Hamilton One Shots

Philips' "imaginary" friend (lams [pt. 2]) (past AU)

December 10, 1793
Philip is eleven

"Any normal eleven year old does not have an imaginary friend Eliza," Alexander spoke as he looked out the window at Philip, who was playing in the snow.

"Give him time Alexander. He's still only a child," Eliza reassured her husband, "You have to realize that most children learn and cope with things differently. This is probably just something that Philip is doing to cope with something.."

Alexander looked at his wife, "What could possibly be something that he's had to cope with since he was three?" He questioned.

"Well for one, his father never looked up from his desk. You know he needs a father that will go do things with him, Alexander," Eliza stated. Alexander rolled his eyes as he looked out the window again.

"John! Let's have a snowball fight!" Philip giggled as he picked up some snow off the ground. John let out a soft chuckle.

"How about you try and hit me with snow as I run around?" John proposed.

"Yeah! Ready, set, run!" Philip yelled. John started to run around and Philip missed him with every throw. Philip finally hit John once. John fell to the ground then started to laugh. This caused Philip to laugh as well.

Alexander looked at Eliza again. "That's not normal..." he said.

"He's a child. He has an imagination of his own. Let him be a child," Eliza replied.

"No not that. I could've sworn one of the snowballs he threw into the air stopped..." he looked back out the window.

Eliza looked at Philip. "Alexander...you should get some rest. Your lack of sleep is getting to you." She grabbed Alexander's hand and kissed his cheek. "Let's go."

Alexander sighed. "Fine." He huffed and walked to his and Eliza's room.

John stood back up and brushed himself off. "We should go sit in by the fire, Philip," He suggested.

"Okay. It is cold out here," Philip replied as he started to walk to the door of the house. John followed him in.

Once Alexander woke up he walked out into the living room to see Philip sitting in front of the fire. "Hello Philip," he greeted.

Philip looked at him, "Papa! Guess what John just told me about."

"What?" Alexander chuckled. He sat down beside Philip.

"He told me that when you and him were friends, you used to write to each other. He said that getting a letter from you always made his day," Philip smiled.

Alexander froze. Was...Was Philip really talking about John? The John Laurens he missed so dearly? No. No it couldn't be...yet everything lined up. From the stories Philip claimed John told, to the games Philip would play. They all seemed to be things John would do. Maybe it was possible that...that John Laurens was a ghost.

"...Pa?" Philip said as he waved his hand infrount of Alexander's face.

Alexander blinked and shook his head, "Sorry...I just...I could've sworn that you were talking about John Laurens...an old...friend of mine."

"That's his name! John Laurens!" Philip exclaimed.

"No. It can't be...he's dead. He's in heaven..." Alexander murmured. He could feel himself choking up.

"Well yeah. He's dead. But he's not in heaven. He's here," Philip looked over at John who was staring intently at Alexander, "Beside me."

"Alex," John muttered.

"Philip...no. that's not true. It's a part of your imagination he's not real..." Alexander denied what Philip was saying. He stood up.

"Where are you going papa?" Philip asked.

"I have so much work to do," Alexander said as he walked off.

Philips smile fell and he looked over at where John was sitting but there was nobody there. "They must've really loved each other," he sighed.