Zero Two Three One | John Laurens X Reader [Hamilton]

XVI: Fourteen Days and a Fire

"There's nothing I'm jealous over, Peggy," Vincent says sternly. "I'm simply looking out for you."

"I don't need you to look out for me. I'm old enough to take care of myself!"

"Let's move to a different topic, yeah?" Rory breaks in. "Umm, you guys like the weather?"

Despite his efforts, Rory is unable to stop their bickering. They go on and on for another five minutes, only stopping when I suggested we go visit Aragog's grave. The moment of silence was suddenly interrupted, however, with more bickering as Peggy accused Vincent of causing Aragog's death. By the time we returned to the lineup of soldiers, Peggy started giving Vincent the silent treatment. It was better than their arguing.

It's odd. As far as I recall, they don't argue often. And when they do, it's never this venomous. It must be all the tension in the freezing-cold air killing everyone's mood. We've been out here for what seems like years waiting for Burr to return. Where the hell is he?

Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear...

All at once, the gaggle of soldiers and I turn our heads at the sound of an oncoming Ocelot. It drives by us and into its respective place among the other Ocelots. A moment later, Davidson comes out of the driver's side and Burr from the passenger side. They slam the door behind themselves, and I can hear the frustration in the volume of the slam.

I wince and glance at Alexander.

"What the hell do you think has their dicks in a twist?" I whisper. 

Alexander shrugs. "I don't know... Do you think we should find out?"

I glance at Vincent and Rory, who are trying to say controversial things in hopes of getting Peggy to speak, so I decide they're occupied. All the other soldiers are also occupied with their conversations, excitedly speaking as they strap their helmets more securely to their heads.

"Sure," I nod. "Let's go before anyone notices."

Alexander and I masterfully slither through the crowd, not bumping into a single shoulder or brushing a single elbow. We pass by like a shadow, and in no time, we're making a hot pursuit behind Burr and Davidson. They reach the group of bickering Generals. Their presence seems to bring calm to the ever-stirring storm. 

Alexander and I stay behind one of the Ocelots, hoping to overhear their conversation without being caught.

"Wotcha, mate?" Lee greets.

"What's the news?" Lafayette asks, sounding annoyed that his argument was interrupted.

"Well, we have good news and bad news," Davidson says somewhat timidly, shrinking in comparison to the already-small Burr. "Which one do you want first?"

"Good news," John responds.

"Bloody fucks, I want the bad news first, dingus," Lee argues.

"I want neither," Lafayette hisses. "I just want to get out of this godforsaken cold."

"Go piss on a tree, cunt. You're a proper pussy, that's what you are," Lee hisses.

Lafayette responds with a jumble of French words, which I suppose created a horrible insult based on the way Davidson winced.

"Shut up and listen," Burr growls in an uncharacteristically-demanding way. "The bad news is that Washington doesn't want us anywhere near Moscow."

The three Generals make a similar face to the one Alexander and I make. Our eyes widen and jaws drop in utter shock. What the hell? Surely we heard Burr wrong. Surely he has the wrong message for us.