America's Autism [COMPLETE]

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?

1789.     //Hamiltalia AU XD
Alfred POV

I run into Washington's office, my tie not tied and my shoes knotted so bad I'll have to fight to get them off. Oh well!

Hamilton is in there, too. I hurriedly try to tie my tie before they see me. Darn it! I can't!

I give up and huff, clearing my throat and looking up at them both. Why are they still taller than me?! Well, Hamilton is only about six inches taller. Hee hee. That's not terrible.

Hamilton turns to look at me, and hugs me with one arm. He smells like ink, parchment, and sleep deprivation. I hug back, and then we separate. Washington ruffles my hair. "Hey, son."

He smells like sleep deprivation too. Or is it me?

Hamilton jokingly says, "Hey, he's my son!"

I giggle. "You're all still fighting over me, I see. Uh, this is really stupid, but could you two help me with my tie? I'm sorry."

Hamilton smiles as Washington gets up to greet someone, probably Burr. "Of course, little man."

He ties the darned strip of fabric, me watching everything he does, trying to figure out how they do it.

He finishes it and then pats my head. "There. It takes a while to learn, Pip. I mean, Alfred."

I giggle. "Thank you. Who's Pip?"

He smiles. "Philip, my son."

I blink. "Oh. Well, congratulations."

Wow. Wasn't it yesterday this dude was like nineteen and exhausted from his trip overseas? Why are they aging so fast?!

I adjust my glasses and follow Hamilton over to Burr, listening as they talk about their kids and families.

I sometimes get scared that they'll all die soon.

Why do I get really scared when I see Burr shake Hamilton's hand? Something is going to happen with those two. I just know it.

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"I have a bad feeling! He's done something stupid! He promised to be more honest!"

Eliza is fretting and pacing everywhere while I bite my lip and rock a little on her bed while I hold her youngest kiddos, trying to comfort them. I was right, all those years ago. Burr and Hamilton are going at it. They hate each other now. I'm pretty sure they're doing something....shady. Like a duel, perhaps. Something to take the other down.

I feel pain in my tummy, and I bend over a little, putting the kids on the mattress and running into the bathroom. I close the door and lift my shirt, and immediately scream.

There's a gunshot wound in my stomach!

I run out of the bathroom and whisper to Eliza, "I think he may be injured. Or Burr might be. I think he and Burr were dueling. It's Alexander. He's.... I'm sorry." I hug the kids, my eyes wide. I'm having a crazy dream. It's too soon. They're so young!
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Eliza POV
I sit by Alexander's grave, sobbing as I lay flowers by the stone. It's been a month already. How strange how time passes.

I hear a whimper and a nervous squeak, and I turn around, seeing Alfred looking at Philip's grave and clearly trying not to cry. I see the weathered stone engraved with 'Philip Hamilton'. Years go by, but the pain is still raw.

I stand up and put my arm around Alfred, who leans into me and sobs into my chest. I'm reminded strongly of when Philip cried into my chest when his body was weakening from the gunshot wound. In a lot of ways, Alfred is like Philip and Alexander. He's very stubborn and sometimes I think I see them when I look at him.
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Alfred POV |1854
I lay flowers in front of Eliza's and Angelica's graves, wondering how in the hell time went so fast.

My tummy clenches, and I wince. Tensions are growing. I can feel them. Worse than ever. But life goes on.