Hamilton One-Shots

Burn

Philip stayed close to the door. The door had been closed fast, but it didn't keep any words from his ears. His mother spoke to his father in a tone he hadn't heard before. His mother was upset, more so than he had ever seen her before.

"You've forfeit all right to my love!" Her voice carried through the rooms. The voice that had sung him and his siblings to sleep, the one that had counted with him so many times was shouting at his father. "You've forfeit every right in this house and you can sleep in your office!"

"Philip?"

He turned to see his little brother standing just beside him. His hands were clasped nervously in front of him, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. He hadn't heard him approach at all though, his mind had other things to focus on before. "Yes, James?"

"Is Daddy in trouble?" His voice was a meek whisper only exaggerated by the voice that they all heard from within the closed room.

Philip bit back the words that would have immediately flown off his lips otherwise. Not trusting himself to say the right things, he simply nodded his head.

"Did he do something to Mommy?"

His mother's voice died down. The two looked to the door, silence seemingly the only thing now emanating from the room before the door opened. His mother walked out. Philip couldn't tell if it was anger that surrounded her or if it was sadness. She passed by both of them as if they weren't there.

Philip called out to her. He wanted to call his voice back when his mother turned around. "Mom?"

Her hair was kept neat, but her face was was a mess of emotion. Her eyebrows were tense with agitation while her eyes seemed different. "Yes, Philip? What is it?"

Philip regretted bothering his mother. He wanted to tell her to just ignore him and continue on to wherever she had been going before. James saved him from his embarrassment.

"Are you all right, Mommy?"

His mother's brows slacked. Her lips turned up in a faded smile. "Everything will be all right, James." She held her hand out and James quickly ran to grasp her hand in his. They walked away and Philip wasn't sure what to do.

Philip hesitated beside the door. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the folded paper. He held it in front of him, the paper crinkling as he unfolded it. His eyes glanced over it, glazing over and not taking in any of the words. The Reynolds Pamphlet, that's what it was entitled.

His father had told everyone how he had been with another woman. To save his reputation, he had destroyed everything else dear to him. Had it really been worth it? His mother was heart-broken and he wasn't sure what to do.

He pushed the paper back into his pocket and closed his eyes. He felt tears  under his eyes that he desperately tried to disband.

Don't cry. Make Dad proud.

But he's the one who made Mom so upset.

He felt so conflicted. A battles waged in his heart and he didn't know who he wanted to win.

Philip took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He opened his eyes and walked into the room. His father stood by the bed, a bag sitting on the mattress while his faster packed his things into it.

Philip didn't know what to say. The battle waged in his heart as he felt such irritation for the man he loves and looks up to. "Pops?" His voice was hardly over a mutter, but his father heard it.

He looked up to Philip without a smile. He didn't greet him or ask him about any of his poetry as he ordinarily would. He simply looked back down, his head hanging by his neck. "I'm sorry, Philip."

He thought that should have helped his father's case in his heart, but it did the exact opposite. He had broken his mother's heart, and neither Philip or any of his siblings knew what to do with the whole affair. And all he said was sorry. His hand curled into a right fist at his side.

"There's no excuse for my actions, Philip. Please, just remember that I do love your mother and you and your brothers and sisters. Nothing could ever change that."

"Then why?" His voice came out choked. He didn't want to look weak, but that's how he felt. He was helpless to do anything to help his mother, helpless to understand his father, and his voice gave it all away. "You could have just kept it all to yourself!" he snapped. "You didn't have to brake Mom's heart! You didn't have to tell the entire world that your family wasn't good enough for you!" His tears leaked from his eyes and it infuriated him. He didn't wipe them away, he just let them flow down his cheeks. "Why weren't we good enough?"

His father looked up and Philip saw his eyes. There was no pride in his expression. The strength that he usually had had entirely dissipated from him. When he finally spoke, his voice was meek and small. "You're not the ones who weren't good enough, I am. I was never good enough for your mother or any of you, and now that's finally crystal clear."

Philip felt his tears run to his chin. "But you were! We're a family!" he shouted. He was sure that all his siblings and his mother heard his words, but he wasn't thinking of that much. His voice dropped considerably. "You just couldn't say no."

"I know I've made mistakes."

Understatement.

"You don't have to forgive me." His father seemed dead. There wasn't any light left in his eyes. "Just don't make the same mistakes I did, Philip."

Philip held his lips together for several moments, the silence defining. "I love you, Pops, just like Mom, Angie, James and everyone else, and nothing's ever going to change that."

His father turned away for a moment and placed a few things into his bag before closing it.

"Please don't leave forever," Philip asked.

He picked up his bag and hung it on his shoulder. He walked around the bed and stopped in front of Philip. His lips formed a weary smile. Philip didn't stop his father when he wiped some of his tears from his cheeks. "Stay strong," he said quietly. "You all know where to find me. You're the man of the house now."

Philip's lips parted. That's not what he's wanted to hear, far from it. He straightened his posture and looked up to his father. "I'll make you proud," he said. Despite everything, he still wanted to make his father proud. He was going to be the man his father couldn't, and he would take care of the ones he loved.

His father's smile reached his eyes for a moment before he left. Philip spun on his feet and watched his father leave, his tailcoat floating behind him. The door closed and Philip stood fixed in the same spot. Only his little sister broke his trance.

"Philip?" Eliza asked.

He looked down to his little sister standing at the doorway. Her eyes were red, she's been crying.

"What going to happen now?" she asked, her voice timid.

Philip knelt down in front of him and managed a meek smile. "I'm going to take care of everyone," he said with confidence he hadn't known he was capable of. "That's my job now."

His sister came to him and wrapped her arms around him. Philip held his sister and didn't let go. He wasn't going to let anything else hurt them.