Like many, I've been wanting to write a Little Women fic FOREVER! While I have come to appreciate Friedrich Bhaer, and even like that he ended up with Jo, I don't like Laurie and Amy together. At. All. There's still, and always will be, a part of me that wishes Laurie and Jo would've ended up together. I could easily see this happening, and I hope you can too. Although technically it's AU, I tried to keep it as close to the story and original characters as possible. Enjoy! And remember, all of these amazing characters belong to Louisa May Alcott. I'm just borrowing.

Dearest Jo,
It is with a heavy heart that I write you this letter. I know Marmee wrote you of Beth's illness. Have no fear, she is well on her way to making a full recovery. You should see her, Jo! Roses bloom in her cheeks again and her eyes shine as I've not seen in years. We are forever indebted to our sweet Laurie. You see, I am with child, Jo. In my condition, I could not help Marmee care for Beth. Amy, as you know, is in Europe with Aunt March and was, of course, unable to return home. Laurie, being as fond of Beth as he is, took it upon himself to tend to her. Nearly everyday, he was at Orchard House, entertaining our sister and keeping her spirits up. Oh, Jo! We didn't know. He never mentioned he hadn't had scarlet fever as a child. I'm afraid he's quite ill. I'm so sorry, Jo. Mr. Laurence has hired a nurse and had Dr. Bangs out numerous times, but I'm afraid there's nothing left to be done. I am sorry to not have written you sooner, but Laurie wouldn't hear of it. I do hope he'll forgive me. I could not keep such news from you a moment longer. Come home to us, Jo. He needs you now more than ever.
Your devoted sister,
Meg

Jo March made her way up the path to her beloved Orchard House. She smiled when she saw the welcoming place. Despite the circumstances, it was good to be home.

"Meg!" she called to the woman who was busying herself in the garden.

Her older sister stood and turned toward her, giving Jo a good look at her rounded middle. A smile broke over Meg's pretty face. "Jo!"

The sisters embraced, Jo clutching Meg's hands, looking fondly at her expectant figure. "How wonderful," she sighed happily. "Oh, I am so happy for you." Then, as if all at once recalling the reason for her visit, her smile faded. "How is he?"

Meg's eyes grew soft. "You will find him much altered, I'm afraid. Come, say hello to everyone and rest a bit, then you may go and see him for yourself."

"No," Jo said as they entered the house. "I'll say hello to everyone, of course, but I could not rest now, Meg. I must go to him at once."

"Yes, of course," Meg nodded in understanding. "When you do, be sure to give him our love. We are indebted to him."

"I'll be sure to, but he wouldn't have us thinking that way. Theodore Laurence has never done a thing in his life he hasn't wanted to do."

"You're right," the married March sister agreed. "Have you spoken to him since..."

"No," Jo was quick to say.

"Well you've both had time apart to think things over rationally since then. I'm sure he's ready to put it behind him, as you have done, and begin your friendship anew."

Less than an hour later, Jo entered the library where she found Mr. Laurence behind his desk with his head in his hands. Christopher Columbus, he looked as though he'd aged ten years since she'd seen him last. She cleared her throat, and he looked up at her, a smiled that didn't quite reach his eyes falling on his lips. He was happy to see her though, that much was plain. "Josephine."

"Hello, Mr. Laurence," she smiled fondly, as the older gentleman stood and came around to wrap her in a warm embrace.

"Welcome home, girl."

"Thank you," she said, then a bit nervously, "I was wondering... that is, might I..."

Mr. Laurence just smiled knowingly. "Come with me."

Jo followed Mr. Laurence up the stairs to Laurie's bedchamber, her heart pounding, so unsure of what she'd find on the other side of that door. Did Laurie still bear her ill will, or would he be happy to see her? Would he appear as Beth had when she contracted the awful disease, or would it be worse? She shuddered at the thought.
When she stepped into the room, and laid eyes on the figure before her, her heart gave a painful lurch. "Oh, Teddy," she sighed, sinking to her knees beside his bed. He was so pale, so thin. Nothing like the dear boy she'd left behind.

