Alexander
I wake up to the house being uncharacteristically quiet. It is almost like a crypt and it fills me with a sense of dread as I slide out of bed and hastily throw on some clothes. I don't take too much time trying to find an overly attractive outfit, I simply throw on the first pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that I can find. The pants are ridiculously long, trailing underneath my feet occasionally as I head down the stairs. It is isn't too difficult to assume that these are Thomas's sweatpants. He is the only person I know who has ridiculously long legs like this.
Downstairs is silent, but there are several magazines sitting on the kitchen counter unopened. I stare curiously at the untouched magazines for a moment before I go wandering through the house in search of life. I head back towards the deck and I can hear the quiet murmur of voices and laughter. My pace quickens slightly as curiosity overwhelms me and I find myself rushing out onto the back deck without much of an explanation. Jefferson blinks in confusion at my sudden explosion of an entrance.
"Is everything okay Hamilton?" He asks slowly, he sits reclined in one of the many chairs on the larger than life deck which makes this situation all the more infuriatingly curious. I don't get a chance to respond before two arms are wrapped snuggly around my waist. I look down in surprise and see the dark curly hair of my oldest son, Philip Hamilton, glowing in the sunlight. Small tears begin to bubble behind my lashes as I wrap my arms around him. God he has gotten to be so big. I haven't been able to see him ever since the split. There never seemed to be a good time, nor did I ever dare to assume that I was welcome back into that house.
"I missed you Pop." Philip murmurs into my shirt, I hold him tighter than before, simply enjoying having him in my arms.
"I missed you too Philip." I pull back slightly and smile down at my son, his eyes are glinting with intelligence, hope and mirth, just as I had always wanted them to. "What are you doing here Philip?"
"I was going to come visit you at your apartment, but it isn't there anymore." He buries his face back into my shirt. "I thought that you had burned down with it." I run my fingers through his hair comfortingly as he shudders slightly from holding back his tears.
"How did you know where to find me?" I ask softly, holding my son tightly as if my arms were the only thing holding him together.
"Mr. Burr and his wife saw me standing outside where your apartment used to be, they were kind enough to tell me where you were staying."
"I'll have to thank them for assisting you." I murmur. "I'm really glad you're here Philip." I pause for a moment before looking down at my son suspiciously. "Philip, you haven't mentioned your mother once. Does she know where you are at this very moment?" Philip falls dangerously still and I pull away from him and lower myself to his level and stare into his eyes. "Philip Hamilton, answer my question: does your mother know where you are?"
"No sir." He mumbles ashamedly, avoiding eye contact with me.
"Take it easy on him Hamilton," Jefferson finally chimes in. "He's just a kid who wanted to see his dad." He looks at me pointedly and I take a deep breath before turning back to look at my son. He's only fourteen and he managed to find his way around New York and find me in the process. I have to admit that I am very proud of my son, but then again I have always been proud of him ever since he was born.
"Philip, there is no need to unnecessarily worry your mother like this. Shall we go give her a phone call and let her know where you really are?" He hesitates for a moment, staring down at his feet and then looking back over at Thomas. The two of them share a look before he turns his attention back to me and nods. I smile at my son and usher him inside, sending Thomas a curious glance over my shoulder to which he simply tilts his head with a smile. I shake my head and roll my eyes once he is out of sight, but catch my son looking up at me. "What is it son?"
"You look happy Pop." He simply replies.
"I am always happy Philip."
"No you aren't." Philip looks away. "You weren't this happy back home." My heart hurts as he walks a little faster to get into the living room.
"Philip..."
"There is no need to try and tell me that you were happy with mom. I just wish you could have told her..."
"Phillip, you are talking about things that you don't understand." I reply softly. Philip simply sits down on the couch and looks away from me, staring at the wall. "Let's just call your mom and let her know where you are."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"What?" I ask astonished. "What makes you say something like that?" He doesn't say anything as I cross the room and sit down next to him. "Philip, I would never try to get rid of you."
"You haven't tried to come see me or any of us since you and mom separated, and now that I am here you are trying to call mom at your first opportunity."
"Philip I didn't come to visit because I didn't believe myself to be welcome, if I had the choice to keep you and your siblings with me at all times I would take it. I love you," I wrap my arms around him and hold him close as he begins to tremble. "You are my son, I would never want to stay away from you for any other reason than I have to."
"Keep me with you then." He grips onto me tightly, his tears staining the fabric of my grey t-shirt. "Please let me stay here with you."
"Phillip, this isn't just up to me."
"Mr. Jefferson said I could stay here if you gave the okay." He sniffles into my shoulder. My eyes narrow. That look between the two of them is beginning to make a hell of a lot more sense now.
"He did, did he?"
"Please Pop, I don't want to have to go home and not have you there!" My heart shatters in my chest as he weeps in my arms. I cradle his head in my hand as he continues to weep. "I can't-I can't do it."
"Shh, Philip, let's take this one step at a time. First, we'll call your mother and let her know where you are, and then we'll talk to her about you staying with me for a while, okay?"
"Do you really mean that?" he murmurs into my shoulder.
"I mean it."
"Thank you Pop." He sniffles as he clings onto me tightly like a lifeline. I hold him close and stare at the wall as I try to think through what I am going to say to Eliza. My stomach clenches at the thought of talking to her again, she and I haven't spoken in almost two years. This should be an interesting first conversation between the two of us. I have a sinking feeling that this phone call is going to end disastrously for me.