First Burn • Hamilton

Chapter Sixteen: He Was Talking To Him

a/n:  I'm aware that the song at the top is the same as the last three chapters but it's how it will be for the rest of the story because it's the part of the musical where this song is the present theme.

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Alexander continued to go back to the "grave" of John Laurens, talking as his soul stood by, looking on and listening. Holding Alexander as he talked about the children to him, Eliza and how she was trying so hard to talk back to Alexander. How it had been two months since Philip died now, the house was still as silent as night, while it was the day. 

"Good day, Laurens." He stated, sitting on the roots of the tree and leaning into it, back to the trunk, looking up at the thick bush of leaves hanging above him. The summer breeze slightly twisting them around.

"I hope you're doing well, this is far more fun than keeping a journal to you. That's saying a lot since the only thing I seem to do besides talk to you is write these days." Alexander talked, a small tug at the corner of his mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was a young John in front of him. 

The same one he remembered from twenty years ago, a stab wound in his abdomen, and a translucent tint to his frame. Alexander rubbed his eyes to check i he was hallucinating, which he probably was, as a coping mechanism but it was far past a coping mechanism at that point. The freckles splattered across John's face were as vibrant as he remembered, a Union uniform worn on his muscular frame. His thick hair wrapped in a navy ribbon.

"Laurens?" He asked, John smiled to him, Alexander looked around the cemetery he was alone, as usual.

"Dear Alexander it has been a while." John stated, Alexander let a tear shed from his eye.

"Are you real?" Alexander asked, John chuckled.

"That's a great question, maybe I'm a messenger? I'm not quite sure. I'm a fragment of the real Laurens though, he is off in Heaven, leading a solider's chorus. I think he sent me, as you won't see him until you die." The not-Laurens stated. Alexander wiped away a tear.

"But I won't be going to Heaven, I'm bound for hell." Alexander stated, the ghost in front of him chuckled.

"No one goes to hell. They go to their own version of Heaven." He stated, Alexander smiled.

"But what about their own spirits? Are they in their own Heaven whilst visiting your own?" Alexander asked in wonder, Laurens nodded.

"Yes." Is all the ghost said.

"Wow." Alexander replied.

"He wants to tell you to talk to Eliza. If you don't nothing will get better." John said to him, Alexander looked at him intently, trying to process what he said.

"But, that's near impossible she won't talk to me back." Alexander protested.

"But she'll have to talk back eventually, she'll always listen to you. Even if she doesn't speak. You have  to try, that's what he did with you. Now look at you, crying at a tree that you believe is his grave." The ghost stated, Alexander chuckled, looking up at the tree, wiping away another tear.

"Really?" He asked, The ghost nodded.

"Remember when we were young?" It asked, Alexander nodded smiling fondly at the memories. It was a fairly romantic relationship when he thought about it now. How many times did they kiss in private, loved each other, cried to each other. Shared small kisses over the essays they wrote for months against slavery.