A.N. Shit it's been a while for this site, sorry about that. I got really discouraged after the last chapter I guess, but I'm back and might even start updating this again. If you follow me on A03 you already know whats up but I love you all anyways. :)

Disclaimer: Standard stuff, don't own it, never will.

"No!"

Washington felt a warm spray hit his face and for a moment the world was painstakingly still.

Then the crushing weight of a body slammed into his chest.

Two weeks prior

"Lieutenant Hamilton! Sir!" A messenger wove his way around the congested camp, his balance slipping on the sodden ground. The man in question looked up from the table he was stationed at, an overhang having been set up to protect him from the complete downpour.

"Yes, Officer," Hamilton acknowledged, taking in the boy. Gods, he's younger than I. Either recruitment is especially desperate or especially daft. "What is it that you bring this time?"

"Another correspondence from General Washington sir," the boy answered easily, handing Hamilton said envelope. The fourth of the past week it seemed. "If I may be so bold sir…"

"You may certainly try." Hamilton's voice was almost amused as he sat once more, casting a glance at the boy that was so reminiscent of Washington that any close to the general would have looked twice.

"Well, this is the fourth of the week, I know because I'm in charge of delivering them, and there's been four specifically for you this week, which must be the entirety of the general's personal message staff, and you've received almost twenty missives from His Excellency in your stay here," the boy rambled on, and Alexander briefly wondered if this is how Washington felt with him. "What I mean to say sir, is perhaps you should return."

Ah, so this is what the boy had been trying to say. The thought was tempting indeed, for his small delay in Boston had turned into a month's absence from his home.

"Tis a tempting notion, Officer. I'd very much like to return to base soon."

"Then why don't you?"

Because of a dammed spy, and because you're all being slaughtered here and I can actually do something in this devastation, this time. And… I may or may not enjoy being a few hours' ride away from a certain Schuyler sister…

"There's other business to attend to here, of course. Plus, the foods better." Hamilton winked at the messenger, who recognized the dismissal as what it was, but who's lips quirked in a semblance of a smile.

Because the thought of food, let alone good food was laughable around here. They'd been completely desolated by the British forces, and their prospects did not look good. Every second day it seemed like more men were brought back bloodied and dying or already dead; no one survived a wound due to lack of supplies. As it was half the camp was starving, and Hamilton could not find it in him to leave before Congress sent this camp the supplies they'd been promised.

No one complained about the extra help, in fact it seemed the captains here were grateful for his presence, his pure stubbornness sometimes helped lift spirits. Hamilton also offered valuable advice, having studied Washington's technique of war strategy and being particularly intelligent himself, proving himself more than worth it to keep around.

And he needed to crack whatever code this was, because he was sure it had to do with the system of traitors that had infected their army.

What are these symbols here?" Alexander stopped in the middle of the devastated city, pointing towards some etchings in the buildings. "I've seen them around the structures before."

"We aren't sure sir, probably the local children when there were children left. It means nothing to any of us, nor do they resemble any sort of religious markings."

Alexander examined the symbol once more, more critically.

"How curious indeed."

"Lieutenant please, I must urge you to come inside and quickly. Those are storm clouds in the making."

"I'll be right with you," Alexander began to quickly take down the etching on a spare piece of parchment, moving as quickly as he could and still feeling rushed.

"Lieutenant Hamilton, I must insist!"

"I'm coming!"

The last marking was taken and he followed his guide, casting one last look at the symbol he knew had to have some significance. He could feel it.

Over the course of his stay he'd found more symbols resembling the first one he took down, and he always made sure to carefully catalogue every one. Sometimes they'd be found in groups, others in single markings. They clearly meant something, and it was definitely not the work of children. Despite his best efforts, he could not find a way to decode the symbols in the camp, search as he may for someone who may be using them.

And the general, good Lord the general, was growing more and more impatient everyday. What started as simple missives soon turned into demands for Hamilton's return.

Hamilton shuddered to think of the consequences of denying His Excellency outright not once, not twice, but five times.

Washington was anxious for his aide to return, not that Laurens was a bad aide, he just wasn't Hamilton. As foolish it was, when Hamilton first sent word that he was unable to return after delivering the initial message, due to the storms, and then later refusing to return, George had felt fear run its course through his veins. In short terms, he missed the boy.

He'd overheard from Laurens and the Marquis' conversations that personally, Hamilton was doing as fine as he was professionally. However, the conditions in the Boston camp were abhorrent, little food, little medical, and as he understood his recent reports, a complete blood bath.

