The Head Tie - Hamilton

The Fight - Chapter Three

I may not live to see our glory.

But I'll gladly join the fight.

Lafayette fought endlessly. He swore it didn't end. It couldn't end. It never ended. No matter what he did, the opposition always seemed three steps ahead. It wasn't like the American revolution. He didn't have his friends. He didn't have the leaders he was used to. He didn't have Hercules.

He'd already written his death letters and told Adrienne to send them if she ever got news something happened to him. She wished him luck and told him she'd die to get them where they needed to be. He smiled at her.

He guess he expected to have more time than this, though.

The bullet came fast and slow at the same time. He couldn't move fast enough, and suddenly it hurt, it hurt horribly, and he was down. Maybe he was just afraid to die, but he cried. He cried hard. And he cried for Hercules. And he cried for his friends.

Because that's all he could do.

And then it got darker, and Lafayette fought against it for hours. He had to come back to Hercules. He had to. He promised. He couldn't break his promise, because that would break his boyfriend's heart.

But eventually his vision faded to darkness without his permission, and he decided to let it.

"Marquis de Lafayette. Time of death, 4:37PM." *
*NOTE: this isn't accurate guys. just reiterating. made up. Made Up.

Adrienne teared up for the press and took the bloodstained tie from the hands of the general with sad eyes. As soon as the door closed, she started writing. To all the people Lafayette had written letters for before he left. It was the least she could do, she'd decided.

To people who'd made her best friend happy.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hercules knew Hamilton was crippled with the death of Laurens, so he just didn't contact him. And eventually they'd just stopped talking altogether. It didn't matter. Alexander was the Secretary for Washington, he was way too good for Hercules now. Hercules didn't mind. He was okay with just getting on with it...without Lafayette, it all seemed meaningless anyway.

When a letter was delivered to him directly from the hands of George Washington addressed by the hand of Lafayette, Mulligan had a shimmer of hope. A hope that he was coming back. That the man wouldn't have to live his life meaningless and alone anymore, and so that he didn't have to deal with the huge gaps in the friendship group that had presented themselves.

So he closed the door and opened it in private.

There were a handful of things.

Two separate letters and a small package. He read the letter not in Lafayette's writing first. He wondered if it was compliments from a French general or something.

Dear Hercules Mulligan,
My name is Adrienne. I'm Lafayette's wife by law. I don't know what to say here, really, but if you receive this, it's important to me that you know I support both of you and what you have. Having said that...

Lafayette did you proud. I never saw him take that tie of yours off. But..

He's gone. I'm so sorry. He fought his hardest. He fought his best. And I can guarantee as one of his best friends that he fought whilst thinking of you the entire way. I know that won't be enough consolation, but it's all I can provide. Contained is Lafayette's last letter, for you. Treasure it, Mr Mulligan.

I can't thank you enough for how happy you made him.
Sincerely,
Adrienne

Hercules' heart dropped lower than it ever had as he picked up Lafayette's letter.

My Dear Hercules,
If you're reading this, I died in battle. Just getting it out there. I might as well be honest.

I want you to know that I love you.
I know you know that, but I mean it. I love every part of you, every sound, feeling, smell and taste. You're without a doubt the best thing that ever happened to me. My entire life seems insignificant compared to the excellence of you.

You are everything to me.

I know this is hard on you. I know for a fact my letter won't reach Alexander, so I'm asking you to inform him of it. He'll find and read it when he's ready to. There's a letter to Laurens, too, but...

According to our sources in America, it's not necessary. I told them to send it to mon petite lion. He needs it more than the rest of us.

...I know it hurts, mon amour, but push through it. Please.

There is a universe inside you, Hercules Mulligan. I never got to explore the full depths of it. Don't waste your universe obsessing over things long gone. I loved you and you loved me, but I need you to make the most of the time you have left.

Having said that, I know how much I'd grieve for you, so maybe I'm being...how you say...hypocritical?

Just don't waste your life. Find new friends. Get a job you love. I need you and Alexander to be there for each other. He can't handle two deaths in a row on his own, he barely did it before. And you need to talk to someone who understands. So talk to him.

Talk to him no matter how much above you that you consider him.

...The next page is private stuff for later. I know my love can get a little too lonely. *winks*

With too much love to pour into this letter,
Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette

Hercules blushed and finally reached the package, holding back his reaction until then.

When he pulled out a worn, blood-stained head tie, he couldn't hold back anymore, and let out a choked sob, before letting loose.

He betted that the retreating Washington could hear his wails, in fact, he betted the entirety of America could, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care.

Tears were coming hard and fast and he couldn't breathe and he was snotty and ugly because that's what love is.

Love is ugly.

Love is tears mixing with snot spilling down cheeks contorted into frowns and screams, and love isn't beautiful, love is painful, hunching over and getting your hands damp because you don't want to damage the last thing they gave you.

And that's the day Hercules Mulligan learned that the love he had for Lafayette was ugly and painful and desperate and permanent, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He didn't know when he tired himself out. He didn't keep track because he couldn't stop crying anyway, he just exhausted himself out and passed out on his table with red, sore eyes and a frown he wasn't sure if he could ever turn upwards again.

AN: HOO BOY THAT WAS SAD. I told you guys it was short.