Author's Note: The fan fiction author, rese, challenged me. I was asked to write a 5 chapter story where someone dies (but it is not Beth or Amy), and Jo never properly meets Laurie at the Gardiner's party. If this chapter seems a bit like Chapter 16: Letters, I apologize. I am taking some things (ideas, words, etc.) from there because it has to do with my plot. I would ALSO just like to say that I am not very good with dialogue from this era, so please excuse my mistakes.

Important notice: I am very busy with school (I am taking another English course along with my regular class, as well as being a student-aide to a 9th grade English class which means I skip a History class of mine, plus I am on student council). I may update quickly or very slowly. I REALLY am sorry! But I am in 11th grade (for other countries, it's my second to last year of high school) and this is the year where grades matter for college. I am working really hard. I will try to update as fast as I can, but don't expect anything immediate.

Disclaimer: Little Women and Good Wives belong to Louisa May Alcott. I'm just changing plots around a bit, tweaking things. Also, if I use quotes, I shall most assuredly say where it is from.

"And Jo read aloud, in a frightened voice...

Mrs March:

Your husband is very ill. Come at once.

S. HALE

Blank Hospital, Washington."

-page 175, 'A Telegram', Little Women

Mr. March had become ill, and Marmee had gone to Washington. The girls stayed home with Hannah looking after them.

Beth visited the Hummels, per Marmee's request. Jo tried to be the "man" of the house to the best of her ability. Mostly though, she ran around the house, tried to keep down her temper whenever she was near Amy, wrote her plays, and had a jolly good time. But often, her mind wandered to her sickly father. While Jo played man, Meg played lady. She helped Hannah with the cooking, and tried to keep things in order. Amy tried to help as best she could with whatever was needed, but often she was shoo'ed away by her elder sisters.

The girls and Hannah wrote their mother letters daily.

My Dearest Mother,

We all miss you terribly. I, for one, knew taking care of the home was a hard task but I had not realized how hard it would be to run it! Our home is not the same without you. Your most recent letter brought all of us to tears. It had us laughing for a bit, until we were reminded that Father is quite ill. Beth has been quite the helper. She helps me cook dinner and often in the evening she plays us some piano. Jo cannot be bothered with such "tedious tasks", such as sweeping and making the beds, although she does try. I often remind her that you are not here to scold her and I ought not to but I am re-considering every second she complains. Amy is still a little dear, and presents us with funny pictures; of us playing or Jo in a hurry. Sometimes she even draws sketches of that elderly man next door (Mr. Laurence?) and the young dark-haired British fellow, the tutor of the (Mr. Laurence?) elderly man's son (or grandson? I am not sure). Hannah is doing very fine, and I am quite sure she has sent you a few letters of her own. I pray for Father every day. I pray to God to help him get well, and send the both of you home to us girls!

With all my love,

Meg

Marmee,

I miss you. Although I must admit, I have such fun times! Meg and Hannah (and sometimes Bethy, that angel-sister of mine) try to make me do household chores. Often I get out of it. But no worries, I try to help. I really do. It is just that I find such things trivial. I've been writing a bit. My latest is a love story between a dashing rogue, and a fair maiden. You'd enjoy it, and I suppose I could send you a few lines... No, I'll send you chapter by chapter (unless you and Father are coming home shortly?). The children, snow-maiden Amy and angel Beth, are dears. Meg runs the house like a true lady (and I suppose if she were to be married, she would do it well). I have been most curious about that boy next door. He is, obviously, of some relation to the elderly, wealthy man next door. But the question is, how? Is he the man's son? Nephew? Grandson? Please do write soon. Enclosed is the beginning of my latest project.

Love, your topsy turvy Jo

Dear Mother,

I wish you and Father were here and well. I have been visiting the Hummels often. The mother always seems happy to see me, as do the young children. I try to play the piano, but playing all the songs you taught me makes me cry, and long even more for you (and Father, of course, of course) to be home. I send my love. Kiss father's cheek for me.

Love,

Little Beth

Ma chere Mamma,

We are all well. I am trying to do my lessons but they are so teddyus. Jo says I mean 't-e-d-i-o-u-s'. Meg put in new patches because I was given Jo's distastful one; the red gingham. I have been drawing, mostly of us girls and that man across the way - the one in the large house. Late at night sometimes when I can't sleep I try some of you and Papa, well and all. Oh please let him be well! Give him two kisses for me.

Your darling,

Amy Curtis March

Dear Miss March

Things are goin jus as well as they can be. Miss Margaret helps, Jo is trouble as all ways. Beth is a deer, good an' kind to me. She helps out the most - though Miss Meg tries to shoo her 'way. Little Amy draws funny pictures which send all the girls in a tizzy. I must get back to work. There is much to do. I send my duty to Mister March.

Yours respectfully,

Hannah

Marmee and Father, all the way in Washington, D.C., were very glad to recieve those letters. The letters of their girls, and even Hannah, brightened their day greatly. War raged on. Although Father was in a hospital, with Marmee by his side every second, the town was shambles. Marmee tried to keep Father in best of spirits but it was hard. The nurses came in every day or so with terrible news of how the North was not winning many battles, and how they were not sure if the war would ever end. The only thing keeping Marmee and Father filled with hope (and small smiles) were the letters that came to them.