"Why is Philip's face red?", Alexander Jr. asked, standing on his chair and ruining the moment.
"Because he just told his loves something very important.", Eliza said, sitting the small boy down again.
"What did he tell them?"
"It's none of our business.", Angie said to her brother, kicking him under the table. The smaller boy pouted.
"Both of you, behave.", Alexander said as Eliza and Thomas brought the food out and set it on the table.
"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us. I don't know how we'll eat all of this.", Schuyler chuckled. Thomas grinned.
"We'll take some back home.", he said, spooning some food onto his plate.
They ate with happy chatter among the table, Philip breaking into his bad habit and playing with his food with his sister, building little things in their plates.
James watched with a fondness in his eyes. Eliza smiled at him.
"They've always done this.", she mouthed to him, the politician biting back a laugh. Thomas and Alexander were in the middle of a heated debate and Schuyler was spectating to make sure they didn't go for each other's throats.
Afterwards, Eliza brought out the fruit tart. She had been able to draw a promise out of Thomas for fruits from Monticello for her next fruit pie.
The kids dug into their food while the adults chatted some more. Alexander Jr. was the first to finish, like he normally was when it came to desserts. He waited, albeit impatiently, for Philip to finish so they could play soldiers. As soon as the older was done, he dragged his older brother off.
"Wait here!", he ordered, running upstairs. Philip chuckled, setting up the living room for them. Alexander Jr. came back with a box and thrust it against Philip's chest. "Put this on! I found it in Father's room. It's a real uniform!", he said.
Philip sighed and shook his head, grinning. He walked into the hallway and into the first room. As he unfolded it, he was in awe of the condition of the uniform. The one he held was in great condition, no holes or frays, like it'd been well taken care of, but also rugged and rough, like it'd seen destruction. A constant, just like his father himself.
He quickly changed, looking at himself in the mirror. He thought about what he might've looked like as a soldier and put his hair up. He checked himself over again and grinned, walking back out of the room to his brother, who giggled and pulled him over to the couch.
"John?", they heard a broken voice say. He looked up at his father, who'd gone pale. Eliza looked from her son to her husband with a worried look. James, Thomas, and Schuyler all watched, tense.
"Alexander...", she said, trying to grab his attention. She grabbed his hand, rubbing his palm. Alexander stared ahead for a moment, tears gathering and silently dripping down his face. Philip made the accidental mistake of walking closer to see what was wrong.
Alexander flinched and let out a sob, with incoherent mentions of "John" and "Oh God, I'm sorry", and it became clear to them that Jefferson wasn't the only one who'd lost a lover in the time since the war.
"Philip, go out of the room.", Eliza said softly, a worried tone to her voice. Philip immediately backed up, confused as to why his father was so upset. He went back to the living room across the hall, Thomas following him.
The boy ran back into the room where he changed, confused and frustrated, his own emotions rising. He got out of the uniform as quick as possible without damaging it and got back into his normal clothes. He started to hyperventilate until he felt secure arms around him and found his older lover wrapping his arms around him. He snuggled into Thomas's embrace, shaking a little. They stayed like that for a little while, Thomas gently stroking the boy's hair to calm him, Philip listening to Jefferson's breathing, until Eliza came in. Thomas quietly kissed the boy's forehead before stepping out so Eliza could talk to her son.
She sat him on the bed, sighing softly. "You know, during the war, your father had a lover.", she said. Philip looked up at the mention of a lover. "His name was John Laurens. Even though we were engaged at the time, he was with John during the war. At the end of the war, news reached your father that John had been shot and killed. He was heartbroken. He spent the first couple weeks mourning alone in his office, before grieving openly."
"Oh...", was all Philip could say as he processed what his mother was saying. She smiled.
"I was fond of John. He made your father very happy. I have no doubt that he loved, still loves him. You know, he actually invited John to join our wedding night after the reception.", she chuckled at the memory.
Philip looked at her, shocked. He tried to imagine her, his father, and this John together on their wedding night, before quickly casting that thought away, deciding it was better to not think about his parents having a threesome with his father's lover.
"You look exactly like him...", she said, smiling softly, as if she were seeing John in front of her instead of her son. Philip was able to assume that John had joined them on their wedding night, and the uniform would have brought back his father's heartbreak. "He would be very proud of you.", she smiled.
Philip grinned at his mother as they left the room to rejoin the others.
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Sickness, Freckles, and Magenta (ON HIATUS AND SLOW UPDATES)
FanfictionDisappointment was an understatement. Philip Hamilton was ashamed, embarrassed, angry, confused, and yes, disappointed. The Reynolds Pamphlet has torn the Hamilton family apart, so much that Philip runs out angry and collapses emotionally at his fat...