Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?
By: AndiKaneUnderwood
I know nothing about historically correct grammar for the times, I'm writing in English as it is now, please don't murder me!
First fanfiction for a historical figure/real people please go easy on me, I did my best.
Thank you! Enjoy!
In the summer of 1782, August 27, John Laurens laid on the ground cold and bleeding, watching helplessly as his attackers walked away with their heads held high.
Laurens was not afraid. He'd wanted more time to have the first all-black battalion, but it seems that his time on Earth is done. His one regret was not telling Hamilton of his affections.
John smiled sadly as he stared up at the sky. "Fear not, Alexander," he whispered, "We shall see each other again soon."
John closed his eyes and breathed out.
When he opened them again, he was in a quiet garden.
"Choose," whispered a disembodied voice.
"I beg pardon?" Laurens asked.
The air around him swirled and a window into the living world appeared. John could scarcely believe his eyes because there sat Alexander at his desk in his home, as beautiful as the first day they'd met in that old tavern.
Eliza stood behind, reading from a letter. John watched as Alexander's face fell.
"Choose. Continue on to death, or watch over him?"
Alexander stood from his desk, tears in his eyes, and began to leave the room. Eliza called after him, but Alexander brushed her off, "I have so much work to do."
John made his decision quickly, "I want to go to him, let me stay and watch over him! Please!" he cried, looking around as if a presence would suddenly be revealed.
The air swirled around him again and John was placed in the garden again, but in a place with a pool of water in the middle of it.
"This will allow you to see into the living world. You will watch over those you wish to from here."
John sat down at the base of the pool and watched as Alexander rushed this way and that, preparing for a cabinet meeting.
John felt tears slip down his face and for the first time, he was afraid of what would happen now that he wasn't there to temper Hamilton's rage.
"Please, Alex. Don't do anything stupid."
Hamilton~Hamilton~Hamilton
In the winter of 1799, December 14, George Washington fell asleep with his wife next to him.
He woke up to a soft voice calling him by a title he hadn't used since the end of the war.
"Your Excellency! Welcome, sir!" cried a voice he was unsure how he knew.
George opened his eyes to find that he was laying on his back looking up at a big blue sky. A familiar face stood above him, offering him a hand.
"Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens!" George breathed, "You were killed in August of 1782!" George accepted the hand and Laurens pulled him to his feet.
John saluted and grinned, "Of course, Your Excellency. I was killed by the river. I was shot from my horse, sir. It was a riveting experience."
George remembered this man as always hanging around with his Secretary of the Treasury, Hamilton. They'd been friendly, almost too friendly. George had allowed it, seeing as it made Hamilton more amicable and easier to deal with. And it made them happy. In a time when happiness was hard to come by, Hamilton had allowed Laurens to enter his life. Who was George to tear that away from him?
"Yes, I'd expect it to be. Where are we, Laurens?" George asked, looking around.
"I'm unsure if you remember, sir, but you said you wanted to stay and watch over the others. You were put here to watch over them with me." Laurens replied.
George hummed, "Yes, I do remember. Well, shall we watch over them, then?"
Laurens smiled again and led George to the pool, where another girl, young with a yellow dress, waited. "Yes, sir."
Hamilton~Hamilton~Hamilton
In the fall of 1801, November 23, Philip Hamilton walked to his death in a duel fighting for his father's name.
George Eaker mistook the count and shot three beats too early, and so Philip fell and George ran away.
Philip was rushed to the hospital to wait for death.
His father arrived shortly before his mother, they both stayed with him until he died. His moments before death were riddled with agonizing pain.
Philip closed his eyes and professed his faith to his parents. He wanted to stay, but he couldn't. He was frightened, but his family was here.
"Come, now, Philip," murmured a teary voice, "It is time for us to go."
Philip gave his last breath and opened his eyes in a garden.
"Hello, Philip." spoke a soft and kind voice.
Philip looked up and saw what had to be a ghost holding out his hand.
"You are John Laurens," Philip spoke as he accepted the hand and was pulled to his feet. "Father speaks fondly of you."
John Lauren's smiled turned sad and small. "Yes, I speak fondly of him as well. Is he well, your father? I haven't seen much of him here."
"He is well." Philip returned.
"Come, you must meet Peggy. I wish you could've met General Washington, but he has left to go be with his wife, for the time being, he will return soon."
Philip followed John Laurens to a small pool, where he was introduced to his late Aunt Peggy and he waited with the pair as time passed.
When his mother and father joined him here, he would move on like the General.
Hamilton~Hamilton~Hamilton
In the summer of 1804, July 12, Alexander Hamilton was shot in a duel with his former friend, Aaron Burr.
Alexander spoke quickly, deliriously, as Eliza and Angelica sat by his bedside.
