Taught {Lams AU}

Again -28-

(Friday night- Saturday)

John's POV

I carry a sleeping Philip to his bed because Alex passed out on the couch. Philip needs to be comfortable, for multiple reasons.

1) Georges
2) Bullet wound
3) Precious

Once I place him under his blankets, I make my way out to the living room, again. I now pick up the big baby, Alex, and carry him to his bedroom.

Fuck it, y'know.

I slip in next to Alex, letting his body heat radiate onto my chilled skin.

-

As I'm on my way to school, everything is relatively normal. But as I enter, hell breaks loose. I run to Laf's room, where Alex, Herc, Laf, and John Trumbull were hiding in.

The gun shots could be heard from a mile away.

The students in the room were none other than Philip, Theodosia, and about 20 randoms. The students, except for Philip, were hiding in a mediocre-sized closet for all of his things. The teachers and Pip are blocking off the door while flipping tables over to hide under.

We all get settled in.

Then it happens again. The door breaks down. Thomas Adams is holding a revolver, aiming it towards Alex.

Thomas begins, "3... 2... 1!"

Right at '1', Pip launches himself over his dad. The bullet enters through his spine. He falls to the floor, unconscious.

Then, Thomas aims at Alex, again. It enters his neck.

I feel tears falling down my face, but I'm to petrified to do anything.

Another gun-shot is heard. Laf.

Then Herc.

Finally, the revolver is aimed at me. I can see directly into the center.

I hear the shot ringing. I see the bullet slowly coming closer to my head. It's going directly between my eyes. I can't move. So I scream-

-

Alex's POV

I wake up to movements and soft-spoken words. Bewilderment thrown at me, I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes.

John.

He was squirming, tears flowing out of his closed eyes.
I grab his shoulder softly, shaking him. "John?"

He doesn't open his eyes.
So I poke different places, his cheeks and sides.

His eyes open, terror covering his sweet and soft eyes.
As his eyes lock with mine, the terror melts. His eyes fill with love and happiness.

He wraps his arms around me, his face going into the crook of my neck. I feel his tears trickle down my next, soaking the collar of my shirt.

"Hey, hey, sh... What's wrong?" My voice is soft. I let myself hug him back, tightly.

He continues to sob, shakily whispering, "Sh-shooting d-dream.. It's s-stupid."

I let him cry, "No, no... it's not stupid. I had the same thing, just woke up mid-way. It's okay." I coo, holding him.

We sit like this for about 3 minutes. His sobbing turns into a murmur, his grip loosening.

His voice is raspy, "What time is it?"

"Almost 9 am." I whisper, letting go of him.

He nods, laying his head on my chest.

"Oh, the tables have turned." I mutter, brushing through his hair with my fingers.

"No, sh... It feels nice."

"The tables have turned, John." I chuckle slightly.

"Noo..." He whines, having his arm still around me. He pushes us both down. John's a cuddler- surprising, I know.

"The tables have tabled." I whisper.

He breaks into a soft laughter, "God, I hate you."

"Aw, I though we had something." I pout, crossing my arms.

"Hush. Play with my hair or no kisses." He argues, curling up beside me.

"Okay, Freckles."

He sits up, glaring at me, "No. Never call me that."

"Of course, Freckles." I shoot back, snickering. I prop myself up on my elbows.

"No kisses!"

"But Freckles-" I whine.

"Nope! Definitely not."

I nod, pouting, "Only kisses could heal a broken heart, like mine right now."

He rolls his eyes, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Hah! Can't resist." He rolls his eyes again.

"You're right, Lex." He kisses me again, a bit more firm than the last one.

My heart flutter. Ew. Gooey romance. Nasty.

But John's the exception.

I sit up all the way, "'Wonder if Pip's up."

He shrugs, kicking the blankets off of him. I do the same, heading to Pip's door.

I knock. No answer.

I knock a bit louder.

Fuck.

"John- he's not answering." I yell, him sitting on the couch. He stands up and sprints over to the door.

I feel tears welling up. John pushes the door open.

Pip's laying on the bed.

I run up to him, my hand falling on his wrist. The pulse is weak. I try near his neck; the same thing.

His chest is barely rising.

"John, call 911." I say shakily, tears beginning to fall.

Here we go again...