Well... we're back. And your writer graduated high school with their AA degree and is in a top 5 public university! So I should theoretically be smarter... and know how to write better. We'll see about that. Sorry for my trashy writing, I read it and some areas make me cringe but I don't know how to fix it so I'm just leaving it be for once... I know, it's shocking

Colonial Song by Percy Grainger

watch?v=L_V51DoQVGI

Thank you for all the kind words in the last chapter. The link above is a recording of a piece we played in band last year. Given its backstory and the overall feel of the piece, I thought it fit nicely.

Published October 6, 2021

Connecticut, April 4, 1777.

After several hours rowing across The Sound, the regiment finally reached the shore. Exhausted, it was decided that they would camp there for the night before continuing on to rendezvous with General Arnold.

It didn't take long for Will to fall asleep, Ben only wished he could say the same for himself.

He was worried about him. For most of the raid, Will had been uncharacteristically quiet and distracted.

He noticed Will's still from near the doorway, desperately trying to stay awake. Poor kid, Ben didn't blame him. Maybe he was simply overthinking what happened earlier, that Will was just tired. It certainly would explain the spacing out.

That didn't stop his worry,

Surely Will would have noticed one of Selah's men and pieced together that something had happened. Ben noticed when the firing stopped, and that only one side had been shooting. When the messenger ran in, Ben knew something happened on the hill. Obviously, Selah had maintained his position and hadn't run out of powder. So why did he stop pressuring the British?

But Will continued to gaze through the doorway as if nothing had happened.

He spaced out for the third time, and Ben started to worry. They hadn't known each other that long, perhaps it was a normal occurrence coupled with exhaustion. But the nagging feeling that it was something else didn't leave.

Then suddenly the quick-minded teen he knew was back. His eyes slightly widened before blinking, the distant gaze shifted to one of focus.

But one question beckoned at the back of his mind, for how long?

Ben wanted to believe everything was alright. He wanted to believe that Will was just tired. But he knew something was weighing on his mind.

Caleb seemed to catch on. " You worried about him too?"

Ben perked at the question. "What?"

"Pickler," he clarified. "I only spoke to him for a bit, but he sure does grow on you."

He smiled for a second. Caleb was right, the young captain made quite the impression. "Something's wrong. He would be alert one moment and then staring out the next."

"If you ask me, he's homesick."

Ben nodded, it was a plausible explanation. But for some reason, he felt that there was more to the story.

Caleb already knew his childhood friend was attempting to find the cause of concern for the newest addition. But unlike him, Caleb had his own solution for helping Pickler.

Both of them taking the kid under their wing.

Even though he had Hamilton... Washington's newest Aide-de-Camp couldn't be with them for missions. But luckily William Pickler was partnered up with one Benjamin Tallmadge and Caleb Brewster.

Ben could handle all the moral guidance and officer stuff, and he could take care of all the fun. He had already offered to teach Will axe throwing, why not add more to the list. Maybe even sneak him out away from Old Man Sackett.

"What idea of yours has you smiling now?"

"Well, Hamilton ain't here. And he's the closest thing to family that the kid's got. So, for the time being, what if we fill in Hamilton's role."

"And what if he doesn't want that?"

"Do you really believe that Ben?"

Ben went silent. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Will uncomfortable by overstepping. But Caleb had a point.

"I'll think about it."

"That's good enough for me," Caleb said, patting Ben's shoulder before heading off to sleep.

Abe lifted his gaze from the floor, "Samuel is dead?"

Ben only nodded at first before speaking. "Selah was with him when he passed." His voice then hardened, "So I can confirm for you that, yes, The Jersey is a death sentence, and I will not see my father sent there."

"So... so this raid is family business? It's personal?"

"You saying you wouldn't do the same?" Caleb accused.

"No, no, I'm just saying it makes sense, is all." His tone became more aggressive, "More sense than Washington sending you both here anyway."

"He granted me discretion to advance my mission as I see fit," Ben defended, his tone matching Abe's.

He took another glance towards Will, hoping he could help. But the Captain, at a loss of what to do, stood there.

Will couldn't think clearly, the inner turmoil he had been feeling the entire day fogged his mind. He wanted to crumble to the ground, he would have if it weren't for his frozen mind.

Ben's focus shifted when Abe spoke in a quiet but threatening voice. "Oh, I see. So you're gonna have to explain it all to him, then. Good. When you do, please inform 711 that his precious Mr. Culpepper is finished. I am out."

