Hamilton One Shots

Afraid (2)

Requested by: hammiefangirl & pentatonixham & lostboys_

The scream echoed around the dueling ground for a number of seconds after the trigger was pulled. Alexander collapsed on his side of the field, gun dropping from his hand.

But he wasn't just going to let Jefferson walk away with the glory of winning. The game was nowhere near over. As his chest burned, he grabbed the edge of his gun and raised it weakly towards his opponent.

Thomas immediately saw what he was attempting and thought quickly. "Oh no you don't..." He flicked his own gun up and pointed it at the man lying on the ground. His actions were too slow and he felt a single bullet slice his arm. It was barely a graze, but if it had been any closer, that would have been the end.

Both of them, in agony, yelled at the sky. Lying on the ground, Alexander could feel his heart slowing down. No. He tried to rise to his feet, only to fall back down.

The feeling of knives thrashing at his chest continued, making him scream louder. Tears trickled out of the corners of his eyes, blurring together with the bloodstains. His mouth went dry as his eyes began to droop shut.

It was a battle to stay alive. He thought of his family, his beautiful wife, and only cried harder. Would they be able to survive without him? Alexander blinked a few more times, wanting to shut his eyes from the blinding light that was sneaking through his eyelids.

From the opposite of the field, Jefferson called for the doctor, clutching his arm. The grass beneath his feet crunched as he stumbled back and forth. One doctor tended to his wound, while the other rushed to the more wounded opponent.

Barely hanging onto his life, Alexander felt someone touch his arm and he whimpered out loud, "Eliza." The one name that was on his mind was his wife's. He just wanted to see her again, hold her tight, and apologize. He feared his timing was too late.

There was the sound of muffled talking and he tried to listen, but his breathing was getting harder to do. "Eliza," he repeated, grabbing the arm beside him. The figure in his vision said something else, but he couldn't quite hear.

He blinked once and then found himself staring into the eyes of the only person he wanted to see, the person he had been begging to see. "Eliza, my love!" He reached out to touch her face, but she silenced him.

"Hush, don't waste your strength." There was a bright glow around her head, almost like a halo. She looked down at him, telling him it was going to be alright. Alexander couldn't help but sob more and beg for mercy.

Thomas watched his wounded opponent on the other side of the dueling grounds, crying out his wife's name. The doctor kept telling him to stay still, but Alexander was convinced it was his wife in front of him.

"Who knew one bullet would make him go so quickly. Such a shame." Jefferson checked his bandage, thanking the doctor. He gulped as he saw Alexander trying to stay alive.

"Eliza, please." Gazing up at the woman in front of him, Alexander pleaded to her. He knew he had done wrong, coming to the duel, and being his usual self. If he died, she would left alone to fend for herself and their children.

The children. Alexander gazed up at the sky, praying. What would she tell the children? She would have to say how foolish their father had been, how self ignorant he was. The image of Eliza weeping beside her younglings crossed his mind and he groaned.

Above him, his heavenly looking wife touched his cheek gently. "You're going to be alright, my love." Alexander tried to speak, as his eyes almost shut. He could sense he was losing the battle already.

"Eliza..." All of a sudden, he couldn't feel his body anymore. As if being wrapped up in a pair of wings, he felt someone taking him away. The last thing he would ever remember was his wife beside him and the flooding light that surrounded him.

"We've lost him."

Jefferson looked up at the doctor. "Are you sure?" The sarcastic tone had vanished and had changed into an unlikely one. He was suddenly taken over by all the worries and horrors he had imagined. Alexander was dead.

The doctor nodded solemnly. "We'll have to take his body back to the city and alert his wife and family." Jefferson clutched his head. He had forgotten about Alexander's loving family.

What would they say? The effects of what he had managed to do were kicking in. Thomas nodded to the doctor. "Do what you need to do, and please make sure his body is returned to his wife, Eliza." The doctor didn't say anything in return, just wrapped up Alexander's lifeless body.

Pale faced, laid the man Jefferson had just managed to kill. Kill. He had killed a man. If he hadn't been so blinded by stupidity and arrogance, maybe he would have been able to remember that people died when they were shot. It wasn't a game.

As the doctor walked away, with the body on a stretcher, Thomas turned to his own doctor with a panicked expression. "Will I be put on trial?" He was already thinking of the consequences.

The doctor shrugged slightly. "Most likely, sir, as you have killed a man of great honor. And you, yourself, are a man of honor too. I have never seen anyone look at someone with such anger, in the way you did, Mr.Jefferson."

Thomas sighed. Now everyone would see him as the devil, a pure recreation of evil. He hadn't meant to kill, only to damage. To make a point to people who didn't listen.

Maybe when he was caught up in all his anger, he forgot who he was standing across from on the dueling ground. He didn't know what to feel, regret, sorrow, or even glee.

Whatever he felt, one thing was for sure. The gun in his hand had burned a mark in his hand, which he could already sense growing. The mark of guilt. Jefferson threw the gun across the field, watching as it landed in the bloodstains that belonged to his opponent.

There was only one option for him. To face his fears in the town, which would be waiting, or to run away like he always did. He weighed his options and decided what to do.

Taking a few steps forward, he headed towards the town. He would walk into town, with an expression that could only be classified as shocked. People would part way for him, for the man who had killed another of his kind.

If he ran away, from possible account of his endless errors, there would be no doubt he'd be caught. Thomas needed to be the strong man he was and face the guilt he created.

He was sure Alexander would have done the same, if he had survived. With his head held high, he would have walked into town saying that indeed he had killed a man.

But he wasn't there to do say any of that. He hadn't been the one to kill a man. It was Jefferson. And it seemed the only good thing he could do at that point, in all of his regret, was to face all he had done wrong.

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A/N: Thank you to the many people who requested this, including hammiefangirl, pentatonixham, and lostboys_! Sorry, I still ended up having Alexander die. Hopefully it turned out well to your liking!