There are times Alexander Hamilton had felt something weird when his son, Philip Hamilton was present. He had that old feeling he got from years ago, but his mind can't point to what it was. Honestly, he had spent so much times thinking and writing about this, and sometimes, he hasn't found the answer. Actually, he never found the answer. Was his son in love with Theodosia? Was his son a murderer? Was his son a secret spy of Thomas Jefferson? Those thought kept him insane, even he can't tell Eliza Hamilton on these thoughts. He would look idiotic and crazy, and he would probably be brought to the hospital.
Something about Philip gave him the chills. Was it his brave actions he does for the Hamilton family? Was it his poetic skills? No, that wasn't it. His personality isn't something that brings a thought up. Though, his attention was caught when his fighting spirit was glowing and strong, something he has seen before. No, not from Philip, but someone else.. He can't point out who,
Philip's face is the bigger question. His face had the mix of Alexander himself, and Eliza herself. So what was the big deal? No, his son wasn't ugly. It just had some features which had triggered him and caught his attention. His wavy long hair meant something, his bright smile, his million freckles, it all stood out for Alexander. There was something about it, though; those features reminded him of someone.. Someone he knew before.
Yet, his mind couldn't puzzle this out.
So, Alexander decided to talk with his son about these weird concerns he had. He told his son to meet him back at home and they would talk about this in the dining table. And so, he was there, at one side of the table, and Philip on another. Eyes met with each other in the dining table, and Philip's were definitely filled with confusion.
"Dad?" Philip called for his attention, concerned, "Is there something you want to talk about?" He asked, placed his hands on the table. Alexander nodded, observing his son's movements. He looked at his son from bottom to top, making Philip feel scared for a second.
"Dad, you're acting weird, are you sick?" Asked Philip, "I can grab you a drink of San Adams if you're up to it," he gave a crooked smirk, wiggling his eyebrows. Alexander looked at the bottle he presented, and shook his head, disapproving of his son's addiction to it.
"Did you get another special someone on your side, father?" Asked Philip, his smirk widening into a weird smile. Philip was definitely getting closer. Alexander pushed back, shaking his head, all of this seems so familiar..
And that's where it all snapped.
"Philip, have I told you about a young soldier by the name of John Laurens?" Asked Alexander, standing up to scoot Philip back to his place. Philip winced, but shook his head. His smirk has faded and he was filled with curiosity. Alexander sighed, grabbing his bottle of San Adams and placing it on the shelves. "Well, he was a fine man who fought alongside your father," he posed dramatically, hopefully getting Philip's attention.
Philip had to be him.
He needed to be him.
John Laurens was Alexander's close friend, his buddy, someone who would sacrifice anything for Alexander. Philip's eyes, hair, face, actions, everything matched John Laurens. Did he reincarnate? Did he rise from the dead?
Was he given another chance?
"We wrote essays against slavery," he smiled weakly at Philip, who got interested at the topic quickly, "And he went into a gun duel with a soldier, and he won." He couldn't help but laugh a bit because of Charles Lee, the shot general. "He was then sent to South Carolina, and he fought bravely." His smile slowly faded into a frown. He opened the drawer next to him which contained some stacks of papers, and he grabbed the most recent paper. It was a letter for him from Laurens. "He had died, though." He sadly spoke, and Philip nodded, understanding.
"Philip, it's weird," he had placed the letter down, "Don't take me as crazy, but you look like him, it kind of convinces me that you are him," he let out a nervous chuckle, "Your eyes, your freckles, your hair, your movements, your pride, it all points to John Laurens." He had placed his hands in his jacket pockets, looking at Philip. "But then, reincarnation is crazy insane, probably doesn't exist." He hold told him and shrugged.
Philip then gave a wide smirk, and he placed his pointing finger on his mouth, whispering a slight 'sh'. Alexander's eyes widened as he stared at his son.
"Hamilton," Philip called out in another tone, "Be quiet."