Hamilton / Lams Oneshots

Prisoner of War (Lams) [Unspecified War AU]

AN: This has nothing to do with the current situation in Ukraine, I started the Oneshot before the invasion!
My thoughts are with everyone affected by the war, my DMs are always open if you or your loved ones are affected. <3

I saw a boy.

Maybe sixteen or seventeen, perhaps 18. Dark blonde hair, strands of it coming loose from the braid it was in because of the sharp winds catching it.
His clothes those of a soldier; a dark, pale shade of green, his uniform jacket carelessly left open.

There was a brown leather bag slung around his shoulder, which's strap he was grasping tightly with his right as he forced his path against the wind.

To his left the rock went high up, too steep to try and climb, and to his right the ground seemingly disappeared, leaving a high drop that eventually ended in dark, stirred up waters, the waves crashing against the cliffs creating streaks of white foam.

The young soldier's left hand searched for edges in the stone that he could get a hold of, moving slowly and hesitantly, pressing against the rock in desperation and fear every time the wind picked up again, threatening to blow him down into the ocean.

I had watched his movements for maybe fifteen minutes, my eyes following the way of the path as it inched up to finally meet the safe ground, the top of the cliff.
The road to safety ended maybe ten feet from where I was surrounded by bushes.

I had been tasked with watching the bay for enemy ships, and I had equipped my improvised station with the two blankets from my cot, one of them field green, which I had spread over myself to conceil the contrast of my black uniform between the bushes.

The other soldier's uniform had caught my eye immediately, the green stood off from the rocks with an unfortunate contrast.
At first, I'd wanted to shoot him down, but when I had seen his helpless position, as well as no weapon on him, I decided against it.
I almost wanted him to make it to safety, surely if I'd been pulled in to fight he had been as well.

The soldier stopped at a particularly harsh gust of wind, pressing against the rock.
He was close enough now that I could make out more features;
his mud-caked boots, his bright blue eyes that had tears spilling from them, his lips pressed together tightly.

He winced and continued on carefully, just ten feet away from the exit now.
If I'd have gone out and reached for him I could've grabbed him, but I stayed in my hiding spot, pulling the blanket over me more.

Five more minutes, and he had made it over the ledge, kneeling in the grass, curled over as he sobbed 5 feet away from me, shaking as the tension flooded from his figure.

My hand was on the trigger, I didn't dare to move a muscle and possibly notify him of my whereabouts.
The both of us were better off if he wasn't aware of my presence.

As his choked tears lessened and he started breathing more calmly, he seemed to become aware of his situation again, and quickly looked up and around, his eyes searching the area frantically, never even stopping to take a closer look at the bushes I was hiding in.
His tear- and dirtstained face was painted with relief and he tried to get up, letting out a surprised, stifled yelp when his legs didn't obey him.

It was a stupid coincidence, the squirrel at the bottom of the tree next to me, jumping away in surprise and rustling the leaves as it went.
It was more than enough for the boy to snap his head around, wincing away slightly, even more so when he spotted the barrel of my gun.
I took a deep breath, raising myself from the ground.
He sat frozen, on his knees as I stood up straight in front of him now.
Thinking of how much of a shame it was to shoot him, he was so pretty.