Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Alexander got up from the sofa, paced to his desk, and turned around to give himself time to calm down. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, but quiet, gentle, and neutral. "You're saying, you ran away from school?" he asked to clarify.

Philip gulped down some air and shook his head. "Not exactly?" he said.

"Philip," said Alexander slowly, using his most paternal, "explain yourself" tone. "Why aren't you at school?"

"Vacation?" the boy squeaked. Then, more solidly, he explained: "School let out this morning."

"Philip. I am in the middle of--" he expelled through his nose. "Okay. I have a meeting I have to get back to." He turned one of the guest chairs around and sank onto it, legs spread, resting his elbows on his knees, chin on his hands. "You've got five minutes. Can you please explain how you got here?"

Between sniffles and swallows, Philip answered. "Our vacation started today. I was supposed to take the train from Concord to Providence, but I changed the ticket. I hate Newport. And I hate Lakeside. I thought...maybe if I just came here, they'd have to let me stay."

Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, Philip's school schedule wasn't the same as Alex and Jay's. But to take it into his own hands to come to New York instead…. His mind was working a mile a minute. "That's not how it works, nene. But….it's already four-thirty. It's too late to get you home today." He pointed sharply. "Stay here and don't move. I'm going to finish this meeting and then we're going to...deal with this." Without waiting for Philip's acknowledgement, he left, shutting the door a little more forcibly than necessary.

"He hasn't had lunch. Get him a snack, will you?" he asked Maria. "And call--" he stopped dead, for Tom Jefferson was perched on the corner of her desk. "Tom," he said coolly.

"Hamilton," Jefferson returned, just as oozing as ever. "Heard your speech."

"You and the whole nation," Alexander quipped. "I'm going back in there," he told Maria, nodding toward the conference room. "Can you stay a little late?"

"I--" She glanced back toward his closed office door. "Yeah, I can stick around for a few minutes."

He mimed his thanks while already rushing back to his meeting. After apologizing profusely, he dispatched his clients as quickly as possible, but it was still quarter after five before he was able to wrap up with them. As he walked them out, his brain was already switching gears back to the issue of the nine-year-old in his office.

Jefferson was half-sitting on the corner of Maria's desk when he got back. He had one foot on the floor; the other kicked back and forth lazily. "I told her she could go. Or did you forget to read the memo about limiting overtime?"

Alexander suppressed a growl. "Well...you're a poor substitute for Ms. Reynolds, but if you're looking for secretarial work, the Williamsons are going to need a copy of Mary's transcript once she's filed it."

"Pass," said Jefferson, drawing out the word. But then he dropped all pretense of smarm. "No, I wanted to talk to you, alone. How is he? George, that is?"

"He's fine, for the moment," Alexander said, just as seriously. "Reach out to him. He's retired now; he'll want to hear from friends."

Jefferson nodded. "How soon did you know?"

"Only when he told me, Tom. The day I went down there." He was impatient to get back to Philip, but so long as Tom was being pleasant, he saw no reason to antagonize him.

"And you wrote that speech in…"

"Four and a half days," Alexander confirmed. "Right up to the last possible moment."

Jefferson whistled low. "My God," he observed. He shook his head. "All right, I have to hand it to you. It was one hell of a resignation."

"He's one hell of a man. Look...I have something I still need to do, here, so, if you want to talk--we can talk on Monday." It was odd, treating each other this way. But maybe they could finally find some common ground, if Tom could get through five minutes without being offensive.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah...the kid. Whose kid is it, anyway?" He widened his eyes and pursed his lips in a show of mock innocence. "Oh. You think no one noticed?"

With all the commotion, he hadn't had a chance to ask Maria how Philip had wound up in Greene's office. "Oh, everyone noticed, I'm sure."

Jefferson crossed his arms. "You're lucky he didn't cause worse trouble. He didn't have ID for the security desk, but he said he was here to see you, so they called up. Or so Sally said. Then when he came to the floor, he started looking for you--I don't know whether it's good luck, or bad luck, that he chose the other conference room first."

"Shit," Alexander muttered. "Is that why he was with--"

"Greene. Again, you're lucky. If it'd been Putnam…."

"Nate said that himself," he nodded. If Greene was pretty stiff about it, Putnam was Next-Gen season one Picard when it came to relating to children. "I've already apologized for the disruption. Anyone else I should talk to?"

"Greene's whole team?"

He nodded formally to Jefferson. "Yeah. Thanks. For the heads-up."

"That's for George's sake. So? You didn't answer me. Whose kid? What's the story there?"

