Original Publishing Date: 12-05-19

Author Note: This is definitely quite late, but I am very excited to present you the fourth day of Hamliza month! This day's prompt was: Rain or snow, and I really loved how this turned out! I hope you all do too!

"Whether the weather is cold, or whether the weather is hot. We'll be together whatever the weather, whether you like it or not." -Anonymous

The walls of the Hamilton residence shook under the weight of the storm that was flooding the streets of New York City raged overhead. The rain had begun sometime during the mid-afternoon and only grown more severe over time, leading to a lot of hearth fires and cozy nights in for all of the families and animals across the land. As for herself, Elizabeth Hamilton had been absolutely insistent upon making sure that one of their unused horse stalls was equipped to handle stray and feral animals seeking refuge and was only just now stumbling back into the main house with her hair and dress positively soaked.

"I know what you're going to say, my Hamilton, and I will simply say that it was worth all your worrying!" She called into the very dimly lit house, her fingers quickly undoing her sodden braids and ringing them out over the currently empty suds bucket.

The lack of response was deafening. She frowned to herself but attempted to brush it off, settling on drying herself and changing into a new shift and home-appropriate gown before she settled into making dinner. By the time she looked up from her usual tasks, she was surprised to see just how much time had passed with nary a word from her beloved husband. It was not so much that he could not be fairly quiet when he was absorbed in his work; that was unusual. But for him to have doted on her in the slightest when she knew he'd be worried about her doing more masculine activities combined with the knowledge that he'd been particularly fussy about getting home before the dark clouds released their contents, something was clearly wrong.

"Alexander?" She called into the darkness once again, abandoning her cooking as she crept toward the parlor. "Alexander, are you home?"

Surely he had not left during the time she'd taken outdoors. She frowned more decisively and scooped up one of her candlesticks, climbing up their stairwell and peering into his office, only to find it empty. It was at this point that she began making her way across their upstairs' rooms were quickly, feeling her own anxiety begin at the base of her gut and pool until it felt like it was suffocating her. She finally slid back downstairs on the railing, almost jogging as she checked their library and parlors before finally sitting down in defeated on their bed.

"Where did you go?" She murmured to herself, another clap of thunder shaking the walls right after making her just how aware how lonely this home felt without him at such a late hour. "Surely you aren't reckless enough to attempt travel, even for work…"

A small creak had her head snapping up. She was positively baffled to see their wardrobe door opening ever-so slightly, and a pair of bright blue eyes peeking out from within the pitch blackness. "Betsey? Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

"Alexander!" Eliza cried, swiftly opening the door further as she placed the candlelight on the floor. "What on Earth are you doing in here?! I have been looking all over the house for you, and I was beginning to think of asking the neighbors if they'd seen you leave, and I was so worried-"

"My love, what reasoning could I possibly have to justify going out in such horrendous weather?" Alexander asked in a weak voice that was entirely uncharacteristic of himself.

"I suppose it is the same kind of logic that would cause you to hide within our wardrobe like a silly child!" Eliza scolded, but the heat in her words quickly dissipated when the flame flickered, and she got a proper look of his weary, rosy face. "…Why are you tucked away like this at any rate, my dearest husband?"

"I-" He began, but he was interrupted by a devastatingly loud crack of the sky and a fresh wave of showers that pounded their roof fiercely, and she was confronted by the truth of this situation before he could make up an excuse.

All at once, his demeanor crumpled and he drew in on himself, his knuckles white as he gripped the wardrobe's entrance and shuddered with a tear-laced gasp. He grimaced at once, his eyes cast away from her as he promptly shut the door and audibly shifted back into the tiny room. Eliza longed to comfort him, to talk to him down from his undeniable terror and discomfort at such an intense downpour, but something within her beckoned her to wait a bit before trying again. Reluctantly but determinedly, she retrieved the candle and finished preparing their meal, assembling it into big bowls and sturdy wooden plates as she brewed hot mugs of calming tea. Once everything was arranged on a thick, curved platter, she set a matchbox and four candles- two lit and two as backup- on the edge before finally marching back into their bedroom and using one foot to knock again on the closet door.

"Betsey, darling, I pray that you do not patronize my reaction. I am all too aware already how miserable and childish this is, but I fear I have not been able to shake it throughout my maturing years," her husband's mournful voice replied, and her heart positively broke for him.

"I brought dinner," she replied gently but divisively. "I do not intend to have it alone. May I please join you?"

