what if...

what if wendy hamilton never killed herself?

t/w
suicide mention, suicide attempts, rape mention, domestic abuse

not proofread bc I don't feel like it

-

Wendy Bella Hamilton, bastard daughter of Alexander Hamilton and his mistress, Maria Reynolds. At just nineteen years old, she would hang herself after enduring a life rife with abuse.

But in this world, she lived.

-

June 13th, 1811.

Wendy couldn't do this. She couldn't do this. Not to her mother, not to Mary, not to Diana, and especially not to Elizabeth. She couldn't leave Elizabeth alone with him. But she was going to have another child, she was pregnant, she knew that now. She didn't want to have another child with Hugh. She would have rather died.

But she couldn't do that to the daughter she already had. The daughter that wasn't even a year old yet.

So, she came up with a plan.

That very night, Wendy left, her fast asleep daughter in her arms. She had very little with her. Where was she going? The home of Mary Jonah, the love of her life. She walked down the roads, the sky was beginning to brighten by the time she came to Mary's house. She sat on the stairs, waiting for Mary to wake up. 

When she heard her begin to come downstairs, the blonde stood and knocked on the door, and Mary soon opened it. "Wendy? It's so early, what are you doing here already?" Though still confused, she gestured Wendy inside. "I don't- I refuse to live with Hugh a moment longer. I can't stay there for a second longer. I refuse to have another child with him." 

"Are you saying you're pregnant?" Mary asked as she shut the door and led her girlfriend into the parlor. "Yes, that is what I'm saying. But, I...I almost hung myself, Mary, but I thought about it. I couldn't do that to Elizabeth, I couldn't leave her alone with him." The blonde sighed as the brunette took the now somewhat awake Elizabeth into her arms.

Mary could pick up on the fact that Wendy had run away. She completely understood it. "He's going to find you here. You know this will be one of the first places he looks. The other places he'll look will be Eliza's or Diana's or maybe even Angel's."

"I know. I know."

"So..." Mary paused, thinking for a moment. "You know, Mark did build me a cottage. It's a little far from here though. We can hide out there and then, when Hugh stops looking for you, we'll tell everyone where you've been."

Wendy smiled. "I like that plan."

-

Several months later, Wendy gave birth to her second and last child. A daughter. "So, what do you think we should call her?" Mary asked, running one hand through her wife's hair and another through her daughter's hair.

"I wasn't sure. Maybe Vivian? I've always liked that name." The blonde kissed her forehead. "Vivian Angel Jonah."

-

Several years later, the two were still living at the cottage. Their family members knew where they were, but Hugh didn't. Elizabeth and Vivian ran around by the river, giggling like madmen.

They were wives, even if not legally.

They held hands, the brunette leaning her head against the blonde's shoulder.

All was right in the world.