So much for Tom staying chill for any length of time. Alexander let out a silent laugh through his nose. "It's family business," he said, turning to the door, "and it's something I have to take care of, so--"

"I mean, someone said 'nephew' but...not sure I buy it. And hey, I've heard rumors, but I want you to know, I don't believe them for a minute. Anyway, even if I did, he'd be a bit young for your...tastes, wouldn't he?" Jefferson continued nastily.

Alexander spun around without thinking. He grabbed Jefferson's arm to yank him off his unstable perch. "Don't. You. Dare," he growled. "Don't you ever think of starting that kind of slander, Thomas, or I swear, you and me are gonna have a go. And you will not. Win."

"Easy! Easy, Alex," Jefferson capitulated. He raised his arm to twist it out of Alexander's grip. "It was just--"

"No, it wasn't. It's no joke. Careers get destroyed because of insinuations like that. If it weren't for that kind of bullshit, that boy in there would be living in my home right now, safe and sound, instead of showing up here, begging for one." He stepped forward again, grabbing Jefferson's lapels. The frustration of the last two years found its target, and its voice, in that moment. "You want to know all about my business? Who that boy is to me? He's not just my nephew; he's my son, do you understand? My son!" He might have run Tom into the wall, or even thrown a punch, except that the door opened behind them.

"Uncle Alex?" Philip asked tentatively, hovering in the half-open door. "Can...we go home now?"

Slowly, still staring daggers at Jefferson, Alexander forced his hands open. He stepped back. Tom skittered away to the far side of Maria's desk, where Alexander couldn't grab him again. He looked chastened, wary, but shaken by the assault. Without breaking eye contact with Jefferson, Alexander said, "Yeah, mijo. I think we're done for now, right, Tom?"

"I'd say so. For now," his colleague agreed. He smoothed down his collar and the breast of his coat. "I can tell you're...that this is a sensitive matter for you, so we'll let it go. Besides, it's late. We'll finish this tomorrow, Hamilton," he promised, but the retreat he made suggested neither of them would ever truly "finish."

Alexander pointed back inside his office so that Philip could precede him. Hastily, he saved the work on his computer, packed up his briefcase, and gathered his overcoat. "Did you buy a MetroCard, while you were on this solo odyssey of yours?" he asked Philip.

"Yes, sir," reported Philip. He reached into his coat pocket. "I put $10 on it."

"Right," Alexander commented, feeling about as cornered by Philip's maneuver as he'd made Jefferson feel moments ago. "Of course, you did. At least that makes getting home easy enough. Come on. Grab your stuff, let's go."

"Does this mean...you're really not making me go to Newport?" Philip asked, astounded.

"Well, like I said, not tonight," Alexander said. "But we'll have to talk to your grandparents to let them know where you are. No, no argument. By now, they're probably worried out of their minds. I should have called them over an hour ago. But...at this point, another hour or two won't matter. And it'll be...more advantageous to call them from the house." He was thinking aloud, as much as explaining. As he talked, he steered Philip out of the office and across the nearly empty bullpen. They reached the elevators.

Philip swung his duffel bag into his other hand. He pulled his lips between his teeth. As they stepped into the elevator, he haltingly put his hand into Alexander's. Alex took it, unable to keep himself from giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you...mad at me?" Philip asked quietly.

"You've...complicated things. A lot. But no. I'm not mad. I'm relieved you're okay. Only prepare yourself. You're going to have to explain all this to your Aunt Lizzie." He smiled secretively down at Philip, who finally smiled back.

~

Seeing Alexander arrive with Philip in tow, and after the briefest summary of the situation, Eliza said, "Jay, 'Jandro, why don't you take Philip up to your room and help him get settled. Jay, he can take your bed. Alex, there's an inflatable mattress in the back of the hall closet, and a pump. Make it up for your brother before dinner, will you?"

"Okay," Alejandro agreed. The three of them, excited for a sleepover, clattered up the stairs without any further ado.

"So?" she continued, turning to Alexander. "What is he doing here?"

"He came on the train, by himself. Bought a MetroCard and showed up at my office. I don't--we need to call Grant and Linda so they don't worry, but...I haven't got the whole story yet, myself." He paused. "And...I'm not sure we should be in a hurry to get him back to them, if I'm honest."

Her mouth widened in a smile. "You...don't want to take him down to Newport," she concluded. "You think we should let him stay."

"Possession is nine-tenths, and all that," Alexander reasoned. "Anyway, we certainly can't take him anywhere tonight--but...I want to hear what he has to say. Something's been going on, something he wouldn't tell us. You should have seen him at the office. He was...desperate. I don't know, it's just something...not right."

She nodded. "All right. Supper's almost ready. Can you set another place? I'd better be the one to call them." She sweetened the request with a light kiss.

"Well, since you put it that way, okay."

