Chapter 5: Home

September 14, 1780

If someone were to ask Genevieve what she remembered after that day, she'd say that there was pain, definitely, and a lot of noise. A lot of bustling around her as her temperature spiked in a deadly fever. She'd say she remembered throwing up more than once and starving because she couldn't keep anything down. She'd say she remembered her muscles were alight with pain as they tried to rebuild the fibres. She could still remember the smell of infection as the doctor pressed the heated blade against her skin again in hopes that it'd fight the infection - burn it away, he said.

She'd say she remembered screaming again but it wasn't as powerful as before - her vocal chords were still healing too. But then there was a louder scream that overtook hers, the chunk as a blade sheathed into flesh but she didn't know who it was.

She'd say she remembered the feeling of the fire that burned every single muscle in its path, every nerve and vessel that was cauterized shut to prevent her from dying - even though the thought of death was more comforting than the smell of burnt flesh.

She'd say that she had fever dreams - that she remembered the scent of Merlot and the feel of soft lips on hers; dreams of returning to her family.

And that she knew that her high, hot fevers persisted throughout the three days of her semi-consciousness; that the doctor considered putting her out of her misery but Alexander fought for her.

When she finally regained full consciousness that wasn't in a mad haze, it was in the dark of the night and her body jostled gently as the horse's rhythmic clock of hooves paved against the dirt. Although she was awake, she couldn't move and when she tried, her stomach rebelled out of thirst and hunger while her arm blazed in pain from its confines in the cleanest cloth she believed they could find.

She smelt foul and she glanced around her, noting the other injured soldiers. When she saw Lafayette slumbering on the other side of the wagon, she felt her heart stop and constrict. How badly she wanted to reach him, hear his voice, could not be put into words. Her eyes closed again and in her mind, she heard a loud scream again, one that rattled her bones as the blade cut again. But she couldn't quite place what it was and, energy spent, she went out like a light.

September 20, 1780

She could move now - her fever was going down. Alexander barely visited now that she was out of the woods but she remembered distinctly in her crucial stages that he was there. The infection still smelt like shit though. The doctor had just looked at her wound and tried to wash out any infection with alcohol - her pain tolerance was really building - when he had deemed that it was okay for a short walk in camp.

One morning, she woke up and decided to stretch her muscles so she moved around the camp, spotting many men with abdominal injuries from gunshots. In retrospect, she may have been the lucky ones. Sighing, she used her uninjured arm and rubbed at her eyes. "Smith!" She looked up at her 'name', and spotted a soldier smiling at her.

"Yes?"

"The General wants to see you." Nodding, she entered the grandest tent and saw that he was working in his books. Running a hand over the cloth that bandaged her right arm, she looked at the General. His dark gaze lightened when he saw her.

"Ah, Oliver Smith. Just the man I wanted to see,"

"Sir, did I do something wrong?"

"No, in fact. I've summoned you here to formerly thank you. Your warning saved many men that would have died." Nodding, she was unsure of what to say. "You're a good man, Smith. And you've certainly caught my eye. Lafayette was able to make use of the warning - the idiot boy got shot in the process though." Washington meant it as a tease but Genevieve felt her heart constrict at the fact. She tried not to let it show on her face but the General seemed to notice and offered a sympathetic close-lipped smile. "He's fine now. Anyway, continue performing with the outstanding reputation you have now and perhaps we will finally get paid by the Congress." The last sentence was said in a joke but she noted the bitter tone.

"Thank you, sir." She bowed and left the tent only to bump into another injured man. Pain flared in her muscles, seeping into her bone and she barely kept in a groan. He clutched his leg and grunted, glaring at whoever bumped into him. "I'm sorry," she immediately said in surprise and looked up into the man's face. "Lieutenant Lafayette! A thousand apologies,"

"No, I am sorry." He looked at her arm and he realized who she was. "You're Smith, oui?" He muttered. "I hope you're better - everyone heard of your tremendous bravery. Saved many men and allowed me to make a rally point." He smiled but she focused on the way he clutched his leg - the one a bullet had been fired upon.

