First off- I am SO sorry this has taken so long to update! I've had finals these last few weeks and preparing for them has consumed my time. Also to be honest I've lost interest, not in the story, but in my writing. Just hit a wall and trying to get over it is a bit frustrating. This story won't be abandoned, just might have its moments. If anyone is interested in Beta-ing, and tossing ideas back and forth message me with your contacts/interest. Thank you for your continued reviews. An update might make your day, but reviews and messages make mine. :]
Forty-seven days. It had felt like years. The trip across the Atlantic had left a slightly seasick Washington below decks while Alfred fretted about and tried to think of what he'd say when they arrived at their destination. William had taken to trying to teach Alfred a thing or two about medicine, but from the dazed looks and distracted sighs the doctor had eventually given up and merely offered his books to the young man.
Alfred was currently above deck, and keeping an eye on the land they were slowly approaching. The captain watched him from the helm, "Oi boy."
He turned and looked at the captain who had said to call him 'Cap'n or something'. Since then Alfred had been trying out different names to see if any of them felt right. The blunt man found the name game amusing at least, and tolerated it.
"What is it," a pause, "Phillip?" Apparently still not the right name since the captain just grunted and then replied. "Get below deck, we're gettin' close."
The wind had been strong throughout the entire journey across the Atlantic, but it seemed to finally be slowing just when they had reached the final stretch of the trip. He gave the land one last lingering look and then hurried to the latch and all but jumped down the steep stairs into the hold below.
As soon as his feet hit the swaying deck again he could tell he was about to interrupt something. Apparently George and William were bickering again, probably about the General's health if it was like any of the arguments from before.
"This wouldn't be a problem if you'd just let me-" William began to say under his breath with a frustrated sigh following. Washington meanwhile was fidgeting and trying to get out of the doctor's reach, "Doctor, my ribs are just fine. I'm not made of glass."
That earned him a glare from William who now had his hands on his hips, glasses slightly askew on his nose. "No you are made of ligaments and all sorts of things – Sit down." The tone of voice apparently got through to George who with a grumble sat down on a cot.
Alfred shuffled over, smiling as he watched William gently poke and prod at George's side. Neither had yet to greet him so Alfred went ahead and broke the silence, "We'll be there soon."
Washington nodded his head as William shrugged his shoulders, "Glorious. I so love the stench of the cities." Sarcasm coated his words and Alfred's eyebrows rose up in surprise. He leaned back against a post, which took a considerable amount of balance considering the constant movement of the ship.
"Is it really that bad?" Alfred asked curiously. For a moment William looked over his shoulder at him. With a roll of his eyes he returned to his medical examination of the General's ribs, keeping an eye on his face should it tell more than he'd be willing to say out loud.
Satisfied with the results William straightened up and cracked his back, "It isn't so bad I suppose. I'll take the sea over crowded streets any day." He noticed how Alfred seemed let down by his less than enthusiastic opinion of the city. William hastily added, "But there are some amazing buildings, and architecture." If you liked that sort of thing. William kept that thought to himself.
His quick fix seemed to encourage Alfred who was smiling again, "I hope so. I'm really nervous actually." The grin seemed to falter and show the boys nerves. George got up from the cot and made his way over to Alfred on still shaky legs. He clapped a hand on Alfred's shoulder and looked him in the eye.
"Don't be. You're America; you represent our thirteen United States. The delegates have faith in you, and from my understanding we have a rebellion in the works that would put to shame our prior one." George could still see the doubt on the nation's face, "If all else fails recall how you felt during the war, when freedom was in your grasp." That seemed to do the trick.
Alfred's gaze refocused and he nodded his head. "I won't let anyone else hang." His voice and stature became more determined, but the serious expression slipped for a moment as he smiled gratefully at Washington.
"Well then if that's all settled I'll be going above and keeping an eye on things while you two stay here." William gathered his bag and climbed to the upper deck, leaving Alfred and George alone. The two exchanged looks and then settled down. It was going to take some time before they could slip off the ship onto the mainland.
A few minutes of silence passed before Alfred spoke, "Want to guess what I'm thinking of?"
George groaned, "Suppose I don't have a choice." He teased, and then began making guesses.
The guessing game had long ago lost any appeal to the two and Alfred had ended up falling asleep half sitting up while George read through one of the books William had left. It wasn't the easiest of things to do considering the dim lighting, but it was better than nothing.
As though his thoughts had been heard a sailor leaned down and 'pst'd' at him. George reached over and shook Alfred as he got to his feet and walked over to the open hatch.
"Com'on then mates." The sailor said to them before pulling back so they could climb out. When they both were standing on the deck the captain walked over and handed Alfred his rucksack and one to George as well.
