(HI GUYS, REN HERE, SLYTH IS OUT SO FINALLY I CAN TAKE OVER MWAHAHAHAHAA! Anyway, Slyth wrote this last night, she was in her feels and it's so sad so I hope it makes you guys cry :) Don't tell her I said that, she'll ban me forever. Anyway, review this for Slyth you understand me! OR I'LL EAT YOUR FINGERS! Oh, and we don't own Hamilton, though I think Slyth is obsessed, she needs help. OKAY IM GOING SHE'S COMING BACK, BYE)

Aaron Burr prided himself on being an even-tempered man, unlike his old friend now enemy Alexander Hamilton.

But right now Burr was borderline pissed off, and that had not happened since he was back in his 20s. Pacing his room, a dark glare on his face as he turned around, shouting to the air.

"Damn you Alexander! You bastard, whoreson! How dare you!" With a snarl he kicked over the chair that sat by his bedside. "You would endorse Jefferson, a man that you cannot even stand, over me!" Turning around his eyes cast a glance at his guns that he kept on display on his fire place mantle. His hand curling into a fist, he stormed out of the house, grabbing his coat as he went.

He was going to find Hamilton, and Hamilton was going to explain himself.

It was 5 in the evening when a harsh banging on his front door brought a frown to Alexander's face. He put down his quill and rose to his feet, the silence of the house his only company. Eliza was out at the park with the children, and as Alexander walked to the door, he wondered who it could be. Opening the door, his eyebrows crease and raised as he looked at the obviously angered man.

"Vice President Burr, sir. Is there a reason that brings you to my door, sir?"

"Cut the pleasantries Alexander. I'm immoral am I? A dangerous disgrace? If you've got something to say to me Alexander, name a time and place." Unlike Burr, Alexander was extremely quick to anger, something that bothered him to the ends of the Earth. His temper was shorter than the time it took gunpowder to ignite once a flame was put to it, so it was no reason that the tips of his ears turned red.

"Excuse me Burr, but I do have something to say and I will say it right now. It is not my fault that the people don't like you, you did that to no one but yourself. You have no concrete stance, and I would not allow that type of man to become the President of this nation when my 6 young children depend on the fate of it! You know damn well that I have always worn my opinion on my sleeve, but now because it offends you, you have a problem with it?" The nerve of this arrogant man! Coming to Alexander's home, starting problems with him! And he wondered why Alexander did not select him and would rather put up with that idiot Jefferson.

Burr got so close to Alexander that he could practically read the thoughts flying through the coffee brown eyes, he was able to taste the breath that came through Alexander's parted lips and he was suddenly reminded that this man used to be his lover, once upon a time. The memories that rose up in him almost made him turn around and walk away, but his pride would not let him. He ruthlessly shoved down the memories of a broken Hamilton appearing on his door step after losing his first lover, pushed away the memories of just the two of them alone in the setting summer sun, shoved away every feeling they have ever shared before the war and after it. He almost didn't realize it was his own voice was talking, the cold words sending shivers down his spine.

"Careful how you proceed Alexander. That pride of yours will be the death of you, I assure you that." He watched Alexander's eyes narrow and darken to the point that they were nearly black, and he knew then that he was standing on the borderline between Alexander's fury and his rage. Whatever move Burr made now would change everything.

"Is that a threat President? Because if an apology is what you are hoping for, you are not getting one." They were practically standing toe to toe now, and despite Burr being taller than Alexander by several inches, Burr had never felt smaller.

"Then stand Alexander. Weehawken. Dawn. Guns drawn." The words left his lips before he could stop them, and Alexander gave a firm nod before looking over Burr's shoulder. His hands curled into a fist and Burr turned his head slightly, to see Eliza walking down the street, 6 children running around her and tugging on her clothes.

"I'll see you there then, sir." The sir part was mocking, and Burr felt his lips turn into a scowl, but he inclined his head, and turned around striding away from the house.

"Who was that, Alexander?" Eliza came up to him and Alexander felt a smile crossing his face. His sweet, darling Eliza.

"No one important, just someone from work." He felt hands tugging on his trousers and he looked down to see his 5 year old daughter Elizabeth holding her hands up to him.

"Papa, I have so much to tell you!" He crouched down slightly and scooped her up into his arms, unaware that it was the last time he would ever hold his darling child like that again.

"Oh really? Why don't we go inside and you tell me?" Elizabeth nodded and quickly began babbling about what she had seen before they had even made it inside the door, none of them knowing that it was the last time the Hamilton family would ever be together like this, none of them feeling the foreboding feeling in the air.

The next morning, Alexander found himself up at 5 in the morning, hunched over his desk scribbling down a letter, just in case something went wrong. Just in case he didn't come home. He had no doubt that he would, after all, despite him being an arrogant idiot, Burr was a man of honor. He wouldn't pull the trigger on someone who was aiming at the sky, and that is exactly what Alexander intended to do.

"Alexander, come back to bed." He paused slightly, turning towards his wife with a small smile on his lips. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair away, whispering softly

"I have a meeting to attend to. I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone." Eliza frowned, but knew not to argue with him on this so she just nodded slightly.

