If he hadn't, Burr would have won.
Burr knows this-feels this in his bones. That if Hamilton had kept that damned, beautiful, ridiculous, loud mouth of his shut-if he hadn't said anything-anything at all-
-said that-
"When all is said and all is done-"
It feels like a million years of something has be unutterably lost. Between them. What they might have shared, once. Long ago. Those sparkling eyes of his, once so full of naïveté and damned joy and hope in his every movement. Sharp and loose, too full of everything-ness-a stark contrast between the controlled veneer of Burr's own smoothness. He hadn't yet learned. Hadn't learned what Burr had tried to impress upon him-
"Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead..."
He never could keep that damned mouth of his shut-
"You're an orphan? I'm an orphan-God, I wish there was a war, so we could prove that we're worth more than anyone bargained for!"
-despite everything Burr had said.
And still Hamilton had persevered. Managed to claw his way from a mere foot soldier to President Washington's second-in-command, to a cabinet member-treasury secretary, no less-
Something has changed. Irretrievably so. The Hamilton he once knew is long gone, replaced by the saddened, pitiful, angry creature he's now become. The Hamilton that Burr knew from those long nights sitting tentside on the battlefield between spats, awaiting the dawn, firelight crackling before them with motes of pure light climbing ever upwards...
Hamilton looking at him curiously on his wedding night-quizzically. "I will never understand you-"
Like he wanted to understand him. To really try to know the cold enigma that was Aaron Burr.
Even though he had those fools at his side-Laurens, Mulligan, that dandified Lafayette-
-it was as if Alex-he bites his lip to stop himself thinking the name-
-wanted him too.
"I don't understand how you stand to the side!"
In his own way, Burr supposes, Hamilton tried. Tried to get him to be more like him. Come to him in the middle of the nigh, much-needed sleep clinging to his eyes, wheedling and cajoling and practically begging for his help-
-that was how it had been between them. Hamilton reaching out, and Burr demurring. Pulling away.
Until now.
Burr digs his rounded nails into his palm, and is surprised at how much it hurts.
"-Jefferson has beliefs. Burr has none."