Hold On

Summery: A year after their wedding, Col. Brandon and Marianne's life together gets turned upside down after an unexpected guest arrives. Tragic one-shot.

A/n: Please be kind, I've never written a story based on anything by Jane Austin. I've never really read the book, but I have seen the movie 'Sense and Sensibility' and I love it! (Actually, I'm in love with Col. Brandon…drool.)

Col. Christopher Brandon looked up thoughtfully from the book he was reading. He looked lovingly at his wife, Marianne Dashwood-Brandon, who returned her husband's gaze, putting a hand on her rather large belly.

"How goes the little one, then?" Brandon asked, a faint smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Marianne smiled, sitting on the sofa across from her husband.

"The child is feisty, I'll give you that," she said, a hint of pride in her voice as she patted her stomach. Brandon returned to his book.

"Takes after his mother, then, doesn't he?" he asked, still fighting a smile. He looked up at a knock on the door. "Who in the—?" he started. Brandon got up and opened the front door. It was John Willoughby.

"You," Brandon whispered, remembering how the man before him had broken Marianne's heart. "What are you doing here? Get off my property!"

Willoughby was silent. He gave a sort of ironic smile when he saw Marianne standing a few feet behind her husband.

"Marianne," he whispered, bowing. Brandon grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the rain.

"Get off my property or I will drag you off!" he snapped. "Stay away from my wife!"

Willoughby ignored Brandon's words. He looked over the colonel's shoulder, still speaking in an audible whisper.

"Marianne, I'm sorry,"

Marianne gasped as a crack rang through the house. She watched in horror as her husband's body went rigid, relaxing as he fell back onto the wood floor of the house.

"Christopher!" she cried, kneeling next to Brandon. She looked up at Willoughby in horror. "Why!"

Willoughby shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He pointed the pistol at himself and fired.

Marianne grasped onto Brandon's hand, tears falling down her face.

"Hold on, Christopher, please," she said.

Brandon gasped, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. His breathing became quick and shallow as his punctured lung filled with blood.

"Muh-Marianne," he mumbled, coughing. "I—"

Marianne put a finger to Brandon's lips.

"Ssh, don't talk. Don't talk, hold on," she whispered. "Please…don't leave me and the baby! Don't leave us!"

Brandon coughed again, his face growing paler with each shallow breath.

"I—I love you," he whispered. He squeezed his wife's hand, taking in how warm her flesh felt as he grew colder.

"Christopher, for God's sake, don't leave me!" Marianne cried, weeping into Brandon's bloody shirt. She could feel the life drain from Brandon's body each time he exhaled. The colonel swallowed loudly, only to cough up a mouth full of blood.

"I…won't leave you…" he muttered. "Not completely. Agh…Marianne just…do one thing for me…"

Marianne nodded. Brandon felt his wife's hot tears fall onto his cold skin.

"Tell our son…I died to protect my family…I just wish I—could see him dressed up in my old…army uniform," he said, making a noise that sounded like a mix of a chuckle and a cough. "I love you," he whispered.

Marianne gently laid her head against her husband's chest. She wept bitterly as Brandon's heartbeat became slower and slower, then finally stopped.