A/N Laf is actually here this time. Sorry for the wait. IMPORTANT TO PLOT: Timeline in this is wayyyy off. Lee vs Laurens duel in mentioned, but Ham hasn't met Eliza yet. Winter's ball hasn't even happened yet. Tons of historical inaccuracies. Trigger warnings include self-hate, mentions of suicide, & time period typical homophobia.
Lafayette's POV
My horse finally came to a stop at the camps entrance. Slowing it down to a slow trot I send a messenger to alert Washington of my arrival. It'll be good to see him and my friends again, it's been awhile. Absentmindedly I get off my horse in deep thought. Of course, Mulligan still on his secret mission, but Hammy and Laurens will still be here. Maybe I could treat them to a round of drinks tonight to catch up. Lost in thought I don't even notice Hamilton approach till I hear him.
"Hey, Laf. Meeting with Washington at 1200." My head spins towards him.
"Monsieur Hamilton!" I run towards him and gather him into a hug. I hear him give a faint chuckle and reluctantly wrap his arms around me.
"I had almost forgotten a hug is your customary greeting for everyone, and I mean everyone." I blush a little at this.
"A man hugs a Major General once and suddenly that his signature greeting"
"It was your first time meeting him and in front of half the Continental Army, so it got around quick." I give a small laugh.
"Either way, it's good to see you." And it is. There are mostly only older Generals with older staffs. Its gets kind of lonely when you're the youngest one in every room.
"Good to see you too." he sounds almost bitter as he says this. I glance over at him, but he's looked away already, so I shrug it off. It's probably been a long day if Washington sent Ham to greet me.
"Long day?" He chuckles darkly again.
"You could say that." His tone is so off from normal that I actually stop and really look at him. Besides the army-typical lack of meat on his bones and purple bag under his eyes, he looks fine.
"Hey. are you alright"
"Ya, I'm fine." He pauses a beat. "I just noticed, you've gotten better at English since I last saw you. You haven't slipped into French on accident once." An obvious subject change if I ever saw one. I sigh.
"I was wondering when you'd notice. I slip up every once in a while, but now English is easy as cake."
"Pie." He corrects, a small smile on his face.
"Same thing." No laugh, no cocky attitude, nothing. What is wrong with you? Lauren's has always been better at reading Alexander, I'll ask him.
"Hey Ham, where's Laurens at? I want to say hi before my meeting with the General." Hamilton stops dead in his tracks, smile gone.
"Alexander?"
"Um, I gotta go, see you later." And just like that, he rushed off. Well that was weird.
It was 1150 when I arrive at Washington's tent. I wanted to arrive early to talk about Alexander, this morning was just too weird.
"Sir?"
"Ah, Lafayette it's good to see you."
"You as well." And, of course, I give him a hug as well.
"You know you're ten minutes early?"
"I do sir, I wanted to ask you something though. It's about Alexander." Washington slumps and looks at me with sad eyes. What the hell happened to Alex?
"Yes?"
"What's wrong with him?" Washington hesitates, as if he doesn't know how to tell me. Impatiently I raise my eyebrows. Taking the hint, he sighs again.
"Laurens died last week." I blink. Out of everything I was expecting to come out of his mouth, that was not it.
"Merde" I breathed out. (shit) Absentmindedly I sink into a chair, legs unable to support me. Laurens is gone? It's weird to say, even in my mind, for he was always so lively and full of spirit. It's hard to imagine him dead, but so easy at the same time. John was passionate about the revolution, always ready to die for his country.
"How?" It's all I can get out, not in a space to form full sentences.
"Technically by his own hand but-" My head snaps up.
"He what!"
"Calm down!" Washington barks. Then in a softer tone he continues, "Let me finish. John was captured by British soldiers who told him to assassinate me. Knowing he would never do this, the Redcoats were tailing Hamilton and threatened to shoot him if he didn't. Once inside the tent, he almost came to the conclusion that he would 'miss' but then Alexander came in. Knowing he had less time now that Hamilton's tail was watching he shot himself. This way, a gun went off and a body dropped, it just wasn't mine. I guess he also figured they'd be less likely to shoot Hamilton if he wasn't useful as leverage anymore."
"Merde" I breathed out again. Of course Alexander had to watch, he seems to have the worst luck.
"Lafayette." I jump, lost in thought.
"Sir?"
"If you need a minute, I can reschedule the meeting-" I plaster the best smile on my face that I can. Grieve later.
"I'm fine sir." He gave me a skeptical look, so my fake smile widens.
"Ok, but I'll try to keep this short." It was only when he turned away did I allow myself to frown again.
Hamilton's POV
Dammit Marie-Joseph way to many fucking name Lafayette. I marched back to my tent, not letting my emotions show on my face. He didn't know, and it was so nice to pretend, even for just a second, that he wasn't really gone. I push open the flap and slam myself down onto the cot. His cot. I wipe angrily at my face, pushing away the few tears that slipped out. Keep it together Hamilton. I'm better than this. The mere mention of Laurens shouldn't send me into tears. Sighing, I dry my face and march out of my tent and back to the aide-de-camp tent. Without looking at anyone, I enter, sit at my desk, and get back to work. It's a nice distraction, I tell myself. I don't even think about him, I tell myself. So why won't the pain go away? Why don't I believe myself?