He hadn't finished putting out flatware when Eliza came back. "No answer," she said. "I left a message. They must be at the police station."

"Great, there'll be a manhunt by morning," Alexander observed. "Well, we can call again tonight. What did you say?"

"Just that Philip was here with us, and not to worry, and that we'd talk to them later," Eliza told him. "I...didn't want to make us sound eager to set up a handoff."

"Agreed," Alexander said.

The boys came back downstairs with the thunder of a herd of rhinos. "Mom, what's for dinner?" Jay asked. "Philip's starving."

"We're all starving!" Alex insisted.

"Well, then, you're in luck. We're having food for dinner!" Eliza declared.

~

"Philip, can you tell us what happened? Was there a particular reason you decided to do this?" Eliza asked after supper. They were all sitting around the dinner table--Jay, Alejandro, Alexander, and Eliza. Only Johnny was not present, as Eliza had put in a videotape for him in the living room, to keep him occupied.

"I...couldn't go back to Grandma and Grandpa's," he said softly.

"Yes, but why?"

"They treat me like a prisoner," he claimed.

"Can you be more specific?" Alexander asked. "They've been interviewed by court representatives, and so have you. And you've talked with Miss Judy before--so...if you're being mistreated, why hasn't anyone heard about it before now?"

"They've never hurt me," Philip insisted. "They're not like that. But...I can't go out, and I can't watch TV, and I have all kinds of homework, and when I'm not doing homework, I'm supposed to be invisible."

"What do you mean, invisible?"

"I mean....I'm supposed to stay in my room except for meals. And not make noise."

"Has it always been that way with them?" Eliza inquired.

Philip shook his head. "Only since...since Christmas."

"Since your grades dropped," Alexander concluded. "Well, Philip, that sounds like they just want you to improve your schoolwork--"

"They don't listen, about school. It's horrible. Everyone there hates me. Everyone. They barely liked me before Mum and Dad, but since then it's been awful. They act like I'm dirty, and stupid and...and even the teachers treat me like I'm....like I'm a criminal. Like I'm dangerous." It was clearly difficult for him to speak, or to put his position into words.

"Jay, 'Jandro, va a ver a tu hermano, por favor," Alexander requested.

"We wanna hear--"

"Yeah, and I want you to go across the hall, okay? Let Philip talk to us without an audience. Vamos," he repeated.

With a sigh that bespoke great imposition and unfairness, Alex, Jr., got up off the couch and pulled his brother behind him. "He'll just tell us later," he muttered.

"Not necessarily," Alexander called after them. "Clearly, we'll have to have a talk about respecting privacy tonight," he promised as they walked out. "Okay, Philip. Are you...are you saying that they treated you unfairly?"

"Yeah," Philip replied. "Remember when...when Uncle Phil made fun of you?" he asked. "And...on the boat, when Grandma called you names?"

"Yes," Alexander confirmed. "I remember."

"Well...they were like that...with me. Not...not the same, but like that. They...every time we talked about history or...or things like that, they had a way of...making me feel weird. Feel bad. And they made...examples out of me. All the time."

Both Eliza and Alexander fumed, silently, to one another over Philip's head. "Baby, did they call you any names? The boys or the teachers?"

"...You mean, like the 'n' word? No," Philip acknowledged. "But...like...when we talked about the Emancipation of 1789, they kept looking at me, like...like I was a stand-in for every black person ever. And....they talked about the Civil War of 1805, and then, the teacher couldn't look at me. And when I asked what was wrong, they put me in detention for insub--insuburnidation."

"Insubordination," Alexander corrected quietly.

"Yeah. And the other boys….they were on my back. All the time. They made me clean up after them. And they called me 'orphan boy' and 'charity case' and things like that, and they said I didn't belong there, that I was only there because they aren't allowed to say no. How I'd never fit in, really. And they….they kept taking my stuff. And the teachers never believed me. I couldn't sleep there because they'd short-sheet the bed, or they'd pour honey in my hair, or...other stuff. I had to wait 'til they fell asleep, and wake up before they did. And when I didn't, I was the one who got in trouble."

"Did you tell your grandparents?"

He nodded. "They said it couldn't be as bad as I made it sound, and if it wasn't so bad before Mom and Dad died, it couldn't be that bad now. And that I was being ungrateful. That Lakeside was one of the most exclusive schools in the country, and I had to tough it out."

Again, Alexander and Eliza exchanged a look of disgust, anger, and unsurprise. "And...did you tell any of this to Miss Judy?" Eliza asked.

"She...we didn't talk about school. She asked me if I had bad dreams, or if I was having trouble eating or wanting to eat all the time, or if I felt sad a lot. She asked me if I had any friends at school, and I told her no, and she just said to try to make one. And there was one, but then the others got to him and he started ragging on me, too."

