Slipping Into The Future

Chapter 14

Hamilton has dealt with quite a considerable amount of stress in his life but none of those moments compare to how he has felt in the past twenty-four hours, or so. He would rather not do this, he would rather sit in his home with his family and ignore the mere existence of the outside world. Why does there need to be a world outside of his home, anyway? All he would ever need or desire rests within those walls. The warmth of the fireplace, the smiles of his children, the love of his devoted wife who would do anything for him.

He finds he rather does not deserve Betsey.

His quivering breath fogs into the inky blackness of nightfall. He curls inwards and feels the brisk air stab into his heart and leave nothing but icy demons reminding him of his worth; or in his particular situation, his lack of worth.

Lin and Jon follow nearby and they stay low, looking to him as a commander — as someone to aid and respect. They threw away their lives for him and what does he give in return? Hostility, rage, and confusion.

Hamilton's core hums a hypnotic melody, ticking like a clock until his inevitable demise may take him to the graves of men who do nothing but spill poison upon the world as if they be clumsily tossed over a beautiful parchment of life akin to black ink. He has stained the page and feels a numbing sensation overwhelm his very soul as they press up against the building, panting defeatedly as if his breaths may redeem the errors of his ways.

He snaps his head when he feels again; a strong hold upon his shoulder. Lin stares into his eyes with a gaze that seems determined, if not utterly exhausted. He blinks languidly as Lin lifts a curious brow at him.

"Well?" Lin whispers, his voice barely carrying with the crisp breeze of the winter eve.

Hamilton unwillingly shivers from the chill. "Jon and I will retrieve the clothing and any other supplies we may need. You are to survey the area and forewarn us if there be any passersby," he orders with a gravelly tone. Gravelly like rocks and dirt — where he may be buried one day like every other godforsaken human in this world. "Do you believe you could handle such a task?" He had not intended to make his tone so condescending, but he feels as if he be a floating spectator sinking further into oblivion as he claws and punches at Lin's ego, begging for him to bite back so he may feel anything again.

"I feel like I can smell your moodiness seeping off of you like the stench of cologne," Lin quips faintly, his eyebrows furrowed as he examines Hamilton with distaste. "Ironically, we actually don't have time for you to be an asshole when we're about to break into a fucking colonial army building to steal uniforms and supplies."

Hamilton snarls. "I am collected. Perhaps you project your own errors upon me as if I be a marionette to your deity." Hamilton snorts un-amusedly — nothing stirs within his core and he desires to ignite the flame again. He harrumphs, shaking his head and looking over the side of the building. "That is how it be with your play, is it not?" He looks sharply into Lin's black eyes. "I am but a character to mock and assume the identity of, thus erasing everything that had once made that man a person?"

"Guys, can we not fucking do this here?" Jon hisses, his foggy breath blowing away while a sharp breeze peels at their dried skin. "We follow your plan, get the hell out of here, and then we can go at each other's throats with negative play reviews, hmm?"

"Sounds good to me," Lin replies with his lips curling downward.

"Splendid. Let us get on with it, then," Hamilton instructs before taking one last glance over the side of the building. He signals his time-travelling companions to follow him with a swift gesture of his hand before sprinting around the corner.