Chapters: 22/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: Presumed Character Death, Violence Descriptions (In This Chapter) Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties), Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington, Benedict Bridgerton, Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton, Pretty Much Everyone (at points) Additional Tags: Bridgerton, Polin Summary: Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".
It was a simple affair that lacked the formality and solemnity that such a wedding might have had should it have been performed back home in London. Country weddings, especially elopements weren’t exactly known for their stark adherence to the religious doctrines. The fact of the matter was that the men who performed such rites were hardly true clergy.
Penelope could hardly believe that this had become her life and that she was indeed marrying Colin. After everything they’d been through, he had deemed her worthy to be his bride and the sentiment wasn’t lost on her. She couldn’t but look back seeking the safety and approval of Anthony and Benedict as she uttered her vows though.
Hearing Colin say the words and knowing that he meant them had been everything that she’d ever wanted before he’d gone missing and when he’d come back she’d been so caught up that she’d failed to really take notice of the fact she wasn’t quite the same infatuated girl she’d been before. She had changed as a person. She could hardly ignore the loudness of her thoughts against the quiet of his words and her own.
She certainly didn’t intend to regret this though, even if the whole thing felt a bit like an out of body experience. She wasn’t unhappy but she had imagined that she would feel more joy flittering through her veins, excitement at spending the rest of her life with the man she’d deemed as her soul mate. She felt something deep inside that she couldn’t quite explain though and she wasn’t quite willing to investigate.
To be perfectly honest she was terrified of what she might find if she did explore it. She loved Colin. She always had. God knew that she always would but a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she hadn’t made the right choice. Maybe they should have taken it slower, maybe they both needed more time to grow before they had their happy ever after if it was meant for them. It didn’t make sense to her when it felt so right though. She’d been so sure moment ago.
The smile she’d plastered on her face through the aftermath of the ceremony felt like a cover for the sheer and utter panic she was trying to keep down. There was something she felt deep down inside that she couldn’t quite explain, some feeling like something had to go wrong. She’d felt like that most of her life whenever something was going right. It didn’t normally take hold of her quite so strongly. She could feel it wrapping around her life a vice.
They were all to walk together to the local inn to eat and celebrate the occasion. Her arm was held steadfast by Colin and she was trying desperately not to have him catch on to the fact she was a bit shaky.
“It’s not like you to be so quiet,” Colin finally told her after a moment. His eyes gazed over her appraisingly from the side, his grip on her all the tighter. His normal smile was still there, never ceasing but there was concern etched in the depths of his eyes.
“I was just thinking,” Penelope told him though she didn’t choose to expand upon it. She nodded sympathetically, patting a hand on his arm to provide some sort of reassurance that she was okay but she wasn’t sure if it was believable or not. “Perhaps, I’m just a bit hungry.”
“Well… we’re going to fix that,” he insisted. Whatever skepticism he had over her words didn’t seem to last as he went back to smiling, holding conversation with Anthony as they walked. The words sort of managed to blur together until they’d found their way to their destination.
--
There had been food and dancing. It was definitely not the kind of thing that would have gone over as a social event in London but it was comfortable and homey. Penelope did feel full and the dancing did happen to calm her nerves and as the sky began to transition from day to twilight, she felt sure that maybe she’d simply let her mind get the best of her.
When Colin excused himself to go ensure that they had a proper to sleep on their wedding night, she’d let herself be left amongst the mix of stranger and Bridgertons. Anthony had certainly had allowed himself to partake of the libations to the point where he was a bit sloppy. She couldn’t help but feel a bit like she was intruding on a bachelor’s night with the way he was carrying on with a random woman.
Benedict for his part was keeping a respectful distance though every so often she would feel his eye on her and know he was more concerned with her safety than finding someone to spend the evening with. She was grateful for it honestly.
“You can actually converse with me, you know?” she told him, decisively moving so that she could sit across from him at a table. “You don’t have to go back to ignoring me.”
The fact he couldn’t quite meet her eye told her that it might have actually been his plan. He forced his gaze up after a minute though.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” he lied.
She knew he was lying and she fully intended to call him out on it. She would have if she didn’t hear a crack of the door that pulled both of their focuses away.
A tall, broad shouldered man came barreling into the room. There was something about the presence of him that commanded everyone’s attention.
“Clara?” he bellowed.
The woman that Anthony had been carrying on with pulled away from Anthony and seemed to practically disappear into the wood of the floors. She paled and it became quite clear who Clara was.
The man’s next actions were to move toward her and raise his fist to strike. Anthony, for his part, attempted to stop it. His drinking had made him unsteady and he took the punch himself. Like any man of honor, he decided it appropriate to strike back.
Goosebumps formed on Penelope’s skin as she watched in absolute horror at what was taking place, the world slipping away. Before she could try and stop Benedict, he was up moving to try and get the giant away from his brother.
Anthony was most definitely losing. It wasn’t an even or fair fight by any stretch and he was going to be bloodied and bruised come the next day. Benedict simply wanted to stop it from being worse than all of that.
What she didn’t realize was the man was reaching for a knife and neither did Benedict until he was in the process of trying to get in the middle of them. The whole thing happened so abruptly that there was little she could do to stop the blood curling screams that escaped her as Benedict’s eyes widened and he crumpled to the floor.
The man clearly realized his mistake as soon as it happened, taking off running just as he’d came leaving a bloody mess in his wake. The woman who’d caused it all taking one look at everything before following after.
