"At night the stars put on a show for free And darling you can share it all with me" with John Graves Simcoe
Okay, so in cleaning out my google docs I found the drabble for this response. I need to answer the rest of the asks in my inbox collecting dust 🙈 Anyway, it’s not very good and the ending is very ‘eh. Enjoy!
____
The smell of sickness and death surrounds John, in his fevered state he’s not sure if it’s from him or the other half dead men with him in the medical tent. He can tell by the look on the doctor’s face that the news isn’t good, John could’ve told him that without the pain of being of being examined. His encounter with Woodhull had left him with an infected bullet wound and injuries from the fall. This was not how John envisioned dying, he pictured a glorious death in the heat of battle with his men at his side, not slowly rotting away on an uncomfortable cot in a tent.
Make peace. Send for your loved ones or write to them.
The doctor’s words echo in his head. How could he possibly write to you, what would he even say? Saying how sorry he is would probably be a good way to start. Instead John sends for his beloved Queen’s Rangers. He warns them of what’s to come, how the war is lost and tells them to safe themselves. Before they leave him for the last time, one of his most trusted men tries to ask about you, should he reach out to you or bring you down to Virginia, but John just shakes his head no. As much as he wants to see you before he goes, he knows leaving without saying goodbye is better than facing the possibility of your rejection.
On his voyage back to England, John finds himself dreaming of you most nights, he’s not sure if its the guilt of how he left things or if it’s just the result of the fever taking control of his mind. Tonight it’s just the two of you dancing alone underneath the stars, his apologies fills the otherwise silent air.
