A new kind of stupid ( one shots )

Death Squared

Reaction to Laurens death
Alexander essentially dying ( or at least this personal part of him which is historically accurate by the way )

This is semi- inspired by this:

( third person )

We won. The young aide-de-camp to Washington could not believe the news even after having returned from the war for about 3 months. Sure, the treaty had still been undergoing negotiations, but fact was that they'd won. America was free! The very truth of it made Hamilton jump.

Giggles erupted from the young child who lay in a cot in front of the twenty-something year old. Philip, what wonders you bring me! Hamilton thought to himself as he tickles the newborn gently on the stomach and he flung his arms around playfully, a wide innocent grin plastered across his face. It was the smile only an innocent baby who had not seen the bloodshed and horrors of the world would be able to crack and Hamilton cherished that.

"Alexander..." His sweet Wife called from outside his office, her voice tender and gentle. She was careful to thread lightly, knowing the news she bore was one with the weight of unimaginable grief.

The door creaked open slightly as the young woman stepped into the room. "There's a letter for you from South Carolina." She told her Husband already foreseeing the pain she would have to bring on to him.

His face was as joyous as she had ever seen, a wide child-like grin* spread across his round cheeks, eyes sparkling with pure innocence, pure joy. At the mention of South Carolina, Hamilton's head perked up in excitement. A reply, at last! He thought eagerly to himself. He looked toward Eliza and responded," it's from John Laurens, I'll read it later."

There was an unnerving silence for a moment before Eliza spoke again. "It's from his Father."

"What?"

"Will you read it for me?" Could it be? What had become of his dearest that his Father would write?

"On Tuesday, the twenty- seventh of August, my Son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black regiment.

His dream of freedom for these men dies with him."

There is no noise in the moments that follow. Even the ever giggling Philip has quietened, as though even he has felt the tragic loss that has bestowed his Father. Hamilton stands wearily next to the cot, an arm leaning weakly on the edge, supporting his body. His vision is blurring, his mind whirling and his knees are weakening.

There is a warm hand on his shoulder,"Alexander, are you alright?" Eliza. No, Hamilton could not show his vulnerability to her. And then a thought strikes.

Who will fight for freedom with me now? Hamilton is shaking now, both hands resting in the cot for support. The tears are pushing at his tear ducts and he replies in full — maybe half – honesty," I have so much work to do..."

Eliza shakes her head and walks out the room, giving the space she knows he wants — no, needs.

As soon as Eliza is out the door, Alexander crumples to the floor. His head is tucked into his knees and arms and his face is wet with tears overflowing from his eyes. Soft whimpers escape from the frail man's mouth as he struggles to keep himself together.

But suddenly he didn't really care what he looked like anymore. He was alone, and he'd just lost his closest Friend - one of a few number, one of which he felt deep affections. Why should he not break apart?

There is a stream running down his face as he eyes a stack of letters that sit on his desk. Letters from John Laurens - Alexander reaches up and grabs the stack. As he reads, he reminisces of the good times he had shared with his Friend, of the almost moments.

The letters shake vigorously in his hands as his tears drip onto the ink and words start to merge into one another. Throwing his head back, he screams as loudly as he could, unleashing all the pent up sorrow, love and emotion over the years of hiding and pretence.

He is quiet for a moment before his mouth hangs open and he struggles to say but one word. His voice is soft, and void of any previous joy that he may have carried.

"Laurens..."

-
*Let it be known that I stopped here cuz it was too painful to continue writing :)

Also I hope you enjoyed getting your heart ripped out ( or maybe it's just me idk ) I literally need to stop torturing myself. I have 7 more stories in planning. 6 of which are lams - no fluff. Yah they're all me torturing myself haha :) :)