(Speeches, standardized tests and homework, oh my! *sarcastic*
[No, I haven't been updating just to see how many reads I could get.]
Yeah, that was why I couldn't update—sorry! And thank you for all the reads, comments and votes! It was the best Christmas holiday ever. Btw there's a little tiny shipping surprise with everyone's favorite ship—LAMS!)

"Sir!" Alexander ran uphill towards Washington. He had something in his hand—a small piece of paper.

"Hamilton?" The general asked in confusion.

Hamilton showed the note to General Washington, who read it quickly.

The first thing he said was: "The state of her handwriting!—Has she had schooling?"

"Er... I'm sure of it, sir. For one thing, everything is spelled correctly."

Washington let out a quiet laugh of surprise. "How does she know so much about us?"

"I don't know, sir, but I have a notion about it."

"Oh?" Washington raised an eyebrow, looking up at Hamilton. "You're certain it's not because she knew you for a year and a half? I pray you, do tell."

"Well, I think—"

There was a strangled yell, and John Laurens came around the corner. "Fight over something—down there!" He pointed someplace down the hill.

Washington, Hamilton and Laurens ran toward the place. Hamilton grabbed Laurens' wrist to speed up his running. Laurens, suddenly boosted by Hamilton's touch, ran faster towards the sounds.

Washington, naturally, got there first. "Private Shirtliffe!"

Hamilton stopped when he saw the sight. It wasn't the soldiers fighting savagely amongst themselves, or the shouting that rang across the camp. The thing that attracted his eyes was the small loaf of bread being pulled back and forth into rough, dry hands.

BREAD.

Oh, how he longed for food. He stared at the loaf almost wistfully as Washington broke up the fight and distributed the bread in tiny portions to the surrounding soldiers.

When he got his piece, Hamilton held onto it like it was his lifeblood. Which it was, really.

By the end, only Washington hadn't received a piece.

"Aren't you hungry, sir?" Laurens asked him as they walked back to the general's tent.

"Well, of course. But I have to put my soldiers ahead of—" He stopped as his stomach growled loudly. Clutching it, eyes wide, he tried not to look too embarrassed as he noticed Hamilton and Laurens shaking with suppressed laughter.

Laurens finally let out a giggle, unable to control himself, and soon Hamilton and himself were clutching each other, laughing hard. Washington chuckled at the boys' antics as some soldiers looked at them, a little astonished that their comrades were capable of laughing at such a time.

"Really, general, you should eat," Hamilton said as soon as they calmed down. "Who would be the general if you were ill? I'm sure they'd have a job trying to match your skills, sir."

"You never cease to amaze me, Hamilton."

He looked up hopefully. "Sir! Does this mean I can lead—"

"No. You're too valuable to the army. I apologize."

Behind Washington's back, Hamilton pulled a face at the floor.

John touched his shoulder. "Something the matter?"

"I can fly above my station, can't I, John?" Hamilton muttered, soft enough that Washington couldn't hear him.

"'Course you can. You've just gotta do something about it. Besides, Alexander, you're the closest friend I've got. I'll help you."

***

"Katherine! Katherine, wake up! You're late!" Angelica pounded on the door as I shielded my eyes from the sunlight.

"Okay, okay, I'm up..." I muttered, a little angry that I hadn't slept well because I was too worried about today.

Relax, you idiot. It's a step to being a doctor.

I stopped in the middle of pulling on my dress. You're gonna see people die. Did you sign up for this?

I shook my head, feeling a little squeamish. "An—Angelica, can you help me with my corset?"

I was in the carriage in half an hour, making my way to Pennsylvania. I stared at the coffee shop when the guys and I first met.

What are they doing now?

"Any news from the war?" I asked the carriage driver.

"None yet, miss. I hope they're doin' well."

"Me too. How much longer until we reach?"

"We've only just started, miss. About 5 hours on a gallop."

***

I took my place among the other women, wearing a uniform of white and a bonnet over my head. I rubbed my hands as a breeze blew by, trying to keep out the cold. It was an unusually clear, cold day; this didn't lift my spirits in the slightest.

The Matron was checking our health, seeing if we were fit to be nurses.

Please don't let my hands turn blue please please please—

I looked at my hands and saw that my fingertips were a faint blue.

Je suis screwed. I rubbed my hands together violently.

