Even before Alexander can properly look around, a body comes flying at him and wraps him up in a tight hug.
"Philip," Alexander says, his voice breaking in the crook of his son's shoulder.
"Pa."
Time doesn't have much meaning here, but when they break apart, enough of it has passed that both their cheeks are wet with tears.
They stand for a while just taking each other in.
"I didn't want you to die," Philip says. "But I'm proud that you pointed your gun towards the sky."
Alexander smiles. "That means more than you know, son."
They set off at a slow walk, meandering in between kissing couples and heated discussions and what appears to be a giant group hug.
"So what's been going on on this side?" Alexander asks.
Philip laughs. "Nothing goes on, really. We talk, we watch."
"Who have you spoken to?"
"I spent a long time talking to Grandma. I learned a lot about her."
Alexander smiles. "I kind of had the feeling you didn't love to spend that much time with her, back when we used to visit."
Philip grins, his eyebrows raised. "Not mom's mom, your mom."
Alexander's eyes widen. "And… well, did you get along?"
"She's great, Dad. She's proud of you, and excited to see you. She said she always knew you would amount to more than life on that island."
"Who else?" Alexander asks, suddenly eager as he realizes the extent of everyone he can talk to.
"George and I have had some interesting conversations."
"George Washington?"
"We traded some interesting stories about you," Philip says, laughing.
"I don't even want to know," Alexander says. He turns to Philip and pulls him into a big hug. "I've missed you so much."
They keep walking, father and son laughing at old stories and almost-forgotten memories together.
"Oh," Philip says at some point, "I know there's a lot of people you need to see, but make sure that someday you meet Socrates. I think you would enjoy talking to him."