I Think I Love You-Hamilton AU [COMPLETED]

Chapter Ten

an

so this chapter is angsty. really no smut or fluff. just a aw (angst warning)

The last time Hamilton saw George Washington was before he was diagnosed and found out he had a year left. He talked to him a lot since, on the phone, over Skype and Zoom, just not in person.

So, when he was eating lunch at a restaurant with Jefferson, the news hit him like a train.

He had gotten a call and headed to the bathroom to answer it. "Hello? Who is this?" he asked.

"Can I speak to Alexander Hamilton?" the woman on the other line asked.

"Speaking."

"I am sorry to say that George Washington has died," the woman said. Hamilton weakened as tears sprung into his eyes. "He passed in his sleep last night from a seizure. You are to attend his funeral next week on Thursday, January 20."

"Okay," Hamilton said quickly. "Thank you." He hung up and dropped his phone. He sunk to the floor of the bathroom and started crying. He couldn't believe he was gone. Family really meant nothing to him now. Washington was like his father, and he sobbed harder every time he thought about all the times Washington called him "son."

He already has his phone to his ear. He must've blacked out, he didn't even know who he was calling. Jefferson opened the door, his phone to his ear. He knelt down. "Hamilton, you just called me, what happened?" he asked.

"Washington..." Hamilton said, trying to get the words out. "Dead." His heart hurt even more when he said "dead." Jefferson helped him up, paid, and led him out of the restaurant, harshly glaring at anyone who stared at Hamilton.

When Hamilton sat in Jefferson's passenger car seat, he screamed at the top of his lungs and fell in Jefferson's lap. Jefferson kissed his head and rubbed his back.

When Hamilton calmed down a little, Jefferson hesitantly asked Hamilton something. "Hey, can I ask you a question, darling?" Hamilton nodded. "Why are you so sad? I never see you talk to Washington, only on the phone, or something."

"He was like my father," Hamilton answered. "Since my dad left, I had this hole in my heart that I never thought would be filled. Then I met Washington, my political science teacher, and that hole was immediately full. We did things..." Hamilton sobbed, then swallowed. "We did things I never got to do with my dad. Now I'm officially done with family. It's never turned out right with me."

"Oh," Jefferson sighed. "I kind of wanted to start a family with you." Hamilton jolted up with a confused look on his face.

"What do you mean?" Hamilton asked. "I only have a year left. Did... did you forget that?" Hamilton could hear his voice rising, but his emotions overpowered him.

"How am I supposed to forget it? You talk about it all the time!" Jefferson yelled.

"Because it's only a year, and it's my life, Thomas!"

"Well, it's not my fault that you make your entire life about your life ending!"

"Ugh!" Hamilton got out of the car and walked home, which, of course, took forever. When he got back to the building there was a memorial out front for the loved teacher 'Mr. Washington' as people called him. He ran inside to people trying to comfort him, and reporters from the school newspaper trying to interview him.

"Are you okay Alex?" everyone asked.

"Alexander Hamilton, we know you were close to Mr. Washington. How do you feel?" One of the reporters pushed through the crowd and took a picture of his face that was streamed with tears. The flash burned his vision as he shoved everyone away and got in the elevator.

Once he reached his floor he ran into his dorm room to find an angry Jefferson sitting on the couch. He sighed and ran to his bedroom where he slammed the door and sobbed.

He wanted his mom.

_______________

The day of the funeral came by slowly, even though it was only a week. Eliza had gifted him a black suit that also came with a black shirt and shoes for the funeral.

When Hamilton arrived, he didn't even shed a tear. He had cried so much he felt like he had no tears left. Jefferson escorted him, both of them pretending they had never gotten in a fight. The truth was they got into multiple fights a day, neither of them really knowing what it was about.

Hamilton stared at the open casket with clenched teeth. Washington's lifeless body made Hamilton's feel twice as lifeless. He felt weak and vulnerable but puffed his chest out to look like he was handling everything.

The funeral was long, boring, and sad. Hamilton and Jefferson placed their roses on the now-closed casket and walked back to their seats where they started arguing again.

"You're supposed to place the rose delicately, Alexander," Jefferson whispered. "Not drop it like it's a bug. It's a beautiful flower, not a beetle."

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little sad that the father figure in my life suddenly died," Hamilton whispered back.

"That's no reason not to be a little proper at a funeral." Jefferson stopped talking to Hamilton for the rest of the funeral.

Back at home, Hamilton decided to end the on-going fight between him and Jefferson. He sat next to Jefferson on the couch. "Hey," he said. "I-I'm sorry. I've gotten a little carried away these past few days, this has just been hard for me."

"Okay," Jefferson said, not even glancing at Hamilton.

"What the hell, Thomas? Just accept my apology!" Hamilton said.

"You don't remember what I said a couple days ago in the car, do you?" Hamilton almost started screaming at Jefferson again, but immediately remembered what he said.

I kind of wanted to start a family with you.

Hamilton gasped and suddenly felt weaker. His heart hurt and he had a pounding headache. He wasn't panicking, something was happening to him.

Something with his disease.

He kissed Jefferson. "I'm sorry," he said. Jefferson smiled. "I want to start a family with you, too. We just... we can't." Jefferson nodded as a tear slipped down his cheek. Hamilton kissed Jefferson again. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too." Hamilton felt his body shut down as he fell off of the couch and onto the floor.

"Alexander!" Jefferson screamed. He pulled out his phone and called an ambulance.

The last thing Hamilton remembered was him being rushed to a hospital room and doctors frantically rushing in and out.

And for some reason, he was ready to welcome death with open arms.