Author's note: This is my first attempt at a modern fanfic (the regency one I tried to do still remains on hiatus unfortunately) Please be forgiving!

Disclaimer: Lalala, all characters and plot references belong to Jane Austen. If I owned them...I not sure what I would do.

Plot Summary: Exploring Fitzwilliam's childhood. Also more drama with Anne, Juli and Henry. Sorry to all those who wanted an appearance of Jane and Lizzy meeting Fitzy.

Enjoy!

--

"Fitzwilliam dear, you better hurry up and get dressed or we'll be late," Lady Anne called to her young son who was currently engrossed in a book. Though enamored, the child reluctantly looked up at his mother and sighed, carefully bookmarking the page and scampering off to his room.

Anne sighed and looked around the room. This was her favourite room, the library. Though she had found it in ruins as Henry wasn't really fond of reading, she had redecorated it and spent time and care building a collection to fill up the masses of shelves.

I'm so lucky that Fitzwilliam loves reading too, she mused then sighed. It was true that her marriage to Henry Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire wasn't perfect, but she was glad to bear all the problems that came with it because of their child.

She walked around the room slowly, fingering objects artistically displayed on shelves that brought on fond memories. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her reflection that made her stop and look more carefully. I am a lady, she thought, inspecting her appearance. The woman who stared back looked slightly unhealthy: arms and hands seemingly a bit frail and her hair starting to lose the luster of youth. I'm getting old, she thought.

The joy and laughter of youth had been replaced by the troubles and complications that love and her marriage had brought on. It was all shown on her face. Wrinkles were starting to appear at the corners of her eyes and mouth and her eyes had a look of worry and an air of sadness. The lively young girl from university was gone and was replaced by a …lady.

With this, she began walking once more and this time caught sight of a framed photo resting on the fireplace mantel. The flickering, dancing flames cast shadows onto the smiles of Juli, Fitzwilliam and herself from her friend's last visit. Funny how Juli left without a word.

Fitzwilliam entered, this time properly dressed, to find his mother lovingly fingering a photo "Mummy, I'm ready," he stated walking towards her. Juli looking one last time at the picture as if to try to take some of the happiness of it with her, set it back on its original place and smiled down to her son.

"Yes dear, let's go."

--

Their next meeting was to be of a sad one, a funeral to be precise for Anne's mother, the late Lady Leanne. Juli flew back to England where cloud and fog, reflecting the mood, greeted her on arrival. The gloom of the city heightened her anxiousness.

Leanne was well known through England and many gathered to pay their respects to a wonderful woman and hostess. Juli, rather than seeking Anne out, quietly joined into the line of mourners, fading into the black crowd, for the viewing. As she passed the woman that she considered her second mother, Juli saw how peacefully she was sleeping. She has escaped the worries of the world…

Numbly, Juli found herself sitting in a hard wooden church pew as the pontiff began his service of remembrance. Anne and her sister both got up to talk fondly about their mother, about her accomplishments and the wonderful memories they had together. Juli choked back a sob as she too remembered the happy days they all spent, without a care in the world.

"Juli!" Anne cried when she spotted her friends at the reception afterwards. The two rushed towards each other and embraced fiercely.

"Anne! Oh, how I've missed you dearly," Juli answered when they finally released each other. They searched each other's tear stained expression and shared the pain of the passing. Juli surreptitiously scanned the room for Anne's husband just in case, but seeing that he was absent, she took Anne's arm and led to her a corner where they could have more privacy.

"Mummy, may I go to the library?" a small voice broke into their chatter.

"Oh I'm sorry dear, of course you may—" then turned back to Juli. "You haven't visited for a long while Juli."

"Fitzwilliam, the is your auntie Juli," Anne then told her son.

Juli bent down to eye level with the child, despite the restrictions of the formal mourning wear, shook his hand and pronounced that she was very glad to finally see him again. Deep blue eyes gazed back at her as a small smile and a lovely dimple in his chin appeared.

"Please t'meet you too," he answered shyly before scampering off.

"What a darling boy he's become Anne. Your letters truly don't do him justice—"

Fitzwilliam smiled as he turned the corner, the lady was nice, she was mummy's friend and best of all, she didn't talk badly behind his back like most adults did. That is, he smiled until he ran into a pair of legs and fell backwards from the impact. Gazing up from the floor, he met the stern eyes of his father glaring down at him and gulped hard.