Matron came over and examined my hands, face, and tongue. "You'll do well," she said roughly. When the last of the women had been examined, Matron barked:

"Sisters! May I warn you that come the spring season, you will have been expected to learn the basic rules of wrapping a tourniquet around a soldier's leg. This job is not for the faint of heart, and you must accept defeat should it ever come your way. For those romantic fools here whose lovers break out into song while no skirmishes occur, I wish you equally as much luck in helping your lovers—if they get wounded—as I wish all the rest of you in helping the people who bleed and fight for this country. . ."

"Big on patriotism, she is," A woman whispered next to me.

"Really."

"Yeah, her 'usband went missin' in action back in '75. So she's tried to 'elp all the poor souls who've been snatched away by bullets, the weather 'n' such. Possibly to make up for 'er loss."

". . . A nurse's work is a hard one, and requires great skill and precision, quickness of mind, and—" Matron eyed the women, who bowed their heads as if they knew what she was going to say next.

"—An anticipation for the... graphic."

I shuddered, wringing my hands together. Swallowing, I looked up at the sky.

I need to be brave I need to be brave Ineedtobebraveandnotpassoutatthesight... I am a nurse. This is my job.

***

Five months later, ten of us and I were in the tent, tending to a man with fever, when the tent flap flew open and I heard gasping and choking.

Oh, no.

"There's a bullet lodged in his stomach! He's having difficulty breathing!"

NONONONONO—

The soldier was ushered onto a bed and as we rushed towards him, I could suddenly hear the gunfire and yells outside. Thankfully, it didn't sound like a major battle.

The soldier screamed as the surgeon did his work. When the bullet was out, the blood didn't seem to be letting up. The poor man gasped for air as he looked wildly at us, his eyes rolling back in his head. The water we gave him flooded out of his mouth as he coughed up blood, and the washcloth rolled off his forehead.

I gripped his hand in a panic and started whispering in his ear, seeing as there was nothing left to do for him.

"Hey, hey, look at me..." At the nurses' encouraging nods, I continued.

"Once upon a time, in a far-off land called Minnesota, there was a young man, not unlike yourself. His name was... was Gatsby. Mr. Jay Gatsby. One day he met a lovely woman called Daisy Buchanan.

"He fell so in love with her that when he went off to... to college and didn't see her for five years, he grew obsessed with her. And—and when Gatsby returned home, Daisy started to cry because she was so happy. They went off to his mansion, and fell in love all over again. . .

"Daisy asked Gatsby to come over to a window, and when he walked over, he saw the most beautiful thing in the world—the clouds were pink and the sky was gold, and the air was warm with the smell of flowers, and Daisy said to Gatsby—do you know what she said?" I squeezed his hand gently as he looked at me, begging for more. Tears pricked at our eyes.

"She said, 'I'd like to just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you around.'"

The soldier, with all the strength he had left, forced a dry, heaving, aching laugh, and then—

Then he was gone.

***

"I'm sorry I couldn't save him, Lafayette," I mumbled. We were sitting on a hill near a tree, looking mindlessly at the camp below. "He was the first soldier we ever received that had a bullet through—"

"Save it," Lafayette muttered. Noticing the hurt look on my face, he sighed. "Je suis désolé. It's just... I'm upset about the fact that we couldn't actually win this battle."

"Did the British—"

"Have more troops than us? Yes. We were outnumbered 1 to 8, at least."

There was a silence. "Why did you join nursing?"

"I... well..."

The question was lost in the sticky air. I looked up.

"Oh."

Stars, too many to count, were spread across the black sky. They were so bright and so numerous that my voice caught in my throat.

"Hm?—oh, wow!" Lafayette was also staring at the stars. "They're like John's freckles, non?"

"Er... that wasn't what I had in mind, but yes." We laughed.

"Back where I live, it's so windy and cold that there are always clouds in the sky. When I look out at nighttime I don't see many stars there. If I'm lucky to find any, they're so dull... not like these ones at all."

"Where do you live?"

"In a place called Seattle," I said mindlessly. Then I glanced back at the ground, realized what I had just said, and covered my mouth. "I-I mean—"

"Seattle? Never heard of it."

I breathed a sigh of relief, standing and stretching my arms. "Well, goodnight, Lafayette."

"Bonne nuit, Katherine."

Lafayette stayed on the hilltop for a minute longer. He thought he saw a little heart in a cluster of stars, and smiled as he thought back to Adrienne and their daughter.

Then, he stood, stretched, and walked back to his tent to retire for the night.

For all of you who read The Great Gatsby, I know Gatsby didn't go to college when he left Daisy. I just changed it to "college" so Katherine wouldn't have to say the word "war" in front of the soldier.
And I'm deeply sorry for that scene.