"Nobody is out. Your standing in this town is intact and I intend to keep it that way."

"I'm not a soldier in your army, Major. I don't have to take your orders." The two glared at each other before the former agent continued. "But you're right about one thing. My standing in this town is all you've got left. Now, I wasn't lying when I told you Hewlett would never surrender. And you know there's no chance that you take that church before some force on this island shows up."

Ben turned over to Will, hoping he would have a second opinion. However, he was so lost in thought he didn't even realize Ben was calling his name. It was only when he touched the boy's arm did he jump.

"So who's it going to be?" Culper, still skeptical, pointed at Ben, "You?" and then to Caleb, "Him? Because if I recall correctly, you two failed at getting rid of Simcoe. If you come up with me then it's all over."

Ben and Caleb shared a look. Had they simply followed through and got rid of Simcoe they would never have been in this position in the first place. Their families wouldn't be threatened by the madman.

"That's why I'm going."

Ben jumped to protest before anyone else. "Will, no."

He wouldn't- no he couldn't allow him to go. There was too much risk, Simcoe was dangerous and unpredictable. Even if Will were in the right headspace, he would protest against it.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, pulling the young Captain aside.

He was supposed to be learning field tactics, real experience, not being in direct danger. It was hard to explain, but he had developed almost a brother-like bond with the younger officer. Will's earlier distractedness worried him. He worried that something would happen and Will's mind would shut down.

Will nodded, "I can handle myself"

That was what Ben was afraid of. That Will overestimated himself. Sure he may be fine now, but the mental shutdowns could strike at any moment. He wasn't convinced of the idea, but he also refused to endanger Abe.

Will's eyes opened. He blinked a few times as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked up, surprised to see it was still night. He closed his eyes again, desperately hoping that he would fall back asleep.

He didn't.

Events from the past day replayed in his mind, no longer muffled from pure exhaustion. He gave up on his attempts and pushed himself up to face the smoldering fire.

"Can't sleep?"

He glanced up to see that he wasn't the only one awake.

"I could... until I couldn't," he joked.

Ben let out a silent laugh, glad to see that Will was back to cracking jokes. "At least you got some rest."

Will raised an eyebrow, "Have you been awake this entire time?"

Ben shrugged. It had only been three hours since they made camp, but that didn't excuse his lack of sleep. He still had his worries about the boy and thoughts on Caleb's proposed plan.

He looked back to find Will absently staring at the glowing embers.

"Everything alright?"

Will jumped slightly, "Hmm? Oh, sorry, I... got lost in thought."

"But is everything alright?" Ben asked again.

"Yeah, everything's fine."

Gwen hated how easily the lie came out. She'd been doing it long enough that it sounded natural. And then she realized it had almost been a year. In a little over three months, it would mark a year of lying, a year of heavy secrets, a year since she ran away.

Ben didn't fail to notice that the young Captain immediately fell silent after answering. Of course he'd say everything was fine when it obviously wasn't.

The Major shook his head, "There' something bothering you. Something that's been on your mind since the raid began."

The other's anxiety rose, "I'm sorry about being absent-minded-"

"Why on Earth are you apologizing?"

"Because it shouldn't have happened. I should have been alert, not staring off or falling asleep. I'm supposed to be learning field experience not daydreaming about-"

Will cut himself off before finishing his sentence.

"About what?"

"Nothing," came an almost inaudible reply.

"I want to help you. Do you trust me?"

The stillness was almost unbearable, waiting for an answer. Will gave a slight nod.

"I -," he paused, unsure of what to say. "In a few months, it will be a year since I left."

Of course Caleb was right about Will being homesick.

"I guess I never realized how long I've been away or how much I missed them. I know it's silly, I made the choice to leave, I knew what I was getting into."

"You're still allowed to miss them."

"Not if it causes me to freeze multiple times in the middle of a battle. I left, no I ran away... I wonder if I made the right decision at times. I constantly think of them, if they would ever forgive me. To the point where even the slightest thing will cause me to freeze. Is that normal?" The younger snapped.

He didn't mean to have an edge in his voice. It wasn't Ben's fault that he couldn't keep himself together.

"Yes," Ben said.

Will looked up, a bit surprised at the validation.

"Because I know that feeling well," Ben continued.

"Feeling guilty?"

