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The Icarus on Brooklyn street

Summary:

George Washington can't give an answer as to why he took in a homeless male prostitute. But he always did have a hankering to fix things.
And he’s never fixed melted wings before.

Notes:

Hi there.
Ok so Im really nervous, because this is my first time doing a Hamilton fanfiction, so please be kind with me. I dont know how often this is going to be updated because I get really busy sometimes but Im going to try to do updates like every two weeks. I said try. Anyways I really love Hamilton and I just ship George Washington and Alaxander alot so here I am trying. I hope you enjoy.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“I'm so fucking cold George.”

 

Washington smiles at that.

 

“Well it wasn't my idea to interview a potential secretary downtown.” He replies.

 

He hears Lafayette sigh and from the corner of his eyes sees a puff of smoke from the cold leave his partners mouth.

 

It's not even November and the city of New York is already covered in snow.

 

“I had to. We had to make it a comfortable environment. Can't let them know that you're going to work them to death yet. Got to get them to feel nice around you. They won't feel that in an office building.”

 

Washington scoffs.

 

“They applied for the job Laf, I think they already know it's going to be quite vigorous. And I'm not even that bad!” Washington would put his hands up to aide his defense but he buried them deeper in his Armani coat.

 

He’s too cold for that shit.

 

“Would you like me to recount the 3 secretaries you ran out in the past 2 months. Nathanael Greene? Poor guy, never seen a man cry like that before, especially over the span of a week. How about Henry Knox, he had to go to the hospital from sleep deprivation. Or what about Catherine Moore, she is still in the hospital for that meltdown over the-”

 

Washington then puts his hand braving the cold to get Lafayette to stop.

 

“I get it.”

 

His partner smirks at that and continues his long stride up the side of the street. Not looking to see if Washington is with him.

 

“Exactly, excuse me for wanting to help the poor sheep before they go out to the wolves.”

 

“I'm hardly a wolf.” Washington objects.

 

“Of Course not.” Lafayette pauses. “You just rip innocent people apart like one.”

 

“Touche.” Washington gives in.

 

Lafayette hums in response.

 

The two reach the parking lot in a comfortable silence, both minds off wondering about different things. When they are standing next to their respectable cars Lafayette finally speaks again.

 

"Adrienne isn't cooking tonight. Says she needs her day off and she needs it now, apparently I'm too picky to feed on a daily basis these days.-”

 

“I agree.”Washington cuts in, with a chuckle.

 

“Oh hush. But yes we are going out to dinner tonight. Would you like to join us?”

 

Washington knows the answer before the question is finished.

 

He knows Lafayette knows the answer as well.

 

Suddenly his stomach feels heavy. His bones feel broken and he deflates a little. Breaking his too strong and too powerful posture to lean against his truck in an effort to hold up his body.

 

He feels tired now.

 

He swallows. The ache in his throat starts to grow and he shakes his head to clear the foggy cloud forming in his head.

 

“I can't make it tonight I'm afraid. Give my regards to Adrienne and tell her I'm extremely sorry.”

 

He looks away before he can see Lafayette's face.

 

“Of course.” The man says. His accent deep and thick and warm against the air soothes Washington's ears, even if it's mixed with disappointment. “I’ll tell her you had other plans already.”

 

“Yes, yes of course thank you.”

 

Silence.

 

A horn blaring in the distance.

 

People shouting over a parking space to the left of them.

 

Dull pop music blasting above them.

 

The city of New York,in it's colorful painting of sounds and voices fill the air around them but between the two men. That little space between them is nothing but silence.

 

And Washington can't take it.

 

“Well, we both better get going, don't want to catch a cold before the big meeting now.”

 

Lafayette shakes his head.

 

“You are very right, my good man.” He unlocks his car and steps into it.

 

“You take care of yourself tonight George.” The way he says it is broken and quiet. And Washington can do nothing but shake his head.

 

“I always do.”

 

Hes waving at Lafayette when the man drives away.

 

He’s left alone now.

 

In the parking lot of some little coffee shop on the border of the “rough parts of New York”. The painting of the city begins to explode again and he’s sighing, unlocking his own car door when he hears something.

 

A..noise?

 

A..cry?

 

It's odd. Different from the New York city music. It's more abrupt, less natural, more robotic. Made.

 

Sad.

 

He hears again.

 

Though it only makes him more confused.

 

Is it a cry?

 

A moan?

 

Where is it coming from? But more importantly..

 

Who's the creator.

 

George shuts his car door.

 

But he's not in the car.

 

Locking it, he moves away from his car towards the street.

 

He hears it again.

 

Looking side to side in a haste, curiosity filling his veins and his adrenaline suddenly picking up with anxiety and wonder.

 

He begins to walk.

 

The sound again.

 

He walks to the right.

 

He’s steady with his walks, quiet and calm. Whatever it is he doesn't want to scare it away so he takes down his guard and becomes gentle, less himself.

 

And though it feels a bit uncomfortable, he feels relaxed all the more.

 

The sound.

 

He speeds up until he hits an alley. It's dark with nothing but black snow crushed against the sides.

 

Washington's good judgments screams for him to walk away, to walk back to his car and continue on with the rest of his life. After all this scenario does not look like the best idea to go through with.

 

Rich man alone in an dark alley in a part of town he’s not familiar with.

 

No good.

 

But then he hears the sound again, and it's so unexplainable. Broken yet strong. Soft yet hard. Vulnerable yet completely aware of it's own power.

 

He has to know what it is. WHO it is.

 

So he straightens his shoulders again. Takes a deep breathe, and prepares for the worst.

 

He steps in the alley.

 

The sound gets louder as he get closer.

 

Then it's right in front of his face.

 

Darkness seeps through the setting to create a blank canvas of black and George takes out his phone for the flashlight.

 

He hears the sound one more time before he turns it on.

 

Then he sees it. The cause for this unknown noises, this weird yet enticing noise.

 

It's.

 

It's.

 

It's.

 

A cat.

 

Staring at him is a dirty black cat with green eyes and a mangled tail.

 

He looks at it for a moment, jaw slacked and eyebrows quirked up in disbelief.

 

What the actual fuck.

 

The cat meows again and sure enough it's the sound George has been chasing down for the past 20 minutes.

 

He sighs. All magic and curiosity drained.

 

“Of course.” Washington says, eyes never leaving the cat.

 

“Don't beat yourself up to much, bastard got me too.” A voice says suddenly.

 

Without a thought George turns around, swinging his fist into the person in a panicked haze.

 

“OW FUCK!” The person grabs their face as they fall to the ground.

 

George takes a step back, unsure of what do now.

 

“What you do that for?!” The person asks angrily.

 

They stand but remains their distance.

 

George closes his mouth and regains his posture and powerful stance.

 

“Sorry, I thought you were a burglar.”

 

The person scoffs.

 

“If my short ass was really a burglar, why would I choose to rob someone identical to a mountain?”

 

George goes to answer but comes up silent.

 

“Oh whatever.” They turn to walk away but George pulls on their shoulder.

 

“Wait, my apologies, I panicked. I'm not from around here and I was caught off guard. Forgive me please.”

The person goes silent.

 

“Alright fine, but it's only because we both got dupped by the same cat.”

 

The person turns around and begins to walk out of the alley.

 

George follows quietly.

 

It's when they are on the street. The lights glowing around them that George gets a good look at the person.

 

A man, or a young man by the looks of it. Dark hair and brown eyes the color of whiskey. He is short, and dainty almost. He’s wearing nothing but some sneakers jeans and a thin beat up hoodie.

 

They stare at eachother. Eyes raking over eyes. Breathing identical and lips blowing out puffs of air.

 

George closes his mouth after a few seconds.

 

“Is your jaw alright?” He asks, trying hard not to look at the boys lips.

 

The boy's hand go to touch his jaw, flinching a little bit.

 

“Yea it'll be fine, nothing I'm not use to.”

 

George wants to ask what he means by that but he keeps his mouth shut.

 

“So the cat..” He says after a few moments of silence.

 

“Hm? Oh yea! Mickey! That's her name!”

 

As if on cue, the little black cat staunts out of the alley, joining the boys side. Green eyes traveling all over Washington's body in a boring manner.

 

“You've named it?” George asks confusedly.

 

“It’s a her. And yes I have. She is nice.”

 

The boy looks down at the cat lovingly and it makes Washington's stomach do something but he just doesn't know what.

 

“Nice.” He chuckles and the boy gives Washington a toothy grin.

 

“Why did you name her Mickey though? If I may ask?” Washington looks at the cat again.

 

“Because she had a Mickey in her mouth when I met her.”

 

George eyes widens because oh .

 

The boy laughs at that. Squeaky and soothing and oh how George wants to hear it again.

 

They stand there like that.

 

The boy staring at the cat, the cat staring at George, and George staring at the boy.

 

“Where's your coat? It's very cold out here.” George asks because he doesn't feel so good watching the poor boy shiver the way he is shivering.

 

The boy looks up at George and his eyes, glassy and big flash with something before he quickly replies.

 

“I don't have one.”

 

George doesn't know what to say at that.

 

“Oh.” He feels that he should walk away, the boy looks like he wants him to walk away but he doesn't want to. So he changes the subject back to something more comfortable.

 

“The cat- Mickey. Why does Mickey make that noise?”

 

The boy cracks a small smile.

 

“She’s in heat.”

 

And shit.

 

George swallows. He can feel his face heating up in embarrassment and before he could do anything the boy laughs.

 

“Yes, sir. That enticing noise you were dying to figure out was nothing more than a cat begging to be fucked.”

 

“My god.” George chokes but the boy just laughs even harder.

 

“It's ok, it happens to the best of us.” He smiles at George and it's so sweet, George can taste the sugar.

 

“Right, of course.”

“Well I should be going now, me and Mickey got some business to attend to.”

 

He bends down to scratch the cat between the ears and in return gets a moan and a lick.

 

“Yes, yes of course me as well.” Why does he sound so out of breath?

 

The boy corks his eyebrow at that. “Really?” He asks. “What business?”

 

“I uh, uh, a lot of business. I'm the CEO of Revolutionary Industries.” He hopes that would be impressing enough to get a shock out the boy.

 

It isn't.

 

“I know. George Washington right?” The boy gives George a crooked smile.

 

“Yes that is me.” The boy hums in response.

 

“Have you always known?” He asks a little dejected.

 

“Yea, but I thought that it would look creepy to come out with it.” He picks up Mickey.

 

Silence.

 

“You feel at a disadvantage don't you?” The boy asks.

 

“Are you reading my mind?” George replies and in return that gets him another laugh.

 

“Is it because you don't know my name?”

 

“It's because of that and the fact that I have no idea where I am.”

 

“Ahh, the art of vulnerability my friend.”

 

“It isn't my forte.” George says.

 

The boy only smiles harder.

 

“Could you tell me your name, to help soften the blow of my unbearably large disadvantage.”

 

“What do I get in return?” The boy asks flirtatiously and God George can't breathe.

 

He says it without even thinking.

 

“Anything you want.”

 

“Including a coat.” The boy smiles.

 

“Any coat you want.”

 

What the fuck is he saying?

 

The boy turns around. Looking over his shoulders for something and George wants to know what. But he doesn't ask.

 

He sighs. “There's no need for that.”

 

He locks eyes with George and suddenly George's body feels on fire. Like the sun is in his lungs.

 

Silence.

 

“My name is Alex.” Is all he says.

 

Then he is walking away.

 

“Do you come over here often?” George screams after him, and George has never screamed. Ever.

 

“I'll be here the same time tomorrow night.” Alex calls back. He pauses then begins to speak again.

 

“Me and Mickey. We’ll be waiting for you Mr. Washington!”

 

Then George is alone.

 

Then George is walking back to his car.

 

Then George is home.

 

But he just can't seem to fall asleep.

 

Not with whiskey eyes, a beat up hoodie, a toothy grin and a certain cat dancing around in his brain.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Notes:

Ive never gotten this amount of views so quick before holy shit Im shook.
Thank you guys so much.
Ill try to update as soon as i can

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

George found it hard to concentrate the whole day.

 

Thoughts about Alex taking up every corner of his brain.

 

He suddenly felt new and foreign. Away from everything, away from himself.

 

Alex was so kind.

 

And charming.

 

And good looking.

 

He wanted to know more.

 

Wanted to know his story, where he was from. What he liked.

 

Why he had no coat.

 

And shit George forgot.

 

“I'll be back.” He suddenly says to Lafayette when their meeting is over.

 

“What? Where are you going?” Laf raises an eyebrow at him. Noticing the way Washington is moving, quicker than normal.

 

“Nowhere exciting. I'm just stepping out for a moment.” He tries to keep his answer short and general.

 

“Hmm.” His friend hums.

 

Silence.

 

“Alright. Fine don't tell me then, I don't want to know anyway.” And Washington can't help but to smirk at his partner for his childish nature. Lafayette is dying to know honestly.

