A/N:…..okay but I come back bearing a 3k chapter! Long by my standards! Thank you all for waiting. No, this story is not abandoned, it actually only has about 3 chapters left, but I have a life (upon occasion), a job and I'm terminally lazy. However, so many of you want me to finish this! I got an unprecedented number of comments on the last chapter, asking me to finish. This is a big chapter, and I hope you find it to your satisfaction!

Oh and also, I really do tell my students that Q and U are married. I have known many teachers to stage a QU wedding.

I don't want to waste the weekend

If you don't love me, pretend

January

A new year, a new start. That was what everyone else said, anyway. Eliza had never put much stock in that. A new day, a new year, none of that historically meant anything changed. Her father drank and gambled just as much on January 1st as he did on December 31st. They were just as broke at the end of December as they were in early January.

But this year felt different.

For one thing, Alex had woken her up with warm kisses pressed to her sternum, his brown eyes sleepy and soft. Their bed (theirs) was warm and safe and Eliza's eyes drifted closed again, to be met with Alex's hands cupping her face and retorting "sloth is not a good look on a woman of your rapidly advancing years, Schuyler." With a scoff, she shoved him hard and him sailing clean off the bed. He comes up with a smirk and it's actually the most adorable thing she's ever seen.

She visits her father that day, because he's still family. He's still some version of a parent.

(He tells her the same thing he tells her every time. You need to work this connection more. You need more out of this boy. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you, Eliza. I wish your sisters had thought of this, but you need more. Marriage is not always forever.)

It still leaves her with chills and a terrible voice niggling at the back of her mind.

February

Alex gets a letter of Cease and Desist from John Adams. He is so very proud. (He notices me, Eliza! He's read my letters!) He takes Eliza out for dinner at the fanciest restaurant he can find.

They smuggle bread rolls into a monogrammed napkin and debate how to sneak them out. Eliza only has a clutch purse, Alex didn't bring a bag. They debate for a good ten minutes on how to properly pilfer the bread rolls they don't need, until Alex's eyes light with an idea.

"Eliza," he hisses. "You were wearing a coat when you got here."

She frowns. "So?"

He rolls the napkin into a rounded shape, thrusts it at her. "Quick. Put this under your dress."

She looks at him like he's certifiably insane. "Alex, that'll never work."

"The waitress told us we were a sweet family, Eliza. They'll totally buy it. Do it."

"No way."

"Do it!"

"No!"

"Do it, and I'll show you the picture of me at the renaissance fair."

Eliza Schuyler (Hamilton) is no fool. She knows a good opportunity when she sees it.

Eliza glances around her and quickly shoves the cloth under her dress, settling it against her belly and arranging it into a circle-like shape.

Alex's grin spreads, and he stands and bows with a flourish. Eliza takes his offered hand and stands with fake effort, hand on her belly. The waitress comes back as Alex helps her into her coat.

"How sweet," she smiles. "When are you due?"

"May."

It's out before she realizes it.

"How lovely. You two will be great parents. I can tell."

Alex thanks her politely, and they make their exit at a fast pace, Eliza leaning into Alex and giggling.

The first bread roll falls out as they get to the car, but she's fairly certain nobody sees it, and that stupid voice at the back of her mind just won't shut up.

March

It's Falcon's birthday, and Eliza knows he has nobody to celebrate it with. He offers her half of his orange that his sister Athena stole as a birthday gift, complete with a note that reads "Hpee bitday".

She feels tears prick her eyes and texts Alex, Laurens, Laf and Herc immediately.

They pick the boy up (literally, Herc lifts him onto his shoulders) after school, along with his sister and take him to a children's play place. They feed the children as much junk as they can eat, Laurens wins Falcon and Athena an armful of toys each, and the sparkle in the boy's eyes isn't something Eliza will soon forget.

Their grandfather is passed out drunk when they take the children home and tuck them into bed.

Alex brushes the boy's hair out of his eyes gently, and Eliza watches with a twisting in her stomach.

April

Eliza teaches her students about the letters Q and U and how they are almost always together. They're married, she explains.

"Like you and Mr. Alex," one of her students puts in helpfully.

