Chapter Text
As soon as his son took his guns and left, Alexander stopped his work. He put down his pen and went to the window. Philip was already gone from his view. He was confident in front of him but he was beyond worried for his eldest. A duel is no funny business and he just realized that the advice he gave Philip was not the greatest. His pride isn't more important than his son's life, his legacy was not his reputation…It resides in his children.
Laurens, what would you do? I have already lost you, my Eliza, I can't lose my son!
With this revelation clear, he turned and hurried out of his office. He ran to the staircase. His children were his priority, his number one priority. Even his papers, his legacy, his work, his country, his friends, his Betsy, his life,…All came after his children. They were his treasure, his everything. He was thinking about that while running, hurtling down the stairs. He threw himself on the back door, never looking back.
-"I'm going out!" He screamed on his way out, without waiting for an answer.
Once outside, he crossed the backyard and reached the stable. He didn't pause to pick any horseriding equipment and he jumped on the first horse he found.
-"Come on! En avant!"
With a tug on the flange, his mount was off. The rain was harsh, hitting his shoulders and his face with a cold cruelty. He was griping the reins with all his strength and he couldn't see anything past 5 meters. As he was riding to the wind as fast as possible, only one thought was passing through his mind.
Philip, I'm coming! Don't die!
After some time riding, he finally arrived in Jersey near the river. It was approaching dawn, the darkness of the night just shy of covering the land. There, he could just make out figures on the shores.
That's them! Philip!
He was terrified to find the duel ongoing, just hearing the start of count to ten. Horrified, he threw himself off his horse and raced to his son. His eyes were on the two young men and he immediately noticed that the teen facing his son was shaky and not following the count. He didn't risk screaming, fearing that a sudden sound would frighten the already tense young men. He ran like he never has. His son's gun was already pointing to the sky. He was too busy running to feel pride for his son's actions. He was nearing the duelers when he saw the unthinkable.
Eacker has stopped and was already turning around.
No, it's not the right time, nor the right thing to do!
He was even more horrified to see the young man lifting his gun. To shot his son. He then pushed himself like never before and just as the count arrived at 7, he stopped between the two. He didn't have any time to say something before a piercing sound resonated.
A gunshot, a searing pain in his hip, a cry behind him.
Eacker was looking at him with wide eyes, full of tears. Silence fell, only the sound of the river runoff could be heard.
-"Dad!" screamed Philip.
Alexander sent a smile over his shoulder, to his son before collapsing. Philip hurried to his dad, crying and begging. He kneeled by the fallen man, not knowing what to do. He gripped his coat, shaking him slightly, tears running down his face.
-"Dad, what did you do? Why? It was my duel, not yours! Daddy!" He shouted in his father's face.
Alexander moaned at the movement, one hand clutching his side. He shakily raised the other to cup Philip's face, wiping his tears away with his thumb. He smiled through the pain, his voice wavering.
-"You're my son, your battles are mine" He murmured.
Philip began sobbing, trying to staunch the bleeding by pressing on the wound with his hands. His sleeves were already soaking wet from the rain but blood was now coloring his then white shirt.
-"Don't die, dad. We need you, mom needs you!" He whimpered.
Philip lifted his eyes, fixing the other onlookers with his wet wide eyes. Eacker was on the ground, muttering.
-"It's not my fault, he threw himself in front of the bullet, it's not my fault, it's not,…"
-"EACKER, SHUT UP AND GO GET HELP! Mason, help me keep my father alive! Dad, stay awake and tell me what to do!"
Eacker, startled, got up. He paused a few seconds, as is petrified. He then nodded and ran to the town, followed by his friend. Mason hurried to Philip's side. Philip slapped his father's face when the older man's eyes fluttered.
-"Dad, don't close your eyes! Stay with me!"
Alexander whined and grinned painfully to his son. Blood was running from his mouth, down to his neck. His body began to shake and it was as if all his strength left him. -
-"Alright, alright, don't kill your old man, he is already on the ground."He chuckled weakly.
-"Dad, what do I do?!" Philip cried out.
He was panicking, cold and terrified. The older man was beginning to feel dizzy and could not seem to concentrate on what his son was saying.
-"Dad!"
His son's distress woke him up and he tried to stand up, only to fall back on the ground, whimpering. The pain in his side was unbearable. It was like all his side was on fire. He couldn't help but think that Burr was right all those years ago. « Duels were dumb and immature. » He smirked slightly through the pain as the voice of Burr in his mind. He then turned his attention to his son, realizing that his musing could wait for when he wasn't bleeding all over the floor and his son.
-"Alright, keep pressure on the wound, put a cloth on it and press on it."
He was panting as he said this, his teeth clenched not to scream in pain. Thinking was easy, talking was harder. He then smiled at his son. He really looked like his dear friend John Laurens. He has his mother's cheeks but his eyes were his. Intelligent irises lost in a sea of freckles.
-"Don't worry son, I'll be alright. The important is that you're unhurt."
-"Shut up, keep your strength on breathing." Philip admonished his father. "Mason, give me something to staunch the bleeding!"
Mason ripped his sleeve and gave the piece of clothing to Philip, who immediately put pressure on his father's injury. The older man cried in pain. Ok, talking was hard but breathing was becoming the worst thing to do.
-"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, dad! Hang on, I'm here, you'll be alright" Philip reassured his father.
He was pushing as hard as he dared, torn between his will to save his father and the sadness of causing him more pain.
-"Pip, if I don't make it, tell your mother I'm so sorry about everything. Tell your sisters and brothers I…"
Philip shook his head and interrupted his father, tears in his voice.
-"NO, you will tell them yourself. Help is on the way."
He was then pressing with all his might on the man's side, decision taken. He preferred his father in pain but alive than a tranquil but dead one. His clothes were damp with his father's blood. Alexander groaned and coughed. Philip was horrified to feel splashes of blood on his face.
-"Dad, stay with me! Please, I love you!" He cried.
With the last of his strength, Alexander put his hand on his son's. He looked him in the eyes and murmured.
-"I love you, my sun."
His hands dropped to his sides, touching the ground. His eyes closed and he went unnaturally still. Philip, desperate, lifted him in his arms and tried to slap him awake in his panic.
-Wake up! WAKE UP, Dad !!
Alexander wouldn't wake up. His body was cooling rapidly and Philip was helpless to do anything. A shout was then heard in the distance.
-"I'm back! I found a doctor!"