 

So Washington cuts him some slack.

 

“I'm just getting a new coat.” He's wrapping a scarf around his neck when he speaks.

 

“But you just got one.” Laf says accusingly.

 

“Is it wrong to want another.” George chuckles.

 

Stay cool. He's telling himself.

 

Laf looks at him again. Something unreadable in the browns of his eyes.

 

“Ok.” He finally says, cautiously.

 

“I'll be back before you know it. Don't miss me too much now.”

 

He doesn't wait for a reply, only walks to the elevator.

 

When he does step into the elevator and the doors close he releases a breath he didn't know he was holding.

 

He always hated lying.

 

Especially to Lafayette, the person who saw through well…. everything .

 

He really can't explain how the man does it, read him so well. In all the 40 years of George's life he has never met someone that could break through every line of defense like the Frenchman.

 

They met when they were both soldiers in the war.

 

George was a new general and Lafayette was to be his second in command.

 

And though Washington was stern and powerful and captivated fear in others just by the way he walked, Lafayette didn't care.

 

He said what he wanted to George, most of it in French though, for he was only in America for a few months before he signed up to fight.

 

George wondered why.

 

“Why fight? Why put yourself in harms way when this isn't even your country?” George asked one night, while everyone was asleep and they were the only two awake.

 

And Lafayette did nothing but shrug and simply say “Because I wanted to.”

 

They were close after that.

 

When the war was over both men moved back to New York and opened up a business that later turned into a company.

 

One of the most powerful companies in the world actually.

 

And they turned into some of the richest men in America.

 

But neither of them changed. Not a single bit.

 

George remained George.

 

Big and strong, calm. A leader and a man who always had a plan.

 

Private.

 

And secretly a little broken.

 

And Lafayette remained the same as well.

 

A smart ass with a thick accent who didn't care what others thought.

 

Reading George so well.

 

15 years later and he’s still reading George like an open book.

 

So it would only make sense why George was freaking out in the elevator.

 

It was ridiculous yes, considering the fact that Lafayette had no knowledge of Alex. But somehow George's mind managed to fool George into thinking he did.

 

When the elevator doors open George is shaking his head.

 

He has to hurry.



                                                                      -**-

 

“Good afternoon Mr. Washington” Mr. Eacker shakes his hand.

 

“Good afternoon.” Washington repeats.

 

“What could I be getting you today, a new suit? Some ties? I just finished some nice designs if you would like to take a loo-”

 

George's hand cuts him off with one small flick.

 

“Now that won't be necessary Mr. Eacker, while I'm tempted, I spent over 500 dollars last time you told me about your ties.”

 

They both chuckle.

 

“I'm actually here because I need a coat.”

 

“What kind?” The tailor is already walking to the back before Washington finishes his sentence.

 

And here, Washington's mind goes into it's calculated planning.

 

  1. While Eacker is a kind man, he has a big mouth. He can't simply tell him it's for a friend, that would be too much information, Eacker will sure enough tell someone that George is buying 300 dollar coats for his ‘friend’.

 

  1. He doesn't know what size Alex is, he will have to guess but he thinks rather something on the small side, considering Alex was skinny.

 

  1. He doesn't know what Alex likes. He will need Eacker to pull up something that's “in” right now, something young boys like.



After a few beats of silence Washington's plan is initiated.

 

“It's for my cousins son. He’s turning 18 in a few days and I decided to get him a coat. Got any suggestions what these kids like these days?”

 

He gives his own self a nodd of approval.

 

And Mr. Eacker batts not one eye.

 

“Of Course sir, lets see what I have.”

 

Washington takes a seat on the sofa and looks at his watch.

 

He's making good time.

 

When Eacker shows up again, he has a rack full of black and olive colored coats.

 

“These seem to be the style all my young clients are buying. I figured your boy would like them too.”

 

A few minutes go by before Washington settles on a coat.

 

It's an olive color. With buttons all up the front. Diamond quilts all over it. It comes with a hood and it's tight fitted. The pockets are fairly large with Eacker stitched on the right pocket. Inside the coat is the best wool.

“It'll keep him warm for sure.” Eacker promises.

 

Washington squints his eyes at it. Trying to imagine Alex in it.

 

He thinks the boy would look good in it.

 

But Washington also thinks Alex would look good in anything.

 

He buys the coat anyway.

 

Washington hands over the two hundred dollars, not even flinching and Eacker gives him the coat wrapped up, in a pretty white box.

 

“Thank you Mr. Eacker.” George turns to leave.

 

“Why yes anything for you Mr. Washington. Tell Mr. Lafayette I said hello!”

 

                                                                 -**-

 

“Well?” Lafayette raises his eyebrow up when Washington takes a seat in his own office.

 

“Well?” George repeats, removing his coat and scarf.

 

“Well where's the coat?” The man crosses his arms.

 

“I had my driver take it home.” George lies. It's really in the back seat of his car.

 

“So you're telling me you ran out of work for a coat you're not even wearing? Ton homme bizarre”  Lafayette says the last part under his breath.

 

“I don't question your customs, so don't question mine.” Washington sits down and opens his laptop. He tries to not focus on his friend laying on the sofa looking at him, but then the staring starts to burn.

 

“Don't you have something to do? A report to write? A meeting to attend? An English dictionary to study?” Washington looks at him bordely.

 

“Something is happening with you. I know it.” Lafayette stands and straightens his suit jacket.

 

George swallows.

 

“I don't know what you mean.”

 

Lafayette hums.

 

“Sure you don't. Chat sournois. ” Laf whispers before walking out the door.

 

“I thought I was a wolf.” George mutters. But nonetheless Lafayette is gone. And Alex’s coat is safe and sound.

 

He begins typing.

 

                                                                     -**-

 

He stuffs his face deeper in his scarf when another gust of wind blows.

 

God it's cold out here.

 

He clutches the box as a reminder as to why he’s doing this.

 

If George is cold.

 

Alex must be freezing.

 

He's been standing here for about 20 minutes and there's no sign of the boy or his dirty cat and George doesn't know why he feels so nervous about it.

 

What if it was a joke?

 

What if Alex wasn't coming back here?

 

Oh god.

 

George begins walking back to his car.

 

Stupid

Stupid

Stupid

 

He should've known, this isn't normal what the fuck is wrong with him?

 

The kid was just being nice and making a joke.

 

He looks like a stalker.

 

He’s just stupid-

 

“Mr. Washington.”

 

George stops right in his tracks.

 

It's him.

 

He turns around and sure enough there's Alex. Wearing the same thing from yesterday.

 

He looks tired and George notices a bruise forming on his face.

 

Must have been from him punching him, George thinks.

 

“Hello again.” He murmurs through his scarf.

 

“Didn't think you were going to show up again. I'm quite shocked my good man.” Alex smiles and George’s heart skips a beat.

 

“The same I with you.” George pulls down the scarf and licks his lips.

 

Alex notices and begins to stare at them.

 

They stand there for a second before Alex speaks.

 

“Yea well this is my street. I ain't going nowhere sir.” Alex’s eyes look away from his lips and up at his eyes. George didn't remember them being so brown.

 

So tired.

 

“Where is your cat. Mickey?” George asks. Anything to get this unknown tension out of the air.

 

Alex smiles at that.”I don't know, she likes to go on long walks you could say.”

 

“You make her seem like she's a human.”

 

“Yea well she's better than a lot of humans I've met so.”

 

“I agree.”

 

Alex giggles.

 

He actually giggles.


“What's in the box?” He asks. And George looks down at it before handing it over.

 

“It's for you.”

 

Alex face falters but he still grabs the box. Almost caustionaly.

 

When he does open it and sees the coat he’s silent.

 

“I didn't really know what kind you wanted. I tried to get whatever was popular right now. And it should keep you warm, if you don't like it I can always get a different one -”

 

“What are you getting at huh?” Alex spits.

 

And George takes a step back at that.

 

“I-what?” He asks confusedly.

 

Alex looks up and he is angry. His eyes narrowed and lips in a thin line.

 

“What do you want from me with this. You could've just paid me instead of buying the coat and-”

 

“What are you talking about?” George takes a step closer.

 

Alex takes a step back.

 

Georges heart drops at that.

 

“I just would've taken the money, but ok where do you want to do this?” Alex looks down, the box still clutching his hand.

 

“Do what? Alex what are you talking about?” George is honestly confused and he doesn't like it one bit.

 

“Don't act all innocent you're only wasting my time.” He looks up and sees the complete lostness of George’s face and his face relaxes. “You mean you don't want- wait why did you buy me this?”

 

His voice isn't a spit anymore. Just a tired sound.

 

“I told you if you told me your name I’d give you a coat. It's too cold out here for you to just have on a hoodie. I- what were you talking about?” George holds his hands up as a surrender.

 

Alex closes his eyes and sighs.

 

When he does open them he's back to his normal self.

 

“Nothing.” He says. “Look Mr. Washington I can't accept this-”

 

“Take it please.” Georges says hurriedly. “I want you to have it. You need a coat Alex.”

 

He can tell Alex wants to protest some more but with a stern look from George, the boy puts it on.

 

It's a little big on him but it looks good still.

 

Alex smiles.

 

And George feels happy at that.

 

Things go back to normal at that.

 

“Looks good on you I like it.” George says seriously and Alex justs laughs.

 

“Yea I agree. You've got good taste Mr. Washington.” He says looking down at the coat.

 

George can't help it.

 

“Call me George.”

 

Alex looks up.

 

“If you want to.” He adds quickly.

 

Alex gives him that smile.

 

“George. Yea ok George. I like it. You let every broke person call you George or am I just a rare exception?”

 

And shit he’s flirting again. George doesn't know how to flirt. It's been almost 20 years since the last time he’s flirted. It's ok. He can do this. It can't be that hard.

 

“Yes.”

 

Facepalm.

 

But Alex is just laughing again. Clutching the empty box close to his stomach and George kinda wishes he was the box.

 

“Smooth.”

 

“Would you like to get a coffee maybe? Or something to eat?” George suddenly asks seriously. He has decided he's not going to flirt. Hes too old for it.

 

“Only if you let me pay.” Alex says. He doesn't wait for the answer. Just instead begins to walk towards the little coffee shop.

 

“I'm paying.” George states and Alex bumps his side when he catches up.

 

“We'll see George Washington.”

 

It's when they are seated at one of the tables that Alex asks about the coat.

 

“How much did you pay for it?” He asks. Fingers rubbing over the sleeves.

 

George doesn't blink.

 

“Two hundred.” He says simply. Picking up the menu.

 

“Dear god.” Alex jaw drops and George can't help but to feel a little proud for getting a little reaction out the boy.

 

“It wasn't that much. Mine was eight hundred.”

 

“Money isn't a hard thing for you is it?” Alex asks.

 

“I'm lucky enough to have it.” George removes his coat but Alex keeps his on.

 

They talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

 

Though their personal lives don't make an appearance in their conversation George feels like he’s known Alex forever.

 

However Alex does end up paying.

 

He’s a fighter that's for sure.

“My name is Alexander. But I prefer Alex. Alexander always sounded too formal for me. Don't you think?” Alex says when they are exiting the coffee shop.

 

“No I like it.” George stuffs his hands in his pocket, and Alexander does the same.

“You gonna call me that now George?” He smiles at the man and George wants to smile back but he keeps his mouth neutral.

 

“Yes.” He says and Alexander laughs.

 

“I think I might like when you say it.”

 

They stand in front of the coffee shop. Staring at each other both in a daze.

 

George hears a purr and looks down to find Mickey sliding through his legs.

 

“That means she likes you.” Alex pauses. “She's not the only one.” And George almost misses it but he doesn't and he can't help but to put on a small smile.

 

“Any ways I gotta get going again. Back to my business. And you back to yours.” Alex picks up Mickey and the cat purrs even louder.

 

“Of course.” George puts his hands behind his back.

 

“Thank you again for the coat. It's beautiful and so warm.”

 

“Well it's the least I can do. I am the cause of that bruise on your face.” He nods to Alex.

 

Alex face falters for a split second and then he's smiling again.

 

“Right yea, well we all make mistakes. I'm just happy it was you that sucker punched me and not some random stranger.” Alex rolls his eyes.

 

George chuckles.

 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” He asks. Voice level.

 

“I hope so.” Alex bites his lip.

 

“Then I will see you tomorrow.”

 

“Bye George.” Alex says before he is walking away.

 

George doesn't say bye.

 

He doesn't think his voices is strong enough to speak.

 

So he goes back home.

 

Something identical to butterflies in his stomach.

 

Buts it's not until he's laying in bed does he realize that the bruise on Alexander's face was nowhere near where George hit him on his jaw.

Notes:

oh crap.

