NOTES: Lizzy's POV. Pretty normal size. Lots of cuteness and fluff— hurt/comfort too.

😂 last night I pulled a Darcy, and left my laptop at school. Sorry I wasn't able to post yesterday, but hopefully I will make it up by posting twice today! Stay safe, and stay awesome, y'all 💖~Vinny

Lizzy was awake for a solid ten minutes before she was able to open her eyes. This was somewhat a result of her lingering drowsiness (something that ALWAYS happened whether she slept well or not), but mostly a result of the crusty, heavy lidding feeling of her eyes.

One of her hands was stuck to something warm and firm on the floor. Lizzy tried to tug it up to rub her eyes. Whatever was holding it there though.. wouldn't budge. There was a soft (snoring..?) sound coming from that area. Huh. Weird.

She gave up trying to pull her fingers away, and rubbed the gunk off her eyelids with the other hand. Lizzy sat up, and looked down groggily to where her hand was still trapped by the floor. Her face softened.

Lizzy reached down, and brushed the hair from Fitzwilliam's sleeping face.

His eyes blinked open. His fingers twitched around hers as his eyes came into focus, the glassy brown haze leaving their coffee-stained irises.

He smiled. "Good morning," Fitzwilliam said, his voice a soothing rumble emanating from his chest.

Lizzy gave him an amused and affectionate look. "Morning, love. Mind telling me why you're on the floor."

"Oh.. I…" Fitzwilliam gestured vaguely to the chairs, "You were… asleep.. and I didn't…" He blinked. "Did you just call me love?"

She giggled, and bent down to kiss his sweet sleepy face. "And here I thought I was the one with morning-brain," Lizzy said. "I'll check on dad, then grab us some coffee."

"Mmmkay.." He said, sleepily. Fitzwilliam winced as she stood up and let go of his hand, stretching his probably stiff-as-hell (why did he choose the floor again?) back. "Kiss before you go?"

"Of course," she laughed.

This time, he actually responded as their lips met, and Lizzy melted into the embrace.

She had almost forgotten how good he was at that. It made her feel like.. like… like they were alone in the world, only the two of them… and it was wonderful.

"Aaaalright," Fitzwilliam drawled, ending their kiss and laughingly pushing her away, "Go check on your dad."

Then all of a sudden he stopped, and his smile fell away. "Actually… wait.. could I— uh, go with you this time?"

Lizzy raised her shoulders in a shrug. "If you'd like."

She wondered a little why he wanted to come in with her— she felt solid enough not to require moral support (although it did help), and nothing much could have changed in one night.

But she easily let it go as she took his hand.

When they opened the door however, the faint murmuring that had filtered through the cracks in the wall stopped— and three pairs of eyes swiveled to stare at them.

"...hi," Lizzy said, stepping inside.

"Hi," Lydia said back, smiling hugely— though it seemed slightly manic, if Lizzy was being honest with herself.

"Oh— Good morning Elizabeth!" Mrs. Bennet said, twittering happy, "My, you two slept late— well, that's understandable, you've always been a late sleeper and, well, I'm sure Mr. Darcy had a… well, I'm sure he has his reasons…. Come in, come in! We've been waiting for you, haven't we, dear?"

Mr. Bennet said nothing.

He was looking past Lizzy... at Fitzwilliam with an odd mixture of mild resentment and appraisal— as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of him.

Lizzy started. "Oh! I'm so sorry. Fitzwilliam, this is my father. Dad, this is—"

"We've met," Mr. Bennet interrupted.

"Oh." She closed her mouth.

She had no idea what to do with her hands, other than squeeze with the one Fitzwilliam was holding. He squeezed back.

"Do come in, Elizabeth," her mother pleaded, smiling. "We have something to tell you— don't we, Thomas?"

"I don't like this, Maggie." Mr. Bennet eyed his wife, then looked away. "You could get hurt."

