(A/N) I don't own any of these characters, nor do I make any profit of this fic.

Before.

Alexander Hamilton sighed as he looked up from his test to shoot a glance at the clock.

10:31.

In 19 minutes, he would be done for the day and had to go home. He hated this, the days that school would end early and he had to go home to the foster family that had taken him in. Most students lived for days like these, but Alex didn't. Another look at the clock.

10:32.

He looked back at the paper and edited the last question, before flipping the paper around to check all his answers for the third time. And after that, he checked them for the fourth time. This test would make up 10 percent of the final grade, so he couldn't screw it up. Of course he had done all of the reading weeks before the rest even started worrying about the test, and in class he was one of the few who always raised their hands to give the teacher the answer. Hell, Alex even corrected the teachers in some classes, but still. There's no way one could be too sure.

Alex shot one final look at the clock hanging on the wall when he heard the bell ring. He got his backpack and walked out of the classroom.

After that, things happened so fast it felt like a blur.

The last thing that Alex could tell the social worker was him stepping inside of the house and seeing his foster father, George King, beat the shit out of one of his foster sisters, Beth. He remembered he had stepped in to help her, but after that, his memory wasn't there. Beth had been able to tell the workers that King beat Alex until he wasn't moving anymore, and then walked away. She had called 911 and after that, Alex remembered waking up in a white room. He had heard a nurse whisper things to him, trying to get him to regain consciousness.

Around five minutes after he had opened his eyes, he felt alert enough to sit upright and started talking about all the things George King had done to him and his foster siblings, beating them whenever they didn't immediately do the thing he asked for. Sometimes he even did it when they did do it, but he decided it wasn't good enough. Or the times he had drank too much and outed his anger to the children in the house. The more he talked about the abusive behavior of his former foster father, the more he noticed the social workers exchanging nervous glances, and he saw the doctors worry.

He talked and he talked and he talked until everyone who mattered had heard his story, and after that, he started writing in a notebook that had laid next to his bed with a tiny pencil. He wanted to take his mind of of things, didn't want to think about the Kings anymore. God, he didn't want to think at all anymore. He just wanted to lose himself in a story where everything would be alright. Because of the lack of books in his room, Alex just created a story for himself. He wrote about his mother, and created another life for her. A happy life, with peace and no illnesses and no hurricanes. He didn't stop until midnight. Until his room was too dark, and his eyes were too heavy to continue. Alexander felt himself falling asleep, and his last thoughts were him wondering who his new foster parents could be, hoping that they wouldn't suck as bad as King.

Now.

"You shouldn't be nervous about the Washingtons being willing to take you in, young man. The trouble and chaos many would think you have caused are something that would scare most people off, but I know George and Martha would never back off from a challenge." The social worker who had picked him up from the airport, a pretty woman with long, dark hair and red lips smiled at him. "You mustn't worry, though. I know it wasn't your fault the Kings were abusive, and you are in no way to blame, but still. It's hard to explain." Alex just smiled at her. Of course nobody would want to take him in. He was an abomination. He only caused trouble, everywhere he went. He shook his head. No. He wasn't to blame, the pretty woman -Martha...? Maria? Maria.- had said so herself. He must have looked worried because he felt Maria putting her hand on his knee. "Like I said," She smiled "don't worry."

He really didn't want to worry anymore.

When the car arrived at a big mansion about three hours later it was already dark and Alex was sure that the lady behind the wheel had made a mistake. It wasn't possible for his new parents to live here. This house was way too big for a foster family. But when he looked sideways at Maria, she was just smiling at him and encouraged him to get out of the car.
"Come on, Alexander, let's go outside. I'm sure George wants to meet you." Alex sighed and opened the door of the car, and almost slipped as soon as he set one foot outside of the car. He looked down in wonder. There was layer of ice on the driveway, which he hadn't expected. It was that moment he realized how cold he was. He searched for Maria, who was getting his bag (He only had taken his books and one pair of jeans with him) out of the car. "Why is it so cold here?" Maria looked up at him. "Because it's winter, sweetie. Surely you know how cold it can get around here?" Alex was confused. Of course he knew the cold. When the hurricane hit, he was constantly soaked to the bone, and almost never warm. But... "It never freezes where I come from. And in California, when I lived with King, it was always warm, if not hot." Maria chuckled and handed him his bag. "Well, you should get used to it. I'm from Florida so I know the feeling, and let me tell you, it hardly ever gets warm around here."

Behind him, Alex heard a door open and in the corner from his eye he could see a golden hue come from the house. "Alexander? Come in! It's way too cold for you to be outside without a jacket." Alex saw a woman with brown hair stand in the open door. He looked up at the sky to search for the brightest star in the sky - "If you can find the brightest star in the night sky, and follow that, you will always be able to come home." His mother smiled at him in their cramped little apartment on the island. - but he couldn't see the stars because of the clouds. He sighed and carried his bag to the front door.

The woman looked nice enough, and Alex almost didn't know what he was nervous about anymore. Because they always seem nice at first, a little voice in the back of his head told him. George King didn't look like he would harm Alex in the beginning, but the tables turned not much after. But the woman smiled and Alex's worries seemed to melt away.
"Hello dear, I'm Martha Washington, and you'll be living with us from now on. Come in, George and our other son Gilbert are already sitting at the table." She grinned playfully at him. "We should hurry up, if you still want to eat, at least. Once George and Gilbert start eating, there's no stopping them." Alex smiled uncomfortably, and glanced at Maria, who was making a small hand gesture to indicate Alex hurrying up to join the family. 'Good luck!' she mouthed before turning around and starting the car. Alex watched the car pull out of the driveway and listened to the fading sound of the wheels driving away from the house. He turned on his heels and walked into the house where a wave of warmth immediately hit him, like he stepped into a warm bath.