Anyways thanks for reading.
Ive just made a new tumblr and its called angelica-schuyller so follow me if you want or whatever.
I absolutely love comments and kudos so give me some if you want to.
I hoped you guys liked it.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Notes:

Holy crap you guys are amazing thank you so much for all the support for the story. Ill try to update as soon as I can.

Hope you enjoy and sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

They do this for over a week.

 

George sneaks away from his professional life uptown and goes to the dirty streets of New York to visit Alexander.

 

And every time he comes, there is the boy, waiting on Brooklyn street. Olive coat on and Mickey at his feet.

 

At first it's innocent enough. They eat at the coffee shop, and talk about nothing but everything as well. And though their personal lives still have not made an appearance, they managed to learn a great deal about each other. Or so Washington likes to think.

 

Washington has come to the conclusion that not only is Alexander a gorgeous little boy but he is also intelligent.

 

Very intelligent actually.

 

It's the way he speaks.

 

When he talks about something he’s passionate about he gets this look in his eye and he speaks as though he can't stop talking. He actually can't stop talking.

 

He’s really big on the political issues of America, much to Washington's surprise. Not only is he big but he's well educated on it.

 

And Washington has never been very political, but he still knew some stuff. But the way Alex explains it, he can't help but to feel lost. Eating his soup and nodding along whenever Alex pauses.

 

And maybe Alex knows Washington has no idea what he’s talking about but if he does, he ignores it. It seems that he’s just happy that he has someone who will  listen to him speak on the matters.

 

Washington learns that Alex is 23. He also knows that he’s an immigrant from the Caribbeans. He likes to write though he refuses to let Washington read any of his stuff. He likes cats. But it seems Washington already knew that.

 

And that's the farthest Washington got to making Alex talk about himself. It isn't enough, not for Washington but he doesn't probe anymore.

 

Alex asks him questions too. Mostly about his business and how he got it started. Washington tries to answer as much as he can but he doesn't quite remember some stuff since it happened long ago. When he tells Alex this, the boy laughs at him. Calls him an old man, and maybe George is supposed to be offended. But he isn't.

 

The days pass by and it continues to grow. So much that Washington almost feels...sad when he isn't with Alexander. It's something about the boy that helps Washington feel happy. Washington thinks maybe it's Alexander's ambition. His ideas, they're so big and wild. Washington's never seen someone that has bigger dreams than Alex.

 

He’s beyond wonderstruck when it comes to the boy.

 

But there is also something else.

 

The more he hangs around Alex, the more confused he gets.

 

It's complicated.

 

He just can't put his finger on it.

 

Yes, Alexander has these ideas and opinions, but why isn't he chasing them? He can't be in college can he? He’s never spoken about it.

Why does he only wear those jeans and sneakers? Does he not own anything else?

 

If Mickey really is his cat, why does he let her roam the streets of New York without a collar?

 

Whats Alexanders last name?

 

And why is the boy always looking behind himself when he first gets there?

 

The bruises on his face, where do they come from?

 

And when Washington thinks about these things, his brain hurts. He feels sick. He feels a little irritated.

 

It's like Alexander isn't real, some figment of George's imagination, some enigma that grows stronger and more powerful whenever George sees him.

 

And he’s ready to ask. He’s ready for the answers to those questions. And he’ll be waiting on that street. Hands stuffed in his pocket, eyes filled with determination to gather the answers he thinks he deserves.

 

But then there's Alex. Eyes big and brown. A tired smile on his lips, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and suddenly George forgets everything.

 

It's on the 8th day he starts to buy things for the boy.

 

And no it isn't some sugar daddy type thing. But it's just innocent stuff George thinks is essential to live.

 

He buys Alex some boots. The thin sneakers falling apart by the thread were making him feel unease with Alex’s feet. And yea Alex fights with him about it but sure enough he wears them.

 

Theres the food he gave Alex. Nothing special. Just some bread and lunch meat, and some water. And Alex doesn't fight with him, not this time. And Washington doesn't know how to feel. Good because Alex is finally starting to accept the stuff without a fight? Or bad that Alex may have been starving too much to turn the food down?

 

But the most thing Washington has bought. The item he has to keep running back to the store to get.

 

Is cat food.

 

When he first got it Alex laughed at him.

 

“She’s a street cat George.” He said. “She can find food on her own.”

 

“Yea well she shouldn't have to, not when I am perfectly capable of getting her some.” George says seriously. And Alex rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless.

 

“And what do you want in return?” He winks and oh no he’s flirting again.

 

“Just to see you again tomorrow night.” Washington says seriously.

 

And maybe Alex is blushing.

 

“You know the answer to that Mr. Washington.”

 

And Mickey is at his foot. Eating the cat food like it's air and he suffocating.

 

So this slowly becomes their new normal.

 

And yes George can't understand it, but he does it anyway.

 

And yes he probably should stop. Probably.

 

He can see the slick eyes Lafayette is giving him. And he feels all the more guilty. He doesn't want to lie to his friend but he can't tell him the truth. That every night he goes to some random street to see a boy and his cat. And though he is a grown man and can do whatever he pleases, he himself knows that this is no good for him. And he doesn't want to hear what his friend will say.

 

He just has this feeling. That something is off with Alexander. But he just can't stay away.

 

He’s hasn't felt this happy in a long time.

 

But he just wishes he didn't have to lie to his close friend to feel it.

 

And it's one day that Lafayette gets in Washington's car and finds a bag full of cat food in the back.

 

“Uh what is that?” He points to the bag of food.

 

And shit.

 

He wasn't supposed to see that.

 

“Cat food.” Washington says nonchalantly.

 

An awkward silence fills the car for a few moments.

 

“You want to tell me why you have cat food in your car?” Laf buckles his seat belt.

 

“It's for a friend. I was picking it up for them.” Washington says tightly.

 

“You have a new friend?” He’s got his eyebrow quirked and a smirk on his face.

 

And Washington shakes his head.

 

“No, not like that. It's for my neighbor…..Oh don't give me that face, grow up please.” He turns the radio up and that signals the end of their conversation on the matter.

 

Washington tells this to Alexander and the boy laughs.

 

“Good to know your friend still thinks you're a cool cat.” He wiggles his brows and puts the cat food down for Mickey.

 

Washington shrugs.

 

“I think he was just joking. Lafayette has known me for a long time. He’s well aware of the fact that I can't really..”



Alex looks up.

 

“I don't really want anything.” He quickly changes.

 

Alex stands, straightens his coat. Washington notes that it's still in perfect condition.

 

Almost like the boy doesn't wear it that much.

 

He choses to ignore it.

 

Maybe he’s just good at keeping his stuff clean. Washington guesses.

 

“Why don't you want anything?” Alex asks. They're currently on their way to the coffee shop for something to eat. Their usual time.

 

“Uh. No reason. I'm just not ready I suppose.” He says reluctantly.

 

“Why aren't you ready?” Alex asks again.

 

And normally Washington hates this. People who keep asking questions about him but he just can't find himself to be annoyed.

 

He knows Alex is like this.

 

And he's fine with it.

 

“It's uh complicated.” He speaks a little more quietly. And Alex stops in his tracks at that.

 

“What do you mean?” He raises his eyebrow and though it makes him look funny, Washington's throat is far too dry for him to laugh.

 

“My uhh..wife died about a year ago.” He says simply. And yes Washington's voice has always been hard and powerful and strong and commanding, but with this. It's barely above a whisper.



He waits for Alex to say something. Anything.

 

I'm sorry for your lost.

 

I bet she was lovely.

 

I'm sorry for asking.

 

He waits.

 

But Alex just stares at him. Something unreadable in his eyes. Lips set in a line. Not in anger though.

 

The air from Washington's breathe comes out in puffs. And he’s waiting for what the man will say.

 

But then Mickey is sliding in between his legs. And Alex is looking down at her.

 

“Come on girl. You know George likes his shiny shoes clean. Don't dirty them up now.”

 

He bends down and picks up the cat, much to her protest.

 

“Come on, I'm hungry and it's your turn to pay tonight.” Alex simply says and then he's walking.

 

George can do nothing but stare a little in disbelief.

 

Alex asks him some more about it after they're done eating.

 

“How long were you two married? If you don't mind me asking.” Alex asks quietly.

 

Washington pauses for a moment.

 

“About 15 years.” He answers and Alexander looks down playing with his scraps.

 

“How did she die?” He asks even more quietly than before.

 

“She had breast cancer.” Georges says.

 

There's a moment of silence between the two, and Alex speaks again.

 

“She was an amazing person wasn't she?” He smiles when he says it, the smile is light and small though.

 

And it makes George chuckle.

 

“Yes. She was. She was hardworking. More hardworking than me actually. And she was caring. A true gentle woman but she wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind.” He looks down.

 

Breathe.

 

And maybe Alex can see Washington is cracking, because he speaks again.

 

“My mother was just like that.” His laugh is light.

 

And Washington looks up at that.

 

“Yea?” He asks. And Alex shakes his head.

 

“Yea, she was hardworking too, kind of a beast. When she had me and my brother, she moved over here to America with us, my father was nowhere to be found.”

 

This is the most Alex has ever said about himself at once. And Washington can help but to feel a little excited.

 

Then.

 

“But after a few years here, she caught scarlet fever. She died about a month later.” He says quietly.



And it makes Georges heart drop.

 

“We couldn't afford the medicine.” Alex breathes.

 

“How old were you?” Washington asks.

 

“I was 11 and James was 15.” And at this point, Alex is gripping the fork.

 

They sit again in silence, everything said settling between the two in heavy air.

 

Finally Alexander speaks again.

 

“I guess sometimes life just fucking sucks.” He says calmly.

 

And George does nothing but nodd.

 

When they leave out, they are met with Mickey laying against the coffee shop’s window, purring loudly, tail swooshing in the air.

 

“Looks like someone ate good tonight!” Alex laughs picking her up.

 

The cat does nothing but snuggle closer.

 

George puts on his scarf and for a second the two are just staring at eachother.

 

“Thank you for telling me that George.” Alex finally says, and his voice is different than usual.

 

“Thank you for telling me about yourself as well.” He replies. And Alex looks away.

 

“I haven't told anyone that. Not in a very long time.” The boy says quietly and Washington doesn't know why he feels shaky.

 

“It isn't good to keep things bottled up like that my boy.”

 

“Yes. I know.” Alex pauses. “It's just I don't have anyone to tell it to.”

 

“You have me.” George says quickly, and yes something is happening. He can feel it.

 

“I want to..” He whispers.

 

“Want to what?” Washington presses.

 

And Alexander looks as if he is having a war with himself.

 

“I want to tell you everything.” He says quietly and Washington can't help but to step forward and touch him on his shoulder.

 

It's the first time he is touching him since their run in at the alley. And George feels a little warm with the contact.

 

“So tell me Alexander.” He says gently.

 

“I...can't.” Alex steps back. Watching the ground.

 

The contact and is gone Washington feels colder without it.

 

“I can't...I'm sorry.”

 

Then he is quickly walking away. Mickey trailing behind him.

 

“Wait.” George calls after him and Alex is turning around, walking backwards slowly, something identical to panic in his eyes.

 

“Let me see you again tomorrow. In the daylight. Let's get away from this street.” Washington finally calls out and Alex is shaking his head. He yells but his voice is so shaky and weak.

 

“No George, just stay away from me ok? Just stay away from me I'm no good. I burn everything I touch just get away from me please. Don't come back. It's so much easier this way.”



And then Alexander is gone.

 

He disappeared back into the darkness of the downtown streets of the “Dirty parts on New York.”

 

Gone.




And Washington doesn't know how long he is standing there, watching.

 

He just knows that Alexander isn't getting rid of him that easy.

Notes:

Its getting real now..

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Notes:

Im still shook with the amount of support Im getting from you guys. Its making me so happy.

So because Im getting so much love I decided to give an update today because why not.

But heads up I will not be updating tomorrow, Im gonna be really busy and Im not even going to be home so I wouldn't even be able to upload this chapter. I dont know if Im going to be able to do it Sunday either. Usually weekends are really hard for me to update so I dont do it, so the next update will hopefully be Monday, so dont kill me when theres no update tomorrow or Sunday.

Anyways I hope you enjoy, this chapter stressed me out writing it. Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors, you guys know I suck with that so enjoy anyway.

xx

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He looks for Alex every night.

 

But the boy doesn't show up.

 

And Washington is really starting to worry.

 

And yes, Alex told him he never wanted to see him again. But George isn't taking it too seriously. Because Alex had something in his eyes that looked like he didn't want him to leave.

 

And George isn't leaving.

 

So despite his good judgement, the man still goes to Brooklyn street. And he waits for the boy but he never shows up.

 

And then Washington goes home for bed.

 

But he doesn't sleep.

 

He just stares at the ceiling and wonders what Alexander is doing. He wonders if the boy is thinking about him as much as he is thinking about Alexander.

 

And in the morning at work, George functions regularly. But he seems to only just function . He doesn't smile or even speak that much.

