A/N: Sorry this is so short, but a lot happens. And, YAY!, it's not so sad anymore. Y'all will be mad at me for this, but, trust me, i have genius plans...O, and i'm going to see our high school production of Romeo and Juliet tomorrow, how's that for coincidences? xD

'Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains

The stony entrance of the sepulcher?

What mean these masterless and gory swords

To lie discolored by this place of peace?

Romeo! O, pale!—Who else? What, Paris too?

And steeped in blood?—Ah, what an unkind hour

Is guilty of this lamentable chance!

The lady stirs.

O comfortable Friar! Where is my lord?

I do remember well where I should be,

And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest

Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep.

A greater power than we can contradict

Hath thwarted out intents. Come, come away

Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead,

And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee

Among a sisterhood of holy nuns.

Stay not to question, for the watch is coming.

Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay.

Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.—

What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand?

Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.—

O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop

To help me after? I will kiss thy lips.

Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,

To make me die with a restorative.

Thy lips are warm.

Lead, boy. Which way?

Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger,

This is thy sheath. There rust and let me die.'

Slowly shutting the book, Fitzwilliam looked up into the glaring light of the sun. Going to the window, Fitzwilliam rubbed his forehead in meditation. Reflecting on his reading, a peculiar thought came to him. The circumstances in which both Romeo and Juliet lost their lives was one in which he was living. This thought began him thinking.

He must have the strength to endure the passage until Mrs. Darcy awoke. It would not do to worry himself to derangement. Elizabeth was destined to wake, no matter how shortly or belatedly she was foreordained to do so. He was not required to be lighthearted, cheery, or festive in any way. However, he was obliged to continue on with all other aspects of his life.

Leaving the window, Fitzwilliam went to his study. There, he began completing all the business ventures he had dismissed from his mind at the time of their wedding. Contemplating and studying a motley assortment of proposals, documents, letters, and other such items took the duration of many hours. The sun had set a number of hours previously, and Fitzwilliam's eyes were squinting at the letter before him out of sheer exhaustion. Attempting to organize his desk in the dark, Fitzwilliam traced the often employed path to his bedchamber. Sinking into bed, Fitzwilliam felt that something was not right.

Fitzwilliam abided by a regulated schedule for several more days, finally becoming so emotionally drained that he broke the set pattern that ruled his days. Taking a ride through Pemberley, he felt as if he had not seen the light of day for quite some time. Lounging on the lawn, Fitzwilliam stared out at the lake. The sun reflected off the rippled water; an image he might have forgotten, had he stayed indoors any longer. Basking in the sun, he closed his eyes for a moment. Opening them once again, Fitzwilliam found half the day to have passed by.

Fitzwilliam remembered describing to Elizabeth the beauties of Pemberley. She was genuinely anticipating the days on the lawn he had promised her, and the remembrance of his promise filled him with chagrin. Saddling up, he set out to visit his unconscious wife.

Passing by the parlor, he heard Mrs. Reynolds conversing with herself. This was not a sight often seen, indeed, Fitzwilliam had never known Mrs. Reynolds in all of their acquaintance to possess this interesting quality. Stopping to inquire the purpose of her befuddling mood, Fitzwilliam was nearly about to enter, when she mentioned his name.

"…dear me, what is to become of us? Mr. Darcy will never concede that he is being distant for no plausible reason. O, when Mrs. Darcy awakes, she will not be pleased with the state her husband has happened into. This is not what I would have pictured their first few months of marriage to be like; and I hazard a presumption that they did not either. Would to heaven that any thing could be either said or done on my part, that might prevent further disappointments- However, this matter must be revisited later, I fully expect Mr. Darcy to return to work, and I dare not be found discussing with myself his affairs. I ought to oversee Sara in her duties…" Mrs. Reynolds trailed off, muttering undoubtedly about household chores. Fitzwilliam slipped away unnoticed, heading to his room to mull over what he had heard.

A/N: So? REVIEW! please! i never seem to get reviews any more, it makes me feel so abandoned...and check out my profile to keep updated on my stories. AND, i have neat future story ideas CHECK THEM OUT!