Just before he died, he heard soft words spoken by a familiar voice, "Fear not, Alexander, we shall see each other again soon."
Then his world tilted and his eyes closed.
When he opened them again, he was laying in the field he'd dueled in, staring up a the sky.
"Alexander!" cried a voice he knew well.
"Father!" cried a second voice.
"Welcome home, son!" called a third.
Alexander scrambled to his feet and came face to face with one of the few people he cared about.
"John." he murmured, taking an unsteady step forward.
John Laurens laughed as he raced forwards, "Alexander!"
Alexander felt movement come back to him and he bolted forward to meet John halfway. "John!" he cried.
Alexander caught Laurens as the latter launched himself into Alexander's arms.
They both laughed brightly as they held each other tightly. "You've come home!" John grinned, clutching at the back of Alexander's coat.
"You've returned to me!" Alexander replied, "Oh, I missed you, John!"
A wet laugh and John replied, "I missed you, too." Then John sniffled, pulling back and wiping away tears, "Much as I would like to continue exchanging affections, there are others here who would like to see you as well."
"Others, what-?" Alexander spun around and caught sight of the General.
"Mr. President!" he cried, coming forwards to face George.
"Hello, son," George replied, wrapping Alexander in a hug just as Laurens had.
Alexander felt none of the anger bubbling beneath his skin that he had when George had called him 'son' in the past. "I missed you very much, sir. It's good to see you again."
George chuckled. "It's good to see you as well, Alexander."
George pulled back, "Now, you will say hello to someone who has waited too long."
"Father!" cried a new voice. Alexander froze.
"Philip." Alexander turned and faced the son he'd lost too early.
Philip crashed into Alexander and sent them both sprawling, with Alexander sitting up on the ground.
"Philip!" Alexander began crying, tears rolling down his face. Three years and he still felt the pain as if it were anew.
Well, to be fair, he felt the pain of John and Washington's death like they were anew as well, but the death of a child- his child, had felt like his entire being had been ripped to shreds alongside his son.
The tear-filled reunion was held for much time, a full Earth's day to be exact.
But George left into the afterlife, while John and Philip stayed with Hamilton to wait for people who would join them soon.
Hamilton~Hamilton~Hamilton
In the fall of 1836, September 14, Aaron Burr died.
When he opened his eyes again, he stood in his home and watched as people surrounded his body and carried him away to be bury.
"Padon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?" sing-songed a voice Burr knew well.
He turned and there stood Alexander Hamilton, just as fresh-faced as the day they'd met in New York.
"Hamilton. I don't suppose you've come to haunt me. I am dead, aren't I?" Burr asked.
"No, Mr. Burr, sir. I am here as a guide. And because a few people wished to see you." Hamilton smiled and stepped aside.
Theodosia. Both his Theodosias where there.
"My love." murmured his wife, coming forward and placing her hands on his cheeks. "My, how weary you've become. We shall soon fix that, hmm?"
Burr's hands came up to grip her wrists and his eyes went to his daughter.
"Father," smiled his daughter.
Burr's tear-filled eyes shifted back to his wife and he smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. "My love, how I've missed you. Both of you." His eyes shifted to Hamilton, "All of you."
Hamilton grinned, "No harm was done, old friend. I've forgiven you long ago."
Burr smiled wider as his wife and daughter took his hands and led him away from his former home and up to the afterlife.
"Come now, Aaron. Let's go home."
Hamilton~Hamilton~Hamilton
In the summer of 1826, July 4, Thomas Jefferson breathed his last breath and his eyes fell closed.
"Mr. Jefferson." spoke a voice Jefferson hadn't heard since 1804.
His eyes snapped open and there in front of him was Hamilton, a broad smirk on his arrogant face.
"Hamilton." Jefferson returned. "Hello."
Alexander took two steps forward and held out his hand. "It is good to see you."
Thomas paused, then shook Hamilton's hand. "And you as well, Hamilton."
Alexander smiled, "A friend of mine wanted to throw you personally into Hell for all your pursuits against me when we worked together in the government. He'd be here, but I convinced him to stay behind."
"Yes, James told me of a John Laurens who died many years ago," Thomas replied. "I'm so sorry for what has happened to you."
"I thank you, but it is unnecessary. Aaron and I have made nice again. You and I shall as well, I'm sure." Alexander replied.
Thomas chuckled. "What shall happen now?"
"Well, I understand you and Madison where very close, so you're welcome to wait with myself, John, Angelica, and Peggy for him to join you here. Or you can continue on into the afterlife to wait there." Alexander replied.
Thomas hummed in thought, then nodded, "Yes. I shall wait for James. Thank you, Hamilton."
Alexander smiled once more, "Follow me, then. John will be pleased to make your acquaintance."
