[Historical] Laurens being jealous of Andre, please? (Also I love the helpless trilogy, you’re a great writer!)
Thank you!! I'm so glad you love it and are enjoying it as much as I love writing it!
Ask and you shall receive!
***
It's early morning when Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens recieves news about Major John Andre's capture. Laurens sighs as he sets his quill down, holding up a letter he's translated from French into English, constantly dotting the "i" and crossing out the "t" with a smooth flick of his quill when the door bursts open to the front parlor of their new headquarters in Tappen, New York.
Laurens jumps, startled as he was not expecting this sudden interruption. Laurens stands abruptly from his seat, wincing when his kneecap hits underneath the circular wooden table, nearly knocking the inkpot over but luckily he manages to catch it in time. Laurens whips his head towards the door, raising an eyebrow at two Patriots standing in the doorway.
"Yes?" Laurens says.
"We've come to see the General, sir," says John Paulding, a man roughly in his mid to late twenties with smooth brunette hair pulled back into the traditional ponytail hairstyle, a stubble around his face and dark chocolate brown eyes.
"About what?" Laurens asks, clasping his arms behind his back.
"We've managed to capture an accomplice, more or less, to General Benedict Arnold," says David Williams, a man of the same age as Paudling but with dirty blonde hair and green eyes.
Laurens pales. "An accomplice?"
The two men before him part ways to allow a man in ordinary civilian clothing, his brunette hair smoothed back, his Jedi-like braid resting gently behind his ear. Laurens frowns, eyeing him suspiciouly as the man before him grins, the corners of his lips quirking upward slightly. Laurens swallows, a weird feeling about this man squeezing his chest.
"Ah, you must be Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens," the man with the Jedi-like braid behind his ear says. His voice is smooth, elegant, formal, followed by a heavy English accent. He extends his hand out towards Laurens to shake as best he could with both wrists bound together by rope.
Laurens shakes it polietly nonetheless. Laurens frowns as the man before him grips his hand tighter than usual before releasing and entering the office.
"Who are you?" Laurens asks, his voice quiet and hushed, arms stiff at his side.
The man turns from the window in the office and glances back at Laurens over his shoulder, a smirk on his face, his brown eyes twinkling against the early morning sun reflecting from the window pane. He walks swiftly towards Laurens, smooth and graceful, much like a dancer.
"My name...?" the man says. He laughs through his nose. "My name, sir, is Major John Andre. A pleasure to meet your aquiantance, Lieutenant Colonel Laurens."
Laurens eyes Andre for a moment or two as Andre walks around the room, glancing at framed photographs along the mantel above the fire place before turning back to the two men at the door. He leans close to them so that only they could hear, his voice low.
"Tell His Excellency I have Major John Andre held at the parlor in the headquartes as we wait for him. And bring Colonel Hamilton as well if you will," Laurens orders.
The men nod, shiftingt their rifles to the other side of their chest, followed by a curt, "Yes, sir," before exiting the room, the door clicking shut behind him
"Colonel Hamilton?" Andre says.
Laurens becomes stiff at the mention of Hamilton's name as he still faces the wooden door, his back to Andre. Laurens keeps his gaze firm, his shoulders squared and jaw clenched. He licks his lips, dry from the lack of kisses his darling Hamilton has yet to give him.
"I've heard such the name," Andre whistles. "A myersious one don't you think? Handsome, intelligent, clever I'm sure. But what of his upbringings?"
Laurens stiffens. "You don't need to that."
He turns to Andre as he spins around on his heels slowly.
"And you do?" Andre questions, raising an eyebrow.
"I am his friend," Laurens admits. "He trusts me with such information."
"Lucky you then," Andre hums before turning back around to gaze out the window.
Laurens growls low, his eye twitching as his fists curl and uncurl at his sides.
"What of your upbringings, Lieutenant Colonel?" Andre asks all of a sudden, still gazing out the window.”I know you’re a man of honor.” He glances back over his shoulder at Laurens. He raises an eyebrow as he walks towards him. “Eldest son of President of Congress Henry Laurens. A South Carolinian, for sure.”
Andre taps Laurens’s lapel.
“A fine gentelman you are,” Andre says.
Laurens clenches his fists and hid them slightly behind his back to keep himself from causing any chaos or alarm. Laurens glowers at Andre, his eye twitching,
A few a minutes of empty silence, however, the front door to the parlor opens up with a bang, causing both Andre and Laurens to spin around on their heels to find His Excellency, Geneal Washington, and his aide-de-camp Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton by the door.
Laurens puffs out a breath of relief, grinning at the sight of his Hamilton before him. Hamilton skims the room smoothly and freeze when his eyes lands on Laurens’s behind Andre. Hamilton raises an eyebrow at Laurens, nodding his head towards Andre. Laurens’s shrugs and mouths: “Accomplice.” Hamilton nods in understanding.
“What is the meaning of this?” General Washington bellows, his expression stoned-face and posture stiff.
