A/N: Ummmmmm, hi! Anybody remember me? Heh. Sorry this has taken so long. Life just got completely away from me. I'm so sorry. I hope this makes up for it.

Disclaimer: Despite the long wait, rights still don't belong to me. Monkeys!

Chapter 4: The Gift

The remainder of Lizzy's summer passed quickly in getting to know the neighbors, becoming closer friends with Will and Charlie, and her job. She stayed out of the house as much as possible, as usual, and was normally on her own, though on occasion she was joined by Jane, Charlie, and Will. After a few more arguments with her father, Lizzy took to texting her mother that she was home and climbing up to the porch roof and through her window to avoid him.

When school started, Lizzy let out a sigh of relief; she didn't have to invent reasons to be out of the house anymore.

On the first day of school, Lizzy was up in time to see Jane and Mary off to the early bus. She glanced out the door after her sisters and saw that Charlie was already there; Jane would be happy about that.

It was only as Lizzy finished breakfast that she realized that Will hadn't been at the stop and what that meant. He would be on the bus with her. Lizzy shrugged it off, deciding to deal with it when the time came. Will might be a nice person, but he never seemed to have gotten over his shyness, and he was still sort of backwards around her, and that was with Charlie around. Lizzy was close to giving up on the boy entirely.

Physics was easy; math was boring. History was fascinating, but history was always fascinating. Spanish was boring, too. When sixth period finally rolled around, Lizzy wandered her way into her study hall and sat herself down in a back corner, like usual. She organized her things and settled in to try and nap. It never worked very well, as she was always afraid to wake up screaming, but she tried.

She glanced casually up at the door, and gaped in surprised as Will walked in. He glanced around the room, his eyes alighting on her, and smiled. He looks really good when he's smiling, Lizzy thought. Will walked over to her and sat in the seat next to her.

"Hi, Lizzy," he said quietly.

"Hi, Will," she replied.

"Do you know if the teacher assigns seats in this class?" he asked.

"They don't usually in study halls, but sometimes," she answered.

The teacher came in, took attendance, told them to keep the volume down, and proceeded to ignore them.

Lizzy laid her head on her arms and hoped Will wouldn't be offended. She really did need the sleep, and, hopefully, it wouldn't be broken by nightmares she could never remember.

"Lizzy!"

"Go 'way. 'M sleepin'."

"Lizzy, wake up! We have to go to lunch!"

Lizzy blinked blearily, the soft, deep green eyes of Will Darcy looking down at her. She stumbled out of her seat and gathered her books.

"You're always sleeping," Will commented as they made their way to the cafeteria.

"I don't get much at night," Lizzy said stiffly. Will took the hint and dropped the subject.

They got a table together, and Will left to buy lunch as Lizzy started pulling hers out of its bag. Just as she finished and was starting to wonder where Will was, a voice interrupted her.

"Hello, gorgeous."

Will almost dropped his tray. What was he doing here? It was almost as if the other boy had followed him, just to torment him. And now it looked like he was flirting with Lizzy!

Will dropped onto the bench next to Lizzy. "He's not bothering you, is he?" Will asked, glaring at the grey-eyed, brown-haired boy who was smiling at Lizzy.

"Well," the boy said, "if it isn't William Darcy. Couldn't get enough of me back in England, eh?"

"Shut up, Wickham," Will replied, his glare darkening.

"Hey, I was here first," the other said, assuming an innocent expression.

"Not true," Will said, pointing at his books. "Lizzy and I were. Get lost, George."

He stood up, smiling at Lizzy. "If you ever get bored of this stuck up bloke, I'll be around," he said, and left.

"What the hell was that for?" Lizzy demanded.

"We knew each other back in England. I don't like him."

"That's no reason to be rude!"

"It is when it's him."

Lizzy didn't speak to him for the rest of the period.

She perched herself on the top of the slide, like usual, trying not to think of Will and what happened at lunch. It wasn't working.

"Lizzy?"

She groaned internally. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

"Lizzy, I know you're up there."

"Wonder how you could have guessed," she muttered, and turned to look at him. It was just him; no Charlie, no Jane. Who knew what those two were doing.

"Are you going to let me explain what happened at lunch?" he asked. "Or are you going to make a judgment based solely on what you saw?"

When he put it that way, it did seem like a stupid thing to do, but that didn't meant she was going to excuse his behavior immediately. He needed a good reason for behaving that way. "Fine," she said. "Explain."

Will sighed. "Can I come up?"

"Suit yourself."

Will scrambled up the ladder as he had done weeks ago, the day after he and the Bingleys had come over for dinner. He placed himself on the railing opposite Lizzy. "His name is George Wickham," Will began. "We grew up together; his father worked for mine, and we were friends when we were kids. As we got older, though, we started to grow apart. I was, well, shy, as you can obviously tell, and George didn't seem to get that; I had never been so backwards around him, because we had always known each other. He became something of a…" Will cast around for a word. "A Casanova. That's it!"

