A quick AU. Completely different from the show
On September third, 1904, a woman stood on the front steps of her neighbors house. This was nothing unusual, except for the fact that it was close to midnight and instead of a polite knock, she rapped violently on the wood. She was moaning and pacing, her stomach swollen with child and her auburn hair damp from the rain. She wore nothing but her dressing gown and husbands coat.
She waited and paced and knocked until the door flew open and the tenant took her in. She asked the woman no questions, just guided her to the bedroom and instructed her to push. "Get on your knees like you were praying and push that child out." She instructed. She pushed and yelled and twisted, feeling herself grow weaker, until a tiny gurgling cry was heard. She sighed and turned around taking the tiny girl in her arms. Her breath was shallow and she knew what was coming, so kept her gaze on her child. She made sure the tenant promised her something before she closed her eyes, and kept them so.
She was twenty four.
I woke up to a cold bed and no wife. There was no sun for the clouds hadn't quite rolled away. Fearing something was wrong, I quickly dressed and headed out. A million thoughts raced through my head, trying to figure out where she went and why. My first instinct was to check the church, until I remembered that there was no mass this early on a Tuesday. I knocked on doors asking the same questions and receiving the same answers. No one had seen her.
She was indipendant, always was. She must've gone for a stroll I told myself. She would be home soon. With that thought I walked through my door and started the usual routine of breakfast. Crack four eggs, cut two slices of bread, set out the jam. Just as I finished setting the table I heard a knock on the door. I ran for it, expecting to see my wife and her glowing smile. Upon opening it, I came face to face with a stranger.
"Mr. Murdoch? I'm afraid we need to talk." The woman said. She was a short thing, not much higher than myself. She had deep green eyes and golden hair. Her voice was tinted with a faint foreign accent. I invented her in wordlessly, motioning for her to sit which she politely denied. There was something in her sentence that made me fear something was wrong. I said silent prayers and cleared my throat.
"How may I be of service?" I asked, looking her head on. She told me about my wife, how she died giving birth to my daughter, how she was sorry for my lose and asked if I wished to see her. I didn't respond immediately. I paced first. Around the living room into the dinning room and towards the kitchen. I couldn't process what was happening. I could feel tears gather in my eyes, a lump form in my throat as I walked back towards the woman. She was sitting now, a basket at her feet and a baby in her arms.
"Do you want to see her?" She asked. I nodded and moved closer so she wouldn't have to move. I carried her gently, scared to break her. She looked so much like her mother. She had her hair and nose. She had big grey eyes that would surely turn a deep blue aswell. She was perfect. The tears collecting in my eyes spilled over and I could hear myself sob. The woman got up and rubbed my shoulders, helping me calm down.
After a minute or so I calmed down and thanked the lady. She gave me her name, a miss Julia Ogden, and decided to take her leave. Before she left she gave me one last thing. She said, "Your wife told me that she didn't want her daughter named after her. She made me promise her that". With those final words she left, her green skirt dragging softly on the sidewalk and the sun reflecting off her white cotton shirt. I closed the door softly and walked further into my house. I discarded the meal I had made and sat down on the couch. My daughters eyes bore into mine, so innocent and already so broken. Her little hand grasped my thumb. We had never discussed names. My wife said we would know when we see, but I was always partial to the name Mary. It was my mother's name, a saints name. I hope that the blessed mother will look down on my daughter. I prayed she would.
And so her name was Mary.