Hamilton Oneshots!!! :]

Lams-Angst.

       John can't feel, but he can remember how it felt. John can't smell but he remembers the smell of gunpowder. John can't breathe but he remembers gasping for air with him. John can see, but all he wants to see is his auburn hair. His doughy eyes...The one single beauty mark on his cheekbone. He doesn't want to see his poor daughter or his wife who he had left. All he wants is him.

     John can't do much but for some reason he can still cry.

    His wound, his mouth still bleeds.

"-I love you. I shall only tell you, that until you bade us adieu," -A

"Adieu, my dear boy." -John.

         John remembers the bar. The burning feeling in his chest when a friend walked in with him. John remembers trying to impress him.

"Two pints o' Sam Adams, but I'm working on three!"

           John was twenty-one years old at the time. So unaware. That in six years he'd be shot dead. So unaware that the boy he met that night would be the rest of his life.

             The rest of his life. "I wish I could be with you for the rest of my life." He laid, his arms wrapped around John's face that night. John's hands around his waist.

                John remembers when the boy found out about his wife, his daughter.

               John remembers the pain seeing the boy he loved..Loves marrying a Schuyler. John didn't miss the looks the boy gave him throughout the ceremony.

           John died twenty-three years ago. And the boy...Man is still living, a father, a husband. John wishes for that life with him. But John had missed it.

           Twenty-three and he still has nobody with him. He doesn't want anybody with him. And he did not want the boy to die yet. Never. John doesn't know how old he'd be, doesn't know what year it is. No heaven, no hell, just him alone. The darkness is crushing, the quiet is suffocating.

           And that's how it will probably always be.

     Until a light in what used to be his brain popped up. Showing a date.

July 12th 1804.