I can't just sit here anymore. I can't sit here, with nothing to do, and just feeling all the sadness. I know Hercules would have wanted me to get up, and do something. But I can't. For some reason, I can't find the strength anywhere in my body. Although I can try and fool myself, moving doesn't seem possible right now.
But I do it anyway. Do it for Hercules. I tell myself. He might be angry with you, but he still cares for you. I think. I hope.
I sit up, cross the room and open the door. I then stumble outside, and I find my feet guiding me along a path my brain has already mapped out. It takes me down the deserted corridor, and then down a flight of stairs. As continue my trek through the first floor, I turn the corner and almost slam into somebody. But not just anybody. Charles Lee.

     He looks at me, and seems to register who I am. He then focuses his eyesight on the floor.
     "Don't say anything. I've already heard enough about it." he says. Don't answer, don't answer, don't answer...
     "What?" I ask in spite of myself. He glances up at me again, and then straightens himself.
     "About what I did to the rebels. I don't regret it."
     "I wasn't going to say anything about that. I wasn't going to say anything at all, actually. But you're a fool for not regretting it." I snarl at him. He smirks at me.
     "Why is that?" he asks, cocking his head slightly to the left.
     "Because when the Captain finally loses his power, you're going to fall with him, along with the rest of the guards here." I shoot at him, but his smile doesn't falter.
     "You do realize that includes yourself?" he questions, and I feel the dread I've been ignoring fill up my brain and stomach.
     "They wouldn't do anything to me. I- I've been a slave, they pity slaves! They wouldn't hurt us, or me." I splutter. He leans forward and whispers in my ear.
     "I've been a slave as well, Laurens. And yet you've seem fixated on the fact that they want to kill me." I jerk my head back.
     "You've betrayed them!" I protest.
     "You've betrayed them as well." he points out.
    "No I haven't."
     "Laurens, you're working for the Captain. It doesn't matter you're reasoning. If it really does come down to a final battle, you're going to be stuck on the British's team."
     "If it ends in a war I can fight on whatever side I want!"
    "You're assuming you'll have freewill. There's no justice in this world." he remarks, and then, without a backward glance, walks away.

     I feel myself shudder, it starting at my fingertips and then running through my whole body until it reaches my boots. What could have he meant? No freewill? Well... I guess that's kind of true. I can barely control everything that's happening to me, and I thought that I was the one thing in this life that I could control. But there's one thing I can do now. One thing I have to do. I have to see Hercules, at least to say goodbye. I can't worry about whatever superstitions Lee has going on in his brain.
     My feet lead me through a memorized path, and I find myself standing out in the desert, looking into the gaping chasm in the ground called the quarry. I'm a few feet away from the Captain's base, so I can't technically be considered doing anything suspicious. But it's difficult for me to even see Herc, let alone talk to him. The one transportation down into the quarry is through the creaky elevator, and that would wake up half of the guards and slaves.
     I hear the steady hum of tires coming from behind me, and I turn around to see one of the Captain's trucks pulling up into the base. Behind it, I can see it's tracks in the sand, splitting the desert in half. The truck seems to be going into the road for the base, but before transferring from sand to stone, it screeches to a halt. The guard driving the truck gets out of the drivers seat and hobbles towards me. He seems to talk longer than the average human, and it's clear why when I notice his leg is somewhat maimed.
     "What're you doing here in the middle of the night?" he questions when he in earshot.
     "I could ask the same of you." I reply. The man grumbles and shakes his head.
     "Well, if you're not doing anything important, come and help me back here." he says, gesturing for me to follow him.
     "Who says I'm not?" I ask, catching up with him.
     "I say boy." he growls.
     "What happened to your leg?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
     "Two mangy boys were nappin' in the middle of the desert. Saw them while on my patrol. They put up a bit of a fight." he lets out a wheezy laugh.
     "New slaves?" I ask sadly.
     "If they're not anyone important, I think so," he answer, scratching the beard on his chin. We reach the back door of the truck, and he unlocks it with a key he draws from his pocket. When he opens the door, my instincts almost betray me. I manage to only widen my eyes, but I nearly gasped. Because both Alexander and Lafayette are in the back of the truck, Alex's wound over his head seemed to be bleeding again, and Laf has a bad black eye. They also seemed to be gagged and chained to the floor of the vehicle.
     Laf's eyes widen as well, but Alex elbows him with his cast. "This one's seems to have been in a fight or somethin'. His arm is broken anyways. It was weird, they were so close to the rebels base as well. They might be working with them. We'll have the ask the Captain, huh?" I stare at the man in shock. How could he not recognize them? Alright, maybe Lafayette isn't as noticeable as Alex, but still. Come to think of it, how come he didn't recognize me? While staring at him, I notice something weird going on with his eyes. They seemed to be slightly blurred around the edges.