A/N: So I decided to continue this not as a story but as a series of one-shots. There is no order or really rhyme or reason to these one-shots, it's literally just whatever I feel like writing with the common theme being events or people involved in the American Revolution.

Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, 1777

It was snowing.

Alfred sighed, pulling his cloak tighter around him as he attempted to ignore the icy chill around him. It was winter, and a bitterly cold one at that. Though the snowfall had not been particularly heavy this year, the low temperature and freezing winds were nearly unbearable and Alfred was absolutely miserable. His men were faring no better though, the bloody smears in the snow often indicating where his troops had tread. They were low on everything; food, clothes, supplies, ammunition, and there did not appear to be much reason to hope that relief was on the way.

They had set up camp for the winter in Pennsylvania this year and though there had initially been some hope that the surrounding farms, rich as they were, would provide the troops with badly needed food, it had soon become apparent that this would not be the case. The men were starving, mostly subsisting off a mixture of flour and water and more and more were deserting the camp with each passing day. Though Alfred wished his men would stay with him and fight, he could not entirely blame them. The situation was absolutely miserable, the camp was ridden with death and disease, and if he had to be honest, Alfred was amazed at the men who had chosen to stay with him and fight.

Despite some success earlier in the year, particularly in New York, Alfred had to admit the situation looked rather grim. Philadelphia had already fallen and his Congress had fled. It wasn't that capturing his capitol could stop Alfred, but it was somewhat of a rather large blow to his morale. He was tired, oh so very tired, and knew that much of his hopes at this point rested with the European squabbles and how much aid he could get from England's enemies, particularly Francis. The victory in Saratoga undoubtedly had strengthened the argument America had built for French aide, but Alfred could only pray that it was enough.

Alfred shook his head, trying to push his doubts to the back of his mind. He had ridden out earlier that day with a small group to do some scouting of the surrounding terrain and they were returning to camp now. Though somewhat unusual, Alfred's commander-in-chief, General Washington, had decided to come with their small scouting group, accompanied by two of his aide-de-camps, a young man from South Carolina named John Laurens and his close friend, Alexander Hamilton. Alfred had the sneaking suspicion that the reason they had decided to do this mission had more to do with just getting out of the camp for a bit and getting some exercise than actually doing any scouting, but considering how long they had been cooped up, Alfred completely understood.

Washington rode ahead of him and Alfred couldn't help but study the man from behind as they rode in silence, paying little attention to his surroundings. He was a large man of rather extraordinary strength, Alfred knew, but a certain weariness seemed to cling about him, pulling his shoulders down into a slump and drawing the corners of his mouth down into a permanent frown.

Alfred swallowed, hard. He had first met Washington when the man had still been fairly young, in his early twenties. They had served together under Braddock during the French and Indian War, and Alfred had taken note of the young colonel from Virginia. He looked nothing like the man who rode ahead of him now. Stress and weariness had taken a toll on Washington and it was starting to show.

A sudden desire to say something, anything swept Alfred and he blinked, looking away. He wanted to thank his general, to tell him that he really was grateful for everything the man had done, that Alfred really cared for him; not just as country to leader but as man to man.

A small lump had wormed its way into Alfred throat and he frowned, thinking. How to express how he felt though? How to explain to this man that he truly, really was thankful, that he cared, that he paid no attention to the malicious tongues in Congress that whispered of incompetence behind his general's back, and that he would stand firm and stay besides his general no matter what?

What to say? How to condense all of those intense emotions into a single thought, a single phrase? Alfred furrowed his brow, trying to form his thoughts into a coherent idea.

They soon rode into camp, mostly in a rather gloomy silence. After leading their horses to the makeshift stables they had built, Washington, followed by Laurens and Hamilton, dismounted, and handed their reigns off to the stable master, their faces all drawn and grim. Their ride had been rather unsuccessful and the weight of the situation was proving stressful for all three of them. Though Laurens and Hamilton were still young, Alfred could tell their current predicament was also wearing heavily on them.

But still. He had to say something at the very least to his general. His mind resolved, Alfred quickly dismounted, also handing his reigns off and starting after Washington, who had begun walking away from the stable without a word. He had no idea what he was going to say, but whatever it was, it would be better than nothing. Steadying himself, Alfred reached out, tapping the general on the shoulder.

"Yes?" the man turned, looking down at Alfred. Though his eyes clearly betrayed his exhaustion, Washington smiled down at Alfred, a calming though weary expression.

"S…sir" he stammered, forcing the nervous ball down, down from his throat, to his chest, and finally to the pit of his stomach where it rested, buzzing furiously, "Well. Sir. I…I just-"

Before he could finish his sentence though, there was a sudden cry. Startled, Alfred jumped, looking up and seconds later a young man ran past Alfred, flinging himself right into Washington's arms.