Yes, she nods.

The children are curious, quickly concocting a fictional narrative about the legendary love of Q and U, and propose they have their own wedding for the letters.

Eliza looks at their bright faces and can't say no.

Especially when she knows two people who deserve a little embarrassment for all that they have caused her and Alex.

They clear it with the principal and Martha, and Eliza tells Herc and Laf they are coming in to read a story to the children.

As soon as they come in, the children pounce. Herc is soon festooned in a cobbled together dress and a crown (he's Q for Queen, Ms. Schuyler!) and Laf in what can only be described as a cowboy outfit, with a laminated ukulele in his hands. They set out the carpets to form an aisle, cut weeds from the playground, and force Laf and Herc to kiss as the child ordaining them looks on sternly. Alex and Eliza nearly keel over laughing, and take many photos.

(And create their own Pinterest board, titled Q/U = Lerc, together forever (payback's a bitch))

May

They make the journey to Alex's parents in silence. Alex is so tense, she fears he may jump out of his skin.

Eliza can't quite believe she's here, that they're doing this. It's the culmination of months of mysterious phone calls, in the great unknown that surrounds Alex and his parents.

Because it'll piss my parents off.

That was why he had married her in the first place, and Eliza couldn't help but think the vast majority of those phone calls were about her.

During each, Alex yells louder. And after each, he comes back into their room looking increasingly ashen and tense.

In the beginning, she had soothed it away with gentle kisses, playful jibes and sometimes, even by pulling Alex down to their bed and shedding their clothing. But lately, nothing had been working. For hours after he had talked to his parents, Alex wasn't…there. Yes, he was physically there with her, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

And after months of these phone calls, he had bit out that he was going away for the weekend to visit his parents. He looked so apprehensive, so sad, that the decision was made in an instant.

On Friday, she had plunked her bag down next to his raggedy backpack.

He had looked at her, face lined in confusion.

"No husband of mine goes into the lion's den alone," was all she had said, and for once, words had failed Alexander Hamilton.

But the tight hug he gave her, the exhalation as his face pressed into her neck, that was better than any words could have been.

(~~)

The moment they step out of the car, the tension is so palpable Eliza actually shudders.

Rachael Hamilton is a stately, severe looking woman with brown hair and Alex's wide eyes.

Her husband is older, more portly, with a permanently sour expression.

Alex is a medley of the two. His mother's eyes, his father's dark hair. His mother's posture, his father's softer features.

Their resemblance seems to stop at physical, however.

"Alexander," Rachael greets her son, a stiff, almost harsh sound.

"Mother." The words are pressed out, Alex's jaw so tense Eliza is shocked he still has teeth.

Rachael tries to hug Alex and he accepts it briefly but doesn't reciprocate.

They both look at Eliza, eyes travelling up and down, but say nothing.

Alex, however, grasps her hand and turns to his parents.

"Mom, Dad, this is Eliza. My wife."

Like the party, his voice carries a mark of pride that warms her inside.

The Hamiltons nod at her in what they probably perceive to be a polite manner, but say nothing.

Alex actually looks disappointed at this, and she can see him screaming internally for them to say something, recognizes the signs of Alexander Hamilton raring to fight, but his parents refuse to instigate.

Maids show them to their room for the night, and the Hamiltons retire without ever greeting her by name.

(~~)

She doesn't have to wait long, however.

They don't make it two hours into the morning until the first conflict.

The next one comes 45 minutes after.

The third, an hour later.

Not in the room for the first three, Eliza doesn't even know what they are arguing over, but she catches snatches of conversation, and words like "money", "inheritance", and oddly "Aaron Burr". He comes up a lot in arguments. She hears Jefferson's name once, and then Alex's explosive yell after it.

He barely speaks to her after, but she sticks to his side, promising herself that the next time, she'll be there. She'll protect him. It seems an odd thing, her protecting Alex, but she hates the look on his face, hates his general persona in this cold place.

She doesn't have to wait long.

They seem to argue every half hour, and the next conflict pops up over forced conversation at lunch.

"So Eliza," Rachael begins, making Eliza head snap up at being actually referred to by name.

