A/N: Sorry this is late! I had a friend sleep over last night. Okay, so, still no "Difference," but I'm farther than I was last week! Maybe next week? But I have finals, so maybe not. Anyway, enjoy this while you're waiting.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Pride and Prejudice. That honor still belongs to Jane Austen.

Elizabeth hurried through the gathering darkness, knowing that she had to eat and get to bed soon so she could get up for her excursion the next day. As she walked up her family's driveway, she noted, along with the three family cars—her mother's van, her father's SUV, and the beat-up piece of junk her sisters used—there was an old red truck sitting in the driveway. She groaned inwardly, before sprinting the rest of the way to the front door. She could take whatever the man dished out, as long as he stayed away from her little sisters.

She opened the door to be met with anger, pain, and being ignored.

It was worth it if she could get what she needed.

***

Will Darcy was surprised to meet with Elizabeth Bennett at a bus stop at five-thirty in the morning, though her own surprise probably matched his.

"Elizabeth!" he said. "Hello!"

"Hello," she said softly, not even trying to smile. He noted that her hair was tied up in a ponytail on the crown of her head.

Will stopped his walk to look carefully at her. "What happened to your face?" he asked.

There was a large, seemingly fist-shaped bruise on her right cheek, with a cut at the center, as if the person who had hit had been wearing a ring.

"Got hit," was all she would say.

"Who hit you?" Will asked, before wondering why it concerned him so much. The young woman shook her head, unwilling to tell him. "Elizabeth, if this is a problem, you should do something about it."

She smiled wanly up at him. "I won't do that," she said.

"Why not?" Will asked, incredulous.

"I have to go through this. And, before you start, no, I don't think I'm worthless, I don't think I deserve this, it makes me as sick as it probably makes you, but I'll do anything for her," Elizabeth told him.

"For who?" Will asked, far too curious for his own good.

"My older sister, Jane," Elizabeth whispered.

Will was puzzled over that. "I was told you were the oldest."

When Elizabeth smiled, it was clear that she was sad and angry with the people who had told him that. "It's surprising how quickly someone who made that big of an impact on everyone's lives can be forgotten." Will was about to question her when she continued. "My sister Jane was probably one of the nicest people in the world. She would always have something good to say to everyone, and would be willing to help anyone, often roping me into helping as well, because I could never say no to her.

"All that changed the summer before my freshman year of high school. You see, Will, eight years ago, to the day actually, I was forced to watch, helpless, as my sister was murdered."

In that moment, Will knew what he had been seeing behind Elizabeth's smile. She was sad, so sad, even eight years after the death of her sister. Fate was cruel to have taken this beautiful girl's happiness from her, to have taken the life from a girl who did not deserve death in the slightest.

Elizabeth was still talking. She seemed unable to stop. "The man, dressed from head to foot in black, including a black ski mask, seemed to be drunk or high or something. The first thing he did was throw Jane to the ground. Before either of us could react, he had a knife out and in his hand, and had lunged at me. The blade cut from just below my ear—" and at this point her right hand touched the silver scar on her neck "—ran down my neck, across my shoulder, and split open my arm. After the first cut, he went back and made two more cuts, branching out from the first, so when they reached my wrist, there were three of them. I don't know why he did this, probably never will.

"After abandoning me, bleeding, on the sidewalk, he turned on Jane, who seemed frozen in place. It was so unceremonious and sudden, but it seemed to take ages at the same time. He stabbed her twice in her vitals before—before just leaving her there and running away.

"I was in so much pain I could barely move, let alone get Jane help. For months afterward, I blamed myself for not being able to help her, but I finally accepted that, even if I hadn't been hurt, I never would have been able to save her, except maybe by being the one who died instead."

At the end of her story, Will realized that, though he was dangerously close to tears, Elizabeth still seemed impassive, as if she had told this tale so many times it no longer hurt, but one look in her eyes showed that she still felt the pain of losing her sister so long ago.

"Jane was only sixteen," Elizabeth whispered, "and no one was ever convicted for it."

"I'm sorry," Will said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied.

After a moment of silence, Will asked, "So why are you here?"

"I'm going to Meryton," she said, "the town where we were attacked. I go every year, just to spend a day by myself, the way Jane and I used to go there on weekends when we had nothing else to do, just to hang around."

The bus pulled up to the stop then. "Bye, Will," Elizabeth said. "Thanks for listening."

Will didn't know what made him do it. Maybe it was that Elizabeth still looked so sad as she was climbing onto the bus, maybe it was that he was still curious about this wonderful Jane, maybe it was because he found himself liking Elizabeth, but whatever it was, he climbed onto the bus behind her, paid the same amount of money she did, and slipped into the seat next to her.

Elizabeth looked surprised, but Will just smiled and said, "I don't want you to do this alone."

After a short while of riding in companionable silence, Will glanced at Elizabeth again. "You never told me why you have to go through someone hitting you."

Elizabeth blushed. "You'd think it's stupid," she muttered.

"Can I make that decision for myself?" he asked with a small amount of humor.

Elizabeth's blush deepened. "The guy I'm dating, I think he's the one who attacked me and Jane." Will's jaw dropped, and he was about to say something when Elizabeth continued. "Like I said, no one's been convicted, but his height and build are the same as the guy who attacked us, and I just have a feeling that it's him. He started going after Lydia two summers ago when I was back from college, and I knew almost immediately, so I pretty much intercepted him. I won't let him at my little sisters."

Will felt his heart warmed by Elizabeth's love for her sisters, the fact that she would do anything to protect them. Instinctively, he reached down and squeezed her hand softly. She smiled slightly at him, and he realized that, if he wasn't careful, he could fall in love with this girl. He thought that maybe he didn't want to be careful.

As they stopped, Elizabeth glanced up. "Our stop's next," she said.

Less than a minute later, the two left the bus, their fingers twined together.