It isn't until later, when I've just returned from work, does Lafayette come to my tent. He silently slips in, a nod in my direction, and seats himself. He looks at me for a minute, and I stare right back. There's only a small sign of pity on his face, most of it is understanding. Obviously he gets it Hamilton, he lost a friend too… but they were only friends... I break the eye contact and look down. That's when I spot the bottle in his hand. Thank god.
"Good. I don't think I would be able to have this conversation sober." A faint laugh escapes him.
"Me neither." At these words he simply pops the cap, takes a swig, and hands it off to me.
"Figured we didn't need glasses." I respond my taking an extra long sip.
Lafayette's POV
I was sloshed. In my defense, Alex was worse, but the statement still stands. At least I'll remember tonight in the morning. I came into his tent an hour ago and we quickly got drunk. Drinking to the death of our friend John, or more like drinking to forget the death of John. Alex was collapsed of his cot, almost passed out, when he finally approached the subject.
"Laf why does it hurt so bad." He slurred.
"What?"
"My chest. All the time hurts now. It's like-it's like my heart is gone." In my drunken state, this doesn't really make much sense.
"Is it?"
"No… but it feels like it."
"It's cause you loveeedddd himmmm Alexandre." He giggles.
"I loved him way too much, apparently." I'm too drunk for this conversation.
"Impossible."
"I sinned laf, siiiinnnnnnned." He can't be implying…
"No you didn't."
"Uh huh. I sinnnned so much with him that he had to shoot himself. Did you know that it was my fault?" He's crying now, not hard, but enough. Never pegged him as a sad drunk. "He shot himself cause I'm stuuupid and don't know when I being followed."
"Not your fault mon ami."
"Ya it tis, I kill a lot of people. Like my mum and my cousin… John should have shot me." When I get sober again...
"Alex, don't say that."
"You're right, cause then he'd be sad, but he don't deserve that."
"It's s'not you or John's fault, it's the Redcoat spies's."
"Ask Wash, he knows it was all meeee." Why did I think intoxication was a good idea?
"Ok, got to bed Ham. we'll ask him in the morning." We'll be talking in the morning.
"Ok." He mumbles, and quickly we fall asleep.
Alexander's POV (Read A/N for this next part to make sense.)
Alcohol makes falling asleep easier. I muse as I slip out of consciousness. Laf's quiet goodnight is the last thing I hear before I'm sucked away from the land of the living into my dreams.
I stomp out of Washington's tent, fuming. In my anger, I don't even realise where I'm going until I run right into Laurens.
"Sorr- oh hi John!"
"Jesus Christ Alex, what's got you so angry."
"Fucking Charles Lee ! Washington won't let me challenge him to a duel, so he's just strutting around camp saying whatever the hell he wants and-" John grabs me by my shoulders.
"Alex, breath." I start to. "I'll do it." And then I choke on my breath. Laughing, Laurens pats my back twice as I cough.
"You'll do it?" I ask incredulously, and kind of nervously. Risking my life is one thing, but John's….
"Sure, he never said I couldn't." He smiles at me, and my knees go weak.
The dream shifts, suddenly we're in my tent, night before the duel.
John and I were laying on our cot, like usual, but there was tension in the air. Tension that's been gone since our first night. Uncertainty.
"The duel is tomorrow."
"Yep." We make eye contact, similar thoughts racing through our brains.
"Make sure you hit him first."
"Alex-"
"Don't get shot, cheat if you have to, just don't-"
"Alexander, I'll be fine." I shiver at the way he says my name.
"Don't throw away your shot." He smiles and nuzzles into my chest.
"Wouldn't dream of it." He murmurs. I kiss the top his head, and we fall asleep like that. Comfy, cozy. Content.
The dream shifts again. Now we're at the dueling grounds, but something feels off.
"9-10, FIRE!" I glance towards Lee, expecting to see him getting shot, but he's not. Suddenly, Charles's image shimmers and becomes John. Confused, I look back to where John was, but that turned into me aiming at John. Dream me fires and hits my John in the head, blowing his brains out. I rush over to his fallen form, which looks eerily similar to the one last week. He's not dead tjough.
"Your fault, Alex. Why'd you have to shoot me?" Tears are dripping down my face.
"I didn't want you to die! I promise I love-"
"If you loved me you would've fought harder."
"John I-"
"If you loved me you wouldn't of killed me."
"But I… " Laurens dies in my arms, again, but different. Unexpectedly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and myself, dream me, is standing there.
"Nothing but a bastard and you'll never be anything more."
"That's not true!" But we both know I don't believe myself. I never do.
This chapter almost felt like a filler chapter. Did it sound choppy to anyone else, or is that just me over reading my own work? Note: I don't really know where I'm going with this story, but it'll probably end with him finally moving on and maybe I'll add an epilogue. Or I'll brutal and have a really sad ending, not sure. Stay tuned.