Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

Broke

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Warnings: Death, blood, threats, cussing, mental torture,

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"You know, when I came to Virginia and decided I might have to get a roommate, this is not what I had in mind," Hamilton stated. After a moment he added, "At least the rent's free."

"And free food too," Jefferson said, grimacing at the disgusting pile of mush on his plate before shoveling it into his mouth.

"No electric bill. Or water."

"No mobs that try to kill you when you walk out the door."

"Just an occasional dick of a soldier."

"And all you have to do for admission is get shot."

"And lead a rebel army."

"Not half bad, I'd say."

"Not bad at all."

They both laughed.

Neither of them knew how long they'd been imprisoned. Neither of them knew what was happening in the outside world. If the revolution was still alive or if it was crushed. The war was over, why did this happen?

Because it wasn't over. It was never over. Nothing is ever over so easily. The rebels won a huge victory and everyone assumed it was the end of it all. The Government had other plans apparently, which evidently included kidnapping two of the heads of the rebel cause. Two of the greatest icons. It would have been a devastating blow to the cause. How many were still fighting? How many had given up? Hamilton wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

He was restless, he didn't understand how Jefferson could sit still for so long, how having nothing to do didn't drive him crazy. He just sat there and hummed. Hummed, always with the humming.

At least it wasn't silent. Humming was better than silence. Eventually, Hamilton started humming along. It was a tune he knew and it kept him occupied, so why not?

Hamilton paced, hands clasped behind his back. Jefferson sat in the corner, back straight, eyes closed. Hamilton stopped in front of him. "What are you doing," he asked Jefferson.

"Thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"Lots of things."

"What kind of things."

"How to build a new nation."

"No, don't think about that," Hamilton said.

"Why not?" Jefferson asked, cracking an eye open.

"Because you suck at it, T. J."

"And you're even worse, Publius."

"You're insufferable."

"Alas, you're stuck with me. Roommates, remember?"

"Asshole."

"Bastard."

Hamilton sank against the wall, resting his head against the cool stone. He wished he had his cello. Just as Jefferson wished he had his violin. The nothingness was getting to both of them, Hamilton just showed it more.

***

"Je ne peux pas attendre pour voir la couleur à nouveau. J'en ai marre de ces murs gris et de ces sols crasseux. Je veux voir les jaunes et les verts du printemps. Champs rouges de fleurs. Arbres ondulant dans le vent. Des étendues sans fin de plaines d'herbe. Je veux emmener mes chevaux et galoper à travers eux, puis pique-niquer au sommet d'une colline.(I can't wait to see color again. I'm tired of these gray walls and grimy floors. I want to see the yellows and greens of spring. Red fields of flowers. Trees waving in the wind. Endless stretches of grass plains. I want to take my horses out and just gallop through them and then have a picnic at the top of a hill)," Jefferson said with a soft smile.