The Waiting Game (Lams)

A/N

So I guess this is my first ever proper A/N of this book. So I'm a little shaken up. I'm ok. But. I can't talk about what happened. I can't tell anybody.

Uh well I made an archive of our own account if you want to check out my other Lams fic there. Updates for that one may be slow, but the chapters will be longer.

Back to the other thing.

My good, no best, no, my non-biological siblings Grace* and Beth* and Marie* came to my rescue last night. I never ever thought what happened to me would happen, but it did, and all three of these people were stellar in calming me down, talking me down, and comforting me. But the thing is? I don't know where I stand in this situation. My updates could become more and more frequent or less so, as I try my best to sort this shit storm out. I have another full chapter on its way I PROMISE! But if you want a sneak peek at my fic over on Ao3, here ya goooooooooooooooooooooooo

:) *Names from ANOTHER NORMAL DAY by TheFifthZilro 

Alexander POV:

It was cold and cloudy as Alex stepped out of the shelter early that morning. He clutched his jacket, drawing it as close as he could to his small, bony frame. His breath was visible in the dull morning air as the click of his boots rang out softly. He was escaping from this torn up kingdom, where he was going however, he had no clue. He had heard the stories of a magical kingdom called Yorktown, but he hadn't ever seen it. He kept walking until his feet hurt and he could barely breathe from exhaustion. His head hurt something awful, but he knew he had to keep walking until he found a good place to rest. He happened upon a small cave near the edge of a cliff. It was dark by that point, so he crawled into the small hole in the mountain and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. All around him fireflies light up the dark, creating a constellation for a weary 19 year old orphan. As he awoke, the air smelled of lilacs and the world outside was warm. He crawled out into the light, however he miscalculated how far he went and he tumbled down the side of the cliff.

The sounds of birds and the soft sand beneath Alexander woke him up. If he thought his head hurt before, he was sorely mistaken. Now it was pounding out a beat of pain. His arm was cut as well as bruised. He pulled himself to the side of the mountain and leaned against it, thinking about how he had gotten down here. Its way too warm out here for how cold it was yesterday he thought to himself, nursing his open wound and attempting to stand. His nose was no longer red at the tip, but now his shirt was a little stained. He scowled down at it, upset his only shirt was now torn and bloody, and of course he was hopelessly, undeniably, lost in the fucking woods of unknown, but certain, death. Or, in Alexander's case, not die because he couldn't seem to fucking die. Not with his mom, not with his village, and not now. He pulled out his journal to make sure it was still intact, seeing as it was his most valued possession, well, besides his top notch brain. It had some water damage sure, and a few crumpled pages, but other then that his journal, filled with his cramped, incessant, scatterbrained writing. Thousands of words, hundreds of stories and essays, each dear to Alex. A few doodles are hidden in tiny corners from different people, a few passing friends. Though he'd had the journal a total of two months, it was nearly full. In the past two years he'd had a total of seventeen journals. Each like the first, the pages full of his fears, hopes, thoughts.

He stood up again. He had never figured out where they had come from, and he always kept them. Now? All seventeen were gone, vanished as soon as the last page was filled up. He never could figure out where they went, or why they kept appearing. He gratefully used each and every one, pouring his heart out onto the pages like his life depended on it, like he was running out of time. Alex kept walking until he had to rest again. This time it was near a small waterfall. Without regard for where he was or who could be around he ducked behind the water and fell asleep in the small cave.

John POV:

It was late. Very, very late. John? He was the ultimate night owl. Ever since he turned fifteen he had lived alone in the section of the Kingdom of Britainica called Yorktown. Yorktown was not its own kingdom as many believed. No, Yorktown was cut off from the rest of the world. John had escaped from the major part of the Kingdom Britainica, a city called England and ran away to this forest. The forest was called New York. Earlier he had lived in another section of the realm called South Carolina. Slavery was all to common, and it sickened John to no end. The buying an selling of human beings was an unforgivable sin, a primitive illegality in John's book. The woods of New York were his home now. His actual house was built near a small waterfall he'd named Fandom Falls. Isolation was what he did best. Well, besides Eliza, Peggy, Angelica, Lafayette, George, Jefferson, James, Hercules, Vienna and Aaron. They'd joined him in his so called "isolation", all of them quickly becoming friends, well, mostly. He enjoyed the company, but at night he liked to be alone to look up at the stars. Occasionally Vienna, a small fifteen year old pixie who had run away from the King's Castle after being enslaved by the King himself, would join him. He didn't mind her company at all. She lived with him, often calling him her brother. She made sure he didn't challenge anyone, anyone being Charles Lee, to a duel and cooking. John might as well be a volcano because he always burned his food. So imagine his surprise when he found a small, torn up, scrappy, young, sleeping man was in the cave he usually went into to think. He was extremely surprised, in case you couldn't guess.