Work Text:
Hamilton stares down at his paper, focusing his eyes on one singular spot and yet the lines of his vision keep blurring. The headache is becoming increasingly harder to ignore. He knows he's loosing the ever short time for writing he has left of the day.
No amount of staring is gonna fix this problem, so ignoring it might be a better option. He moves the pen in his hand trying to grasp it more firmly, but his efforts are met with little to no answer from his trembling hand.
Oh
His hand is shaking, has he not noticed that before?
He tries to focus on the hand in question, and eventually gives up for the lack of success.
Returning his gaze to the empty paper. He starts writing, slowly, one letter after another. Too slow for his liking, for it is like his mind and limbs are in two different times. He quickly looses track of what he was writing, skimming over the last word searching for its context in the sentence.
He does not find it.
Hamilton blinks twice, his eyelids heavy and warm. Seemingly trying to make sure his eyes stay closed. Why does my body try to keep me from writing. If I cannot finish it how can I sleep peacefully tonight?
He questions in his mind. He knows he might be a bit dramatic, since he never sleeps good even when all the work is done. But for now it is becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything, including his own thoughts and judgements.
He signs rubbing his forehead.
Focus, focus, focus, ...
"Hamilton?"
He hears behind him, voice sounding muddied by his tired mind, but still beautiful nonetheless. He does not recognise the source of the voice but his mind focuses on it instantly.
He turns around hoping to recognise who speaks to him. He forgets about his blurry vision as he does so, but he knows the figure standing few feet away from him.
John Laurens
His mind supplies happily. He could recognise him anytime even if just by the way he stands. Currently he holds his own candle lighting his path as he just entered from the dark of outside world.
Laurens stares at him waiting for an answer, Alexander realises far too late for his liking. Since John is coming closer now, speaking.
"Alexander are you alright?"
Hamilton stares back at him, the face he sees is blurry but non the less still just as pretty as always. No words come to him, he just blinks once more. For there are no words to describe what he wants to say. And if there were surely there would not be enough of them.
John waves at him, bit too close for it to be considered a greeting.
Hamilton realises he forgot to greet the man, perhaps this is the way Laurens is trying to remind him.
He waves back.
John frowns, or at least that much can Hamilton see clearly, which is admitted not much. After that Larence raises his head up to Alexanders forehead. His hand is cold to touch, not freezing cold like ice, but calming, akin to cold breeze in autumn. Hamilton closes his eyes melting to the touch.
Unfortunately John does not seem to enjoy this interaction as much as Alexander had, since he pulls the hand away, frowning even harder.
"You're burning, what are you doing in here when you're unwell, sir?"
He questions, his voice sharper but caring. Hamilton smiles, hoping that by not answering Laurens will continue to do all the talking so he can just listen. A rarity for him he realises, maybe a bit concerning realisation. He shuts there thoughts down as soon as the appear.
Perhaps now that his mind is able to focus again he'll be able to write. He turns back to his empty paper, he scratches the pen on it but no words come out, his writing utensil only leaves a thin line of pushed paper behind. When had I last dipped the pen in ink? He wonders observing the pen more closely.
Laurens seems to want his attention more than Hamilton previous realised, when he puts his hand on Alexanders shoulder.
"You need to rest. As I am becoming more and more concerned about you not being in your cot in this state, Alexander."
His tone changed since the last time he spoke, he sounds more urgent, maybe even scarred. But of what Hamilton has no clue.
"What are you scared of?"
Hamilton asks instead, he never ment to worry his dearest friend, so he must find the source of his worries.
Laurens stares at him for a moment, seemingly being caught in a surprise by the fact that these are the first words Hamilton has spoke to him since he came into the room.
"Am scared for your health of course! For only you could be so foolish to think you can work with your forehead in blaze."
He states, angrier than before. Hamilton realises that he must have missed a few clues in the conversation. He feels as tho some part of it was erased from his memory.
"I apologise.." Hamilton starts, but words seem to fail him. For he does not know if the should be apologising. He blinks and stares at the man infront of him, waiting for a nod or acknowledgment that what he said was the right thing to say.
"There's no need for your apologies, sir."
He places his hand in front of Hamilton seemingly waiting for him to take it.
"Only thing I need from you, is for you to rest."
He finishes the statement, waiting for Hamiltons reaction. Alexander reaches for his hand if only for more contact. Laurens pulls him upwards, which is an action Hamilton was not ready for. As the world falls to the side and he with it. If not for Johns faster reactions he would have already made contact with the hard ground.
John is holding him now, looking down at him as if Hamilton were to perish the moment he takes his eyes from him.
Hamilton reaches and grabs Laurenses uniform bringing him closer, clinging to him. The World may have fallen around him but he anchors himself close to John. His dearest John. His John
"My world"
Hamilton mind says, but Laurens stiffens at the moment. "Had he suddenly become a mind reader?" Alexander questions, not letting go of John.
Laurens snorts. "You seem to be unaware that you uttered the last sentences out loud." He says, voice still bit tense with other emotions.
"I see..But would you really tell me if you were one? After all such skill would be more effective if your victim remains unaware."
