Eight Mortal Secrets [Hetalia Drabbles] (Completed, to be Edited)

XC. Ten Duel Commandments [Hamilton Crossover]

CAST

JOHN LAURENS - SPENCER FERRELL

ALEXANDER HAMILTON - DENNIS READER

CHARLES LEE - MARTIN RIDER

AARON BURR - HAYDEN NEUFELD

GEORGE WASHINGTON - LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT

MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE - ANDREW NEWFIELD

"One two three four five six seven eight nine!"

"It's the ten duel commandments. It's the ten duel commandments."

"Number one!"

Spencer Ferrell stepped forward to the audience, "The challenge: demand satisfaction. If they apologize, no need for further action."

"Number two!"

He frowned, "If they don't, grab a friend," Dennis Reader walked towards him, and Ferrell threw an arm around his shoulder, jostling him playfully, "grab a friend, that's your second."

Reader smiled mischievously, "Your lieutenant, when there's reckoning to be reckoned."

"Number three!" The scene changes to a training field, where they only ones not training are Ferrell, Reader, Hayden Neufeld, and Martin Rider. Rider and Ferrell stand as far away as they can from each other, while Reader and Neufeld walk towards each other.

Rider looks out at the two walking men. "Have your seconds meet face to face."

Neufeld stuck out his hand, "Negotiate a peace-"

Reader shook his head, pushing Neufeld's hand away, smiling, "Or negotiate a time and place."

Neufeld sighs, glancing at the audience sadly, "This is commonplace, 'specially 'tween recruits."

The seconds return to their respective men, "Most disputes die, and no one shoots! Number four!"

Ferrell looks slightly distraught by the news that no peace was reached, but he takes a deep breath and keeps his cool. "If they don't reach a peace, that's alright. Time to get some pistols and a doctor on site."

Reader and Neufeld each hand the doctor money, "You pay him in advance, you treat with civility." Reader explains.

Neufeld looks like he's gonna be sick, "You have him turn around so he can have deniability."

"Five!" The scene is now on an empty field outside of camp, the sun just barely providing any light this early in the dawn.

Rider fidgets nervously across the field from Ferrell, "Duel before the sun is in the sky."

"Pick a place to die, where's it's high and dry. Number six!"

"Leave a note for your next of kin," Reader explains as Ferrell writes a note to his parents and siblings, tears spilling down his cheeks as his hand shakes, "tell them where you've been. Pray that hell or heaven lets you in."

"Seven!"

Rider also has tears in his eyes as he holds onto his pistol with a white-knuckled grip, "Confess your sins, ready for the moment of adrenaline when you finally face your opponent."

"Number eight!"

"Your last chance to negotiate," The four men sing together as Reader and Neufeld make their way across the field, "send in your seconds, see if they can set the record straight."

Neufeld forces a pleasant smile, "Dennis."

Reader returns it, "Hayden Neufeld, sir."

Neufeld shook his hand, raising a brow, "Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?"

Reader shrugs, "Sure, but your man has to answer to his words, Neufeld."

Neufeld shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with a desperate sort of light to end this madness, "With his life? We both know that's absurd, sir."

Reader's eyes flash angrily, "Hang on, how many men die because Rider was inexperienced and ruinous?"

Neufeld sighs in defeat, "Okay, so we're doing this."

The seconds made their way back to their men. "Number nine!"

Reader stood a way off from Ferrell, so as not to get shot, though he was speaking to him, "Look 'em in the eye, aim no higher," Rider's hand was shaking furiously while Ferrell had tears streaming down his face, "summon all the courage you require, then count!"

"One two," he shouldn't have spoken about Beilschmidt like that, "three four," he should obey orders, "five six," he shouldn't have taken a position he wasn't fit for, "seven eight," he should control his temper, "nine," this was not worth killing him over.

Too late.

"Number ten paces!" Reader and Neufeld shouted, "Fire!"

The sound of two stray gunshots rang in camp, causing Beilschmidt and Newfield to look up for their battle plans.

"What was that?" Beilschmidt demanded.

Newfield sighed, "I have a feeling I know."