 

Lafayette notices and asks him about it one day.

 

“Are you alright George.” He looks at him. Worry sketched on the lines of his face.

 

And though Washington wants to say no, he says yes.

 

And Laf looks at him again, clearly knowing the man is lying, but doesn't push it anymore.

 

“Alright. Reste forte.” He says. And Washington knows Laf thinks he’s like this because of Martha, his wife. But in reality it's Alexander that's making him feel just a tad bit sadder right now.

 

And that honestly scares him to death.

 

How this boy -that he knows close to nothing about- can affect him this much with only two weeks of speaking. How this boy- seventeen years younger than him- could relate to George on a personal level and make him feel like he’s known him his entire life.

 

It's scares him that Alexander can make him feel this happy.  

 

He hasn't felt this happy in a long time.

 

He hasn't met anyone that made him feel this happy in a long time.

 

And he thought he was never going to.

 

When Martha died he was done. He swore that happiness wasn't a possibility and that no one was going to make him feel alive again. Not when he suffered the loss of the only person that has only ever understood him.

 

When Martha died, that hope died with her.

 

And he had planned on living his life like that for the remainder of his life.

 

But then Alexander showed up.

 

Alexander and his witty comebacks and comments. His brown eyes and raven hair. His ability to automatically understand everything. And his inability to shut up.

 

George was amazed.

 

And no, he isn't letting go of that.

 

No matter how much damage Alexander said he caused.

 

So that's why he still visits the street.

 

And that's why he’s here tonight.

 

The wind seems to be colder than normal. Crisp and stinging against Washington's skin.

 

He licks his lips staring at the coffee shop.

 

He doesn't want Alexander to leave.

 

He can't let him leave.

 

He hears a cry from below him and looks down to find the little black cat he has come to know as his own pet.

 

She looks up at him, green eyes glowing against the darkness of the night.

 

“Hey Mickey. Haven't seen you in a long time.” He speaks and the cat rubs against his leg in response.

 

And sure he might look crazy, talking to some dirty street cat but quite frankly, Washington is desperate.

 

So he tries.

 

“Do you know where Alexander is?” He asks.

 

And at first the cat does nothing. She just continues to rub against his leg.

 

“I missed you too Mickey.” George sighed and well it was worth a try.

 

They stand there like that for a few minutes. The cat purring and cuddling against George and George looking towards the dark streets in hope of Alexander showing up.

 

But he doesn't.

 

Suddenly, Mickey is moving away from his leg. Looking at him and crying.

 

He bends down to meet her, scratching at that part behind her ears he always sees Alexander scratch.

 

“What's wrong?” He asks. Because this cat is usually a happy cat. He’s rarely ever heard her cry like this.

 

And then suddenly the cat is running away. Into the dark street and George is staring at her confused.

 

He stands and turns around beginning his walk towards his car.

 

But then Mickey is back again, crying even louder.

 

She runs to George, circles around him then runs towards the street again, stopping.

She looks back at him.

 

And Washington realizes what she is doing.

 

He walks forward a few feet and she moves forward a few feet.

 

She wants him to follow her.

 

And at first he doesn't believe it. This can't be happening. This is dangerous, he has no idea what's over there and he really shouldn't trust a street cat anyway.

 

But Mickey is looking at him, and though he can't understand what she is saying he knows that she is waiting for him. And that cat has helped a lot so far.

 

He might as well go.

 

It seems stupid shit is already his forte these days.

 

So he follows the cat.

 

And for the most part Mickey keeps going, stopping every few seconds to look back and make sure Washington is following. And if he was walking too slow for her liking she would run back to him, circle around him and run back forward again.

 

And the deeper they go, the more Washington feels uneasy. The streets no longer look like streets, but are covered in garbage and big plastic bags. Well George thinks they're plastic bags until he gets close enough to one to see that it was actually a person in a blanket sleeping.

 

He hopes they're sleeping anyway.

 

Most of the buildings are condemned and broken and covered in graffiti with gangs names and signs George can't name.  He sees people standing on the corners, he doesn't talk to them.

 

The street lights shine with a rusty orange contrasting against the black setting.

 

Every once in awhile someone is shouting a name in the distance.

 

And yea Washington is a tough man, so he likes to think but this is getting a little scary.

 


And there goes Mickey, walking a little bit ahead. Her tiny black head facing forward ignoring everything around her.

 

She slows down when she gets to a broken and beaten down house. The windows are covered with wood, and they have red “x’s” painted on them. The old yellow paint that covers the entire house is chipped and cracked and half gone, and the top of the roof looks caved in.

 

It's a real piece of shit in other words.

 

Mickey stops right in front of it. Looking at it before looking over to George.

 

“So this is where he lives huh?” George asks the cat and though he gets no response he knows the answer.

 

They stand there staring at it and the people surrounding it when someone walks up to him.

 

“Hello.” the boy smiles, and it's warm and a little sweet.

 

“Uh hi.” George stuffs his hand deeper in his pocket.

 

“What are you looking for?” The boy asks. And George quirks an eyebrow.

 

“A boy. His name-” He’s beginning to say but the boy laughs interrupting him and though his laugh doesn't sound like Alexander's, it's sweet enough.

 

“Say no more, I know the boy you're looking for.” He reaches into Washington's pocket and grabs his hand and begins to lead him towards the broken house and all George can do is stare with his jaw open.

 

He didn't think finding Alexander was going to be this easy.

 

What the fuck is going on?

 

He looks back and Mickey is still sitting there. Silently waiting for George to return with her Tail swishing behind her.

 

Good luck. Is what she's saying.

 

And no she can't speak, but George just knows.

 

When he is in the house it surprisingly has electricity. Though it has no heat and he’s quite cold. He honestly doesn't know how the boy leading him can walk around in just that tee shirt. He continues to look around realizing that it looks beat up on the outside, but it's fairly clean on the inside.

 

Well as clean as it can get.



There are people sitting around, music playing in the background and a fairly large supply of alcohol scattered all over the tables and couches.

 

There's smoking and even needles, and Washington may have seen someone doing cocaine, but he choses to ignore it.

 

He gets a few looks but other than that, no one speaks to him.

 

And the boy doesn't let go of his hand, he holds onto it tight yet gentle and George doesn't know why he won't let go.

 

He can follow him without his help thank you.

 

But nonetheless he says nothing about it.

 

They get to a room, and around them are noises and sounds George can't quite place.

 

He looks around for Alexander but he’s nowhere to be found.

 

“But I-”

 

The boy begins to shh George and again, he’s being overly sweet and George starts to panic.

 

“It's ok, everything will be fine.” He opens the door and when George walks in he’s met with a bed. He stares at it in confusion and then the boy is whispering close in his ear, lips feathering over the shell.

 

“I'm going to be the good little boy you're looking for.” He says sweetly and then 4 things happen at the exact same time:

 

  1. ) George realizes that this is a whore house.

2.) The boy's hand goes down his pants.

3.) George pushes the boy away abruptly and harshly.

4.) George figures out that Alexander is a prostitute.

 

The boy stumbles back hard, crashing into the wall and then falling down from impact.

 

And Washington doesn't even care.

Washington is freaking out.

 

“NO NO THIS IS ALL WRONG NO, NO I..” He doesn't finishes, his throat is getting dry and hes shaking his head, the realization filling in.

 

The bruises.

 

The tiredness.

 

No clothes.

 

Always hungry.

 

He's a prostitute.

 

This isn't Alexanders house. It's his office.

 

The boy stands up slowly, rubbing his shoulder in pain.

 

“Oh honey I know you're nervous, it's ok. This must be your first time.” The boy says calmly, like Washington didn't just shove him into a wall.

 

“WHERES ALEXANDER?!” He screams. Panic rising in him.

 

How could he have been so stupid?

 

So oblivious.

 

He can see the panic flash across the boys face.

 

“Oh you want him? Well you're going to have to wait, he's with another client.”

 

Client .

 

George feels like he’s going to be sick.

 

“I NEED TO SEE HIM NOW. NOW!” He doesn't wait for a reply.

 

Instead he rushes out of the room and begins opening up doors much to the people insides dismay.

 

“ALEX. ALEX WHERE ARE YOU!” And the boy is running behind him, grabbing onto his coat in horror.

 

“Please sir! You have to stop, you're going to get him into trouble. Please!” He’s pleading but George just can't stop, he won't. Not until he finds Alexander.

 

God he was so stupid. How could he not have seen all this?

 

“ALEXANDER!” He screams again and comes to the last door at the end of the hall.

 

He burst through it and is met with Alexander.

 

Or a horrible version of Alexander.

 

The young boy is tied up. Hands tied with rope attached to the ceiling. He’s naked and his body is littered with bruises. George tries not to look at his bottom half though he can see his feet are also tied up as well. And to make matters even worse, a man with a mask stands behind him, a thick whip in his hand.

 

But it's his face that makes George hurt the most.

 

A dangerous color of paleness, lips cracked and eyes closed. He has another bruise sprouting right below his left eye. He looks so beaten, so hurt.

 

It only takes a few seconds for Washington to react.

 

He storms in, ignoring the curses from the man and unties Alexander without a word to anyone.

 

“The fuck are you doing man!” The guy in the mask spits. And George still ignores him, currently working on the rope at Alex’s feet.

 

“HEY! I said what the fuck are you doing?! I paid for him and you're gonna have to wait your turn like everyone els-”

 

Before the man can say anything else, George is walking out, Alexander in his arms and the boy running after him again.

 

He doesn't look at the people staring at him in the hall. He looks forward, lips in a thin line as he walks with the boy draped over his arms.

 

He’s so light.

 

“What are you doing!” The boy screams out when Washington comes outside of the whorehouse.

 

Washington doesn't answer, instead he takes off his coat and scarf and shoes and begins dressing his unconscious friend.

 

“Please, tell me where you are taking him. Don't….Just don't hurt him please!”

 

George looks up, anger bubbling inside him but then the boy is staring at him in fear and horror.

 

His round brown eyes wide, mouth open. Freckles scattered all across his face.

 

He looks no older than Alexander.

 

“Are you his friend?” Is all Washington asks and the boy shakes his head excessively, curls bouncing all around his face.

 

“Yes, he’s the only thing I have, don't hurt him please. We’ll give you your money back, a free session anything please just don't hurt him.”

 

And Washington flinches at that.

 

“I'm not going to hurt him.” He finally says after a few beats of silence.

 

The boy stays silent.

 

“I'm just going to make sure he is alright.” He looks down at Alexander, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

 

He looks back up at the boy and meets his eyes.

 

And though he still looks scared, he shakes his head.

 

“I...ok.” He finally gives in and Washington stands with Alexander in his arms.

 

“When he wakes up, tell him John took care of everything.” He says silently.

 

And George tries not to get uncomfortable at that.

 

“Yes, alright.”

Then he is walking away.

 

A black cat following him, and a sick boy in his arms.

 

When Washington does get home, he feels less sick than before.

 

Thanks to the heat, Alexander isn't as pale as before. But he still is pale. He’s breathing though so Washington tries not to think of the worst.

 

He slides through his door, holding it open with his foot for Mickey to run in. He decided to bring her. He just couldn't leave her out on the streets by herself. He did it with Alexander and now look where he’s at.

 

The cat disappears but George isn't really paying attention. He cranks up the heat and undresses Alexander.

 

He woke up in the car, but passed back out while George carried him to the apartment.

 

He runs a bath and puts the boy in, trying to clean him. He tries to avoid the welts on his back but they're so red and angry, Washington thinks even he can feel it.

 

So he gets out the fist aid kit, and cleans up Alex, wrapping his wounds.

 

After all of this he gets the smallest items of clothing he can find in his apartment and dresses him. And the boy keeps coming back into consciousness only to pass out again.

 

When he’s done he puts Alex in his bed, tucks him in and turns out the light.

 

He’s cleaning up when the cat reapers staring at him pointdly.

 

So he feeds her.

 

Then cleans up.

 

And he’s numb while he does all of this. Says not one word. Thinks not one thought. He just does it.

 

He stands in the kitchen, gripping the counter so he won't fall over and he just can't understand anything. He doesn't know what just happened.

 

He swallows.

 

Pours a glass of water.

 

And after much debate, he goes back into the room.

 

Alexander looks much better than before, though he still doesn't look too good. And Washington wonders if he should wake him up.

 

He does.

 

He gently shakes the boy until his eyelids flutter and when they are cracked George speaks.

 

“You need water. Drink this.” He simply says, not trusting his voice to say anything else.

 

And at first he’s prepared for Alex to say something, anything. But the boy says nothing. He just takes the cup, drinks a good amount of the water, gives it back to George then goes back to sleep.

 

And Washington just stares numbly at him.

 

He watches the boy, for a few minutes, just to make sure Alexander is really alright.

 

When he can hear him lightly snoring, Washington leaves.