He may or may not have also heard that that Schuyler girl Alexander met at Phillip's ball was staying in closer proximity in Boston than home base. He hadn't realized their correspondence had extended as far as it had, he hadn't know Alexander had become besotted.

Alexander opened the latest missive, longing for the familiarity of his home. Because, as foolish as it was, when he first sent word that he was unable to return, and then later because he couldn't leave yet, he'd felt longing course through his veins. In short terms, he was homesick.

He missed John and Gilbert and Hercules, maybe even Burr. He missed his job, despite his indignation at the denial of a command, and he missed Washington. Foolish sentiment.

Hamilton.

I am no longer requesting. As your commanding officer,

you will obey my request. I'm to visit Benedict

Arnold in a weeks' time, you are a three days ride away from his

residence. You will join me there.

-Washington.

Maybe leaving wouldn't be so bad, Congress had agreed to send some supplies, not as much as they'd hoped but it helped... This code could be worked upon on his own desk instead of here...

Seeing Eliza had been wonderful, and he was quite certain he could spend the rest of his life with her at his side. He eyed her latest letter,

"You've received my father's blessing," especially stood out. Dear god Alexander hoped that what he felt for her was love. No. He knew he loved her, just because he had no experience with family, or children, or love, doesn't mean he is ruined for it.

Alexander Hamilton loved Elizabeth Schuyler. He could do this.

He penned his response back to her, sending it away with a messenger and beginning to pack his things, which had never truly been unpacked. He would surprise Eliza tonight, and confess his love unlike anything he'd said in his letters. He had seen her last week when he had asked for their blessing, but she wasn't expecting to see him for a whiles yet.

If he rode hard he could see Eliza before sundown, and then double back. He had to do something first though, something important.

Then he would ride as the general had requested.

"Alexander!" It was Eliza who opened the door for him, just as he had hoped it would be. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you'd be back for weeks yet, are you still stationed in Boston? Are you leaving?"

Perhaps one of the things he loved most about his love is that she could talk as fast as he, and she never bored you. Yet for the moment he did not need words, just what was tucked into his uniform pocket.

The Schuyler household sounded just as homely as it had when he visited here before, with Eliza's sisters laughing in the other room, and the bustle of the household staff as they went about their business. Perhaps it was slightly rude to show up uninvited, but this was something to be done in person.

"Betsy who is it?" Angelica's voice lilted from the sitting room, and Alexander grinned at the sound of it. They had also kept a correspondence, but he loved her in a different way than Eliza. He knew that it was Eliza that he would marry, and Angelica who would be kept as a most cherished friend.

"Hi Eliza," Alex started sheepishly, "I won't impose on your family, I only need to speak to you."

By this point, both Angelica and Peggy had poked their head out of the drawing room, their mouths falling open in amused shock. Eliza, as if she could sense their presences, glanced back in utter shock before turning back to Alexander.

"No, no of course not. You are not imposing, please, come inside. You're absolutely soaked," she continued to fuss over him like she was not absolutely shellshocked at his sudden appearance. "Were you hear to speak to my father?"

Alexander chuckled nervously, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks as he revealed his tucked arm, presenting her with a bundle of flowers. "No, I'm here for you Eliza."

"Oh." The both of them were blushing now.

"Alexander!" Angelica and Peggy it seemed had decided it was time to make their true appearance. He embraced the both of them, savouring the feeling of having a family, before straightening up in front of the imposing figure of Phillip Schuyler.

"Sir," he gave a small bow, "I hope I have not disrespected you too dearly by coming unannounced."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then as if sensing Alexander's intentions, a smile split his face and he clapped Alexander on the back.

"Nonsense! You are always welcomed here son." Alexander restrained his flinch, smiling gratefully at him.

"With your permission sir, I'd like a moment alone with Eliza…"

Eliza's chestnut eyes seemed to grow even wider, and she nodded furiously, ushering Alexander towards the drawing room before her father could reply.

"Did you ride all the way here only to speak with me?" Alexander loved her voice, he could listen to it for hours on end, so powerful and soft.

"I'd ride a life's time to exchange but a word with you, love."

She smiled then, that pretty smile that lit up her eyes in the candlelight.

"I'd wait a lifetime to exchange a word with you."

And then Alexander knew. He had to do it now, he could feel it in his bones. Yet as he tried to clasp his hands over the metal he found he couldn't get a good grip on it. He was fumbling about his pockets and making a complete fool of himself and oh God, this wasn't going as well as he'd hoped and then finally, he grasped the ring.

"Instead of waiting a lifetime my love, would you spend one with me?" As he said it he dropped into my a kneel, withdrawing the ring from his pocket.

