Hamilton oneshots (request are open!)

Until I write again

Authors note
A year ago I went on a trip and got to visit a bunch of historical landmarks and that inspired me to write a story, leading me to making this and I liked it so I decided to post it in my main fic. And now I find it will be fitting to republish it here.

Hard of hearing Hamilton au
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~

(Takes place after the battle of king's mountain)

Walking through the now destroyed battlefield, the essence of the beautiful forest was destroyed by war. The battle ended after the bloodshed of many comrades. The casualties were high, about 90 Americans died, however, the deaths weren't in vain. On the opposing team, the British, lost 1,121 men. We won and luckily me and my companions survived. The scene isn't a pleasant one, blood lays like a dreadful blanket on the ground floor, the bodies of the people whom I use to respect and use to defend the new unified nation as equals lie on the floor. Being that I've been in many battles before that now blood and dead bodies are a familiar sight, but for some reason it never stops hurting me when I see it.
My ears ring at the lingering noise of the muskets and rifles that were fired. My ears been deteriorating ever since the Battle of Trenton, now everything I hear is muffled more then slightly. General Washington started to realize that whenever he calls me in only a little less then his normal volume that I don't respond. But I tell him it's just that I was in deep thought, I don't want him to think me as lesser or less useful if he knew. So I've kept it to myself. I believe that my close companion John Lauren's is slowly figuring it out. Other then that, I believe I hide it very well.
But to continue, Washington is in his office, he is all but a man that can rest. His has his hands full with the lives of all Americans and soldiers. So he mustn't dwell on a victory. He currently works on the next plan of attack. The soldiers are in a felid sharing beer and champagne celebrating our victory and giving toast to the men that lost their lives to free America. While for me, I buried the American soldiers that have passed while I was taking a break on writing. I now sit on a fallen log, there's a silence, a unsettling one, I clean and bandage up my wounds, as I remember all the battles and death. However it seems to only bother me, of course all the others get sad when in case of many causalities, being that we all end up getting close to shine some light in this tense circumstances. So when people die it gets sad. But they seem to have gotten used to it. You got to get used to it when that's all you see. But I can't seem to get to that point. I've no idea why, because I've been dealing with death since I was a child. So I'm not sure when I will grow numb to it, but I hope it's soon if I want to mentally survive this war.

Until I write again,
Alexander Hamilton