A/N : Sorry, but I'd almost given up on this story. Then a few story alerts made me feel better about it, so here it is. I promised I'd finish it an here it is. I hope you like it. R&R please! Criticism and Appreciation equally important and wanted. Love, Anya.
Three times turn and you're gone, and you're gone.
You are free, you are free
It's a long way home.
The note was shaking in his hand, the parchment wet and soggy. He didn't want to believe it, he wanted the words to melt away and die. But no matter how hard he stared at it, the letters remained fixed and the silence of the house berated him. Reminding him that it was his fault the piano didn't sing, his fault the stairs didn't creak under giggling shoes.
Battling his demons with the worst weapon available, he'd neglected his family. He'd pushed away dear, brave, annoying Georgie. And now-
He laughed with the pain of remembrance, and read the note again, the words jumping out at him and piercing him like arrows.
Wickham. Love. Marriage.
And then , after ages, something overcame Darcy. A steely determination , an almost tangible will power. He was going to bring Georgie back, whatever it took. He'd track them down and make that evil idiot pay.
With clenched fists, he silently let out a prayer for the first time in 4 years .
"Let me bring her back God, and I swear I won't let another smidgen of pain come to her. I'll be the brother I should've been to her these past few years, I'll be the man Mummy would've wanted me to be. But let me find her, God, let me find her. Please. I'll never ask you for anything else again."