"When you told your grandparents...is that when they started making you do extra homework? Is that when they started telling you you couldn't go out and play?" Alexander wondered.

"Not...all at once," Philip admitted. "More like…a little at a time. Then a little more. And--"

The phone rang. On the second ring, Alex poked his head in. "Should I answer it, Pop?"

"No, let the machine get it," Alexander said. He jerked his head to send his son back out.

They sat still until they heard the answering machine pick up. Without listening to the message, Eliza encouraged Philip to continue. "Yes? What?"

"It got really, really bad after I called here. After Grandma caught me, I mean. They wanted to know who I was calling so late. When I said I wanted to spend time with you and Uncle Alex, they said...they said I'd never learn how to function in...um...good society, if I...if I stayed connected to you. They...called Grammy and Gramps and everyone on Dad's side trash. They said Mom shouldn't ever have married Dad, and...and they said they never trusted him in the first place. That they never liked Grammy and Gramps. That as far as they were concerned, I'd never spend a lot of time around Dad's family ever again." He swallowed. Alexander nodded to him to tell him to continue. "And they said...Grandpa said that any man who'd let a...a pervert like you marry his daughter clearly had no sense of character, no judgment. That's what he said, Uncle Alex, not me."

"I know. It's okay. Go on."

"Well, they said that I...I didn't know any better, but that if I kept talking about wanting to stay with you and Aunt Lizzie...it must be because I'm a...pansy, too. Like you and your, um, your clients? And Grandpa started talking about sending me to military school, if I kept getting in trouble at Lakeside. He said that they were going to make sure I grew up--normal."

"Jesus," Alexander sighed through gritted teeth. "Philip, your grandfather is some kind of asshole."

"Alexander! Language," Eliza admonished, nodding sideways toward Philip. "But Philip, your uncle is not incorrect. That's a horrible thing to tell you, and a horrible way to raise any child. You're perfectly normal. And there's nothing wrong with your Gramps's judgment," she added, nodding decisively to Alexander.

"I am so sick of taking the high road about all this," Alexander said to her. "Philip, you were right to come here. I wish you'd told someone all this sooner."

"I didn't want anyone to think bad things about you," Philip explained pitifully. "After you said how hard it was going to make it. And the promise we made each other about me behaving?"

"Honey, you didn't have to protect me," said Alexander. "And I thought...we also promised that if you were having problems, you'd tell us."

"But...you said I had to try to make the best of things," Philip pointed out.

Eliza cocked her head, with a wry twist of her mouth. "He...does have you there, love," she concluded.

"When I said that, I meant--" Alexander broke off, sighing, and leaned forward toward Philip. "All right, I said that. But I didn't intend for you to stick it out at the expense of your own well-being. What about when I told you to write to Miss Hochstein?"

He squirmed a little before saying in a rush: "Grandma wouldn't let me go out alone, and then when I tried to put a letter in my bag, to mail it, she found it. She opened it. She said it was full of lies and she ripped it up, and said it was your fault I'd turned into a liar. She said I didn't need to have a say about where I live, because I'm too young to know what was good for me."

"Oh, for fu-uh-Pete's sake," Alexander fumed, throwing up his hands. "I take it back, Philip. That is one hundred percent abuse. Just because they didn't hit you, that's--" He silenced himself again, for they all heard a noise outside the door, as if someone standing there had accidentally bumped into the closed portal. Grimacing, he crossed to the entrance and slid open the pocket doors. On the other side, Alex and Jay were conspicuously rushing toward the stairs. "Freeze," Alexander ordered sharply. "Come on back in, you two." He beckoned them into the room.

"Entonces, you little spies…. How much did you hear?" he asked once they were seated again at the table.

They glanced at one another conspiratorially. "Everything from when Philip said the Hunters think we're trash," said Jay gravely.

"Right," Alexander said, his voice tight. "Well, you might as well stay and hear this all together. Boys, remember when we talked on the beach?"

"Yeah, Papi," Alex answered. "Don't worry. We know we're not trash. The Hunters are."

"Yeah," echoed Jay emphatically. "Trash."

"Anything else we should know, Philip?" Eliza commented, wresting control back from the interruption. "Please tell us everything."

~

Once Philip had finished his tale, Eliza said, "Right. Well, it's past Johnny's bedtime. Alex, can you take him up to put on his PJs, and then, you three can take turns getting your baths and getting changed. I'll be up in a few minutes."

"They want to talk to each other, in private," Jay announced, as if translating to Philip.

"And we'll talk about discretion, later, too," Alexander quipped, pulling Jay's chair out from the table. "Out."

"Okay, Pop," Alejandro said wisely. Hands on Jay's shoulders, he said, "C'mon, Philip."

