Chapter Text
The time was now 22:00. Alexander's hand had long since begun cramping, his fingers tense around the quill as he scribbled furiously. Beside him, John slept, his head resting atop his folded arms on the desk.
The troops had seen very little action on the battlefield over the past week and so the two friends had decided to make good use of the time by composing more essays disputing slavery. Alex sighed, putting the quill down on the paper and flexing his fingers; stretching them out and then enclosing his hand in a tight fist before opening it to stretch his fingers again.
A chuckle from next to him caused him to quickly turn to the source. What he saw was a now awake John looking sleepily up at him from where his head was still resting on his arms. There was a small smile on his lips.
Giving a lopsided smile in return, Alex chuckled as well. "I thought you were asleep."
"Hm," John responded, closing his sleepy eyes. "The way you slammed that quill down sounded almost like a gunshot."
Alexander furrowed his brows. Had he really slammed it down? He'd only meant to lay it on the table. He sighed. "I'm sor-"
"Burr is right about you," John mumbled, his eyes still closed.
Alexander frowned, ready to defend himself if necessary.
"You write like there's no tomorrow," John opened his eyes now, and they landed on the hand that Alexander had once again closed in a tight fist. Sighing, he sat up and looked his friend in the eyes. "You need rest."
"What we need is supplies and money." Alexander didn't mean for his tone to sound so sharp, nor did he mean for his voice to be so loud. He really needed to work on that. Laurens was a friend after all.
John sighed again. "Surely the congress will send something soon. You poured your heart out in that last letter. If that doesn't convince them then nothing will."
Alex rested his elbows on the desk, laying his head in his hands. "That's exactly why I'm concerned," he said. Why didn't John seem to understand how grim the situation was? He was making light of it, and that would only hurt them in the long run.
"We've made it this far," John reminded him. "The general has had to make some tough decisions, but he's managed to keep us alive."
"Most of us," Hamilton said. "If he would just let me take the lead. All I need is a small group of men. We could do some serious damage to the enemy by employing just a few of my tactics."
John smiled. "And before long, we'd be home having another round."
Alexander smiled. "Exactly. He just doesn't realize yet what great things I can do."
"He will though." John placed a reassuring hand on Alexander's shoulder. "I think we've done enough writing tonight. Let's get some sleep."
Glancing down at the hand resting on his shoulder, Alexander felt himself relax. His shoulders slumped, he released the fist he hadn't realized he was once again making and he smiled at his closest friend.
John was truly something. Even amid the madness, he continued working to abolish slavery - a goal that would in no way benefit him personally. Alexander wondered if it was just a distraction for him, something to take his mind off all the death and despair surrounding them. He then wondered if that was his own reason for helping John. Or was it something else, another reason he wanted to spend as much time by his side as possible?
He sighed. He was overthinking, and they had an early morning. "Yeah, let's get some rest," he said, taking John's hand in his and wondering if he'd imagined the blush that spread across freckled cheeks when John smiled at him.