When Eliza realized what was happening all breath was stolen away, all speech became meaningless, and there was nothing else in the world except her and her Alexander.

He must have mistaken her silence for hesitance for he began to ramble in the way he does when he feels out of control.

"I know I have not a dollar to my name, nor any standing in the army. All I have to offer is what I came here with, my knowledge, my honour, and a few college credits. But we could figure things out, I promise I will do my best to provide for you. You, and your family, they bring a different side of me to light, I feel I've grown to love them as I could a family. I've lived without one so long, I wasn't sure if I knew how to anymore, but I am sure of this and I am as sure of the memory of my mother. As long as I'm alive Eliza, I swear to god you'll never feel-"

Before he had finished the sentence Alexander felt Eliza's body crash into his, enveloping him in her warm embrace.

"My dear Alexander, nothing has given me more joy than to say 'I do' to you."

A relief unlike any other he'd ever experienced washed over Hamilton then, because until then there had always been a voice nagging him that he was much to broken, much too poor, for someone amazing like Eliza to love.

Yet when he slipped the ring on her finger he didn't feel so broken anymore.

"Lieutenant Hamilton, how good it is to see you, do you travel with General Washington?" Alexander was greeted by an overeager aide of Arnold's, and he instantly found himself annoyed with him; perhaps it had to do with the long days' ride he'd just completed.

"No, my dear sir. I travel alone, to be reunited with the general once he makes his appearance in two days time, I imagine."

"I see, come, come inside. The air is chilled and the ground wet, hardly an environment to make conversation in," the aide said, ushering Hamilton into the grounds. "Nicolson will take your horse."

"Much appreciated, I'm afraid I do not have the pleasure of knowing your name."

"Kingsley, aide of General Arnold."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Hamilton lied easily. In truth he hoped he was shown to a place he could sleep and be warm for the first time in five weeks.

"Pleasure is all mine, I'm sure. Come, you must be tired. I will show you your quarters for the next two weeks."

Two weeks? That's how long this blasted visit is to last?

"Thank you, the ride was long."

"I'm sure it must have been." How was it that they occupied the same position, Hamilton really having the superior job, and yet Kingsley sounded like he thought he was so much better than Alexander?

Eventually they stopped at a door in one of the many twisting halls of this mansion, which Alexander inferred was to be his quarters. Kingsley presented it to him as if he were some kind of servant, despite the overall luxury of the room itself. It was a pleasantly cozy room, better than anything Alexander had at either camp, with cotton sheets embroidered with burgundy thread, and a cedar desk equipped with everything he would need to work. No windows though, and a bell was hanging near the bed. A wardrobe stood just adjacent to the bed, and a small book shelf on the opposite wall.

"Thank you, it's lovely."

"My employer wishes only for the comfort of yourself and General Washington. His quarters are located just around the corner, a bell will ring if he wishes for your presence while inside his room." Kingsley smiled tightly at Hamilton, no doubt hoping he would flush at the implication of some sort of servants' bell.

"How considerate of your employer. Please, give him my regards." Hamilton returned the gesture, offering his hand to shake.

"I will." Kingsley took the hand, they shook. The door shut behind Kingsley, and the only sound in the room was silence.

Alexander already hated it here.

"Good morrow, Officer Hamilton." To Hamilton's complete surprise, Benedict Arnold himself stood in the doorway of Alexander's room, which he had left as minimally as possible.

"Good morrow, General Arnold," Alexander replied.

"I've seen you little about the grounds, I was worried you did not enjoy it here."

"Of course not sir, I've merely been working in anticipation of the general's arrival," Hamilton replied.

"I see, you are quite close with the general, are you not?"

The question took Alexander aback, and for the few seconds it took him to regain his bearings he stared at Arnold in silence.

"Well?"

Arnold had moved into his room, standing almost behind Alexander and despite his dislike for this place Hamilton was becoming both uncomfortable and angry at the intrusion of his space.

"I would not say that my relationship with the general extends past one of of my post, sir."

"Yes but as far as that goes, you spend many hours with him, don't you?"

"My post requires me to-" Hamilton clenched his jaw as he answered, not liking Arnold's general tone.

"Yes, thank you Officer Hamilton. You've been ever enlightening."

"May I ask what you needed enlightenment on," Hamilton asked. He turned back to his works, picking up the quill shakily, beginning to feel threatened.

"That would give away the surprise," he felt Arnold's hand lay across his shoulder and immediately tensed. "Come with me now boy, Washington arrives soon."

"Yes sir."

He stood, wondering when Arnold would release him, only to be jerked back as Arnold looked at his desk.