"Well?" Alexander asked once the coast was clear. "What do you think?"

"I think...it's worse than either of us imagined," Eliza said softly. "At least they weren't...physically hurting him. But--the damage…."

"Yeah. So we're agreed? We're not going to surrender him?"

"We are not. Oh! The message," she exclaimed. "We should see who--"

"It was Linda," he said, waving dismissively. "I could hear her asking us to call as soon as we could. I'm not in a hurry. You told them he's here, right?"

"I did." She stood. "I guess we should call them, though, to tell them our decision."

"We will," he said, taking her hands. "But let's talk first."

"About what we're going to tell them?" A smile crept across her face.

"Yep."

"Well, what is there to say? I'm not letting him go back there," Eliza insisted.

"Absolutely, but...we should be careful what we say. They're obviously rabid about us--I doubt your parents ever had any idea just how nuts they've gone. And it sounds like that school's a nightmare. I'm not sure I even want him going back to finish the year--I wouldn't, if it weren't going to be nearly impossible to get him into public school this late."

She nodded. He sighed and continued. "We've already seen the lengths they'll go to to isolate him--we can expect that they'll assume they can sue us to get him back. But Philip's right about one thing: It's not kidnapping if he ran to us. And if he does stay...it becomes much easier to file that motion on my desk. The one pushing for the court to rule in our favor, absent the OCFS recommendation."

"You never mentioned that," she said, breathlessly.

"No. I...I wasn't finished with it. And with the situation at work--oh. That reminds me. I--threatened Tom Jefferson tonight."

She couldn't suppress an inappropriate giggle. "Well, you do that about every month, so--"

"No, I mean. I...may have assaulted him," he explained, realizing as he said it that there was no "may" about it. "I put my hands on him. Nothing serious, just….grabbed him, shook him up. I'll...pay his dry cleaning or something. He touched a nerve about Philip. I'll fix it. But yeah."

"Well, knowing Tom Jefferson, he deserved it," she declared, coming toward him to kiss him on the nose. She grinned and hugged him tight. "Do you really think we should refuse to turn him over to the Hunters? I mean, morally, obviously, but...legally?"

He sighed. "I really don't know, Betsey. But with what he's told us we've got immediate cause to remove him. And now that he's here, I know the last thing we should do is send him away."

"Me, too," agreed Eliza. "So."

"So. We tell the Hunters as little as possible. Give them as little as we can to use against us. And absent a direct order from the authorities, we keep him."

"We keep him," she repeated. "Good."

"Yeah." He kissed her. "Okay, now let's call Grant and Linda again, and make their night."

They went to the office to call. Elizabeth dialed, but Alexander sat close by and she held the receiver out so he could hear the conversation. "Yes, hello, Linda, it's Elizabeth Hamilton," she said when Linda answered.

"Oh. Elizabeth. yes. Where have you been? I called as soon as we heard your message, but it's very late. We were at the police station--"

"Yes. We decided to feed our nephew, Linda, before we called you back." Alexander couldn't have been prouder of the ice in Eliza's tone.

"So, he really is there?" she asked, and to her credit there was relief in her voice, laced through her annoyance. "I'd like to speak to him--"

"No, I'm afraid he's taking a bath, just now," Elizabeth cut her off. "We just wanted to let you know that here with us, me and Alexander, and he's safe."

Linda paused with a little huff of exasperation. If she thought that "with Alexander" and "safe" were mutually exclusive, at least she had the sense not to say it out loud. "Did he convince you to get him from school somehow? He's been getting harder and harder to handle--"

"No, he surprised us, as well. He made his way to New York on his own." Elizabeth glanced at Alexander and shrugged. He shook his head, rolling his eyes. He mouthed, "no information," at her, and she nodded and held up a hand, as if to tell him she had it under control.

Meanwhile on the line, there was dead silence. A moment later, they heard LInda pass the phone off, and Grant's voice arrived. "Elizabeth? Thank you for contacting us. I'm sorry he's dragged you into this. Rest assured, it won't happen again. As Linda said, we've been very concerned that he's growing unstable, but we'll take care of it once he's home. Now, I think we should plan to meet tomorrow to...get him back where he belongs. How about New Haven?"

Alexander held out his hand and beckoned to request the phone. Eliza smirked and handed it over. "Grant, Alexander here. Let's get a few things straight. He didn't drag us into it. We've been part of this all along. He came here of his own volition, because something in him knew it was the right place to be. And here he's going to stay. We're not meeting you in New Haven or anywhere else. We're just letting you know he's here."

