Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

May I Have This Dance?

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Warnings: Lots of dark stuff, death, sadness, breakdowns, near death, all that fun jazz.

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When Jefferson finally got them to the vent that overlooked the ballroom, he let the others in front to study the situation while he sagged against the wall and held his head in his hands and took deep breaths. He just needed to get his thoughts straightened out, that's all.

First this memory, he let it play in his head until it became a little more clear and then filed it away. No more of that. The room wasn't spinning as much now, but he was still nauseous and couldn't see clearly. Next was Hamilton and Laurens-no, he'd deal with that later. Now was for figuring out what this plan was. Jefferson rubbed his temples, the pounding in his head just wouldn't go away, he needed a long rest or something.

He felt a hand slide gently onto his knee, "Thomas," Jefferson opened his eyes to see Hamilton's face swimming over him, concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked. No, Jefferson was not okay.

"I'm fine," Jefferson said unconvincingly.

Jefferson's condition really worried Hamilton, once his anger cooled off for the most part and he realized how unsteady Jefferson was. Did the kiss really bother him that much? Maybe if he could just explain what really happened... "Is this about the kiss? Cause if you would just let me tell you what happened-"

"Hamilton," Jefferson cut him off, "It's okay. I'm sure you had your reasons or there's more to the story, we can discuss it at length later, but right now we really to focus on what's at hand." Jefferson smiled weakly up at him.

"Then what's bothering you?" Hamilton asked.

"It's not important."

"You can barely stand and you want to go head first into battle? You'll end up shooting yourself," Burr said from over at the vent, "Just listen to Hamilton and tell him whatever it is that's bothering you."

For once, Hamilton appreciated Burr's intervention because Jefferson sighed and looked at Hamilton. "I remembered something and it caused me to get disorientated. I'll be fine in a minute."

"You seem a little bit more than disorientated," Hamilton pointed out, "What did you remember?"

"Hamilton, as much as I'd love to discuss it right now, we've got to keep moving, Angelica is bleeding to death and-"

"What?" Hamilton breathed, Burr's head snapped around, they didn't know this.

"Angelica, she got shot and she's currently in the bunker. If we don't move fast enough, she won't live."

"Why didn't you tell me this!" Hamilton raged.

"There was never an opportunity," Jefferson replied, rubbing his temples again. He'd be able to stand again soon.

Hamilton was about to snap back but Burr cut him off, "We need to come up with a plan and fast," Burr said, "They're setting up a bomb."

"A bomb? Why the hell would they do that?" Hamilton asked.

"It's just like the war of 1812, burn down the White House, or in this case, the Presidential Manor, and you destroy the seat of power, the icon. It cripples the morale," Burr explained. "We've gotta do something and fast."

Jefferson quickly calculated everything they had. Hamilton had his rifle and his pistols, Jefferson had his pistols, and they both had blades. "Burr, do you have a weapon?" Jefferson asked.

"Of course. I have a gun. Who doesn't carry these days?"

"Adams," Hamilton replied instantly.

"Well, that would be why he's down there, in the ballroom, standing around like an idiot."