The Price of Love

Chapter 4

Washington's PoV

"I don't wanna sleep!" Alex yells, stomping his foot. His arms are crossed over his chest, his lower lip is stuck out in a pout, and he's glaring at me. I sigh.

"Alexander." I say patiently. "You need to sleep. You're drunk, and you haven't slept for over two weeks." I repeat.

"I don't like sleep." He pouts. "It's cold and dark and lonely." I sigh again. At least he doesn't get drunk too often when he hasn't slept in a while. Only occasionally.

"I know." I say gently. He yawns and rubs his eyes. "Come here." He walks over to me and falls onto me. I smile softly and pick him up, holding him just like I used to when he was little. Age wise. He's still so short that I can pick him up and carry him like I could when he was a child. He presses his head into the crook of my neck.

"I'm not tired." He insists sleepily, his words slurred. I pat the top of his head as his eyes drop down over his violet eyes and his breathing evens out. Within minutes, he's fast asleep in my arms, his face perfectly still and his breathing deep and even. I walk to his room and pry him off me. He mumbles a small complaint and rolls over when I lay him in his bed. I pull his thin blanket over him and look over at his desk. He keeps it so organized. One stack of papers is a record of rations and other munitions we have for the army, a few stacks are battle plans, two stacks are notes on British attack patterns and strategies, one stack are mostly pre-written letters in case we need back up from anywhere. I don't know how he manages to keep it so neat. I grab the stack that has a sheet of paper over it that says:

For Dad to look over in his free time

And I retreat to my war room. Skimming through the pages, they're detailed accounts of previous battles and how those could affect the war, detailed attack plans, detailed defense plans, pages and pages outlining how losing a certain area could negatively effect us, and how giving up certain areas could help us either now or in the long run. Without Alex, I probably would have lost the war by now. Being born in a time of conflict and high tensions and growing up in war has shaped him into the smartest military mind of the century. I marvel at the dozens of pages written in his elegant handwriting, not knowing exactly where to begin. I decided it'd be easier to start at the top and work my way down from there.

---

After spending roughly half an hour reading his papers, I decide that I myself should get some sleep. So I stack the papers, grab the candle and move to my bedroom. Just a few minutes after I lay down in my bed and close my eyes, I hear my door open. "Daddy?" Alex whispers hesitantly. "I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?"

"Of course Alex. Come here." He climbs into bed with me and snuggles up to me.

"Goodnight Daddy." He breaths, his voice younger and softer than normal.

"Goodnight Alexander." I respond, closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep with my son in my arms.

---

When I wake up the next morning, Alex is already gone. I get out of bed and walk to the kitchen to see him there, unhappily sipping a cup of water. "Morning Dad." He says.

"Morning Alex. Still no coffee?" I ask. He shakes his head, glaring at his water.

"I made you breakfast." He says, nodding to a plate of eggs on the counter.

"You didn't have to." He shrugs.

"I wanted to." He says. "I got bored and I seem to be lacking in things to write about, so I'm trying to conserve what I do for later." He stares thoughtfully at his water and I can see the gears turning in his head. After several minutes, he speaks. "I think we should devote more time into training new troops. We should also recruit more people, I fear we'll lose more land should the British decide to launch a large attack to any of our fronts." I nod.

"You're right of course, but our country is running on very little money. How are we supposed to fund more soldiers?" I point out. His eyes gleam in amusement. "You've already figured it out, haven't you?"

"Yup! So can we or not?" He looks at me hopefully and I smile. He's such a child sometimes.

"Of course you can." I say, reaching over to pat his head. He grins excitedly.

"Okay thanks Dad I have to go write up some more plans because it's only partly thought out 'cause I needed your approval okay bye I'll be back in a few hours I love you thank you!" He yells, running into his room and slamming the door behind him.

"Don't slam your door!" I yell back.

"Yeah yeah whatever! What are you gonna do 'bout it?" He shouts back, slightly muffled.

"Oh shush you!" He laughs, the bright sound filling the air for several moments.

Alex's PoV

I sit down at my desk, still laughing. I grab a blank piece of paper out of my desk drawer and open up my inkwell, grabbing my pen. I let out a long breath and begin writing.

Your Royal Highness,

As you know, we are living in a time of war. I respect your decision to side with Britain but remain out of the war, as I know you respect my decision to fight. And although we are on opposing sides of the war, I am coming to you with a request, a plea. My country is in desperate need of money. My people are starving and dying, and I myself am not doing much better than they. If you don't believe me, I urge you to visit and view our conditions for yourself. All I am asking is for a small loan of between one thousand and two thousand dollars so I can afford to import my people more food. I can arrange for myself to come and collect the money, or send someone in my place should I not be able to come. Please bear in mind that I am in no way asking you to turn against Britain, or to join me. I am simply asking you that in my county's time of need, you can support your fellow kinsmen by sending us a small sum of just one thousand dollars. I thank you for your time and I respect your decision either way,

Sincerely, the Prince of New York,

Alexander Washington-Hamilton

I read over it, biting my lip. Yeah, I'm purposely being misleading, but not that manipulative. South Carolina are my enemies, and your enemies aren't going to loan you money to support your army. So if being misleading and just a little vague will get me the money I need to support my troops, then I will. Oh, you might be wondering, shouldn't Washington be writing this? Well, no. It's pretty much a fact that I run the war and the country, and the only thing stopping me from leading the whole country is my title. I run the vast majority of events in New York, my dad, aka the King, just really sits in the shadows and offers support and leads a few battles here and there. He'll probably step down when we win the war and let me take full control. I've proven to be an adept, skilled, and smart leader, and the people love me. That always matters. I feel confident that the King won't immediately dismiss my letter out of hand after reading it. I'm not pushing him into helping me, I'm offering him the choice. I just hope he chooses to help us. And I'm not completely lying, we are getting low on food and I can use left-over money to ship in some more from the Caribbean. But for now I'm just going to assume that he won't help. So the best thing I can do at the moment is to go send this letter and set up some recruiting stations.