Mr. Laurence escorted the nurse out to give Jo some time alone with his grandson. Jo, for her part, scarcely noticed. She was far too focused on her boy. She reached out to brush the dark, sweat damped curls away from his face, when his fever bright eyes fluttered open. "Jo?" he managed to whisper, wincing at the fire that burned his throat when he did so.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, Teddy."

But it was as if he didn't even hear her. He simply continued to stare up at her beautiful face, confusion wrinkling his brow. "You're truly here?" he asked hesitantly. "I dreamed it so many times, but..."

"Hush now," Jo soothed, taking his warm hand in both hers. "I'm here, but you must get your rest. There will be plenty of time to chat and quarrel later. Now you must sleep."

Laurie shook his head as much as he was able. "You'll be gone when I wake. You always are."

Hot tears pricked Jo's eyes as she brought his fingers to her lips, there placing a gentle kiss. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you wake up, I swear it on pain of death."

Laurie's eyes were already drifting closed. The words floated off his lips as he slipped into unconsciousness. "Stay, Jo. Please stay."

Jo sighed as Laurie's breathing evened out, exhaustion taking it's toll on his weakened form. She was heartbroken that he thought she would leave, now especially when he needed her most. Although, she supposed she could not blame him, for that's exactly what she had done. Run away and left him broken and bleeding. But, dear boy, he'd cared for her family in her absence. That was frighteningly apparent as she watched him sleep, face flushed with fever and chapped lips parted slightly. Though his upper body had been propped up with pillows, his breaths were shallow and strained, a terrible wheezing sound accompanying each rise and fall of his chest. Sweet Teddy, foolish boy, what were you thinking?

Jo had returned to Concord the very day she'd received Meg's letter proclaiming Laurie's illness. Everyone had told her there was nothing left to be done. Jo refused to believe that. She would not give up on her boy so easily. "We'll get you well yet, Laurie," she said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. "Just you wait and see."

The nurse opened the door to the younger Laurence's room, ready to resume her duties, but stopped short when she saw her charge sleeping soundly for the first time in days, the March girl tenderly dabbing at his face and neck with a cool cloth. When he began to moan in his sleep, moving his head restlessly on the pillow, the young woman gently touched his cheek, muttering soothing words until he quieted. The nurse watched her place a kiss to his forehead before once again taking up the cloth and continuing her ministrations. With a small smile, she closed the door, going in search of Mr. Laurence. Her services were no longer needed. Something told her Theodore Laurence could be in no better hands than the March girl.

It was nearing dusk when Laurie next awoke. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that there was a weight on his right arm. That's when he saw her. Jo had fallen asleep, his hand still clutched in her own, her head resting on his arm. With his left hand, ever so slowly, he reached out to stroke her hair, smiling as her thick, near waist-length, chestnut curls slid through his fingers. She awoke with a start. "Jumpin' Jehosephat!" she gasped, then looked down at Laurie, a bemused grin on his parched lips. "Oh, Laurie," she smiled back at him. "You're awake! How do you feel?"

"Thirsty," he croaked. "Would you mind..."

"Oh no, of course not," she obliged, pouring him a glass of water and helping him sit up to drink.

"Thank you," he whispered, lying back against the pillows once again. "It wasn't a dream then. You are here."

"Silly boy, where else would I be?"

"New York," Laurie coughed, "with that horrid old professor you're always writing Beth about."

Jo's temper flashed and her cheeks burned. "Friedrich is neither horrid nor old! He is a dear friend who happens to be staying at the same boarding house, and I'll have you know..."

Laurie's sudden coughing fit interrupted her and cooled her fire. "Oh, Laurie, I'm sorry," she apologized quickly.

Somewhere during the fit, his hand found hers and she held it tight. "I've missed you, Jo," he sighed when he could breathe again.

"Me?" she laughed, though there was none of the carefree joy in it that Laurie had once so loved. "Why should you miss me? I say all the wrong things, I'm terribly awkward, and I can't keep my temper."

He swallowed thickly, his voice once again hardly above a whisper. "All those things. That's why I missed you."

"Shall I read to you?" Jo asked, hopping up from her chair and going quickly to the bookcase so he would not see the tears in her eyes.

