Burr spends much of the next day drifting, sleep disturbed by pains and sustenance thrust upon him. He doesn't want to eat--he feels he will throw up, when they give him much of anything, and begins refusing the food with more and more adamance. Yes, he is bleeding, but there is strength left in him, and he is not liable to drop dead for a good while yet.
He is exhausted, though. Everything feels heavy. He wants to rise, when the pains are not as bad, to pace and relieve himself, but they will not let him, afraid he will worsen whatever injury is inside him. Yet small movements are not so terrible, when he turns on the bed, and he thinks he would know better than them. He is trapped in this small room, while the weather worsens outside, the worst snowstorm he has ever seen, so early in the year.
He knows there is something happening there, in their makeshift camp, something to do with their supplies, which makes Hamilton appear drawn and worn, when he is at Burr's side.
"I want to walk," Burr tells Hamilton, when he sees him next. "I want to see Lafayette and Laurens and Washington, and our camp. I can't tell what is going on from in here. The bleeding is not so bad now--" not that he knows. No one will tell him anything. Never has he felt so useless before. What are the British doing? Where is Washington getting their food? How long can they stay here, and what will happen if Burr is still bed bound, when they are forced by circumstance to depart? He cannot handle another wagon ride, that is for sure, and Hamilton cannot separate himself from the army which desperately needs him, even for Burr's sake.
And once the baby is born, what will happen? There is no wagon now, to shelter him and the child, and carrying the baby with the army on horseback seems too dangerous, and likely not possible for one after childbirth. Four weeks of bed rest, that is what many omegas take, after. He cannot afford that--many omegas cannot afford that, but surely riding a horse is out of the question.
He shares these things with Hamilton, these fears--watches the cloud of anxiety ever-present deepen. If Burr could somehow wipe those emotions from him he would, yet now, for all Burr wishes to shelter and be sheltered, their child is more important.
no subject
He is exhausted, though. Everything feels heavy. He wants to rise, when the pains are not as bad, to pace and relieve himself, but they will not let him, afraid he will worsen whatever injury is inside him. Yet small movements are not so terrible, when he turns on the bed, and he thinks he would know better than them. He is trapped in this small room, while the weather worsens outside, the worst snowstorm he has ever seen, so early in the year.
He knows there is something happening there, in their makeshift camp, something to do with their supplies, which makes Hamilton appear drawn and worn, when he is at Burr's side.
"I want to walk," Burr tells Hamilton, when he sees him next. "I want to see Lafayette and Laurens and Washington, and our camp. I can't tell what is going on from in here. The bleeding is not so bad now--" not that he knows. No one will tell him anything. Never has he felt so useless before. What are the British doing? Where is Washington getting their food? How long can they stay here, and what will happen if Burr is still bed bound, when they are forced by circumstance to depart? He cannot handle another wagon ride, that is for sure, and Hamilton cannot separate himself from the army which desperately needs him, even for Burr's sake.
And once the baby is born, what will happen? There is no wagon now, to shelter him and the child, and carrying the baby with the army on horseback seems too dangerous, and likely not possible for one after childbirth. Four weeks of bed rest, that is what many omegas take, after. He cannot afford that--many omegas cannot afford that, but surely riding a horse is out of the question.
He shares these things with Hamilton, these fears--watches the cloud of anxiety ever-present deepen. If Burr could somehow wipe those emotions from him he would, yet now, for all Burr wishes to shelter and be sheltered, their child is more important.