A/N: next chapter! Completely unrelated, but I'm going to see Miss Saigon tomorrow (today? Friday) And I'm so excited! Hope you like this!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hamilton

Two gunshots exploded into the silent dawn, a shock even to the men who were accustomed to battle: it was never personal then. Now it was a man Hamilton cared about with every inch of his body holding a smoking gun while his opponent laid on the cold ground.

Time seemed to slow down. Laurens had a look of cold detachment in his eyes - Hamilton knew him well enough to realize he couldn't truly engage with the shooting of another person, or the guilt would consume him. Charles Lee was still and silent.

Suddenly, a loud groan came from the body on the floor, and he began to push himself into a sitting position. Burr, Laurens, and Hamilton breathed a sigh of relief in unison. Both of the seconds started towards the men they were accompanying.

"Lee, do you yield?" Hamilton called, coming to stand beside Laurens. The tension in the air had the same affect as having cold water thrown over you - all thoughts of love were, for the time being, chased away.

"You shot him in the side," Burr replied, outrage in his voice as he checked the other man's wound. Lee began to protest, but Burr quickly silenced him by saying, "yes, he yields."

Laurens nodded, his face regaining some kind of emotion as he responded, "we've got to get back to base before Washington misses us."

"Too late for that!" A loud voice boomed across the vast expanse of empty land as Washington approached on horseback; their shared concerns for Charles Lee had distracted all the men sufficiently to be oblivious to the sound of hooves coming closer. He halted the animal and jumped off, immediately going to Lee. He quickly saw the wound wasn't life threatening, and immediately his look of worry was replaced with one of anger as he glared venomously at Laurens and Hamilton.

"Burr, get a medic for the General. Jesus, don't you know you're meant to have one here already?"

"Yes sir, he went for a walk so he could have deniability. I'll fetch him, sir." Burr rushed away.

Washington turned to the bleeding Lee, explaining, "I had no idea these fools were planning this. Hamilton initiated the duel, I presume?"

"It was me, sir. I was annoyed at how he disrespected you," Laurens defended his best friend, standing up even straighter as he contradicted Washington.

"Laurens... Well, I'm sure I could guess your real motives," Washington murmured, his face was a storm. "Nevertheless," he continued to Lee, "I apologise profusely. Thank you for your service."

Burr and the doctor arrived, the two men supporting the fallen General as they helped him mount a horse. Burr looked to Washington for permission to leave, and at his nod Burr, too, boarded the creature and galloped away, the doctor following on his own horse.

Washington just glowered at the remaining men. Then, wordless, he climbed back onto his animal and sped away, leaving the teens to follow like naughty schoolboys.

Washington was known for his grace in the face of conflict and disagreement. He had a reputation for being calm and collected in all situations. But when he really got angry, he was ruthless.

"What were you thinking, son?"

"Three things: I'm not your son, it wasn't me who did it and it wasn't my idea!"

"And you couldn't use your way with words to put an end to the duel? You thought it was a good idea to just let Laurens shoot one of our own men half to death?" The General could be so patronizing.

Hamilton rolled his eyes as he huffed, "Lee isn't one of our men. He lost the right to that title the moment he disrespected you. He's a humiliation!"

"You're a humiliation! I can handle one General disrespecting me, but how does it look when I can't even stop my Aide de camp from fighting people?"

"For the hundredth time, it wasn't me!"

"I know, I know, it was Laurens. But you're joined at the hip, you're practically one body!"

Hamilton had to physical bite his tongue to avoid defending his and Laurens' close relationship too fiercely, because he knew if he did it would raise suspicions. And from what the old man had said about "ulterior motives", he was already suspicious as it was. He knew arguing with Washington could only make him more furious. Instead he should use the other man's current disgust at him to his advantage:

"You could send me into the field. Then you wouldn't have to worry about me."

The man closed his eyes, visibly struggling to compose himself. When they opened again, he was the picture of calmness you would expect from a man like him. But Hamilton knew that in the eye of a deadly hurricane, there is a moment of quiet.

"I can't send you into the field. You've just shown how reckless you are without even working with ammunition every day. I can't possibly send you into battle because I don't trust that you'd come back."