"I'd rather hear one of your stories than any of that trash, Jo."

"Trash!" she cried, stashing away the last of her tears. She could not cry now. Not in front of Teddy. She had to be strong for him. "Theodore Laurence, these are the classics!" She turned back to him, ready to scold, but her breath caught in her throat. The way he was looking at her made her heart skip a beat. She could not refuse him such a simple request. "Alright," she softened with a smile, "a Josephine March original story."

Glancing quickly about the room, she picked up his top hat and placed it upon her head before resuming her place beside him. She knew exactly the story to tell him. "Once there was a boy, a very lonely boy, who was held captive by his no-nonsense grandfather and his dull-as-tombs professor," she began, using a grand voice, and Laurie could not help but chuckle. "He lived next door to four little women, who, though poor, were rich in love and spirit. He quickly became friends with the second eldest sister, a too-tall, awkward, and out-spoken girl, who stumbled upon his hiding place one night at a dance. They were kindred spirits, indeed. Soon he was admitted by her sisters into their secret society, and took his place as Roderigo. Sir Roderigo..."

A small cry escaped Laurie's lips as he was taken by a fierce chill quite suddenly, his body shivering violently as ice raced down his back. His breath came in quick pants as he fought to control the shaking. Jo moved swiftly to place another quilt on top of him, tucking it up around his chin. "Hush Laurie," she whispered, stroking his hair, "it's alright. Everything's alright."

He didn't think he'd ever get warm, but finally the chill subsided, leaving him exhausted and paler than before. "Jo..."

"I'm still here," she reassured him, placing a cool hand against his burning forehead. His fever had risen. Laurie coughed as she moved to sit on the edge of his bed, lifting the blankets and placing his feet in her lap. They were frozen, just as she'd expected.

"Jo, what-" he began to ask, but Jo didn't let him finish.

"We need to draw the fever down from your head," she answered, remembering Marmee doing the same for Beth years ago. She began to rub his feet vigorously, working halfway up his calf, massaging the muscles to encourage blood flow.

He tried to protest. "You don't have to."

"Like it or not, you're under my care now, dear boy," she told him, a small smile alighting her lips. "You must do as I say."

Laurie smirked. "Yes, Miss March."

Another shiver wracked his frame and he bit back a groan. Lord, how his body ached! Every muscle seemed to be tied into a dozen knots. There was a pounding in his head that was steadily growing more persistent and a mounting pressure just behind his eyes. He allowed them to slip closed, trying to focus solely on Jo's gentle touch, trying to commit everything to memory. After all, he had not expected her to come. In fact, he had specifically told everyone not to inform her of his illness. He hadn't wanted to interrupt her time in New York. She was working as a governess after all, and was an aspiring authoress. She shouldn't be bothered. If he were completely honest though, he hadn't wanted to see her, and expected she felt the same. She had been the one to leave, hadn't she? He poured his heart out to her, and she turned tail and fled without another word. Laurie didn't want to feel all that he'd spent so long carefully tucking away, determined to forget about his love for her. Unfortunately, that had not worked out so very well. The moment he'd opened his eyes to her beautiful, familiar face, it all came rushing back. He was still just as in love with Jo March as he'd always been. "A year," he said suddenly, catching Jo off guard.

"What?" she asked, covering his feet up once again and moving back to her chair.

"That's how long it's been since I've heard from you," he said, his throat sore and his voice gruff. Jo made to move to bring him a glass of water but he shook his head and she remained seated. He turned his head away from her and coughed. Painful though it may be to open wounds they both thought had healed, it had to be done. So Laurie pressed on. "You left without a word, Jo. I know we quarreled. My behavior was inexcusable, I see that now. I regretted my actions almost immediately, you must know that. It was only when I arrived at Orchard House to apologize and have it out, as we had always done after an argument, that Hannah told me you'd left for New York. Left without a word, without a note, without so much as a wave goodbye. Why, Jo?"

Jo was suddenly very interested in her dress.

Laurie frowned. "I think I deserve some sort of an answer, Jo. After all we've been through, you at least owe me that."