 

He goes back to the kitchen, pouring his own self a glass of water and tries to figure out what's going on.


But the only conclusion he can come to is that he has a sick pale prostitute sleeping in his bed. And a dirty black cat eating food next to his foot.

Notes:

And so it begins..

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Notes:

Heres an update, yayyy.

I was literally falling asleep while rereading this, so Im so sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors. Promise it will be all fixed by tomorrow.

I hope you enjoy xx.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Alexander stumbles out of the bedroom before Washington leaves for work.

 

He’s his normal skin tone, and his eyes aren’t glassy, and his lips aren't grey. His hair has came out from his pony tail and now frames his face in loose curls.

 

And Washington would have said he looked absolutely stunning.

 

But he was too anxious awaiting Alexander.

 

What the boy was going to say.

 

He had a lot of explaining to do.

 

When he does come out, Washington is sitting at the kitchen island, coffee and a half eaten bagel in front of him. When he looks up to see Alexander his eyes rake over the boys dainty body.

 

And Alex just leans against the door frame, almost as if he is still tired which he probably is but refuses to go back to bed. He looks at the ground. The realization of it all just now hitting him.

 

It hit Washington last night.

 

When he was cleaning up cat poop.

 

They stay there, in that position for a few minutes before Washington speaks.

 

“John told me to tell you he took care of everything.” Washington says oddly calm, not looking at Alexander as he says it but instead fiddling with his watch.

 

Alexander says nothing.

 

So they go back to awkward silence again.

 

And it gets to the point where the room actually feels on fire from the dry silence.

 

“How did you find me?” Alex whispers, voice hoarse and low.

 

And it's Washington's turn not to reply, instead he nods over to Mickey, who is currently underneath the couch with her paw sticking out.

 

Alex doesn't answer again.

 

So they go back to silence.

 

Again.

 

And Washington would do anything to understand. To have Alexander explain to him everything. Who he is. And how he ended up at the whorehouse. But instead of an explanation, Alexander gives him a dirty look.

 

“I don't have to explain myself to you.” He narrows his eyes, almost as if he knows what George is thinking. And though George feels like Alexander should explain himself, he doesn't push it anymore. Alexander is still too tired and he doesn't want him to leave

 

Doesn't want him to go back to Brooklyn street.

 

So he agrees.

 

“You don't.” He simply answers, lifting his head up in his calm manner.

 

“And I don't need your pity.” Alex looks away and at the floor again, scowling at it.

 

“And you don't have it.” George answers again.

 

“And I don't need your help.” The boy pushes his hair behind his ears and wow that did something to George.

 

“But I am willing to give it to you anyway.” The older man says carefully and Alexander looks up at that, his brown eyes searching.

 

“But why? I understood before, you thought I was cute and you were lonely. But why now? Are you not disgusted. Isn't this shameful for you? To have some whore in your 10 million dollar apartment?” He huffs.

 

And George tries not to flinch at that.

 

He takes another sip of his coffee, and looks over to Alex.

 

“Would you like some?” He asks and Alex sucks his teeth.

 

“Answer the question George.” Alex crosses his arms.

 

And George shakes his head at that.

 

“Not until you drink or eat something. God knows when the last time you ate was.” He says the last part under his breath but Alexander still catches it and narrows his eyes at him. Nevertheless the boy does join him at the island. He reaches for an apple from the bowl of fruit at the center and Washington gets a clear view of the rope marks around his wrist, angry red and even a bluish purple.

 

He tries not to show he's looking but Alex catches him anyway, and yanks his hands away, fuming.

 

“I'm not some charity case ok?! I know what I'm doing and I'm very capable of surviving and being content. There was no need to come in there and risk everyone's lives because you are obsessed with me! I was fine on my own! I told you to stay away and you didn't and God knows what's going to happen to me when I return I-”

 

“You don't have to return.” Washington cuts him off mid-rant, and yes maybe he should be hurt or offended with what Alexander said to him but he just can't be, he knows Alexander is a bit of a fireball and just shoots off at the mouth without thinking. He didn't mean it.

 

And Alex stops, eyes going wide for a second but then he’s quickly regaining himself and staring at Washington with a scowl.

 

“What?” He spits.



Washington shrugs and tries not to show the amount of nervousness that's drown him.

 

“I said you don't have to return. You can stay here.”

 

Alexander looks at him like he’s got 5 heads. Then he is laughing. It's loud and a little uncomfortable. Booming through the quiet apartment.

 

“You really are crazy.” He says through his fits of laughter.

 

And Washington isn't smiling. He’s just sitting there, waiting for Alexander to stop. He clears his throat and that makes the boy focus again.

 

“I'm not living with a millionaire for free George, especially not one as fucking obsessive and crazy as you.” And he’s smiling when he says this, not his usual contagious smile, but a dark and spitting one. One that Washington doesn't like.

 

“I'm not obsessed with you.” He says simply, gripping his mug a little tighter than before.

 

And Alexander scoffs at that.

 

“Then why did you track me down George?” He puts both hands and elbows on the table, and leans in. George knows what he's doing.

 

He’s baiting him.

 

Trying to corner George with his words.

 

This is how he kills his prey.

 

He uses his words.

 

So Washington swallows hard and tries to fight.

 

“I didn't. I was going to the coffee shop when Mickey found me, she lead me to your...workplace.” He puts the mug down and places both hands on the table as well.

 

He can't show fear.

 

Not if he wants Alexander to stay.

 

Alex looks at him again, brown orbs tracing every part of Washington's face and he can feel the gears in his head turning at an unmovable pace.

 

“So why didn't you leave? Once you realized what was going on?” Alex asks and then Washington is thinking again.

 

“I planned on it, until a boy around your age dragged me inside. Once I realized what was going on, I was getting you down from the ceiling you were hanging from.” He tries to make the last part sound as brutal as it was. Just to make Alexander realize what he was doing.

 

The young boy goes quiet again.

And George can see he is making a new game plan, inside his head, trying to make George seem like the villain.

 

Trying to make George kick him out.

 

“I knew what I was doing.” Alexander mutters, which basically means he ran out of ideas and is surrendering.

 

“I have not one doubt that you didn't.” Washington says seriously.

 

They sit in silence again. The sounds of Mickey's paw scratching the floor filling around them and finally Alexander speaks.

 

“So you just want me all to yourself then?” He smirks and no, Washington realizes he isn't done.

 

He will never be done.

 

“I don't want you at all.” Washington says flatly. “I just want you to be safe.”

 

“Why though?” Alexander asks again, and this time Washington is honest.

 

“I don't know why.” He simply says. He pauses before continuing. “I just know that when I came into that room, and saw how pale, and beaten you were I just couldn't leave you like that. Not knowing what was going to happen, I'm not a big fan of it. I brought you here to help you. That's all I know. And I still want to help you. I know you have no place to go, and I know I have an extra bedroom. It's possible. This is all I know.” He says seriously, eyes never leaving Alexander.



Alexander is quiet for a moment then he speaks.

 

“Well how will I pay for my stay? If I don't...go back to work. I can't live here for free.”

 

And George tries not to let his relief show.

 

“We’ll find you a job, one that requires no experience in your previous one.” Washington tries to put lightly. But he can see the little bit of shame Alexander hides poking through his eyes, so he speaks again.

 

“I'm going to be late.” Washington stands, fixing his tie. “The kitchen is all yours and so is the t.v, I should be back around 6, if you choose to stay that is.” He doesn't wait for Alex to reply, instead he goes to put on his coat, Alexander's eyes burning holes in his back.

 

He goes to look at the boy one more time before he leaves. And when he does, he sees him chewing on the apple.

 

He gets his answer from that.

 

He goes to work.



                                                   *__*__*

 

When Washington walks into his office, Lafayette is sitting in his chair.

 

“Move.” He simply says. And when the Frenchman doesn't, George rolls his eyes. “I'm not in the mood today, Gilbert.” He sighs, setting his suitcase down and taking off his coat.

 

When he does turn around, his friend is staring at him, suspicion lining every part of his body.

 

“Why are you late?” The man asks, accent thick.

 

“I woke up late.” Washington says tightly. He swallows and removes his suit jacket all the while keeping a stern gaze on his friend.

 

He really isn't in the mood.

 

The conversation with Alexander had exhausted him beyond the point, taking all the energy he conjured up in his 3 hours of sleep from last night.

 

He couldn't sleep.

 

But no matter how many dirty looks he gave Lafayette, the man just didn't care. He shrugs off the scowl and continues.

 

“But you never oversleep. From all our time together you have never woken up later than you planned never-”

 

“Well today I overslept! Now can we move on or are you going to interrogate me on what I ate for breakfast as well? Look do me a favor and mind your business alright?” And no, Washington didn't mean for it to come out so mean but god dammit he’s tired.

 

And Lafayette isn't helping at all.

 

His friend is silent for a few moments. He doesn't say anything, he just stares at George, a mix between frustration and sadness on his face.

 

And George can't take it. Not when he’s this tired.

 

“Leave.” The man says. And for the first time, Lafayette does what he is told.

 

But before he leaves he walks over to Washington, puts his hand on his shoulders like a father would do to his son.

 

“I'm going to be right here when you're ready to talk about it, respire” He says to George, then he is walking out of his office.

 

And after spending an entire night suffocating. Washington finally does.

 

He breathes.

 

                                                            *__*__*

 

When he does get back home, he finds Alexander in the kitchen.

 

And at first he’s prepared for another fight. An argument in which he would have to brace himself against the words and sentences that shoot from the young boys mouth. He’s prepared for Alexander to give him an attitude and huff and puff about why his life isn't so bad.

 

But instead, Alex greets him.

 

“Hello.” He says. His voice still a little hoarse.

 

And George is so shocked by it he stares at Alex, his jaw a little slack.

 

“Good evening.” He quickly composes himself and walks in. “Are you cooking?”

 

Alexander shakes his head and his hair is back into its signature ponytail, much to Washington's displeasure.  He looks well rested though and his skin has finally turn back into a healthy color.

 

“I noticed you had some pasta and spaghetti sauce. Thought you might like a real meal for dinner instead of you know, bagels and coffee like usual.” Alex winks at him and George can't understand where this dramatic change came from.

 

“Yes. Thank you.” He says formally and goes to remove his suit jacket.

 

Mickey purrs into the kitchen, sliding in between Washington's legs as a greeting.

 

When Alex is finished cooking, they sit at the island and eat in silence. When they are both close to being finished, the young boy speaks.

 

“I know I may seem like I'm upset with you. I'm not. I'm actually really thankful that you helped me out, even if I was use to what you saw.”

George swallows hard at that.

 

“It's just….what I do is dangerous, who I'm involved with is dangerous. I don't want any problems. Not the problems I seem to always attract.”

 

And Washington wants to know . He wants to know what he means by problems . How did he end up in the whorehouse anyway? There's so much he wants to know, needs to know.

 

But instead he ends up surrendering to Alexander's sort of ‘apology’.

 

“It's ok. I understand. You just seem like a good kid. I don't want you to live that life. Not when you don't have to.” Washington says soberly.

 

Alexander shakes his head, and plays with his fork. “You're very kind George. Too kind for your own good.” He says quietly. And Washington hums in response.

 

“I've seen a lot of wrong doings in my life. Being kind is the only right thing to be.” Washington replies.

 

“You were a soldier right?” Alexander smiles. And for the first time, in a long time, it's the smile Washington saw that made his heartbeat pick up.

 

Just like the first time.

 

“Yes, I was stationed out in my home state, Virginia. Me and my co owner, that how we met.”

 

“Gilbert Lafayette.” Alexander nods along.

 

And when Washington looks at him he shrugs.

 

“I do my research.” And the older man chuckles.

 

“Yes, Lafayette. We opened up the business after we left the war and now here we are.”

 

“Rich and successful.” Alexander rolls his eyes.

 

“I would say so yes.” Washington stands and puts his empty plate in the dishwasher.

 

“Well what were you doing downtown?” Alexander asks, following Washington.

 

“I was interviewing someone for my secretary and assistant spot.”

 

“And have you found someone?” Alexander presses.

 

“Well no, not yet I-”

 

“Perfect! I’ll take it!”

 

And Washington is staring at him again, eyebrows quirked up and mouth a little open.

 

“Oh don't give me that look, it's the perfect job for me. Well it's the perfect job for me to start out with anyway. I could be a lot of help to you.” Alexander shrugs. And Washington is shaking his head.

 

“No, you don't understand Alexander. This job is harder than it sounds, and I don't think you have the experience for it-”

“You don't know any of the experience I have George. And plus this will work out great. I can repay you for letting me stay here. So what's the problem huh?” Alexander narrows his eyes, daring for George to say something.

 

And George isn't really in that daring of a mood today.

 

“It's a lot Alex.”

“Well then I better get started as soon as possible.” He leans against the counter, a smirk on his lips.