Ben nodded, "wondering what you could've done differently. If you could have spared others. But you're where you belong, you felt a need to join and took the risk. Sometimes that's all we can do."

Ben gave the Captain a final smile before getting up. They watched him leave to walk around the camp before looking back at the remnants of the fire.

Gwen had a lot to think about... but for once she could think clearly. Ben's talk didn't solve everything but it took a massive amount of guilt off her shoulders. She snapped a twig and tossed it at the red embers. Ben had a point, she felt a need to join. Where would she be if she didn't? Still at home and perhaps visit her father during the winter if he even let her? Here she could do something other than raise money for the war effort or acquire provisions. Her skills and input were considered and valued.

She yawned, not realizing how tired she was. She would have to thank Ben in the morning.

"Mr. Woodhull, please express my thanks to the Major for freeing the survivors as well as my wish that he administers the proper justice to Captain Simcoe."

"I will. Culper."

"What?"

"Tell Washington it's Samuel Culper, not Culpepper. I won't sign the letters as anyone else."

Ben nodded, beginning to join the rest of his men

"And Ben"

Ben turned around

"That Captain of yours doesn't hesitate to start up a fight. Keep an eye on him."

Ben knew he should sleep. He didn't sleep the night prior and they were about to rendezvous with General Arnold. But Abe's words still resonate in his head, "keep an eye on him." It was exactly what Washington had told him when assigned this mission, and look how well that turned out.

He remembered waiting for both of them to exit the church. The thoughts that went through his mind in the excruciating minutes of waiting.

He trusted the bright captain, but analyzing the field and actually fighting were two very different things. He was part of an artillery company, barely seeing any close combat. And then all the times he seemed to disassociate with the world

He had noticed that he had been in and out the entire raid. He would be disassociated with events around him and then snap back when needed. But once it was over, he was spacing out again. Ben worried what may happen if he slipped back into the pattern inside the church. He needed to be quick

When Simcoe had shot Caleb's uncle. He immediately thought of the safety of Abraham and Will. Caleb was soon added to the list when he ran towards the garrison.

"No, Caleb, stop! Caleb!" he had to pin his friend to the ground to keep him from getting shot. "Calm down. Caleb. Caleb, calm down."

He couldn't even describe his relief when Abraham exited the church with the rest of the captives. Will's delay behind the others caused a spike of anxiety, only for it to disappear just as quickly.

It still didn't stop him from wishing that he hadn't let the boy go. The distant look told him everything he needed to know, Will shouldn't have had to go through that. It wasn't even his family at risk

Ben sighed, it was almost dawn. While he was glad to have broken through to Will, and his father was moving to Connecticut; a dozen more things kept him awake. Dreading past events, the eventual report to General Washington, and Caleb's idea.

"What are you doing still up?"

Ben turned around, "I never expected a whaler to say that."

Caleb laughed and sat next to his friend, "But you're no whaler."

Ben only rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"So, did you think about it?"

"Yes."

Caleb had a hopeful look in his eye, "And?"

"And, it's a good idea."

"I didn't quite hear you. What's a good idea?" Caleb teased.

Ben sighed at his friend's antics. "Yes, I agree to participate in your scheme."

"Spoken like a true Yale boy. Though I knew you would, especially after giving the kid a pep talk."

Ben stared at his friend, "Were you- were you eavesdropping?"

"Did you expect something different?"

"You said-," Ben stopped and sighed, "I don't know why I even bother arguing this."

Caleb bounced back and forth on his heels. "Guess I should go wake him up then."

"Caleb it's not even-"

"-What? Almost morning? I beg to differ."

Ben glanced towards the horizon, seeing the first hints of dawn. The night couldn't have passed that quickly, could it?

Caleb let out his signature cackle.

"Just go," he said, waving his friend off before rubbing his temples. It was going to be a long day.

"Pickler? You up?"

Will squinted at the early morning light, seeing a figure with a wide-brimmed hat.

Caleb.

"Maybe?" he said.

"Well, you'll want to. We're heading back to Morristown."

"Morristown?" Will questioned, sitting up.

"Yeah, Arnold finished up in Connecticut and is heading to Philadelphia to get paid or something."

Will gave Caleb an incredulous look, pulling a few leaves out of his hair.

Caleb laughed, "I'll give yeah a few minutes."

Will shook his head smiling and quickly began preparing to return.

"Glad to see you're quick," Caleb joked.

"Just wait to see what I'm like in a hurry," Will quipped.