"Hamilton, you can't--"

"Whether or not we can, Philip's made his choice. Grant, you and Linda had a year to make this work. You blew it. It's time to give someone else a try. Do yourself a favor, and let us keep him here--at least until his spring break is over. We'll get him back to school, I promise."

"Now, listen, Hamilton. You don't know what you're talking about. That boy needs discipline and structure. And I'll be damned if I let you...put any ideas into his head. Corrupt him. He's got enough strikes against him; he needs to be--"

"Normal? Is that what you were going to say?" Over Grant's sputter, Alexander added, "He needs to be in a nurturing environment, which by all accounts does not seem to be with you. So, as I said. We're keeping him with us over his vacation. We agree to get him back to his school, but let me be perfectly clear. I will be damned if I ever let him set foot under your racist, abusive roof again. So let's just see what happens when the courts make their decision."

"Courts? What courts? What are you trying to pull?"

"We're not pulling anything, Grant. We're suing for custody. Have a nice night." Before Grant could reply, he hung up.

Eliza tackled him, whooping with joy. "Oh, I love you, so fucking much, Alexander Hamilton!" she exclaimed between kisses.

"I love you too," Alexander replied, but he pointed behind her toward the office door. "Come on in, Philip," he invited, holding out one arm.

Philip hung back at the edge of the room. "I was just coming to ask…. Uncle Alex, I...heard what you told that man. At your office. You said...you called me your son."

"Yeah. I did. If...you're okay with that." He could feel Betsey looking at him with wonder and pride, but he stayed focused on Philip.

"Did you...mean what you said to Grandpa just now?" he asked as he drifted forward across the room. "You've really been trying to get custardy?"

"Custody," Eliza corrected. "And yes. We really have." She nodded to Alexander, who nodded back. Then she continued: "We had a meeting with Child Services several weeks ago. We've just been waiting for their answer."

"So...you weren't lying, before, when you said you were working on your end of the bargain."

"That's right," Alexander affirmed. "I told you, I won't lie to you if I can avoid it. I said, it would take time, and it does. It did. And what's more, if you stay, we're going to treat you just like Alex, Jay, and Johnny. We expect you to do chores, do your homework, and stay out of trouble."

"I know," Philip said.

"But we'll also love you like them," Eliza added.

"Of course," Alexander allowed. "I just mean...Philip, we're not going to give you any special consideration. But if you're sure this is what you want, then so are we."

"I'm...sure," Philip said. "I didn't think anyone--every time someone said they wanted me, they didn't act like it once they got me. Uncle Phil and Aunt Sarah--they changed their minds. And Grandma and Grandpa--"

"Honey," Elizabeth told him, pulling him closer. "None of that's because of you. Phil and Sarah have their own problems. And your grandparents…." she swallowed, then plunged on, "are racists," she concluded forcefully. "That has nothing to do with you. Your Uncle Alex and I wanted you from the start. It's just been so complicated."

He leaned in toward her. She hugged him, and then reached for Alexander, who put his arms around them both. He didn't even think about correcting Eliza's slight overstatement. Assuring Philip of their sincerity was far more important than admitting his initial misgivings. And anyway, Eliza wasn't wrong--it had been his first instinct. It had only been by fighting those instincts that he had tied himself into knots.

"You jumped the gun a little, Philip," Alexander explained, "but I think I can even make that work in our favor. If you hadn't, we wouldn't have known how much you needed rescue."

He stepped back out of the three-way-hug, "So you're not mad, for real?"

"Oh, we're totally mad," Eliza laughed. "You traveled on your own without telling anyone. You could have been kidnapped, robbed, killed, even. Anything could have happened to you. It was irresponsible and dangerous. But...we're glad you're here, and we're glad you're all right. And we're...glad you knew you could come to us, Philip. Truly. We just wish you'd...talked to us first."

"You'd have stopped me," he pointed out.

Alexander chuckled. "He's...not wrong, Bets."

"You're here, now, though, and we're gonna see if we can't keep it that way. At least--" she looked over his head to Alexander to check with him--"starting this summer."

"What? Do I still have to go back to Lakeside?" Philip asked plaintively.

"Yes, but just one last time," Alexander said. "And I'm gonna have a word with them before you do. But by next fall, you'll be going to school with Jay and Alex. How does that sound?"

"Anywhere that's not Lakeside sounds great, Uncle Alex," Phliip laughed. "I promise, I won't even complain, as long as you keep me."

"If we have anything to say about it, we're keeping you, mijo. We're keeping you."

~

"Uncle Alex, why were you fighting with that man? At your office. Doesn't he work with you?" Philip asked later that night. He'd taken a bath, changed, brushed his teeth, and had come to say goodnight before he, Jay, and Alex presumably planned to try to stay awake as long as possible. He was leaning in the doorway of Alexander's office.

