Hamilton feels as though his heart is being crushed -- and, as his heart is no longer his, as it beats in Aaron Burr-Hamilton's chest, perhaps it is. He cannot draw breath. When Burr chooses not to take his comfort, it is painful; when Burr leaves entirely, it is agony. He is rejected. He has fought so hard for his family, for their integrity, their honor. Perhaps (a nasty part of him thinks) Burr preferred Jefferson, perhaps he wishes he never married --

No, it is just that his heart is breaking. He feels as though his family is wounded, suddenly, and that it may not be healed, maybe not ever. And Hamilton, Hamilton is simply so, so tired. He keens, softly and sadly, to himself more than to anyone else, turning over to press his face into the pillow, to muffle it.

What gave Jefferson the right to do this to them?

Why is this happening?

He finds that he is weeping. Ned's hand rests on his back.

This time, when Ned offers the laudanum, Hamilton does not refuse.

When Hamilton is unconscious, Ned goes to find Burr. Knocks, before he steps inside.

"Are you injured?" he asks. "Perhaps my foster-brother isn't in a state for it, but I worry about your health, as well. Even if you weren't wrestled to the ground by George Washington himself."