Ok HI! I am RedCoatsRedder and this is my first fanfic cause I'm new to this site. So I am super excited to try it out! Constructive criticism is welcome but please no flames! (they will be used for s'mores) This fic is not historically accurate in any way but I was curious so I decided what the heck I'll write about it.

Disclaimer: I own none of this stuff whatsoever, all rights go to the people who do.

Alexander Hamilton was walking home from work. It had been a very long day, and usually he'd take a carriage but he and Jefferson had been arguing non-stop all day, so he decided to burn off some steam. Underneath his eyes, there were dark purple bags, and his hair was a bit ragged, but then again he hadn't slept in almost three days, so all of this was to be expected.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed that he'd arrived at home and climbed absentmindedly up the stairs and opened the door. A blaze of light and sound greeted him when he walked inside. Blinking his eyes a few times, he smiled back at his eldest son and daughter, Philip and Angelica, who were descending the stairs. Still in a rather dazed state, he proceeded further into the house, looking for Eliza.

She was standing in the parlour, holding a letter in her hand and looking confused and worried. She smiled in a somewhat distracted manner when she saw him. "Eliza, who is the letter from?" Alexander inquired. The letter was stained with water, splotches of ink, and what might have been some sort of oil. Altogether it looked like the sender hadn't minded the state of his paper or just didn't think they'd care. Eliza pursed her lips for a moment, before replying, "It's probably nothing, probably just a joke someone decided to play, but, well…."

Unable to say any more, she held out the letter to him. It was a very short letter, evidently the person did not have much to say. He took it and held it to the nearby candle. It read:

My son, it has been far too long. I got word you were living in New York City in the newly independent American colonies. I have recently come to the port in Boston and am travelling up to New York, and I would like to call upon you when I arrive. I am afraid I cannot give you the exact date I will arrive, but I will be sure to see you before the month is up.

Respectfully yours, your father,

James A. Hamilton

The letter fell out of Alexander's shaking hands. It couldn't be-could it? His father was likely dead, and even if he was still alive, he had no reason to come visit. He'd left him, his mother, and James alone, without any support and showing no sign that he cared about them in the least. No. Eliza was right, it was just a joke, a prank meant to poke fun at him and his family. He picked up the letter, and abruptly turned towards the fireplace, dropping the piece of paper on top of the already blazing logs. Exited the room, he was determined to put the offending letter out of his mind. He almost succeeded.

Alexander rose early as always the next day, making a cup of coffee and bidding goodbye to Eliza, then stepping outside to see if he could hail a carriage.

Arriving at his offices, he got to work almost immediately.

The day was much the same as any other, passing by in a blur of paper, ink, and quills. He wrote, argued with Jefferson and Madison, spoke briefly with President Washington, and wrote some more, not leaving his desk until darkness fell. All thoughts of the letter had disappeared from his mind.

On this night he actually did manage to catch a ride to his home, as it was quite late and he really was tired. Ascending the stairs, he paused for a moment before opening the door.

It appeared that an argument of some sort was taking place inside. One voice was distinctly Eliza's, while the other one was male, but it was not the voice of one of his sons, or anyone he recognized, for that matter.

He opened the door somewhat cautiously, not sure if he would be prepared for what he might see when he entered the house. He was absolutely right.

Eliza was standing in the foyer, arguing with a man whose back was turned to him. The man was not much taller than himself, and had unkempt dark hair that hung loose around his shoulders. He had evidently been travelling for some time, as his clothing was careworn and frayed in places. He had deeply tanned skin, likely he had spent long periods of time out in the sun. Even though his face was concealed, the man had a familiar air about him, something in the way he carried himself reminded Alexander of someone.

Finally noticing his entry, Eliza paused for a moment, looked at Alexander, then glanced back at the man. After a moment's silence, she spoke.

"Alexander, you remember the letter we received? Well, apparently it wasn't a joke."

The man turned around, and grinned back at Alex.

"It is good to see you again, son. It's me, your father."

Ok, that's the first chapter! If you made it this far, thanks for reading! I know it's kind of short, but I think it's a good place to end. Please review! I have some questions I'd like you to answer for me.

1. Did you like it? 2. What do you think Alex's reaction will be? 3. Do you think President Washington will get involved?

I will update this as soon as I get answers for these questions. (particularly 3, I want your opinions on the matter.) Stay awesome! ~ RedCoatsRedder