"I know it," she muttered, rising from the chair and beginning to pace the room. "But... Christopher Columbus, Teddy! What did you expect me to say?"

"It wouldn't have mattered. Anything would have been better than nothing!" He coughed harshly, his throat raw and aching after so much use. He'd scarce uttered a word in the past week, and now he was near to shouting.

Jo's heart sank. She had rather hoped they wouldn't have to discuss this. That everything could just continue on as if nothing had ever happened. Apparently, that was not to be. "I just didn't want-" she began, but cut herself off, pinching her lips closed.

Laurie's voice was rough, "Didn't want what?"

"I didn't want to hurt you more than I already had," she sighed heavily, sinking back down onto her chair, suddenly exhausted. "You're my dearest friend, you know that, and I thought some time apart might be good for us. I had hoped that when we met again, we would have put all that nonsense behind us and could continue on being friends as we always had been."

"Jo," he sighed, a familiar look in his dark, bewitching eyes.

Her reaction, however, was not familiar. Rather than feel her heart clench with panic as it had before, it melted beneath such a warm and affectionate gaze. And it frightened her. "No, Laurie please don't," she begged him. "Teddy, please..."

"You h-have to kn-know," he said, pausing as another chill came over him. He took her hand, holding it tight. A few minutes passed in agonizing silence before he trusted his voice to speak again. "You h-have to know things can never be as they were, Jo. Not for me. Now," he continued, taking a deep breath, "I'm not such a fool as to ask a question I know the answer to, but, my dear Jo, I love you. I always will."

Tears were threatening to fall faster than she could stop them. "You think that, but you won't! You deserve better! There's a woman somewhere, far more elegant and refined than boyish old me, and she'll happily stand by your side, and cater to your every whim, and dress in the finest Parisian gowns..." Jo rambled on, already burning with jealousy for the woman she'd conjured up in her mind, though she most certainly did not want to dwell on that at the moment.

She was nearly crying. It was a rare sight, but Lord, he hated it when she cried! "Jo," he said softly, catching her attention and cutting off her rant. His eyes never left hers when he vowed, "There is no one else in the world for me. I love you, and you alone. And whether you return my affections or not, that will never change."

A trembling sigh escaped Jo's lips as she stood, letting his hand slip from her grasp. "Please don't say such things, Teddy. You should rest," she told him, wiping the tears from her eyes. She didn't want to discuss the matter a moment longer. Her mind was racing, unable to comprehend all the thoughts and emotions he had awakened within her. All of a sudden, his room seemed unbearably small. "I'll go fetch you some tea. Perhaps some broth, alright? You rest."

She was just about to the door when Laurie called out rather desperately, "Don't. Don't leave again, Jo. I can't bear it."

Her heart ached when she looked back at him, so broken and vulnerable. "No, dear boy, no," she reassured him, returning to his side. She smoothed his sweat dampened curls back from his forehead, there gently placing a kiss. "I'm simply going to get some tea to sooth your poor throat, and some nice warm broth to keep up your strength. Rest, Teddy. I promise, I will be here when you wake."

Laurie nodded, closing his eyes, and she pressed her lips again to his too warm brow, mentally noting his temperature. It was far too high.

She entered the study, intent on telling Mr. Laurence she was going to Orchard House for a moment to ask Marmee's advice, when she saw her brother-in-law sitting with the older man. "John!" she exclaimed, her spirits lifting. After all, she'd not seen him since she left for New York. He caught her up in a quick embrace. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I've come to inquire about young Mr. Laurence. Your sister is quite concerned. How is he, Jo?"

"I'm afraid his fever has risen," she told both men truthfully. "That's what I came to tell you, Mr. Laurence. I wanted to ask Marmee what she thought best, as she's seen Beth through this illness before, so I'll be needing to step out for a moment or two. Laurie is sleeping, and I promised to be back when he wakes."

"Of course, dear," the old man nodded. "Thank you, for taking such good care of him. You're just what he needed, I think."

Jo wasn't so sure about that, after the conversation she and Laurie just had, but she nodded respectfully, saying her goodbyes, and hastily making her way out the door.