"What have I said repeatedly about NOT RUNNING?" he roared. "Now out of my sight, boy!" Fitzwilliam quickly avoided the threatening swing of his father's arm and hurried away.

--

"Ahh there you are Henry," called Anne cheerfully to an approaching figure.

Juli, starting, tried her quiet escape but Anne's hold on her arm prevented it. "I want you to meet my husband Juli," she stated, bringing both of them to meet the man.

"Henry, this is Juliana Simmons, my best friend from school, I don't believe you two have ever met."

"Delighted, Ms Simmons."

"I was just about to invite her to dinner, Henry, what do you think?"

"Oh course, whatever you wish my love," he answered. Juli nearly snorted is disbelief. Her friend was sporting a look of adoration while her partner was slightly discomfited. There was a certain coolness to his response that made his pet names plastic.

Dinner was also a frigid affair. It was left up to Anne to fill in the awkward silence and tension that permeated the atmosphere. The master of the home was no better, answering with grunts, he disregarded his wife, his guest, and seemed more concentrated on leaving that anything else.

Anne excused herself to freshen up and left Juli sitting across the table from the sullen man. She studied him and found him rather handsome. His neat clothing and impeccable appearance was a great contrast to the drunk she had first met. Perhaps he has improved, she thought.

"Dinner is superb Mr. Darcy," Juli ventured, trying to fill the silence.

There was no answer. Anne returned to the quiet chewing sounds and clinking of cutlery to tableware and helped lighten the tension.

"Where is your hotel, Juli," Anne asked when they were done eating and had retired to the parlour.

"I hadn't checked in anywhere yet, I plan to return to London and then look up accommodations there."

"London? But it's almost dark already; you'll never reach there at a decent time. Why don't you stay here tonight?" she asked, almost imploringly.

"Very well," Juli gave in reluctantly.

That night, Juli found herself wandering the house in a way very similar to her last visit. Her hand paused over the handle to the library door, as she looked out through the hallway windows at the peace of the night. Her feet made whispering sounds over the hardwood floor as she turned on a single lamp and settled herself into a chair, just enjoying the view.

"I remember telling you never again to set foot in this house."

"Yes, I remember it well too."

"You really don't know all the trouble that you've caused – first influencing my wife, then my son," a hand reached out from the shadows and grabbed the framed picture of Juli, Anne and Fitzwilliam from her last visit. After it disappeared into the shadows for an instant, it was set down once again on another table.

A hand suddenly closed over Juli's mouth, successfully muting any sound and keeping her in place.

"However, you're also very attractive…very tempting…--" He trailed off as Juli bit against her hand, simultaneously stomping on his feet. Her attempts were successful as he let go of her, emitting a howl of pain.

"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU BASTARD!"

"Shut up bitch!" With that, hands shot out and grabbed Juli around the neck, her body lifting up slowly. Her hands reached up and try to pry his hands off.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" screamed someone at the door. Henry let go of Juli's neck at once, turned and saw it was Anne. He stepped in front of the collapsed figure, trying to hide his actions.

"Shut up woman. You're not to communicate with this whore any longer," he spat. "You will not try to contact her, and if even leave this house without my consent you will pay, you hear?"

"What?! What's happened to you Henry, why are you doing this?"

"SHUT UP I SAID. You will do as you're told," Henry threatened, gripping his wife's arm until she winced from the pain.

He picked up the framed picture that he had moved from its original spot, looked at it almost thoughtfully before roughly dashing it against the nearest wall. The glass shattered almost immediately and the photo was partially ripped from the twisting of the frame. He then dragged her upstairs into the room. The last the staff heard that evening was the slam of the door and muffled screams.

No one every notices, but in the shadows, a child hides. The horrors of the house are witnessed by eyes shrouded by the innocence of youth. It is a house of terrors.

--

A figure scooted through the darkness and shadows of the corridor and pushed open the door to the library, the well-oiled doors smoothly obeying. He peeked in and saw his mother seated in front of a coffee table. In the dim light that the dying flames gave off, he saw her hands, cut from cleaning off glass, holding the partially ripped picture. The picture from last night, he remembered as he saw the image of his mother, his auntie Juli and a baby version of himself happily seated in the park.

Anne began to cry softly, "Oh Juli, we are forever separated now. You will never return and I will never be able to leave. I am a prisoner—"

--

And thus were the years of Fitzwilliam Darcy's childhood. He heard and saw everything; the unseen shadow in the house. His father was abusive, his mother weak and getting frailer with each passing day, and the staff slowly diminishing from fear.