Alfred looked on dumbfounded as the young man cried out something that sounded oddly French and quickly kissed Washington on the cheeks. Washington, to Alfred's surprise, did not push the man off but smiled instead, a pale blush dusting his cheeks and, somewhat awkwardly, embraced the man in return. A funny tightening feeling arose in Alfred's chest, something akin to what he had felt when England had paid too much attention to Matthew when he was younger and he looked in annoyance at the young man who had by now let go of Washington but was talking excitedly and happy, paying Alfred no heed.

"Lafayette" Washington finally said, once the younger man had stopped talking, "I do not believe I've introduced you to our nation yet?" Washington said, using his right hand to indicate Alfred, "This is Mr. Alfred F. Jones, the United States of America."

"Sir, you can't tell him who I am right away!" Alfred protested, "I don't even know who he is!"

"Alfred, I trust this man like no other." Washington responded, smiling lightly, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. The height difference between two was slight, Alfred noticed, though Washington was certainly more filled out than the younger man, who had a slight face and slim figure with reddish hair and dark eyes, "He…he is a son to me."

The tightening in Alfred's chest grew worse as Washington turned his attention away from Alfred to regard the young man with open fondness, "A…a son, sir?" he managed to ask, forcing a strained smile, "That's wonderful."

Washington nodded, "This is the Marquis de Lafayette," he said, "He comes from France and has already proved himself to me and gained my complete trust and confidence."

"An honor to meet you, monsieur." Lafayette bowed low and Alfred noted the heavy French accent he spoke with, "I have met my own country before and am glad to make the acquaintance of another."

"Yea…sure." Alfred responded, forcing the same strained smile and bowing stiffly in return, "You have met Francis then?"

"Yes, friend." Lafayette smiled, "I am working to convince him to join this glorious cause! After all, this is not only a fight for your independence, but rather for the rights and liberty of all mankind! You not only strike at the English tyrant but despots everywhere! Ah! America your nation is indeed beautiful! You do not have the rank poverty or taint of the, ah, Ancient Regimes! Here men are indeed equal! It is indeed magnifique my dearest country!"

"Um." Alfred blinked, "Thank you?" he said.

Washington laughed, startling Alfred, "I really do believe you two will get along wonderfully." He said, smiling openly now. Alfred noticed how his posture seemed to have changed slightly once Lafayette had arrived; he no longer looked so weary and was standing a bit straighter. The tightening sensation grew worse, and was almost unbearable.

"It was wonderful to meet you, Monsieur Lafayette" Alfred said, determined not to let his emotions get the best of him, "But, sir, if you don't mind I am horribly weary at the moment and would prefer some rest. I mean no disrespect to yourself or our esteemed guest but I would very much like to get some sleep."

"There is no offense, my dear America!" Lafayette cried, shaking his head frantically.

"Of course not, Alfred" Washington responded, also shaking his head, "Why don't you go lie down for a bit? Lafayette, if you would come with me, we have much to discuss."

Bowing jerkily, Alfred quickly turned on heel, hurrying through the camp to his tent.

Collapsing onto his bed, Alfred finally let a few of the bitter tears he had been holding back fall from his eyes. He had never had the chance to say what he wanted to Washington, and even worse he saw how different Washington looked once he had seen Lafayette.

Washington always looked weary around Alfred, and though Alfred knew it largely had to do with the stress of his situation, he never could quite stop the guilt he felt when around his general. Additionally, the contrast in his demeanor while around Alfred and then while around Lafayette was almost unbearable.

He's so much happier with him. Alfred thought, wiping the tears from his eyes. It made sense, Alfred knew; Lafayette did not carry with him the burden of a nation, which Alfred did. Any human would become weary around Alfred with such a heavy load; it was simply a matter of fact.

Alfred could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside him and he held his hands over his eyes, trying to force the tears down. He was jealous, oh yes so very jealous of the young Frenchman who had somehow managed to win over his general. Alfred had always had a selfish streak, going back to him fighting for Arthur's attention over his twin brother, but never had he been so overwhelmingly jealous towards a human. The knowledge that Lafayette could and would age with Washington, that Lafayette could share a human bond with Washington, that Lafayette did not force those around him to carry such a heavy load, the weight of a nation, on their backs, all poured into Alfred's mind and he wept openly.

"Alfred?"

Alfred jumped, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes, "Yes?" he called out, trying to keep his voice normal, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Alfred." The voice responded, "It's John Laurens. You mind if I come in?"

