Before you read this story, do know that I love taking requests. Provided that it can be contained in a summary of seven words or less. For example, this chapter's idea was merely "Philip has an imaginary friend." I'd love to hear fun history facts as well. And I'm not objected to any ships or AU, but I'd rather that'd be mentioned last, after the plot.

That was a mouthful, so just enjoy!

This Chapter:

Rated T for morality realizations and like, one line that implies something adult?

Ships are LAMS and Hamliza.

Eliza had always been a heavy sleeper, Alexander noticed. As the night fell, her breathing slowed down until it was quiet snoring. Alexander's heart pounded as he left the bed they shared to head to the study. After all, his plan for an entire nation was more important than getting a little sleep. No matter how much a break seemed to become a better idea by the minute, this plan had to go through. He lit the candle sitting on the bedside. Candlelight illuminated Eliza's peaceful expression. Alexander smiled softly before opening the bedroom door.

He shambled through the silent hallways, holding the candle to light his way. Paintings and writings on the wall were passed by as he walked. He only stopped when he almost lost his step over a loose wooden floorboard. He stared at the full moon outside his window, free of any clouds. That's when he heard his son singing a familiar tune from his revolutionary days. Eliza had taught him the little tunes soldiers would cry before running into battle in the form of lullabies. But it somehow sounded like another voice was singing along. Alexander shook his head in disbelief. He noticed Philip never seemed to go to sleep, he was just like him in that way. He decided to keep Eliza out of this for once and opened the door.

Philip looked up, startled by the door's squeaking as it opened. "Little late, isn't it?" Alexander asked, sitting next to him. Philip kept his eyes on the floor, twiddling his thumbs. He pouted a little. "My poor son, he's gone mute," Alexander joked. "So why's my little sunshine still up?"

Philip shrugged. "You're up too. Ma says sleep is good for you." Alexander struggled not to laugh. Ever since he could talk, he would always show Alexander's outspoken nature and his knack for debating. Alexander stared at him, waiting for further explanation. Philip sighed. "Besides, my friend says he can only talk to me at night." Alexander faltered. It seemed he wouldn't be able to work tonight. Eliza would have his head if he didn't question Philip further. "Philip, what friend?" he said.

Philip smiled. "He's my imaginary friend, and he says he was your best friend too!" Alexander was still convinced that Philip made up this imaginary friend until he kept talking. "He was a brave soldier, weren't you?" Philip stopped to stare at a wall, almost as if it would answer his question. "...He says I should stop talking. That I would only make you more upset," Philip said.

Alexander felt tears sting at his eyes. That was usually what happened when he got frustrated, and it would especially happen when he was tired. "No, keep talking. Who is he?"

Philip looked back and forth between the wall and Alexander's face. "He says you've changed." Philip said. It felt like Alexander was being taunted. "I don't know why, because you're still the best Pa I know. Please don't get mad at me. John says he doesn't like seeing you upset." Alexander felt a lump in his throat. That wasn't a name he heard in a long time. It couldn't actually be him, right? His emotions seemed to be fighting among themselves, bringing up an internal fight he abandoned a while ago. He wanted to be angry at Laurens for not joining him in Congress, he wanted to lock himself up and finally face the grieving cycle after ignoring his feelings for so long, but he didn't want his memories of him to fade after he would move on.

He needed to remember those nights. Nights spent in taverns, trying to impress girls and bartenders alike. Nights spent in the humid South, redefining what it meant to be loyal as Loyalists and British soldiers assaulted them. Nights spent in a tent, when the work had gotten to the both of them and they would exchange a look that meant nothing to anyone else.

Alexander stumbled over his words until he created a cohesive statement. "Philip, can you tell me more? Please." He seemed to stress the last word with a force he only used when necessary.

Philip hugged his father, looking up at him. "He said he's so proud of what you've done for this country already. He said that I'm going to be just like you and that he's so happy to be by your side. See, he's smiling." Philip smiled back at the wall, his eyes creasing. Alexander loved and hated how much he looked like Laurens, though he would never express the latter.

"Laurens, can I see you?" Alexander said under his breath. And like that, the dust and ash particles in the room seemed to form into a human shape, the form now having mass and depth. He took on a ghostly form, Laurens reversing the timeline of his body's disposal until he looked human.

He was smiling, that much was true, but it seemed more pained than anything. Of course Alexander noticed, but a child like Philip wouldn't pick up on something like that. "Don't cry," Laurens' voice rang in Alexander's ears. Despite that, Alexander held on to him and let some tears flow. "Alexander, I never left for a minute," he said, "Hercules, Lafayette... they're all doing fine, just fine."

