Painting Losses

A/N: you guys are seriously the best. And you're doing wonders for my self esteem. Who could ask for more?

…

Oh why didn't she say 'yes' when she had the chance!? Jo was hiding in the orchard at Plumfield, feeling like she'd lied to herself by choosing the paths she took. Her hands fell into the dirt and Jo looked up despairingly at the blue sky. Why couldn't it rain when all was wrong with her world?

Jo felt the irony keenly, and not just with the present weather. She had to learn how to love another to love Laurie. It certainly wasn't fair for either of them and now two more people would suffer because of her stupid incapability to see what was before her eyes. Jo threw her gloomy head in her dirty hands, the shower of brown falling from them somehow consoling.

She couldn't let Fritz touch her lying form anymore. She couldn't smile at him the way he wanted. But Laurie, oh Laurie! He wouldn't stay away and she knew the others would notice, especially when he kept taking her wretched hand and winking conspiratorially at her.

Jo hit her head against the tree she leaned against. Over and over. Maybe it would be best if it was over; if she told Fritz the truth and maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he would understand and leave her, heartbroken surely but happier in the end and free to find someone who would love him. Maybe.

But Laurie had Amy, despite his refusal to speak of her to Jo. Amy loved her sister and she wanted what was best, but that would mean – Laurie! Jo was crying now, the impossible solutions to her predicament seeming less and less likely to occur.

She was stuck.

…

Amy sat in garden, her paints and canvas lay in their appropriate positions before her. But as she looked at the beauty around her, Amy couldn't bring herself to left the brush and begin to copy.

Laurie had stopped holding her. He didn't kiss her or touch her voluntarily at all. And he only smiled distractedly in her direction when the situation called for it.

Amy looked over to the path, her husband strolling, hands in pocket, looking ready to leave. And maybe he was. She was no fool and hated to be thought one, Laurie wasn't just distracted he was totally lost and Amy prayed it wasn't her fault. Tossing her golden curls over her shoulder Amy considered herself in his eyes, or what she perceived them to be. Maybe she'd grow dull and boring with her pregnancy? She looked down at the bulging sphere that replaced her tiny waist, Laurie was a proud man when he needed to be but she didn't consider him to be so fickle that he would shun his wife if her looks were temporarily lacking.

She sighed heavily and leant back into the chair. She was losing him, and to what and why she did not know.

…

Laurie watched his wife in the parlour as she sorted through her artwork. What she was looking for was beyond him but she'd asked him to wait for her so he obliged, using the doorway to support his tall frame.

"Ah! Here it is," proudly Amy held a small drawing book up. He smiled patiently for a moment before she continued, "it's a sketchbook from my stay in Nice." Laurie's eyebrows rose in curiosity but Amy noted how his eyes remained blank. So he did not care!

She shook her head and moved slowly over to a table, thanking Laurie when he held the chair out for her. At least he was attentive, she sighed and he guessed it was due to her memories of the book.

Amy opened it to the appropriate page and waited to hear the sharp intake of breath from her husband. It was the picture she'd drawn of him, 'Lazy Laurence' and Laurie for the life of him, couldn't look away. It was startling to see the past so vividly and painfully, but he couldn't help but draw the conclusions Amy secretly had. He hadn't really changed.

Laurie backed away from the table, a hand running through his dark hair. He'd gotten his act together – he'd made Amy his wife, joined the family business and begun a family. It was just inconsiderably cruel for his feelings for Jo to return and hold him in such a vice that he'd pulled her in too.

"Age has improved the drawing, don't you think dear?" Amy asked, implying more than just the drawing. She didn't want to hurt him, but losing him would do so much more. If he could only see that she wanted him, wanted the best of him because that was what was best for him. It confused her too, but Amy couldn't stop. "I think time has played a large part in gracing the sketch, only, there are many lines I would rather take back now."

Laurie continued to look away, out a window on the other side of the room but he heard her. He understood her full meaning and by Jove, if he wasn't sure of Jo's feelings now he'd beg forgiveness and devote himself wholly to Amy's temple.

"If only the past were revisit-able," Laurie responded. He'd have gone and made Jo see reason, he knew how she truly felt and it was the biggest mistake – the only mistake that mattered. But then there was Amy. He turned to see her closing the book, her face cast into sorrow until she looked at the sun and Laurie saw the angel he'd convinced himself in love with before.

…

Jo arrived under the guise of tending her heavily pregnant sister, promising her husband that she'd return in at least two days after he'd impressed the possibilities one faced when charged with a whole school of boys. But after the calamity made by Plumfield's residence the Laurence household was both peaceful and alarmingly silent at once.

Disturbed by such extreme difference, Jo went walking about to look for the lord and lady. She quickly found Amy in the sitting room that watched the gardens and she approached quietly, expecting her sister to erupt into a fit of rage after such silence. Little Amy would have, and Jo knew it would've been in great reason if she'd known about Laurie's change of heart. And her own.

"Amy," she greeted softly. The golden head lifted to give a small, pitiful smile and Jo wondered if she'd been sulking.

"Oh, hello Jo dear," her voice seemed smaller somehow and her breath heavier. "I expect you've come to help." Amy rubbed her swollen belly and Jo nodded, the baby was due soon and she remembered how uncomfortable Meg had been. "Oh, good, good." She seemed distracted, craning her white neck slightly to see over Jo's shoulder and out the window.

"Amy, are you well?" Jo asked worriedly, "you don't seem like yourself. Is it the baby? Where's Laurie?" Jo had risen in her increasing panic but Amy waved her questions off. Then she pointed at the window and Jo turned to see what had her so unfocused.

"He's been doing that all afternoon." Jo saw Laurie out on the lawns, running! She looked back at her sister incredulous, "I don't understand." Amy huffed and leaned back in her seat, shutting her eyes, "He's running Jo. Men aren't supposed to run, boys are! And I can't get him back inside."

Jo watched Amy for a moment before coming to a decision. "I'll do it." She moved over to help her sister up and out of her chair, determining that her sister's state had impaired both movement and mind for a time. "I'll give him a good talking to and then you'll get some peace of mind." Jo thought on her words, wondering just how much talking she would be able to do once Laurie knew she was here.

Amy however was so swallowed with her mood she just shrugged to Jo and took a servant's arm, "You know, Jo? I don't care what he does anymore, or what fancy he's struck up in his mind. Let him do what he wants! I'm tired and I'm going to bed." Jo definitely caught the sulk in her voice that time.

…

Jo turned Amy's words over in her head. I don't care what he does anymore. It was too easy to cling to the hope she'd sparked saying that and as she got closer and closer to Laurie she believed them mostly true. Jo's reason would've stopped her thinking it anymore than a tired Amy talking during a mood but reason had left so long ago. It was true, Amy didn't care!

"Laurie," she called out to the man who was thudding across the grass, coat and vest long gone. Jo's heart had almost stopped when Laurie's face broke into a grin at her appearance and her mind finally agreed – it was Amy's loss. "Amy doesn't care," she said ambiguously before taking hold of his head and kissing him hard. Stunned, Laurie forgot to respond until his body kicked in.

"Why good afternoon Jo!" he said despite the darkening sky. Laurie matched her soft smile, confused but extremely pleased by her actions before he kissed her again. She ran her hands through his hair, imagining just for a moment that she wasn't Mrs. Bhaer and Amy wasn't sleeping in the house not so far away.

But she was Jo and he was Laurie. And she loved him very much.