Lizzy laughed. "A Casanova?"

"Well, how would you word it?" Will demanded. "Other than the clichéd 'ladies' man'?"

"I have no idea," she said, but she was still laughing. "Maybe 'player'?"

Will smiled. "So he became a bit of a Casanova—" he glared at Lizzy "—when we were thirteen. I didn't really like it—"

"And so you cut all ties and started hating him?" Lizzy interrupted, not really believing it.

"No!" Will exploded. "He tried to rape my little sister!"

Will buried his face in his hands. Lizzy was staring at him, her mouth gaping open. He hadn't meant it to come out like that; give her a few more details, tell her a bit more what George was like now, then drop the bomb shell. Maybe then it wouldn't have been so shocking.

Oh, who was he kidding? Rape was always shocking, even attempted rape, no matter how much anyone tried to soften the blow.

He jumped as he felt warm arms circle around his waist. He hadn't heard Lizzy get off the slide and come over by him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Will hugged her back. He didn't say anything, because there really wasn't anything to say. "When?" Lizzy asked after a moment of silence.

"About a year ago," Will replied. "She was only thirteen."

"Kitty and Lydia's age," Lizzy whispered. He could tell that she was thinking about what she would do to anyone who even made known thoughts about doing such a thing to her little sisters. "Why is he still running loose, then?"

"There wasn't enough evidence to convict him," Will said dispassionately. Lizzy's arms tightened around him, and he buried his face in her shoulder.

A minute later, he pulled back. Lizzy dropped her arms from around him, and he found himself regretting the loss. "You really care about her, don't you?" Lizzy asked quietly. Will nodded. He had talked about Georgie with more animation than other subject. She was his favorite person in the world. Except maybe…no, it was too early to say.

He let Lizzy direct the conversation after that. They ended up discussing books; their favorite genres and authors, techniques that they loved and hated, and ended with Lizzy completely shredding Jane's (and Caroline Bingley's) favorite series. Will was content just to listen to his new confidant, and the girl he was rapidly falling in love with.

Later that night, Lizzy had draped herself across Jane's bed as the older girl sat at her desk, getting a jump on homework that was due the next week.

"Yes, I've met George Wickham," Jane was saying. "He's managed to make himself popular in the first day. Quite a feat."

"Will hates him," Lizzy said suddenly.

"Oh?" was Jane's only reply.

"And it's not unfounded. They knew each other before." And before Lizzy knew it, she had spilled the whole story to Jane; how she had met George, Will's reaction, and what George was capable of.

"Really?" Jane was wide-eyed by the end of the tale.

"There's no way Will could have faked that," Lizzy replied with a sigh. "Much as I hate to think badly of anyone I've just met, I don't think I could stomach talking to him again. Just…do you think that we should tell people? I mean, if they looked into it enough, they would find the trial records, of course, but not many people will."

"I don't think we should," Jane said slowly. "I mean, it's Will's business, so we shouldn't go spreading it to begin with, and maybe George is sorry for what he did. Maybe he wants to turn over a new leaf. Plenty of people come to America to do so." This last bit was added with a smile.

"If he was sorry he would have pled guilty," Lizzy muttered.

"What was that?" Jane asked.

"Nothing," Lizzy said aloud. "There was something else I wanted to tell you," she said a minute later. "Oh! That's right! Will's in my study hall."

"Is he now?" Jane asked, a small smile playing about her lips.

"Yes, he is," Lizzy said, mock-glaring at her sister. "He sat next to me."

"Were you in your corner?" Jane asked, trying not to laugh. She knew all about Lizzy's love of hiding in corners; they had been in the same study hall two years in a row.

"Yes, I was in my corner," Lizzy sighed, "but that's not the point. The point is, I fell asleep, and nothing happened."

"No…terrors?" Jane asked. "Nothing?"

"Nope. I slept like a baby."

"So, do you think it has anything to do with Will?" Jane pressed.

"I don't know. Maybe," Lizzy said doubtfully. "I've never slept soundly in school before, and when he was sitting next to me the other night… It's one too many times to be a coincidence, I think."

"Never ignore a coincidence," Jane said with a smile.

"Unless you're busy, in which case, always ignore a coincidence," Lizzy added, grinning.

She stepped through the closet, into her own room. She didn't want to go to bed, but she needed the sleep. Slipping under her covers, she tucked her hands behind her head, staring up at the ceiling.

There was a word her mind was searching for, a word that had started nudging at the edge of her brain when she had hugged Will earlier that afternoon, when he had told her about George. It was something important, she knew, it was something that Will made her feel, and she couldn't think of what it was. It annoyed her, but there really was nothing she could do about it. With her mind still searching for words, she dropped into a troubled and broken sleep, waking and forgetting what frightened her more than once that night.

A/N2:If you got my reference, you, sir (ma'am), get lots and lots and lots and lots of awesome points. ;)