Hey guys, Slyth here! I had this idea at like 3 am the other day and I decided to actually pursue the idea! This isn't going to be anything like serious, just an idea I had because I heard that during the Revolutionary War, Hamilton was pronounced dead by Lee because they were destroying some flour, the British came and started firing, boom boom boom, Hammy escapes by swimming away but they don't know that. So this is my little idea on how John would react-I painted him as an extremely emotional creature so sorry about that. Anyway, enough of me rambling, enjoy!

"-Hamilton is dead sir."

The softly spoken words washed over the room in a tidal wave. Immediately the cheery mood turned dull, and everyone speaking went quiet. At the head of the table, Washington stood up, his hands placed flat out on the table and he looked forward, his dark eyes staring into Lee's as if reading his soul.

"What was that, General?" Lee took a deep breath and folded his arms behind his back, his eyes darting around and at last landing on the man in the corner who had his hair tied back into a ponytail, his hands wrapped around a glass and clutching it so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"I said that Hamilton is dead sir. We were destroying the bags of flour-" Laurens didn't stay to hear the rest. He stood up abruptly, drawing nearly everyone's eyes. Gray washed over him and he suddenly felt suffocated, he had to get out of there, he couldn't be there one more moment-his chest was constricting and he was finding it hard to breathe. His hand clutched at his shirt as his eyes darted around wildly, and across the room Hercules Mulligan and Marquis de Lafayette stood up. Before anyone could make it over to John, he was gone, darting out of the room and through the camp.

He didn't know where he was going, but all he did was run. The wind slapped at his face, sending his long locks flying out of the ponytail they were confined in, and his dark brown hair billowed behind him as he ran. Soft raindrops fell from the sky as if God was openly weeping the loss of a soul so beautiful, so bright. Each step brought him further away from the truth, each sharp breath reminding him that it was true. If he let himself stop thinking, he could imagine that he was running with Alex-The thought cut off as abruptly as it came, and he pushed himself harder, running faster until he came to a stop at his destination. He was at a tent near the trees, and his breath hitched as he unzipped the familiar sanctuary and walked in. Alex's scent immediately assaulted him, and he held his composure long enough to shakily zip the tent shut, slowly toe off his shoes(Alex hated the mud that would get tracked along his floor), and he crossed over the small space tentatively. He lowered himself onto the bed, clutched the blankets to him, and allowed the waterfall of hot liquid to cascade down his face, the taste of salt finding it's way onto his tongue. He muffled his sobs in the blanket, his whole body shaking as he felt each part of his heart break with the last memory he had that was spent in this tent rising up to the forefront of his mind.

"We'll get caught you know." Laurens caressed his lover's cheek gently, a soft smile crossing his face as he stared at a half asleep Alexander, whose ginger locks fell over part of his face in waves. His blue eyes were half lidded, his lips slightly parted as he smacked Lauren's hand away.

"Stop that John. And no we won't, why do you think I picked a tent farthest away from Washington and in an area where there are a lot of twigs? I'm not stupid." He scoffed and opened his eyes some more, a yawn slipping from his mouth. "Besides...extra bed anyway, just tell Washington you sleep here when you have nightmares about your precious turtles being killed.."

"Alexander! I will have you know that turtles are-And he's asleep." Laurens let out a soft sigh and shook his head slightly, adjusting his arms so they were wrapped around Alexander. Leaning down, he kissed the man's forehead and whispered something he had picked up from Lafayette when he learned Alex could speak French

"Bonne nuit, mon amour." Settling down, he buried his face in the ginger locks and inhaled the scent of parchment and smoke.

He sniffled slightly, holding the blanket to him closer. Everything was cold, despite it being in the middle of the summer time. Tremors wracked his body, and he couldn't tell if it was from grief or if it was from the cold-he didn't know, he didn't want to know-he didn't care.

After all, why should he care when the one person he loved was gone? He was gone and they couldn't even be bothered to retrieve his body!

"Hamilton is dead…"

"Dead."

"Dead."

Hysteria bubbled up in Laurens's throat, and he began to laugh through his tears, knowing how disgusted yet sympathetic Alexander would be at him blubbering like this simply because it's him and Alexander hates having to handle with emotions because it was the one thing he was horrible at-

"John why are you in my tent crying?" The smooth voice had his head snapping up so hard he cracked his neck, and he groaned in pain, swearing through his teeth while the torrent of tears still poured down his face. He focused on the person who came into the tent, and his heart stopped. He stared at the person quietly as he watched them toe off their shoes and slowly walk over to him, and he watched as they sat on the bed, dripping wet, ginger locks plastered to olive skin and blue eyes staring at him as if they were reading his soul. "John did you get snot on my blanket?"

"You're dead." John's voice stopped the person in their tracks, and the eyes narrowed as the person grabbed John's chin firm, yet gentle and yanked his head up to meet their eyes.

"Obviously not. Did you get hit in the head?"

"Lee said you were dead..he told Washington you were dead-he told me you were dead." He was beginning to cry all over, and he flung himself forward, wrapping his arms around the person and burying his face in their chest. He inhaled the scent of parchment, salt water, and smoke, his tears blurring his vision as he sobbed and hiccupped. Eventually warm yet wet arms wrapped around his body and a calloused hand from writing too much began patting his back awkwardly.

"There there...I'm alive..Why would you listen to that idiot Lee anyway?" The hand moved up to stroke his hair, and it seemed more comfortable there. Alex held his lover closer, resting his chin on Laurens' head.

"Don't ever do that again, don't you ever leave me Alexander-" Alex pushed Laurens back, tilted his head up, and gave him a bruising kiss. Just as his hands began to sneak through Alexander's hair, Alex broke the kiss and stroked a tear away from John's cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere John okay? I keep my promises." John nodded slightly, feeling so much better simply because he was really here- "Now come on, obviously I have to go tell someone else I'm alive." Standing up, John reached out a hand to make sure that Alex was really there. Alex watched him quietly, and after a moment John nodded firmly, his eyes cast at the floor.

"Come on." He slipped his shoes back on and began to walk out of the tent, when Alex's voice came back to him.

"They can wait. Come here and take off your clothes." John stopped in his tracks and turned around, folding his arms over his chest.

"You expect me to have sex with you after finding out you were dead, and then finding out that Lee is an idiotic liar who I'm going to shoot in the ass?" A smirk crossed Alex's face as John's temper flared slightly, and he nodded cockily.

"Yes." With a growl John stepped forward, stripping as he went and Alexander rose to meet him, his lips capturing John's and he tried to turn them around but tripped on John's shoe, sending them both spiraling down onto the bed.

An hour later, Alex was tugging his clothes on, watching John sleep with a soft smile on his face. He reached down and stroked a piece of hair away from John's mouth which was open with one arm thrown across the turtle blanket Alex slept with.

"Bonne nuit, mon amour." Casting one last look at John, he covered him with the blanket fully and walked to the entrance of the tent, slipping his shoes on. Walking out of the tent, he began the 10 minute walk to the Commander's tent, his face slowly shifting into a scowl as he got nearer to it. Damn Lee to hell for making his John go through that. He was going to pay.

Bursting through the door, he saw everyone with tears in their eyes and beer in their hands, but they weren't who he was looking for. He ignored Lafayette and Mulligan as they stood, his eyes zeroing in on Charles Lee who was looking a bit too smug for his liking. Taking 3 long steps, he gripped Lee's shirt in his hands and slammed him into the wall he was leaning against, his eyes going dark with rage.

"Charles Lee I challenge you to a duel."