(Mostly platonic but still sad- short and to the point...)
Much like his fathers coming demise, Philip meets his own as George comes to realize he wasn't going to shoot him.
But... does he die, though???
Philip Hamilton:
"Hello, Mr. Eaker, sir, how was the rest of your debate?" The late teenager asked quietly.
"Cut to the chase, Philip," the taller man spat.
"Got your gun!?"
"Ye-yes sir. I have everything. Just... waiting on your doctor."
Why did agree to his duel? Why is it that I'm going to let one of my best friends potentially kill me?
But I'm going to raise my gun to the air! That should put an end to the whole affair!
After all, I don't see why he's so upset over being Senator no longer. I voted as I saw best!
It's not my fault he's unstable, and angry, and cold.
He was my friend because I broke through his tough exterior.
He is still my friend because...
Well, there is no reason he should be considered my friend any longer.
But I'm too close to him now to kill him.
Not only that but he's got a daughter of only seven.
I can't do that.
Politics or not.
...
But what if he actually wants to kill me?
The letter I wrote to him wasn't long, but it was as well as I could manage, given my emotional state.
Dear Mr. Eaker-
Regardless if you were the one to indeed kill me, I never intended to hurt you and I still consider you my friend.
I might have become angry at one point at your disregard for any friendship we ever had enough to half heatedly pull the trigger- but not today.
I cannot do that to your legacy.
To your daughter.
Farewell, my friend.
Ever forgiving,
Pip Hamilton.
And with that quill I signed my forgiveness- and handed it to George's second.
George Eacker:
That idiot ruined everything.
My social position.
My job.
With his vote he ended everything I could have had going- it would have been a great opportunity for my daughter to go to school-
For my life to turn around.
And my privlaged little Hamilton friend just couldn't help a guy out.
Mother shucker.
🖤
I don't know if I'm here to kill him.
But I don't want to ever see his face again, either.
He's obsessed.
Loom at him! Pretending to pull the trigger on his gun!
Face full of determination-
So he is going to kill me.
Pip Hamilton you motherfucker.
I regret our friendship.
I take it back.
🖤🖤🖤
You will not be making an orphan of my daughter!
3rd PoV again-
Both of the boys gaze at the sky as someone yelled, 'Take first position!'
George had his hand on his gun and his eyes on the sky.
Pip had the gun-.he had loaded it with one shot-
A silver bullet.
An inside joke for him and George once upon a happier time...
1.
2
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9-
Philip turned around on instinct and pointed his gun high into the air.
George turned around and pulled the trigger as fast as he could.
Only in that split second did he see Pip with tears already in his eyes, his gun above his head- the bullet streaming in slow motion, sound and air moving around it.
George understood.
Pip never wanted this! He wanted what was best for America.
And hadn't he been depressed a few years back?
I understand now-
He sighed- but the gleaming light bouncing off the bullet caught his eye as it started to speed up back to normal time-
NO-
"WAIT!"
🖤🖤🖤🖤
I watch as Philip Hamilton absorbs that bullet with no change in posture-
But he drops the gun.
He closes his eyes and pants.
Blood is starting to stain his creamy white blouse as he falls over.
"No!" I yell- I try to run to him but they hold me back- my second, and Pip's friend.
I hear the doc mutter something and then Philip screams.
🖤🖤🖤🖤
The sound rings in my ears.
He is in pain- my friend is in pain-
And I watch as the doctor held Pip down to remove the bullet.
"No! Please let me go to him- at least for the bullet-!" I cry.
My second looks at his- and my tear gleaming eyes- and I can move forward towards him again.
"Pip! Pip-" I exclaim in anguish as I kneel down besides his bleeding form.
"G- g-" he tries to speak- but is interrupted as he coughs up a stream of blood.
"Sshhh, shh, Its okay- it's okay- save your strength-"
His blue eyes find mine- red hair now dirty.
"S... si- sing me... to sleep...?"
(Happy Hunger Games)
I grab his hand as I shift through old memories of scary childhood nights when momma would sing to me.
The last one comes to me and I softly sing to him-
Home is behind
The world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
I can see him struggling for breath- I take his hand.
Through shadow
To the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
I peer into his eyes as he starts to cough up more blood.
Mist and shadow
And more blood.
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall fade
...
And then Philip was gone.
I vaguely remember the next week after that.
But those first seconds weren't forgettable.
"Philip! No, please-" I choke back a sob and stroke his hair.
A voice cuts through my mourn.
"Where is my son!?"
And I fled.
But little did they ever know...
I memorized the letter they were never going to give me.
Thank you for forgiving me my friend.
I'll see you soon...
____<_<__<_<<<<<<_________
There isn't enough Pheaker angst out there.
Not romantic because I dunno what I think of that yet.
Have a great 24 hours!
Love from-
Child of the Cranberries-
Femancapsicle.
👻