Penelope didn’t think, didn’t breath as she moved to try and see the extent of the damage. Anthony was trying his best to get up and be helpful but he was in no condition to go get a doctor when he needed one himself.
His voice broke as she demanded someone go find a doctor before crumpling to her own knees, accessing the wound. She ripped the fabric from her dress, trying to use it to compress the bleeding at his abdomen as if it might be enough to hold him until a physician could arrive.
“Hold on,” she demanded.
Benedict was still awake. His eyes were open and he was breathing. Those were all things to be hopeful for. He opened his mouth to speak a few times but the words seemed to be a struggle for him, the fact he wasn’t speaking only alarmed her all the more.
His hand moved to rest on top of her own, becoming increasingly caked in his blood. He didn’t have to utter the words for her to know what he was trying to say. She knew that he wasn’t going to make it but it wasn’t something that she could stand for. She wasn’t sure if she could live with herself if that was the outcome of this.
“Please don’t,” she begged.
Word had apparently gotten back to Colin about there being a problem. She didn’t hear his footsteps but she did know when she heard his horrified voice and saw him there kneeling beside her.
There was so much blood, it wasn’t completely clear who was hurt now.
“Are you hurt?” Colin asked her.
“No, Ben – he was trying to protect Anthony,” she couldn’t even finish the words. Colin tried to take over her task of holding the wound, trying to order her away with his hands.
“I have this,” he tried to tell her.
She didn’t move.
“I’m not leaving him,” she uttered. She was near hysterical anyways. She couldn’t unseen what she’d seen. She’d never be able to get the imagery out of her head.
“Pen, you shouldn’t have to - I’ll stay with him,” Colin insisted, trying to keep a calm exterior but he was far from it. The little cracks in the normally calm exterior were on full-display.
“No,” Benedict uttered, giving Colin a look that made him relent and completely give up on any ideas he might have had about sending Penelope away from the carnage. The damage was already done.
--
By the time they’d actually managed to get a physician there, Benedict was already beginning to fade. He was going in and out of consciousness. Every time that he went there, it began to feel as though he might not come back.
Anthony had begun to sober up thanks to water and the horror around him. If it was possible, he looked worse than Benedict. The guilt was clear on his face. He blamed himself for the whole damn thing.
“Not your fault,” Benedict had told him a few moments of alertness. “I’ve always had your back in a fight.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Anthony told him solidly as the physician attempted to examine the wound. The grim look on his face made it clear that Benedict wasn’t going to be okay.
“The wound penetrated the spleen,” the physician informed them, cleaning the wound with liquor which caused Benedict to writhe in pain. He was paler than usually the shirt that he’d been wearing long discarded to be used to help try and stop the bleeding.
Penelope had read enough books that she knew that the odds weren’t in favor of anything being able to be done here except provide comfort, drown out the suffering until the brutal end. There was a choice to be made here. They could either selfishly keep him alert or allow the physician to allow him to sleep until the end.
One look at his face and she knew the path he wanted.
“We need to get him to a bed,” she uttered. Colin and Anthony could get it done, especially with a little assistance. Benedict deserved a little dignity and not the floor of this place.
There was no argument from the two of them either, especially as they moved to help with Anthony taking the feet and Colin taking the torso. There was a room with a bed not far off from there so they made their way, physician in tow.
When they managed to get him there, she moved to help remove his boots and socks. She was trembling but there was a mission to be had here. She’d spent most of the last year grieving in one way or another and she would spend more of it doing the same but for now she needed to keep it together.
“Help him with the rest of his clothes,” she ordered to her new husband, turning away to provide him a little modesty.
Colin did precisely as instructed, Anthony fetching extra blankets to keep their brother warm. They were far too shell-shocked to offer much argument over what they should be doing.
When she turned around, the physician was mixing some ingredients in a mortar and then pouring it into a drink.
Benedict’s eyes were closed but the shift in the sound of her dress, made him open them again. He nodded through the pain, offering her a silent thank you for taking control of this.
“I want you all to leave me,” he said resolutely after a long moment. It was the strongest his voice had been since this whole nightmare had began. “He will let you know when it’s over.”
“I will not,” Penelope said firmly.
“We will not,” Colin chimed in.
“You will. You can’t deny a man’s last request,” he said trying to offer a weak smile. The wince made it clear it was a struggle for him. “Take her away from this.”
Colin and Anthony exchanged looks. As men, they had no choice but to honor the request.
Penelope wasn’t going to go as easily.
“Your last request is denied,” she told him firmly.
“I’m going to miss that fire,” he murmured after the doctor gave him the concoction. It was already starting to make him feel drowsy. Whatever words he had left would be slurred. His gaze moved between his brothers and then Penelope again. “I’ve loved you all. Take care of each other and… the others. Go.”
Bridgeton men were not above overly sentimental moments but Anthony touched a hand to his shoulder and nodded as if to silently say he loved him too. He then turned heel and left, following direction.
Colin followed suit, attempting to grab Penelope by hand at first but when she refused, he picked her up and outright carried her while she kicked and screamed to be allowed back down. He didn’t put her down until they were all outside to where they could get fresh air.
While the men handled this with stoicism, she absolutely fell apart. She crumbled into Colin’s arms, crying and screaming until her voice was gone. She had known something bad was going to happen and now it had.