"He does," acknowledged Alexander, nodding. "That doesn't mean I like him. He...he made an accusation kind of like your parents and grandparents did, about me."

"Because of me? Oh." Philip wrinkled his nose. "Are people going to do that all the time?"

"Well. People tend to take the nastiest view available. But no, I expect if we're allowed to adopt you, that kind of thing will die down."

Philip nodded, one foot pressing into the top of the other. "Are you in trouble with your boss? Because I was there?"

Alexander laughed. "Don't worry about it, mijo. I'll take care of it. I'll take care of everything, from now on."

Philip rushed forward; Alexander barely had time to brace before the boy crashed into his torso, clinging tight. He said something, muffled by Alexander's shirt.

"What?" He crouched down so they would be eye-to-eye.

"I said...I'm sorry I made everything so hard. If I'd just decided sooner, or told someone.…"

"Hey. You don't have to apologize. I should be the one apologizing to you. That it took so long, that you had to put up with so much to get here. That I didn't listen better. It's not your fault. It's mine. But you're here now and we're gonna get through this together. Though...it might be a good idea if you still talk to someone like Dr. Mills--Miss Judy--only here, in New York."

"Why?" Philip asked.

He swallowed. It was a little hypocritical, he knew, but it was more important that Philip get the help he needed to get over his trauma. If he even recognized it as trauma. "Well..because, you've been through a lot, and...it'll help to talk to someone--a professional."

"Is there something wrong with me? Am I...am I a pansy for wanting to be here?"

"No, of course not." Alexander pulled him to sit on the sofa next to him. "You're not--you've got no reason to think you're weak, or sick, or perverse, about anything you feel or want or don't want. And like your Aunt said, the reasons you've been caught up in this family's dramas don't have anything to do with you, personally. It's not because of you." He pulled Philip down onto the sofa next to him. "I've told you that I lost my parents pretty young, right?"

Philip nodded.

"I don't know if I told you this, but afterward, my brother and I went to live with a cousin. And then...he died, too. It took a couple years to finally wind up in the home of a friend's parents. And even then, I wasn't...I wasn't theirs. They just...gave me a place to live. It was a long time ago. And it still…." He shook himself. "Things like what happened to me, like what's been happening to you, they stay with you. They're not your fault, but they can hurt just the same. If you talk to someone about it, someone who can help you work through those thoughts and feelings...well, it'll be easier to put it behind you."

"But...this isn't just going to be a place to live, is it? I mean...Alex and Jay are gonna be my brothers, too, right?"

"Absolutely. And Aunt Lizzie and I are gonna make things official as soon as we can. I just don't want you to think there's something wrong with you if you go see a counselor. That's just to help you process it all. So that you'll be able to deal with any feelings about all of the last two years."

Philip nodded, frowning. "Okay, but if Alex gets his own room and a TV, Jay and I should get a TV, too, right?"

Alexander laughed. "We'll see. Depends on your grades."

Philip made a face. "Okay," he said, making no effort to hide his disappointment.

"I told you,," said Alexander, shrugging sympathetically, "we're not going to treat you special, other than whatever you need to be healthy, or to excel. And we can talk about it more--if you really don't want to see anyone, we'll respect that, as long as you can handle all the changes, and school and everything. But with or without a counselor, I can promise, it's gonna be okay. Your Aunt and me, I swear that we'll be around for you. We might make mistakes--and you'll make mistakes, too--but we'll get through them together. Thick or thin. ¿Valé?

"Valé," Philip said with a small smile.

~

For all that it had taken 18 months to get there, things moved remarkably quickly after that night. The OCFS ruling came in the next Monday. It confirmed that the Hamiltons were excellent parents, offering a stable home that could easily expand to include Philip Schuyler. The allegations made in the Hunters' will were deemed inflammatory and baseless; and if the Court so ordered, they had every confidence that the Hamiltons would be ideal custodial guardians.

On Tuesday, Alexander called Annie Hochstein and told her about Philip running away. "He's on school vacation. We'll keep him through break and take him back. But Annie, he's made up his mind, and so have we. He's never going back to live with his grandparents." He then catalogued the abuses he had suffered between them and school, particularly over the most recent six months. "Consider this a formal complaint, a present danger to his well-being, and an immediate cause for removing him from the home to that of the closest qualified relative, namely: his aunt."

"I can work with that," Annie agreed.

While she called the Court Clerk, he contacted Lakeside, spoke to the Head of School, and explained that Philip was spending the break with them. He asked about to have Philip's assignments faxed to his office, and promised that they would see a dramatic turnaround in Philip's performance by the end of the year. Then he told them that regardless of his academic rehabilitation, Philip would not be returning--and he told them why.