 

And Washington is ready to fight with him about it, but suddenly Mickey is at his foot again, looking up at him with her green eyes. Talking to him in that secret language only them two know of.

 

Don't fight with him on this. She is saying to him.

 

He’s not going to change his mind.

 

And Washington bends down to scratch her behind the ear.

 

You're right. He is saying to her.


There's no stopping him once he wants something.

Notes:

Gee, I wonder who Alexander is involved with that is dangerous. *Que dramatic music* Shit is coming you guys.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Notes:

This is actually my favorite chapter so far. Im really proud of it. But I was falling asleep again while rereading it so Im sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes.

I hope you enjoy xx

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When George gets home from work, he hears Alex arguing on the phone.

 

At first it's just murmurs, low growls from his voice. But as Washington gets closer he can form the words.

 

“Did you tell him where I went? Yes I know you have no idea where I am, you know what I mean. Did you tell him who I left with? Is he still looking for me? God John I don't know! I'm thinking about it I just don't know. Give me an hour I'll be there. Just give me an hour!” The young boy then groans and hangs up. When he turns around Washington is standing there staring at him.

 

Normally he would try to hide his eavesdropping, especially with Alexander-the boy could get so mad about that sometimes- but Washington doesn't care anymore. Alexander gets snappy either way so he might as well do as he pleases.

 

“Who was that?” Washington asks. He takes off his coat and unwraps his scarf to try to hide the new found anxiety forming in his body from the look on Alexander’s face.

 

The boy looks scared shitless.

 

He clears his throat, shaking his head a little and looks down.

 

“The boy you spoke to that night...John.” He puts the phone down and walks to get his own coat-Washington bought him a new one, along with a whole new wardrobe- and begins dressing.

 

“What's happening?” Washington asks again.

 

And though he can see the growing annoyance on Alexander’s face he doesn't stop, and Alexander answers anyway.

 

“Nothing, he just needs my help.” He simply says.

 

“Alexander we talked about this-” Washington starts but Alex is shaking his head.

“Not like that.” Alex interrupts. He buttons up the coat and reaches for his keys. His own set of keys to the house.

 

He has keys.

 

And Washington can't remember when he got them.

 

“Let me drive you.” Washington reaches for his coat.

 

“NO!” Alex squeaks, and though it's not in anger it still freaks Washington out a little.

 

The boy looks a bit panicked, shaky and the reality of the situation is starting to set into Washington.

 

“Alexander what's wrong.” His brows knit together at the sight of the young boy.

 

“Nothing. I just don't want you to come, it's too...it will be too much. For John that is.” He looks away and Washington knows he is lying.

 

They've been living like this for two weeks and Washington has slowly but surely been memorizing Alexander. And one of the things he’s memorized is Alexander's facial expressions when he lies.

 

He’ll turn his head slightly to the left, and he’ll press his lips together almost like he’s trying to stop the truth from coming out.

 

He knows Alexander.

 

He knows he is lying.

 

“Alexander.” He says softly, he slowly walks towards the boy making it known that he wants to touch him and when the boy shakes his head he puts his hand on his shoulder.

 

He knows Alexander.

 

He knows that he doesn't like to be touched. And that to touch him, you have to hover your hand over the part of his body you want to touch. If he nods or doesn't move that means it's ok. If he glares or move away that means no.

 

He gives his shoulder a squeeze.

 

“Let me help you.” Washington says quietly and the boy is silent for a moment.

 

“Really. It's fine George. I just need to go back and get something. And I have to help John. Please. You have helped me so much. But, I really need you to stay here. It's for everyone's safety.”

 

And Washington’s stomach drops at that.

 

“What do you mean?” He says tightly.

 

And Alexander is shaking his head.

 

“Nothing.” The boy says.

 

And yea, Washington knows Alexander.

 

He knows when he is scared.

 

And as much as he wants to help. Wants to go with Alexander to Brooklyn street and see what's so ‘dangerous’ but he knows that Alexander is a big boy when it comes to this, and he knows more than Washington will ever know on this subject. He has to trust him.

 

“Ok.” The older man says. And he can see Alexander physically relax and it kind of makes him feel bad.

 

“Thank you.” Alexander smiles and Washington can't help but to feel good at that, making him smile.

 

He offers Alexander his car but the boy refuses, saying it’ll attract too much attention. He said something else under his breath but Washington didn't catch it.

 

Sometimes they're just too low for him to hear it.

 

He goes to the kitchen, looking for something to eat though he’s too nervous to eat. He sees that Alexander has again, made dinner. He makes dinner every night now. And Washington didn't even know he could cook. But every time he comes home from work, Alexander has some type of meal on the table. Washington’s favorite is still the spaghetti.

 

From the first night.

 

But tonight it's, rice and beans and chicken and Washington can't help but to feel something warm inside of him when he sees a plate full of the food at his seat with a fork and a glass of water.

 

He sits down, but he doesn't eat.


Instead he listens to Alexander as the boy looks around for his left boot and a hair tie for his signature ponytail.

 

Eventually, Washington gets lost in his thoughts.

 

All about Alexander, his thoughts they are.

 

It's like he thinks he’s getting closer to the boy, closer to unlocking the enigma that makes him up, but then Alexander is changing the game, and Washington is forced to climb even higher, work even harder to get to him, to understand him.

 

This isn't a healthy relationship.

 

Washington knows Alexander.

 

He knows that Alexander has never had one.

 

He stares out the window, at the city of New York and wonders how many men Alexander has slept with here. How many of those streets Alexander has walked on. How many park benches has he sat on. How long he's been on the streets.

 

He just wants to know.

 

“I'll see you later George.” Alexander says quietly from the doorway.

 

He stands there for a moment.

 

Then leaves.

 

And George knows Alexander.

 

He knows that he will never know Alexander.

                                                             *__*__*

 

He asks Lafayette to meet him at the local bar they used to go to when they were still young boys.

 

He sits on the stool staring at the beer he purchased though he knows he’s not going to drink it.

 

He still hasn't eaten the food.

 

And Alexander has been gone for a long time. 4 hours to be exact. And Washington can't take being at home alone, not without Alexander.

 

As weird as it sounds, he is so used to hearing Alexander cursing under his breath about something, or the sound of his blow dryer going off after he gets out of the shower. Full house playing in the background from the living room, Alexander likes to keep it on, even when no ones watching it.

 

The emptiness that takes over the house isn't his normal anymore and he doesn't want it anyway.

 

So he tries to run back to the past where it was much more full. Much more sweet.

Mon amie Boire la bière pas la regarder.” Washington hears. And he smiles at it.

 

He’s quite shocked at how much he understands Lafayette when he speaks French. He doesn't even know how he understands or when he started to. He just knows it now, though he still can't speak it.

 

“I'm not in the mood for drinking I suppose.” Washington chuckles pushing the glass towards his friend who takes it without a word.

 

“Nonsense, my friend. We only come to a bar for one reason , être ivre.”  Laf chuckles.

 

“That was along time Gilbert, I don't think we can do that anymore.” Washington smiles fondly at him and Laf is shaking his head.

 

“Well we can try.” he simply says.



They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Lafayette drinking his beer in content and Washington wondering about Alexander and hoping he is alright. Finally Lafayette speaks.

 

“So why did you call me down here so late in the day?” He asks, and Washington clears his throat.

 

“Sorry if I was disrupting something, it just seemed as if my home-”

“Silence was getting too loud.” Laf finishes and Washington gives a nod of approval.

 

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Washington says quietly and Lafayette hums in response.

 

“I figured this would happen. You never liked being by yourself.” He finishes the beer and tells the bartender to keep them coming.

 

“We have work tomorrow.” Washington quirks an eyebrow at his friend as he begins a new bottle.

 

“We do, but we also own it so I think we’ll survive.” He pushes a bottle to Washington and though the man isn't in the mood for drinking, he drinks it anyway.

 

After, they go through three bottles Washington makes a noise.

 

“I have found a new secretary.” Washington says a little loose. When did he start getting tipsy off of three bottles of beer? God he’s getting old.

 

Lafayette smiles.

 

“Really? And did you warn them that they're going to have a uh…. crises de panique everyday?” He says with a smirk and Washington is shaking his head.

 

“I told him that and more, and he still wants it. He actually can't wait to start. But I wanted to give him a few weeks to settle in before he goes to work.” Washington stares at the shot that's put in front of him.

 

“I'm not drinking vodka.” He closes his eyes.

 

“Settle in?” Lafayette asks. He has already took his shot. As soon as it was put in front of him and Washington wonders how he can do that.

 

“Yea.” Washington says, picking up the tiny glass and throws his head back, flinching at the burn on his tongue and throat.

 

But it kind of feels good.

 

“What's he settling into if he isn't settling into work?” Laf asks though he isn't really paying attention. A new shot glass has been placed in front of him.

 

Washington doesn't answer.

 

Instead he takes the shot.





He gets his driver to drop both of them off at their homes.

 

As soon as Lafayette opens the door, Washington can hear the yelling of Adrienne.

 

“Que fais-tu stupide!” She screams and then he hears Lafayette groan and he can't help but to chuckle at the two of them.

 

Lafayette is gonna get it though.

 

As the car makes it's way to his home, he leans against the window, relaxing into the coldness of it and watching the street lights as they blend together to make a string of crushed colorful orbs. And he can't help but to feel so empty while watching them. Wishing some of the orbs would find a way into his mouth and let him swallow them.

 

He feels so empty.

 

So bland and colorless.

 

So alone.

 

And no, right now he doesn't miss Alexander.

 

He misses his wife.

 

He couldn't help but to feel a little bit of jealousy, watching Laf walk through that door, getting yelled at by his other half.

 

He misses that.

 

He presses even harder into the window. Missing the way she would wrap her hands around the back of his neck to kiss him, she was always too short.

 

He begins counting the telephone poles that go bye.

 

He misses how she kissed him underneath the one on 7th street.

 

That first goodbye.

 

When he was leaving for the war. A month after the wedding.

 

Underneath that telephone pole.

 

You come back here. She said to him.

 

You come back here and come home with me. Just us and everything will be alright. And everything will go back to our normal. Just make sure you come back here George. Don't be the hero. I need you here.

 

And though Washington did become the hero, he still followed everything she said.

 

He came back home.

 

And it was her that left.

 

She didn't come back when she left. And it was only him and nothing was alright. And his new normal was the silence of a New York city apartment. Martha didn't come back to George. She was a hero. And George needed her here. But she didn't come back.

 

George swallowed.

 

Why didn't she come back?

 

“Mr. Washington.”

 

She was so strong.

 

George doesn't answer. He just nods as a thank you and gets out of the car. Trying to walk in a straight line to seem not a drunk as he really was.

 

When he does get in the house he is met by a meowing cat.

 

“Hi Mickey.” He mumbles, taking off his coat and shoes.

 

The cat rubs against him in response and he looks down to see her matted tail and muddy paws.

 

“Gosh look at you.” He picks her up, and she begins to purr loudly.

 

He blindly starts walking towards the bathroom, holding the cat close to him.

 

He sees no sign of Alexander.

 

He can't really care.

 

He turns the tub on and brings out some soap and no he has no idea what he’s doing but he still does it anyway. He rolls up his sleeves as the cat stares at him, her green eyes greener than before.

 

When the water is warm enough and his hands are soapy Washington puts Mickey into the tub.

 

To his surprise the cat doesn't cry or try to run, she just sits there and let's George clean her.

 

“What kind of cat are you? Do you not clean yourself? And aren't you supposed to hate water? God you're a weird cat.” And Mickey is talking to him again, he just knows it.

 

Shut up old man and just clean me. She is saying.

 

“George?”

 

And his eyes go wide.

 

“Martha!” He gasps, turning around but no it's not Martha.

 

It's Alexander.

 

He’s rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

 

“No, it's me. Alex. What are you doing?” He walks in and sees Mickey covered in soap, a displeased and bored expression now on her face.

 

“Oh.”

 

“She was dirty. I thought she would clean herself but...” He gets some water in his hand and drops it over her head.

 

“George are you alright? You're talking kind of weird.” Alex stands a little closer.

 

He shakes his head. Soaping up his hands again.

 

“I'm fine. I just went out for drinks with Lafayette, we used to do that a lot. And it was funny because every time I came home Martha would be sleep. She didn't even wait for me.” He laughs. “ She would be sleep, and I'd get into bed and then she would move closer to me, still fast asleep.” He scrubs behind Mickey's ear.

 

“Oh George.” Alexander moves closer, touching his shoulder. Just like George would do to him.

 

“I thought that maybe, if I went out drinking and got drunk enough I could come home and get into bed and she would be there. She would be there and she would scoot closer to me in the wiggly worm way she always did.” He rinses off Mickey.

 

“George. George lets go to sleep ok?” Alexander says gently and this is the softest George has ever heard him talk.

 

“Is she in the bed?” George asks.