Recognizing the voice, Alfred swallowed, determined to keep his voice calm, "Sure" he said, as nonchalantly as possible, "Please do."

The flap to Alfred's tent opened and Laurens stooped down slightly, letting himself in. He was a rather tall and lean, with sandy blonde hair that had been tied back into a queue and light blue eyes.

"Alfred" Laurens said, gently, after taking one look at his face, "What's the matter?"

"What do you mean?" Alfred said, smiling widely, "I'm fine! Well a bit tired but really I'm fine! Never felt better! Things are moving along not too badly right I mean okay that's not right the troops are starving and it's a mess and we have no food I mean who would have thought here in the middle of so many farms we'd be starving, but you know the general-"

Laurens held up a hand, stopping Alfred's ramblings, "Alfred, you are horribly transparent." he said, shaking his head and sitting on the cot next to him, "Hammie and I thought it strange that you went running off as soon as we got back without even saying goodbye and here I find you, cooped up and crying."

"I'm not crying."

"Alfred, your eyes are completely red and swollen."

"It's the cold."

Laurens said nothing, instead raising his eyebrow and cocking his head at Alfred, "Really now?"

Alfred looked away, his hands playing with the hem of his shirt, "Okay I was a little upset, but it's nothing really. I mean it; it really is not a serious issue."

"You don't like Gilbert." Laurens said, matter-of-factly.

"Gilbert?" Alfred asked frowning, "You mean Prussia?"

"Oh, no I meant Lafayette" Laurens corrected him, "I call him Gilbert. Well Hammie and I call him Gilbert. "

"So you're good friends?" Alfred asked miserably.

"Yes, we hold him in very high esteem." Laurens nodded, "He's a wonderful and interesting man, horribly dedicated to the Cause and loyal to those he loves."

"I'm sure he is!" Alfred responded, trying to sound cheerful, "And I'm sure he will prove to be a valuable ally, I certainly hope to speak to him more often. After all, he's helping our Cause and you know he seems to be a good man I mean Washington trusts him right?"

"Alfred, come now, stop forcing yourself to act cheerful, your jealousy of dear Gilbert was rather apparent." Laurens said, laughing, "What is it, dearest? Is it Washington?"

Alfred blushed, looking away and crossing his arms, "Is it that obvious?" he mumbled, "I…I mean he just goes running into his arms and…and kisses him! Who does that it…it's not proper!"

"But it is French" Laurens replied, playfully, "Funny how often those two conflict isn't it?"

"Well I don't care too much for French ways then." Alfred responded, sullenly, "And what does Washington mean like a son I…I thought…" he stopped, mentally cursing himself. He had said too much.

"You thought Washington saw you as a son perhaps?" Laurens finished Alfred's sentence, his voice gentle, "Is that what it is?"

Alfred blushed, a vibrant red, "I…I don't know. I mean, I can't. I know I can't. It's stupid. I'm stupid. Washington…Washington will eventually be gone. England always told me this, I can't place this much…heart into a mortal, and he's right here, I can't. Washington and Lafayette will grow old together. They'll age and die and go to heaven together and I…I'll just be left behind for all eternity. They'll be dead together and I'll be stuck here on this Earth and I…I just hate it so much. And when I do die…John I don't think nations have souls."

"That's nonsense." Laurens said, soothingly, placing a hand on Alfred's back and rubbing circles into it, "complete and utter nonsense. I am certain you have a soul, Alfred dearest and I am certain your soul is far more beautiful than any in existence. As for Washington…well just because he sees Gilbert as a son does not necessarily mean he holds you in any lower esteem, you know that. He loves you, dearly and completely."

"Of course he does, he has no choice in that matter" Alfred responded, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?"

"He, you, Hamilton, everyone." Alfred buried his head in his hands, "Of course you love me, I'm your country, I'm America, you have to." He could feel the tears welling up behind his eyes, "But do you really love me? Not America, not my nation, me. Alfred F. Jones. Do you really think Washington would have looked at me for more than two seconds had I not been his nation? Do you really think you could have given me the time of day if I weren't your country? Do you really think that even Lafayette would have been so eager to meet me if he had thought it was just me, plain old Alfred?"

"Alfred-"

"No, it's fine" Alfred shook his head, quickly wiping his eyes. The tightening in his chest was nearly unbearable now, "You can't separate America from me. I know this. Every nation knows this. I can't ask of such a burden from you, that's unreasonable."

"You are unreasonable" Laurens responded, his face stern, "Oh Alfred, my dear boy you are so very unreasonable."