"Are you hurt?" She asked anyway, for a moment forgetting who she was. This was the man she wanted and she couldn't even let him know.

"Knocked from my horse only to be shot. I'm fine, mon ami." He waved it off as it was nothing and flashed her a final smile before entering the tent. That was when she realized that it was him the screams belonged to as a knife dug the bullet out of his leg. Closing her eyes and swallowing painfully, she continued on her way, the images of Lafayette writhing on a cot in pain as sweat covered his brow in a sheen and the vision of a knife buried in his leg not quite leaving her mind.

September 30, 1780

To a Oliver Smith,

It is with great pleasure and elation do I invite you to my wedding on the 14th of December. As you know, your fellow soldier, Alexander Hamilton, and I have been courting for nearly a year and he has proposed to me. I obviously accepted.

I wouldn't be surprised if he had already told you as he had said he's been by your side for many years. He had neglected to tell you where you've been as he normally does so I have taken the liberty to writing to you myself.

How are you? Are you well? I do hope so much that you are and that you'll be able to attend our wedding. Many of Alex's friends will be invited including… a certain someone. Genevieve knew who her friend was talking about. Funny, Eliza, she thought as she continued to read.

Anyway, not much has changed here. Your father was elated to know that I've heard from you but he is still keeping it from your brother and sister - why? I do not know. But they are invited too, so maybe then you will see them.

The wedding will be held at the Schuyler Mansion. I look forward to seeing you again in three months time. I love you so very much and miss you.

Yours,

Eliza

She re-read the letter before folding it and settling it beside her cot near her other things. Extinguishing the candle, she was about to bundle herself up in the blankets when she heard the tent flap open. Sitting up immediately, she glared at the shape known as Alexander.

"Why do I have to find out you're getting married from the woman herself?" She demanded exasperatedly and he jumped at least ten feet into the air in surprise. He smiled sheepishly, knowing he was in deep trouble. "Am I not your friend?" She added in a loud voice. "Alexander Hamilton, for shame!"

December 3, 1780

They reached Albany quickly. They had managed to snag a few more horses along the way so as they camped just outside of Albany due to nightfall, she bit her lip nervously. Her arm had long since healed and she ran a hand over the waxy scar. It was about three centimetres at its widest and spanned from her wrist and jaggedly made its way to her elbow.

She could still remember the aching, burning pain. She didn't think she'd ever forget it.

"Sir, why couldn't we march the last few miles?" She asked, not confrontationally. George shook his head although he smiled at her eagerness.

"One more night, Smith." He consoled and she dug her boot into the dirt. The thin layer of frost dispersed under her actions. "How long since you've seen your family, soldier?"

"Four years, sir." She answered, keeping her eyes on the dirt floor. Washington was silent for a moment but when he spoke, she could hear the warmth in his voice.

"If you need to, really, see your family, I permit you use of one of our horses."

"Thank you, sir," she grinned excitedly and he laughed heartily.

"Prepare a horse for Smith!" He turned around to order one of the squires who nodded. Within moments, she was mounted on a chestnut steed with a pack behind the saddle of some of her items and she glanced at Washington. "I'll see you at the wedding, soldier."

"Your Excellency," she tipped her hat towards him as another plod of hooves made them both look back. Lafayette atop a dun. The horse nickered at hers and they nudged noses. He pulled up beside the soldier and his leader with a smile. "Lafayette," she greeted. He smiled at her and she felt her heart skip a beat.

"I am seeing more and more of you every day, Oliver.* Are you heading down to Albany as well?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Why are you?"

"He wants to see the woman who has ensnared his heart." George inputted with a mischievous glance at the marquis. He blushed but did not deny it. "Stay safe, men. I want you in top shape because after the wedding-"

"It's back to business," they finished his sentence. "We know," Genevieve added as she gently tugged against the reins. "Goodbye, General." He waved them away and with a snap of the reins, she set her horse at a trot. Lafayette shared a few private words before catching up with her. They had a journey ahead of them.

