Character(s): Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, Elijah Hamilton/Jefferson, Maria Reynolds, Elizabeth Schuyler
Description:
Thomas Jefferson has a son. A son that really wasn’t his, but he treated him like his own - until he just couldn’t act like it anymore. When his son asks to meet his parents, it’s up to Thomas to find them and figure everything out - but what do you do when the real father of your child is a complete jackass?
Thomas Jefferson had a son.
Elijah Jefferson - he had found him when he was only a baby on his porch step after he came home from work. Elijah had been sitting in a box with a little note in it with the name ‘Maria Reynolds.’ He took the child into his house and had wrapped him up in a blanket. At first, he grabbed his phone and proceeded to type in 911, but he paused when he looked down at the kid.
Bright silver eyes looked back at him, and suddenly the kid put his hands in the air, making grabby hands at him. It was at this moment that the tall man realized he just couldn’t let this kid go.
Thomas had raised two other kids before he and his ex-wife split up, and he had extra baby supplies around the house.
So instead of telling anyone, he took the child in as his own.
Raising a child without Martha to help him actually proved to be rather difficult. Many nights he couldn’t sleep because Elijah would just cry and cry, forcing Thomas to wake up and rock the child back to sleep. He warmed bottles in a pot of water on the stove, nearly dropping Elijah when he burnt himself almost every single time. He also always had to keep Elijah occupied or the small boy would start to scream and cry.
What was terrible though, was that Thomas had to take him to work with him a lot while he was growing up. His co-workers had looked at him weirdly when he did, but he always ignored them and brought Elijah into his office. There, he would spend the day doing paper work while his child would play with his toys.
The first time he brought him to work, he didn’t have enough time to get a babysitter, so he was forced to dig out the car seat from the back of his closet and put his kid in it - making him late for work. When he showed up, his friend James went to yell at him but nearly fainted at the sight of a child in Thomas’ arms.
“Why do you have a child?! Doesn’t Martha have custody of all of the kids?” Jemmy had cried, opening and closing his hands as he tried to figure everything out.
Thomas winced and sighed. “I found him. On my porch.”
James’ jaw dropped. “You took a child?!”
Feeling shame rise in his chest, Thomas slowly nodded, looking down at the ground. A silence tell between them, thick and heavy, the only sounds between the two were Elijah’s little giggles.
When James sighed, the tall man finally looked back it. The sickly man had a small smile on his face, and he was playing with Elijah’s hand.
“How long have you been hiding him?”
“Almost three months now.”
And after that, James was there to help him. He made sure that Elijah was healthy and that Thomas wasn’t going to get himself killed over this kid - he even took Elijah on some nights so Thomas could get some more sleep.
As the boy grew, Thomas couldn’t help but notice the changes in him. Elijah had come to him as a pale, silver eyes child. He was now tan, with curly brown hair, freckles and dark chestnut eyes that filled with happiness and an intelligence that seemed to ooze out of him. The boy slowly became a thinker, an artist - being homeschooled, Elijah always had a pencil in his hand, always writing or drawing. He read books from sunrise to sundown, finishing almost three a day if he didn’t pause to eat or talk to his dad. Some days, he would just spend the day telling his dad facts that he learned from his history and science books, and Thomas would gladly listen.
Elijah slowly became more and more confident, entitled to his opinions, unafraid to speak out. If he heard someone say something wrong when he was out with his dad, he did not hesitate to turn around and shut them down with cold, hard facts. He debated with his own father at every moment of the day, the two of them playfully jabbing at each other, and he had a fire in his eyes when he spoke that Thomas loved with all of his heart.
And to Thomas’ surprise, the boy had just turned fifteen years old today.
It was weird. Fifteen years had already passed by, but it felt like it was only a few days ago that he was a lonely, divorced, confused twenty two year old with a random kid on his porch.
Walking down the hall to his apartment door, he yawned quietly as he pulled out his keys, unlocking his door. Pushing it open he nearly gasped at the loud rock music echoing through the room. Silently, he thanked whoever built this building for putting in sound proof wall’s before stepping inside.
Thomas moved out of the hallway and into the kitchen - which was a mess. Rolling his eyes, he chose to ignore that Elijah didn’t do his chores, walking over to the fridge. He pulled it open, taking the big blue cake out that he made for his son yesterday.
Pushing a few plates off of the counter and into the sink, he placed the cake on the nesly free spot on the counter and stared down at it proudly. Written in white letters was “Happy Birthday Elijah”. He had spent all night on it and honestly, he felt really good about it.
When the music cut off abruptly, Thomas turned around just in time to watch his son walk out of his room and into the kitchen. Elijah yawned, pulling his already-too-tight hoodie tighter around him as he walked over and sat down at the island.
“Hey dad.” He mumbled, resting his cheek in his hand. His eyes fluttered close for a moment and Thomas couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his sleepy son. Turning around, he quickly grabbed the cake and dropped it down in front of Eli, scaring him awake from the sound.
“Happy birthday!” Thomas cried, making his son grin brightly.
Elijah slowly pulled the cake towards him, reading it, before looking up at his dad. After a moment, his smile fell and he pushed it away from him.
A little worried, the tall man blinked. “Are you okay?”
Shaking his head, the young boy slowly set his head on the counter. Reaching forward, Thomas ran his hand through his hair, gently pushing the cake away from them.
A minute passed before Elijah looked back up, making Thomas remove his hands from his head.
“You know that one art piece that I named "hurricane”?“ Elijah asked, earning a nod from the taller man. "There was this contest at school for artists, and I won. It was chosen to be placed in an art museum.”
Thomas gasped, standing up straight. “What?! That’s amazing!” He shouted, laughing happily. He was proud of his son, proud that his work was good enough to be in a museum. Pausing, his smile faltered. “Why are you so sad about that?”
The younger boy laughed hollowly, leaning back in his seat. He stared forward, past Thomas, with a blank look in his eyes. “That’s not why I’m sad.”
“I want to meet my real parents.”