“Ah! Your Excellency, sir!” Andre says, bowing respectfully with his wrists still bound by the rope in front of him. “An honor it is to meet you. I am Major John Andre, sir. A--”
“An accomplice to General Benedict Arnold?” General Washington interrupts.
Andre’s mouth hangs open in an “O” shape but doesn’t close. Hamilton frowns as he eyes Andre, tilting his head to one shoulder as he pulls out the papers the two Patriots had found in his boot.
“These here were discovered in your boot,” Hamilton says, holding out the papers. He clears his throat awkwardly, feeling his cheeks grow warm when he meets Andre’s eye and glances back down to read the papers. “It says that you were returning from a secret meeting with General Arnold, commander of West Point.”
Andre finally clamps his mouth shut and keeps his lips firmly together as he watches Hamilton read the important notes while Laurens keeps a close eye on Andre.
“Who had offered a sunnder to the Hudson River fort to the British for a bribe of 20,000 pounds...” Hamilton’s voice trails off, his eyes widen.
He turns to the General beside him.
“Sir?” Hamilton says.
Laurens feels himself slumping at the soft sound of Hamilton’s beautiful voice.
General Washington stares at Major Andre for a couple of moments, his stance and expression never changes throughout.
“Bring him to my office, if you will. I’d like to talk with him privately,” the General says coldly.
Laurens’s swallows as he mutters, “Yes, sir,” and winces when the General’s coat flaps behind him, a whoosh of air followed next. Once the door clicks shut behind them, the three men remaining in the room all turn to one another.
Laurens stiffens when he sees Andre walk up towards Hamilton. Hamilton’s cheeks reddens, red as his flaming hair as Andre grabs hold of one of Hamilton’s hands and brings it up to his lips.
“You must be the beautiful Alexander Hamilton,” Andre whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the back of his knuckles as if he were greeting a woman. “And my...do you look absolutely divine...”
Hamilton stares down at Andre, unsure what to do as his eyes tick up to Laurens for help before back down at Andre again.
“I um...” Hamilton swallows. “You flatter me, Major.”
“Please,” Andre says. “Call me John.”
Laurens growls low as he practically hisses at Andre as the man walks by him. Andre freezes in place, staring at Laurens confusedly before turning back to face Hamilton.
“So, Major,” Hamiltn says. “Tell us about yourself?”
“Oh! Well, for one, I am an artist,” Andre says as he sits down in the chair across from Hamilton.
Laurens siffens once more and hisses sharply, feeling somehow offended. His chest tightening with uneasiness.
“An artist?” Hamilton asks, impressed as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Yes,” Andre says, pulling something out from his back pocket. “Here.”
Hamilton hesitantly grabs the paper and smooths out the wrinkles. He sees the fine definition of a woman, her wavy hair curled up but some of it cascades over her shoulders. Hamilton notices the rough outline of her cheekbones, the curve of her lips, the sharp of her jawline, the arch of her eye. Hamilton gasps, stunned by the beautiful drawing before him, wondering who this woman is and what’s her story.
“Wow...this is...this is beautiful,” Hamilton gasps. He hands it back to Andre.
“No,” Andre says. He grins. “Keep it.”
Laurens huffs as he folds his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes as he watches the scene play out.
“What else?” Hamilton asks.
“Well, I can play the flute,” Andre says.
“Really?!” Hamilton gasps. An intrigued expression on his face.
“Yes,” Andre says. “I would show you but uh...there seem to be no instruments near.”
Laurens scoffs. “Oh, please.” This catches both Hamilton and Andre’s eye. Laurens swallows as his cheeks reddens. “I can...I can do the piano!”
“The piano?” Andre repeats.
Laurens nods, followed by a curt and sharp, “Yes.”
“I didn’t know of such,” Andre hums, leaning in his chair, his expression clearly amused.
“You didn’t need to know that!” Laurens hisses.
Hamilton sighs as he rolls his eyes with a soft smile on his face. He stands up and touches Laurens’s bicep in hopes it would calm him somewhat. Laurens whips his head down, glaring at Hamilton while Hamilton shoots him a challenging look.
Laurens finally gives in and grumbles something under his breath, folding his arms over his chest as he rolls his own blue eyes. Andre simply raises an eyebrow, glancing over at Hamilton.
“My apologies about him,” Hamilton says. “He’s simply...” He glances at Laurens before back to Andre with a kind smile on his face. “Jealous.”
Laurens scoffs. “I’m not jealous!”
Hamilton gives him a look Laurens can’t exactly read but shuts up nonetheless. Hamilton sighs lightly before turning back to Andre once.
“Gentlemen,” General Washington’s voice echos throughout the room as he stands by the doorway. The men stiffen and turn to the General. “Now would be the best time.”
“Yes, sir,” Hamilton mutters with a sharp nod.
He grabs Andre by the elbow roughly, whispering a quick apology, before guiding him towards the General’s office. As Andre passes Laurens, the two make eye contact and Andre winks at Laurens. Laurens growls and whispers to Andre, “This isn’t over.”