"Have you found life…comfortable, since your marriage?"

It's bait and she refuses to take it. She lays a hand on Alex's leg and nods politely.

"Very much, ma'am. Alex has been taking good care of me. "

"Yes, I'd imagine he is."

Eliza rubs her thumb over Alex's knee, a silent signal to calm down, not that that has ever worked before.

"He has told me so very little about you, Eliza. Tell me about yourself. What's your family like?"

"I'm very close to my sisters," she replies shortly.

"Yes," James Hamilton picks up for his wife. "That's good to know. And your father?"

They know, they clearly know, but Eliza will not break. She will not give them the satisfaction.

"He's made some mistakes, but he was a good father."

"Yes, there are many of those in prison," James mutters under his breath.

She tenses, but does not break. Alex, however, has curled his hands into fists. She wonders how it is that his parents get to him so easily, but thinks of her own father, and realizes she does understand.

Just get me out of here, Eliza. I'll fix it, I promise.

There's a pause before James finally feels bold enough to continue.

"What was his sentence, then? Ten years? I'd imagine you were not in good financial straights."

"I got by."

"With the help of my son, it seems."

"Mother – " Alex starts, but she speaks over him smoothly.

"He's helped, yes. I also work, and I'm in school."

"How very nice." They seem determined to instigate, and Eliza isn't sure how much longer she can hold Alex back.

"But school is expensive. Exactly how much is my son helping you with that? You do have to admit, it was awfully…convenient that you happened to marry at just the right time.

"Shut up!" Alex's voice cuts through the tension.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Alexander," and just like that, another fight.

The maids seem to recognize the signs immediately. They try to usher Eliza out of the room but she refuses to be taken.

They're in this together.

"Don't talk about Eliza like that," Alex hisses.

"She's the daughter of a felon," his mother sniffs.

"She's my wife," Alex barks, and it fills her with warmth.

"But for how long, Alexander? You never thought this through, just like so many things. She is after one thing, and you know it."

"You don't even know her."

"I know enough."

"No, you know nothing. Eliza loves me. We're in love."

"Is that what she told you? For how long, Alexander?" His father steps into Alex's personal space and Eliza goes to press herself against him.

"How long until she gets what she wants, and then disappears? Why, I'm not surprised she hasn't gotten pregnant yet, committed you to eighteen more years of sucking money from you."

"Shut up!" Alex's voice is bordering on a wail. "You know nothing about me, you know nothing about her! You never have!"

"We warned you about this when you moved to New York City, Alexander. We thought you were smarter. We even connected you with that Aaron Burr, hoping you might learn from him."

"Aaron Burr is a human Birkenstock," Alex grumbles. "He paid forty bucks for a coconut once. Not surprised that's' who you want me to be like."

His father circles closer, the glint in his eyes reminding Eliza of a tiger circling their prey.

"At least," his father snarls, leaning down into Alex's face. "Aaron Burr is not a murderer."

The reaction is instantaneous; Eliza would have caught it even if she weren't staring at Alex the whole time.

His face blanches of color, his whole posture drops, and in that moment, he looks more like a terrified six year old than any of Eliza's students have ever.

The Alex she knows lives to argue, lives to be right.

The Alex she knows lives to fight.

This doesn't look anything like the Alex she knows.

This Alex's eyes fill with tears and he turns and flees without a word.

She follows without thinking.

He's her husband.

His pain is her pain, and pain screams from every ounce of his being.

(~~)

He runs and she can barely keep up.

She stumbles over a few roots as he winds deeper into the woods behind the Hamilton estate, and she loses sight of him for a moment.

She only finds him again when she hears footfalls and the gurgling sound of water. He's sitting by a shallow stream, his head in his hands.

It's a beautiful expanse, willow branches hanging low, stream gurgling in the background.

Alex sits on the edge, his entire posture screaming defeat, grief radiating from every pore.

She tries to take his hand but he pulls himself away.

"Don't," he rasps. "Don't touch me. Don't come near me, Eliza. Just leave."

"Alex," she breathes. "Look at you. You're shaking. I'm not leaving. I want to help, just let me help."