"Sir, please -"

"No, son. You need to go home... Away from this war... And away from Laurens. Remind yourself of the fact that you have a wife who needs you."

He knew something. He had to, there was too much feeling in those words for him not to know something about how Hamilton felt.

Hamilton nodded defeatedly, a twinge of guilt in his chest as he remembered Eliza's dark, enchanting eyes. And here he was, falling for his best friend. He turned and started towards the door.

"Send in Laurens. If you think I've been harsh with you, he's in line for even more of a punishment," Washington called, halting his Aide.

Frozen, Hamilton slowly replied, "My punishment is being sent home. What's his, if it's worse than that?"

He turned to see Washington staring at the ground. Surely that meant only one thing.

"You can't fire him, sir."

"Hamilton, you're dismissed."

"Sir, please, I beg you to reconsider" he begged, taking a step towards Washington.

The General sighed. "Send him in, Hamilton. I'll do what I think is right."

The dismissive tone to his voice left no opportunity to argue. Hamilton retreated to the hallway, where Laurens stood, leading against a wall.

"Alexander!" He exclaimed, smiling despite the perilous situation they found themselves in, too pleased to see the other man. "How did it go?"

"I've been sent home temporarily. He wants to send you away permanently. I asked him to reconsider but..." Hamilton replied, voice cold as the words left unspoken sent a chill down Laurens' spine.

His smile vanished. "I don't understand... why?" Genuine confusion clouded his eyes.

Hamilton finally snapped. After fighting to control his temper around Washington, he couldn't hold it in any more. He rushed at Laurens and grabbed his collar, pinning him to the wall as he hissed, "Because you're reckless and stupid, and insisted on risking two lives for no good reason!"

Laurens bit his lip. If anyone else had done this, it would have scared him. But not his Hamilton. In spite of the burning fury in his eyes, all Laurens cared about was just how close their bodies were, and just how heavily he could feel Alexander's heart beating as the other man used his body to secure him in the fixed position.

"No good reason? You know that's not true, Alex. You know why I did it."

Hamilton looked away, suddenly aware of their proximity and his own heavy, ragged breathing.

His smirk growing, Laurens murmured, "You know the unalterable affection I have for you. It's all for you, everything."

Hamilton closed his eyes, his mind swimming with a flame of desire which spread through his body, turning into a blaze which felt like it was taking over. He forced himself to meet Laurens' lust-filled gaze, his own face displaying a mix of fear, guilt and longing.

Laurens reached for Hamilton's face, bringing it even closer to his. The other man assumed he would kiss him, and was ready to give in. But Laurens stopped just a breath away, so that their lips were almost touching, and whispered, "Look at us now. What comes next?"

Hamilton hesitated as all the possibilities flew through his mind, snapshots of a million different scenes of himself and Laurens, each lasting barely long enough for him to grasp at it before it vanished and another replaced it.

But approaching footsteps from around the corner interrupted the moment, and Hamilton immediately released Laurens. They separated just as a young man entered the hall.

"Mr Hamilton, Washington had me pack your things. They're waiting for you with a horse outside," he explained. "The General said he wanted you to leave as soon as possible." Then he dismissed himself, leaving the young men alone.

"I should..."

"You should be getting back home. And I should be pleading not to get fired," Laurens finished.

Neither men could meet each other's eyes. Finally Hamilton murmured, "I'm sorry, John."

"Don't be," Laurens replied, his easy smile a comfort to his best friend. The moment they had just shared wouldn't jeopardize the bond of friendship between them. "I get it."

And he did. But he couldn't extinguish the flame of hope inside him when he knew Hamilton felt the same as he did, married or not.

"Good luck with Washington," Hamilton said.

"I'll be fine," Laurens assured, "now get out of here."

Hamilton nodded and started to walk away. But before he reached the end of the hall he rushed back to Laurens and embraced him tightly, trying to form a clear image of the man he loved, what he smelled like, what he felt like, how he sounded when he was silent. After all, who knew when they would meet again?

"I'll see you soon," he promised.

"I know."