You make me sick

That (11)

This picture has nothing to do with anything, I just really liked it lol

Jefferson

Three hours.

Forty six minutes.

And thirteen seconds.

He was supposed to be back exactly one hour, forty five minutes, and thirteen seconds ago. Well, fourteen as of now.

I sigh and flop onto the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels. I'm about to skip the news, when I see a pansexual pride flag. Then the ambulances. Then someone who looks a lot like my smol bean getting in a fight. 

Oh my God.

~~~

Laurens

"Laurens, Laurens, wake up."

"No, Mom, I'm tired."

"Laurens, I am not your mom. Get the hell up, you have a kingdom to attend to."

"You know, you're not very nice for someone serving the ruler."

"My apologies sir. If you don't get up, you'll miss the arrival." I crack open one eye to see my trusty servant Carl, standing by the edge of my white bed in front of the golden light sifting in from large arches along the balcony, that lead into a courtyard where turtles mill around aimlessly. 

"The arrival of who?" He shakes his head, bestowing upon me a plate of random fruits that I've never heard of cut in the shapes of my favorite slow and green animal. 

"Not who, your majesty, but what." I've been serving this kingdom for only a few hours, and already it's exhausting. Don't get me wrong, ruling over the nation of turtles is amazing, but this king needs his naps. 

"Alright then. The arrival of what?" He smiles sadly, taking my hand and pressing something cold into it.

"Reality."

~~~

Hamilton

I gently take the stone cold hand of John, biting my lip and fiddling with his fingers. He twitches softly, and for a moment I think he might wake up, but he doesn't. 

Laf simply slouches in his chair and blinks rapidly while Hercules leans forward, staring at John intently. Peggy is curled up in the third chair on the wall, staring blankly ahead at nothing in particular. 

According to the doctor, the good news is that he has an okay chance of surviving. Like that's supposed to help? I need a good chance, not a okay chance! They had to have a quick surgery to remove the bullet, so he's pretty wiped out. I'm surprised they didn't take longer, but I'm not complaining. I swear, when we leave from here, his father is going to have a broken everything.

Laf starts to tap his foot softly as I turn back to Laurens, scanning over his features carefully. It may be the very last time I see him so still. Or maybe it'll be the first of many.

He's just as pale as before, his hair pulled out from the ponytail and billowing out around him on the pillow. I subconsciously reach up to tuck a curl behind his ear, a reflex. It's shocking how wet it is from all the sweat. 

And the bad news, you may ask? Well, first off, he was shot straight in his damn stomach. That's never good news, unless it's George or Seabury. Through one of the lower ribs, shattering it, and dangerously close to his right lung. Oh, but that's not all. Did you seriously think it was just his rib being broken?