"Maybe I'll wake you up later to see it."

They went to prepare the horses when Caleb spoke.

"Abe told me about what happened in the church."

Will stopped saddling Gemma and looked to the boatman, "I am sorry about what happened to your uncle."

"That's what I needed to talk to you about."

Will shook his head, "I could've done something."

"And I should have killed Simcoe when I had the chance. Abe stopped you so you wouldn't be next. If Simcoe had his way he would have killed you next for getting in his way."

Will paused, he hadn't thought of it that way. He assumed Woodhull was trying to stay to the plan.

"You have a lot of people looking out for you Pickler, more than you may realize, "Caleb said sincerely before smirking. "I could go on and ramble about how you don't need to do things alone, but I think you get the idea."

The Captain let out a silent laugh, "yes, I think I do."

"Well, then let's see what Benny Boy is up to and go back to camp."

"Lead the way."

Morristown, New Jersey, April 12.

Washington entered his office, still not used to the sight. A neat stack of letters prepared for his

signature replaced the chaotic piles of unopened correspondence.

Once Hamilton joined, his staff fell into a methodic rhythm. Hours he would have spent answering long overdue correspondence were now filled with fulfilling his appointed role of leading the army.

Though it wouldn't hurt to have another mind at work.

So far, Captain Pickler had proven himself capable of the task. Hamilton never failed to mention that he willingly finished compiling Major Tallmadge's reports when he was otherwise engaged.

If that Captain had even a fraction of Hamilton's work ethic, he would prove to be an invaluable asset.

"What is it?"

Looking up, he saw his wife at the doorway.

"I'm just thinking."

"About your aides? Or should I say, military family?"

"You know me too well."

"I'm your wife, you should be worried if I didn't."

He finally let out a soft smile. It had been hard in the dark stressful time of being Commander-in-Chief.

"I do have my own question regarding one of your aides. Where is Captain Pickler?"

"Accompanying Major Tallmadge in Connecticut."

"Hmm."

"Has he grown on you," he said all too knowingly.

"I like to believe he's grown on everyone," she said, walking across the room. "Bright and young, full of life. Though he seems to get intimidated."

"Give him time. He'll settle into a comfortable place soon enough, one where he is not so intimidated. And with Hamilton and Tallmadge with him, I doubt it will be that long."

Martha chuckled.

"What?"

"It's just how you treat your aides, they've all grown on you. Especially your newest additions."

Those three... are rare talents. I don't know how they do it. The way Colonel Hamilton works, it's- it's incredulous. Major Tallmadge managed to create a spy ring that is virtually impenetrable. And Captain Pickler... he sees things in a way very few men do."

He paused for a moment, realizing he had said maybe a bit too much, and added, "Though I don't know where I would be without any of my staff."

His wife quickly caught onto his diversion. "I think that you also see a bit of yourself in them as well."

"I wouldn't say-"

"George," she gently interrupted. "You see yourself in those boys." She smiled when he glanced away. "There's nothing wrong with that, just make sure you aren't too hard on them."

He finally met his wife's gaze. "Where would I be without you Patsy?"

He was once alone again in the undisturbed peace of his office, reading and signing off correspondence drafted by his aides. But no matter how much he worked, he could never distract himself from the thought in the back of his head.

Where was she?

Although no one could have predicted her actions, he blamed himself. As her father, he should have seen it coming.

In every letter and report that came his way, he scoured the text looking for some clue to her whereabouts. He dared not tell a soul about her disappearance, if the information fell into the wrong hands he would only be putting her in greater danger.

He worried enough about his wife coming for the winter, but if word reached the British that his daughter was fighting...The protocols that would protect his family, not that the British honored them based on their treatment of American prisoners, wouldn't protect her. They would search for her if she wasn't already injured from the fighting.

He had to find her.

But he couldn't do it alone, he needed someone who could discreetly search for her. Someone who could procure intelligence...

Just then a knock at the door broke his thoughts.

"Yes?"

Tilghman popped his head through the door, "Sorry to bother you sir, but we just received word that Arnold has defeated the British in Connecticut and is on route to Philadelphia, and Major Tallmadge and his detachment will be returning soon."

"Thank you, Tilghman."

"Sir," he nodded, closing the door.

He shook his head, the timing of receiving the news while considering seeing the spymaster was near the level of divine intervention.

He paced the room before glancing back at the remaining stack of papers left. He could take a break.