Hamilton~Hamilton~Hamilton
In the Spring of 1825, March 4, Hercules Mulligan died thinking of the friends he'd lost too early.
In the Spring of 1834, May 20, Marquis de Lafayette died wishing he could spend another day with those he met in a tavern before the Revolution.
They somehow both woke up sitting down in the tavern they'd first met Hamilton in.
Lafayette immediately tackled his friend, who had died many years previously.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, there, Laf. Goodness, I've only been gone like ten minutes." Hercules tried to settle him, hugging Lafayette hard.
"Non, you've been gone for eleven years, mon ami," Lafayette replied through his tears.
Hercules startled, "How long have I been in limbo?" he questioned.
"Sorry, Herc. It's difficult to say, but this happens sometimes." called a new voice.
Lafayette and Hercules both snapped up so quickly that they heard cracks in their necks.
There stood John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton, looking just as young as they had when they'd all met for the first time in that New York tavern.
"Mon Dieu!" Lafayette cried, rushing forward and throwing his arms around the pair. Hercules snapped out of his shock and soon came to join the group hug from behind.
"Lafayette! Hercules!" John cried, beginning to cry. "I missed you both so very much."
Lafayette began babbling in broken, sobbing French, telling the pair how much they'd been missed and how often he'd thought of them.
Hercules stayed silent, but his tears were answer enough for how their deaths had affected their guardian figure.
The tears finally dried up as Hamilton began to sing softly, a drunken tune that was as much a comfort as a promise.
"I may not live to see our glory," Alexander sang.
Lafayette and Hercules chuckled softly as they and Laurens echoed the words.
"But I will gladly join the fight," Alex continued, "And when our children tell our story, they'll tell the story of tonight."
"Let's have another round tonight," Hercules murmured.
"Let's have another round tonight," Lafayette echoed.
"Let's have another round tonight," Alexander agreed.
"Raise a glass to freedom," John sang, raising a glass in the hair.
The other three joined in, and when they had finished their drinks, John and Alexander led Hercules and Lafayette to the garden they'd shared for the better part of many years.
Their song echoed around the garden as they completed it, and there in the garden four friends caught up with each other and waited for the final few to join them.
Hamilton~Hamilton~Hamilton
In the fall of 1854, September 9, Eliza Hamilton died.
She was so thankful, she could finally see her loved ones again.
Her vision dulled as she looked up at the ceiling. "I'm coming, my dears." she murmured. Then her heart gave out and she breathed her last. When she came back to awareness, it was to a shaky voice.
She stood from her place sitting in her old home before the fireplace. Eliza turned, looking for the voice.
"Eliza," came the voice again, and Angelica and Peggy materialized in front of her.
"Angelica," Eliza sang, tears coming to her eyes.
"Eliza," Angelica sang back, coming forward to place her hands on Eliza's cheeks.
"And Peggy!" cried Peggy, throwing her arms around Eliza's middle.
The Schuyler sisters laughed as they reunited and sang again together.
Then Angelica stepped back and Peggy let Eliza go.
"There's someone else here who's waited a long time for you." Angelica murmured, kissing Eliza's cheek, then stepping aside.
Eliza gasped as her eyes locked onto her husband.
"Alexander!" she cried, tears pouring down her face once more.
"Eliza." Alexander smiled, catching her in his arms as she came to him.
They pressed kisses to each other's faces, thankful to be reunited.
"Never a day went by I didn't miss you, my dear." Eliza murmured to Alexander.
"Nor I, my love," Alexander replied.
A light glowed about the room and Alexander looked up.
"Come now, Eliza, Angelica, Peggy. John, Hercules, and Lafayette are waiting. It is time we departed." Alexander offered his arm to Angelica, who took it and hooked her other arm around Peggy's and they began off.
They arrive in the garden shortly after, meeting up with Philip (Eliza had latched onto him immediately), Washington, John, Hercules, and Lafayette by the pool.
The glow had followed them there and Alexander stepped away from the Schuylers to stand beside John and Washington. "Is everyone here?"
"Martha, Thomas, and Aaron will meet us in the afterlife, son," Washington replied.
Alexander nodded and turned to John, "Are you ready, John?" he asked.
John smiled and nodded, "Of course, Alexander."
Alexander looked out at the people he loved. "Let's not throw away our shots."
The glow illuminated them all as they rose up into the air; higher and higher until they disappeared into the night.
The glow eclipsed the garden, bathing it in life and when it was gone, the garden stood empty save for the pool.
It rippled and an image appeared.
A man scouring a bookshop, looking for something to read.
He picked up a book and smiled, feeling like he was greeting an old friend.
He took it up to the cash register and set down.
The cashier asked him about it and he smiled, "Just some light reading."