Your New Right Hand Man (Request)

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@Mochamouse gave me another awesome request!

TW: death (May be a tad bit gory but not bad)

The camp was abuzz with new recruits. Three of those being Randy, Larry, and Terry (I know their not names from back then but I'm too lazy to change 'em). You see, the three men figured out they all had something in common.

They loved General Washington, and hated his right-hand man Alexander Hamilton.

"You know, we should do something to get Washington's attention." Randy spoke out one night as the three men sat around a burning flames. The fire reflected their burning hunger for power and fame.

"Like what?" Larry asked.

"We could do something to Hamilton. Everyone knows that man had the General wrapped around his fingers. Besides, he's not even American, so why should he stand beside the General!"

"That's... A good idea." Randy said.

"Thanks!" Terry said with a smile.

+++(That night)+++

Hamilton was walking to his tent when three men approached him. They had a wicked glint in his eyes, like the merchants in the Caribbean. Greedy for power and money.

"Can I help you?" Hamilton asked politely yet stiffly.

"Yes, yes you can." One said with a laugh and the three men descended on Hamilton in a rage of punches and kicks.

+++(Two months later)+++

Lafayette had dragged Hamilton away from his work. It had been two months since the new recruits had come and Hamilton still walled himself up, refusing to leave his desk.

So they were here, Lafayette forcing Hamilton to go on a walk around the encampment. He noticed the other man's eyes darted around nervously.

"You ok Petit Lion?" Lafayette asks Hamilton, using the nickname he had so fondly given the small man.

"Y-Yeah I'm good." Hamilton says quickly with a breath, maybe a bit too quickly.

Lafayette raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. A swarm of new soldiers camp into the camp, done from training and Lafayette watches as Hamilton stiffened as three men walked by.

Lafayette had always been good at judging people's emotions so thanks to Hamilton's stiff form and the passing men's laughs he knew something was going on.

"Come on, let's head back."

"Please," Hamilton's says with a forced laugh.

+++(three weeks later)+++

Washington had been growing increasingly worried. For the past three weeks his son had been acting strange to say the least. He ignored Washington and never stopped by to say hi. He would make excuses on why he wouldn't go for their night time walks. Washington had only really seen the young man when they were holding war meetings. But even in those he rarely talked.

Some of the men say this as a blessing but to Washington it was a killing curse.

Tonight though Washington had finally convinced Hamilton to go for a walk. (If he didn't, Washington threatened to burn his desk, parchment, and ink.)

As he made his way to Hamilton's tent alone in the dark, the moon high above he heard a voice carried on the cool brisk wind.

"Oh look, it's the General's favorite!" a voice mocked, Washington was confused, who would be out this late? Only he and his son ever did midnight walks? Speaking of which, where was Alex? Alex promised he'd join him tonight?

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