Alexander Hamilton had always known he was going to do great things or die trying. Still, he didn't expect to get plays made in his name. Or to be kidnapped by a mad witch from the future and made to watch said play with no chance of escape. Yet, there he was. (DISCONTINUED)

Washington's hand barely ghosted over the bandaged wound in Lafayette's hip, but Lafayette whimpered in pain. Washington quickly moved his hand, and retuned to pressing a wet cloth to Lafayette's to hot forehead. "On fire…" Lafayette whimpered, his breathing becoming quicker.

Suddenly Lafayette grabbed Washington by the jacket, "I'm sorry…I…I can't…it's my fault…I'm sorry, but it's ov- it's over…n-now. I-I'm so s-sorry, g-good-goodbye." Lafayette's terrified eyes stayed locked with Washington's for another second, and then he went slack, his eyes rolling back in his head and his breathing stopping.

It suddenly seemed like the darkness around him was closing in, it was hard to breathe. He sat up with a whimper, there was a blanket wrapped around him, but Lafayette was freezing. He tried to move his injured hand but sucked in a breath and yelped as the pain returned twice as bad as the moment before. Lafayette fell to the side and curled up on himself, squeezing his eyes shut.