My Dear Brother

Relationships: None

Characters: 12,451

Estimated time to read: 9 mins

Triggers: Poor relationship between brothers, Bad living conditions

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“Believe me always your affectionate friend and brother, Alex. Hamilton.”

James set the letter down with a long, drawn out sigh, something more pained then it would initially seem. His brother was going to be the end of him, and he had spent his whole life trying to avoid giving anybody the power to do something like that.

He had asked him for money, but please, don’t hate him for it. He was at rock bottom. He had spent his time wrongly yes, but in his defense he had truly tried every other option before reaching out to Alexander. He didn’t like asking for help, especially when it involved money. He had always been far to much like his father in that sense, but something rooted in blood wasn’t something you could change.

He tore his gaze from the letter sitting on his old, beat up desk, forcing it across the house he was living in. Everything had water damage to it, the roof, the walls, the floor, even the furniture did. On top of that, the little furniture he did have was practically falling apart, all things that should have been discarded long ago. Only one of the windows in the house wasn’t broken, all the other ones were cracked, shattered, or some place in between. He had no food, he was lucky to find suitable drinking water. He had spent months denying it, trying to find a way around the truth, but he couldn’t avoid it anymore. If he stayed like this he would surely die, and if there was one thing that scared him it was dying.

So yes, he had finally caved, spent the rest of his money on some parchment, ink, and a quill. He had wrote up a letter, he couldn’t exactly what he had said in it, and sent it out.

“I have received your letter of the 31st of May last, which, and one other, are the only letters I have received from you in many years. I am a little surprised you did not receive one which I wrote to you about six months ago.”

He had received that letter, but he had ignored it. Six months ago he had been doing rather well, he hadn’t had any need to acknowledge his brother. If only he had known how quickly things would change, that eventually he would be the one begging at Alexander’s feet, relying completely on his forgiveness, on his mercy.

He had honestly been expecting to never hear back from his brother, it would be the fair thing. He had left, knowing full well he had been all his little brother had left, he had turned away and went on a path Alexander couldn’t have followed at the time, all in an attempt to save his own sorry hide. He really was just like his father, clearly he had been named right.

And yet here he was, reading a letter that read as if it had been written for two brothers of more then just blood, as if they were brothers of love.

“My affection for you, however, will not permit me to be inattentive to your welfare, and I hope time will prove to you that I feel all the sentiment of a brother.”

That wasn’t right, he didn’t deserve that. How could it be Alexander still wanted to help him, how could it be he wasn’t filled with hate, with spite towards him? He wanted it to be that way, he wanted himself to be treated in the way that was just.

Liar, he though bitterly to himself, if that was true you would have never wrote him.

He sighed once more, though this time it was a more quiet, tired sound. Picking back up the letter, he skimmed it over once more, though his focus went almost immediately to one of the last points his brother had made.

He was asking about their father, the man who had left them for dead, who had put their mother to shame, and he was asking if he was okay. As if James knew, he hadn’t spoken to the man any more then Alexander seemed to have, or perhaps more correctly, he had never tried. Alexander had always been more forgiving then he had, perhaps he should have tried to be more like his younger brother.

“Should he be alive inform him of my inquiries, beg him to write to me, and tell him how ready I shall be to devote myself and all I have to his accommodation and happiness.”

James wished he could answer his brother’s questions, he wished he could force that man to give Alexander what he so clearly wanted, what he would still except even after all he had done.

Tears filled his eyes, from sorrow, guilt, or fear, he didn’t even know, but they came nonetheless. It was in that moment that he realized he hadn’t cried in years, because for most of his adult life he had closed himself off, and somehow, someway, his little brother had brought him back into the open.

A thought crossed his mind then, it was brief, quickly pushed away, but there. He should go to Alexander, surely he deserved to talk to him in real time, it was evident Alexander would love to do so. Yet, it could never be. He had placed himself in this predicament, a strange place of being both to scared to reach out and just unwilling to. He couldn’t blame anyone for it but himself, though if he were honest he would like to.

At the very least he should write him back though, he still had some ink and his quill, as well as a few more pieces of parchment, there was nothing stopping him from doing that. But once again reading the letter in his hands, he realized he couldn’t do that either. He couldn’t lead Alexander on anymore, make him think there was a chance of reunion between the two of them.

James was a screw up, he had made himself into this and he would die as this. Alexander had made a name for himself, he had fought and won a war, he had gotten married, he was going to break the chain of bad people in his family, he was going to be the change. He refused to ruin that, James just couldn’t hurt Alexander anymore then he already had. If he had to push him away in order to do that then so be it, he would rather have Alexander hate him, or even feel the loss of him all over again, then forever suffer along with him.

He never wrote back.

~

Years later Alexander would get the news of James ing, dead at the age of only thirty three. He would sit down at his desk on that night, his heart weighed heavy with the pain of another brother lost. However, no tears would be shed for James Hamilton as he thought of that one letter.

He never did write back, did he?

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Well, here it is. This is my entry for the #SiblingsChallenge. I actually really like this one, it was nice to write from a lesser known person’s perspective, especially one who may not be viewed in the best light.

So, this story is about Alexander and his brother, James Jr. The letter James is thinking about is an actual letter that Alexander sent in response to James asking for money, you’ll see that all the little quotes, as well as the title, are real sentences taken from that letter. It can be found here.

So yeah, not much is known about James Hamilton Jr., other then the year he died, and a few other facts, though most of them are about his younger life. I took some creative liberties with this story, based on the little information I had and my own view of things, so if you don’t agree with anything know that it was just my personal preference.

Also, how did this story get so long? I’m quite certain that this is by far the longest story I’ve posted on here thus far, but oh well. I’ve been hoping to write some longer stories anyway.

So that’s all I really think I have to say, other then I hope you liked my story! And until next time this is F0R3V3RCAT, g off~