The Price of Love

Chapter 33

Last chapter. Y'all probably gonna hate me for this :D

John's PoV

I risk a glance at my husband. He looks worse than he did about ten minutes ago, with even more dirt and gunpowder covering his face. He flashes a quick grin at me and scoots a few inches closer to me. "When will this be over?" I shout over the gunfire.

"Hard to say!" He yells, ducking into the trench. "Soon, hopefully!"

"You said that last week!" I yell back.

"I know I did!" He screams. "I might be right some of, if not most of the time, but I'm still human! I make mistakes!" I throw myself down onto the bottom of the trench to dodge a hail of bullets flying our way. Alex follows suit, and his eyes meet mine. He's panting, but he manages a smile. "Well this is fun." He gasps, his eyes shining brightly.

"Yeah." I respond. We wait for a few moments. "Think it's safe?"

"Yup." He says, jumping to his feet and pointing the muzzle of his musket in the direction of the enemy. I do the same a few seconds later. We've been fighting here, all over Long Island, for the past month. It's been brutal. But I don't regret a single second of what's happened over the past seven months since we married and I left South Carolina. It's been the best seven months of my entire fucking life. I even got Alex to tell me about his past. His brother was shot and killed in a battle. That's why he always makes a big deal about returning the dead back to their families for a proper send-off, and why he always gets so sad when someone gets killed who has a family member serving. He knows what it's like. And his mother died in a hurricane in the Caribbean when he was eleven. He almost died as well, which is why he's scared of storms. Which explains why he was crying when we rescued him, so many months ago now. And I shared my past too. My mother died when I was young. I never really had any friends because my dad never let me off the castle grounds for long. "It'll be over soon." Alex says grimly.

"I know." I respond. But how many more men will die before we win? The question has plagued both me and Alex, and the answer never looks good. He moves closer to me so that we're only a few inches apart, coming as close to touching me as he can. Obviously, we can't because we're in the middle of a battle. "Just a little longer. It'll be over soon." I keep reaping those words to myself over the course of the next few hours, just like I have for the past week. Finally, finally, things start to turn in our favour. We push them back to the tip of Long Island, giving them nowhere to escape to. After three more long, hard days, I think we've almost won. We've cut them off, General Cornwallis is leading them, they've got nowhere to run, they're out of options. There's little cover here, save for the shallow trenches we managed to dig.

"Just a little while longer men!" Alex yells. "This is the home stretch, we've almost won! The war's almost over!" HIs eyes shine bright with untold happiness that the war, which has robbed him of a normal upbringing and a happy childhood, and has torn so many hundreds of families apart, is nearly over. For three more hours, we fight. We eventually move out of the trenches, pressing our attack harder, putting the pressure on them. Three hours. Then my world is ripped apart. Time slows down. The bullet approaches me in slow motion. I'm too slow to act. He's faster. He pushes me onto the ground right before it catches me in the lower stomach. I watch in horror as the bullet buries deep into his chest. Three more follow it, catching him in the chest and the stomach. Time comes rushing back. Pain and surprise contort his face and he stumbles backward, dropping his musket and clutching his torso.

"NO!" I scream, loud enough to be able to be heard over the sound of blazing guns. I fall to my knees. "No, no, no, no. Alexander, you stay with me." I order. "You stay with me, you hear!? Don't die! Don't die 'Xander!" I gently pick him up, tears falling freely from my eyes. He coughs, and blood drips from his mouth.

"John." He chokes out.

"Don't die." I sob, caressing his filthy face. I tune out the rest of the world, and I don't notice the white flag waving through the air behind me. "You can't die Alex." He grabs my hand weakly.

"I love you." He gasps, blood pumping from his body and his eyes glazed with pain. "Shit, shit, it hurts." He coughs more blood.

"Don't go." I whisper. "You can't leave me." He grips my hand a bit tighter. I don't notice the ring of soldiers that have gathered around us, silent, mourning.

"I may not live to see our glory." He sings softly. My tears fall onto his face, adding to his own. Time stops.

"B-But I will gl-gladly join the fight." I sob. My song, his song, our song. The rest of the soldier's voices mix in with ours, all of them filled with pain almost as great as my own.

"And when our children tell our story." He sings.

"They'll tell the story of... tonight." We sing together. He sighs. The light in his eyes that made him Alexander fades away. His eyes glass over. His hand falls slack in mine and his head lolls to the side. "No." I choke out. "No. No! NO! Alex! Don't leave! Alex, come back!" I scream, pressing his lifeless body into mine and sobbing into his shoulder, which is quickly turning cold.

"He's gone mon amie." Lafayette says softly, putting his hand on my shoulder. "He's gone. I'm so sorry. I know how close you two were." Tears stream down my face as I cradle the cold, dead body of my husband. He says something quietly in French, something about leaving. I have managed to pick up a bit of French, but I'm nowhere near as good as Alex is. Was. Why Alex? You should have let me take the bullet and die. You had such plans for your country. I should have died. I shake my head.

"No Lafayette." I sob. My hand finds the hilt of his knife. His beloved knife. I pull it out from its sheath. "You don't understand." I angle the knife at my heart and see a look of horror cross his face. "He was my husband." I ram the knife into my chest with zero hesitation. Greater physical pain that I've ever felt in my life courses through my body, but I don't scream. I collapse onto the blood-soaked grass, Alex's body following me. I intertwine our hand for the very last time and smile at his lifeless form. "I'll be there in a few minutes, dear boy." I whisper. "I'll see you on the other side, soon." I can feel the life draining out of me. Feeling the few minutes I have left ticking away. And in the last few minutes, I relive the greatest parts of my life. Running off to New York for the first time. Laying eyes on Alex for the first time. Kissing him for the first time. Fighting by his side for day after day after day. The relief that filled me when we met up after we took back Albany. Sitting in that shack, holding him after two long months. Him proposing. Our wedding day. I only have a few seconds left, I can feel it. All the kisses we shared. Getting to fall asleep close to him night after night. Getting to hold him. Listening to him talk and talk about his plans for the future after we got married because he knew he could place his full trust in me and I wouldn't betray him. And I never have. "Just a few more seconds, dear boy." I breathe. My vision fades away. My breathing stops. My heart stops beating. Everything goes black. I've died, but I'm just where I want to be. By my Alexander's side.

I'm so dead inside I didn't cry while writing this please help. This was fun, hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did, questions, comments, concerns, therapist recommendations, all are welcome

-Bottomless Pit