George and Alfred exchanged glances and then George stepped forward to shake the captain's hand. "Thank you for taking us along." The two shook hands and the captain smirked at George, "Hrm next time maybe you'll get your sea legs." The General smiled good-naturedly and then walked over toward the plank that connected to the dock.
This left the captain and Alfred looking at one another. When the silence had dragged on longer than necessary the captain spoke up, "What? No more guesses?" He almost looked disappointed.
The smile on Alfred's face turned into a full grin. He patted the captain on the shoulder before following after George. "Naw, I always knew your name was Jean." Alfred nudged George and the two departed from the ship, and while he didn't need to look back to confirm – Alfred did anyway, just so he could see the look of surprise on the captain's face.
Jean had hidden his French accent well enough, but Alfred knew his people. Some better than others. Jean was one of Hancock's most trusted captains, and Alfred could feel the dedication and honesty a mile away from the seafaring captain.
He frowned a little. It wasn't fair that the captain wouldn't be able to enjoy his homeland, but he didn't seem to mind docking and setting off into the sea once more. Maybe the sea was more his home than any land ever could be.
"You seem to be deep in thought." George's voice was strong as it had been before his capture. Alfred smiled at him lopsided and shrugged his shoulders. "I was just thinking is all."
The simple comment resulted in his General arching one brow, "Perish the thought." The nation snorted and rolled his eyes, but the amused look again shifted into the serious expression from before. George picked up on the change in his mood and placed one hand on his shoulder, "It will be alright lad. Franklin will be able to help."
The two seemed to be drawing attention from the late afternoon crowds as they walked through the streets. "I hope so." Alfred seemed oblivious of the stares, while George was all too aware of the looks as they passed into the well-kept streets of France's more elite citizens.
Compared to the locals they looked like country bumpkins. From the rough cut of their clothing to their natural hair, sans wig or powder; both George and Alfred couldn't have stuck out more if they tried.
Had Alfred not had so much to think, or so much to worry about he'd have been eager to take in everything around him. As is he couldn't help but dread the next steps that had to be taken. It was only a matter of time before Arthur figured out where he had gone, and if this didn't work he was unsure of what next he would do.
He sighed and then pasted on a bright smile. There was hope on the horizon though, and he wasn't going to give up. George wasn't about to do so, and he'd been locked up in…Alfred's thoughts trailed off as he looked over to the tall man who was gathering the attentions of women passing by. A small snicker escaped and George merely looked at him with a slight quirk of his own lips.
Alfred almost felt bad for the high class Frenchwomen. They had no idea of knowing that this General was accounted for. Guilt wormed its way into his thoughts as he thought about Martha. Things had gotten so hectic and he hadn't even considered sending a letter to the Commander-In-Chief's beloved wife. Though according to the delegates she had been in hiding for some time, and terribly distressed over George's incarceration.
"Maybe we can get a letter back through the captain, to…To her you know?" Alfred offered the suggestion in a soft voice, as though afraid to broach the topic.
George smiled warmly, "I've already asked him to kindly pass along some words on my behalf."
Alfred laughed easily and elbowed the general, who gasped softly in reply. "Oh criminy! I keep forgetting. You just walk so straight and shoulders back and you really wouldn't think looking at you that you'd had a broken rib and are you going to be okay? Did I puncture something?" He instantly began rambling, while worriedly standing in front of George, afraid to touch him again lest he re-break a bone or worse.
After a few more shallow breaths George waved the young man off, "I am alright, just tender." George glanced over to a group of women gathered who were watching the two with bemused expressions. In a whisper he leaned over towards Alfred, "We're close to Benjamin's?"
All the young nation managed was a somber nod as he led the way. It was hard to remember that George was hurt. He seemed untouchable, strong, and carried himself so well. Alfred didn't dwell in the thoughts for too long, and instead took pride in the strength of his General.
Said General swatted him over the head lightly, "You're meandering." The amused reminder got Alfred walking straight towards their destination again.
It was strange. Alfred had never been here, to this country, to this street. Yet it felt natural to seek out Benjamin. The note he'd received from his emissary to France all those years ago was folded neatly in the rucksack, but he didn't even need to glance at it to know where he was headed.
A constant tug pulled him along, and eventually stopped when he was in front of a quaint looking home. Alfred approached the door, with George trailing slightly behind him. This was it.
With one last glance back at George, Alfred raised his hand and knocked on the door. There was a muffled shout from inside the room, along with what sounded like items being shuffled around and then approaching footsteps.
It was nice to know some things never changed.
The lock on the other side clicked over and then the door swung open. "Yes?"
Alfred smiled at the bespectacled older man, "Hi Ben."
His jaw dropped, eyes going wide as he frantically looked between the nation he hadn't seen in years and the Commander-In-Chief he hadn't ever thought to see alive again. "Oh-Oh my." Alfred stepped in and gently gripped his shoulder and elbow, offering support as he grinned cheekily.
