History Has Its Eyes On You ~ A Hamilton Fanfiction (Book 1, Act 1)

Migraine

(Y/N POV)

My sweet Sophie,

I'm glad to have been informed that you arrived back into N. York unharmed, for it still bewilders me that Gen. Washington allowed you to travel alone. Nevertheless, Lieutenant Col. Hamilton has been tremendously saddened by your departure, and has pleaded to return home. I am currently unsure as to if he has written to you also, but I would wish so.

Thankfully, we are dismissed from this war on November 2nd, and my wife and daughter are coming to visit. It would be an honour to introduce you to the both of them, as we believe that the Gen. is arranging a ball for November 9th. Your uncle will be permitted to take part, henceforth you and your sister both could come along with him. Gen. Lafayette may be participating, so you can catch up with him.

But besides everything, my sweet, I cannot wait to see you again. It would be such a pleasant experience to see the both of our families connect, and I look forward to meeting your sister.

Safe travels.

- J. Laurens

~

5:42am. I sat at the dinner table, carefully intaking a bowl of porridge. I wanted to sleep, but couldn't. My head throbbed with such ultimate force that it distracted me from my daily routine. This was no headache: a migraine, more alike. Thankfully it wouldn't be worsened by the chaos of the factory, and I'd be downtown handing out leaflets for the war. But as drowsy as I felt, I couldn't bring myself to sleep.

I heard the stairs creak, but my head wouldn't turn. I couldn't risk suffering further pain. Mrs Taylor appeared, sitting herself down. "So I heard that you had left to find a potential future husband, am I correct?"
I wanted to laugh for this stupid excuse, but the pain stopped me from doing so. "That is correct."
"Any luck?"
I thought back to how David had pretended to be my 'partner'. "Yes, actually."

"What is his name?"
I pinched the side of my head, feeling like a thousand bullets were being shot into me all at once. "David."
"Mr David...?"
"David... David Hasselhoff." I lied, thinking of the first name that came to my head.

"Oh, Mrs Sophie Hasselhoff! Doesn't that sound lovely!" Mrs Taylor exclaimed.
"Yeah, yeah, sounds brilliant." I tossed my spoon into the bowl, having enough of eating. "When are we handing out the leaflets?" I grunted.
"Are you alright, Sophie? You look terribly sic-"
"I'm fine." I mustered. "Just please, when are we leaving?"
"8 o'clock, I believe."

"That's two- three- two hours..." I stuttered, my mind jumbled.
"Why don't you go to rest until then?" she implored, "It'll be a long day ahead of you."
"Uh-huh..." I brought myself up, and instantaneously, the world spun before me.
"Do you need help back into your room?"
"Nono I got this." I mumbled, losing my speech.

I grabbed ahold of every object I could find to stabilise myself, leaning against the door frame. "Dear, you're sure you're alright?" Mrs Taylor asked with concern.
"Yeeeep." I slurred, continuing on. I seized the railing to the stairs with both hands, treading up each step with caution. Reaching the top, I collapsed onto the bedroom door, just barely catching the doorknob with my hand.

"Ughhhhhhh..." I turned the doorknob, crawling over to my bed as I quickly checked that everyone was asleep. I climbed into bed, shutting my eyes in agony.

~

I wobbly dressed myself up, my eyes carelessly drooping. Due to everyone being awake at this point, I tried to casually walk on down the stairs instead of making myself look like a fool. Alas, of course, it didn't work. My heart skipped a beat as I missed a step, and I clutched onto the railing for dear life.

"You alright?" Charles chuckled, readying a stack of leaflets.
I nodded shakily, eventually reaching the end of the stairway. I'd managed to drown myself into sleep for the last hour, but I'd woken up much worse. No longer bullets, but wrecking balls were simultaneously smashing into my head at once.

I noticed an even pile of leaflets left for me to take. On each cover was the same propaganda, promoting the war:

On looking at it, I almost tipped over, but Charles hooked his arm around mine. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he whispered.
"Nothing, I just... lost my balance." I lied, supporting my own bodyweight again.
"You've lost your balance twice in the past minute, are you certain you're alright?"
"Stop worrying about me." -I gulped- "I'm good."

"Sophie! Charles!" Mrs Taylor waddled over, bringing her own supply of leaflets. "We'll be heading to the town square. There is an event going on, so there will be plenty of people to talk with.

Are you both ready?"

"Yes." We replied with no confidence whatsoever.

~

Charles had kept close to me, for he could detect that something wasn't right. But I was determined to do this, for if I didn't, I'd lose my honour towards the war. No illness was going to bring me down, no matter how vital it really was.

We observed the town, a band of musicians playing classical music. Citizens were enlightened, feeling the need to dance along with their partners. Children laughed along, imitating the musicians as they played.

We took place in the centre of the town, facing the crowd. The only positive thing I could say about today was that I got to miss my first day back at the factory. Sure, Mr Cogswell wouldn't be happy, but I'd rather be serving the country than sewing clothes.

As time passed, we'd provided a range of leaflets to countless young men. Out of politeness, they took them, but we soon started to notice those same leaflets flying about in the wind. "This isn't boding well for us..." Charles admitted.
"I'm sure that we should merely talk a bit more, engage with our crowd." Mrs Taylor tread over towards the musicians, where people were too busy dancing to pay any mind to us.

But the music rang through my head, sending a signal for the migraine to worsen.

The laughter of the crowd echoed.

I slapped my forehead to stop playing games on me.

It grew harsher.

"Y/N, you're shaking..." Charles' voice called out, but I could barely hear him.

The ground shook beneath my feet.

"I'm... fine..."

"No, you're not!"

I gained the sudden urge to vomit, stars blocking my vision.

"Yeah, I'm..."

I blacked out, hitting Charles' shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

If I'm gone for a few days, it means that I've been dragged into this 30°C heat and I'm likely dying.