 

Alexander goes silent for a moment.

 

“Mickey is all clean.” He says, reaching in the tub to get her from George's hands.

 

She meows and runs from the bathroom, leaving nothing but a trail of water.

 

“Tell me she’s in bed.” George says.

 

“Underneath the telephone pole. She didn't come back here.” Washington doesn't know he’s walking until he gets to his bedroom door. Alexanders arm wrapped around his waist.

 

“Go to bed darling.” Alexander says.

 

“I want to kiss her underneath the telephone pole. Just like before. I want her to come home.” George is saying and Alexander is nodding as he gets him out of his suit.

 

“Yes George.” Is all he’s saying.

 

“She’s here, sleeping, waiting for me Alexander.”

 

Alexander is silent.

 

When George is finally dressed, he gets into bed.

 

Alexander doesn't say anything else.

 

He just leaves.

 

Washington lays his head on the pillow, he pulls the covers up and he waits for Martha to tuck herself around him, he waits for her warmth.



However it doesn't come.

Notes:

I made George really sad in this chapter Im sorry. Also danger is coming guys be ready.

Thanks for reading xx

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Notes:

Yikes.

Im so sorry for disappearing. I was just really busy with school because the marking period was ending, then I had work. It was alot. I was shook. But Im back now so yep its happening.

Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Alexander decided to take a taxi to the office.

 

Washington offers to drive him but the young boy only shakes his head and waves his hand.

 

“I can't show up with you. It will look too suspicious.” He says fixing his tie.

 

It's a silk green tie that Washington brought for him. Alexander refused to accept anymore stuff from him but when he showed the boy the emerald green tie he took it quietly. Washington took it as a victory.

 

So Washington watched him quietly, eyes studying the carefully guarded boy as he tries to fix his tie.

 

“Here let me help.” Washington finally says after watching Alexander and his failed attempts at properly tying it.

 

At first he thought nothing of what he was doing, the close proximity to Alexander, the way he could feel his breath on his fingers as he carefully crafted the tie into his favorite style. He didn't notice the way the boy's eyes got wider and his pupils got a little more dilated. He didn't notice any of it until he was taking a step back, suddenly missing the scent that he’s grown to know as Alexander . It smelled of many things, things that Washington linked to Alex. Cinnamon raisin bagels, the ones he used to watch Alexander eat at the coffee shop. Vanilla, the shampoo Alexander uses in his hair. Mint from the gum he was always chewing. And then there was the faint smell of Washington's own cologne, sometimes Alexander would wear his clothes. This was what Alexander smelled like and Washington would never admit it but, God it was lovely.

 

He didn't notice how lovely it was until he was stepping back.

 

“There.” He says, voice a little horse from the new found tension in his chest.

 

Alexander stares at him, almost as if he is thinking the same things as Washington. Almost like he is missing the older man's scent. He studies him closely, and Washington feels uncomfortable under the gaze of his brown eyes.

 

“Well if you're taking a taxi I suppose you call them now, don't want to be late on the first day now.” Before Alexander can reply, Washington is grabbing his coat and rushing out of the apartment.

 

He can still feel the burn of Alexander's eyes, setting his body on fire with a million questions and smoke full of growing desire.

 

He shakes his head.

 

Alexander wasn't staring at him like that.

 

He remembers that night.

 

He pretends not to and Alexander doesn't confront him about it, so he lets it sit between them in a hushed secret and unanswered question.

 

He can't even explain that night.

 

Washington has always been a strong man. He has rarely ever shown emotion, especially to a stranger. And when Martha died yes, he did break down a little. But it was in his bathroom, away from the world and it's prying eyes. And even then he didn't cry. Instead he started to breathe loudly, grabbing onto his face and closing his eyes tightly, trying to stop the memories of his beautiful wife from filling into the functioning parts of his brain.

 

He broke down, but no one saw it.

 

No one should ever see George Washington break down.

 

No one ever did.

 

Until Alexander Hamilton came around.

 

He saw Washington not only crying, but also washing up a dirty ass street cat, chanting his dead wifes name.

 

Alexander Hamilton didn't just see Washington breaking down.

 

He saw him at his rock bottom.

 

The rock bottom in which Washington has been burying deeper down throughout his entire life.

 

He saw it so easily.

 

Washington let him see it so easily.

 

And as he walks to his car he suddenly feels vulnerable. Exposed.

 

Naked.

 

And no he doesn't like it one bit. He’s spent his entire life building this facade as The George Washington. This strong man who has worked for everything he has and has survived a war, the death of his family, and his wife and only continues to grow stronger.

 

But Alexander comes in and he finds himself drunk on the side of a tub cleaning a cat.

 

This isn't normal.

 

And Washington knows it isn't right.

 

So he gets into the car. Lips in a thin line and brows stitched together.

 

It's raining outside. The water creating slush on the side of the New York streets and Washington tries to drive slow but he can't help but to push his foot on the gas a little harder than necessary.

 

Alexander walked into his house, and began picking apart Washington's armour. Peeling it away like it was dry paint on an old wall. And Washington.

 

Washington let him.

 

_____________________________________

 

When Washington does get to work, he is shocked to find Alexander already at his desk.

 

Hes got a few folders with him, a coffee mug (one that looks like it's from Washington's apartment) in his hand.

 

“Good morning sir.” Hamilton says seriously, a curtain of stiff professionalism gracing over him and at first Washington goes silent and a little shocked at it.

 

He isn't used to Alexander calling him sir. And he doesn't know if he likes it or not.

 

Whatever his opinion was on the matter would have to wait, his mouth speaks before he comes to terms with it.

 

“Good morning Hamilton.” Washington says curtly, not even stopping to look him in the eye.

 

Hamilton may be able to mysteriously unlock him at home.

 

But he refuses to let him get him here. This is his territory. He is the general here.

 

So Washington puts on a straight face and tries to focus on his work.

 

Alexander comes in and out through the day, collecting papers to reread, lunch to get, and coffee mugs to refill.

 

It's when they are currently typing away on their respectable laptops when Lafayette comes in, eyebrow raised at Alex.

 

“Is this the new assistant?” He says playfully, that classic winning smile on his face.

 

And though Alexander looks a little tired and lost, he smiles his own winning smile nonetheless.

 

“It is.” He stands and holds out his hand, proper. And Washington takes note of it.

 

“My name is Alexander Hamilton.” He smiles again, this one showing the discombobulation and tiredness of the day.

 

Lafayette raises a brow again and shakes his head, showing that he likes what he sees.

 

“Il est si petit George.” Lafayette says, his accent thick. And Washington is shaking his head.

 

“English, Laf. It's rude to do that with someone who doesn't understand you.” He signals to Alexander who remains quiet.

 

Lafayette doesn't acknowledge what Washington says and instead focuses his attention back to Alex.

 

“And I am Marquis de Lafayette, but you can just call me Lafayette. Better than the ‘sir’ George is making you call him.”

“I am not making him do anything Lafayette and we all know your name is actually Gilbert.” Washington says tightly, eyes never leaving the computer screen.

 

Alex chuckles at that, and Lafayette rolls his eyes. He turns to Washington, a smile in his voice.

 

“Ne me gêne pas devant du petit lion. ” He says eyes bright. Washington raises an eyebrow at the nickname but Lafayette is already turning back to Alexander.

 

“Ignore him, he can be quite moody sometimes, you’ll learn that soon enough.” Alex shakes his head, trying not to laugh and Washington clears his throat.

 

“Don't you have your own assistant to bother?” Washington says in a stern voice, but the Frenchman flinches not once.

 

“I do, but it seems Mr. Hamilton here needs something to smile about. Vous êtes le tuer .

 

Hamilton remains silent while Washington speaks.

 

“I've done no such thing.”

“Why don't we ask him? Mr. Hamilton, has George been making your life a living hell here so far hmm?” Lafayette asks and Alexander laughs.

 

Washington feels warm at it.

 

“No sir, Mr. Washington has been extremely kind to me, in many ways.” Alex smiles and Washington knows the boy isn't just talking about this job.

 

Lafayette looks suspicious but drops the matter nonetheless.

 

“Il n'est pas dit la vérité.” He finishes and Washington rolls his eyes at that.

 

“Alright, I’ll believe you, for now.” He turns and begins for the door but first he stops and turns to Washington.

 

“Je prie pour qu'il va survivre Lafayette says aloud, and before he can make his dramatic exit, Alexander is speaking.

 

“J'ai toujours survivre”  Alexander says suddenly. And his voice is slick, smooth and thick like syrup.

 

Both Washington and Lafayette stare at him with panic and wide eyes, jaws slack in disbelief.

 

Has he understood everything?

 

Hamilton smirkes, quirking his eyebrow at the two men before sitting back down at his desk to shuffle papers.

 

They stare at him some more and then Laf is speaking.

 

“Well. This has been...educating….I….I should go to that….meeting...” Then he is gone.

 

And Washington wants to laugh at that. At the fact that someone has finally rendered the Frenchman speechless but he doesn't and instead looks at Alexander.

 

“I didn't know you spoke French.” He tries to say nonchalantly and hopes that the shakiness he is feeling isn't heard in his voice.

 

“I can't show off all of my assets at once sir.” Hamilton replies, not looking up from his stack of papers.

 

“So that meant you understood everything he said?” Washington asks though he already knows the answer.

 

“Yep.” Alex starts. He looks up and then back down again. “And I must say that I like that nickname quite a lot. Little lion. Very charming.” He smiles at Washington and suddenly everything is normal again.



Washington hums in response but doesn't say anything else.

 

He just takes this new found information about the boy and stores it in his brain.

 

Hamilton can speak French.

 

_________________________________________________________

 

After what seems like years, the day is finally over.

 

Washington dismisses Hamilton in a stiff professional kind of way.

 

He pats the boy on the back, in that soothing way he knows Hamilton likes, and gives him a nod of approval.

 

“God job my boy. You can go home now, get some rest.” He tries to make it sound as foreign as possible.

 

Tries to make it sound like he has no idea what Hamilton will be doing after he walks out of those office doors. Like Alexander isn't coming back to his apartment and putting on one of Washington's old Harvard tee shirts. He tries to make it sound like Alexander isn't going back to his home to lay on the couch and watch episodes of Full House in that Harvard tee shirt.

 

But some of the familiarity bleeds through his words and Alexander is giving him a small knowing smile and suddenly Washington can't breathe very easy.

 

“Thank you sir. I couldn't have asked for a better first day.” And Washington doesn't know if Alexander is being serious, or just teasing but either way he feels good about the comment.

 

Alexander leave first, catching another taxi. And Washington follows close behind.

 

When Washington does get home, Alexander is already in the kitchen cooking.

 

He walks in, silent. Waiting for Alexander to speak first, waiting to see how the boy is doing and if he is in the mood to speak at all.

 

He does this because he notices something is off with Alexander the moment he walks in.

 

The boy's shoulders seem tense and his hair is still in a tight ponytail, not at all like the loose bun he usually does when he gets in for the night.

 

He’s leaving back out.

 

“What time will you be back?” Washington asks simply, trying to hide the newfound coldness and frustration in his voice.

 

If Alexander notices it, he ignores it.

 

“I don't know.” He sighs.

 

And Washington leaves before he says something he is going to regret later.

 

He sits on the couch, Full House playing on the t.v though he isn't paying attention to it.

 

After about 20 minutes Alexander calls him in for dinner.

 

He made something simple. Some chicken and vegetables covering the entire giant plate with a glass of water sitting next to it.

 

“Thank you.” Washington says. And he sits and begins eating.

 

He can hear Alexander fumbling in the background. Cleaning up and washing dishes and when he’s done with all that he goes to put on his coat.

 

It's silent for the most part. Except for the sounds of the fork hitting the plate and the zipping up of coats and boots.


FInally he hears Alexander clear his throat.

 

“Thank you.” he says quietly. And he pauses for a moment and begins to speak again.

 

“Thank you for everything. You don't know how grateful I am.” Alexander laughs a dry and bitter laugh.

 

“And I know it's hard to understand George but, I just can't up and leave from what I was doing before. I still have unfinished business. I still have to fight.”

 

“So let me help you.” Washington doesn't turn around to look at him, he has no energy to.

 

“Don't. You're helping me enough...I...I don't want you to get hurt.”

 

“Nothing can hurt me.” Washington proclaims. And yes, it's true.

 

“I can. And I won't. I won't.” Alexander touches his shoulder.

 

It goes silent between them again. And Washington can't take it.

 

“What are you fighting for?” Washington stares at the half empty glass of water. “Tell me what are you doing? Who are you?” He looks up at the young boy but Alexander is already at the door.

 

He never answers the question.

 

“I'll see you later George.” Alexander says over his shoulder.

 

Then he is gone.

 

And Washington doesn't know how long he is sitting in that chair, staring at that glass of water but he does know how hard his heart jumped when his phone rang.

