Title: By the Light of the Candle
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Hamilton
Rating: PG
Pairing: Hamilton/Laurens
Summary: Alexander doesn't take breaks
Notes: Happy birthday, Lady Korana

By the Light of the Candle

He knew it was pointless to tell Alex to come to bed. Though it was beyond late and the air inside the tent just as crisp and cold as without, there was no stopping the man when he was writing. And there was simply not enough room in the small cot they shared for the two of them, parchment, a bottle of ink, a quill, and all of Alexander’s thoughts. Still, John could not sleep well knowing Alex was awake and suffering alone just a few feet away.

With a moth-eaten blanket draped around his shoulders, John ducked under the flap that divided the sleeping area from the main portion of the tent. Washington’s aides-de-camp had desks and a few meager supplies at their disposal. By the light of one flickering candle in its holder on a table, John could see Alexander Hamilton hunched over, scribbling furiously at a letter. His body was shaking with chill but he used what energy he had left to keep his hand steady, his writing smooth though quick.

John said nothing as he walked over to Alex. He said nothing as he rested a hand first on the man’s shoulder then rubbed his hand in circles on Alex’s back. He said nothing as Alex’s body shuddered, hunching forward even further to aim two sizable sneezes into a handkerchief he gripped tightly in his other hand. “eh’hhhh… hehh-ehhhhh… hehhhHEHTCHUPPHHHH! HIP’TCHUFFFFF!”

John knew better to implore Alex to take a break, take a rest. Alexander Hamilton always did what he wanted. General George Washington himself probably would be unable to move Alex from this seat when the fury of words had taken hold, spilling straight from Alex’s mind onto the paper.

But John also knew that, untreated, this affliction Alex suffered from at present could ultimately progress into something far worse. They were short on medical supplies, short on rations, short on just about everything, actually. But there was a thing here at Valley Forge that John knew would make a difference.

He dragged a chair from the far wall of the tent over beside Alex. He lowered himself into it. Then he draped half his blanket as well as his right arm around Alex’s shoulder. He pressed himself close, lending not only the comforts of the blanket but also warmth in the forms of body heat and genuine affection. “My dear Alexander, you should have called for me. I do not wish for you to ever suffer needlessly.”

Alex’s hand with the quill stilled even as the rest of his body shook with shivers. The young man did not apologize, but guilt swam in his expression nonetheless. John’s fingers stroked the back of Alex’s hand that gripped the handkerchief. “Will you at least tell me when you need a new handkerchief? There isn’t much here, but I do have a few of those at least.”

Alex hesitated for a moment then nodded in agreement before giving into another fierce tickle. “hehhh-YEHTTchuphhhhh!”