"Mr. Sackett, may I have a word?"

The spymaster looked up, quite puzzled that the General would ask him for a word instead of requesting him in his office."What can I do for you General?"

"This must be kept to the highest confidentiality," he said in a low voice, shutting the door.

"Sir?"

"Nathaniel, you must give me your word that what is said will not leave this room," Washington pleaded.

Mr. Sackett knew the importance after hearing his Christian name, "I understand, sir."

The General took a breath, steadying himself. He knew he could trust Mr. Sackett, but months of guarding the secret made him anxious.

"I need your help, to find someone."

"Who?" he asked, already knowing what he would be tasked to do.

"My daughter," he said slowly. "Over eight months ago she ran away to join the army. I cannot find her, not without drawing attention to her disappearance. If word were to reach the British that she's disguised as a soldier..."

"If captured, she would be considered a prisoner of war," Mr. Sackett finished.

"I cannot allow that to happen. I'm asking you as a father, please find her."

Mr. Sakcett never thought that George Washington would beg him to find his daughter... Neither did he think he'd already been helping her hide her identity from the world.

"I will do my best, sir. I'll need some information to know what to look for.."

Washington gave a rare, grateful smile, "Thank you, Nathaniel."

At his workstation, Hamilton repressed another cough. He couldn't let the rest of the staff know that he was still recovering from a bout of illness. They'd force him to rest again, something he could not do.

He sighed as he read another impatient congressman's letter about the lack of offensive action. He was tired of having to explain the Fabian System of warfare, yet pulled out parchment and began his reply.

"We should on all Occasions avoid a general Action, or put anything to the Risk, unless compelled by a necessity into which we ought never to be drawn."

He dropped his quill on his workstation and massaged his temples to relieve the ever-present headache. He hadn't even been an aide for two months and was already questioning how much longer he could put up this.

But he knew he was needed here, for both Gwen and the war.

He laughed at the letter he received from the New York Committee of Correspondence shortly after he fell ill.

"The scantiness of our Numbers will not permit the Loss of one useful citizen. It is therefore a determined Point that, sick or well, you are by no means to die."

He could only imagine how Gwen would react when she found out. Probably smacking him before fussing over his health. It was hard to believe that they first met almost two years ago and were now fighting in a war together.

He didn't know how she'd managed to avoid complete discovery. So far only four people knew her secret and the intervals between each discovery got longer. Perhaps she could get through this war, every day she became more comfortable with the character of William Pickler.

Hamilton had long given up on answering nagging congressmen. No longer focused on his work, he noticed the growing stuffiness of the room.

Stepping out of the room to get a breath of fresh air he nearly ran into Mr. Sackett.

"My apologies, Mr. Sackett. I didn't see you."

"It's quite alright Colonel, I was hoping to speak to you sooner or later."

His interest had now peaked, "What can I do for you?"

The spymaster glanced down the hallway. "There's something you should know," he said before pulling the other back into the room.

Morristown, April 15.

The long journey from the Connecticut coast was finally over. Their route had taken several detours due to Arnold's skirmishes with the British... and an incident caused by Caleb that they would rather forget for the moment

Poor Tallmadge had to explain their detour to Setauket to the General. And although Washington was irked that they failed to rendezvous with Arnold, the success of the Brigadier General was enough to curb his annoyance.

Of course, they both were chewed out by Mr. Sackett for not only abandoning the objective of their mission but for putting the ring at risk. Thankfully Caleb, who managed to avoid the brunt of Sackett's anger, stepped in to explain that the greatest risk to Culper was out of the picture.

When they were finally dismissed, Sackett quickly motioned for Will to stay.

"There have been recent developments while you were away," he whispered.

"What kind of developments?"

"Pickler!" Caleb shouted, "You comin'?"

"Don't worry about it right now, go with them. Come around later and I'll explain everything," the old spymaster said, patting Will on the shoulder.

He gave a thankful nod and quickly joined the other two.

"What did he want?" Caleb asked.

"Caleb, enough," Ben sighed.

"It's alright. He just wants to see me later, probably to drill tradecraft or german," Will explained.

Caleb looked at the youngest in shock, "You just got back and he's putting you to work!"

Will only shrugged. "Let Sackett be Sackett. He hasn't had anyone to order around for two weeks."

The cheeky remark caused all three to laugh, a moment where they could relax after the stressful journey.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to pay Hamilton a visit," Will said.

