Historical Hamilton Oneshots

If Only That Were True-No Ship

A/N: so, it's been a while since I've updated, and by that I mean like two months. I haven't abandoned this, I'm just working on a bunch of things at once, so expect updates to be very slow. I am also working on a part two for Bad Idea, but for now have this because my writer's block wouldn't let me write anything else. 

John's POV

"Jack!" a high-pitched, familiar voice shrieked, and John glanced up from his book to see his five-year-old brother sprinting towards him on spindly legs. James-or Jemmy, as most people called him-skidded to a stop when he reached John and bowed his head as he struggled to catch his breath. 

"Hi, Jemmy," John greeted him, setting down The Iliad on the grass next to him and smiling sweetly at his brother. "What have you been up to today?"

"Father and I went on a tour of my new school!" Jemmy babbled, collapsing down in the shade of the tree John leaned against and crossing one leg over the other. "It's going to be so fun!"

"That's great!" exclaimed John. "I'm happy for you, Jem."

Jemmy gestured to John's book, tracing a finger over the smooth leather cover. "What book are you reading? What's it about?"

"It's called The Iliad," John explained, thinking fondly of  Achilles and Patroclus's obvious love for each other and how it reminded him of the way he and Francis Kinloch had taken so long to figure out that what they felt for each other was not merely platonic. He didn't share this with Jemmy, though, for as far as his brother knew, John and Francis were nothing more than close friends. John didn't plan on telling Jemmy, either, lest his talkative brother spill the beans to their father. That would be it for John and Francis. "It's about a war in Ancient Greece called the Trojan War, and the main characters are these people named Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Hector, Menelaus......there are a lot more, but I'm sure you don't want to hear about all of them."

"They fought in a war?" questioned Jemmy, eyes widening when John nodded. 

The two brothers fell silent, lost in their own thoughts and admiring the beauty of the spring afternoon. The golden rays of the sun stretched along the impossibly blue sky, making the scenery down below that much brighter. Branches of the tree John leaned against stretched out above his head, blossoming with lush green leaves and glistening red fruit.  

"Do you think there's going to be a war here, Jack?" Jemmy's quivering voice asked suddenly, barely above a whisper.

John turned to his brother in surprise, heart breaking when he saw the fear etched into Jemmy's face. The little boy's eyes, crystal blue like his brother's, brimmed with tears, and his lower lip trembled as if at any moment, he would burst into tears. 

"Why do you say that?" asked John, placing a comforting hand on Jemmy shoulder. 

"Because," Jemmy murmured, "Father talks about war a lot when his boring friends come over. They always talk about mean people in England who are making us spend a lot of money, and that we might have a war because of it. I'm worried that we will, and people we'll die."

A miniature war seemed to rage in John's own mind as he contemplated what to say. He didn't want to lie to Jemmy and tell him everything would be okay; adults had told John that far too often when things were obviously not okay at all, and his fears ended up coming true anyway. On the other hand, how could he explain to his innocent little brother, barely five years of age, that a war was in fact very likely, almost inevitable?

"There might be a war, Jemmy," John finally said. "I don't know for sure. But if we win the war, it would make our lives so much better."

"But what if we lose?" the little boy demanded, the tears he'd been fighting so hard to hold back finally spilling over and rolling down his chubby cheeks. "What if we lose and.....and people die?" He buried his head in John's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably and seeming so sad that John felt tears prick his own eyes. "I don't want to die, Jack."

  Those words completely shattered John's heart, and he pulled his little brother into a hug. "Don't worry, Jemmy," he murmured, "I'll always protect you."

"Promise?" Jemmy pulled away and stared up at John with big, solemn eyes.

"Promise."

Had it been John receiving such a promise, he wouldn't have believed it for a second. But Jemmy was young and therefore willing to believe the words of anyone older than him, so John wasn't the least bit surprised when Jemmy immediately perked up, drying his tears with his shirtsleeve and wriggling out of John's embrace. He stood, brushed off his breeches, and smiled tentatively at his older brother. "Okay. Now let's play a game." He reached down and tapped John on the head. "You're 'it'! Can't catch me!" 

He ran off, giggling as he began zipping towards the field. John rose from his spot next to the apple tree and dashed after him, thanking the lord above for making little children forget things so easily. Thanks to his short attention span, Jemmy had already forgotten his worries of the war and the promise his brother had made.

John hadn't, though, and he didn't intend to. He would keep that promise, whatever it took. Unlike Eleanor, Ann Elizabeth, Henri, Nelly, Elias, Samuel, and all the other siblings John had lost over the course of his life, Jemmy would grow up to be an adult, and become whatever he wanted to be. His future lay ahead of him, brighter than the sun glowing in the sky, and nothing could possibly get in the way of that.

~~~~~~

John stared in horror at the lifeless body in his arms, ears ringing with the final words to ever escape his brother's lips and the horrible shuddering breath that had become his last. Jemmy's puppy-dog blue eyes were vacant and fixed on the cloudy sky above, and despite his shock, John reached out a trembling hand and closed them. After that, though, the only thing he could do was gape at his brother, who'd once been so full of life and now no longer had a life at all. 

A single drop of blood slid down the side of Jemmy's head and onto a blade of grass, joining the sea of deep red liquid that framed Jemmy's head like a crown. His blonde hair was drenched in both that and sweat, and there were even more drops of it speckled across his forehead, cheeks, and lips. The sight of it made his death seem that much more real, and John completely broke down, a loud wail so horrible emitting from deep down in his throat that didn't even sound human. Bitter tears sooned joined the blood speckling the grass as John wept for his brother, remembering the promise he'd made so long ago and failed to keep.  

I'll always protect you, Jemmy.

If only that were true.