I HAVE FINALLY UPDATED MY FRIENDS! And yes, this is a real chapter this time. Btw if any of you ever wanna use the poem in the last 'chapter' for anything, feel free to do so! 

Also, the most important announcement..... IT'S JOHN LAURENS' BDAY!!!!!!!!

(and I may or may not be starting a new Leo Valdez x reader book)

The revolution had started up again. This time, it wasn't a dream. You and John got in the carriage, bound to take you to war. Alex, Mulligan, and Lafayette were already in there. You said a quick hello, then sat down, putting your head in your hands. You couldn't stop thinking about the flower. What it had shown you. Or maybe you were just going crazy.

When you had touched the beautiful flower, images flashed through your head. Thousands of soldiers lying dead on the scarlet stained grass. Townspeople, searching for their loved ones through the rubble of fallen buildings. Your home, New York City, in flames. Worst of all, a familiar person, his hands caked in blood.

You quickly shook the memories out of your head as you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up, to see Laurens, concern plastered across his freckled face. Before he could even ask what was wrong, you answered.

"I'm fine." You said quietly.

"Y/n, you're obviously not fine." He countered. "C'mon, what's wrong."

"I'm just worried, about the war." It wasn't a total lie. You were worried about the war, just that wasn't the full truth. Laurens could probably tell, because he didn't look completely convinced, but he didn't ask anymore questions. A small flash of hurt crossed his face, making you wince with guilt. You rested your head on his shoulder, hoping you didn't hurt him too much. Thankfully, he put his arm around you, and gave you a bright smile.

Deep down inside, you wanted to tell him everything. You wanted to blurt out the things the flower had shown you. Only, you couldn't. Everyone would think you were insane. "A flower showed you the future?" They would ask and laugh, leaving you in the dust. You didn't want it to end up that way, so you would keep your thoughts secret.

The carriage rumbled with every pothole it hit, but the riders inside were silent. Even your brother had nothing to say! He was silently writing a letter to who you guessed was Eliza. They had been married for a while now, and shortly after the wedding, they had moved into a small, but nice cottage in Harlem. After that, well, who knows. Knowing Eliza, she probably dragged Alex to every store to get new supplies and decorations for their new home.

Watching the sea of green grass rolling passed the window was making you tired. You yawned sleepily. "Tired?" John asked, startling you out of your trance. You looked up at him, and he smiled in a benevolent way. Though war was approaching, and many were apprehensive of the deaths to come, he still had that twinkle in his eyes that you loved. Hopefully, not even a war could take that away.

You realized that Laurens was still waiting for an answer. "Yeah." You replied. "Watching all these rolling hills, trees, and stuff fly past me is making me pretty tired." 

He wrapped an arm around you, as you leaned into him, letting go of your troubles and worries to fall into a peaceful  trance called sleep.

Surprisingly, knowing about what was to come, your dreams were light-hearted and happy. You wished life could be like that. After you won the war, you would do everything in your power to make life become as close as possible to perfect.

You were woken up by the carriage hitting another pothole. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and sat up straighter to scan your surroundings. You were in a small town, a lot like New York City. Small cottages lined the roads, squished into big houses or shops. 

Then, you saw the tents. They weren't too far from the city, but just far enough to keep it away from destruction if the battle went our way. You certainly hopped it would.

Besides the ominous tents, it seemed like a normal day for the residents. Children played while adults chatted. They seemed incognizant of the precarious events to come.

The carriage finally rolled to a stop, and waiting for you there, was the general himself, George Washington, a grim look plastered on his face.