If my writing is deteriorating throughout this fanfic, tell me. Please? Merci beaucoup.

Peggy had just got wind of the fact that Alex was going off to join the war effort. She couldn't stop stuttering in shock.

"The poor thing," Angelica said one day as Peggy clutched onto Alex's arm ("I'll be back before you know I'm gone!"*) and cried up a storm. Eliza was watching in a dark corner, and I could see that her face had gone white. "She's been like that for three days, nonstop. He'll leave in two weeks."

"Two weeks?"

"Might it be enough to say goodbye?"

"What, after I've known him for over a year?" I asked hollowly. I nodded at the dark corner. "I don't know, but it's enough time for Eliza."

No, it really wasn't. Looking back, there was never enough personal time for the couple. It still makes my heart wrench just remembering Eliza as a widow.

"Why is he so passionate about everything in his interests?" Angelica sighed.

***

The evening before Alex had to leave I was upstairs in my room, and two voices next door were talking about women's suffrage or something or other. Having nothing to do, I walked downstairs and opened the door to the parlor.

I shut it quickly, shaking with suppressed laughter, my face red. I did not see what I thought I saw.

Apparently Alex was dancing with Eliza and the two of them had decided to go all... well, Rapunzel/Eugene, if you will.

***

It'd been almost a year, and Alex wasn't doing too well in the army. My 21st birthday had been celebrated with an air of solemnity, and I figured there was no one to talk to besides the Schuylers, Jefferson, and Madison (who was too feverish to talk to anyway, poor guy).

Eliza worried for Alex's personal health, but I reassured her that the letter only hinted at his longing for command in the army and the army's current status.

The latter was terrible to read out loud, even though Alex had spared us some of the details. Angelica wasn't the only one pacing around her room by candlelight.

I took out my History book, sat down hard at my desk, loaded up a quill, and grabbed some parchment. After a solid half-hour, I finally came up with this:

Dear Alexander—

I'm writing on behalf of the Schuylers and myself. How is your time in the war? I know it's what you've always wished for, but as of now, all I can ask of you is that you don't act reckless, and don't do anything that puts you in danger. For Eliza's sake—just stay alive. It will be enough.

This is my opinion, which I will voice in this letter despite the circumstances: America calls for you; she sent you! She wants you to set her free because she took you in. Just as you admire Washington, I admire you. Very much.

There was a man once, from where I live. I do not know of his current whereabouts, but he did come from this land. His name was Lincoln. He said, "The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

I am asking you—no, demanding you—to be free. America needs you to win this war. And I know that you will win. Greatness lies in you. All of you. If you show this note, however poorly written, to General Washington, tell him this: You cannot control how you will be remembered, so for God's sake, try to be remembered for something good.

Alexander Hamilton, we wish you and your friends the best of luck.

Eliza signed the note without a second thought. She was too choked up about Alexander's health to notice I had mentioned her name in there.

"Eliza, I know for certain you're smitten with him now."

"I am only worried, Katherine." She replied coldly.

I was back in my room, and I grabbed my History book to search for any details about the war.

Again, it wasn't pleasant.

For Washington's army at Valley Forge, the winter of 1777-1778 had been a season of intense suffering. The American force, encamped near Philadelphia, endured unrelenting cold, hunger, and disease. Most of the army's horses died of exposure or starvation. By February, 7000 troops were too ill for duty. They had resorted to desperate measures, including eating their—

I snapped the book shut, feeling nauseous. There was a light, dignified knock on the door.

Peggy answered it just as I came downstairs.

"Angelica?" She asked, a little nervously.

"Peggy?"

"Mr. Madison's at the door."

There was a small thud of paper. Not half a minute later, Angelica glided out of the parlor and walked up to Madison. She seemed to restrain herself from worry.

"My apologies, Miss Schuyler, for arriving at a time like this." Madison smiled sheepishly.

Angelica shook her head. "It's quite alright. Do come in, it's bitterly cold outside."

"I come on urgent notice, Miss Schuyler."

"Well, you are ill." Angelica countered. "You must come inside, I insist."

Madison stepped inside the house. His hair was white with flecks of snow, and his cheeks were pink. "Where is Miss Fleming, if I may be so bold?"

"Right here, Mr. Madison." I smiled at him. He didn't return it, but stared thoughtfully at me.

"She'll do well for the job."

"Pardon?" Eliza asked, frowning.

"Washington sent letters out to poor women—women in need—asking that they become nurses for the soldiers."

I froze. "What?! Mr. Madison—"

"My lady?"

"I... I am only a student at a school. I haven't received proper training to become a doctor." And I haven't touched my Anatomy book in several months.

"Washington recruited a Head Nurse to teach everyone. And if you are a student at a school for nursing, I believe you are well-prepared." At the last sentence, his tone was doubtful.

"But... one minute, how old are the other women?"

"Around 25 years of age? The army cannot keep granting furloughs to soldiers whose families are in need."

The gravity of the situation crashed down on me. "Sir!" I exclaimed.

"My lady?"

"This is a very serious matter—"

"And an urgent one at that, too! The soldiers are starving—"

"So I've heard. But I feel I'm not qualified enough to help them." I'm not even in my college's Med School!

Madison pressed the letter into my hand. I fumbled with it and tore it open, my knuckles going white. "Wh-why me? I'm not poor or in need."

"You're new. You need safety. And your friends are in that war; do you not want to help?"

"Yes, of course, but—"

"Washington expects you in a fortnight." With that, Madison left.

*I'm so sorry for that line. And tell me if I'm rushing the plot, adding too much dialogue, or something like that. Thanks!