*Trigger warning: canon compliant character death*

It was another of those nights where Lizzie was around before Will. It happened occasionally and so a silent communication had been created. Leaving a book at the end of the bed was all she needed to do so he'd know she was there and where to find her. It wasn't often that she got to roam the house alone. Being now 15 the two had long since given up silly games like hide and seek. Well mostly anyway. Despite her rare freedom she only had interest in one room tonight, the library. Her favourite room of the whole house

The heavy oak door swung silently just as the clock chimed 11. The air was crisp, a slight chill undercut the room. She knew she should feel awkward, should feel intrusive, but she couldn't help but feel as though she was coming home. Not with the whole house, but definitely with the library. She was never so content, even when awake, than when she was curled up on her chair by the fireplace. Drifting across the room on slippered feet she reached for a copy of Lyrical Ballads that she'd started on a previous visit. Comfortably ensconced in her chair, book perched upon her knee, she soon lost herself to the written word. A calm contentment washed over her as she gave herself to Mr Wordsworth and allowed time to trickle through her fingers.

A sudden crash of thunder startled Lizzie too, causing her to drop her book. A quick glance at the clock.

2:35

"That can't be right" she whispered to the still empty room. Will always came to her. She knew he was only imaginary, but he was consistent. Sometimes she felt he was the only reliable feature in her life. With a dramatic, marriage driven mother. A sarcastic, emotionally distant father. A younger sister who had, rather unfortunately, discovered Fordyces Sermons to Young Women and 2 further younger ones who were half wild. Lizzie had come to rely deeply on Wills stability. There was Jane of course. Dear Jane. But she often took the brunt of their matchmaking mama and so needed to lean heavily on Lizzie for her own emotional support.

2:50

The clock kept ticking. From above she heard the distinct sound of footsteps. The slight unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach when she'd first seen the time fast snowballed into unbearable dread. There could be no good reason for such a change of routine. Imaginary or not, she cared.

She felt him as he entered the room, in a moment of uncharacteristic cowardice she didn't look at him. He moved as a ghost, instead of taking the chair by her he stopped at the window. A common stance for him when he wished to think.

The cold silence fast became suffocating, but in shattering it they both knew that what was said could never be unsaid. And whatever was said would become real. Finally daring to look at him she found a broken man. He had his back to her, but she could tell. His shoulders were slumped, his breathing uneven. She felt the weight of her own cowardices like a rock tied about her waist.

"Will?" She rose and went to him. She could see him now, his face pale, and try as he might he couldn't contain the odd rouge tear spilling down his cheek. "Oh my goodness, come, sit!" She led him, as a mother might a child, back to her seat. He lowered himself without saying a word, she knelt before him gently holding his hands in hers.

"Will you need to tell me what's wrong. I know you might not want to yet" For the first time he looked at her, she gently squeezed his hand. "You might not want to yet, and that's alright. I'm going to stay right here" It was his turn now, but his squeeze wasn't gentle. He clung to her hand, as if she were his anchor. And there they sat. The sands of time tumbling past them. The only sound, the ticking clock, a constant, mocking reminder.

"Georgiana wouldn't sleep, I couldn't... couldn't leave her... not until she slept" Lizzie felt her heart break a little, in her mind she could only think of a few things that made sense in this scenario. And all of them were awful.

"He went out of Highflyer before I'd even risen. That wasn't unusual in the least. Father always says the best way for a man to start his day is by surveying his lands atop his favourite horse. I hate to admit such a thing but... I didn't even miss him at first. If I had maybe..." Will let out a shaky breath "What am I to do Lizzie? Georgiana is but 10 years old. Am I truly enough of a man to continue to raise her correctly?"

Lizzie was unable to contain herself further "Oh Will, tell me it isn't so! Not your dear father" She watched him, still on her knees at his feet, his look of anguish tore her heart in two.

"He'd fallen Lizzie. Fallen from the horse. If only I had noticed his absence sooner. It was lunch before I realised he was yet to be seen. If I had noticed sooner we might have gotten to him while...in time. It was a stable hand who found him. A boy, he returned for help immediately, but it was too late. The doctor came of course. He says it was the fall that did it, he had hit his head on a rock. An accident" The tears now fell full and freely for both. She couldn't help it, throwing propriety to the wind she stood and pulled Will into an encompassing hug. "He was so strong, how is it that an accident has taken him from us. The land, the tenants, Georgiana. How can I do all this?"

"Not alone. You are not alone Will. Your uncle, your cousin, Mrs Reynolds . They will all help you. And I'm here. Anything you need I am here. You are not alone my L..."

And in that instant she awoke. The sun poured in giving the room a warming glow. She fast welled up, her dream still fresh in her mind. Poor Will, only 22 and now with such overwhelming responsibility. A lesser man would crumble, but not her Will. He was stronger than that. His calmness, kindness and strength of character will pull him through. This thought lightened her heart some as she cast a glance at her sleeping bedfellow. She shared everything with Jane, everything except Will. She'd told no one of her nightly friend. He was hers and hers along. How she adored him, had grown to lo...

