your help."
Darcy inclined his head. "How can I help," he said in an even tone.
"Do you have $25,000?"
He blinked. "Pardon?"
"Well," Mrs. Bennet said, flatly, "I talked— politely— with the insurance company, and they agreed that if we find a donor they will cover the cost of Thomas' transplant. But I… may have misled them.. a bit. I made it sound like there was no hope, and I upped our insurance plan 'out of pure prayer' so they were practically falling over themselves trying to take the deal. So— we'll only have to pay for MY surgery. A partial removal. And the doctors said.. it will cost about $25,000. (And I don't know if that includes the recovery stay afterwards, but we'll figure it out..) Now. We don't have that kind of money. Do you think you could…?"
"Yes," Darcy said, then lowered his voice. "Yes. I'll cover whatever is needed. I.. I have plenty to give."
She sighed in relief, and smiled. "Thank you so much," Mrs. Bennet breathed, maternally squeezing his arms, "I can't thank you enough."
He nodded in acknowledgment, and moved his mouth into a smile. "So.. should I.. wake Lizzy? Tell her the news?"
Mrs. Bennet winced. "Better not. Elizabeth's… not the most… well, she's not all there, right when she wakes up. Plus, she'll worry herself sick— got that from me. Better to tell her in the morning."
Darcy was about to turn away and (quite literally) fall asleep, when Mrs. Bennet let out a little 'oh!' noise, and grabbed his arm again. "Actually," she said, "You should.. maybe-probably-should downplay your role in all of this. Elizabeth… well, she doesn't like people solving her money problems. She'll be grateful— of course she will!— but.. well, she might… get a little on edge, is all. That you're paying for everything."
"I.. understand. I'll… I'll figure it out. Thank you. Have a good night."
And just like that, the older woman suddenly reverted back to the nervous, fluttery state he had met her in. It was like he had flipped a switch.
"Oh oh, I have so much to do..," she fretted, bustling to the doorway, then turning around as if she had forgotten where she was. Her eyes alighted on Darcy. "Oh. Goodnight!"
He smiled, and shook his head as Mrs. Bennet puttered away. He sometimes had a hard time believing SHE was Lizzy's mother..
He stuck his hands in his pockets, and turned around slowly. Lizzy had all but taken over the chairs now, sprawled out and dreaming with one hand laying limp on the ground.
She was so gorgeous. All the time. Darcy didn't know how she did it.
Lizzy looked so soft, and peaceful, lying there with her eyes closed and her hair in her face. He brushed a few curls aside lovingly, adoring the way her nose twitched and her eyelashes jumped before she settled into a new dream.
Darcy yawned. It was late. But he didn't have a place to go that wasn't miles and miles away, and besides… he wanted to stay with her. Just for a little while longer— and then a little longer than that.
He laid down beside her, one the floor, taking off his button-down to mash up into a makeshift pillow (he still had on an undershirt, so he still felt decent enough for public appearances). As Darcy made himself comfortable on the cold tiled floor, he took Lizzy's hand— the one that had flopped down from her chair— and entwined his fingers so they would stay together.
Her hand was warm. The fingers stretched and nudged against his, making sure it was him before squeezing with unspoken assurance.
Darcy smiled. He could never regret coming back to her. He could never regret falling for this sleepy, silly, wonder of a woman.
And with that thought, Fitzwilliam Darcy fell again. This time, not in love, but into sleep.