Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

Every Ball Needs Music, Let's Play the Heart Strings

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Warnings: Heart-wrenching pain, good luck with that

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Hamilton and Laurens kissed? That couldn't be right. Hamilton wouldn't do that. Jefferson looked at Hamilton to see if it was true. It was.

Jefferson's heartbeat pounded in his ears. His breathing was hard and forced. His mind raced with million thoughts and was utterly blank at the same time. His voice refused to work and he couldn't move. Why did this hurt so much? It was just a kiss. Jefferson felt like if this were any other relationship, he'd be perfectly fine with it, just shrug it off and keep moving. With Hamilton, it felt like his whole heart had just been ripped from his chest, stomped on, and then thrown out a window. Why did it hurt so much?

Is this something I'm going to have to worry about?

I would never-

Jefferson gasped and clutched his head as it throbbed from the sudden resurfacing of a murky memory.

"Thomas-" Hamilton took a step forward.

Jefferson put out a hand and held his head for a moment, preventing Hamilton from coming any closer.

Burr, wisely, faded into the background.

"Thomas," Hamilton pleaded, "let me explain."

Jefferson stood up straight, dropping his arms to his sides, "No, Hamilton, it's fine. I'm fine. Don't worry about it." He was not fine. His head was spinning and he felt nauseous, his knees were ready to give out beneath him and dear God, his head pounded as the blurry image of the memory flashed in incomprehensible pictures of murky figures and muffled words. He needed to lie down or at least sit against a wall until the room stood still and his senses we're back in order.

But they needed to keep moving, the longer they waited, the worst the situation would get. Angelica didn't have the time for them to be falling apart now. Who knows where Laurens got off to, he was probably lost in a tunnel somewhere. They'd find him after all this was over. Why'd he have to run off? At least he could take care of himself.

Jefferson popped his cane into the air with his foot and caught it in a seemingly swift, effortless motion, but in reality, it almost made him vomit his guts up. "Let's go. We have a ball to crash," Jefferson forced his voice to be steady and upbeat. Nothing was wrong, he was okay. He could push through this. He walked off into the dark, Burr following close behind. The fact was they had to move, it didn't matter if Jefferson was dying inside.

Hamilton stood transfixed for a moment. What had just happened? Did he just lose Jefferson? Hamilton's heart was on the verge of shattering into millions of pieces and scattering like glass on the floorboards. He was on the edge of falling apart, tears pricking at his eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. It wasn't his fault. None of it was his fault. If only he could explain- If only Burr hadn't worded it so poorly.

Fucking Burr.

If only Laurens were still here. If only he was still alive-

Stop. Hamilton, you know now isn't the time to think of such things. He couldn't break. He mustn't break. They had to survive first. Grieving came after.

Hamilton took a deep breath and followed Jefferson and Burr into the dark.

Burr realized that he may have averted Hamilton's break down over Laurens' death, but he may have done so at the cost of breaking Jefferson instead. And probably Hamilton too. His words were too hurried. He should have thought them through more. Now he's the cause of a massive crevice that parts the most powerful duo in the world. This is why he tended to keep his mouth shut, when one hurries and doesn't think, one tends to make mistakes, and he just made a big one. What has he done?