History Has Its Eyes On You ~ A Hamilton Fanfiction (Book 1, Act 1)

The Camp

A/N

Just a heads up before we start: I've been doing research, and found that practically nothing happened in 1780 in Washington's army. Therefore, I will take events between 1779 and 1778. This will include The Sullivan Expedition and The Battle of Monmouth.

~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N POV)

The journey felt like days. With no one to talk to, it was like watching paint dry. Though I will admit, the countryside is quite beautiful. The way the land cooperated elegantly with its surroundings; I was filled with hope. I avoided any eye contact with others, still too afraid to be recognised. However, no one had deemed too suspicious, so as long as I kept up this act, all would be well.

I hadn't paid much attention to Alexander's conversations. He was mainly blabbering on about politics, to which I wasn't really interested at all. Just a bunch of men arguing over who gets to stand at the front of the line. At home, it was almost like he was a completely different man... I suppose more family-orientated. Ever since I'd informed him of Elizabeth Schuyler, those many years ago, he couldn't shift her from his clouded mind whenever the family had recently passed by.

"Alright, everyone out!" an older man grumbled, his face covered in wrinkles. Still yet, he seemed strong for his age. Everyone flung themselves out on to the ground, me included. I scuttled away from Alexander as quickly as possible, joining another random group of people. Carriages from all over flooded in, supposedly coming from different cities.

I assumed that we were currently at one of the camps. Large tents were set up across the land, presumably where meetings were held between higher ranks. Just to think that George Washington himself could be in there. When he was on leave, Alexander would always go to meetings with him, and every time I asked to come along, he persistently said no.

I never knew why.

Soon enough, everyone had supposedly arrived. Around a hundred men huddled together like a bunch of penguins, having the time of their life. "Is everyone here?!" the same man from before screamed. He didn't even let anybody answer and carried on. "Good. Now get in a line, quickly!!"

We all shuffled around, standing together in unison. I mimicked all of the others, standing to attention. I puffed my chest out, clenching my fists tightly. "For those of you who don't know," -he paced back and forth, hands held behind his back- "My name is General Wilson. If you fail to address me as so, it will result in tremendous consequences, am I clear?"
"Yes, sir!" we answered.
"I said am I clear??!"
"Yes, sir!!" we yelled louder. I flinched from the sudden eruption of noise. Unfortunately, Wilson took notice.

He slowly paced over to me, getting right into my face. Our noses were almost touching, and I could smell his terrible breath. "What's your name, boy?" he asked.
"Sop-- Charlie Miller, s- sir..." I stuttered nervously. Everyone kept their eyes to the front, not daring to look our way.
"Pathetic. So afraid that you can't even say your own name." he criticized. "Let me tell you something, Mr Miller."

His mouth moved over to my ear, sending air through it forcefully. "If you keep this up, you won't last a second out there." he whispered. "You'll be torn to pieces like a helpless pig in a slaughterhouse. If you don't make a change soon, I'll be taunting you day-by-day as long as you remain here. Am I clear??!!" he shouted the last part, making my head ring.
"Yes, sir!!" I obliged.
"Good."

He stepped back, pointing a finger at me. "A clear example of one of God's unworthy creations, gentlemen." Wilson condemned, "Be sure to save yourself from this sin." People took sharp glances at me, shaking their heads with disappointment. I looked down, regretting even coming here in the first place.

"Now, General Washington will be arriving at dawn. You are expected to wake at 0500 each and every morning. Rations will be provided, though we cannot guarantee you all will get a taste. Now pair up, for you need to find someone to share a tent with." We all fell out, and soldiers immediately started clinging to their friends. I awkwardly stood silent, crossing my aching arms whilst scanning the crowd. The ones with partners stood to the side, whilst those who didn't were left unoccupied.

There were only three of us left: myself, another man and... Alexander? From what I remembered, he was good friends with John Laurens so... where was he? He kept tugging at who I remembered to be Marquis de Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan to join him, but they refused. "Found no one? Well you know the drill: you three'll be sleeping on the grass unt--"
"If I may, General Wilson." the other man interrupted, strolling next to him. "It'd be an honour to pair up with Mr Miller here." He gave me a small smirk, though I couldn't tell if it was out of honour or spite.

"Very well, Mr Jackson." Wilson agreed. "But next time, do not interrupt me."
"Hear you loud and clear, sir." Mr Jackson followed over to me, and we stood together with the others. All that was left was Alexander, sighing pitifully.
"Everyone grab the equipment for your tents and fall out. Mr Hamilton, come with me."

Men dived over to the stock of tents not yet built. Worried that I won't be able to grab one for Mr Jackson and I, I too emerged myself into the chaos. "Miller!" he called. I turned around, finding that he'd somehow already managed to get the equipment. I jogged over to him, and we made our way along with the others.

~

"Alright, done." Mr Jackson concluded, stepping back to admire our- well, his creation. He gathered that I had no idea what I was doing, and took over for himself. "What do you think, Miller?"
"You're... You're asking me...?" I questioned, almost forgetting to put on my voice.
"Why of course, you've been tremendously quiet." he commented.
"Oh... Well, erm, yeah, it's great."

"It's rather small for two, isn't it?" He circled the tent, gazing curiously at it. "Gosh, how rude of me!" Mr Jackson facepalmed himself, returning next to my side. "I'm Cornelius Jackson. No need to introduce yourself, I already know who you are, sir."
"That's... erm... cool."

Cornelius laughed at my confused remark. "Have a look around, Miller. You'll need to make friends to sustain yourself for the end of the war."
"Are you my friend?" I foolishly spat out. I covered my face after realising what I'd said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"Don't fret, boy!" he comforted, "And some prefer to keep to themselves. As for you, I can see that you'll need some company, Mr Miller." He took the bag from my back, tossing it into the tent.

I left Cornelius alone, fending for myself for the time being. Walking through the camp, soldiers were already resigning to their friendship groups. I could see what Cornelius had meant: they were all lively and appeared relatively accepting. Judging by what I'd seen from him so far, these people weren't right for him. He liked to be trapped with his own thoughts; kind of like me, the real me. Not Charlie Miller, not Sophie Hamilton: Y/N L/N.

I recognised the huddle of woman and children tending to growing food. Camp followers, I presumed. Even they were chatting amongst themselves, the children running around playfully. Men were eyeing the women down, smirking at them cheekily. I rolled my eyes, carrying on through.

I drew closer to a bench, where a tall man was sat reading a book. His image rang a bell in my head... Aaron Burr. I jumped up and down with excitement, unwilling to hide my happiness. I scuttled over his way, placing my hands viciously on to the bench.

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?!!"