Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

Passing Time

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Warnings: Cussing mostly

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Question of the hour, or day, or week, Hamilton didn't know, question of the time then, How do you pass time in prison? But that's not all, how do you pass time in prison with someone you couldn't care less about that couldn't move due to a gunshot wound received when they were kidnapped by the government's lapdogs?

Talking. That's basically all you could do. Sometimes Hamilton couldn't even do that, Jefferson wasn't always able to. He slept a lot, trying to recover from his blood loss. Those soldiers really did a number on him. Hamilton realized he'd been the one to get off lucky. Even if he couldn't really use one arm, he could still walk and move around. Jefferson was pretty much constrained to the floor.

He didn't know how many days had passed, but surely it had been at least a week or two since they had been dragged out and interrogated. Food came irregularly, so there was no telling by that. At least food came. Awful as it was. It gave them strength.

At least their captors had treated their wounds, if they hadn't, Jefferson would probably be. Maybe. It seemed like whoever did that to him and had woken a hellfire that wasn't going to be easily put out. Hamilton could see it smoldering, waiting for the chance to burn everything to the ground.

It was a bit terrifying. Maybe Jefferson was harder to kill than Hamilton originally thought. Either way, they were healing, and they were healing well.

***

Time passed in an endless blur. Every now and then, one of them would be dragged from the cell, but it seemed like their captors were trying to break them mentally now, instead of physically.

Jefferson was finally moving around again, which was good, that meant they could work on their escape plan.

There wasn't much of one.

They didn't have anything to form one off of. They didn't have anything to turn into a weapon, they didn't have a pattern to work around, they had nothing. Just the clothes on their backs. Perhaps they could choke their prison guard or maybe hold him hostage. That wouldn't get them very far though.

"Hey Jefferson," Hamilton said suddenly, breaking the silence that had descended on them.

"What?"

"What's the first thing you're going to do when you get out of here?"

"Eat a shit ton of macaroni. You?"

"Coffee."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, coffee." A pause. "Then what?"

"After my macaroni? Rain hellfire and damnation upon every government bastard that locked me in here."

"I like it. Seems kinda extreme for you though. You've always seemed strictly political."

Jefferson shrugged, "Things change."

Hamilton nodded and returned to silence.

***

The door clanged open startling Hamilton and Jefferson from their slumber.

"Oh goody, visitors," Jefferson drawled.

"Have you come to beat us up again?" Hamilton asked, blinking blindly against the light that suddenly flooded the room from the doorway.

"Mr. Hamilton! Mr. Jefferson! You're still alive! Thank God!" The man turned and shouted over his shoulder, "Yo! Freddie! Gabe! I found them!"

"Who are you?" Hamilton asked, getting to his feet.