Battle Scars - Lams

1; Aaron Burr Sir?

Hamilton sat on his bed, Laurens on the ground, little toy soldiers in his hands. They were both around the age of five, and Hamilton had recently found out that he was going to move away. To the Caribbean, to be exact. He didn't know how to break it to his best friend.

"Hey Alex, wouldn't it be cool to fight in a war?"

Hamilton looked down at his friend, who still had the small men in his hands, but he was now looking at him. Hamilton shrugged slightly.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Aw!" Laurens giggled, climbing up onto the bed to give his friend a hug, "Don't worry, I'm a strong boy!"

Hamilton smiled softly and hugged his friend back. He really didn't want to leave his only friend. They had known each other for a while, due to their mothers.

Hamilton then sighed and pulled away, playing with his thumbs. He was quite an intelligent child, so sometimes Laurens wouldn't understand what he was saying, but he could always tell what he was feeling.

"Alex, are you okay?"

Hamilton shook his head, looking anywhere but Laurens.

"Jacky, I have to leave here for a while."

* * *

Hamilton had his bag slung over his shoulder, as he ran through the halls of , bumping into people as he ran. He was looking for a certain Aaron Burr, as he was told that he could show him around.

Hamilton was now 18, so it had been 13 years since he saw his old friend, and he had moved back from the Caribbean. His father had left him and his mother had died five years after he had moved, and he moved around a lot, until he decided he wanted to move back to New York. He was an orphan, and he lived on his own, in a small apartment, though soon he would be sharing a dorm with someone.

He finally slowed down, as he saw someone that resembled Burr. He had seen a picture of him at the office, so he instantly assumed it was him. Hamilton approached him and tapped his shoulder, clearing his throat.

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?"

He turned around slightly, "That depends, who's asking."

Hamilton flinched and chuckled awkwardly nodding, "Oh sure, sir. I'm Alexander Hamilton! I was told that you could show me around?"

"Ah yes," he turned around fully to face Hamilton, "could you show me your schedule so I can direct you to your first class? I'm sure someone else can show you around for the rest of the day."

Hamilton nodded and grabbed his schedule out of his bag, and handed it to Burr. He examined it and nodded.

"You have French class first. Follow me."

Hamilton nodded and followed Burr to his first class. They didn't say a word the whole time, and Hamilton found it quite awkward, but he was fine with it.

Once they arrived at French class, Burr walked away, heading to his own class. Hamilton took a big breath in, walking into the classroom. There were only a few people there. One was a tall male with his curly hair tied in a ponytail, who was talking to a slightly shorter guy with a bandanna tied around his head.

The one next to him was smaller than both of them, and had freckles splattered all over his face. He had golden brown eyes, and like the taller guy, his curly hair was tied up into a ponytail. He was tapping his fingers rapidly on his desk, and not paying attention to the two boys that were laughing quite loudly.