Mrs. Bennet's face suddenly took on a rather serious expression. Wait.. now, Lizzy remembered when she had last seen that look in her mother's eyes.

It had been when all the girls except Lizzy and Jane were in high school, just when Marcus had started testosterone pills. Some of the kids at school had pushed him down the stairs and called him slurs, all because he had tried out for the all-male soccer team.

Mrs. Bennet— younger then, but just as airheaded and silly— had suddenly turned as stern as stone, and took her tearful middle child to the principal. Marcus had screamed the whole car ride over, crying that he didn't want any trouble. Mrs. Bennet got those kids suspended anyway. She wouldn't stand for anyone in her family being hurt, or disrespected.

She stood up for them, when they were too afraid to do it themselves.

Lizzy put a hand over her mouth. "You did it," she whispered. Everyone turned to look at her. Lizzy's eyes were fixed on Mrs. Bennet's. "You found a way to save him."

Fitzwilliam's hand stiffened a bit, and Lydia's eyebrows rose. Mr. Bennet didn't react at all. His wife just inclined her head, and smiled.

"I did."

"Well… I…" Lizzy choked on her words. Then she let go over Fitzwilliam's hand and ran to her mother. Mrs. Bennet's arms lifted just in time to catch her least-favorite (but still beloved) daughter in an airborne bear hug.

When the laughter died down and Mrs. Bennet untangled her hand from the back of Lizzy's hair, she began to explain.

"I ran some tests, on my tissue and blood and whatnot," Mrs. Bennet said, tearfully grinning, "And I was a match! I'll be able to give Mr. Bennet half my liver, then, with luck, both of ours will grow back to full size! Like starfish, the doctor said. Isn't it wonderful?"

"No," Mr. Bennet grumbled.

His wife turned to him, sighing. "What is it now, Thomas?"

"This risk of complications is too high!" He argued, pointing at her with a worrying finger. "You still have more years than I do— and there's still a chance that the cancer can come back! There's no reason to risk your life for mine."

"There's every reason," Mrs. Bennet said sternly. "This is MY choice. I'm just giving you the benefits. I'll be fine."

Her serious face cracked around the edges, and she leaned over to take his hand. "Besides," she whispered, "I- I'm not… I'm not ready to.. live in a world without you. Please. Just consent to the surgery."

Mr. Bennet looked up at his wife. Then he sighed, and his yellowing cheeks were pushed back by a slow grin. With one frail hand, he gripped her wrist, holding it comfortingly.

"Fine," he griped lovingly, "But no more surgeries. I don't want to be hooked to machines for the rest of my days— After this? We just let nature run its course."

Mrs. Bennet snickered, and kissed his forehead. "It's cute you think I'll let you go."

Lizzy smiled at her parents, then looked back to Fitzwilliam. It struck her then, that there was no one else she'd rather spend her life with. No one else she trusted quite this much..

He caught her staring, and smiled at her. He walked over, and put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him.

"Well," Fitzwilliam said, addressing the room, "is there anything else we can do for you right now?"

Mr. Bennet's smile quickly lessened as he watched Fitzwilliam with that odd, bloodshot stare. "No, son. You.. you've done enough."

"By BEING HERE," Mrs. Bennet loudly interrupted, laying a hand on her husband's arm. He grunted, and stayed quiet after that.

Lizzy raised an eyebrow at the way Fitzwilliam's eyes darted back and forth, like an animal about to be caged. Why would he be… he looked almost.. guilty? But.. this was a happy occasion, their problems were solved, all because of… Because of...

Her eyes widened. Lizzy tensed up as she turned to Fitzwilliam. "Did you…?"

She broke off, and then turned to her family with a tight smile. "Excuse us for a sec."

It was hard not to notice, as they hustled from the room, how Fitzwilliam hunched his shoulders, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut, bracing for an impact of some sort.

The wooden door of room D23 sounded like a coffin lid, slamming shut behind them.