"You can't," he sniffles. "You can't fix this. You can't fix what I did."

She lifts a hand tentatively to his hair and strokes the long black strands back.

"Alex, it's time. Don't keep this from me anymore. Why did your dad say you killed someone?

He takes a deep breath.

"Because I did."

It's certainly not the answer she expects. As brash and abrasive as Alex is, he's also gentle and pacifistic. To imagine him hurting someone, let alone killing someone, borders on impossible.

"Who?" Eliza breathes softly.

"My brother. James."

His brother. Eliza hadn't even known he had a brother.

Her mind flashes back to that day in Alex's room, the picture of the little boy. He had looked like Alex. It clicks in her mind; that was James.

She inches closer and lays a hand on his arm.

"Alex," she whispers. "What happened to James?"

"James and I were who each other had, through all of our parents' shit. I practically raised him. I changed his diapers. I held him when he cried. I took him to school. He was my responsibility."

He looks at Eliza as if he is trying to tell her something, but she has no idea what.

He pauses for long moments before continuing.

"I was twelve. James was eight. That day, he came into my room and asked me to play at our spot, by the river."

Alex swings his arm around to indicate where they are.

"I had just gotten back from school, my mother was already giving me shit, I was tired…I told him no. But he just kept asking, and asking, and asking. So finally I agreed."

Alex's eyes shine with tears.

"I took him, but I wasn't there. I was lying down. Not looking at him, not paying attention even though he was my responsibility, Eliza. It was my job."

He breaks off, and tears begin spilling down his cheeks, the first time she has seen him cry.

She looks at her husband and tries to imagine the cold, sarcastic Alex of only a few months ago, in the early days of their marriage. She can't find him anywhere.

That was Hamilton, she guesses. She sees only Alex.

"What happened, love?" she whispers, the term of endearment slipping out without her meaning it to.

Alex is silent, and she thinks for a moment that he won't say. He's already shared more than he ever has.

"He hit his head."

The words are a low mumble.

"He hit his head on a branch. My eyes were closed, I didn't see. I didn't see, Eliza, and then he fell in. He fell in, and by the time I saw, he was under the water. And I tried, Eliza, I tried so hard to get him out, but I couldn't. I wasn't there on time. And I was yelling, and nobody came and…."

Alex is openly sobbing now, the same look in his eyes that she saw after Falcon fell into the water.

He's gone, lost to his past.

"I tried, Eliza, but he wasn't breathing and by the time the ambulance came they….they couldn't do anything."

His shoulders shake and she scoots closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, her heart breaking with his.

"No!" he shouts, heaving out of her embrace.

"No, I killed him! I killed my brother! It was my job, and if I had just…I tried Eliza, but I couldn't….I killed him…but I'm sorry, Eliza, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I tried, I didn't mean to…"

His breath comes in gasping sobs, his shoulders heaving, and she waits no longer before pulling his head to her chest and wrapping him in an embrace, filled with words of comfort, ready to tell him again and again that it wasn't him, it wasn't his fault, he was not responsible for this, but that isn't what he needs now.

"I'm sorry, James. Oh god, oh god, I'm so sorry, so sorry…"

"Shh," she soothes, carding her fingers through sweaty hair. "It's okay. I forgive you. Alex, I forgive you. It's okay Alex, I forgive you."

That's what it takes, in the end. He comes apart completely in her arms, shaking with sobs, stuttering out apologies, wailing out his pain for what feels like hours.

Eventually, his sobs finally calm to hiccups and he reluctantly disentangles himself.

He looks at her, eyes shining with tears, as if she is all that's tethering him to the world.

"We're real, Eliza, right? This is…this is never going to go away, right?"

Her stomach knots painfully, for a medley of reasons.

You need a lifetime commitment out of the boy.

But Alex looks so plaintive, so heartbroken. Eliza strokes his damp hair back from his eyes and kisses him gently.

"Never, Alex. We're real. I'm not going anywhere."

(~~)

She supposes she means it all the more a week later, when result on the stick lying on her shaking leg reads "positive."

There's a blaze of light in every word

It doesn't matter what you heard