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“Yeah, well someone oughta remind you.” Jefferson cocked his head, pointing at Hamilton as he took a menacing step towards him. Hamilton tilted his head up to make eye contact while fixing his coat in a (failed) attempt to size him up.
“What?” The younger glared, the singular word spoken through gritted teeth.
“You’re nothing without Washington behind you.” Jefferson continued, the harsh words hitting Alexander right in the heart. It sent a deluge of hurt down the cordage of his nervous system. A look of agitation flashing across his face. You could practically hear a pin drop through the beat of silence that filled the room.
The tense sound of silence was swiftly broken by the creak of old wooden floorboards as, speak of the devil and he shall appear, George Washington walked into the hallway outside of the meeting room where the two were standing.
“Hamilton?” The General called out firmly before Thomas said something that made Hamilton face drop, void of any emotion other than poorly masked anguish.
“Daddy's calling.” He smirked, nodding over at the man in the dark uniform that was standing at the door.
Hamilton's father was never around, he hadn’t been so aware of what he was missing until he left his home in the Caribbean to immigrate to America, he was so used to being alone he didn’t notice the part of him that longed for a father figure; he didn’t notice the part of him that had never been satisfied. Over time he had forgotten what it was like to be cared for. That was, of course, until he stepped foot on American soil for the first time.
With every ‘kid!’ Or ‘son!’ That was used to refer to him, a pang of grief filled his body, grief for something he’d never known, and Alexander grew more and more hyper-aware of the void within him. And though these terms weren’t ever exactly intended with any care or affection; they were just words! like simple honorifics; it made him feel like a deer in headlights. It was almost embarrassing how his breath caught in his throat whenever it happened. Hell, he even had to take a second when that fool Aaron Burr had called him kid the day they first met back in 1776. And the moment Washington casually uttered the word ‘son’ in conversation, he knew he was through when he was unable to hide the small smile that cracked on his lips. Washington had furrowed his eyebrows for a second before the corner of his own lips turned up as the conversation continued.
Ever since that interaction, Hamilton's world turned upside down, …except in a good way. The two grew close, Washington became softer in the presence of Hamlton (much to the absolute shock of John Adams and the rest of the revolutionary set), he had grown fond of the younger, and to the dismay of Hamilton himself, protective.
There were ups and downs between the two. Hamilton was mad when Washington refused to let him fight and kept him tied to a desk with a quill and ink. Copious arguments had ensued, each one ending with Washington’s loud voice yelling some form of ‘Son I am only trying to protect you!’ Echoing throughout his office shocking Hamilton into stillness. The day he had finally let Alexander fight among his men he had become consumed by dread, a sense of impending doom on his conscience, but he knew it had to happen. But when he saw Hamilton's tactical brilliance with his own eyes on the battlefield? He was filled with pride, no, not pride, something more. Pride wasn’t the word he was looking for. Hamilton, his Alex, oh how he was so strong.
Hamilton spent a lot of time in Washington’s office over the years; sitting on the couch that was against the wall beside his desk, the warm light from the candles lit on the metal tray dimly illuminating the room as Washington worked through files and read through letters, listening absent mindedly while Hamilton ranted about his many annoyances. The president would let out a small hum every so often to let the other know he was still listening, glancing up with a soft smile when he saw Alex’s frenzied gesticulation and concentration on his complaints.
Hundreds of thoughts filled his mind when he looked at Alexander; but the one that caught his attention the most?
‘This boy really is my son.’
Rewind
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“Hamilton?” The General called out firmly before Thomas said something that made Hamilton face drop, void of any emotion other than poorly masked anguish.
“Daddy's calling.” He smirked, nodding over at the man in the dark uniform that was standing at the door.
Hamilton quickly broke out of his strayed train of thought, his eyes dragged up and down Jefferson’s silhouette, reluctantly turning in place before he followed his General through the doorway, the sound of Burr’s voice joining Jefferson’s reached his ears right as the door slammed closed behind them.
