Standing in line at the polling station, Alfred felt waves of nausea wash over him. It wasn't like he hadn't experienced this before; but this time it seemed more intense. The stress of the election had really gotten to him over the last two years. It started with migraines in the preliminaries, nothing he couldn't handle. When it became clear it was Clinton vs Trump, the headaches turned into bouts of flu that lasted for days. He remembered vomiting while he watched the first debate; that had been fun. He grimaced at the memory.

"Next!" Someone called, and that was him. He stepped forward, feeling a stab of pain in his temple. His stomach roiled.

He showed his ID (with a fake birth date, since no one would believe his real one), and stepped inside. Despite how his legs shook, he made it to a booth and closed the curtain behind him.

Inside the booth, the cacophony of the world outside quieted. He took a few deep breaths. Alfred knew he had to hurry, there were lots of people waiting to cast their votes before the polls closed.

He picked up the pencil that was provided for him and looked down at the ballot. The two candidates were listed. He knew exactly whom he was voting for.

He coloured in the right square with the pencil determinedly. When he was finished, he put his ballot in the box.

Exiting the booth, he felt much better. His headache diminished, along with the pain in his legs. He still felt nauseous, and his stomach sloshed, but he had cast his vote.

Alfred knew he wouldn't truly feel himself again until a few days after they announced who won. That was alright. He'd done what he needed to do.

A/N: if you're American and you're of age, remember to go out and vote tomorrow! That country needs every vote it can get.