Hamilton thinks out loud, words seem to be returning to him.
"I feel as tho we could be having this conversation anywhere else but the ground." Laurens suggests.
"Like the cot I mentioned earlier, I feel as tho you've been thinking about it too." He adds, a small smile can be heared in his voice.
"So you admit yourself to be a mind reader!"
Hamilton says louder than he intends. His own head reminds him of the headache which has not ended, only dulled with Laurenses presence.
"Am gonna help you stand, are you ready?"
Laurens questions, not wanting to entertain Hamiltons thoughts while they still remain on the ground.
"Aye, sir"
Hamilton answers. So the both of them get up and the world with them it seems, based on how much is it spinning. Alexander does not let go of John's hand only squeezing it harder for balance support. Waiting for everything to stop moving.
After that they make their way out of the tent walking slowly into their sleeping corners, which they thankfully share. Laurens seems to realise that walking hand in hand in plain sight might look suspicious especially in this time of night in this type of place. So he switches to supporting Alexander by hand on a shoulder. Hamilton mourns the loss of their hands intertwined with one another. But at last maybe they'll have time for in their tent.
As soon as they enter John pushes him onto his cot.
"Should I not take my clothes off before I lay down?" Hamilton asks.
"Ah...yes.. Of course. I just needed to be sure you wouldn't fall on the ground, again." Laurens says looking at him, eyes searching.
"I see that you would rather take my clothes off with your eyes." Hamilton teases, as Laurens turns away, his face it seems has heated up.
"Not at all..I was - I was only wondering if won't be in a need of more blankets...or perhaps water."
He speaks still being turned away as Hamilton undresses.
"It is only a light headache, no need to make a fuss about it."
Alexander says having put himself comfortably under the blanket.
"Only a light headache?"
Laurens turns back, his voice rising slightly.
"I found you unresponsive and burning, sir. And you call that a light headache?"
Hamilton glares at him, wheels in his mind slowly turning. He currently hates his mind, one ment sarp with wit the next silent. Normally it is the source of his success, now he cannot seem to find his footing in a simple conversation.
"Perhaps I really am sick." He mutters.
"Yes, you are." Laurens says from his side of the tent. The way Hamiltons eyes widen at the statement, makes him chuckle.
"I should start to write all my thoughts down, for I seem to be unable to recognise which I want to say and which should remain silent." Alexander states.
He turns his eyes back to Laurens who sits in his own cot, far too away for Alexanders liking. He does not know how to ask for comforting touches, it doesn't come naturally to him. But his sick mind seems to need it more than usual. He may have made a joke earlier about their relationship, but this? He cannot possibly ask Laurens to lay in bed with him. He may steal the touches where he can, but to show that he wants them is something completely different.
But the desire for touch is to strong, he feels like a magnet getting pulled to another of its kind.
"Could..If you don't.. I mean."
He gets lost in simple spoken sentences now, too? Perhaps it was better when he let his mind speak for him.
John wait for him, patiently.
"Could you come a bit closer?" Hamilton asks quietly. He hopes it's not too quietly for he would not like to repeat himself.
John nods, as he comes closer and stands before Hamiltons cot.
Alexander reaches for him helping John onto bed next to him. John is just looking at him, his gaze questioning but not disgusted as Alexander feared it might be.
"Do you want me to lay in bed with you, the whole night?" Laurens asks, his cheeks burning slightly.
"If you don't mind that you'll be laying next to a sick man." Hamilton says not looking him in the eyes for he fears he might find refection there.
"No, since I already brought you here I might as well make sure you'll stay resting." Laurens states.
"Are you under the impression that you would be able to hold me here against my will?"
Hamilton questions, but his eyes glint with happiness as his plan worked.
"Aye, have you not seen me train this morning?"
"Are you under the impression that I have time to watch you all the time, sir?"
"No, but you seem to be pretty interested in me this morning." Laurens adds with a smirk.
"I suppose someone had to make sure you would survive the training, sir." Hamilton says, trying to keep the grin off his face.
"Of course how could I forget that you are but a soldier protecting his world." Laurens says trying and failing to keep a straight face.
Hamilton stops, had he said that part out loud too? Or is Laurens truly a mind reader. He feels his face warm up even more, perhaps the fever is getting worse.
Laurens smiles at him, it's the most pleasant smile he'd ever seen on him. John's whole face look pleasant.
his pupils are dilated.
Could that mean...?
Surely not that just his sick mind playing tricks on him. Maybe the candle light might have something to do with it. He will not trust his mind again after it betrayed him so much today.
But still he can't look away from that freckled face.
He places his hand on Johns, waiting for a negative reaction, something that would tell him to stop.
Nothing comes, as John puts his other hand on Hamiltons cheek. He could be checking for temperature Alexanders mind supplies. They slowly lay down their limbs intertwining in the process.
Perhaps he's only-
His mind does not finish the thought, it already said too much today he decides as he brings their foreheads together. After that it does not feel so warm to blink he realises. But his eyelids still make him fall into the comfortable darkness. That's the last thing he thinks about before he falls asleep.
Falls asleep in the embrace of his world.