"What's this then?" He flicked at the pages and pages of keys and symbols that Hamilton had dedicated his time to.

"Work for the General, sir." Hamilton went to collect and cover the pages, yet the general snatched his arm, holding it in a bruising grip. "Sir?"

"Where did you first see these markings, boy?"

"I didn't," he lied. "I saw them for the first time when Washington sent them to me." Alexander jerked his arm but the general held fast.

"Why does he believe them significant?"

More struggling, just as fruitless, "I'm not at liberty to say sir, kindly release my arm." Had he not been holding his quill so tightly Hamilton speculated he may have drawn his gun in anxiety.

"A senior officer just asked you a question."

"And I told you, that I don't-"

"General Washington has arrived sir." Kingsley's voice cut across any excuse Alexander had formulated, not casting a second glance to the position the two were in.

"Thank you," Arnold spoke before Hamilton could, "we'll join you momentarily."

"Yes, sir." Kingsley left and Alexander felt trapped, not like Kingsley would be all too inclined to help him, but still.

"Sir, I must insist that you release me." Hamilton had a dangerously suspicious look in his eyes.

As if just realizing his grasp on the boy Arnold instantly let go, patting his back and repeating apologies and excuses, yet it seemed inexplicably... fake.

"You are a good man Hamilton, I can see why the general finds such value in you. Shame he keeps you behind a desk."

Normally, Hamilton would agree wholeheartedly and make this known. Today however, he would not because he was on edge around Arnold and didn't want him to believe he wasn't loyal.

"The general placed me in a most prestigious position, I'm quite grateful for the opportunity," he started, their voices both back to conversational. "If he should chose to provide me a battalion I would be most grateful, in the name of his service, of course."

"Of course."

Hamilton didn't quite believe Arnold when he spoke of loyalty.

"General Washington, it is an honour and a pleasure to see you."

"Benedict, it has been too long. Please, we do not need to bother with formalities, you and I have been well acquainted for long enough now."

"Indeed, come inside, the weathers been terrible as of late," Arnold ushered Washington inside.

"It has. Did my aide-de-camp make it here from Boston?"

"Yes, two days ago. Though I'm afraid I've seen little of him in those two days, he hardly leaves his desk."

Washington chuckled fondly, "yes, that's Alexander for you. His mission in Boston was meant to be a week and a half at most, yet it was somehow expanded to an additional month."

Look at how his eye shines with fondness, and is that longing? The general is quite fond of the boy indeed, how interesting.

"Shall we take lunch in my study and then discuss some important matters?" It was the expected offer, as this is what Washington had come for, discussing the newest lines of placement, tactics, and bases with Arnold. And yet,

"Of course, would you delay for an hours' time however, I'm... tired." The trip wasn't a long one.

"Of course, allow my aide to take you to your rooms."

Washington nodded, striding away with Kingsley, filling the room with his pure power and authority. It was fitting that he was the leader of the continental army, because he could stand in a room with the king himself and would have the higher authority.

"The bell on the left is for the house staff, the right is connected to your aide-de-camp." Kingsley explained, and for a second Washington let his disgust show on his face. He couldn't imagine calling Alexander to him like some dog or waiter. That would not be how he was reunited with the boy.

"Speaking of, where are Lieutenant Hamilton's rooms?"

"His room is around the corner, I will summon him if you wish," Kingsley reached for the bell's cord but Washington was already catching it.

"I am not quite ready, I'll summon him when I see fit," he ground out, angered for a reason he did not wish to examine right now.

"Of course, my apologies Your Excellency." Arnold's aide bowed and left, casting a glance down the hall.

Washington could tell they were certainly more formal here than his base, based on how they constructed the social structure between servant and employer alone. Hamilton was not there to meet him, which meant he was either cross with him, or was instructed not to. It could be the latter, in a warped way, he could be cross for being forced to return to Washington's direct staff. Did he not enjoy it as much as Washington had thought he did?

Perhaps he didn't like that he would be here for two more weeks, seeing how they treat staff. Or maybe he still wanted a command, and that's why he enjoyed Boston. Did he enjoy Boston? He must have, he stayed there three additional weeks.

Washington had not even noticed himself leaving his rooms, let alone rapping his knuckles against the door of Hamilton's.

"Sir-" Alexander opened the door, taking a slight step back as he realized it was Washington that stood in front of him. "Oh, hello Your Excellency." Alexander pivoted awkwardly, allowing George access to his rooms, which were exponentially smaller than Washington's.

"Alexander," he replied.

This was supposed to be the part where he screamed at Hamilton, and put him in his place for his disobedience. He was expecting it, Alexander was expecting it, and yet it didn't come.

