Disclaimer – I own nothing of Spring Awakening. It belongs to its respected owner. I do own my original characters and the plot. 'Nuff said.

A/N: I went to a production of Spring Awakening on Sunday and I got this idea from watching that production. MY FIRST SPRING AWAKENING STORY, SO BE NICE, PLEASE. The characters of Wendla and Melchior are based on Lea Michele and Jonathon Goff – the original Wendla and Melchior.

Summary: AU: What if Wendla didn't die at the end of Spring Awakening? What if she and Melchior ran away together? ONE-SHOT. Rated T because I'm paranoid. MY FIRST SPRING AWAKENING STORY, SO BE NICE, PLEASE.

Genre: Romance/Friendship

Rating: T


By luckyxlabradoodlexloverx7

Wendla slipped out of the clinic, silent and still, hoping her mother wouldn't notice. She pressed herself flat against the building, moving towards the light. She wanted to keep the baby growing inside her – it was her body and she could do what she wanted with it. She felt so guilty about leaving her mother, but she had paid the doctor to keep his mouth shut about her disappearing. She heard him tell her mother that Wendla didn't make it.

"Wendla!" a familiar voice pierced the darkness. Wendla was in the light and saw her love, Melchior, standing at the end of a row of buildings. She smiled and ran to him.

"Oh, Melchior, I've missed you so much!" Wendla whispered. Melchior smiled and kissed Wendla's temple.

The two of them fled Germany and slowly made their way to America. They stopped in France to get some food and supplies. They were no longer Melchior and Wendla – from that moment forward, whenever they addressed each other, they were Anna and Otto Blinkenhooper. No one suspected a thing.

As the months passed, Wendla began showing, which made Melchior happy. In her first few months, she barely had a bump. But now, in her fourth month, it was sure that there was something growing inside her.

"I hope we have a boy." Wendla said as she picked up her knitting. Melchior looked up from his journal.

"Why do you say that?" Melchior asked, coming to her side. They planned to marry in the church the following day, officially making them man and wife.

"Because I want to name him after your friend Moritz." Wendla answered. Melchior smiled and kissed the top of Wendla's head.

"I don't care what we have, just as long as he or she is healthy and perfect." Melchior told her. Wendla smiled and went back to her knitting.

The following afternoon, after the two of them finished lunch, they went to the church and had a private ceremony. The priest that was performing the service blessed them and their new life. He then told Melchior that he could kiss his lovely bride. Melchior lifted the veil off Wendla's face and kissed her passionately.

Four months later

Wendla and Melchior were in a deep sleep when Wendla was wakened by a sharp pain and wetness. She looked at the sheets and saw that they were wet. Thinking she wet herself, she went back to sleep. She was asleep for two minutes when the sharp pain woke her up.

"Melchior, something's wrong." Wendla told her husband. Melchior rose out of sleep and turned on the lamp next to him. He saw that the sheets were wet and that Wendla was in horrible pain.

"Wendla, the baby's coming." Melchior told her. "Don't worry, I know exactly what to do."

He went and called the physician while Wendla moved to a dryer place. Melchior guided her through the labor while they waited for the physician to arrive.

"Melchior, I can't do this!" Wendla wailed. Melchior dabbed her forehead with a soft cloth. He then kissed her forehead as the physician arrived. He motioned for Melchior to move so that he could sit where he had been.

Wendla was in agonizing labor for forty-eight hours, but felt a sense of relief when her perfect son arrived. He was covered in blood and membrane, but he was perfect. The physician went to examine him while Melchior tended to Wendla.

"What is his name?" the physician asked. Wendla smiled at Melchior as her son was placed in her arms.

"His name," Wendla started "is Moritz Rupert Gabor."

"I love that." Melchior told his beautiful bride. The physician, sensing that everything was alright, left the tiny apartment. Before he left, he told Melchior that he would send him the bill. Melchior nodded and turned his attention to Wendla, who was nursing Moritz.

He sat next to Wendla and held her in his arms. She leaned her head against his chest, not taking her eyes off her son.

"Do you think your friend Moritz would be happy that we named our son after him?" Wendla asked as she put Moritz down for the night.

"I think he would be pleased." Melchior answered, changing into his pajamas. Wendla was already asleep, which was good for her – she had spent all day delivering their son.

An hour later, Moritz's cries rang out throughout the apartment. Melchior swung his feet over the edge of the bed and picked up his son. He replaced the cloth diaper that Moritz wore and rocked him in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Melchior sang Moritz a German lullaby and saw the little one's eyes close. Melchior smiled and kissed the little one's forehead before placing him back in the cradle. He gently rocked the cradle a few times before going back to bed.

"Mmm. Where did you go?" Wendla whispered.

"Just taking care of Moritz." Melchior answered, kissing the top of Wendla's head.

Two years later, Melchior and Wendla were parents again – this time to a little girl that they named Rachel Anna. Rachel because it was Melchior's favorite name and Anna for Wendla's friend, Anna. Moritz was happy to have a new sibling, but sad because he had a sister.

Wendla became ill that night, so Melchior spent the first few hours with his daughter, rocking her and singing to her.

The following morning Wendla was feeling better, so she spent the day with her daughter while Melchior spent the day with his son.

As they headed into the warm summer sun, Melchior couldn't help to think about his best friend was smiling down on them.