"Oh my!" she gasped aloud "I've fallen in love with a figment of my own imagination"

The next night, once again, Lizzie found herself alone in Wills bedroom. She was not in the least surprised. Tossing a book on the bed yet again she geared herself up for a long wait in the library. Entering the room she took a brief moment to dwell on her mornings revelation, but she soon cast it aside. Dream or real a friend is a friend. And her friend needed her right now. Not a simpering, swooning, lovestruck young lady. She needed to be his pillar of strength, the constant he'd been able to lean on over the years. That is what he needed now. Taking her book from yesterday from its place on the shelf she prepared to wait. Looking at the item in her hands she wondered if Will had returned to to its proper place or if the room simply reset itself each night. She'd never thought about that before, but each night everything was where it belonged, no matter the mess made the night before. She took up station on her chair just as she had yesterday. This time only half focusing on her book being sure to take note of any movement overhead. Originally she'd planned to stay in his room, wait for him there. But on closer reflection she decided it best to give him space. He may wish to collect himself or give himself time to rest before joining her. If he chose to join her at all. All she wanted was to help him however he needed. Lizzie knew she was up to the task, she'd done it before with his mother. So long ago, it felt like a different lifetime. Taking a cleansing breath she opened the book upon her knee and attempted to quiet her racing mind.

Time ticked on, the inviting book on her lap lay forgotten. Lizzie, unable to relax, sat straight and still. Ears straining for any slight sound, but all she could heard was that of her own breath. She half imagined she could she could hear her own trembling heart as it pounded, with growing anxiety, in her chest.

And finally she heard it. Yes. There it was again. Oh she was sure now. The unmistakable sound of someone descending the stairs. Closing the long neglected book she turned her full attention on the door. She could hear him. Out in the hallway, on the other side of the door, but he was yet to enter. It took every ounce of self control that she possessed to halt herself from calling out to him. She needed to give him space, to be the rock in the turbulent sea that was his life right now.

In time he opened the door and slowly, in exhausted steps, he came into the room. Still she waited. She waited for a sign, any sign of what he might need from her.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Georgiana was restless. I think I'm still there, by her bed" He sat unsteadily in his chair. Dark eyes looked at her full of the deepest grief.

"Never, never apologise for this Will. Your sister is the single most important person. I wish I could help with her, but this is only a dream. So how can I help you? You are here, now. Tell me what you need? Anything" He took in her appearance, seemingly drinking in her very being.

"I... I don't know" He whispered horsely "I'm in charge now. Responsible for my family and household. My tenants. And right now all I want to do is ask my father for help. I have no idea how I'm to do this alone"

"Your father taught you well. How many nights have I sat right here and watched you at your desk. You know how to manage the estate. You know how to have your household run smoothly. And as for your family, I mean really Will! Don't be so daft. You could never do anything but right by your sister" She couldn't help but reach over for his hand. An act he readily accepted. "It won't be easy. Life never is, especially for those like you who insist on carrying the weight of the world upon your shoulders" He wanted to argue, but he didn't have the energy to deny what he knew to be true. "You aren't alone, I've told you that. Please, Will, Please! Promise me you'll ask for help. Your uncle and cousin Richard. From what you've told me I'm sure they'll keen to offer aid. And Mrs Reynolds is with you. She will keep the household together just as she always has. Just allow her to do her job. Let them help you Will. I know you'll fight it, but let them!" He wasn't sure he could. It went against his very core, would his pride ever allow it? Her deep brown eyes, filled to the brim with concern, pleaded with him.

"I'll try Lizzie, for you I'll try"

His neck hurt and he felt ice cold. Stretching out his legs appeared, at first, to be a wonderful idea. However the intense, sharp, stabbing pain that soon shot through them quickly had him thinking differently. He was fast to muffle his cry, not wishing to wake the tiny mass of blond curls on the bed. Raising with deliberate slowness he gently stretched and tested each limb. The slight sounds from the house around him suggested early morning.

Checking his sister once again, gently stroking her soft curls from her tear stained cheeks, he made for the door. The large clock in the corridor told him it was a little after 5. He set off to find Mrs Reynolds as he knew she'd already be about her day.

"Mr Darcy sir. I..." The look of concerned shock the house keeper wore as they almost collided in the lower hallway troubled Fitzwilliam rather. He watched as she looked him up and down, her concern clearly growing. Taking a moment to look at himself in a newly polished mirror he saw her point. Still in his clothes from the day before, crumpled and dishevelled by his night spent in the chair beside his sisters bed.

"Oh. Yes. My! How I must look. I apologise for my appearance Mrs Reynolds. Georgiana isn't sleeping well. I decided to sit with her awhile last night before turning in myself. Only, I fell asleep. In my befuddled brain this morning I..." He was rambling.

"Its quite alright Master Fi... Mr Darcy" Her look had shifted from shock to a far gentler one. Fondness, pride and a hard to conceal sadness had taken hold.

"Yes, well. Thank you. I think it best I change and ready myself for the day. Could I trouble you to have Jenkins sent up to help dress" The older women nodded. "Thank you, again... Oh and my uncle and his family are arriving today. Could you ask the Earl to meet me in my fathers... my study? I have some questions regarding a tenancy matter, I thought I might ask his advice?" The last came out a question, indirectly seeking the housekeepers advice.

"Very good sir. I know his Lordship will be most happy to offer any help and advice you might need" Fitzwilliam simply nodded in thanks and turned back to the stairs hoping to return to his room unseen by anyone else. "And sir" She called out from behind "We will all be here sir. Just ask, anything you need, please, just ask. You're not alone in this sir"

"So I've been told" A slight smile graced his features. "I will ask, you have my word. I promised her I would" And before anything more could be said he made off for his room.

'See Lizzie I did it' he thought to himself. 'You asked and I did it. For you, my love, I did it' This last thought caught him up sharp.

"LOVE?" he cried aloud "Oh good heavens" he whispered horsely as a startled maid scuttled by.