"Did your arm heal well?" He asked out of politeness and she flexed and stretched her arm. Showing him the scar, he chuckled. His hand traced the pink skin and although it was a distant sensation, she still relished the feeling of his delicate fingers skimming across her arm. He pulled back and she flushed deeply, hoping the night and the shadow of her hat would cover her cheeks. "Many ladies will go crazy over that scar." She rolled her sleeve back down, feeling tingles prick at her scar but she tried to ignore it. There was a silence before he piped up again. "Why are you heading back to Albany?" Lafayette inquired and she threw a lazy look at him. "Is it too much to ask?" He asked teasingly.

"No. I'm just seeing my family. They have not seen me for more than four years." She told him and he made a sound of sympathy. "And I have someone waiting for me, I hope." The brunette added wearily. He seemed to not pay attention to the glance she shot him as he trained his eyes on the starlit sky.

"As do I. I have not seen her since the Winter's Ball but I have thought of her every day since." She swallowed thickly, this time, tracing the arch of his nose and his eyes.

"I'm sure she thought of you too," she whispered and he glanced at her.

"You are too kind." She nodded numbly. He snapped the reigns of his horse and guided his horse into a gallop. Gently nudging her horse's sides, she speeded after him and saw as he inhaled a lungful of cold wind. "You know," he said breathlessly, "this winter wind, it reminds me of her."

"How so?" She asked, genuinely confused. He chuckled freely as they rode down the hill.

"She is a free spirit. Talked about fighting this war." Nodding along, she looked at the white moon. It was in the middle of the sky, full and round and glowing luminously. "And your lover? What is she like?"

"She," she paused at the weird pronoun. How weird to call Lafayette, the debonair Frenchman, a 'she', "is very brave. Kind, charming. But we have not known each other for very long," she was careful on what to reveal. "I do not know where she is now as she can't write letters to me."

"That is unfortunate, mon ami. Perhaps she'll be in Albany if luck is on your side."

"Perhaps," she agreed as Lafayette looked at the scenery. His eyes were wide, reflecting the stars, lips slightly parted in wonder. He was beautiful and she would've kissed him if she could then.

.

"Where are you going?" Lafayette asked as they finally reached Albany. It was around two in the morning when they arrived and she sent the Frenchman a glance.

"Just to the tavern." The answer was vague - there were many in Albany and he nodded. "And you?"

"To visit an old friend - Hercules Mulligan before seeing the woman I love - that is, if she is here." He added and she nodded. They had dismounted their horses to give them a rest and he offered a hand to shake. Genevieve took it firmly and shook it before putting her hat back on, tucking the brown hair underneath. "Au revoir, mon ami."

"See you soon, Lafayette." She agreed and mounted her horse again, fitting her feet through the stirrups and nudging the chestnut gently. The horse nickered and snorted softly and she patted the space between his ears. "I know, sweet, you're tired." She murmured, "I am, too." Going up the road past the post office, she felt a pang of nostalgia. She spent her childhood here, this is the place she remembered her mother. Just seeing the empty stores brought tears to her ears and her horse whinnied at the quietness.

Once they reached the tavern, she glanced at the building beside it. Her home. This was her home. A home she had left without looking back. Swallowing a knot in her throat, she dismounted and led her horse down an alley so no one would see him. "Stay." She whispered quietly, pressing a kiss to his velvety nose. Hopefully, he'd listen. The chestnut nudged her shoulder tiredly as she unloaded the pack from her steed's back. In the front pocket was the key to the house. Taking it in her fingers, she inhaled nervously.

Coming around to her home, she looked at the familiar mat in the front. The texture was rough and it was getting dirty. She'd always take it out to beat the dust off...

Taking several deep breaths, she inserted the key and twisted it. The door unlocked with a familiar click. "Hello?" she whispered as soon as she went in. The entrance hall was obviously dark and she explored the kitchen and living rooms. Everything was the same. There was a book bag that used to be hers full of maths work and books from the library and one that used to be Bennett's.