Andre just grins.
~~~
“Hanged!” Hamilton gasps as he stands up from his chair, slamming his fist onto the table, his eyes wide and face pale.
Marquis de Lafayette, who sits across from him, winces. Hamilton narrows his eyes at the General seated at the head of the table as he stares down at the map before him and Andre’s papers, thinking. Laurens and Tallmadge sits on either side of Hamilton.
“Hanged?!” Hamitlon says again, his voice squeaking. “He...Sir...he...he can’t be hanged!”
The General inclines his head slightly to meet Hamilton’s burning eyes, raising an eyebrow challengingly.
Hamilton swallows as he sits back down. “With all due respect sir, we can’t just sentence him to death--”
“What other option do you have, Colonel?” Washington says, his vocie stern. “He’s a spy.”
“I know, Your Excellency sir, but--” Hamilton is cut off short.
“The military board has agreed and have already decided on his fate,” Washington hisses, narrowing his eyes at Hamilton. “I have offered the British, however, to save Major Andre’s life by exchanging him for Arnold.”
“And?” Hamilton gasps, his face hopeful.
Laurens stares at Hamilton’s hopeful face, a small scowl betraying his calm expression and rolls his eyes.
“And they have refused,” Washington says calmly. He focuses his eyes now on the map before him. “Lest they dissuade others from the British cause.”
A pause. Washington glances up at Hamilton.
“The decision has been made,” Washington says. He glances at the other men seated at the table as he stands, therefore causing the other men to stand as well. “Major John Andre shall be executed as a spy on October 2.”
“Yes sir,” the men says simultaneously.
The General nods. “Dismissed.”
~~~
On October 2, Hamilton pays visit to Major Andre before his execution, Laurens trailing close behind him.
“You stay out here,” Hamilton whispers, his knuckles brushing briefly over Laurens’s.
“But Hamilton--”
“I said stay out here,” Hamilton hisses. “I know how you can be around him John.”
“But--”
“Stay. Out. Here,” Hamilton snaps, punctuating each syllable as he speaks.
Laurens sighs heavily as he grumbles something incoherently under his breath, folding his arms over his chest as he leans against the wooden log cabin. He watches Hamilton walk in and once the door clicks shut, Laurens mimics, “Oh, look at me! I’m Major John Andre. I’m so handsome and look! I can play flute and I’m an artist and I do lyrical and comic verse and now I’m about to be sentenced to my punishment as a spy and Colonel Hamilton’s coming to resue me!”
Laurens sticks out his tongue at the closed door. “Blech! Bite me!”
Laurens grumbles and huffs as he kicks a rock with his boot. “Stupid.”
A few minutes Hamilton finally comes out and closes the door behind him. Laurens frowns when he sees Hamilton’s pained look on his face.
“Hey, you okay, Alex?” Laurens asks, much calmer.
Hamilton glances at the door before back at Laurens before him. He presses his lips together and nods once. “Yes...I just wish...I just wish I could...do something...wish his life could be spared...”
Laurens opens his mouth to say something but clamps it shut when Hamilton simply brushes his shoulder as he walks by. Laurens sighs but follows nonetheless.
~~~
Major Andre is pulled up at his execution on the morning of October 2, 1780 by a carriage with Major Benjamin Tallmadge inside, seated across from him. The Continental Army had surrounded his execution site. A wooden box underneath a tree followed by a horse pulling a carriage. The sky overcast Hamilton notices, as he stands firmly stiff beside Laurens, his knuckles bushing discreetly agaisnt Laurens’s. Laurens grins slightly but keeps his mouth firm and eyes trained forward.
Tallmadge hops out of the carriage followed by Andre and grabs him by the elbow and drags him up to the site. Hamilton stiffens, his eyes wide as he watches Andre climb up the box. Hamilton sucks in a breath and holds it as he watches Tallmadge hand Andre a blindfold. Andre takes it bravely.
Andre breaths in deeply and holds it as he scans the men around him. He spots the General, earning him a sharp nod before landing his eyes upon the Marquis who stands beside the General. He sees Laurens, who’s expression is hard to read and Andre’s eyes freezes when they land on Hamilton’s stunning indiog-blue ones, sparkling with unshed tears, fear clearly written all over his face, his flaming russet curls pulled tight into it’s natural braid secured by the dark blue ribbon. A tricorn perched on top of his head.
Andre smiles and mutters, “Will be but a momentary pang,” as a comforter not only to himself but to Hamilton as well.
Andre puffs out a breath as he turns down to Tallmadge.
“Any last words, you may speak now,” Tallmadge says.
Andre slides the noose around his neck and ties the blindfold around his eyes and grins.
“Bare me witness that I may bare my fate like a brave man.”
A sharp snap is followed as crows caw in the distance. Hamilton yelps as he jumps, a whimper followed by as he buries his face into Laurens’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut. Laurens wraps his arms aroudn his Hamilton comfortingly, not caring if any other sees.
And Laurens?
He grins.
