The Crabby Crawfish - A Book of One-shots

<H> Halfway There

Fandom: Hamilton

Ship: Lams

Time period: Winter, 1777 (song: Stay Alive)

Inspired by/referencing: Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi (above)

Warnings: Death, crappy romance scenes, frostbite, and other cold-weather conditions

P.S. Italics mean the quote from a song. They can also mean thoughts, but I trust you can tell the difference.

Laurens shivered and pulled his thin coat closer to his skin, hoping for a warmth that he knew wasn't there. It was a miracle and a curse that he was still alive at all - miracle because he should be dead, curse because he wanted to be dead.

It was the dead of winter and Laurens could barely believe there was a world outside the death and frostbite he saw every day. The snow turned the ground an evil white that burned Laurens' eyes. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

Laurens shivered again in his canvas tent. It was the dead silence of night, bringing a stinging, bone-biting chill to the army. He glanced down at his hands, pale for lack of blood. At this point, he couldn't even feel his fingers. He wondered when frostbite would set in. He also wondered if he had a choice in the matter. Probably not.

A howling gust of wind shook the wooden-framed tent, making Laurens bite his lip in anxiety. That was another of the cons of living: worrying. One never knew when they might be pried out of the living world.

Laurens felt the temperature drop with what was left of his feeling. He weakly turned his head to see Hamilton, one of his best friends. Usually, Laurens would smile or great his friend, but he could not find the strength.

Hamilton grasped the canvas with trembling fingers, shutting the flaps as tightly as possible in a vain attempt to keep out the cold.

"Laurens," he croaked.

Laurens struggled to lift his lips into anything but a grimace. "Hey, Hammy," he replied.

Hamilton lowered himself onto the floor, groaning from the effort. Laurens knew better than to ask if Hamilton was all right - he wasn't, obviously. But Laurens couldn't help his heart from reaching toward him, to help him. Nevertheless, he stayed where he was.

Small talk was a waste of time for soldiers, and nothing more was said after those words; there was nothing left to say. Not until Hamilton crawled closer to Laurens, grasping his icy hands.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

Laurens' lips, purplish-blue from the temperature, parted in surprise. "You know better than to waste words, my friend," he replied wisely.

Hamilton glanced at their numb clasped hands. "I do, but you make me forget my upbringing, forget convention and ideals. John Laurens, with you I find something I have never felt before." He brought himself closer to Laurens and leaned to his friend's face, close enough to see the ice crystals forming in his eyebrows. "I love you, Laurens, whether we survive this winter or not. I have you, and that's all I need right now."

Laurens knew he should pull away from the embrace to keep his honor, but with the cold, he would take any source of warmth. He pulled Alexander closer, resting his head on his friend's neck.

"It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We've got each other, and that's a lot for love. We'll give it a shot," Alexander whispered.

Love? Laurens thought. Did he just say he loved me?

"I love you, John," Alexander said, massaging Laurens' frozen fingertips.

Well, that was forward, Laurens thought.

"We're halfway there, living on a prayer." He took Laurens' hands more firmly. "But we'll make it, I swear."

"We're living on a prayer, Alexander. A prayer for each other."

"A prayer I'll always be saying."

*

Super short, but I'm lazy.

Well, bye!