My loyal, royal subject - Kingbury

Chapter 15

A/N: This chapter gets really messed up so be careful y'all stay safe
Trigger warning: (Implied)Suicide, Death

Samuel woke up the next morning at the crack of dawn.

With a splitting headache. He slowly sat up, putting a hand on the side of his head and squeezing his eyes shut. What happened last night, he wondered.

"Ugh...okay, let's...start with what I do remember.." He said to himself. He remembered the letter from the king, and Charles kissed him. He got scared, and ran out of the hotel. Then he was at a bar, and he got some whiskey, and probably drank way too much of it. And that's all he could remember.

And his head hurt. So did his arm, considering he fell on it. Slowly, he struggled to his feet and walked over to the sink, pulling out a cup and pouring himself a glass of water and drinking it all in one gulp. And then he drank more water. Finally, his headache had subsided enough for him to register what was going on.

"Charles?" He called out, his foggy memories of the day before kind of coming back, though he hoped that it had been some strange dream. But of course, hopes didn't always come true. He flicked on the light, shielding his eyes even though it wasn't actually that bright. But he found himself alone in the room, with the note from Charles sitting on the floor next to where he had blacked out.

So it was real. Sam sighed, putting his head in his hands. He had finally made a friend, and he messed everything up, like always. He mumbled something about wishing he hadn't survived that duel, and headed out to find Charles. He had to make things right.

"Ch-Charles? Charlie? I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" Sam called out into the empty square, the harsh wind biting at his skin even through his sweater. He didn't really expect a response, and he didn't get one.

"Charles! Charlie, I'm so sorry. I was just shocked that you kissed me, I still wanna be your friend!" He sobbed, tears rolling down his face. He had to find him. He decided that he wouldn't go home until he found Charles.

Well, it was true. He would find him.

But after a few hours of looking, he had no luck. He had been searching the square and all around the area, but there was no sign of his missing friend. He was about to go home, when he saw a dark alley that he hadn't checked yet.

He slowly wandered into the alley, squinting in the darkness. It was almost winter, so it was staying dark for longer outside.

"Charles?" He called out softly into the darkness, and he heard the sound of someone crying. Though he couldn't quite see them, he assumed they were probably close.

"Samuel." The crying person mumbled, and Sam instantly recognized the voice. It was Charles. Sam grinned, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes.

"Charlie! Oh, I'm so glad I found you! I was so worried! And I'm sorry about the kiss, I-I was just startled!" He rushed out a stream of apologies and Charles looked up, sadly. Sam walked closer, wanting to hug his depressed friend, but Charles didn't want that.

Charles reached into his coat, pulling out a small pistol. Sam's pistol from the duel, to be exact. He must have grabbed it before he left. He shakily pointed it at Sam, who took a step back and held his hands up, as if to say he wasn't going to do anything.

"No, Sammy. You had your chance with me. Don't come any closer, or I'll-I'll shoot you." Charles exclaimed, not knowing what he was doing anymore. He was acting purely on instinct, and he couldn't stop himself from doing his even though he would never really shoot Samuel.

"Charlie, please. W-we can make this work, you could come to Britain?" Sam exclaimed, laughing nervously. Charles shook his head.

"I can't do this." He muttered, before attempting to run past Samuel, who stopped him. Panicking, Charles shoved him backwards and kept running, running into an old abandoned house and locking the door behind him, putting a chair up against the door.

Samuel fell, his head hitting the concrete ground. He laid there for a few seconds, stunned, before sitting up and putting a hand to his head. Looking at his fingers, there was no blood, so he was probably okay. He climbed to his feet in time to see Charles slam the door to the house. He stumbled slightly, a bit dizzy.

Sam sighed, wondering how to get in. There were no windows on the ground floor, except for the boarded-up one. No chance of getting through that. Though there was a small shed connected to the house, with a few crates stacked up next to it. Samuel quickly scrambled up the wobbly stack of crates and onto the roof of the shed. He walked over to the window, which was now in reach, and tried to open it. No luck. He was about to give up when he saw Charles walk into the room with the window. Quickly, Samuel ducked down, leaning on the wall just underneath the window.

"I'm such a fuck up. I made a friend, finally, and then I ruined it! I shouldn't have kissed him, now our relationship would never be the same again," Charles ranted to himself, unbeknownst to the fact that Sam could hear it all, "Why did I have to survive that duel? If John Laurens had a better shot, I could be dead right now. Wait a minute..." Charles paused, and Samuel was so nervous he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears.

Then, there was a gunshot. It rang out through the square, and any passersby looked for a moment at the empty building, then continued on. The gunshot rang in Sam's ears, his eyes wide.

He sprang up, jumping off of the shed roof and landing hard on the ground about 10 feet below, but his adrenaline levels were running high at the moment. He ran out of the alley, pushing past people until he got to the quiet safety of his hotel room.

Once he got inside, he took a deep breath, slowly and stoically walking to his desk. He sat down, picking up a pen. He was going to write to the king about what had happened.

My dearest,

And then he broke down sobbing. Tears flowed down his face and onto the paper, and he pulled his knees close to his chest. His only friend was dead, as far as he knew, and it was his fault. It really was, in his mind.

At least Charles was probably happier now.

[A/N: Damn this was edgy. But uhHHHh like a month after I wrote this I made some art to go with the chapter so uhhhHHH]