"Surprise!"
George couldn't help but frown a little, or try to through his smile at seeing the familiar face. "We would have given you warning if it was safe to do so."
The older delegate nodded at each of them in shock, and then waved George in, "This most certainly is a surprise. I, well I'm overwhelmed and speechless." Alfred and Ben moved back further into the cozy home while George stepped in and closed the door behind him.
"Good overwhelmed and speechless though right?" Alfred sounded hopeful as he looked at Benjamin, fingers tightening and loosening as he confirmed that it indeed was his Franklin.
Franklin laughed in the carefree manner that only seemed to be acquired with age, "Of course Alfred!" He shook his head in disbelief, "Come, come, I was just working on some – Well that's hardly important now is it? My country and Commander-In-Chief are here!"
He parted from Alfred and walked further into the somewhat small home, cramped mostly by the various papers and odd looking things lying about. George sat down in one of the empty chairs at the inventor's dining table while Alfred helped Ben set out open faced sandwiches and what looked like coffee. It smelled like it at least.
Once they were all settled around the table, Benjamin looked at the two across from him, scrutinizing them as though to be certain they were who he thought them to be.
"My old age isn't getting to me? At least I hope I'm not imagining this, it'd be a terrible thing to dream this and then wake up to discover it fanciful thoughts."
Alfred rolled his eyes, "You're not old Ben." Franklin shrugged his shoulders, "Well then would you please tell that to my aching joints? Though I suppose that's proof enough you're truly the Alfred I recall." He turned his gaze to George then, who was still pale from too little sunlight.
Benjamin reached across the table, offering a hand, and George met him half way. Alfred watched as the two shook hands, more than words passing between them in the simple gesture of friendship. Their hands parted and Benjamin was looking at Alfred with that familiar twinkle in his eye.
"My mind is hopping with ideas as to why you two are here, most of which are giving me hope. This has something to do with the Revolution?"
They exchanged glances and then nodded.
"Well then do tell me everything." Benjamin leaned forward with his hands folded atop the table, looking like an eager child about to be told a secret. Alfred dragged his chair closer to the table, eyes bright with excitement.
Alfred explained to Benjamin in great length to what their plans were, and the inventor's crucial role in them achieving their goal. He glossed over the deaths of the four delegates. The memory of their hanging was still painfully fresh, but Ben's firm reassurances encouraged him to continue and it wasn't long before George began adding to the conversation as well.
When all was said and done, Alfred was leaning with one elbow on the table and the side of his head cradled in the palm of his hand. George was sitting straight as ever and discussing the next steps in their plans with an animated Ben. Seriously, where did they get this energy?
Ben stood up from his chair and glanced out the window. The sun was setting and darkening the streets. "I will do my best." He turned around and looked at Alfred, who sat up straight in response. "Though, Alfred I have a question, and then you can go catch up on what I'm sure is much needed sleep."
Eyebrows raised Alfred nodded his head, "Yeah of course. What is it?"
There was a significant pause as Benjamin gathered his thoughts before proceeding. "When you were younger you would often meet England when he would visit."
Where was he going with this? Alfred frowned but nodded anyway. "I'd run down to the docks and wait for him to arrive."
Franklin nodded as though this had been the expected response. "And did you know of his arrival because you'd seen his ship, or had you received word from him prior?"
Alfred frowned, a small wrinkle between his eyebrows as he thought about it. "Neither. I'd just know. I could feel when he was getting closer. I'd sometimes get to the docks hours before he'd show up, and just wait." The memories were much unwanted and he snapped out of them by focusing on Ben, "Why?"
By now George had a grim look to his face and Benjamin seemed to be contemplating the answer he'd been given while he paced back and forth. "Was this just with England?"
"Nooooo." Alfred dragged the word out and leaned back in the chair, balancing on the back two legs as he tried to follow with where this was going. "When Mattie and I were introduced I could tell someone new, like me was coming to visit before he showed up."
Ben stopped his pacing and looked over at the young nation. "Francis included?"
With a sigh of boredom Alfred nodded, "Right. I could tell when another nation was on my land, and-"
Understanding hit him like a bucket of ice water. His mouth formed an 'o'.
The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the sound of Alfred's chair righting itself on all four legs again with a loud 'thud'.
"Maybe he won't notice?" Alfred's voice squeaked slightly as George sighed and placed a hand to his forehead while Benjamin took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"I wouldn't count on that ma petit colonie."
Historical notes. In the ship I really wanted to have Alfred and Washington play a game of rock, paper, scissors, or what would have been rock, paper, blade, but did research first. Imagine my surprise when I found out Jean Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, Comte de Rochambeau was the one that probably brought the game over to the states! He was the French general who was sent to command an army in support of George Washington. What a small world. :D
Also OMG. Ben! My favorite founding father, where have you been my darling?