His mother walked around with bruises, though placed with care in places easily covered, it still showed with the pain in her every step. The lively mother she had been was replaced with a frail, almost mute figure. Father was a menacing figure. He would beat him in his drunken rages or destroy rooms. Father was also powerful, and all the servants knew that. No one dared to take action. It was a house of silence and terror.

Fitzwilliam saw himself as a protector of the one joy in his life, his sister, still unspoiled by the misery of his family. He protected her from their father during his rages and covered her ears from the screams of his mother. He played with her and taught her like a parent would.

Somehow, with the trauma all around him, Fitzwilliam still managed. Mrs. Reynolds, the household housekeeper, took charge. He relied and trusted her like he would have his own parents. The years passed, as Fitzwilliam grew, graduating from grade school, entering high school and studying hard. He had enrolled Georgiana in an all-girl's boarding school where she was far away and safe from the house. Lady Anne had faded away and had passed on. With each beating she had grown weaker, never really recovering the trauma. She had been scarred physically and emotionally and spent her last years withdrawn and silent. Yet even when she was lying in her coffin, the traces of her youthful beauty was still to be seen.

According to the doctor, the cause of death was a frail heart and it was a peaceful passing. The Darcy family and household knew it was more than that: it was the sad story of an abusive husband and his victim.

On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Fitzwilliam, lounging on his bunk at his boarding school residence, was called to the main office.

"A call for you Mr. Darcy," a secretary told him as a phone was handed to him.

"Hello?"

"Fitzwilliam, this is Reynolds," spoke a voice of the housekeeper back at Pemberley.

"Yes Mrs. Reynolds, is everything all right? It's not about Georgie is it?" he asked, starting to panic. No one usually contacted him through the administrative channels of the school, and he knew Mrs. Reynolds would only get a hold of him if the situation was urgent.

"No, no, Ms Georgiana is fine. It's about the master."

What's wrong with the Bastard, I hope he goes to hell. And with the housekeeper's explanation, the situation was explained, and his wish about to come true.

"The master is in the hospital, in critical condition. Apparently, he was drunk and drove himself into a lamppost on the highway. His chances of survival are slim, much less recovery. His lawyers would like to meet with you."

Questions were asked and answered, and soon Fitzwilliam himself was on a highway, headed for the hospital to consult with his father's lawyers. They explained to him that with the case of his father's possible passing, he would inherit the title of Lord Darcy of Pemberley Derbyshire along with the secondary title of Viscount Hastings. Along with the peerage rights, he would gain the ownership of his father's company: the Darcy International Pharmaceutical Corporation, a multibillion dollar empire.

A nurse knocked and entered the room, informing the group that Henry Darcy's situation was temporarily stable. Fitzwilliam continued on in school, soon graduating with exceptional grades when news of his father's sudden death stopped his graduation party short. Now at age 18, freshly graduated from high school, legally an adult, Fitzwilliam Darcy became Lord Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley Derbyshire, the Viscount Hastings and the owner of the Darcy International Pharmaceutical Corporation.

--

On a note of how I get my ideas, they are pretty much random. So the scenes of spousal abuse are points of my imagination.

Also, I have no clue how the English school system, their hospitals, or any such places in the story work! I am making this up along as I go. The titles and inheriting rights are also totally imagined.

I live in Canada, so I'm not even sure of the customs.

But since P&P nearly always has to be set in the states or back across the pond in England, bear with me 

Thank you bianca89 for alerting me that the ages of all the characters are a bit confusing so I'll try to explain:

Anne and Juli graduate uni at around 22 when Anne gets married and almost immediately gets pregnant with Fitz ; )

Georgie is born when Anne/ Juli is around 27

Juli meets James when she's 27/28 and he is around 32

When they meet, Jane is around 6, Lizzy 4, Fitz 7 and Georgie 1

So now that I've successfully killed of all the elderly of the Darcy family, the next chapter will concentrate more on Juli and their development.

I'm still trying to think of ways to incorporate the last three Bennet girls as cousins, roommates…anything (due to my forgetfulness) so if you have any ideas just let me know!

Thank you so much for reading! And those who reviewed!

Please R&R, and if you had ANY ideas do advise!

Once again, I thank you from the depths of my heart – trek-elly