DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything of TURN or AMC of course. Only my OC.

A/N: After a while of reading history books and reviewing timelines, I finally began to write this story that's been in my mind since I discovered Turn, a very well made show that quickly became one of my favorites. I hope this story goes as well as I planned, and I don't mean to rewrite history, I'm really not, only letting my imagination fly which is what fanfiction is all about. I apologize in advance it starts off a bit rocky and maybe all over the place, but it'll even out soon. I can always go back and edit.

Please enjoy!

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"The constitution is the guide I will never abandon..." George Washington exclaims to the Boston Selectmen in 1795.

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Chapter 1:

Martha and John; the two children of Martha Dandridge Custis and her deceased husband. Widowed, young and lively Martha had no children with her second husband, George Washington, as he thought it his duty as a stepfather to be "generous and attentive." Alongside that, the expensive orders to London merchants during the childhoods of John "Jacky", and Martha "Patsy", reveal doting, caring parents.

Martha Washington was highly indulgent toward her children. Patsy had everything a teenage girl would want in that day—countless clothes, her own piano, a parrot, and dancing lessons. However, by her adolescence, it was plain that Patsy was ill with a sickness that has been haunting her since she was a child.

At 12 years old, little Patsy had asked if she could have a sister, which made her parents curious of her sudden wanting. Even though George thought it his duty as a stepfather to be generous and attentive, it did not mean that he hadn't thought of it, having a child of his own with his wife.

When it became aware that they were unable to conceive children of their own, strong-willed Martha and George adopted a little girl from one of their wealthy friends who had passed on, leaving the girl alone.

"It is fate mother!" Patsy exclaims with an excited whisper as she gets tucked in for the night by her mother, who had told her that she will have a new sister soon. "She belongs with us!"

Martha smiles delightedly before whispering back, "Perhaps she does little one. You best get some rest now my dear or you won't be able to wake up and meet your new sister!" Patsy giggles as her mother ruffles her hair and quickly drifts off to sleep, dreaming of her now bigger family.

~ The next morning~

The orange morning sun cuts across the sky with a few white clouds, looming over the Mount Vernon home as the Washington's stand outside on their large porch looking down the pathway at the slave who was sent to pick up the little girl from a town over. The little girl, sitting behind the slave, hides behind him, half afraid of what her new family will think of her, and the other half excited to have a family to call her own again. The dark slave with a strong build looks over his shoulder at the young girl with a small laugh as they approach the red roofed mansion.

"My girl, there is no need to be afraid. They aren't people you should fear, they will all love you," he says with a strong continental mixed with African accent.

"If you say so," responds the little girl smiling up at him. He gives her a reassuring nod as they make it to the steps of the big white and red house.

The slave jumps off the grey horse and lifts the girl down from the saddle setting her gently on her feet, touching the rocky ground.

Before she could look at the family up closer, yellow cloth takes up her vision as big, warm, womanly arms wrap around her, hugging her. The dark haired woman wearing the yellow dress pulls away from the hug and bends down to her level with a loving smile, reminding her of her deceased mother. Elegant, is what her father always called her mother, and she believed this woman hugging her was elegant as well.

"Hello," the woman says brightly.

"Hello," the girl responds with a shy smile as one of her hands twirls her brown hair, and the other plays with the hem of her blue dress.

"My name is Martha, but you can call me mother," Martha's smile somehow growing bigger. The girl is distracted by the people behind her, who now stand closer to her new mother. Two children, a boy and girl around her age smiling shyly at her, and a very tall man who looks down at her with a thin smile, but a welcoming look in his eyes.

The tall man asks her, "What is your name little one?"

The girl swallows, not realizing she stopped twirling her hair and playing with her dress, "Lillian, sir." She looks at the family in confusion as they all of a sudden let out a laugh, even the tall man who smiles down at her tenderly.

"Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry," Lillian says as Martha shakes her head, letting one more laugh escape from her lips.

"No you did not say anything wrong, darling. You used your manners, and we were surprised that's all," she says. "Our children forget to use their manners sometimes."

"We do too use our manners!" the little boy protests with a scrunch of his nose.

"Yes son," the tall man pats his son's head making the boy smile, pleased with his self. "Lillian, my second daughter, you can call me father, but if you are uncomfortable with saying so you may call me George till then."

"Yes sir. But what about 'sir'?" Lillian asks making George crack another smile with his lips. It almost seemed forced as if he didn't want to show his teeth. She noticed a lot of men do that, at least whenever she sees any men which is hardly ever. She was sheltered by her mother before she passed on as well.

"Sir is fine too, my dear," he responds before looking to his other two children. "Your new brother and sister have been anxious to meet you. This is John and Martha, but they go by Jacky and Patsy sometimes."

"Hello," Lillian says looking at the two of them who both look a lot like their mother, not their father; Patsy has blonde curls while Jacky has darker blonde hair, and her new father, George, has regular brown hair like herself.

"Hi," they both chorus and walk up to her, not so nervous anymore.

"Do you like dolls?" Patsy asks her with eager green eyes.

Lillian smiles brightly, "Yes of course!"

"No not now Patsy, she needs to have a tour of the house and settle in. She is tired from the travel, remember?" Martha tells her other daughter.

"Yes mother. Come," Patsy smiles all the same taking Lillian's hand and leading her up the steps and into the mansion with the rest of the family with them. "We have everything!"

