Hamilton Oneshots

Start Again (HamLiza)

Eliza stood next to her husband, Alexander Hamilton, she struggled with her chaotic mind as the wind blew her ponytail up and about in a twist. She was always praised for one thing, one thing, by every single person and almost all of her suitors, she was praised for her ability to recognize and realize when somebody needed love.

She knew, as she saw Alexander struggle with the gardening, obviously remembering when Philip would run around their legs and ask questions about every single blade of grass, she knew he needed her.

Alexander probably admitted it to others but he never told her and Eliza assumed it was because he was giving her space and letting her decide when to give him the love he had spent near a month to secure for life. Even though he had strayed from his vows Eliza swore an oath to him and no matter how people gossiped about her evening the battlefield by sleeping with so-and-so Eliza knew she had never had an affair, had never stopped loving Alexander, had never given up on their marriage.

She looked over at their apple tree and felt a tear trickle down her face, remembering one summer when Alex climbed onto the sturdiest branch and tied a rope swing to it so Philip and his siblings could play on it. Their rope swing lasted exactly a week before they broke it, apparently, little Angelica wouldn't get off and it turned into a game of everybody trying to be on the rope swing until the poor rope gave out and they all tumbled to the ground in a giggling mess.

Poor Angelica...

Eliza closed her eyes, Angelica Hamilton, her daughter...she, well, after Philip's death she collapsed and slowly her mind drifted from the intelligent seventeen-year-old she was into the two-year-old mind she has now. All the men lining up to marry her seemed to vanish overnight and Eliza struggled to care for her until eventually, she handed Angelica over into the care of Dr. MacDonald. She knew she must be a terrible mother to want to outlive Angelica but she did, if Angelica survived her then she had no way to make sure she continued to live a comfortable life as she trusted no other who would outlive her to care for Angelica as needed.

Eliza remembered her will, she'd written one already knowing that life was short and not a day was promised. She'd written many wills in her lifetime though after the Reynolds Pamphlet she accidentally burnt her newer drafts so she'd made a new one in which she asked for her children to take pity on her poor daughter and for Angelica to be buried in Trinity Church where she wanted her own body to rest so she may be close to Philip.

What a terrible mother she was, to have lost her eldest children. Philip to Eaker whom she had sent letters explaining her intense grief in excruciating detail until he died of what was perceived as guilt, Eliza felt terrible for feeling triumphant about that, and Angelica who was trapped forever in what many described as 'eternal childhood' as the shock of Philip's death struck her fast and hard.

If only she'd been there, if only she had been there when her children needed her the most. She should've been there, her one job in this entire world was to protect her children and love them above all, and she had failed. She'd taught both Philip and Angelica piano and French when they were children, she often teased Philip about how much more musically inclined Angelica was while also making sure never to go too far and maintaining that both had room to improve and that Philip made art on the piano. Alexander wanted all of his children to know French and so Eliza made sure they knew it, every single one of their children was and is fluent in French and could speak Dutch though that was a more private study that made Eliza feel in tune with her heritage.

Eliza hugged herself and shivered, it had gotten cold, that or she had just noticed. Alex stood up and asked, "Cold?" And she nodded. He took his coat off and draped it around her shoulders while making sure not to touch her, he knew she didn't want physical contact with him at the moment.

Eliza looked at the sunset and the stars beginning to appear, stars would forever make her cry for the simple fact that she always told Philip he had the stars painted across his body from the paint stroke of God.

She looked at Alexander and noticed he had tears in his eyes like her so she looked at his hand and slowly put her hand in his, not looking up at her when she did it. Slowly, ever so slowly, she leaned into him and said a choked out, "It's quiet uptown." Something he'd been repeating over and over to her, just trying to break through her surface to the Eliza he'd met all those years ago who kept looking at him from the side of a ballroom and hiding behind people to steal glances at him, he wanted her back but knew he had no right to that side of Eliza ever again.

The two looked at the sunset as they comprehended just how different their lives were now. They'd never wake up to Philip nor Angelica, for any reason, ever again. They'd never hear Philip's voice say anything or his piano music fill the halls, especially during thunderstorms when he gathered all of the children and played the piano to calm them down.

They watched the sunset and looked at each other before they both finally just completely broke and clung to each other, crying and holding onto the other as tightly as they could, Eliza could feel parts of her fabric ripping but she didn't care because she had Alexander. Her Alexander. He was hers again and even though it took years, she finally had him for herself.

Eliza got a small, "I love you." Out through her tears and closed her eyes, picturing when Alexander came home to her and Philip, he picked them both up and spun them in a circle and chanted that they'd won, "So much." She added, missing the times when he would do that to her.