Fair warning, this doesn't exactly line up with the historical timeline. The Hamilton's only have three kids. Philip, age 7. Angelica, or Angie, age 6. And Alexander Jr. Age 5. If it says 'Alex' that would be Alexander Hamilton, if it says 'Alexander' that would be Alexander Hamilton Jr. Later on, James and John, James is a year and John is still a baby. I don't own Hamilton.
Eliza pov:
"Mama! Mama!" my son Alexander came running up to me and began tugging at my skirts.
"Yes Alexander?"
'"Philip! He said he wants you!" Alexander grabs my hand and begins pulling me up the stairs of the rather small New York City townhouse. Well, small compared to my childhood home, the Pastures.
"Why can't he come to me? Why has he sent you?" I ask assuming it's some sort of game.
"Mama, don't you understand?" Alexander stops and pivots to face me. "He's thrown up, it's everywhere!" He rushes to open the door to the bedroom he shares with his brother.
Sure enough, Philip is lying on the floor, a pile of puke lie in front of him. Philip was shaking and crying. I can't stand the sight of my child lying on the wood floor in pain.
"Oh!" I rush to his side, careful not to get my skirts in the smelling mess. "Philip!" I help him sit up and pull a handkerchief from my pocket and wipe his mouth. Finally, I get him to stand and sit him on his bed. My son, he looks scared, like he doesn't understand what's happening. I stare into his bloodshot eyes. He seems distant. Like he can see something I can't. His face is red and warm.
"Philip?" I say. "PHILIP!" I snap my fingers in front of his face. He still does nothing. "PHILIP! PHILIP PLEASE!" I wave my hand in his eyes and place a shaky hand on his shoulder. "Philip baby, mama's here. You'll be fine. Please answer me! PHILIP!" I realize that these symptoms are all of...No! I think, It isn't Yellow Fever is it? It can't be! NO!
I look over at the doorway and see Alexander standing there shocked, eyes wide. "Alexander! Run to your father's office. Tell him Philip isn't well and that I need him. Don't talk to anyone on your way there. Only talk to people in the office if necessary. You understand?"
Alexander nodded and ran down the stairs. I look around the room and see I'm kneeling in the puke. It doesn't matter now. Philip needs help.
Alexander pov:
Mama told me to fetch for Father. She told me to run. So I'm running. Down the stairs and out the front door, yelling at Angelica, my older sister, to close it behind me. As I leave, I hear Mama scream.
I run as fast as my legs will allow. I carefully shove myself down the cold December New York City streets. I don't even realize that I didn't put my jacket on. I race down Broadway, across the carriage filled road, around the sharp corner onto La Salle, and then to Amsterdam. I feel my legs begin to tire. I don't dare stop. I sprint the rest of the way to father's office as soon as the building is in sight.
"Whoa! Slow down there Alexander!" I freeze.
"Mr. Burr?" I ask confused. "Why are you here?"
"Why could ask you that myself. Why were you running?" My father's friend asks.
"Philip. He's ill, Mama sent me to fetch father!" the color drains from Mr. Burr's face.
"Come along. I'll help you get there. I can get us a carriage back to your house." Mr. Burr takes my hand and we speed walk through the building. I wanted to run, Mama's scream still echoing in my ears. But Mr. Burr insisted on speed walking.
Alex's pov
"Papa! Papa!" A voice screams through the door of my office.
"Alexander?" I ask. I stand and open the door. "Burr! What are you doing with my son?" Burr drops his hand an I grab my son's shoulder and hold him closer to me.
"Alexander said-" Burr is interrupted with Alexander's screaming.
"Philip is sick! He's thrown up everywhere! Mama sent me to fetch you! She told me to run, I ran all the way here. She sounded scared Papa, she screamed awfully loud as I left the house." I felt all color drain from my face. Yellow Fever has been floating around this year. I already lost my mother to it. I am not going to lose my son too.
"Come on!" I grasp my son's hand as we bolt down the hall. "Thank you Aaron, you can leaves those plans on my desk!" I call over my shoulder.
When we make it outside we run into Mr. Jefferson.
"Alex! Why did you bring your son? I wasn't aware it was allowed." Jefferson smiled a deadly smile and blocked our path.
"Thomas please, my son is sick, Alexander ran all the way here to tell me and-"
"Oh no," Thomas said putting on a pouting face. "Alex has a meeting to go to, yet he wants to go home!"
