"How many drinks tonight sir?" the bartender asked.

"Three pints of Sam Adams." Aaron Burr replied.

"Thirsty tonight, aren't you?" the man chuckled, yet Burr didn't even crack a smile. The brewer frowned at him and got him his drinks without any more question.

Aaron stood and carried his drinks over to a lone table with three chairs, setting one beer at each seat, before sitting down.

"Waiting for someone?" The bartender called over to him, yet once again there was no answer.

Aaron took a swig off the alcohol, letting the acid flow down the back of his throat. He stared at the other two seats, he was in fact waiting for someone, two some one's actually. Yet, he wouldn't see them until he reached the other side.

Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?

Burr could remember the night he met the young enthusiastic male. How Alexander had approached him with such excitement, such zeal that he hadn't seen before. He remembered giving Hamilton some advise over a drink on how to better his career, until...

What time is it?

He could still hear Laurens in the back of his mind, followed by Mulligan and Lafayette backing their friend up.

Show time!

He remembered the three of them very clearly. He never really showed it, but he considered the trio to be his friends. He remembered how quickly they had bonded with the young immigrant too.  Burr had considered ordering five drinks, yet he was drinking to honor the dead. Mulligan was alive and well (or as well as he could be with two of his best friends dead) and Lafayette... God knows what shape he was in at that point, but the point was they were alive, Alex and John weren't.

He remembered John quite fondly, yes, he could be annoying, but he was a rather sweet individual. He was that guy who could sense you were sad and wouldn't stop bugging you until you let out your pent up emotions. 

However, he didn't have as many fond memories of Alexander, especially their most recent memories. But none the less, it... stung to know he was gone, and it stung even more to know it was his fault.

Burr took another chug of the beer, staring at the chairs in front of him. He imagined Alexander and John sitting in front of him, laughing and holding hands, just being happy.

If only... he thought.

"I'll see you both on the other side of this war..." he mumbled to himself and drank the last mouthful of Sam Adams.