Hamilton One-Shots

"My Angel"- Lams

IDEA: Okay so one night I was listening to the Laurens Interlude and wanted to kinda do a modern day version of Laurens's death? Well, this is what I came up with lol enjoy, it's pretty depressing. I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes, I didn't feel like editing.

"No," I whisper to myself, bringing my hand up to my mouth. Tears begin to well up in my sorrowful eyes as I slam my phone on the counter and rush to grab my keys. "This can't be happening!" More droplets roll down my cheeks and I sprint to my car, solemnly sitting in its dark corner of the parking lot. It is alone in it's parking spot, as I fear I soon may be.

Eliza: the first face I see when I reach the hospital. "Alex..." she tries to say something to comfort me, but I am too distraught to listen. "Where is he?" I snap back, unconscious of my biting tone. Five somber faces in the waiting room stare back at me hesitantly, each one holding the answer to my question yet willingly keeping me from it. I run a hand through my hair in frustration, Angelica rising from her seat to console me. "Alex..." Her words are the same as Eliza's as she embraces me in a tranquilizing hug. The part of me that longed for such contact causes me to bury my head in the crook of her neck and weep. In my temporary state of vulnerability, Eliza joins my side and whispers things such as "I'm so sorry," and "It's going to be alright," in my ear.

I finally come to my senses and break off from Angelica's embrace to sit down in one of the chairs in the waiting room. The four walls, each painted an unfeeling shade of ice blue, seem to be closing in on me. Lafayette and Herc sit across from me, watching me descend deeper into grief. They too have tears in their eyes, but they know that our current tragedy has struck me the hardest. The television in the corner is flipped to CNN and drones on in the background. The latest "breaking news" update is about Trump's decision to exit the Paris climate accord. I let out a small laugh; if only John were awake to see this. I have no doubt in my mind that he would tear Trump apart in an instant. Focusing in on the report, I allow myself to be distracted for a moment. In that brief moment, all is normal for a minute. Those few minutes allow the situation to simply be me sitting in a room, watching a news report with my friends. I find solace in this simple fantasy until a voice calls for me in the distance that is reality.

"Alexander," it's Herc. "Are you ready now?"

I nod and silently follow him down the hallway to a hospital room. The sign on the door indicates it as being room 1028, which is strangely the same date as John's birthday.

"I'll leave you to say your goodbyes alone," Herc says and tries to walk away, but I grab his sleeve.

"Goodbyes?" I choke out.

His eyes go wide as he realizes that I am misinformed. "They didn't tell you? The doctor says that there is nothing more he can do."

An all too familiar wave a sadness consumes me once again as I push the door open and reveal the sight that I have dreaded to see. John Laurens, my soulmate, my partner, my best friend.

I hate to see him in such condition. A brave, bright young man degraded and forced to appear so weak and helpless. A breathing tube of some sort has been plunged down his throat and several machines surround either side of his bed. His chest barely rises and falls with the beeps of his heart monitor.

I walk slowly over to his side and sit on the edge of the bed carefully as not to disturb him and his fragility. Bringing a hand up to his face, I trace the features that I have come to know all too well.

Freckles. His trademark. Nothing could make me happier on a gloomy day than having his freckled face pop into a room. They made him impossibly adorable, in turn making it difficult to stay angry at him.

Next my fingers find the spot where his dimples would be. Just thinking of him smiling and happy once more is enough to make even my despairing frown turn upward for a moment.

I continue stroking his cheek until my eyes find a fine line between his eyebrows. I am suddenly reminded of so many memories where he gave me a disapproving look. However, such a look would soon be replaced by a grin and roaring laughter. Just like I could never stay mad at John, any anger he'd express towards me would ultimately be overcome by brightness in his eyes that could only be rivaled by his smile.

His eyes. So lively once, but now shut forever and unable to grace the world with their beauty: the coma made sure of that. Never again would they be there to greet me in the morning or welcome me back after a trip. Now, their only purpose was to keep John plunged in a darkness so deep that even the darkest parts of my imagination couldn't begin to fathom it.

"Mr. Hamilton," a nurse calls to me, interrupting my nostalgia. "It's time."

I manage to squeak out a small "okay" as she makes her way over to the bed. The IVs in his arms are the first things to go. It's okay, I have to remind myself as she begins to remove the wires that hook him up to the monitors. He won't be in any pain soon. The only machine that she leaves running is the heart monitor whose beeps continue to grow slower. 95, 92, 87; it continues to gradually reduce until settling at 65.

All that is left now is his breathing tube: the only thing keeping him tied to this life. The nurse reaches for it, but I grab her wrist, "Just a moment please."

"John," I say to his unconscious being. My last words to him hold so much emotion for me, but they aren't enough. "I love you more than you will ever know. Wait for me patiently up there, my angel."

With one final squeeze of his hand and a kiss on his forehead, the nurse removes the breathing tube. The heart monitor drops drastically now until plateauing at zero. I gasp and succumb to my sadness, allowing endless tears to fall onto his body. John Laurens, the only person I truly loved in this world, is now gone.

Word Count: 1,087

First update, yay! I apologize for the depressing nature of this one, but for some reason I enjoy writing the depressing one-shots? Also, I'm not sure how frequently I'll update this book, but I'll try to update maybe once or twice a week if I can.