The secession letters started to come for Marion after the start of the new year. The first was from Sadie Mae, the state of Mississippi, on the ninth of January. The next day, Tony, the state of Florida. The next, Jackson, who personified Alabama. Just over a week later, Marion got Wyatt's letter. The state of Georgia had seceded as well. By the time that the letters had slowed, which was after the start of February, two more states had seceded- Lillian and John, who personified Louisiana and Texas. Marion couldn't be happier, now that she wasn't alone.

Sammy, however, changed more and more with each new addition to the Confederacy. Not only physically, but mentally as well.

The most obvious difference was how he looked. He aged impossibly quick, going from the appearance of a seven-year-old boy to a twenty-year-old man in a matter of days. His body grew stronger by the hour, a reflection of his people's preparation for war. The freckles that had dusted his nose and cheeks only days ago were now nearly completely faded. His boyish looks were replaced with the face of a man, and he had somehow picked up an air of controlled passion that any woman who spoke with him found utterly seductive.

The people of the new states had voices all their own, and they incited new thoughts and feelings in Sammy's mind. His temper became shorter, and he became prone to sudden outbursts that could quickly become terrifying, only for him to settle down as quickly as he had gotten stirred up, and one would never know that he had just screamed unspeakable obscenities at someone. His mannerisms became refined and pointed, and he was soon the very essence of the classic Southern Gentleman. Marion didn't know what to do with this unpredictable man, who was a boy just days ago, who now lived in her house, so she sent him outside to work or run errands to town just so Marion could get away from him. There was a look in his eyes that she didn't like. She didn't want to say it, but she could see a simmering rage in Sammy's eyes, and it unnerved her. She also feared for the day that that concealed rage would come rushing out, drowning anyone and everyone that was in the way of it.

For the most part, Sammy didn't want anything to do with Marion, or any of the other personifications of the States that came to visit often. Unless Marion forced him to stay, then he excused himself and took his leave to the back fields, where he would busy himself with splitting wood for the furnace, caring for the horses on the property, or just walking the fields to watch the slaves work, occasionally helping them. He knew that this was all slave work, but it was the only excuse he really had to get away from all of the prim and proper people that were always in the house nowadays, who always were either demanding things of him or doting on him. When he was out of doors, he could think. About everything that was going on. About his people, about how he had grown so rapidly, about the approaching storm that was sure to be a bloody civil war.

The prospect of war was what Sammy spent most of his time thinking about. He didn't want anyone to die, and he didn't want to be the one to take a life. So what was he to do? He was the personification of a nation! He had to lead his people, to be the example for them, to be their courage for them when their own courage wavered. But… He just didn't want to. No one had asked him, he had just been thrust into this whole situation. No one cared to know what Samuel Lee Jones thought of everything.

He was just a means to an end. The pathway to freedom and liberation, but this 'freedom' and this 'liberation' was far from what Sammy thought the two words meant. Eli had explained it once, and Sammy liked his definition better than what the other states had told him that they meant.

¨Na ya see, Sammy,¨ Eli had said to him once, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, ¨Freed'm be a state o' mind just a much a it be bein' able to do whatev'r ya feel. I may not be free in body, but I be free in spirit.¨ Eli had then pointed a thick finger at Sammy's chest, right over his heart. ¨If ya free in he'e, then ya get to be ok bein a slave. Ain't nobody bin born yet dat c'n put ya heart in bond'ge. Neva forg't dat.¨

-x-x-x-

Alfred paced in the oval office, his hands clasped behind him at the small of his back. ¨You don't understand, Mr. President,¨ he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time this hour, ¨The people don't take this seriously! They honestly don't believe that the South is going to put up any kind of fight at all!¨ His voice was growing more and more strained as the conversation went on. Lincoln sat silently at his desk, his fingers drumming against the dark wood in rapid succession. ¨They don't understand that people will die!¨

Lincoln pursed his lips together and sighed. ¨What am I supposed to tell them?¨

Alfred stopped pacing and hung his head. ¨I honestly don't know. I'm just at a complete loss. How could this even happen in the first place?¨ He resumed his pacing once again, now faster.

Lincoln shook his head and sighed again. ¨You know the same as I. Which is next to nothing.¨ Lincoln pushed his chair back and stood to his feet. Alfred stopped his pacing again and faced him. ¨I fear,¨ Lincoln started, slowly and deliberately, choosing his words carefully, ¨That the people will simply have to watch and wait. They will see the gravity of this in time.¨

Alfred looked at Lincoln in shock. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

¨It'll be too late.¨

¨I know. But they have to see this for themselves.¨

Alfred parted his lips to speak, but no words came.

"We can only tell the American people the same thing so many times before they tire of hearing it every time we speak, and our words lose their value. You know that I'm right in saying this. You've seen it before."

Alfred crossed his arms and sighed shakily. This was his worst nightmare come to light, and he was at a complete loss as to how to address it while keeping the bloodshed to an absolute minimum. Now, with each passing day, both he and Lincoln were being forced to entertain the possibility more and more everyday of waging a war that would tear the country apart, and the irony of this war on the horizon is that while it attempted to reunite the people, as far as Alfred could see, it would tear the nation apart.

"You're right," Alfred replied at length. "I have seen it before. And you're also right in saying that they will see the gravity of this eventually." He turned to face Lincoln head-on, and his words were venomous and cut deeply. "When they see the gravity of this, they'll be faced with the fact that they have the blood of thousands of fathers, sons, and brothers on their hands, and that is something that they will never be able to rid themselves of. The blood of my people will be spilled, and I will never be able to replace that which will be lost! These are my people, do you understand me? My people!"

"You fail to realize that these are my people also, Alfred." Lincoln paused to let his words sink in. Then he slowly sat back down in his chair with a sigh. "I want to prevent the loss of as many as possible, but you and I both know that we can't save everyone." Lincoln waited until Alfred looked him in the eye for his last statement. "We're going to have to sacrifice much to reap the rewards, but the question remains: What are we willing to forsake in order to regain a united nation?"

Alfred ran his fingers through his hair, at his wit's end. Hot tears threatened to well up in his eyes, and he fought them down, but after a few seconds, he let them spill out over his eyelashes and down onto his cheeks. He was done hiding his pain. He just physically couldn't do it anymore.

Alfred's voice wavered as he spoke now. "We must do whatever we must do in order to bring my people back." He met Lincoln's eyes again, his own now hardened. "Our people."

Lincoln smiled, but it was grieved. Alfred attempted to smile back through his tears, but couldn't force his face to comply.

Alfred would not attempt to smile again for a very long time.

Chapter title idea credit goes to the Panic! At The Disco song of the same name. Please read and review, and the next chapter will be up soon! Thank you!

Amanda and Harley