New Horizons

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Don't be afraid to point out mistakes, it's the main reason I'm doing maintenance on this story. Love you all!!!

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Warnings: None

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Hamilton's house was officially sold, along with all his furniture. It was a weird feeling, knowing you don't have anywhere to go back home to, nothing keeping you tied to a town or a city or a single place. It was an odd sensation that not everyone could handle, it was exhilarating and scary, yet oddly freeing. It was a feeling Hamilton was familiar with, he had it before when he left Nevis for New York. Now he was on the move again. Nothing to return to, not knowing what the future holds. It was terrifying knowing that his entire life, everything he had accomplished so far was now hanging in the balance of this one risky decision, but it wasn't anything Hamilton couldn't handle. He was willing to take that risk and if it fell through, Hamilton could just start again until he got it right.

He had no strings. He could do anything he wanted, anything at all. Except maybe go to the moon, that was definitely out of the cards. Unless he went to another country. Maybe he'll go to England someday, he always had a respect for England. That had such a wonderful financial system. Plus, their nation wasn't currently undergoing a low-key civil war just after a high key and explosive civil war.

Hamilton was waiting for the seatbelt sign to turn off and for the announcement that he could disembark. The airplane was getting stuffy. Finally, the sign clicked off and the disembodied voice announced they could leave. Hamilton practically leaped from his seat, grabbed his carry-on and bolted. He was out the door before anyone else had even gotten up. Baggage claim was packed full of people, unluckily for him, but he managed to grab his belongings and find his way back out of the crowd and to a taxi. Apparently, civil wars didn't shut down airports. That seemed like something that would be shut down first. Maybe it was airline companies raking in the cash from fleeing refugees, trying to escape the tyrannical oppression and the radical rebels. That sounded about right.

The taxi dropped Hamilton off at the hotel he'd be staying at for some time until he could find a place to rent. Hopefully, that would be soon, because he couldn't afford to stay at a hotel for long. He may have to consider getting a roommate or something. For now, Hamilton just had to set up his life again. He'd need a job. Preferably one that would earn him cash and fast.

He stepped up to the front desk, "Reservation for Hamilton," he stated.

The man looked up at him, took in his clothes and bearing all in one long look before recognition crossed his face, "You're Hamilton?! The Hamilton?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Hamilton asked.

"You're Alexander Hamilton, leader of the rebel forces during the war!" the man said happily.

Hamilton laughed nervously, "Yep, that's right." He was praying that this guy wasn't a Govey, if he was, Hamilton was going to be having a hard time.

"I think your work is fantastic, you should publish your story, talk about the battles and the riots!"

Not a Govey then, a fan. Great. Well, at least Hamilton didn't have to worry about being strangled in the middle of the night. "Maybe one day, I didn't know people in Virginia knew my name," Hamilton said skeptically.

"Of course! Your efforts in New York paved the way for the entire nation's revolution!"

"Some would call it a civil war."

"Whichever," the man waved him off, "Oh! I'm so sorry, you probably want your room key. You must be very tired after traveling all this way. What are you doing in Virginia if I might ask?" The man handed Hamilton his key.

"Getting into politics," Hamilton replied before waving goodbye and making his way to his room. It was nice to have fans, but too many got to be a hassle because then you couldn't get anywhere or do anything without being flooded by people. It got to be exhausting after awhile. Hamilton let himself into his room, his luggage was already there waiting for him. He'd unpack later, for now, a bed had his name written all over it.

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Jefferson liked to think he was a well-traveled man. He spent many years traversing other countries, he's been everywhere in Europe, lots of places in Asia, he's even hit a couple countries in Africa and South America. He'd been to Australia too. Now he was standing in the house of George Washington. Mount Vernon. It was a beautiful place. So much history here. History was a passion of his, his favorite era was the American Revolution. So much happened during that time. War, the Declaration, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Louisiana Purchase, the French Revolution, just so much. And the people that had lived, oh the people! What really interested him was the story between his namesake, Thomas Jefferson, and Alexander Hamilton. There was so much mystery wrapped around the two. There were so many different versions and accounts that there's no telling what really happened. Jefferson remembered learning about it college what seemed like a lifetime ago, back when the country was still somewhat functional.

Somewhat.

The professor had talked about how they were enemies and then friends. Most people say that they were always enemies and that Hamilton backing Jefferson in the election was just strategic politics. Jefferson had his own beliefs.

Not that it mattered.

Jefferson left Mount Vernon several hours later and returned to his home in the capital of the nation, Washington D.C. He owned farmlands way out in the Midwest, but there wasn't much that he needed to do to take care of them. Mostly paperwork. He was well set off financially. He inherited the land and a fair fortune when his father died when he was only fourteen. He missed them dearly.

The city was abuzz with news. People were muttering quietly to each other about it and glancing around like it was a conspiracy. Jefferson approached a couple people.

"What'd I miss?"

The people turned and looked at him, immediately recognizing him as Thomas Jefferson, one of the leaders of the revolution. "Jefferson!" one said, wide-eyed. He was hard to miss, the way he was dressed. He may not have fought physically, but everyone knew his name from the political efforts he put forth, going as far as to straight up demand a reformation of the current government with a great amount of help from John Adams. Cool guy.

"What's going on?" Jefferson asked.

"Oh, rumor has it that Alexander Hamilton has come all the way from New York to here, Washington D.C."

Jefferson raised his eyebrows, "Hamilton? You mean the leader of the New York Revolts at the beginning of the war?"

"That's the one."

"Where's he staying?" Jefferson asked.

"No idea, they say he just got here a couple days ago. Some lucky hotel worker recognized him and told his friends."

Jefferson nodded along, made sense, secrets were hard to keep when you're famous. "Thanks for telling me, if you find anything else out, make sure to let me know," Jefferson winked, handing over his email, "now don't go and share that with anyone," he whispered, and grin across his face. The person almost fainted as Jefferson walked away, whistling.

Alexander Hamilton, here in Washington D.C. Who would've guessed. Hamilton was known for his bravery during the war, leading mass amounts of people against the government. Jefferson was known more from the political side. If there was one thing Jefferson knew, it was that Hamilton was known for causing riots and mob rule by riling the people.

Sounds a lot like a certain pamphlet author Jefferson knew.

Hamilton was going to have to be careful, government loyalists, Goveys, would be all over him no time and they'd do everything in their power to rip him to shreds. And not just the loyalists, but if the military decided it was worth the risk, they might decide to make a move to kidnap Hamilton. Maybe Jefferson too. And other important iconic leaders of the rebellion. Jefferson hated the man's methods, but he did do a lot of good for the war. Perhaps a visit was in order.

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