A-N : Just a short drabble, as per usual I do not own Turn, Night at the Museum, or the historical characters referenced.
For some reason, the curators and the guards all neglected to inform Major Tallmadge that his brother would be a new edition to the museum collection. Not the real thing, he was unfortunately laid to rest in the bottom of the New York Harbor – and Ben didn't like to dwell long on what had happened to the boy when he was first placed there. Caleb had often consoled him with the reminder that it wasn't a bad resting place, he was in good company with other Patriots. Still. There had been a construction project, an edition being made to the Birth of Our Nation exhibit and instructions that they were not to tamper with it. Pointed looks at all of the usual trouble-making suspects.
Now Benjamin was holding a trembling, hyperventilating Samuel in his arms and trying to talk the poor boy out of a blind panic. It had been him, shackles and all that was behind the new project. A matte painting of the Jersey with wrapped bodies being dumped over the side and a swarm of other boats and ships around the hulk. Sammy was placed on a stand in front, wrists cuffed, clothes worn and ripped. He was bare footed with dark circles under his eyes skin sallow and hair dirty. And when he had woken up for the first time, moments after the others in the room, he had screamed.
It was a sound that made Patriots and Regulars alike jump for their weapons and spin around in search of who it was being tortured. They saw a newcomer ripping frantically at his metal cuffs, his chest heaving with panting breaths and eyes so large they could have been dinner plates. All around the room, there was a pause, Benjamin and Caleb paled themselves and then dropping their muskets with a clatter were the first off their stands and across the short space.
Ben reached him first. Samuel had dropped to the floor and his hands were fumbling too much to uncuff himself. "Sammy." The Major's voice was a low murmur. He held his brother's face, brushed his matted hair back and tried to get the boy to look at him. "Samuel, Sammy. Hey, look at me."
Caleb chased the others out of the room, especially the Regulars. All of them departed with pitying backward glances.
Like he didn't realize there was anyone else with him, and perhaps he hadn't, the youngest Tallmadge threw himself backward and raised his hands as to ward off a beating. Benjamin followed though, himself too panicked and worried to think about what he was doing besides just getting through to the boy. He pulled the younger brother closer, wrapped his arms tighter and rocked him like Samuel was a child again.
Finally, the wide blue eyes turned upwards and when they met his own there was a beat and then Ben's arms were full of his trembling younger brother. The chain linking his hands didn't allow Sammy to hug him in return but he pressed close to make up for that. "Sammy I'm so sorry. So sorry. I didn't know, they didn't tell me you were coming."
Samuel opened his eyes and took in the room that could be seen from his position. Brightly lit, empty of people but with a speaker's podium, halls that led off in other directions, paintings, murals, plaques of some sort and little mock-ups of fences or buildings. He felt his chest tightening. "What's this?"
Was this a new kind of torment? Were they both captured? Where was the ship, he knew that he was on a ship. He…he even remembered that … "Benjamin…I think I died."
Ben froze, his grip loosened and then he tightened his hold. Well, it would have come up some time or another. "We all did. A long time ago. We won though. Welcome to the future Sammy, it's the twenty-first century."
"We won?"
"Yeah, we did. We built a whole new country, would you like to see it?"