He followed Martha into the living room, and heard a voice screaming with a thick french accent. "Who is the best? C'est moi!" Martha shook her head and he curiously followed her into the dining room.

A young boy with a fluffy ponytail was standing on his chair with his left hand on his heart and the other in the air, and on another chair at the table, a tall dark man was shaking with laughter. Martha paused her walk for a second, and then continued to walk toward the man in the chair. She whispered something in his ear, and the man looked over at Alex. A smile spread across his face. The boy with the ponytail climbed down from his chair and stuck his hand out to Alex.
"Bonsoir, mon ami! I'm Gilbert du Mortier Marquis de Lafayette -"Just call him Lafayette or Gilbert" said Martha - and I'm very happy to meet you. We have awaited your arrival, but now you are finally here." Alex looked at his hand and carefully shook it, only to have Lafayette shake it energetically, making his arm hurt a little, the bruises on his ribs starting to ache. Alex bit his lip and tried to ignore it.

The other man in the room walked toward the pair, and even though Alex stuck out his hand, he didn't shake it. Instead, he put a hand on Alex's shoulder and crouched a little, so he could look Alex in the eye. "And I'm George Washington, just George for you, son." Alex felt the urge to correct the man, he wasn't anyone's son anymore, but resisted and just nodded. George looked him in the eye for another moment and then stood up and pulled up a chair for Alex to sit on. "Do you want to eat with us, or do you want to go up and see your room first?" Alex was ready to decline the offer of dinner and go to his new room to write, when his stomach rumbled loudly. Upon hearing this, George chuckled and Alex sat down at the dinner table. The food on the table looked and smelled delicious, and he felt his mouth water at the sight. "Here, you have to taste my mother's green beans. Je sais, it sounds weird, but have a few, they're good." Lafayette handed him a bowl with green beans and Alex put a few on his plate before handing the bowl back to Lafayette, who already had a big pile of them on his.

The Washingtons soon started chatting with each other, Lafayette doing most of the talking. "Mais non, listen to me, he is not, how do you say, OBSESSED with the turtles, it's just that he has, like, twelve of them." He stuffed his mouth with a big spoon of mashed potatoes. "But like I've argued before, someone's sanity isn't directly linked to the amount of turtles someone has. Mais il les adore trop!" Even though Alex understood the little French Lafayette was speaking, it was one of his first languages after all, he didn't know who he was talking about. He wanted to ask, but the conversation had already landed on another subject, and Alex didn't really feel like interrupting the rapidly speaking boy. About ten minutes later, everyone was finished with eating and Martha took his plate and walked to, what he guessed was the kitchen. "Can I help?" He asked nervously, not sure if he was supposed to do anything, and really just wanting to leave. Martha looked at him in a way he couldn't quite place. "No honey, you don't have to. Just go rest, you're probably very tired. Gilbert will show you your room." With a smile she disappeared into the other room, leaving Alex with George and Lafayette. George sighed. "Well, I'm going to my office. I've got quite a bit of work that I have to finish. Gilbert, I assume you know where Alex will be going to stay?" When Lafayette nodded, George seemed satisfied with the answer. "I'll see you both tomorrow then." He turned to Alex. "If there's anything you want, or if there's anything you need, feel free to ask me or Martha. We want you to be comfortable. I have to work tomorrow, but Martha will take you shopping for some new clothes. Okay?" Alex nodded. George nodded shortly, and walked to his office.

"I'm so going shopping with you tomorrow." "Huh?" Lafayette looked very serious as he repeated his earlier statement. "I'm joining your little shopping trip. I'm actually surprised Martha didn't invite me in the first place." When they reached the top of the stairs, they turned left into a long hallway. Lafayette stopped at the second door on the left. "Voila. Ta propre chambre." He opened the door and revealed a spacious room with a big window. Alex was perplexed. It wasn't like he hadn't expected a room of his own in a house this big, but he hadn't dare to dream of a room this big. There were at least three bookshelves filled with books and a king sized bed with blue sheets in the right corner. A dark wooden desk stood across the bed and had a laptop on it. Lafayette dropped his bag on the desk and pointed to a door. "There's your wardrobe. Don't worry, we'll get to filling that tomorrow. The bathroom is down the hallway to you left, but you'll have to share that with me." Alex was still standing in the doorway, lost for words. When he felt like could finally say something, he pointed at the laptop. "Whose is that?" Lafayette turned around to look at what Alex was pointing at and said. "Oh, that. That's yours."

"Sorry?"

Lafayette looked at Alex and shrugged. "It was once George's laptop, but he has a newer one. So you can have it." He mistook Alex's look of disbelieve for dissatisfaction, and quickly added. "Of course, if you want a newer one as well, we can make that happen." Alex shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. I just can't believe I have a room of my own, and you gave me a laptop. It's..." Well, what was it? It wasn't like Alex wasn't happy. "It's a little much... But it's great."
Lafayette smiled. "I'll leave you to it, then. Get some rest now. Tomorrow will be an exciting day." After saying that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Alex looked around for one last time before stripping down to his underwear and laying down on the (way too big) bed. Before he closed his eyes he prayed to his mother, to everything he held holy, that the Washingtons would be different and he finally didn't have to worry anymore.

(A/N) Feel free to leave a review!
Translations of French:
Bonsoir, mon ami: Good evening, my friend
Je sais: I know
Mais il les adore trop: But he loves them too much
Voila! Ta propre chambre: Here you go! Your own room