Hamilton oneshots

Empty place

I sighed and watched my mother carefully.

She picked at her food, but didn't eat a bite. My father ate in a flash, finishing way before us children. John and William were mulling to each other about their school work. I simply sat and ate, listen to my insane family.

I finally spoke up.
"How was the garden today father? I hear the Daisy's I'm so fond of are finally beginning to bloom?"

My father looked up, stunned to be spoken to, we normally had a strict "Do not speak unless spoken to" rule but that had gone out of the window three months ago when he died.
Father said a few words that didn't form a proper sentence but then collected himself and spoke.
"Yes they have. I was inspecting them today, just for you." He gave me a watery smile and glanced at mother, hoping for her approval.
"Angelica dearest, how is your parakeet?"
"Very very well! I can't wait to show Philip when he gets home!"

My father dropped his fork with a clatter onto the table. John and William's chatter died down. I took her hand and looked at mother, who's face had gone white and she rushed out of the room.
"Now look what you've done Angelica!" John glared at her.

"Don't snap at your sister! It's not her fault, you of all people know that John!" Father stood and flicked him hard on the back of his head (to which John yelped quite loudly, making the rest of us giggle nervously but it sounded harsh and forced) then left the room, and we heard a door slam, presumably the door to his study.

I looked at Angelica who's face had crumpled and I pushed my chair near to her.
"There there. It's okay. John didn't mean it. You didn't upset Mama. She's ok. She's just a bit sad. We all are. We all miss him dreadfully."
"He's only at boarding school! He'll be home any day! I know it!"
"No Angie. He won't. You see, he, he-"

I broke down, burying my head in my hands, overcome by grief.
"Oh do shut up Angelica! Philip is dead and there's nothing we can do about it!"
"John! How could you!" William protested and stood, leaving the table with John storming after him. Alexander toddle after them leaving only us two girls at the table.

"I didn't realise you missed him so Eliza. He's only in boarding school, shall we write him a letter?"
"It, it's no use. He won't receive it. Come along dear, let's get you to bed. I'll get nurse to take you."

I pulled on the bell and our nursery maid entered a few minutes later.
"Yes miss?"
"Miss Angelica would like to go to bed, please help her to her quarters and see that she is in bed safely and warmly. Goodnight dear sister."

I kissed her soft cheek and she simply waved goodbye as she left the room.

I stared out of the window into our garden, remembering when Philip used to read me his poems whilst we sat on the grass. He would write funny ones, sad ones and even occasionally love poems which made me giggle. We would sit in the sun as strangers walking in the park smiled at us, sometimes coming just to see the Hamilton children because, as father would put it "we are very influential members of American society." We would just laugh at him, because it's only father who is famous, not us.

I also remembered  him pacing up and down, long after dark and looking around at the city, muttering to himself, and I wondered what was going on inside his mind. I questioned him when he came back inside but he simply kissed the top of my head and told me not to worry. Oh I wish I had interrogated him further. I wish I had known what was to come.

I could have saved him. I could have told mother and she would have stopped him. It's my fault, it's all my fault. My fault
"My fault my fault my fault my- oh father I didn't see you there."

He walked towards me, his stature short but still graceful as he approached me and took my hand.
"What where you thinking my dear?"
"Oh nothing."
"You know, I seem to remember you and Philip sitting in the gardens together reading through his poetry. It was delightful to watch, your mother and I used to sit here and simply watch the two of you. It was wonderful."
He smiled sadly and squeezed my hand, I glanced down then noticed that he had taken his gloves off.

"I miss him father."
"Me too dear. More then words could describe."
"I'm going to see mother."
"She's in the drawing room, sitting by the fire, I checked on her."
"Thank you father."

I walked the dark empty corridors, and gently opened the door to the drawing room.
"Mother? It's Elizabeth."
She didn't look away from the fire, something tucked him her hand. I sat next to her and tried to take her hand but she pulled it away from my touch. I saw a corner of white lace.
"That's Philips hand-ker-chief?"
She nodded gently.
I took the corner of it, the soft silk cool on my finger tips. I eventually leant against her side and she wrapped her arms around me, resting her chin on my hair.

"I love you Eliza."
"I love you too Mama."

*** So I got the idea of doing a thing after Philips death from the perspective of a child so I chose Elizabeth. (She was only like 3 historically but she's meant to be about 14 in this so its like she's way too young to be taking care of Angie (who was 17 I think at the time of his death). It's set around February time, so like three months after he died.***

***hope you liked this! ( reminder that I'm doing a face revel at 50k reads if y'all are interested in that)***

***- Peggy x***

***word count: 1022***