At the same time both men took an involuntary step towards the other, both with words never quite making it past their tongues. They both backed down. Finally, the silence was broken.

"You disobeyed me."

"I know."

"That might make it worse son."

"I'm not your son, and only a fool would not see that what I did was insubordination."

"Then what possessed you to do it? I could have you fired, perhaps worse, for it."

Alexander looked at Washington then, reminding the general that he truly was just a child in a war. Underneath his bravado he was insecure and scared, just trying to prove himself.

"Would you have me fired, Your Excellency?"

"I have no plans of it as of yet, Hamilton, but do not think I take insubordination lightly."

"I don't," his head bowed in submission, he could be so brash and so shy in the same hour, "I was truly repentant every time I denied you, Your Excellency. But, I couldn't leave, there were so many reasons why I couldn't leave… None of which I will waste your time with, just know that I am sorry."

Washington believed him.

"Forget it now. The storm I could forgive, I would have ordered you to stay there and brave it even if you did not decide to do so yourself, but the storm had passed for two weeks and you still refused to come ho- back."

The men stared at each other in silence before,

"They were all starving."

George flinched, he knew, he knew and he had tried to get them more food but he had to find food for the entire army, and Boston had seemed like a lost cause.

"I know. I tried."

"So did I."

Silence. He was just a boy, a boy who had turned twenty six weeks and three days ago, he was so young and he still thought he could help everyone in the world. He tried saving them all. No, he knew that everyone couldn't be saved, and that was sadder.

Washington clasped Alexander's shoulder, and with the ghost of General Arnold's touch still fresh in his mind, Alexander allowed himself to relax into it instead of pulling away.

"You did well Alex," George couldn't help the fondness that flooded his veins. "You mentioned, you had found something important in Boston, about the horses?"

'The horses' was the codename lovingly given to the spy system Alexander had come up with.

"Yes, a code. It's quite complex and does not use the alphabet the way we know it, I've been unable to break it sir, I did not want to risk it being intercepted had I sent it to you through missive."

"Very well, come along. You did not greet me when I arrived, I had worried that I angered you somehow," Washington joked as Hamilton picked up a blank piece of parchment and quill to take notes during the meeting.

Hamilton chuckled nervously, huffing a piece of hair away from his eyes due to his full hands, a mannerism so familiar to Washington that it made his heart swell.

"Despite my short fuse, I was not angry. I'm sorry I missed your arrival, I had become preoccupied."

"It is a very Hamilton excuse," he quipped, missing the way Alexander got a far off look. His 'preoccupation' was him trying to gather himself after Arnold's little visit.

Hamilton merely chuckled, following behind Washington, only to have the general slow till they were side by side.

"I've not seen you for four and a half weeks Hamilton, I'd enjoy it if you were not only a voice behind my shoulder."

Alexander smiled and nodded.

"General, I see you've brought your aide." Arnold regarded Alexander as he would every staff member, with the distain only an aristocratic snob could pull off. "I'd of brought my own had I known we'd be flaunting the excellent work of our staff."

George clenched his jaw but managed to keep his voice level, "Alexander is not something to flaunt, he offers valuable advice and takes excellent notes during meetings, I trust no other staff member as much as I trust Lieutenant Hamilton."

"Of course," he offered George a chair but neglected to give one to Alexander. "As long as he does not interrupt us."

Hamilton could see that George wanted to fight Benedict on this, so he intervened. They couldn't afford to have this two weeks be a spitting match between the two men.

"I won't, General Arnold. You won't even notice me." Washington turned his head at the sound of his voice, in which they locked eyes and Hamilton shook his head discreetly, conveying his message perfectly clearly.

Arnold nodded and took his seat, followed stiffly by Washington.

From his standing position Alexander was able to see both generals' frames, and he noticed that Arnold was carrying not only a gun but a dagger as well. It was not normal practice to come to these meetings armed, General Washington never carried his weapons to them.

It put him on edge.

A glass shattered, along with it Arnold's leather folder of documents.

"Blast!" The general chuckled, smiling at Washington who had stood in surprise.

"Allow me," Hamilton offered kneeling to retrieve the scattered documents. Arnold started as soon as Hamilton first touched the documents, causing Hamilton to cast a curious glance at them.

There. At the bottom of the corner, where the insignia goes, Hamilton knew that signal. He'd just spent a month trying to decode it.

He and Arnold's eyes locked.

A.N: Yup, so that's the next chapter. Again, sorry for the wait, I was just really not feeling it. Hope you all enjoyed it, and please leave a review so the next update doesn't take almost a year. XD