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

LI: Sixty-Two Left Alive

"The other soldiers let him?"

"Yeah... They said they didn't want to intervene. They were put off by the blood on his uniform. And... and they thought that maybe the ten civilians should be put out of their agony; they were begging to be killed anyway. So he killed them... He and the rest of the unit burned up the corpses and scattered the ashes out on the streets. He's never spoken about it since."

"Did Lafayette ever face repercussions?"

"No... He never did, and he never will."

"God..."

"The saddest thing is that I used to think he was brave for that. I thought it took a lot of bravery to hurt others. To make others want to die. I thought that what Lafayette did to the innocent somehow made Lafayette courageous. So I thought he was brave. And I wanted to be more like him." Davidson scoffs at his own remark. "It was only recently that I put more thought into it. And I think I now know: that's not bravery. I don't know what it is — insanity? Whatever it was... I know it wasn't bravery."

I lean back, thinking about the entire story. I've gotten away with a lot — and I'll admit, there are plenty of things I shouldn't have gotten away with. But what Lafayette did... Holy shit, what's wrong with him?

"I guess you'll have to look up to someone else as brave," I comment slowly. "You need a heroic figure, don't you?"

"Yeah," he breathes. Davidson glances over at me. "Maybe I'll start looking up to you, (Y/N)."

♙♟♙♟♙

A base in Normandy. And by base, I mean five run-down tents on an open field set up in an hour. We arrived as the sun started rising. At that point, I was woozy from pain and loss of blood. Davidson offered me his shoulder, then we walked through the quiet base. Davidson called out for help. For a medic.

People came swarming out of the tents.

"Holy shit! They're alive!"

"Are you two all that's left?"

"Why is she wearing a red vest?"

I growled when I saw Molly emerge, carrying her camera, pointing it directly at me. She's recording me. Goddammit, no.

"Get that camera away!" I yelled, already swelled with contained anger and holding up my hand to block the camera. Molly jumped back and the crowd gasped.

She backs up a little, but her camera remains on me. I didn't mean to startle Molly, but I don't want this bullshit getting to the public. Knowing my luck, it will.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)!"

Alexander's voice catches my attention. I turn my head to my right, and I gasp when I feel a sudden force at my side. It's Alexander, and his violet eyes meet with mine.

"Alex-"

"Oh my God, what happened?!" He yanks me away from Davidson and scowls at the small man, who immediately shrinks. "What did you do to her?!"

"No!" I cry out. "He helped me!"

Alexander looks Davidson up and down, not seeming to believe that he could help anyone, not even himself. He ignores Davidson completely and pulls me along. 

"Come on," he whispers. "We need to get you help."

I'm brought into the largest of the tents, and I'm unsurprised to see it has been made into a medic tent. Make-shift hospital beds are packed inside the tent, pushed closed together — barely allowing any space to walk. Medics rush up and down the tent, tending to the two-dozen or so injured soldiers. All seem to be in pretty bad shape. Worse than me.