Shot: A Jeffmads Fic

Salamander Candletin™

AAAHHH!!! 2.1K reads? And a hecccc ton of likes/votes?!?!?!?!! OMLLLLL Im dying, thank you so much!! Now after many requests of updating and me trying to fight this never ending writers block, I have thought up an idea for this chapter :D I hope its not bad, but we shall see :) I hope the characters aren't to off... Character... But it is a gay fan fiction in the 1700s n 1800s sooo

(Oh, and lets just pretend that being gay was alright in the 1700 -1800s plz....)

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(P.O.V Jefferson) 

Its been a few hours since James fell asleep on the floor with me... Nothing I ever really imagined saying but... I moved him to my bed, where he seems to be sleeping comfortably. I wanted to get to my office but my bed was sitting in the hallway to my office, an I didn't want to disturb my sleeping beauty.

 Many of my guests thought it absurd, to have my bed in the middle of a hallway. But I always saw it as a matter of convenience. Why walk all the way to a bed when you can have it right there? I  wanted it to be in my office but there wasn't quiet enough room. And plus,  it was fun to slide across. Or watch new comers do so. 

I was chuckling to myself, thinking about how when Hamilton stopped by, picking up some papers for Washington. Of course, I made him come to my office. He "slid" across my bed, fell off, and landed flat on his face. 

Then, there was a knock at my door. "Sally! Get the door!!" I fixed my posture and look, then walked over to my grand doors. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Salamander Candletin™ and... What's your name again? Oh yes, A-a-ron Turrd." I sneered at the two figures standing before me. 

"Hello, Thom-ass Shit-ton" Hamilton spat back. His arm snaked around Burr's waist. He was death gripping half dead flowers in one hand. "I've come to give my  𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦 apologizes about what happened to Jemmy James."

"Alex-" Burr whispered a warning to him. But it was to no use, my rage had spiked far past boiling point. Nobody- NOBODY- called James by that but me!

"ALRIGHT LISTEN HERE YOU PIECE OF SHI-"

"Thomas?" 

I whipped around, "James?" 

"Thomas, wh-whats going on?" He stood wobbly, a blanket wrapped around him, looking like hell.

"James, it's okay, it's okay." I went and wrapped my hands round his waist. He looks so fragile, like he could brake any second in my arms. I could hear Burr telling Hamilton to drop it, that they should go, then a soft thud, as presumably, the flowers were thrown to the ground. "Sally, the flowers. Burn them." I don't want anything intoxicated with Hamilton's touch in my house.  

(Hamilton P.O.V) 

I'm fuming. Positively fuming. I can practically feel the foaming at my mouth, like a rabid beast. 

"Calm down... It's Jefferson, what did you expect?" Aaron squeezes my hand.

I take a few breathes. "Right... Right sorry... Still means he's a dipshit though."

(James P.O.V) 

I wake to the sounds of shouting and extreme discomfort in my shoulder. I muster enough strength to get up and wrap a blanket around me, to expel the cold. 

"Thomas?"

It's hard to focus on what is going on, when dull pounding is occurring  in ones head and shoulder. Suddenly, Thomas has his arms around my waist, supporting me. Thank the heavens, I wasn't sure how long I could hold my own weight. 

"Tho-mas w-w-whats going o-on?" my teeth wont stop chattering, despite my efforts to make them stop.  

"James, you're burning up!" Concern and worry leaks from his voice.

"N-no! I'm freezing!" 

Before I can even protest, Thomas has me swept of the floor, and is caring me back to bed. I suppose this feels nice... 

Thomas lays me on his bed, tugging away the blanket.

"No." I say weakly. Can't he see how I'm dying?

"Jemmy... You've got a fever... You're burning up! We need to get your temperature down."

"nuhuh" I groan, before passing out. 

(Jefferson P.O.V)

He has passed out on me again. But I  keep my cool, and tell Sally to call upon a doctor. Why  must this be happening to my James? 

~small time skip around night time 9ish~

James hasn't completely woken up yet. Just enough time to whisper small sentences such as; "Don't  leave me..." or just my name.

"I wont leave you James... Never." I whisper back, dabbing his forehead with a wet towel. 

When will the doctor be here?

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Okay, I hope it wasn't shite... Some of you probably hate me now for putting in Hamburr... Anyway though, I  read somewhere how the hospitals weren't the most sanitary places then and how many people were prone to sickness or infection. So I carried on with that, and I hope its okay with you guys... I tried to make it a long/ish chapter 7 hundred somthin' words... *Thinks to other stories I've read with 1,500 words and the author calling it short*  But anyway, I got to go do some research on fevers and sicknesses in said times. ~ love ya, BBC