AU Skate fic set in the American Civil War. Yes I know I am butchering history.

Chapter 1

The smell of musket fire and blood was heavy in the air. The sound of firing guns and yellingg were everywhere you went. Thun was going down and the sunset had an eerie red glow. It had gone like this for weeks, different places, sometimes different people, but always bloody and always hard. Today they were at Gettysburg, and as always it was brother against brother, North against the South.

James Ford was waiting for the light to disappear so he could sneak behind the enemy lines. It was a suicide mission, he would be shot dead if he were caught, but he had still volunteered for it. Unlike most of the other boys, James didn’t have anyone waiting for him to come back home. He didn’t have anyone writing him and waiting anxiously for his letter saying he was all right. He didn’t have anyone who really cared if he lived or died.

They had got a uniform from a dead Yankee and he had put it on. It was a little to long in the legs and it had a few holes in it but it worked. President Lincon himself was supposed to be over there. The mission was simple, go over there, get what they were planning send it back and kill as many of them as he could, including the president if he was able to. He was the main reason they were doing this now.

“You ready James?” He was asked as the sun’s light disappeared.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You remember what to do?”

“ ‘Corse I do. It isn’t complicated.”

“True. Good luck kid. Give ’em hell.”

He gave him an extra gun and sent him on his way. He practically crawled threw the grass, around the bodies that had fallen that day, trying not to get caught.

“Hey, there’s something in the grass.” he heard one man say as he got closer

“Its just a opossum or something.”

He held still as he heard them talk and didnt move again. untill he heard them they did, he continued his way to their camp.

He got up and looked around. There were a few guards about 20 yards away and a few drunk and sleeping men by a few campfires. He looked a little farther, there were a bunch of men gathered around a tent. He grabbed his gun, keeping a tight hold on it, and made his way over to them. No one was looking at him, this was going to be easier than he thought.

He aimed it and fired, hitting on man in the back who fell dead. Everyone turned in shock and looked at him but the didn’t have time to do anything else before he shot two more. They started shooting back at him. He saw the top hat and he smiled pulling the trigger, he saw it fly off and heard people yelling in panic. He started to run back. People were shooting at him like mad, he heard the bullets fly past his ears like angry flies. He was half way there when a blinding pain hit his leg, he had been snot, he kept on running, but he was to slow, another bullet went into his lower back. He fell to his knees and one hit his shoulder and another one grazed his head.

He lay on the ground in pain, crawling back, he wanted them to know that he had shot the president, no one thought he would be able to do it, but he had. He tried hard not to cry out in pain, if he made noise he would be shot again. He could still hear a few bullets landing by him with dull thuds on the ground, dirt flying everywhere.

He managed to get back, collapsing on the ground by the tents.

“OH MY GOD HE MADE IT!”

“ Holey shit! get him to the medical station.”

He felt someone lifting him up and move him. He was in pain, and he felt weak, blood pumping freely from his body.

“I did it.” he said with a small groan and a smile.

“Are you serious?” the man that was helping carry him asked.

“Blew his damned hat right off of his head. Got three more of ‘em too.”

“Good job James. Good job.”

He gave a small smile before passing out.