"See that you are." Alexander chuckled softly, pulling the blankets back over her so that she would stay warm, it was rather cold, despite the fact that it was summer. Turning back to the letter, he read it over one more time before signing it with a flourish:

My dear Eliza,

If you discover this letter, then horror has befallen our family and for that I am sorry. If you are reading this, know that I will fight until my final breath for you, and whilst you may hate me for this act, it was absolutely necessary. I will not let Burr destroy my legacy as it is the only gift I have left to give to our family, to you, to our children. I have went to Weehawken in order to duel Burr as a result of a grievance he has thought I have committed, and the time for peace talks is past. I would not leave you of my own free will, but my conscience cannot let this slide. I made a promise a long time ago that I would not through away my shot, and this is my promise to you Eliza, I will not throw it away. God, this letter sounds formal, but my love, you will not have to read it, if anything this is for my own sound mind. I am truly, most truly sorry for hurting you. I have not been the best husband or father by a long shot, and I am sorry that I never tried to change it. If I'm really gone, do not fret or cry for me, my queen. My love take your time. I'll see you on the other side.

-Alexander Hamilton

He stared at the letter with slightly shaking hands and folded it, his confidence from earlier draining slightly. Walking downstairs quietly, he put the note on the kitchen table and prayed that none of the children came down for a glass of water. Grabbing his coat, he cast his last glance around the house that had been his life for the past 20 odd years. He smiled at the memories that this house brought back to him, and turned on his heel walking out for the last time.

45 minutes later, he was standing in Weehawken, New Jersey. In front of him stood Aaron Burr, his second William Van Ness standing about 50 feet behind him. Behind Alexander, he knew Nathaniel stood about the same distance, and the doctor was 66 feet to the east of both Burr and Hamilton, his back turned so he could have deniability. Something nagged at Hamilton's brain, and he faintly heard numbers being counted in his head in French, as well as something about a poet.

My name is Philip, I am a poet...Une, deux, trois-

Dear God, he suddenly remembered now. Philip had dueled in Weehawken, perhaps in this very same spot. Suddenly Alexander felt very ill, and he swallowed slightly, adjusting the glasses that he had put on out of a whim. Suddenly the gun felt very heavy in his hands, and he fiddled with the gun, praying that it was just his imagination, because suddenly out of the corner of his eye he saw his oldest son standing there, a look of elation and pride on his face. He smelt salt, sweat, and dirt, as if his old lover Laurens was near. He felt the warm breeze of his native island, a place he had never forgotten even if he didn't mention it often.

And suddenly Alexander was scared.

He wasn't scared of his death, no, never that. Rather, he was scared of what was going to happen after. He knew he wasn't the best man, not by a long shot.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed all of his fears away and his eyes gained a determined glint as they continued to count.

7. He knew Burr didn't have the best shot, but hopefully no shots would be exchanged. Alexander's arm twitched slightly and he let out a soft sigh. He couldn't help but wish for once in his life that he would not have let his pride away, but then he immediately disregarded that thought. He would prove that he was worthy of the name Alexander Hamilton, he would not let his family down.

8. He watched Van-Ness and Nathaniel converse, Nathaniel looking as if he were pleading while Van-Ness shook his head, his facial expression blank, his arms folded across his chest. They both turned around and walked back to their perspective sides, Nathaniel passing Alexander and murmuring in his ear

"It continues." Alexander nodded and once again adjusted his glasses, his eyes narrowing as they did when he was going into battle and he straightened up, his loose muscles snapping taut, his whole body tensing as if held on a string.

His eyes came into contact with Burr's as he smoothly looked him in the eye, summoning up all the courage that he could possibly need, his breath coming quicker, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest-

And then the number 10 was shouted and Alexander's arm snapped up as he fired one single shot into the air, hearing a simultaneous shot. His eyes widened slightly, coming into contact with Burr's once more.

Time slowed, he could hear the bullet ripping through the air and his legs tensed as he tried to run, but he couldn't move he was frozen in place. A look of shock flitted across Burr-no, Aaron's face and the lips that once teased Alexander to the brink of insanity started to move but it was too late.

"WAIT!" The word ripped through the air like a bullet, but by then Alexander's body was already curving in a beautiful arch, the force of the bullet sending him flying backwards, his gun flying out of his hand and his glasses flying off of his face. He inhaled sharply as he fell, dark brown hair flying up in front of his face, his eyes coming in contact with the grey sky, and his body came in contact with the hard, unforgiving ground.

An agonized scream ripped through the air, and Alex was confused. Who screamed? Was it him, or was it Burr who was struggling to rush forward, Van-Ness holding him back.

"-Xander, Alexander stay awake!" That was Nathaniel, shaking him roughly, but he was tired. He was so tired.

"Eliza." The one word escaped his lips and he let out a choked sob, harsh coughs racking his body and blood streamed down the side of his chin and leeched through his clothes. His hazy eyes stared forward, and he looked over, a small smile crossing his face.

"Come on Alexander, it's time to go home." The deep voice washed over Alexander like a comfort, and he inhaled deeply, smelling salt, sweat, and dirt.

"John, I'm scared." The taller man smiled and held out his hand, his velvety voice speaking once more.

"It's okay Alex. Your mother and Philip desperately want to see you. And I'd avoid Washington if I were you, he seems to think you had learned your lesson about dueling." Alex let out a soft laugh, and immediately put his hand to his chest, expecting the searing pain to come back. Laurens looked him over with concern, one of his hands coming up to caress Alexander's face.

"Mi amour, you are free from hurt or pain here. I promise you, I won't leave you here." Distantly, Alexander thought he heard a women crying, but instead he shook his head, clearing the voices away.

"Raise a glass to freedom." Laurens smiled and a shout stopped them from anything they were about to do.

"Pa!" Alexander turned around, seeing his mother and Philip side by side. He allowed his lover to drag him forward, not knowing that Eliza and Angelica were on each of his sides, holding his hand. Not knowing that his children were gathered outside of the door, wondering why their father wouldn't wake up. Not knowing that as the clock struck 2 pm, his soul fully left his body.

All he knew was that he was finally free, and he would raise a glass to that.