Darcy thought he knew what it was to be afraid. He was afraid when he began taking his father's position as master of Pemberley. He had been afraid when his sister had been in love with Wickham. He had been afraid when he proposed to his wife at the parish, to speak nothing of the second time he had proposed.

But this...this was terror. He had a horse mounted while he dispatched a letter to the Bingleys, then he rode like mad into town to get the doctor. Why didn't I have a doctor on retainer and staying at Pemberley? I know of the danger of childbirth, why didn't I prepare better.

Meanwhile, still in the house, Lizzy shouted for her maid to fetch Mrs. Reynolds, the only person she trusted to keep a clear head while they welcomed the child into the world. By the time the elder woman had joined her in the master bedroom, Lizzy was clutching at her covers, working her way through the first of her labor pains.

Darcy returned with Dr. Trainor within the hour. He ran back to Lizzy, only to be hurried out again by Mrs. Reynolds.

"No, Mr. Darcy, I insist. The last thing we need is you in this room." Mr. Darcy was inclined neither to comply nor to test himself against Mrs. Reynolds' will, especially in an area in which she was so much more experienced. Therefore, he left mostly of his own free will, passing the doctor-who had finally arrived.

The moment he was in the hall, he called for a servant to bring a chair. He was lucky that several of his men had woken up in the commotion, and a chair was immediately brought to the hall. Immediately upon sitting in said chair, Darcy felt himself unable to rest, and began pacing.

Lizzy, meanwhile, was wondering how humanity had continued so long, with this as the method for progeneration. Dr. Trainor assured her everything was going well, especially since it was her first time giving birth; Lizzy wondered how he could possibly have had an opinion on this, having never been in the position himself. She also felt that the comment that she had grown considerably large would have been better kept to himself.

Why didn't I at least ask Bingley and Jane to stay when I knew Elizabeth was close to her time? Brooded Darcy as he wore another path through the antique carpet of the hall. They won't be here for hours, and I know if there's anyone who can get Elizabeth through this, it's her. He heard every cry from her from his position in the hall, felt his heart wrench with pain every time she began. He felt his heart drop with fear every time she stopped.

After what felt like years, but was in reality only about ten hours, Mrs. Bingley came running past Mr. Darcy, looking pale and, for the first time in his memory, disheveled. Bingley came several minutes later, visibly out of breath from trying to keep up with his wife. He was the first person to occupy the chair since its introduction to the hall, and shortly after arriving he asked Darcy how it was proceeding.

"I have no idea. They won't let me in, all I know is that I confirm she's still alive every time I hear her call out in pain." Bingley flinched at this description.

Lizzy wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Years of walking had been wonderful exercise, but she couldn't conceive of the miles she would have needed to cover to prepare for what she was now asking of her body. When Jane finally ran into the room, she reached for her sister's hands on pure instinct. Her pains were only moments apart now, and weren't hurting any less.

The next contraction was the worst she had felt yet-she knew the others in the room wouldn't like it, but she needed her husband in the room.

"FITZWILLIAM DARCY. GET IN THIS ROOM. NOW." Lizzy screamed with surprising force for someone clenching their jaw so tightly.

Darcy didn't need to be asked twice; he forced the door open to find his wife in their bed sitting in blood and…no, he didn't want to know. Jane released one of Lizzy's hands, and he claimed it in his own. The moment he looked in her eyes, he knew she was just as afraid as she was.

"Mrs. Darcy," implored Dr. Trainor, "I really must insist that Mr. Darcy quit the room. This is no place for a father-"

"If Mr. Darcy sets one foot outside of this room, Doctor, I swear on this entire estate that I will have you forcibly removed directly in his wake." For once, Darcy was glad that his wife's fine eyes were not directed at him; he believed that their fire would have incinerated him where he stood.

"Ahem. Very well, Mrs. Darcy…if you insist."

"I do-ah." Lizzy bent forward, and Mrs. Reynolds nudged the doctor.

"I believe it might be time for Mrs. Darcy to push, doctor." Dr. Trainor was about to argue with the older woman; he was, after all, the doctor here, and they'd had enough breeches of custom with Mr. Darcy in the room, when Jane interupted.

"Mrs. Reynolds-Doctor-I believe I see the head!"

"Alright, Mrs. Darcy, it's time to push. It won't be long now."

Darcy refused to take his eyes off his wife's face, terrified she was in the same danger his mother had been in, terrified she was too weak, that it had taken too long, that the baby was too large for her small body, that he had found his other half and was about to lose her.

Lizzy couldn't help the primordial moans that came out of her mouth with the last heavy push. She suddenly felt a huge relief. She fell back upon the pillows and closed her eyes, breathing as deeply as she could, grateful that it was now over. Darcy released her hand to examine his first-born.

"Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, it's a boy!"

"A boy-oh!" Lizzy's pain had returned, just as sharp just as strong. This was not the afterbirth Lizzy's mother had warned her of. This was just like having the baby all over again. Lizzy wasn't sure she could do it a second time. Darcy returned to her side, having barely glanced at his son.

"Oh. Mrs. Reynolds, Mrs. Reynolds, please, what's happening?" Lizzy cried.

"Dr. Trainor, what's the meaning of this?" Darcy barked.

"Oh my. Lizzy, I see a head!" Jane cried again. The pain started to pass again, and Lizzy was starting to wonder if the first pains had damaged her mind and caused her to fabricate this.

"What? How? Lizzy!" Darcy felt his wife's grip return, and she renewed her moans.

"I...I...this is not the standard procedure, sir!" Dr. Trainor had gone pale. Jane, being the only person present who had actually grasped the situation, pushed Dr. Trainor into a corner of the room and placed herself between her sister's knees.

"Lizzy, dearest, I'm going to need you to be strong. I'm going to need you to push." If he hadn't been so focused on holding his wife's hand and watching her face for signs of danger, Darcy would have wondered at the new tone of command in his sister-in-law's voice.

"Must I, Jane? I'm so tired." Jane looked at her sister and realized how exhausted she truly was. But she would have to do this, God and nature had left her no choice.

"You must, Lizzy. But focus, darling, a moment's work can bring a lifetime of happiness." Lizzy moaned again. "Now, Lizzy, push as hard as you can!"

This labor pain lasted only a moment, and as Lizzy fell back against the pillows, she was just conscious enough to hear her sister's announcement.

"Lizzy, Mr. Darcy, it's a girl!"