"Thomas please, I won't be long," I try to slip past him but he's too quick.
"No, Alex, we have been debating this law for months! Today is its last valid day! You can't leave!" But I already ran the other way, Alexander at my heels. I somehow make it away from Thomas and down Amsterdam, I don't plan on stopping until i'm by Philip's side.
Eliza's pov
"PHILIP!" I scream again. He stirs slightly, but doesn't react. I have taken off his jacket and added more wood to the fire. I have forbidden Angelica from the room. She has always been close to Philip, I don't want her to see him in this state.
It feels like an eternity since I sent Alexander for Alex. I feel like crying, but I want to be strong in case Philip awakes from this trace. There are footsteps downstairs. I hear them race up stairs and freeze outside the closed door.
"Alexander, stay with your sister." Alex's voice comes from the other side of the door.
"ALEX!" I scream, my voice trembling. "ALEX PLEASE COME HERE!" The door flies open and Alex is at my side.
"PHILIP! PHILIP CAN YOU HEAR ME?" Alex screams, I let the first tear fall down my face. Alex shakes our son's shoulders. Violently actually.
"ALEX STOP!" I scream when he shakes them to hard his head flops around like a doll. My shoulders cave in and I lean into Alex. "Alex, what's wrong with him?" I ask between sobs.
Alex doesn't respond. He only looks at Philip, he examines his eyes and heart rate. He swallows, hard. His shoulders fall as well.
"No," I say my voice drowning in tears.
"I'm sorry Betsey, I think it is-"
"NO! It can't be. It isn't." I hide my face in Alex's chest. He holds me and I hold Philip. We both do.
Philip's pov
Mama and Papa are crying in front of me. I've never seen Papa cry. I don't feel well. My eyes hurt, I have a really bad headache, my stomach is floppy, I feel as though I should eat, but I don't feel hungry. My mouth has a funny taste.
"M-Mama?" I choke out.
Her head jolts up and away from Papa. "PHILIP! OH MY GOD! ARE YOU OKAY?" She pulls me into a tight hug.
"N-No. E-everything… -rts," I feel Papa's arms around me too.
"Philip, you need to rest. I know how you feel. I was this sick once." Papa says. Voice crumbling.
"O-okay," I try to lay down, but Mama is holding me too tight. "Mama," I say she sits up and lets go, slowly. I fall down on the mattress.
"C'mon Eliza." Papa stands and tries to help up Mama. "Eliza."
"I'm staying here. I'm not leaving his side." Mama persists.
"Eliza, you're just like your mother." Papa rolls his eyes.
"There is no shame in me wanting to sit with my sick son." She says running her fingers through my sweaty hair.
"Betsey, you mustn't stay, you'll get the fever too. I've had it, i'm pretty much immune, I'll stay." Papa says.
"No, I insist, don't you have a meeting?"
"No, it's over now." I know Papa is lying, I think Mama picked up on it.
"Go, disappear like you always do. It's fine. I can care for Angie and Alexander, and sick Philip, and the servants on my own, like always." Mama's voice goes dark.
"Eliza, is that how you really feel?"
Mama doesn't answer.
"Eliza, you should have told me. This country is new, there is still debate on whether or not our government system is strong enough or not. I try to be home more often, believe me. Things at work are busy. Even when I am home there is still work to be done."
"What happened to those days you promised to take off?" Mama says, obstinate. "You have only taken off for the children's births. What happened to Philip's birthday last week? We had made plans to go up and visit my parents, don't you remember?"
"Eliza, not now. Not with Philip in the room," Papa said, Mama only rolled her eyes and kept pressing him.
"You forgot haven't you! You don't even know your son is 7 now! We went up to the Pastures without you! When Mama asked where you were? I told her you were working, and couldn't come. But you never showed up. We had to go without you. When we came back, you never even wished him a Happy Birthday. HOW COULD YOU FORGET?" Mama screamed.
Papa was crying again, I heard Mama yelling more, but I don't know what she was saying. Everything went black, I can't see. Everything is cold. Mama is sweating is the warm room. But I am cold. I curl up. And everything goes quiet.
Alex's pov
Eliza is still yelling at me. I feel bad. It's true. I forgot Philip's birthday. How could I? I discussed going up to the Pastures with her the night before. When I got home the next night, I was working in my office, and fell asleep there. Eliza came and woke me up in the morning. I assumed they were there the whole time. I began to cry at my own selfishness and stupidity.
