They let him stay, if “let” is the right word for it. When he tries to get on the bed with Aaron, one stops him, pointing out the sodden wool he’d completely forgotten. “He’ll catch his death,” she insists, and then Burr makes another one of those distressed sounds, a wave of distress-scent flowing off of him. Hamilton is fully ready to strip down to smallclothes and stay that way in front of these strangers, but one of them presses a man’s worn nightshirt on him and he changes into it without any thought but getting back to Aaron.
He gets behind Aaron, cradling his husband against his chest. It means Aaron has to sit up just a little, but then he can just press his face against Hamilton’s throat, nose full of his scent. He can’t tell, not really, but it seems that this finally succeeds in soothing Aaron even a little from his feverish pain.
“Wish Jimmy wanted to stay so bad,” mutters one of the women, to another, “‘stead of running off, first sign of trouble.”
“This is an odd one,” the other says. “Doesn’t look like to faint, neither.”
Hamilton will be damned if he faints at a time like this. He has no fear of blood, except that it’s draining so prodigiously fast from someone so dear to him.
“He should eat?” Hamilton asks, and they affirm. He requests the honey from the saddlebag and they pass it along, cracking it open for him. He dips in his fingertips and brings them to Aaron’s mouth. “Come on, love,” he entreats, “stay with me. You’re so strong, so brave… Aaron, stay with me.”
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He gets behind Aaron, cradling his husband against his chest. It means Aaron has to sit up just a little, but then he can just press his face against Hamilton’s throat, nose full of his scent. He can’t tell, not really, but it seems that this finally succeeds in soothing Aaron even a little from his feverish pain.
“Wish Jimmy wanted to stay so bad,” mutters one of the women, to another, “‘stead of running off, first sign of trouble.”
“This is an odd one,” the other says. “Doesn’t look like to faint, neither.”
Hamilton will be damned if he faints at a time like this. He has no fear of blood, except that it’s draining so prodigiously fast from someone so dear to him.
“He should eat?” Hamilton asks, and they affirm. He requests the honey from the saddlebag and they pass it along, cracking it open for him. He dips in his fingertips and brings them to Aaron’s mouth. “Come on, love,” he entreats, “stay with me. You’re so strong, so brave… Aaron, stay with me.”