Lams And Enjoltaire Oneshots

Dead or Alive- Lams

"Come in," Washington calls in a straight tone. I enter his office, seeing him standing next to his desk, head drooped, brows furrowed. He looks disappointed, lost even. I have never seen him like this before.

"Yes, sir?" I ask, then spotting Charles Lee on the other side of the room. He always hated Alex, therefore we hated him. I glare at him across the room, wondering why he's looking giddy like he was about to explode with excitement.

"Laurens, I have some unfortunate news." The General frowns. My head buzzes with confusion. Have I done something wrong? I mean besides the obvious, but Washinton already knows about the nature of Alex and I's relationship. What if he told Lee? Why would he do that? What's happening?

"Relax, John, This isn't about you," I sigh, realising I wasn't about to be arrested. "It's about Alexander," I sighed too fucking soon.

"What- What about him?" He had told me this morning that he was going across the Hudson with Lee and a few other men. Lee was back, clearly, but Alex hadn't come to announce his arrival.

"I don't know how to say this, son-"

"Hamilton's dead!" Lee yells, a half restrained smile across his face. Washington glares daggers into him, but I could focus on that.

What? My dear boy... My love... My dearest... was dead?

"No-No he can't be!" I yell, tears burning behind my eyes. "...how?" I ask in a quiet, shaky breath

"Drowned in the Hudson, shot before that maybe!" Lee smiled, trying to shrink it, falling atrociously.

"Why didn't you help him?" I hiss, still quiet, but my anger building up in my chest. I step in his direction, only for Washinton to stand in between us.

"The British started firing, I got myself, Hamilton wanted to stay and help his men-" Lee started in a happy tune.

"He died a hero," The General interrupted, putting a hand out to Lee, signalling him to be quiet "I'm sorry, John, I know how much he meant to you," He said with a sigh.

I couldn't hear anyone. They were all an echo in my brain. Alex was gone. And I wasn't there to help him.

"Laurens, are you alright?" Washington asked in a careful voice.

"I-I have so much work to do," I almost whisper as I run out of the room. I wipe tears as they fall onto my jaw. He can't be gone. I can't lose him.

I need to hear his voice one more time. I can't possibly live without him.

Lafayette is in France, debating with King Louis about their troops once more. I'm alone. Completely alone.

I run across camp to our shared tent, the thought that I don't share it anymore is enough to send sobs shaking through my body.

With a quivering voice, I sob his name like he can still hear me. I hate Lee for letting him die. I hate Washington for sending him on that damn mission. I hate Lafayette for not being here. I hate myself for letting him slip away.

He didn't deserve what he got. Hasn't he been through enough? Now death?!?

I lay there for hours on end, my sobs never fading. My thoughts never shifted. My tears never ran out.

My body shook with ferocity as the sun fell low in the sky. Cutting through the sound of my sobs, I hear a knock at my door.

"Laurens? Can I come in?" I hear Washintons deep voice call. I can't stop my tears to muster a response. I hear the door creak open and the presence of the general waft in.

"W-What do you w-want," I try, my voice barely above a whisper and cracking as much as a twig under a horse's hoof.

"Your fellow troops and I are going to raise a glass to Hamilton's life. I want you to come," He said in a low voice, stepping closer.

"I...I can't," I whisper. I shake my head, my heart sinking. "I can't accept that he's gone," I say, barely getting the words out anymore.

"I've told you the story of my first command. Somehow, I managed to get over their deaths, and it wasn't staying locked in my room for days with no end and refusing to face their deaths. This will help, John. Trust me," He says, his low voice floating through the air and into my head. His careful, yet caring look gazes over me. Alex would have wanted this.

"Fine. I'll come," I whisper, wiping my eyes. "Fine,"

"Good. Come, I'll get you a drink," He says, waiting at the other side of the door.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

We arrive at the fire, its flame licking up into the darkness of the night. Everyone was there, sombre looks upon their faces. Alexander had a surprising effect on people, to yell at probably every single one of these people and yet still have them mourning his death. Washington hands me a bottle and I immediately take a sip, letting the liquid run down my throat. I find no problem drowning my sorrows in alcohol, so I make that my plan for the night.

Two hours pass, my heart still heavy in my chest. Alex hadn't left my mind. The thought of his body sinking in the hudson. Yep, I'm still far from how drunk I want to be. I'm talking with a few troops around the fire to hide from the cool air.

They are drunk out of their minds, and I have to force a laugh out of myself every now and again, though my heart is still slowly deflating. Suddenly, the whole group silences. All that remains is the crackle of the fire. Their eyes are glued to something behind me, so I turn my head, pushing my hair out of my eyes to be met with someone who made my broken heart stop beating.

Alexander stood there, his clothes hanging off him, droplets dripping down his small frame. His soaked hair stuck to his face, yet he was still smiling.

"You started drinks without me?" He smiled despite shivering slightly. Tears start to form in my eyes once more. I gasp for air, trying to find words, trying to form thoughts.

"Alex-" I say, being cut off by my own sob. My discarded bottle falls to the floor as I jump up, running towards my dear boy. I run into him, catching his soaking body in my arms. His arms wrap around my neck, his legs around my waist. He must have picked up on the fact that the men were either too drunk to care or asleep. I slowly spin around, gripping to the smaller man as he latches onto me.

"Alex. You made me think you were dead! I...I thought I lost you," I cried into his already soaked neck as his grip around my neck and waist only tightened.

"Blame Charles Lee for that. That gibface tried to drown me!" He laughed lightly. I couldn't muster a laugh. He was back.

"Lucky Laffs not here. He'd be taking him down to Jersey," I say, my grip not faltering

"Might do that myself," He growls.

"No. No, I'm not letting you do that. I'm not risking losing you again,"

"Aye Aye, Lieutenant,"