Disclaimer: Ngozi Ukazu owns Eric Bittle and the rest of the Samwell crew, and Hank Green and Bernie Su own this iteration of Lizzie Bennet and company.

Eric's in class when his phone starts vibrating with an incoming call. He ignores it the first time, but then it rings again, so he pulls it out of his bag and checks the called ID. When he sees that both calls have been from Lizzie, he stands, gathers his things, and slips out of the lecture hall. Lizzie doesn't call often, and the only other time she's called without texting first was after her big fight with Charlotte. That wasn't exactly an emergency, and he isn't sure that this is one either, but calling twice seems just out-of-character enough that he feels compelled to check.

The phone has gone to voicemail by the time Eric makes it into the hallway, so he calls Lizzie back and says, "Lizzie! What's going on?" as soon as she picks up.

"Oh my God, the sky is falling," says Lizzie. "I know I get dramatic a lot, but I'm not kidding at all this time. I'm at the airport, and my flight home starts boarding soon, and I have way too much nervous energy right now."

"Why are you going home?" Eric asks, his own nervousness crawling up from his stomach to his chest and throat.

"Because George Wickham has been dating Lydia, and now he's set up a website asking for subscriptions to a sex tape with her in it." Lizzie's voice is flat in a way that's somehow much more worrying than sobs would be.

"Oh my Lord," says Eric, feeling like he's about to throw up. "That's awful."

"I'd say I have no idea how he talked her into this," Lizzie says, "but I know him. I know how charming he can be, and I've heard Gigi's story too, and it's actually not even that surprising. I just wish I'd been a better sister. I haven't even talked to Lydia since Christmas! If I'd been talking to her, or watching her videos, I could have warned her." She sighs. "You told me I was messing up with Lydia. You can say, 'I told you so.'"

"Oh my goodness, honey, I would never," says Eric. "This sucks for all of you, all the way around. I don't wish it on any of you, and certainly not for such a petty reason as proving a point."

"Thanks," says Lizzie. "I just feel so bad. If I'd watched Lydia's videos, I would have known she was with George."

"And if she'd watched your videos, she would have heard Gigi's story," Eric replies. "And that doesn't make it Lydia's fault, or yours, at all. George is the one who did bad things here. This is his fault."

"Maybe," Lizzie mutters. "God, I'm so grateful to Darcy. George makes me want to give up on men, but then Darcy reminds me that some of them aren't terrible after all."

"Huh?" says Eric. "Why?"

"Oh, right, I haven't posted what happened yet," Lizzie says. "I was with Darcy when I got Charlotte's call about the sex tape, and he booked my flight and got his driver to take me to the airport."

"That is sweet," Eric agrees. "It's nice to have friends who have money."

"Friends," says Lizzie derisively. "Yeah."

"What?" Eric asks, confused by her tone.

"Just, one does not simply consider oneself friends with William Darcy."

"You don't get to make ancient meme references if you're not going to let me make ancient meme references," Eric points out. "And what do you mean, you aren't friends with Darcy? You think he'd book you a flight and a ride if he didn't like you?"

Lizzie sighs. "I do think he likes me, but . . . I think it's more complicated than that. Anyway, none of this matters. My baby sister is in a sex tape that's supposed to become public in two weeks."

"Yeah," says Eric. "That's definitely the bigger deal here."

"Okay, my flight is boarding. Can I call you again soonish, though? I have a feeling the next few weeks are going to be pretty hard."

Eric thinks about his hockey schedule and his classes and bites down a sigh. Being a good friend is at least as important as hockey or class. "Yeah, for sure," he says.

"Thanks," says Lizzie, and then she hangs up.