"Eliza." I bend down next to her. "Eliza. I-"
"I am well aware that I have accidentally set myself on fire." Eliza looked away from me. She watched Philip curl into a ball on his bed. She ran her fingers through his sweaty hair once more. "And it's none of your business. I don't want your pity water either." My Betsey turns to face me. My eyes locking with hers. "Let me burn in peace."
She turns back to Philip. I take a shaky breath and look at him too. I freeze.
Philip pov
I can see again. Am I... floating? I look around. My body lie on the bed. Mama still stroking my hair. Does she not know? Mama is yelling at Papa still. Papa looks at me. He freezes. He pushes past Mama gently and grabs my wrist. He trembles and drops it. He cries harder. Mama looks confused and places two fingers on my neck. Searching for a pulse. When she doesn't find one, she screams.
She screams loud, and clear. She isn't saying anything, only screaming. He throws herself onto of my lifeless body. Papa rubs her back and mourns too. I turn and see Aunt Peggy. She is with Mr. Burr's wife and a woman who looks like Papa. I turn and look at Mama and Papa one last time.
Someone grabs my wrist. It's Aunt Peggy. "Come darling. It's hard for all of us. Leaving when our loved ones are in this mourning state."
Aunt Peggy leads me into a blinding white light.
Alexander's pov
Mama screamed again. I heard her yelling at Papa. But when she screamed like this. I knew something was wrong. I raced up the stairs, I told Angie to stay down there. I open the door. "Alexander!" Papa says.
"Alexander go back down stairs!" Mama yelled. Not in an angry way.
"Eliza, he'll have to know sooner or later." Papa says.
"Find out what? What happened to Philip?" I ask, scared of the answer.
Mama and Papa look at each other. "You tell him" Mama said. She grabs Philip's wrist and sits next to him on the bed instead of kneeling like she was. She cries still. Papa stands and sits down on my bed which is on the other side of the room and gestures for me to follow. I sit next to him.
"Do you remember what we said happened to Aunt Peggy?"
"Yeah, you said she wouldn't be around anymore. Not Philip too."
Papa cries and holds me. "I'm afraid so Alexander."
"No!" I can't imagine being without my brother. He always looked out for me. What am I supposed to do now?
Angie pov (5 years later)
Papa said Philip was going away. He said he was going to be at Trinity Church if I wanted to talk. I've gone several times. But I can't find him. I asked Papa where. And he took me to a rock with his name engraved in it.
"No Papa! That's not Philip! That's a rock!" I laughed. My six year old self didn't understand the concept of death.
So I guess now, as I sit here writing in my journal, in the light of the moon, leaning against my late brother's headstone. I will talk to him. I have been so heartbroken. I was silent for almost a year. I had dreams of Philip and me. We would run through fields, or go on adventures. I miss him dearly. The pain is unbearable. I have always considered Philip more of my idle than a brother. There is no one else I would rather spend my time with than him.
I brought a blanket. I have many layers of petticoats on, yet I still feel cold. Even on this warm July night. I have never felt the same since Philip got sick. I've been stressed, trapped, and confused.
I see him now. He's with Aunt Peggy and a woman who looks very similar to Papa. I wonder what Mama will think when she awakes to find her daughter isn't in the house. I wonder if they will find me, lifeless on the ground. Sick, heartbroken. I wonder if they will read my journal, read what feelings have been overtaking me these last five years. If they do, I want them to know that I love them, and of this emotional mess that has trapped me.
None of them should take responsibility for my death, as I see Heaven now. Mama and Papa have prepared me for this moment, the one where I would be chosen. For Hell or Heaven.
Now it is time to say goodbye. Goodbye to the beautiful earth and all its inhabitants. Goodbye to Mama. Goodbye to Papa. Goodbye to Aunt Angelica. Goodbye to Papa Schuyler. Goodbye to Alexander Jr. Goodbye to baby James. And Goodbye to baby John.
Narrator
Angelica Hamilton died that night. No known cause. It could be grief, or maybe even the cold she caught after spending night after night at her brother's side. In the morning, Eliza was indeed scared to see her daughter wasn't in her bed. She had run to Alex's office to tell him. They searched until they calmed a bit and decided to think. They thought of where she might be. When they got to the cemetery. They saw there second dead child.
Eliza ran over to her daughter and tried to shake her awake. She saw her red face turning purple and cried over her daughter's passing.
The original 7 Hamiltons were down to 6.