"Go ahead, we'll see you later," Ben replied.

As they watched the Captain walk away, Caleb subtly elbowed Ben in the ribs.

"You're better at this than I thought," he smiled.

"Hard at work?"

Hamilton smiled at the familiar voice and turned to face his friend.

"Back in one piece I see," he greeted.

"See I told you, nothing to worry about," Gwen smirked, glad to drop the act.

Alex quickly hugged her, "As long as you took precautions to be able to say 'I told you so', then it was worth it."

"Who said I took precautions?"

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his work

"But I mean, look at you," she said. "I'm gone for what? Two weeks? And you manage to get yourself sick."

"Were you worried?"

"I mean... I only just found out now and you're better-ish now," she trailed off as he suppressed a few more coughs. "Seriously Alexander, you're going to get worse if you keep this up."

"So you are worried."

"So what did you do while you were sick?"

"You know me, trying to work while everyone is pushing me back down. I did stop after I received a letter reminding me of my importance."

"You what?" she laughed

"Here," he said, handing the letter over.

"From the New York Committee," she said, opening the letter. "The scantiness of our Numbers will not permit the Loss of one useful citizen. It is therefore a determined Point that, sick or well, you are by no means to die."

She chuckled, "Even the committee was telling you to stop... wait how sick were you!"

"I thought you knew," he said sheepishly.

"I was told you were sick, not at death's door," she explained, flicking the letter.

"Well, I- I should have known they didn't tell you all the details."

"You could have died, and I would be in some part of Connecticut!"

"Don't blame yourself. Though I'm glad that you were away and not here. You would be in a worse state."

"True, but you and Sackett are all I've got. And you're the only one who knows me."

"I'm touched," he grinned. "But Burr also knows you."

"Yes, but he's not in this camp."

"Actually he arrived a week ago."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'll have to say hello."

"And leave me alone?" Alex said dramatically.

"Don't be pretentious," Gwen shot back.

"I'm not pretentious."

"Then don't act like it."

They stared at each other before bursting into laughter.

"I missed bantering with you. No one else seems to match our skill level," he admitted.

"It's because we do it so frequently," she teased. "But it does have its advantages... our game of ripostes."

"Is that what it is now?"

"Do you have a better name?" she challenged

"I didn't even know we were naming it."

"Then we're calling it a game of ripostes."

"Of course we are."

She lightly smacked his arm

Alex quickly cried out, "Hey, don't attack the sick man."

She rolled her eyes and dropped the letter was still holding back on the desk.

The two fell into silence. The light-hearted tone couldn't distract them from the earlier heavy discussion for long.

Gwen took a breath, hesitating whether or not to say what was on her mind. "I want you to know that I do care about you, I've seen you as an older... overprotective brother for the longest time."

A soft smile grew on Hamilton's face, "As are you. You're practically my sister and I'll be fighting your corner for a long time to come."

She gave a grateful smile. There was no doubt that Alex would always be at her side, and her talks with Ben and Caleb gave the same impression. For the first time since she joined the army, she finally had a family.

A.N.

Really cringe ending but it is what it is.

Yes, the hurt comfort is finally here! Listen, no human, a child no less, goes through a war and comes out just fine! I wish TURN addressed this more. All we got were little glimpses whenever someone close to Ben died or when Caleb was tortured and THAT'S IT! And they barely cope with it naturally, I feel like this is going to be a bit of a fix-it fic. Because THEY NEED TO BE MORE HUMAN. Not "oh, this is sad." *Angry Ben Tallmadge* "Anyway, moving on."

A lot of the flashback scenes were actually in the previous chapter, but I decided to make it more focused on Will/Gwen's mental state instead of flipping POVs and making it confusing. It also helped bridge the two chapters.

Historically, Hamilton recovered from illness in early March. But for the sake of convenience and not having to rewrite chapter 8 I made him fall ill after Tallmadge and crew leave camp.

For Martha, she was described as having a lively personality. And the way she was depicted in the show, chef's kiss! "No George, you want to be liked." So I totally see some banter and retorts that she does out of love. I mean... let be honest, do you honestly believe Gwen got that sarcasm and witty attitude from her father? So Gwen is like her mom in that way, just dial it up to 11 with a poorly trained impulse control.

If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote and comment. It means a lot to see people enjoying my story and helps it get it out there to other potential readers.

Till next time

-Ollie