There was a long pause, so much so that she feared he'd reject her attempt to help. But then the door creaked open again, and she was able to set the platter inside and climb into his extended arms and expectant lap. At first, they remained like that as the weather raged above and all around them, his damp face burrowed into her shoulder as she laced her arms over his and her body pressed firmly into his figure. Beneath her, he was trembling as though he were a leaf amid all of this chaotic weather, and this thought was brought her full understanding of his terror and sorrow. This was not simply a case of an aversion to storms, but a severe fear born out of his experiences living through a hurricane that fully devastated his island and childhood town. It was no wonder that he was like this now despite the fact he had faced more horrors and perils than unpleasant weather conditions, and the thoughts of all he'd endured without telling her made her ache terribly.

"Are you hungry?" She murmured as the rumbling overhead dulled and some of the tyrannical drumming finally found a bit of reprieve.

"…I am," he admitted in a small voice.

She adjusted as little as possible to bring up the platter, settling both of their plates on her lap until he gingerly scooted himself until she was sat between his legs rather than directly atop him, allowing them both more room for their meal and comfort. In favor of eating with no other sounds other than the storm, Eliza talked about her household chores and how she'd ensured the stall would be a sturdy, warm place for all kinds of potential animals, only pausing to take occasionally bites and sips or to gingerly touch his face or hands to remind him that she was there with him.

"Your cooking is as divine as always, my darling wife," Alexander contributed during one such pause. "Thank you for providing it to me, even to this…unusual location."

"It is no problem, my sweet," she assured easily as she smoothed a gown away from his slightly hunched shoulders. "I am glad you enjoyed it. Would you like a book or two for entertainment now?"

Immediately, his arms secured themselves around her once more and he returned his face to her shoulder, so she continued. "Or perhaps I could recall something from memory?"

"That would be lovely, Betsey," he responded quietly, so much so that she was nearly unable to hear him.

Eliza leaned back into him and began simply, telling a few of the children's stories that she'd read so often to her siblings that they'd permanently imbedded themselves in her memory. She moved thereafter to recounting the plots of her most recent literature and was well into the middle of the fourth story's middle section when she realized that he was fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb the first peace he'd evidently felt since they got home, she carefully lifted up one of the burning candles and blew it out before relaxing fully against him.

She did not remember when she dozed off, but the candlelight was hardly above lingering smoke when she opened her eyes again. Alexander was still soundly passed out, and as she carefully rekindled the wick, she realized with a fond smile that his face was adorably wrinkled up in the way it always did when he was deep in thought. Lord only knew what he could be dreaming so deeply about, she considered as she carefully maneuvered her way from his grip and cleaned up their dishes as well as the unused candles. When she peeked back into the closet, she found him curled into himself, his face now more pained and paler than she'd left him.

"I admit, this is not how was expecting the spend this evening with you…" She whispered as she knelt to his side, brushing his curls gently from his face until his expression relaxed again. "But I will do this again and again if it will take even a bit of the pain from your soul, my most beloved."

Despite his previous distress, he was still soundly asleep- more so than he typically was, which she was admittedly grateful for- and Elizabeth was well aware there was no way she could possibly lift him on her own. She settled instead for retrieving their quilts and sheets from their bed, laying them each over her husband before tucking their pillows beneath his head and right beside him. Once everything was set up, she undressed as quickly as possible, cooing and stroking his face intermittently until she was nestled into their temporary nesting. The last step was to blow out the lingering flame and tuck into his arms, which welcomed her with just as much warmth and invited her with little fuss to return to her own slumber.

The morning light was much brighter than she was used to when Elizabeth roused. She also found herself to be atop their bed, and it was not long before she realized that this was not at all how she'd been when the night was dark. She hurriedly got to her feet and began making her way to Alexander's office, but found him instead in the kitchen and hard at work on a meal.

"Darling, you don't have to do my chores…" She crooned gently as she gently wrapped her arms round him. "You could have simply woken me; I appear to have slept in terribly as is."

"Nonsense!" Much to her relief, the color and assertive confident had returned to her Alexander's face, and he was bright with his usual passion as he leaned down to nuzzle her. "You have done so much for me, much of which was unfounded or unexpected of you. I shall repay you in every way I am, my Betsey!"

"You don't have to repay me!" Eliza exclaimed despite her own warm smile. "You are very generous, my Hamilton, but-"

"I will hear nothing of the sort!" Alex interjected with a smile, stirring his porridge-esque concoction before turning around to kiss her and lead her toward their back door. "And now, my most beloved wife, please take a look at this new day! Our garden is just as grateful for all the rain as I have been!"

"You have been?" She inquired, her hand squeezing his as she joyfully took in their thriving garden. "Alexander-"

"It brought us more intimately together, I used…well, I occasionally still do fear that," he continued with a gentle, sincere smile to her. "But I love the feelings I achieve when we are together like that. No matter the weather we must endure, if it means we are able to have many more moments like we had this past night…I am happy to do so every time."

"Oh, my Alexander…" Elizabeth positively beamed and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with passion to match his own as they practically danced around the doorway while the sun cast warm beams across them. "Of course."