Chapter Text
--
“Wait!”
That was the last thing he remembered. A stricken cry, a hand reaching in his direction before all went fuzzy and odd, as if he were drunk. And fear struck through Hamilton’s heart because he can’t die, not without saying goodbye to ( Dearest,) Angelica, to Eliza--his love--
Laurens leads a soldier’s chorus on the other side. . .
His sons, his daughters--
My son is on the other side!
And so, with strong arms carrying him off the battlefield and watching the streaks of first light pierce the clouds, Hamilton smiled, holding up a trembling, bloody hand. He remembered the way his ship to freedom rocked in the gentle waves; the young man laughed to heavens, reaching a hand to the dawning sun.
Someone is. . .yelling. No, screaming.
“ Wait! WAIT! I have to see him!”
But the voice fades away and the pain starts to set in. Burning deep pain, hurt where he couldn’t reach to soothe and he wailed in agony.
--
He said his goodbyes to the Schuyler sisters.
Angelica, the only one to match Hamilton’s intellectual wit and fierceness in every way, had tears staining her cheeks. “You fool,” she’d whispered. “You daft fool, what were you thinking?”
“I tried to give her the best life,” he’d croaked out, and his darling Betsey had sobbed and clutched his red-stained hand to her cheek. His blood marred her pretty face. “ B-best of wives. . . and best of w-women,” he had smiled weakly, intelligent eyes dim.
And with a sister’s hand in each of his own, he crossed to the other side.
.
.
.
.
Or at least, that’s what’s supposed to happen when one dies.
But as the universe is known to royally fuck up Hamilton's life, such was not the case.
--