Hamilton One-Shots

29- Betrayed/Tomorrow (historical)

Inspired by BruhboiWritesCrap's message board (there was a thing and I wanted to write the thing)

Yes, I am well aware that I have 32,000,600 one-shot drafts (if you got that reference I love you)
And I should be doing my homework

ANYWAYS-

TW:
-Blood
-Death
-Gore (?)
-Benedict Arnold

(Get yo tissues)

~~~

Washington

The redcoats had stormed the camp and me and my soldiers were desperately fighting for the lives. We were a stubborn bunch, and we refused to give up, although we were clearly loosing.

I rammed a redcoats head with the butt of my gun and he fell to the ground, unconscious. I had run out of ammo a little while ago so the fight had devolved into hand-to-hand combat. (Which was not my strong point, if you were wondering)

More redcoats had surrounded me and I was actually starting to get scared. Actually, I was terrified- I got scared when the first redcoats entered my camp and attacked my soldiers.

I dodged a blow to the head and looked around to hopefully find some backup. I spotted Benedict Arnold, one of my most trusted aides, and called out to him.

"ARNOLD! A little-" fist to the gut "HeLp here!"

Arnold turned and nodded, running straight towards me. He ran up next to me and helped me fight the redcoats until they were all dead, unconscious, or had run away.

I let out a sigh of relief as Arnold... hugged me?

He had never been the touchy-feely type and I hated any form of public affection, but I noticed some tears on his face and let it slide- just this once.

I wrapped my arms around him but suddenly felt a sharp stab in my gut.

I let out a yell and dropped to my knees, clutching my stomach- and the knife sticking out.

I groaned in pain as I doubled over, put I forced myself to look up. Panting, I stared at Arnold with wide eyes. His face showed no remorse or guilt for what he had just done.

I felt another stab of pain and worked up the courage to look down at the knife- only to see my own blood coating my hands- dark and sticky.

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to throw up, before I fell to the ground. It hurt so bad and I couldn't- I couldn't hold myself up.

I layed flat ony back, taking rapit, small breaths as tears fell from my eyes.

The sounds of fighting dimmed and I realized the battle was over.

I stared at Arnold. "Why?" I whispered.

Arnold just stood there.

"The British actually pay me. And why do we even want a new government when we have a perfectly fine one in England? Who cares if King George raises tea taxes! It's tea!"