"I didn't mean-"

"No, Alfred you will listen to me" Laurens interrupted, shaking his head, "Do you really think so little of us that we would not take time to learn who you were? Do you really believe that we cared only for your nationhood and nothing for you? Alfred, yes you are America and yes, you are right, we will never be able to distinguish this nation from you as you are one and the same. And perhaps you are right in thinking we may have never met had you not been America. But do you not see how foolish such thinking is? What matters is we did meet; we have met and we have grown to love you as if you were one of our own kin. We do love you Alfred, you and your obstinacy and inability to sometimes see the obvious, Alfred we care about you and do see you as a dear, dear friend."

"But John-"

"Alfred, there are no buts in this matter!" Laurens cried, "Why are you so determined to cast us aside? Yes, my dear boy we will be gone someday and for you, that day may seem too soon. But please, while we are here, while we are together, why not enjoy each other's company? Why not embrace what we so willingly offer to you? Not the allegiance and loyalty we swear to our nation, but the friendship we swear to you."

"John I…"

"Alfred I will not hear a word of protest from you" Laurens shook his head, "My dear boy, you forget that Hammie and I enjoy debating in our free time. I have held my own against that man, do you really believe you can win against me?"

Alfred paused, frowning, "When you put it that way…"

"Wonderful." Laurens smiled, "I'm glad you understand."

"Why do you think Washington's so open to Lafayette though?" Alfred mumbled, "I know, you don't want me to protest…but I am curious."

"Washington is a man of passion, you realize that, and horribly paternalistic as well." Laurens responded, "He extends the same hand of friendship to all that enter his military family, be it you, me, or Lafayette."

"Really?" Alfred frowned, "That's…strange."

"Why do you think so?"

"Well he isn't like that with Hamilton…"

"Ah dearest Hammie." Laurens laughed, "No he certainly isn't, Alfred you are right. But that is more due to Hammie's behavior than Washington's."

"Are you two speaking slander behind my back?" Alfred jumped as Hamilton stuck his head into Alfred's tent, a smile pulling at the edge of his lips.

"How long have you been outside!?" Alfred cried, indignantly, jumping off his cot as Hamilton fully entered the tent, still smiling.

"Not long, not long" Hamilton waved his hand, "Just long enough to hear John knock some much needed sense into you, young man."

"I am several centuries older than you!" Alfred responded.

"And several ranks below me, is that any way to speak to a superior officer?" Hamilton asked, smirking and reaching out to ruffle Alfred's hair fondly.

"Now, Hammie stop abusing your power to tease poor Alfred and help me up" Laurens said before Alfred had a chance to respond, "I am tired and frail, after so many hours of hard work."

Hamilton rolled his eyes but nonetheless extended a hand towards his friend, a slight blush dusting his cheeks and a smile pulling at the edge of his lips, "I have done the same amount of work, yet here I am in a sprightly condition."

"Oh yes, rub it in my face, why don't you" Laurens sighed dramatically, as he pulled himself up, "Well, Alfred my dear boy, I do think I must take my leave now. Please think about what I said and we shall see you at dinner?"

"Of course" Alfred nodded, "John…thank you."

"There is no need to thank me" Laurens responded, shaking his head, "I have only done what any friend would do."

Alfred smiled at the men in front of him. The tightening in his chest had loosened substantially and he felt significantly better, "Perhaps" he responded, "But I still am thankful. To the both of you."

"Naturally" Hamilton laughed, "Who would not be thankful to have a friend such as myself?"

Laurens rolled his eyes and cuffed his friend lightly on the side of his head, "You and your ego, Hammie I do love you but it will someday be the death of you."

"Hopefully that day is far in the future" Hamilton responded, "Come now, John we still have some work to take care of before the day is out. Please get some rest for now, Alfred" he smiled at Alfred one last time before leaving the tent, followed closely by Laurens who also smiled quickly at Alfred before leaving.

Sighing, Alfred fell back onto his cot, a small smile playing across his face. Though he knew it would be difficult to get over his jealousy of Lafayette, perhaps he should give the Frenchman a chance. After all, he was friends with Hamilton and Laurens and Alfred sincerely hoped what Laurens said about Washington and himself were true. He would speak to Lafayette at dinner tonight, away from the others he decided, and judge for himself, based on the character of the man, not on his relationship with Alfred's leaders-no Alfred's friends if Lafayette could perhaps prove to be a powerful friend and ally.

A/N: The Washington/Lafayette friendship is literally one of my favorite in this period (along with Hamilton/Laurens and Washington/Hamilton/Laurens/Lafayette) but I'd imagine Alfred would get a bit jealous of it. :)

Also if you have ideas about what I should write about next that would be much appreciated!