That night, Lillian stayed awake in bed in the room she was sharing with Patsy. She was awake because she was scared of being in a strange house that wasn't her previous home. Well, a castle is what she calls this house if it is one. Castles are beautiful to her, but something about them being ginormous only letting a couple people live there, mostly a king and queen, it seemed empty. This castle wasn't empty at all, however, which made it all the more comfortable. It'll just take some getting used to, being used to her smaller home that she believed she'll never see again.

Not being able to sleep, she travels downstairs quietly and goes to the family room where she had been all of today. It was the only part of the house that she liked so far because it was quiet, and always empty from what Jacky told her, at least until before she arrived.

As she walks down the dark hallway making sure not to walk into anything, she passes by a room with candle light emitting from it. She stops in front of the doorway looking up at the tall door frame thinking this must be her new father's office. Sure enough when she walked in, it had the name George Washington on his desk engraved into a plaque of some sorts, and the whole office was filled to the brim with books and things Lillian hasn't ever seen before.

"Lillian," a man's voice scares her out of her thoughts as she gasps and freezes in place, turning to the book shelf where George is holding a book and looking at her curiously. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

She was quiet, still scared of being in his presence, especially alone, but also ashamed that she was in his office without permission on the first day at her new home.

George sees her discomfort and asks with a raised brow, "Is there something wrong?"

"No sir," Lillian answers finally. "Well yes, I couldn't go to sleep. I meant to go to the family room, but I saw light in here. I'm sorry, sir," she says nervously.

"It's alright Lillian, no harm done. You can stay here with me if you'd like until I go to sleep. You can sit in that chair over there," George says pointing to a big plush looking chair next to his desk.

"Okay, thank you," she says walking slowly, making sure not to touch anything on the way to it.

"You're welcome," George hummed watching her before turning back to his books like nothing happened.

Feeling brave now that he's looking away, she lets her brown eyes wander around his office at all the swords, paintings, papers, and the strange tools she has never seen before.

"How old are you?" George asks now sitting behind his desk with his chosen book and looking at her curiously. "I meant to ask earlier."

"I'm 11, sir," she responds, blushing out of embarrassment that he could have been watching her look around at his personal things.

He nods his head, pleased with that answer, "You're close to Patsy then, she is 12. Jacky is 14."

She nods her head back, and holds his eye contact before he looks away and she turns back to the paintings and weapons.

"Were you in war?" she asks suddenly making George lift his head up fast, not expecting that question at all.

"W-What makes you ask that silly question out of nowhere?" He asks her with pointed eyes.

She still looks around his office as she answers, "You have swords and paintings of people fighting. And you're wearing a uniform in one picture."

"Well, then yes, yes I was. I will go to another one later on in the years if nothing goes as planned," he stumbles over his words at her great observance, and still stunned that she asked her question. He was talking about fighting with a little girl, or his new daughter at that. He shouldn't talk of such things to one so young. "It wasn't necessarily a war, a battle; there is a difference between them. And that painting of me in uniform is only me as a boy doing arithmetic—"

Her head tilts at that unknown word.

"—complicated mathematics. Math," he uses a more understandable term instead making her nod.

"Math was never my favorite," she says playing with the hem of her dress making him chuckle, but no other response.

"The other painting is of my brother. Though we do look similar, he was my half-brother," he said after a while of reading a passage.

"Was?" His head looks up at her, admiring her sharp listening.

"Yes, was. I lost him to sickness, tuberculosis they call it," he explains to her.

"My mother died of that too. That's why I'm here now. And my father was in a battle, that's how he died," she says softly looking at her bare feet. Even though George already knew of all of this, having fought alongside her father and Martha having been friends with her mother, he pretended he had just heard it for the first time for her sake. Surely she knew her parents were friends with him and his wife?

"My condolences, Lillian. You shouldn't have gone through that," George says with a warm voice.

"It's alright, everything happens in this world happens at the time God chooses, all for a reason" she trails off before looking at him directly in the eyes now. "Was my question silly, like you said? When I asked if you were in war? I don't think it was because war is nothing silly, it's serious no matter how it's talked about."

George sets his quill down as his mind is being blown away by the second at this quiet little girl who talks of wisdom beyond her years, reminding her of himself in a little way. Her father must've told her some of these things before he left fighting.

He smiles at her as he tries to bring light to their talking, "You're right. I'm sorry, it is not silly. I agree with you. And I like how you said your Bible quote, one of my favorite lines spoken, so true."

"Thank you, you're a smart man," she says falling back into the chair, getting more comfy.

"Thank you," George chuckles once more, this time his eyes have a sparkle in them, as he picks up his quill and laughs at his paper and her cuteness, dare he say it. Some moments later after he starts his letter, and recovers from their serious topic of discussion he talks once more, "You're smart too my dear. Tell me, have you ever been to school?"

Getting no response, he looks from his finished letter and to the chair beside him with Lillian fast asleep, curled up in a fetal position and clutching a pillow.

"Maybe it is time to retire for the night," he says with a smile before blowing out his candles, and lifting his new daughter up in his arms, and carrying her back to her room and tucking her in bed.

He decides to place a goodnight kiss to her forehead, to make her feel more welcomed and comfortable. As he goes out his two daughters' room, shutting the door slowly behind him, Lillian smiles in her sleep. This time she does fall completely asleep, with a heart full of content.