A/N: thanks for joining me on this strange little adventure. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as  enjoyed going 'eh, it's fantasy, that's allowed'

They were reluctant, at the hospital, to let him out so soon. The doctors were as insistent as they could be that he should stay and have a barrage of yet more uncertain tests. But when he questioned them pointedly, they had to admit he was (almost freakishly) healthy or someone who'd been in a week-long coma and, technically, there was nothing stopping him from just getting on with things.

When Sam drove him back to the university, he tried to stay calm. He refused to ask Sam questions about the world. He figured he'd have to look dumb for a while as things started to make sense – that an open mind about the truth would put him at least halfway to where he needed to be, information-wise. Though he knew he'd at least need to pick up a history book sometime soon.

What he couldn't help noticing was the country roads they were travelling to get back – lined with heavy, old trees and flanked by rich, fertile countryside. He tried to think if he even knew the way to the hospital – if it had looked this way before – and had a feeling he'd been expecting a multi-lane freeway type of road. When they reached the city it was even more apparent. It was a small city famous for its history anyway, but Tav knew that there hadn't been this many old buildings and quaint side streets when he'd known it, in his old reality.

His room wasn't the same either, he thought, though that brief certainty – that they'd gone up a different stairwell the reach the rooms – was unsettled when the room they entered looked very similar, down to the cushioned window-seat. But larger, maybe. And the bed looked comfortable, not rickety like the old one. And his desk was a huge sturdy thing, not something he knocked together himself out of a flatpack.

But: the window seat. And there, on the floor, open where it apparently fell (when he collapsed? Or when he was hurtled into an alternative dimension?) was a copy of Pride and Prejudice. He bent to rescue it, tutting as he straightened the pages out.

"Will you rest?" Sam asked, fussing, but then their face lit up, and Tav turned to the still open door of his room to see what was making them so happy.

The woman was unmistakable, and Tav dare not glance down at the back of his now-closed book to see her name. Tall, with deep and dark hair cast in light curls around a regal head and a face that could only be described as handsome. Strong jaw, and mesmerising brown eyes – bright and clear and intelligent.

"You have to be Eliza," Tav said with a small smile, filled with warmth at how happy Sam looked.

"I am. And of course you are Octavius. I am quite ecstatic to see you so well after Sam's worry over these few days."

Tav wondered only for a moment if there was something strangely old-fashioned about her cadence. Only for as long as it took her eyes to flick to the book in his hand and her to give him an encouraging little nod.

He finally looked at the blurb. Read it. Made a weird noise of confusion in the back of his throat and read it again. But it was certain. There was no mention of Elizabeth Bennett. Or Mr Darcy. There wasn't even a mention – as Tav had half suspected – of Mr Darcy proposing to a man called Octavius. This was a story of a boy called George Wickham, who grew up poor but honest (somehow) and had his heart broken by a wealthy landowner, before he met his true love when he joined the army and they married and led their battalion to great victory. Or something. On a last attempt to make sense, Tav flicked until he found the landowner in the book, and discovered he was resolutely not called Darcy, as Tav had slightly feared.

He flicked to the introduction, read the first few lines, which identified the story as being one of the seminal Regency fictions to improve acceptance in society around gay and lesbian relationships, and one which opened the floodgates for much more acceptance since.

He had a pang – one of those that was becoming almost permanent, buried in his chest – thinking that for all the success of the challenge, Darcy, who he remembered so well, so vividly, had simply been written out of existence. But then he looked at Eliza, who had her arms crossed over her chest with an expectant look in her raised eyebrow.

"I need to go back to the hospital," he announced to Sam.

As they drove on surprisingly quiet roads – and Sam, to their credit, barely mentioned the fact that they'd only just done the journey – Tav tried to think it through, hoping logic would see him straight. But logic wasn't helping much right now. Eliza – he knew who she really was and it felt as though maybe she knew too – was clearly here, larger than life and rocking Sam's whole world. Sam found nothing strange in her appearance, and nothing strange about the other small but significant differences in reality that Tav could see clear as day but couldn't ask about. He supposed he was in as much risk of being sectioned here as he had been inside the story, maybe more so if the medical system was as much improved as it seemed to be.

When they arrived at the hospital Tav left Sam and Eliza to park, eager to test his somewhat wobbly theory. If he'd been sent back to his brand-new reality in a coma (seriously, he was still annoyed about that – surely Jane Austen of all people could have done better than that) then maybe Darcy would be too, if he wasn't in the story anymore. It crossed his mind he should have, subtly, ha, tried to find out if Eliza had recently woken from a coma too, but it was too late, he was already alone in the elevator to the fifth floor, where the ICU was. The only thing to do was check.

He wasn't ready for the security, having not even registered it on the way out, but luckily the nurse on duty recognised him and let him in with only a confused tilt to the head.

"I thought you had a clean bill of health? Are you feeling okay?"

Tav didn't know what to say to her. 'I need to check your other coma patients' didn't seem like a good option.

"I know this is strange," he hedged, "but a friend of mine might be here. Uh, he would have only been brought in last night, I think?"

"Oh," she checked her clipboard before glancing to another nurse with worried eyes.

"We didn't have any new patients last night," the other nurse said. "Maybe they went to a different hospital."

"You're sure?" Tav turned to him, the bright buzz of hopeful air sinking out of him even as he asked.

"No one on the charts. But the doctor who was on last night should be back in any minute. We can ask. Oh!" He turned with a smile. "There he is. Doctor Darcy, did any patients get admitted last night?"

Tav turned. He felt as though the remaining air was slammed out of him when he saw Darcy, right there, standing in front of him with the stern scowl Tav recognised so well, and absolutely no recognition on his own face.

"No new patients, no," he said to the nurse. "Hello Mr Kennerly. You don't know me, of course, but I've been overseeing your care for the week."

He smiled then. Small but blinding, and Tav felt the air returning to him.

"I was a little concerned to note you'd been discharged while I was off duty, but I'm glad to see you look extremely well."

The room dimmed, darkness covering the clear blue sky for a long moment. When it passed, Tav shook his head, wondering why he felt a little vacant, and he noticed Doctor Darcy and the nurses doing the same.

"Whoa," the first nurse said, "that was a crazy big cloud. The weather's been very odd lately."

The other nurse nodded in agreement, but Doctor Darcy didn't have eyes for anyone but Tav.

"I can take a break now." He carried on speaking over the nurse who Tav suspected was about to mention he'd only just come on duty, "Let's get a coffee and we can, um, be sure that you're fully recovered." He went pink, which gave Tav a weirdly warm feeling – almost like his embarrassment was sweet in some way.

They encountered Sam and Eliza on their way out of the ward. Eliza looked at Doctor Darcy for a long moment, but then she pursed her lips, as if confused, and looked away with a shrug. She was a little strange, Sam's girlfriend, but Tav was certain he'd like her. For some reason it made him wonder whether Doctor Darcy had any siblings. He didn't know why, but there was some certainty, deep in his chest, that he'd find out soon enough, when the time was right, and he let the positive feeling carry him as he walked by the doctor, close enough that their arms touched. 

A/N: and they definitely lived and loved happily ever after

and we don't mention medical ethics. Tav's been discharged, it's all good