Please, could you write a n Elams fandic? Where like Eliza's pregnant?
Sorry for being inactive on this blog, I haven’t been into Hamilton and the fandom all that much lately, so after this request, the blog will pretty much be dead. I’ll close the inbox for asks and submissions, but I’ll still keep the blog up for viewing stuff.
“How long have you known?”
“A month or so.”
“Eliza, you should’ve told me.”
Alex stared at her belly. It wasn’t obvious yet at only one month, but he knew that within some months, it would grow with the child inside. Eliza placed her hand on his cheek as he began to cry, crying in joy that he’d be a father, crying in sorrow that he’d been willing to die before he met his child.
“I’m not sorry,” she whispered, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “I only asked General Washington to keep you and John alive, so that you’d both get to meet them once you finished fighting.”
“But if you told us, we would’ve come straight back,” he insisted.
Eliza shook her head, smiling, as if laughing at the thought. “No, you wouldn’t. Both of you would’ve stayed in the war until it ended.” She sighed, her smile fading slightly. “He’s still there, isn’t he?”
Alex nodded. “He insisted on returning with me, but I told him to stay. I was the one who disrespected the General, not him.”
Eliza sat down, placing a slender hand on her belly. “Well, he’s strong. I know he’ll be back to meet our baby.” She looked up at Alexander, who was staring at the floor, clearly deep in thought. “Alexander, what’s wrong?”
“What if… what if we’re not– what if I’m not a good father?” he asked quietly, turning away.
“No, don’t say that!” She stood up to comfort him, but he only pulled away.
“Betsey, my father, he–” He hesitated, gulping, before continuing. “My father left when I was ten and I almost never heard from him again, I don’t want our child to suffer like I did.”
“And they won’t. You’re going to be a great father, both you and John, I already know it.”
It felt as if she held him to high standards, and he was determined to meet them. He took her hands in his as he knelt down in front of her. “Betsey, I promise, I’ll stay here by your side and help you in any way I can until Jacky returns, and we can raise the child together.”
Alexander stared at the letter in his shaky hands, reading it over for the hundredth time. He blinked, as if it would change the words on the paper. Of course, it didn’t.
“What does it say?”
He turned to his wife, who was sitting on the couch, sewing.
He placed the letter back down on the desk, taking off his glasses. “It’s unimportant,” he answered, waving his hand.
Eliza rolled her eyes. “If it were unimportant, you wouldn’t have stayed quiet about it for this long,” she told him with a smirk.
The words were caught in his throat, and he couldn’t bring his eyes to hers as he told her the truth. “General Washington, he… he requests that I return to fight. He says that they need me.”
He heard the soft footsteps of his wife as she came closer. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. Her dark eyes were filled with grief, but she smiled. “Go,” she said quietly yet firmly.
He looked to her in shock. “But I promised you that I’d stay here by your side, I-I can’t leave you, not now!”
“Alexander, go,” she insisted. “General Washington needs you, John needs you.”
John! Alexander hadn’t realized that it had been a few months since last saw the other love of his life. They may not have been formally united like he was with Eliza, as a pair like theirs would have been looked down upon in their society, but their bond mattered just as much as Alexander’s bond with Eliza.
He looked to her belly, which had grown in the few months he had stayed. To think it had been so small when he first came! He gently touched it, almost afraid to, in fact. With his other hand, he took one of hers as he slowly stood up.
“I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”
“John!! John!!”
The man turned around as he held the horse’s reins in his hand, his curls bouncing a bit. “What is it, Alexander?” he asked, his tone a bit impatient. “The troop is about ready to leave for South Carolina.”
Alexander ran up to him with a grin. “I only came to bid you farewell, and good luck.”
John smiled back. “Good luck to you as well,” he replied, saluting him a bit. “Lead your men well.”
They embraced tightly, Alexander whispering into his ear. “Eliza is pregnant,” he said. “Just thought you needed to know.”
John pulled away slowly, his mouth open in shock. “You mean… you’ll be a father?” he asked with disbelief and happiness.
“We’ll be fathers, John,” Alexander corrected him. “The child is yours as much as they are Eliza’s and mine.”
John couldn’t contain his joy, laughing softly and pulling Alex in for another hug. “Then this child is another reason we have to win,” he said as he pulled away once again.
Alex nodded, patting his back. “When we win, our child will be able to tell the future the story of tonight and how we earned our freedom.”
“Laurens!”
John turned to the voice, then back to Alex. “I have to leave now,” he said, mounting the horse. “Godspeed, Hamilton!” he called out as he began to leave the camp.
“Godspeed, Laurens!” He watched for a moment longer, before returning back to General Washington’s tent to discuss a plan for their battle at Yorktown.
Alexander sat at his desk, writing. It was over seven months since the birth of his son, Philip Hamilton, and he continued to eagerly await for John’s arrival.
“Alexander?” Eliza came into the room, but he didn’t bother to look up from his work. “There’s a letter for you.”
He only shrugged. “It’s from John, I’ll read it later.” The letters he had been receiving had mostly been John excitedly writing how he couldn’t wait to return and live a calmer, peaceful life with him and Eliza after the excitement and terrors of war.
“No, it’s from his father.”
He stopped writing. “His father?” He knew John had a strained relationship with his father. Why would the man write to him? “Will you read it?”
A moment’s pause.
“ ‘On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regiment. His dream of freedom for these men dies with him.’ ” Her voice cracked slightly as she read the letter.
A moment’s silence.
“Alexander, are you all right?”
Thoughts swarmed his head loudly as he sat frozen at his desk. The words “John” and “killed” buzzed madly in his brain, almost unable to believe it. He couldn’t be dead, not after everything they went through, not after everything they had.
He thought back to the letters they exchanged. The letters where he gave John hope that he could raise Philip alongside them. The letters he sent describing how amazing the boy was. The letters he wrote saying how much of John he saw of Philip.
He thought to John’s letters, his responses to the descriptions of Philip. John’s letters, that read of eagerness to meet him. John’s letters, writing of his hopes to be a father to the boy as much as Alex was.
And he thought of how he never would be.
Quietly, he turned to the stacks of paper on his desk. No, he couldn’t think of John any longer. “I have so much work to do.”
And he continued to write, ignoring the ache he felt in his heart.