Alexander looked up at his face. That was a face that had rushed into battle, willing to die for a cause he cared about. If he were in Laurens' position, he would've done the exact same thing. But now, all he could feel was sorrow. Laurens was going to become a small footnote in future American history textbooks at most, despite him having an entire chapter in Alexander's life. It could have easily been Alexander in his place. Now he understood why George almost never let him into battle. Self-preservation had to be prioritized if he ever wanted a legacy.

"Alexander, I'm here as long as you and your children are happy. I'll be happy if Eliza's happy with you, and I'm happy that Philip is here with me." His voice soothed Alexander, despite his worries that he'd never hear it again after this.

"Laurens, I'm sorry," Alexander whispered. "I'm trying to abolish slavery, but I feel like I'm the only one who cares about the injustice going on. Essay after essay wouldn't be able to describe how awful I am." Laurens shushed him.

"You're not awful, despite every change, you're still the tomcat I know." He laughed. "Hey, remember you and Eliza's wedding? I still remember every part of it. How much simpler it was back then." Philip was fast asleep, Alexander noticed. He hoped that Philip had slept through Alexander's moment of vulnerability.

He muttered, in a voice nobody but Laurens heard, "Am I selfish for wanting to go back? To before the wedding, back with every one of you guys?" Laurens shook his head. "I love Philip too much though. I could never leave Eliza, I could never hurt her, but I love you guys too."

Laurens paused, and then said, "I know, I know. I love you too, Alexander. We all love you." Alexander's eyes widened, as if that was the only thing he needed to hear in that moment.

"Please stay," Alexander burst out. "God, I've missed you so much. I've been so busy to no avail." His hands were always cramped from writing, his eyes would tear up from long hours at his desk staring at papers, and his legs missed the action of battle. The action John shared with him, a rush that was only shared by them in the heat of the moment.

Laurens sighed, bringing a chill that lowered the room's temperature. "I can't stay forever, Alexander. You need to keep living without me. I promise I won't be a forgotten memory." He shifted his eyes. "I'm sorry too. Only fools would've ignored your cries for me to join you." Alexander felt the shame rise in him as he thought of Eliza and Angelica begging him to join them for the summer. He had begged John to come with him to Congress, and then he died shortly after.

Was that fate waiting for him? Alexander took in deep, shaky breaths. His stomach churned as he became too aware of his morality. But this time, he couldn't distract himself by burying himself in writings. There was only John's silent offer to stay and talk for a bit.

No matter what he did, he was destined to be selfish towards someone. So for once in his life, he was selfish to his country by staying with Laurens for a while. As the sun was on the brink of rising, Alexander yawned. Laurens chuckled. "I remember when you'd stay up for days at a time. Keep out of trouble while we're gone, okay?" Alexander nodded and laid down on the floor. Laurens knelt and kissed his forehead, leaving traces of dust and ash mixed together. "I'll see you sometime, Alexander." Alexander had fallen asleep next to Philip.

Eliza got up and stretched. Alexander wasn't in bed with her, as usual. She checked the study but, strangely enough, he wasn't there. Instead, she found him fast asleep in Philip's bedroom. But instead of being mad that Alexander was sneaking around at night, she felt a twinge of hope that Alexander still loved her and the children enough to think of Philip. The fact that he turned down their break seemed to be less significant, because Eliza somehow felt safe and comforted that Alexander would be all right by himself. "I love you too, Alexander," Eliza repeated Laurens' words, dusted off his forehead, and kissed him on the same spot that he had. Then Eliza snapped back to her reality. "Philip, get your bags! Grandpa's waiting upstate!"

Philip cheered and spun around. "Bye, Pa! Make our country more prouder!"

"Prouder, Phillip. Not more prouder," Eliza corrected him. "And yes, I hope he does our nation good." She wondered if the anguished begging she had done the night before still appeared in her voice, ready to expose her true feelings again. Then she saw Alexander stretch, a sly smile on his face, and those same feelings from that ball years ago showed up again. Like they were dormant, waiting for when it was safe for them to show. She idly thought about why she had subconsciously hidden her emotions more and more as the days passed. Like she was building walls for something that was coming.

Her son smiled. "John says Pa'll be okay without us."

"Sure he did," Eliza replied. In her mind, she hoped and prayed that this John was right. She ran her hands through Alexander's hair. She stopped after a few seconds due to running into a number of tangles. Their foreheads touched as Eliza whispered, "Take care of yourself, Alexander. Don't get into any fights, or any other kind of trouble."

"I won't," Alexander merely said, too dazed and tired to say any more.