Zero Two Three One | John Laurens X Reader [Hamilton]

LXXXIX: Two Tragic Russians

"I can't. (Y/N), I can't."

I scan his expression, terrified by the pain laced in every detail of his face. No...

I suck up a breath and fall to my knees, helping Alexander sit against the tree properly. Once that's done, I unbutton his coat and suit to reveal the merciless gash the bullet his left, staining the pristine, white shirt a sickening red.

It's still bleeding.

"(Y/N)..."

"Don't move," I say. "I'm going to help you."

"But (Y/N)."

I pull off my coat, carelessly discarding it into the snow. My dress suit jacket follows, and then I rip off the sleeve of my dress shirt.

"(Y/N), no-"

"Don't speak."

I fold the sleeve, press it against Alexander's abdomen, and apply a great deal of pressure.

Alexander curses and writhes. "(Y/N)!"

"Don't move!"

"(Y/N), you're hurting me!"

"I have to stop the bleeding."

"Stop!"

"I can't! I ca-" I cut myself off with a yelp when Alexander shoves me away from him. I fall into the snow, shocked by Alexander's actions, and startled by the words that follow.

"Stop it, (Y/N)! You can't save me!"

I go back on my knees, looking down at the ripped cloth in my hands. It's soaked with Alexander's blood.

There is a growing pool of blood around Alexander. The packed snow only absorbs so much, leaving a puddle beneath him. It brings back horrible memories of losing those I love; bloody snow is too familiar.

My eyes flutter to Alexander's form. He's shaking, his head tilted back to stare at the thicket of branches above. His chest rises and falls at an alarming rate while his hands cupped around his injury.

He's in pain. So much pain.

I lean towards Alexander, swallowing the lump in my throat. He tilts his head to meet his eyes with mine, his stare intense and demanding.

"Listen to me, (Y/N)."

"Alexander, wait-"

"Listen to me. You have to do what I say."

I fumble over my words for a long moment, unsure of what I'm trying to say, but knowing I need to say something. Alexander is quick to interject.

"(Y/N), focus on what I'm saying. Okay? Listen to what I'm telling you."

My mouth hangs open for a moment, then with a shake of my head, I shove away the frantic side of my being and reveal my orderly side.

"Okay... I'm listening."

Alexander tries to sit up taller, the rigor in his eyes has yet to fade. He nods towards the clothes I've discarded. "First, you need to put on your coat. I don't want you to be cold."

I blink at his odd demand but obey nonetheless. I shake off the snow from my suit jacket and slip it back on, followed by my coat.

"Now-" I cut myself off at my voice crack and repeat, "Now what?"

Alexander, his brows tightly knit, points a finger over my shoulder. "Cover our tracks."

I turn around to examine the trail we left behind... the trail of footsteps and blood. I backtrack quite a bit, running my bare hands into the snow to cover all evidence that we've been this way. The sight of Alexander's blood is enough to leave me nauseous, but I carry on nonetheless.