Feeling apprehension rise up in her, she climbed the stairs as quietly as she could. Her room's door was open, moonlight streaming into the hallway through the window near her bed. Her boots scuffed against the wood and it squeaked when she stepped on a wood panel. Wincing, she heard someone shuffle somewhere on the floor.

"Papa?" A young, but mature voice asked sleepily and she looked behind her over her right shoulder to see a oval-faced blonde, her green eyes blurry with sleep. Once she realized that it wasn't her father, the fourteen-year old's face scrunched up into something defensive. "Who are you?" She demanded and Genevieve smiled proudly at her sister's tone. It was commanding and defensive. Straightening the lapels of her Continental Army jacket, she straightened up. "Explain yourself or I will scream."

"Ettie-" she was about to explain when another two doors opened.

"Ettie, who on Earth are you talking to?" Bennett asked crossly, poking his head from his room but froze when he saw the stranger. "Get away from her!"

"Bennett!" William Alcott scolded, appearing from his room, holding a lamp as he crossed the hallway to put an arm protectively around his son. "Ettie, come here." The blonde slipped past the soldier and hugged the man's waist tightly. "Now, who are you? Who are you to come into my home?"

"Papa," Ettie whispered, scared. Bennett puffed out his chest, pushing his sister behind him and his father.

"I know how to fight! If you want to hurt her, you have to get through me." Overwhelmed, Genevieve didn't know what to say. Her little siblings were so grown up. They aged without her. Swallowing thickly, she let a watery smile cross her face.

"No need to fight," William murmured, voice hoarse. "Look at the jacket."

"The Continental Army," Ettie piped up and William raised the lamp above to try and squint at them. Genevieve nodded and backed towards the stairs. "Again, what are you doing in our home?" William, now quiet, let out a choked sound. When she met his eyes, she saw the understanding in his eyes. He knew. "Papa, are you alright?"

"Let us go to the kitchen." He suggested and she nodded, allowing them to watch her like hawks as she went down the stairs first. Finding matches, she lit many lamps, and slowly, her features were revealed. The navy blue of her tailcoat, the boots, the hat. The very picture of a Continental Army soldier.

Bennett was straight behind her and held the lamp for their father, settling it down on the kitchen table. "Now, explain yourself." She bowed her head, inhaling the familiar scent of home and took off her hat. Brown hair still tied up in its ponytail fell and she turned around.

"I know," she began in her normal, unused voice, "that I don't deserve your forgiveness for what I've done. For leaving you the way I did." Tears stung at her eyes and she watched as understanding and tears flood their faces as well. William sniffed loudly and she pulled at the frill of the sleeve that poked out from her jacket. "But it was my dream and I have learned so much more out there than I did here. I did this for you."

"Oh," William wiped at his eyes, nearly collapsing as Bennett hugged Ettie tightly.

"And I have met George Washington and Lafayette and so many more who are trying to shape this nation into one you can be proud of. If you do not forgive me, at least take the country we are fighting for. We will - I will make this right for you." She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes and winced when she felt the scar stretch on her arm. Crying blatantly, she felt strong, thin arms wrap around her and laid her hands on Ettie's tiny shoulders.

"I missed you so much," Ettie cried and buried her face into her pants. Bennett followed after and her father wrapped them all in a hug. "Genny,"

"I've missed you every single day, sweetheart." William whispered in her ear, taking her by the arm and just staring into the worn face of his eldest daughter - the one who looked most like his wife. "Oh, thank God."

"I'm sorry," she whispered as if a mantra. "I'm sorry. I love you so much," she sighed into her father's shoulder, "and I've missed you every single day. I - I love you." She repeated and they just cried for who knows how long. Just indulged in the presence she had missed so much as Ettie broke away first, looking up at her older sister with new respect. Stroking her sister's cheek, she realized that Ettie was quite the pretty lady. Looking at her brother, she ruffled his hair and he pulled back to beam and her. Smiling tiredly, she brought them closer for a tight embrace again. "But I have to leave after Eliza's wedding. I'm not finished until the war ends. I'm sorry."

"Will you settle down with us in Albany then?" Ettie asked and Genevieve bit her lip. That depended on if she survived.

