My Darling Flower [Alexander Hamilton x Female Reader] (Under Revision)

15. Clueless

I pushed a historical event a little further so this could happen and Y/N could be both with Lafayette and in that place (which I won't reveal quite yet). Also, if you cannot read the letters in this chapter, please tell me. I already know Samsungs can't read it.

Also, I apologize to everyone who read this chapter beforehand. I didn't notice that I accidentally published it.

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Y/N drifted in and out and in and out and in and out of sleep.

And each time she woke, she felt even more sick.

But every time she opened her eyes, she caught a glimpse of someone praying for her.

All five (? she couldn't remember the exact number) times, her father stood over her, elbows propped up on the bed as he whispered a prayer shakily.

Was he scared?

She had never heard him scared before.

Once, Tilghman was praying in the far back.

Another time, it was John Fitzgerald, then Caleb Gibbs and Richard Kidder Meade.

Someone was just... holding her hand.

She finally fully opens her eyes and lets out a groan, "Am I dead yet?"

Alexander was sitting beside the bed, gripping her hand as if his life depended on it.

His grip loosens and she closes her eyes, "How long was I out?"

"You've been in and out of consciousness for a day."

She sits up slowly, despite her father and suitor's (can she even call him that anymore?) protests.

"Y/N, lay back down. You need your rest."

"I'm fine... what did Doctor Thatcher say...?"

"He said it could be anything from the pox, yellow fever, pneumonia or pleurisy." Alexander tells her.

"But he couldn't check properly without you being awake." George explains.

"I'll fetch the doctor, Your Excellency."

George nods once and Y/N groans, holding her stomach, "Is there dinner?"

"I'll have Billy bring some in after Mr. Thatcher gives his diagnosis." George tells her, feeling her forehead.

"Father..." Y/N pushes his hands away.

"I'm only checking for a fever."

"I'm fine, Father." Y/N tells him, "I just need water and food."

Just then, the doctor comes in and Y/N looks up, "Good day, Doctor Thatcher."

"Good day, Colonel Washington," he greets, setting his bag down on the end of the bed.

"Colonel Hamilton should not have bothered you, Doctor, for I am in good health. I assure you." Y/N tells him as he opens the bag and pulls out a few tools.

"I shan't pass up the opportunity to make sure of it, Colonel. If you'll allow me," he glances at George.

"You needn't ask my father for permission. Only me." Y/N tells him.

George raises his eyebrows, giving a slight smile, and gestures to Y/N with his eyes.

Thatcher turns to her and George walks out with a simple, "I'll get you your breakfast."

Y/N swings her legs over the side of the bed and Doctor Thatcher grabs a small hammer and a thin wooden plank about two inches long.

Y/N unbuttons her shirt and undershirt and removes them, leaving only the bandages.