Spilled Blood

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How to tell when you're reading a story by My-Dear-Hammy:

It tears apart your heart. Not to mention the dark, gruesome scenes. Mmm. Love y'all.

Don't mind me, just mentally unsound. Byeee.

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Warnings: Blood, cussing, bit of torture, a bit more than a bit of torture, life-threatening, stabbing, getting shot....again. Some more cussing and a detailed death threat, and some stubborn assholes.

Basically, not a light chapter. If you want a light fluffy book, probably shouldn't read this. I'll provide a summary at the end.

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Hamilton struggled to wake up, his world was fuzzy and his vision blurry. There was pain. Lots of pain in his shoulder. Why did his shoulder hurt? Oh, right, he got shot. Slowly, his vision came into focus, a cold, dark, damp room. He could hear water dripping somewhere and there was just enough light to see. He was propped up against a stone wall, his shoulder was bandaged, and there was a lump on the opposite wall.

"Finally awake?" a voice drawled.

Not a lump. No, he could see that now, the curly hair, the muscular build, that goddamned voice. Nope, that was Thomas Jefferson, slumped against the wall, every bit of that grace and elegance he carried himself with was gone. Of all the people Hamilton could be in this situation with and it had to be him. It was too dark to make out any good details but Jefferson seemed fine, assuming his slouched figure, supported against the wall was because there wasn't any point keeping up appearances.

"Where are we?" Hamilton asked, wincing as he shifted positions.

"Prison somewhere, I'm sure," Jefferson replied.

"No shit, Sherlock," Hamilton snapped.

"Fuck off, Watson."

"I meant do you have any idea specifically?" Hamilton asked.

"I'm in the same situation as you. Why would I know any more than you do?"

"Because you got us into this mess," Hamilton said.

"Me?" Jefferson asked incredulously, "I got us into this? You're the one who showed up in Virginia, loud as can be."

"They broke into your house."

Jefferson sighed, exasperated, "Listen, Hamilton, we're in a deep pile of shit right now and we need to start asking some better questions, like why would they throw us in the same cell?"

"Because they ran out of room. Or maybe they didn't want to waste the space on your worthless ass."

"Hamilton, pull your head out of your ass and think. This isn't the time for your stubborn shenanigans. No, I'll bet that they're listening to everything we say and are going to use it against us in every way they can. Think about it, government soldiers break down my door and kidnap two of the largest icons of rebellion. What's that going to do?"

"Break the revolution," Hamilton answered, "Without us, the people will lose hope and the ranks will break, allowing the government to sweep back in and retake control."

"Now you're catching on."

"Shit, Jefferson, we've got to get out here."

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Jefferson asked, rolling his eyes.

"Spite and determination."

"My God, just shut up for once."

"Well then, what do you propose we do," Hamilton asked.

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