Chapter 3
Wow guys! Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! This is probably my most popular fanfic I've ever written!
Anyways, enjoy the 3rd and final installment!
George Washington was beyond worried. The ride back to camp, Alexander kept switching back and forth between muttering deliriously about Eliza and his son and how Washington would save him, to screaming in agony begging and pleading for the intense pain to end. French words kept coming through in both instances, making it even more unintelligible. Washington was going as fast as he could, but Hamilton was fading faster.
They finally burst into camp, and Washington quickly dismounted and ran Alex to the medical tent. The medic paled, then got to work cleaning Alex's wound. Washington began pacing, knowing he wouldn't be able to work on anything until Alex's condition stabilized. Alex drifted into unconsciousness. The sudden silence after the endless flow of words was ominous.
"Your Excellency, sir?" The medic asked hesitantly. Washington immediately froze, whirling towards the Doctor.
"Officer Hamilton's wound, thankfully, wasn't infected. I've managed to clean and bandage it, and it should heal as nicely as General Lee's."
"Do you know when he'll wake up?" Washington questioned, internally sighing in relief.
"Unfortunately, He's slipped into a deep coma. I'm not sure if he'll ever awaken. But Mr. Hamilton is notorious for defying all attempts on his life. There is a strong chance he'll come around."
Washington choked on his relieved sigh. Coma? Before he could continue his thought process, The rest of the Hamilsquad entered the Medical Tent. Hercules Mulligan placed a now unconscious John Laurens on the cot next to Alexander. The medic rushed over and began cleaning Laurens' bayonet wound. Lafayette sat down in a chair next to his unconscious friends. Washington headed back to his tent for a drink, while the doctor told everyone what was happening. Herc sank down into a chair next to Lafayette, worried out his mind about his friends.
Alex felt like he was drowning; darkness encompassed him, he couldn't feel his body, and he couldn't tell which way was up. He couldn't think clearly enough to determine how long he'd hung weightless and alone in the dark. He was vaguely aware of pain, of someone crying, and familiar presences all around him. His brilliant mind spun, trying to find a way back to… to what? His mind was too foggy. He couldn't think of who or what was tying him to the world. He thought harder, desperate for a lifeline, and suddenly a flash of blue darted across his thoughts, accompanied by a quiet, feminine laugh and a warm touch. A woman was calling to him, singing quietly, begging him to stay alive. Alex felt as though he should know, should Remember.
"Let me be a part of the narrative, of the story they will write someday," the girl in blue was murmuring as she rubbed his back. "And if this child bears a fraction of your smile or a fragment of your mind, look out world, that would be enough."
Hamilton desperately clung to this memory. He had to rise up out of the deep water he'd found himself drowning in. Rise up for his child, for his...
"ELIZA!" Alex woke yelling. His eyes focused on his three best friends as their heads snapped up at the unexpected outburst.
"ALEX EST VIVANT! Il vit qu'il vit qu'il vit!" Lafayette screamed joyfully, so loud Washington heard it from his office. He wiped a few tears away as he bounced around the room excitedly, which did not go unnoticed by the rest of the squad.
"Hamilton, thank goodness!" Laurens said, choking up. When Laf and Herc had informed him of Alex's condition, he had feared for his best friend, while still in immense pain from his own injuries. But that had been 3 days ago.
"How long was I out?" Alex asked, a little hesitantly. He almost didn't want to know the answer.
"Five days," came the booming reply. Alex turned his head to see Washington standing in the doorway. Hamilton's brown eyes widened in shock.
"You gave us quite a scare Alexander," Hercules said. Alex realized that he'd been crying too. He'd made all three of his best friends cry. Nice going, he thought angrily at himself.
"I'm sorry," Alex mumbled sheepishly, but everyone heard.
"Alexander Hamilton!" Washington spluttered indignantly. "Sorry for what? Being Heroic? Saving Hercules? Coming back to help the war effort even though I sent you home?"
"Do you have a death wish or something?" Herc asked jokingly.
"It's not that he has a death wish, it's that he no longer believes he can die!" Laurens laughed.
"I just can't seem to die, can I?" Alex asked with an amused gleam in his eyes.
He tried to stand, his half healed wound flaring painfully. His friends tried to stop him, but it was no use. He moved stiffly into a standing position, then took a few shaky steps toward the door. Surprisingly, he made it, stumbling only on the last step. Washington caught him, and two sets of eyes met.
"I'd like to talk to you in private, son."
Alexander huffed, "I'm notcha son," but allowed The General to lead him back to his tent. When they arrived, Washington had Alex sit in one of the chairs, then took a deep breath.
"I was younger than you are now when I was given my first command. I led my men straight into a massacre and witnessed their deaths first hand." Washington was visibly trying not to cry as Alex tried to comprehend what had happened.
"I made every mistake and felt the shame rise in me. And even now I lie awake knowing history has its eyes on me."
Washington looked pointedly at Hamilton at this, and Alex gasped.
"History has its eyes on me," he murmured in realization. The older man nodded. He went behind his desk and took out a sword.
"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known when I was young and dreamed of glory; you have no control who lives who dies who tells your story." he handed the sword to Alex, who accepted it in a state of shocked silence.
"I know that we can win," Washington said, his hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. "I know that greatness lies in you. Just remember from here on in, History has its eyes on you."
The General smiled down at the man he still thought of as a son, and dismissed him to confer with his men. Alexander left the tent head spinning, but knew that he'd fight harder than ever, and he'd win.
The end.
Well there you have it folks! This was a lot of fun to write, and lots of people have read it! I'm considering writing another story based on this one, kind of an alternate with more pain. So be on the lookout for that! If you liked this story, check out some of my others. I have a Voltron; Legendary Defender one, a couple young justice ones, and a Voltron/Percy Jackson crossover. Stay awesome guys!
French Translations
ALEX IS ALIVE! HE LIVES HE LIVES HE LIVES!
RN