OoOoO

It's late afternoon when Lizzie gets home, but it feels like her morning interview with Darcy was several weeks ago. She asks her parents where Lydia is, and her mother says, "She's been seeing a lot of that lovely swimmer lately. Hopefully soon they'll be making tiny swimmers of their own," and Lizzie wants to vomit. She's been calling Lydia all day, but Lydia hasn't been picking up, which has Lizzie really, really worried. She calls Charlotte, but Charlotte has a meeting with de Burgh that can't be put off, so she can only talk for a few minutes.

After talking to Charlotte, Lizzie sets up her camera in the den because it has the best view of the hallway to the stairs, and then she paces for a while, because she wants to get out her nervous energy but she feels like she shouldn't leave the house. She's not sure there's anyone she can call right now—she's already called Eric today, and she doesn't want to call Jane unless she has to, since fashion week is coming up, and, whatever Eric may have said about quoting ancient memes, one does not simply call William Darcy. Hopefully she can talk Lydia out of posting the sex tape, and everything will be okay by nightfall. She comforts herself with the idea that she can make Lydia see sense, and she films a bit of intro and plays some games on her phone while waiting for Lydia to get home.

And then Lydia gets home, and it turns out she never consented to the sex tape.

After Lydia runs to her room, Lizzie waits outside the door for a few minutes and asks Lydia to let her in, but, when that fails, she steps outside to take a walk while she calls Jane. Jane agrees to come home right away, but she says she has some logistics to take care of first, and she hangs up after only a few minutes. Lizzie doesn't want to go home right away, but she also doesn't want to be alone with her thoughts. Charlotte doesn't answer her text, so that leaves Eric.

"Hey," comes Eric's familiar accent when he picks up. "I was wondering if you'd call again. How are you? How's Lydia?"

"Lydia didn't consent to the sex tape," Lizzie says.

"Oh my Lord," says Eric faintly. "Oh my goodness, that is . . . oh my Lord."

"Pretty much," says Lizzie. "She ran to her room and I haven't seen or heard from her since. I just called Jane, and she's coming home. I can't imagine that's good for her career—it's almost fashion week—but sometimes family is more important. I've managed not to tell our parents yet. I don't know how long that will last. I honestly hate the thought of telling either of them. Dad would be ashamed and Mom just wouldn't get it, I think."

"It sounds like you're trying to manage a lot right now," Eric observes. "Which parts are actually your responsibility?"

"I'm the only one currently in the correct city who knows what's going on and isn't the immediate victim here, so I think it's all on my plate."

"I know it feels that way, and maybe that's true for now," says Eric, "but can you share some of the responsibility once Jane arrives?"

Lizzie sighs. "Maybe. I'm still the one who brought George into our lives, though, and I'm the one who pushed Lydia away."

"This again?" Eric asks. "You know this isn't your fault, honey."

"No, I don't know that, because it is my fault," insists Lizzie.

"It's George's fault," Eric insists. "Seriously, Shitty would give you an entire lecture right now if he could hear you. Men who exploit vulnerable women are to blame for the abuse in those relationships. The women being exploited are not at fault."

"What about the women who contribute to other women's vulnerability in the first place?" Lizzie asks.

Eric sighs. "You're still not responsible for George."

"I'm not convinced, but thanks for trying," says Lizzie. "I just feel so awful, you know? I pushed Lydia out of my life when she needed someone to be around for her. I didn't speak to her for weeks, and I didn't watch her videos or try to keep up with her life at all. I had to find out about the sex tape from Charlotte, who's not even related to us! Like, I love Charlotte, and she's practically family, but she's not actually one of my sisters, and she shouldn't need to look out for Lydia when I'm not even willing to do that."

"That makes sense, and it's real," says Eric. "But regret can only be useful if you use it to make sure you do better going forward."

"You're wise beyond your years," says Lizzie. Just then, her phone starts buzzing with an incoming call from Charlotte. "Sorry, Charlotte's calling. I'll talk to you some other time, okay? Thanks for taking my call."

"No problem," says Eric. "I hope things get better."

"Thanks. So do I," Lizzie says, and then she accepts Charlotte's call and drops Eric's.