Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

Crumbling Foundations

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Warnings: None

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"I've decided that Monticello needs some massive updating," Jefferson said, stalking in the living room from the kitchen.

"Missing your fancy gas stove?" Hamilton asked from the couch, turning a page of his book.

"Yes! As a matter of fact, the entire place needs to be remodeled," Jefferson announced. He pointed dramatically at a wall, "Starting with that wall right there. It needs to go. And the stairs! Complete do-over. And don't even get me started on the bedroom."

"Didn't you design this place yourself? Why are you complaining?"

"Yes, I did design this place myself. About a million different times. Do you know how many times I've torn it down and started over?"

"Well, you can't do that anymore."

"Why the fuck not?" Jefferson asked, crossing his arms. "It's my house."

Hamilton sighed and shut his book, "Maybe once, but that was two hundred years ago. Now it's a historical landmark. The only reason we've gotten away with staying here so far is because the government shut it down to use as a base, so there's no tourists or official people around right now. What're you going to do? March up and demand it be turned over to you because you're Thomas Jefferson and it's rightfully yours?"

"But I am Thomas Jefferson and it is rightfully mine."

Hamilton snorted, "Good luck convincing other people that. You'll probably just get thrown into a mental hospital."

"Well, why did it end up as a museum then? I left it to you."

"Yeah, and I died about nine years later."

"Who'd you leave it to?"

"Madison."

"Ah. Yep, that explains it. He has my journal too. I need to get that back," Jefferson sighed, collapsing on the couch next to Hamilton, laying his head in his lap. "But this is my home. This is where you and I became more. This is where all our memories are. I can't give that up."

"We could build an exact replica."

Jefferson thought for a moment. "No, it wouldn't be right. Mostly because I would redesign it."

"You want to redesign this one anyway."

"But the story is still there! It's the same foundation, the same hill, the same sunset, if we move, it'll be gone. This is where we truly found each other, what if we die and come back again and can't find each other because all this is gone?"

"Thomas, stop," Hamilton said sternly. "You can't just steal such an import historical location from the nation."

"What nation, Hamilton?" Jefferson asked. "What nation do you see? Every state in the Eastern States of America left the Union a long time ago. The government is just in disbelief and refusing to acknowledge it. We're basically in the nation of Virginia."

"You know, you have a point there," Hamilton said, gears turning in his head. "This is government land and there is no government anymore. So this is conquered land. Maybe you can claim it. It's far-fetched and probably never going to work, but we could give it a try."

"Or," Jefferson went on, "I'll let you cook and when you accidentally burn the house down, we can claim it was lost in the war, the land will lose its significance, I can buy the land, and then I can remodel. That sounds way easier."

"You're suggesting arson?"

Jefferson shrugged, "I'm owed something for coming back from the dead just to fix this stupid nation, why not make it my home?"

Hamilton sighed, opening his book again on top of Jefferson's face. "Whatever you want. But we're stashing everything in the library."

"Deal," Jefferson said from underneath Hamilton's book.

"Speaking of the government, why don't you think they've retaliated against us taking over their base?" Hamilton asked.

"Ah, I've got a theory about this. You see, their commander probably got a report saying that you and I broke out of a maximum-security prison by simply slaughtering every soldier in the place. Then he got one that said that we, plus a ragtag group of volunteers, stole a tank from the middle of enemy ranks, in the middle of a battle with seemingly very little effort. Then the next report rolled in about us decimating their army when they had the entire rebel force trapped. So the commander's sitting trying to figure out how to get rid of these two guys that keep blowing his plans apart by pulling off insane shit that should never even work when another report rolls in saying that we took a leave of absence. He sitting there celebrating when he gets told that after our immediate departure, we wiped out every soldier here at Monticello. So he's like okay, odd, what're they doing now? Living peacefully, with seemingly no intention of moving their asses anywhere anytime soon. So the Commander is like, fuck, don't touch them, leave them be and pray they don't fight anymore."

"Yeah....Or they think it was an actual rebel move made by a regiment of soldiers that are now holding the base, so they're amassing a force to attack. It's only been, what? Two days since we took the base?" Hamilton said.

"My version is more badass."

"Your version is ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous," Jefferson shot back. Hamilton lightly smacked Jefferson with his book in response.

Jefferson leaped from Hamilton's lap, spun around, planted a kiss on Hamilton's lips, and strode out the door with a purposeful stride. Curious, Hamilton shut his book with a snap and followed him out. Hamilton found him standing on the front lawn, staring ahead, unmoving.

"What're you doing, mon chéri?" Hamilton asked, placing a hand on Jefferson's back.

"Where'd all these trees come from?" Jefferson asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Where are my fields? They were right there where the trees are. How did they get there so fast?"

"Thomas..."

Jefferson stared off for a moment, his eyes unfocusing. "Oh..." he stated simply after a moment. "Right. Sorry. No fields for farming anymore."

"Thomas, why don't you and I go lie down for a little while? Spend some time together. Relax," Hamilton proposed, worrying about Jefferson.

"No," Jefferson replied, "I think I'll take a walk. Clear my head."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be fine. I'd take a horse, but I don't have any anymore," he replied. "You go ahead and finish your book. I'll be back soon," he said as he walked off, following some invisible path he seemed to remember from the old days, now long hidden underneath the growth of nature.

Hamilton watched him go, wanting to go with him but knowing Jefferson wanted to be alone and the best thing to do was to respect that. So when he couldn't see Jefferson's back through the trees anymore, he walked back inside the house and continued reading his book as Jefferson suggested.

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