Hamilton Oneshots

Fight, but angstier // Leerens

"Goddamnit Charles, go cry to your mommy and daddy instead," John said. Charles' breath caught as he glanced up. He was not going to cry.

"My mother is dead, you know that," Charles said, taking a few shakey breaths.

"Then go to your daddy, I'm sure he'll protect you," John taunted. Charles wasn't sure what overcame him, but his arms flew over his head, prepared for a smack. To be told that his mother's death was his fault. To be left crying in the bathroom for hours on end. Nevermind, he knew exactly what it was.

He was going to cry. He mustered the strength to stand up and run away. No one should see it, he would be embarrassed, mocked, ridiculed, for something so natural.

Perhaps now he would be mocked for running away.

"Coward-Lee lion," John taunted from across the hall. Charles froze for a second. He contemplated on walking back and just do something about the taunts and laughs from his classmates. Instead he walked off, out of the school. He stepped out into the street without bothering to check. Someone grabbed his shoulder, making him stumble back as a car zoomed through the crosswalk.

"Goddamn, I know you're a dumbass and all, but even children know to check," John said behind him. Charles wiggled free and took a stuttered breath.

"Fuck off, I'm perfectly content with being run over right now," Charles said. He looked at the street, seeing more cars speeding down. He was about to take another step when John held him back.

"You can't be serious, you can't just put that on someone's conscious. The driver would think they're a bad person because they couldn't stop in time. People would have to panic call the hospital because you're crushed up and bleeding. Worse comes to worst, people are at you're funeral wondering how they could've done you better. Aren't you worried for the people who care?" John asked.

"People who fucking care? Tell me who. Right now. Tell me one damned person on the face of this planet cares about who I am. Alexander Shit-ilton has the whole school turned against me. My mother's dead, as you fucking know. My father's lord knows where by now. And my one friend doesn't give more than a flying fuck towards me. So who the hell cares?" Charles asked. His face was red and tears streamed their way down his face.

"Sometimes you're not really annoying. And sometimes it feels like some people need to be approved in the eyes of other people, like Alexander... Maybe I care about you, maybe I've always given a flying fuck, but the ones for Alexander seemed bigger," John said. Charles was frozen, his face had the drying streams of tears, some in his eyes were threatening to refill the spaces.

"If you gave a fuck, then you wouldn't say any of the shit you have. I can't exactly say I forgive you if I'm still hurt by what you've said. John, I'm fucking terrified of you, and unfortunately, there's nothing you can attempt to do to fix that, or to change how I feel. I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. You've done this to yourself," Charles said, crossing the street without the looming feeling of a car hitting him. John stared, speechless. Nothing he could do. He sat on the curb, his legs completely sprawled out into the road. He couldn't believe that even after all he's put Charles through, Charles had the guts to call him his friend. Granted, Charles didn't want to be anywhere close to John, but he still never hung out with anyone since the first full intent insult John had thrown at him.

John always wished for eventual forgiveness, he knew Charles hated grudges, but he had hurt Charles. It was evident, clear as day. But, there was always the small hope that one day, as adults, they would laugh at the moments in high school they had, good or bad. He thought of how Charles attempted to protect himself at thr mere mention of his father. That was something new. For Alexander, he tried to hit sensitive areas. Alexander wanted a fight, something he could give to the principal so Charles could be expelled. John never learned his motive, but Alexander was popular, so he never asked any questions when he was asked to backstab his best friend. John remembered the nights where Charles called him while sobbing over something that had happen in the day. Now, John used those moments to Alexander's gain. He couldn't say it was to his gain because he never really gained more than what he had lost. It felt like he was bound between two wobbly rocks, one with Charles and one with Alexander. Alexander seemed to have told him his rock was more steady, able to hold him better. Charles gave him the truth, both rocks were wobbly, but as long as they kept their weight distributed, they'd be fine. Now, Charles was trying to stabilize on his own while Alexander had made John try to tip his rock over.

John looked up, seeing Charles on the otherside, poking a leaf with a rock. Charles had some ill intent at the leaf as he hit it harshly with the rock and threw both into the road. He glanced up at John looking at him with a small, hopeful smile. Charles scowled and got up to leave.

Call John a hopeless best friend, but he realized his chance to apologize, or at least get on a positive note with Charles again. He got up and started to cross the road carefully. Charles was quick to move, not even sparing a glance back.

"Charles, please, I just want to talk," John pleaded, almost running to catch up.

"John. I told you, I'm not forgiving you, I can't. Not when you've already spilled out my secrets to the school, the ones where I trusted you that you wouldn't say out loud. And I know for a fact you remember I hate being called a fucking coward," Charles said. His face was covered in new tears, Charles looked more tired than normal.

"Then, I'll stop. But, please, I need to have you in my life," John said. His brain was scattered, he had no idea what to do.

"Great, you've unlocked human decency and regret. But, now, you have to learn no one is obliged to forgive you or that not everyone will forgive you just because you said sorry. I'm sorry that you've become an early Veronica. The sky's gonna hurt when it falls," Charles said. There was a certain pain in his voice. He held a soft frown that could be mistaken for an unemotive face. Forgiveness was not something that could've been simply imagined here.

( HEY , 100 ONE SHOTS , WOOOOO !!!!! I HAVENT REACHED A YEARS WORTH YET !!
next thing i post is gonna be my ship stats :-) )