Alex hastened in suit with Washington. He had not looked back at Hamilton, he simply stood gazing out of the Georgian style sash window while he adjusted the cuffs of his linen shirt.
“Sir! Did you hear what he said‽” Hamilton exclaimed, gesturing back at the door “Don’t you think he was out of line!”
Washington raised his left hand to shush Hamilton, “Alex, you must learn to ignore Jefferson.” His level words caused a staggered gasp to fall from Alexander's lips.
“Ignore him?” He stuttered in disbelief, “You wish for me to ignore him, sir?”
“Yes, Hamilton. I do.” He retorted, his face stern, cutting the end of Hamilton’s sentence off.
The room fell quiet for just a second as Hamilton absorbed the firm tone of Washington’s voice, one he hadn’t heard since the last time he was denied an opportunity to fight.
Washington turned away from the window and made his way across the room to stand before Hamilton, towering almost a head taller over him. Their eyes locked on each overs, Hamiton’s wider and almost appearing youthful in comparison to the General’s authoritative glower that reminded him of the older’s position of power; Washington may be the closest thing he has to family, but he was still his commander.
The president's face softened when he looked down at the man. They stood still in the moment. Washington broke the tense eye contact with a sigh and a click of his tongue. The way Alex looked up at him, awaiting his next sentence, the thinly veiled desperation on his face, just waiting for some sort of reassurance from him. It broke his heart, Jefferson’s words had clearly done more than anger him, it had hurt him.
“You can not let your enemies get to you Alexander. That is Jefferson’s entire objective. Break you down so he can rearrange the pieces exactly how he pleases!” Washington hissed.
“Do you believe it?” Hamilton spoke quietly.
“Do I believe it?” Washington repeated “Do I believe what, son?”
Pained, Hamilton asked through a thick blanket of a life-long self hatred he could never seem to shake, “Do you agree with Jefferson, Sir? Am I really nothing without you?”
He looked at Hamilton in shock, there’s no way he thought Washington would agree with something like that. The fact that that even crossed his mind had the dislike he held for Jefferson multiplying.
Washington’s hands found a place on his shoulders as he looked down at the boy, a compassionate look on his face. The grip on Hamilton's shoulders was firm but grounding. It brought Hamilton right back down to earth; he could feel the heat radiating from the General’s body, a soothing and familiar presence. The sound of merely his voice comforted him when he spoke.
“You are your own man, son. I have been here for you, of course, but you fought this war yourself. You pulled the trigger, you wrote the essays, you worked hard, you dealt with the pain.” He removed a hand to point loosely at the other, “And that is enough. It was enough for our nation and it was enough for me. Look at where you are. Look at where you started. The fact that you’re alive is a miracle, I am so proud of that. You have come so far, Alex, you are everything. I am the one who is nothing without you.”
Washington’s speech dragged on, Hamilton blinked away at the growing redness of his sullen eyes. The first man he truly loved, the father he never had. George Washington.
“If we had never met you would still rise to the top, though if I had never met you, I wouldn’t have made it this far.” He spoke, each word punctuated with raw emotion and honesty that pushed Hamilton further into his delusion of Washington's fatherly nature. Or was it ever really a delusion?
“My son.” Washington’s hands moved from his shoulders to hold either side of the younger's face, admiring how the age on his face was so different from the day they first met. God, it had been so long. Washington had been blessed with this boy and he knew it, he couldn’t imagine living this life without him. But when he tried? He saw nothing. His head tilted with pure love for Hamilton in his eyes, a smile grew on his lips. “You’ve blown me away.”
It was a tender moment, one that would never be recorded in the history books. Washington pulled him in with a bittersweet laugh and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, Alexander’s arms around his waist and his head rested against his shoulder. The two stood like this for a few minutes, or maybe longer, who knows, it was safe. Hamilton wanted to stay there for just a little longer, to imagine their own vine and fig tree, a moment alone in the shade, where there is calm. Safe in this nation they’ve made.
Yeah. It was nice to have Washington by his side.
[END SCENE]