Author's Note: Seeing as the series ended with Abe's letter to Thomas, it seemed fitting to end this fic in the same way. This is taken pretty much verbatim from the show. I only added like 1 paragraph. You'll know which one it is.


"Dear Thomas,

As I look back on that day some 30 years ago, when our first crop made it to harvest, I remember thinking how you had your whole life in front of you. Later, you say you wish you could fight for your country just like your father did, but… I never told you everything I did during the war. Tonight, I want to tell you the truth.

The revolution never ends. It was hallowed as a triumph of the righteous over the wicked. But the battle lines were not clearly drawn. The real war, the one between good and evil, was fought within ourselves. How else to explain that Robert Rogers, a man who tried to kill me, taught me the trick that saved our crop and thus our family? Or that Edmund Hewlett, a man I tried to kill, became a great man of science? He once told me the universe was a cold place where love had no purpose. Yet he became an astronomer of renown and married the sister of Sir William Herschel, whose writings on the stars you admire so much.

I grappled with these contradictions, though they were far from the most troubling. In Upper Canada, the hated Colonel Simcoe, now Governor Simcoe, abolished slavery in his province. The man who took your grandfather from us, who oppressed so many colonists, gave freedom to generations of others.

Just before the British left New York, General Washington told Governor Carleton that he intended to take possession of all negroes and other property of the inhabitants of the southern states. He asked for the boats to be turned around. The general didn't know his own Agent 355 was aboard one of them. We only learned this years later, after our ring received a letter written in code and sent from Nova Scotia.

The greatest war is the one fought within ourselves. Washington wished to return to his farm, yet was called back to serve his country as the only man who could unite our turbulent states. It may be that the price of our new union was to overlook out greatest divide. Or it may be that the bill will come due with a vengeance.

These contradictions tortured me for years. And yet not every path turns unexpectedly. Some lead right where they were pointing. Your Uncle Brewster remained water bound as Captain of the Active, guarding our coasts. A smuggler turned lawman. And Congressman Tallmadge, well, you know I never stop talking about him. Ben was always the most well-known patriot of our ring and a true believer in the cause. And yet, when Congress sought to reward the men that would capture John Andre, Tallmadge rose to denounce them as criminals and scoundrels, claiming that when they removed Andre's boots, it was to search for plunder and not to detect treason. Tallmadge broke out vow of silence this one time only to defend his enemy in the war. For if we spies don't stand for one another, who will?

I have always believed that our ring has always been the best kept secret of the war. I am certain, if not for that connection, many of us who were members of it would've fallen out of contact decades ago. When we agreed to become members of the ring, we were not seeking recognition. As you know, there is no pride in being a spy. That is why whenever one is caught, he is hanged for his crimes; he is hanged for his cowardice. That is the reason for our silence. I always liked the way your Aunt Molly put it. When I asked her about it once, she said "I'll let my stories be whispered when I'm gone". So, I hope that one day, maybe, that may be the case for all of us who were a part of that ring.

Of course, the British held Andre as a hero and quickly forgot about Benedict Arnold. None of his future endeavors came to fruition, and he died in his bed in 1801. His wife, long rumored to be Andre's lover, returned to her family in Philadelphia. She passed in 1804. And among her personal things, they discovered a lock of Andre's hair, given to her when she was young and in love.

Love is something easy to conceal but hard to kill. Though I love your mother, I also never stopped loving a woman named Anna Strong. Even though someone is gone, your love for them lives on. I will always love you. You fell to a British musket at the Battle of Bladensburg, August 24th, 1814.

The revolution never ends. You always wanted to fight for your country, just like your father. But I never told you everything I did during the war. Perhaps, someday, somehow, you'll get this letter. But if not… I'll tell you myself when I see you. And you can share with me all you've learned… from Heaven.

All my love.


Final Author's Note: To start things off, some thank yous are in order:

Season 4 was unofficially sponsored by La Croix. I literally drank 30+ cans as I wrote all of Season 4.

Also I would like to give you a big thank you as well. Thank you so much for reading this! This is the first piece of writing I have ever finished. Thank you everyone for all the kinds words and encouragement! I really appreciate it.

Best wishes,
Nicole