"I recommend your board look into your anti-discrimination policies, and make sure you've got a better handle on bullying," he said to Philip's head of class. "And by the way, if Philip tells us about one incident after he gets back, I will have no problem pulling him out immediately."

It felt particularly good to play that card against the snobbish institution.

It felt particularly humbling to apologize to Tom Jefferson, but he forced himself to go to Tom's office at the earliest opportunity.

"Listen--I crossed a line--"

"No, Hamilton. I...crossed it first," Tom said magnanimously. Though he still kept his distance, keeping the desk between them. "Let's just...forget it happened. For both of our sakes."

"That's generous of you," Alexander said with narrowing eyes. "How do I know you won't use it against me, next time we go toe-to-toe?"

"Alexander...rumors are rumors. They tend to grow. But--that one's particularly ugly. I can admit when I'm wrong. You won't hear it again from me."

~

Around mid-week, Eliza walked the boys to school, taking Philip with them so that they could start the enrollment process for the following autumn. As the two of them returned home, armed with paperwork, he said, "I...don't want to call you and Uncle Alex 'Mom and Dad.' Is that okay?"

"Of course. Your Mom and Dad were your Mom and Dad."

Philip thought aloud as they walked. "Mom's name was Elizabeth, too. But she used Beth. I...don't want to call you Mom's name. But I...don't want to call you Aunt Lizzie, either, now."

"Most people call me Eliza," she offered.

Philip shook his head. "I mean...a different name. One that we'll know is...special. Like how Uncle Alex calls you Betsey."

"Well, yes, but that's only for him, Philip," she said quickly. "But...I think I know what you mean. Something that's more personal than Eliza, but one that's exclusive between us?" He nodded. "Well...I'm sure we can come up with something, if you want a special name, too. Of course...if you want another name for your Uncle Alexander, you'll have to negotiate that with him."

Philip frowned. "No...I don't think so. Uncle Alex is just...Uncle Alex. Maybe because there's no one else who calls him that, already."

"He is about as short on other relations as the Schuylers have them in quantities," she agreed. She walked a few steps, thinking. "At school, my friends used to call me Ellie. How about that?"

"Aunt Ellie," Philip repeated, trying it on for size. "I...I like that. Aunt Ellie. Is that okay?"

"Sure, Bǎobǎo. It's fine. If it helps you feel more part of the family, it's just fine."

~

[So, we've taken charge of him since then, and here's where he's going to stay. Family court hearing was yesterday, here in the city. The judge said we could have a trial custody for three months, starting once Philip leaves Lakeside next week, and that's that. He's already enrolled at Frederick Douglass for the autumn term, same class as Jay. And if everything works out, we can formally adopt him. Which means, September or October, it'll be official. Right after the new baby's due. We're about to be full-time parents for five children.]

[Et vous êtes prêts pour cinc enfants?] Gilbert asked.

[Ready or not, that's what we're about to have. In rapid succession!] Alexander typed, shaking his head. [And we couldn't be happier about it.]

[Well, bon! Je suis content que tu aies tout résolu. Mais... je pense que… This will mean less time for yourself.]

[You've raised three kids yourself, Gil. Do you begrudge the time?]

[Ah, non. C'est vrai. Alors, Alexandre, bravo. There's hope for you yet.]

[Don't say that! We've still got a lot of work to do.]

[He's still, comment dit-on, traumatized?]

[Yeah. We're planning to send him to a counselor. 'But...we'll be okay. Eventually.]

[Naturellement, bien sûr! I believe that you will, Alex. In more ways than you know.]

[Stop trying to be profound. It doesn't suit you.]

[Liar. It suits me parfaitement. And you? Have you been sleeping better?]

[Oui, I have. Good guess. It's like...knowing it was the right thing, and actually doing the right thing...that doesn't happen very often. It doesn't _get_ to happen very often. I think I didn't want to believe, in case we were disappointed.]

[But you knew what you wanted--and you say you wanted what you've got.]

[I do. I'm...happy?]

[Ha! It will be a cold day in Hell when Alexander Hamilton is satisfied.]

[I didn't say satisfied. I said, happy. We both know I'm never satisfied.]

….

[Alex? Are you still there?]

[Yes, sorry! Eliza was calling me. Look, I gotta go. She's second trimester, now. Her cravings are kicking in--and I am being told we don't have any pistachio ice cream.]

[Ah, then you had best go, mon ami. As an experienced father, you are wise not to ignore her!]

[Don't I know it!]

[Then go, and get her what she wants, before she blames me for the delay!]

[Yes, all right. I'm off. Talk next week?]

[Of course. A bientôt. Je t'aime.]

[Je t'aime bien, cher.]

With a smile, Alexander signed off, and joined his family.