"Maybe, sweetling. Maybe," she murmured. "Don't tell anyone I'm in the army, alright?" Her eyes raised to look at her father, "Father,"

"I know." He hugged her tightly again as there was a loud neigh. They broke apart immediately and Genevieve's eyes widened. "Your horse?" She shushed them quietly and waited as there was a soft thump.

"She won't be here, Laf," someone said quietly and she realized it was Hercules. She hadn't heard the deep voice in so long. "There hasn't been a word since the Winter's Ball-"

"Then where else could she be, mon ami?" Although normally a friendly title, the Frenchman spat it at his friend.

"The French soldier," her father murmured and he made the connection between his daughter and him. "He doesn't know, I suppose. He's been looking for you - before he went off to war."

"I know." she whispered, voice breaking, "I must hide." She broke away from them jerkily, running up the stairs as her siblings ran after her. "Go back to sleep - he mustn't know anything is amiss." She crouched down and hugged her sister one last time before gently urging her towards her room.

"I love you, Genny," Ettie whispered and she hesitated closing the door. "I don't want this to have all been a dream," Bennett paused from further up the hall with a slight frown. Down the stairs, the door shook from the knocks as their father went to answer. He sent a wary glance up the staircase.

"Ettie, don't be stupid. She'll be here when you wake up." Bennett assured but he sent his older sister an unsure glance as well. Genevieve smiled convincingly and nodded. The brunette straightened as Bennett continued, "And even if it was a dream, it'd be a pretty good one."

"Yeah, I guess so." Ettie murmured, hugging her sister one last time. "Can I at least stay with you tonight?"

"Of course." Bennett whispered as William opened the door. "Come here," he added and the blonde scampered towards her brother.

"Monsieur Alcott, I'm sorry for intruding at this hour…" Genevieve snuck closer to Bennett who gazed at her.

"Who is that man?"

"Lafayette," her voice was low and Bennett leaned closer, clutching onto her tail coat as she slipped into his room. Her siblings followed after her and she let the door almost click shut. Only the sounds of their breathing filled the silence as they eavesdropped on the conversation.

"She isn't here, sir. She hasn't been here for years." Her father lied, "I told you before you went off to war - she disappeared and we haven't-"

"Please, sir." Lafayette begged and her heart throbbed under her chest. How badly she wanted to run down the stairs and hug him and never let go… to kiss away any tears and heal his wounds. She couldn't, she knew that, but that didn't stop the thoughts. Ettie murmured something sympathetic and she glanced at her younger sister.

"That poor man," she seemed to say.

"There's nothing I can do." The older sister whispered back as Hercules piped up.

"I told you, Laf," the man said although his voice wasn't unkind. "Man, I'm sorry." There was a moment of silence where Genevieve thought that he was gone but it turned out it was just William hugging Lafayette tightly.

"I miss her too, son." He murmured. Genevieve closed the door, unable to listen anymore. Her siblings on either side of her, the brunette pulled them into side hugs. Looking up at the ceiling, she sighed. Bennett, who was nearly her height now, rested his head on her shoulder and Ettie tucked into her side. The three of them stood quietly behind the door for a long time. There was much to do.

A/N: Woo! Eliza's wedding should be chapter 7. Next chapter is a lot of fluff so just be prepared because they're gonna start bonding a lot mostly because I want them to have some quality time before the war hits them again. Thank you: ThatRavenclawWitch for following, and RiseUpWiseUp and BriCat03 for reviewing! You guys mean the world to me when you take time to do this kinda stuff!

REVIEWS:

RiseUpWiseUp: I NEVER THOUGHT OF CUTTING HER ARM OFF. JEEZ, I HAVE A HEART. Do not die though for I have updated!

BriCat03: I can't reveal the future ;) but don't worry, our couple's gonna have some happy time before they go off to war again. Promise. Thank you for reviewing!

* "I am seeing more and more of you every day, Oliver." Due to the multiple time skips, this sentence cements that Lafayette and 'Oliver' are past accomplices and more friends.