I woke up like any normal day, before sunrise. I shivered at the cold air and looked at Spada sleeping near my boots. Then I remembered it was the 23rd of December. I felt scared like there was a sense of impending doom breathing down my neck, waiting, begging for an opportunity to take a grasp of me and take me from the living world. Sure, Burr had said I wasn't going to die, but he also said that he and Theodosia were friends. Friends don't exactly get married and have children. I grabbed some food for Spada, as an extra treat and left it out as I got ready for the duel. I picked up my pistol and looked at it, remembering to bring extra bullets. I took a deep breath and met Burr near the path to the field.

"For a moment, I was worried you weren't going to come. Hamilton and Laurens are already at the field," Burr said, laughing a bit. I didn't return the gesture, still terrified out of my mind.

"I swear, you aren't going to die," Burr promised, holding my arm gently. I nodded, smiling the best I could. We reached the top of the hill and my mind started to think of two things; seem strong and purposefully misaim. Maybe if it's bad enough, Hamilton could be hit. Or if Laurens does fire, I might be killed on impact, so I don't need to see whatever celebration Laurens and Hamilton no doubt have planned.

"I'm going to try one more time to talk Hamilton out of this," Burr said, handing me my pistol. I silently practiced how far I might need to misaim or to make it look like I at least had the intent to shoot.

"Lee is inexperienced and ruinous," Hamilton said as loud as he could to be sure I could hear. I contemplated shooting him right there but decided against it. Burr came walking back, looking defeated.

"So? Did you do it?" I asked, hoping that the look was to throw me off.

"No, I didn't. I wish you luck, remember, the doctor is here, he might have deniability, but he will help you," Burr reassured. I nodded, taking a shaky breath. I recomposed myself and stepped to the middle of the field. I wasn't sure how to look, so I tried my best to keep a neutral face, although it might have been almost angry looking. I was back to back with Laurens and did everything I could to not blush at the contact we were making. His curly hair felt good against my neck.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10," Hamilton and Burr said together. I went to shoot my pistol, but I felt something hit my side. I fell right to the ground, holding my side and dropping my pistol.

"B-Burr," I stammered out. I was going to call Laurens, but that would be absurd. Asking the man who shot you to assist you? That would be like asking your murderer to solve your murder. I held my hip tighter, feeling the blood cover my hand.

"Lee, do you yield?!" Hamilton called out, almost giddy about this situation. Someone grabbed me and pulled me into their lap. I assumed it was Burr because I had called out to him.

"You shot me in the side!" I called back angrily.

"Yes, he yields," Burr finished for me. He didn't sound like he was behind me, but closer to where the doctor was. I opened my eyes and looked at who was holding me. Laurens was looking down at me, clearly terrified. I reclosed my eyes as someone pulled my hand away from my new wound.

"Looks like it's just a flesh wound, he'll just need some bandages and a few days rest," the doctor said.

"If it's just a flesh wound, we should do a second round," I said. I don't know whether it was the part of me that wanted me to die in the moment or the part that didn't want to back down and lose to Hamilton. Either way, the idea was shot down quicker than I was.

"No, no, no, you need a few days' rest, like the doctor said," Burr said, using a hand to stop me from getting up.

"I'll be fine, I'm not dying yet, a second shot," I said, more determined.

"Lee, no," Burr said, sternly.

"I'd... rather not do a second shot," Laurens said. I sat up from his lap, trying to hide my wince.

"I have bandages in my tent," the doctor said.

"Alright, Mr. Fine, prove it by walking with the doctor to his tent," Burr said.

"I will," I said, not wanting to back away from a challenge. Almost immediately, my legs gave in because of the adrenaline and pain. Burr offer his support, which I took. As we were leaving, we heard Washington's voice yelling at Hamilton and Laurens. The doctor took me in his support and Burr went to explain what happened to me. A small gust of wind hit and I winced a bit at the pain burst.

It wasn't long until we were at the doctor's tent and I was laid on a cold cot. I relaxed down and closed my eyes, remembering the battle that put me into this situation.

~~ flashback ~~

I tried rushing past all the other running officers, away from the gunfire. Instead, I just tripped and fell. I didn't bother getting up, maybe this is how I'll die.

"Lee- DID YOU GET SHOT?" Burr called to me. I was about to raise my arm to show I was fine, but that could cause some trouble.

"I'm fine, just tripped," I said, moving my face from the dirt. It seemed Burr had left as I laid there, waiting for everything to end and be quiet. The gun fires ended and soldiers started counting our dead.

I stood up, scaring a few soldiers. My clothes were absolutely covered with mud and I was sure there was some blood on my face, but I could care less. I looked up and saw Burr laughing a bit at me. I flipped him off and wiped off the mud.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?!" Washington's voice called out.

"We were just retreating from the British," I said, proud of myself for saving these men.

"Why would you do that?!" Washington asked, clearly upset.

"We needed to, two of my officers walked off without telling me what they were doing, I couldn't just let 1/3 of my men try a full British troop, that is a death wish for thousands of men," I angrily said.

"You ruined our chances to defeat Clinton's troops! You were so damn confident in your reports, why couldn't you just hold this up?!" Washington asked, in the same angry tone.

"British troops are highly trained, it would've been a massacre, with only 13 thousand troops against 17 thousand troops. Your sorry excuse of a military stood no fucking chance," I yelled. I probably looked insane with the blood splattered across my face and mud all over my clothing.

"YOU chose to leave the British army for the Revolution, YOU said you would attack the British, YOU retreated, do you see the issue?! You're a coward, a damned patroon if you don't," Washington said, riding off to check on other soldiers. I wiped my cheek with my jacket sleeve, seeing smeared blood on the fabric. I smiled slightly, knowing it wasn't my own, and joined the rest of the recruits.

Plastic Promises // LeerensWhere stories live. Discover now