Work Text:
June 1775
How were they expected to pull through?
A mere thirteen colonies against the largest and most powerful empire in the world. The odds were beyond terrifying. If any of the rebels were caught should they lose, they would be all executed. The British were merciless and cruel, and no matter how many were cut down in the mud, more would keep charging.
This is where our story begins. Forty-four year old General George Washington stood towards the back of the battlefield, flanked by two men. His face remained expressionless, but turmoil reflected in his eyes. His men were being destroyed and he couldn't order a retreat.
Lost in his inner thoughts, he almost missed the man at his side nudging his arm. The man nodded towards the conflict on the battlefield. Confused, Washington, looked back to the battle only for his eyes to widen. A young boy, only about fourteen years old, was fighting on the front lines.
The boy exuded a dangerous air as he glared at the British. The men in the front lines hesitated for a second, and a second was all he needed. Grabbing his bayonet, he shoved it into a soldier's chest. Then, with what seemed like inhuman strength, lifted him up and tossed him into a line of soldiers, sending them toppling like bowling pins.
As though sensing someone watching him, the boy stood up straight and looked Washington directly in the eye. The boy nodded slightly and disappeared into the woods.
July 1776
After the colonies declared their independence, the boy showed up again.
This time, Washington had been in his tent, mapping up strategies for upcoming battles. Someone had opened the flap to his tent, "Sir, a boy is here to see you." Washington scowled at the papers on his desk, "Tell him I'm busy."
The person cleared his throat, "Sir, it's him. The boy we saw at Bunker Hill." Washington finally looked up from his papers, interest peeked, "Show him in then."
The boy walked into the tent and the man walked out, giving them privacy. The two simply stared at each other for a few moments before the silence was broken by the boy, "Why do you wear that wig?"
Washington was startled by the bluntness of the question, "I beg your pardon?" The blond boy seemed unaffected, "Why do you wear that wig? You're not old. You're only..." He paused for a moment, "Forty-five? Not old enough to go gray or start going bald."
The general opened and closed his mouth like a fish. The boy's blue eyes twinkled with mischief, "Your name is George Washington. Born February 22nd, 1732. Married to Martha Dandridge Washington in 1759." Washington opened his mouth, but the boy cut him off, "How do I know all of this?"
For a second, the boy seemed much older than fourteen: "I know every detail of the lives of all my citizens. I'm what you're defending. My name is America."
September 1776
As Burr walked out of Washington's tent, Hamilton walked in. The two meant nodded at each other and Burr stepped out. America was leaning over a map spread out over a table. The boy was tracing his fingers along it, muttering to himself.
Hamilton cleared his throat, "Have I done something wrong sir?" Washington smiled slightly and shook his head, "On the contrary. Alexander, I've called you here because this young man," he gestured at America, "Believes you could be of some assistance."
Alexander shot a curious look at the boy, who had turned his attention from the map on the table to Hamilton. "Alexander Hamilton. Born January 11th, 1755. Nineteen years old. Orphaned at the age of twelve. Came to the colonies at the age of fourteen."
The blond haired boy looked to Washington, "This is our guy." Washington looked back to Hamilton who was staring at the boy open mouthed. The general smirked slightly and said, "Son, we are outgunned and outmanned."
Hamilton looked back to Washington and snapped to attention, "I've got some friends. Laurens, Mulligan, and Marquis de Lafayette. What else?"
America smirked back at Alexander, "This is our guy."
July 2016
So many centuries had passed. Nearly three hundred years since Alexander Hamilton and George Washington had helped him gain his independence from 'big brother England.' America would never forget the two men who had saved him, especially not on his Independence Day.
Washington had been like a father to him. He and Martha never had kids, so they had treated him like their own. He was there when Washington was inaugurated, standing beside him tall and proud. He was there when Washington died in Mount Vernon. He saw the light leave his eyes.
Hamilton had been something like a brother to the young nation. America had been the best man at Hamilton's wedding and seen him at his happiest when he married Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton. But he had also been his second at his duel with Aaron Burr. He was with Angelica and Eliza when Alexander died.
He would never forget all the men who had saved him. Never. Not Jefferson or Madison or Henry or Adams or Franklin. And certainly not Hamilton or Washington. They fought for him and his ideals, and would've been happy to die for the cause.
How does that old saying go?
Oh right.
Give me liberty or give me death.