The Waiting Game (Lams)

Chapter 9

Alexander's POV:

His heart rate stayed the same. No fluctuations. No arrhythmias. I know I'm supposed to wait for it, but I can't. I can't just sit here and watch John slip from my fingers. His freckles make him look like a child. An adorable, turtle loving, handsome, tall child. He was still alive, and if he would stay that way, it would be enough for now. I held his hand, rubbing circles into his tanned skin. I only met him three days ago and now I'm pining over his hospital bed. I laugh to myself. I'm such a weird kid.

When my legs start cramping I get up and walk around a bit. I reach the door to the hospital garden then pause. I don't even know his favorite flower. I know he loves turtles, he's an artist, he has tons of adorable freckles, but I don't know his favorite color or flower. I step into the garden and experience a wave of calm. I walk through and see roses and lilies and tulips and pansies and snowbells. I get to the edge of the garden only to see a young man leaning over a fence to look at the street below. He's singing a tune from the musical Miranda, I think the song's "The Room Where it Happens." He's pretty good. I stand next to him, mimicking his stance. The people look like dolls from up here.

"Hey," I say quietly. He stops singing and looks over at me.

"Hey," He says back. His voice is so flat, like he's hiding his emotions.

"Why are you here?" I ask, simply because I'm bored and it would be nice to talk to someone other than the nurse. I mean yeah she's cool, but she can't be around all the time.

"My girlfriend, Theodosia, she was diagnosed with cancer. She's here for radiation."

"Oh, well that sucks quite a bit. My uh, friend is in a coma. He saved a little kid from getting run over." I say. It sounds so simple when it's out in the air, but in reality it isn't. He could die, he could live, he could become a vegetable. He might have amnesia. There could be brain damage. So many what ifs and maybes. No certainties. This makes me miss math. Everything was certain.

"Aaron Burr."

"Alexander Hamilton."

"So you're the one who punched my friend Thomas Edison. The accountant? Man you put him in his place." He laughed.

"Well if it isn't Aaron Burr! The prodigy of Princeton College!"

"Yes sir!" He said.

"You're here because of your girlfriend right? Man that sucks."

"Yeah." He nods solemnly. "We were going to be married but then the chemo..." He fades. "She wants to be healthy when she walks down the aisle. I want that too."

"Hey, why don't we get some food? There's a subway across the street!" I suggest. He shakes his head.

"Lemme buy you a drink." He says instead.

"That would be nice."

✍🏻💋❤️💋🐢💋❤️💋✍🏻

After Burr and I get back to the hospital we go our separate ways. I walk back to John's room. I smirk. Then I pull my phone out of my pocket and text Laf.

Hamiltrash: Hey Laf

Laughayeet: Wazzup

Hamiltrash: I realized I don't know John's favorite color or flower.

Laughayeet: Let me help you with that 🙃

Laughayeet: Favorite color is green. Like ze turtle.

Laughayeet: Favorite flower? Idk ask Eliza.

I giggle and walk to the gift shop. I get a green stuffed turtle and some lilies. Even if they aren't his favorite flower, he'll appreciate them. I decide to go home and change, shower, and grab some blankets so I can sleep in the hospital. When I get back on the road the traffic almost kills me.

A/N Before I continue I'd just like to say that I have reached 500 reads and HOLY COW OMG I FUCKING LOVE YOU GUYS WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE YOU IDK BUT AHHHHHHHHHH!

Secondly, I am calling you guys my angels, but remember we're part of the HAMILCULT!

(Hanilcult your response?)

(🖕🏻🖕🏻)

Anyways. Continue.

As I reach the hospital, an eerie feeling fills my stomach and I grab the bag with my clothes, sheets and the turtle and I pick up the flowers and walk in. I press the button for the tenth floor and wait anxiously. Something feels wrong. I don't know how to explain it. When I step off the elevator I'm greeted by Nurse Angie who holds me back, blocking John's room. I struggle as I hear counting.

"Charge paddles 200!"

"Chest compressions!"

"Still no pulse!"

"Charge paddles 300!"

A flurry of voices and beeps fill my head and I can't breathe. I can't move. The doctors swear loudly, begging John not to die. I sink to the floor.

Stay with me John. Don't leave me. Please don't leave.

*Is in hiding* Hi guys!!! How are you? Good? That's good. I'm good. Super! Yeah uh don't kill me. Anyways.... If I did a fan-art contest how many of you guys would enter? Ok. OK IM OUT!

ShylyAngelic OUT