 

He picks it up in fear, hoping it's Alexander but at the same time hoping it's not.

 

He doesn't know exactly what he was expecting but he wasn't expecting the name Angelica Schuyler to be on the screen.

 

He answers it nonetheless.

 

“Hello?” He answers.

 

“George? Hi it's me, Angelica Schuyler. I didn't know if you had my number or not.” She says sweetly, and maybe if George was much more younger and naive he would've said Angelica sounds like a sweet and caring daughter with honey to her voice,but he isn't. He knows that that's only half of Angelica Schuyler. Actually it's less than half of her character.

 

“Hello Ms. Schuyler.” Washington says formally and he can hear Angelica suck her teeth.

 

“If you call me Ms. Schuyler, that means I would have to call you Mr. Washington. And rest assured George, I am in no mood to be formal with my uncle.” And Washington almost smiles at that.

 

Almost.

 

“I am not your uncle though.” He replies.

 

“You are close enough.” And he can practically see Angelica rolling her eyes.

 

“If so than why have you waited so long to call me?” Washington asks matter of factly.

 

“We've been having some issues.” Angelica answers and suddenly he can hear the tiredness in her voice.

 

“What do you need?” Washington asks.

 

“We need a break.” And Washington knows just who the we consists of.

 

“I can't say that New York will be anything different from London, my love.” Washington looks out the window above the sink, watching as the lights of the city blow up into tiny little stars of a dark night.

 

“You'd be surprised George. Things always seem predictable until they are in your face.” Angelica says quietly.

 

“When will you be up?” Washington begins for his room, the weight of the day finally settling in on his bones.

 

“Can you give us a week?” Angelica breathes deep.

 

“Of course, I'll email you your hotel details and what not.” Washington reaches his room and opens the door, his heart sinking with the memories of what happened a few nights ago.

 

With Alexander.

 

“You do realize you can just text me it right?” He can hear the smile in the girl's voice and so he pulls out a light chuckle despite his overall emotion.

 

“Right, I'll try that first.”

 

“Thank you George, so much. We’ll see you there next week.” Angelica says.

 

“Anytime, can't wait to see the three of you.” George finishes. And at first he thinks he should tell Angelica about Alexander but then he remembers how tired he is and how beaten down Angelica sounds and the fact the Alexander is god knows where and suddenly he keeps his mouth shut.

 

Angelica whispers a goodnight. And hangs up the phone.

 

After Washington is finished with his nighttime routine he gets into bed.

 

And something about it feels more empty than usual, and he can't really explain it.

 

Maybe it's the fact that he doesn't hear that blow dryer going off in the background.

 

Or that he doesn't smell the cinnamon raisin bagels that are usually in the toaster by now for a snack.

 

Or maybe it's the fact that Alexander isn't home again.

 

Whatever it is, Washington tries to push it out of his mind.

 

Alexander was gone but he would be back by morning.

 

And Washington's headache would be gone by morning.

 

He had to focus and get everything ready for his dear friends.

 

There is too much to do.


The Schuyler sisters would be arriving in less than 7 days.

Notes:

And here we go.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Summary:

Meet the Schuyler Sisters.

Notes:

This is a long chapter guys. Sorry about that.

Chapter Text

Things kind of go back to normal after that.

 

Well as normal as George thinks it can get.

 

The two go to work, in separate cars and they work in robotic ways.

 

Though Alexander was stressed out that first day, it proved to be only the beginning of a long and grueling job.

 

Washington would make him write 11 page reports in the span of a day. Not only would Alexander be in charge of Washington's life, he would essentially be taking care of the company itself. Writing drafts for the owners to read in public, scheduling and rescheduling Washington's meetings. Booking trips for the man, and maintaining all of his appointments with other very big, very important people. And now that it was revealed he was fluent in French, he would help with Lafayette as well. Writing letters to the man's family, or colleagues in French since Lafayette's own secretary could not.

 

He would be running around the building, snapping at anyone who looked like they weren't working hard enough though, they were trying their best.

 

He barely slept from Washington's point of view. Alexander would be up typing when he was going to bed, and when Washington woke for the day, Alexander would be in that same position still typing.

 

He looked tired and beat down. He looked exhausted and was growing to have the temper of a mad man.

 

Yet, he complained not once.

 

Whatever crazy thing George requested Alexander would just say ‘Yes sir’ and boom, it would be done within a few hours.

And it wasn't a half ass product either. Every report, every presentation, every speech, it was absolutely perfect.

 

Washington didn't know what to do. They had only been working for a few days and Alexander was already in full swing and wide awake.

 

He was worried about the boy at first, wondering if all this was too much for the dainty little body. Then he would also think of the fact that Alexander was stilling leaving in the middle of the night, probably back to Brooklyn street. Washington would feel uneasy, almost like he was assisting in the boy's own self destruction.

 

But then he would remember it was Alexander. Memories from that day the young boy met Lafayette.

 

J'ai toujours survivre.

 

I always survive.

 

And Washington wouldn't feel bad about burying Alexander up to his nose in work. But only about the fact that Alex has always survived...on his own.

 

He wonders when the last time Alexander had a friend was.

 

He then thinks of John, the skinny little boy he met at the whore house and he tries to let his guilt sink down a little.

 

He hadn't known Alexander that long, it was only 2 months of them being friends and Washington tried to help Alexander as much as he could. And he didn't want to sound like a douche but he thought he was helping Alexander just fine.

 

He got him off the streets, got him a job, gave him a purpose other than spreading his legs.

 

He felt like he done enough yet something in him wanted to help Alexander even more, more than what he was doing now and he just couldn't understand why.

 

He still knew close to nothing about the boy and his checkered past. And what he did know seemed like a recipe for disaster. He was essentially a hot mess yet Washington was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was the unknown of Alexander.

 

The fact that he was broken and covered in questions to which he would never give George answers to.

 

And Washington would never admit it, but he liked to fix things.

 

And maybe he just really wanted to fix Alexander. Though he knew it would never be possible to do just that.

 

At least not easily. And Washington was fine with that.


He was.

 

“Good morning sir.” Alex greets tiredly. When Washington looks up he finds the boy stumbling in with a bag full of food in one hand and a cupholder full of coffee in the other. He has a bunch of folders under his chin and his tie is undone. He was also sporting a new briefcase that was currently stuffed full of papers.

 

“You look horrible.” Washington greets back and he can hear Alexander scoff.

 

“Thanks for the words of encouragement sir.” Alex rolls his eyes and Washington nods in response.

 

Alex puts the stuff down on his own desk and gives Washington his food.

 

“Plain bagel with a tiny bit of cream cheese cut in half. And a large coffee, black with 6 sugars.” Alexander places the food right in front of Washington and before Washington can speak, Alexander is already on it.

 

“I know you're having stomach issues again.” Washington goes to reply but Hamilton gives him a snappy look and he shuts up again.

 

“So I moved your doctor's appointment up by a full week, it's Wednesday. And before you say anything I know that was your meeting date with John Adams but he has the flu and had to reschedule anyway. That meeting will be in about two weeks. I also took the liberty of pushing back your meeting with James Monroe, considering the fact that he annoys you to no end, and I don't want you stressing out right now, not when it can damage your stomach even more. I know you wanted to see the presentation before I emailed it to Monroe but you fell asleep before I could send it and knowing you and Lafayette had to get up early today for the stocks meeting I didn't want to wake you. Talking about the stocks meeting I got your note about it, I'm almost finished with the report it should be ready by lunch. Along with your soup. You're eating soup now. Dr. Rawlins thinks it would be better for you to just stick with that and bread until you see him.”

 

Washington could feel his eye twitch.

 

“Breathe Alexander, air is the most essential thing for a human I hope you know.”

 

He can see Alex relax a little but other than that, the boy remains professional.

 

“Sorry, sir.”

 

He hands Washington a water bottle and when the older man looks up at him he looks away.

 

Washington raises an eyebrow.”You ok over there?” He asks skeptically.

 

“Yes. I'm fine.” Alexander says, his back facing Washington.

 

They sit there like that for a few seconds.

 

And Washington wants to asks another question but he choses not to, Alexander has already been going through it. He holds his tongue for now.

 

“I need you to book 3 hotel rooms at the Hilton.” Washington opens his coffee to take a sip.

 

“3? Why?” Hamilton asks turning around. His eyes are still on his desk but Washington can still see the cluelessness in his face.

 

“I have some friends coming up for a visit in about 3 days.” He pauses waiting for Alexander to asks but the boy doesn't so he chooses to end the conversation there.

 

“Alright, it should be done before the end of the day.” Alexander nods and then he’s back up again, with the remainder of the food.

 

“I'm going to give this to Lafayette and Burr.” He says, removing his suit jacket.

 

“Whose Burr?” Washington asks.

 

“Lafayette's secretary.” Hamilton raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Is he new?” Washington tries to think of a Burr...but comes up with nothing.

 

“Yea, if you consider 3 years new.” Alexander rolls his eyes, and Washington tries to suppress a chuckle.

 

“I've never seen him.”

 

“Of course you haven't George.” And it's the first time Hamilton said his name in the building before.

 

He figures out that he likes it when Alex calls him by his actual name.

 

Alex leaves without another word.

 

And Washington goes back to work.

 

__________________________________________

 

Alexander asks for him to get his hoodie out of his room.

 

They are currently waiting for the Schuyler sisters to arrive at Washington's apartment.

 

Alex prepared a meal consisting of spaghetti again, and it was going fine until he spilled the sauce on his shirt.

 

“Oh fuck me honestly.” He spits angrily trying to wipe it off with a napkin.

 

Washington chuckles lightly at that.

 

“You might as well change, you're only making it worse.” He says amusedly to the young boy and Alexander glares at him in response.

 

“Oh it's no use for all that, can you go into my room and get my Harvard hoodie off the chair?” He says it without realizing it.

 

His Harvard hoodie.

 

It's actually Washingtons but it seems that nothing is Washington's now.

 

And he’s ok with that.

 

“Sure.” Washington puts down the book he was reading and begins his walk to Alexander's room.

 

When he does get in there and turn on the light he is quite shocked to find the room relatively clean.

 

He’s always imagined Alexander to be messy. Considering the fact that everything about Alexander was messy, except for his ponytail.

 

But then Washington is remembering the fact that Alexander is barely in this room, and he barely sleeps in general and so therefore it would make sense that this room isn't very messy.

 

He goes over to the desk and grabs the navy blue hoodie off the chair and he’s getting ready to leave back out until he notices it.

 

The bottle is half empty and it has a blue pump at the top. George picks it up feeling the coldness of the glass against his fingers.

 

CoverGirl Outlast Stay Fabulous 3-in-1 Foundation, Washington reads on the bottle. And he wants to laugh. He wants to laugh really loudly and then go back to Alexander and laugh at him some more, tease him on the fact that he has foundation in his room.

 

He looks around, looking to see if there is any eyeliner or lipstick or mascara Alexander is also hiding but he sees nothing.

 

It must only be the foundation.

 

Washington raises an eyebrow at that, suddenly confused.

 

He takes the foundation and walks back out to the kitchen where Alexander is still rubbing at his shirt.

 

“Here.” Washington hands the hoodie over to Alex, foundation still tightly wrapped up in his fingers.

 

“Thanks.” Alexander mutters, pulling it over his head.

 

“What's this?” Washington asks, holding up the bottle.

 

After first he can see the panic in the young boy's eyes but then he relaxes again.

 

“Well what do you think it is.” Alex tries to snap but in the end it's a little weak.

 

“Why are you wearing makeup?” Washington asks instead.

 

Alex crosses his arms, looking away and Washington starts to wonder exactly where the foundation is.

 

Is it everywhere?

 

“Do you always wear it?” Washington continues to asks questions.

 

“Only when my breakouts are extremely noticeable and when my bags are quiet purple and blue. Only when I look a mess.”


“But you never look a mess.” Washington is talking to himself more than Alexander, staring at the bottle in his hand.

 

“I do.” Alex replies. And then he is taking the bottle away from George. “I asked you to get my hoodie, not explore my personal belongings.” He snaps and this time it does sound like a spit.

 

“Sorry.” Washington puts his hands up in surrendered. “I was just curious.”

 

They sit in a silence until Alexander rolls his eyes and heads back to his room.

 

Mickey stunts out of the bathroom, with a bored expression on her face. He bends down to greet her, rubbing her head and scratching the back of her neck.

 

“Where have you been these past few days?” George asks, rubbing her ear.

 

“Have you always been here?” The cat looks at him with her green eyes.

 

“She’s good at hiding.” Comes Alexander from the doorway.

 

“I see that.” Washington stands and the cat is purring wrapping around his leg. “It's just... I forgot she was even here.” He shakes his head at the cat.

 

“Well I guess she just didn't want to be known.”

 

“Why not?” Comes Washington.

 

“She's a street cat. She's taught that her existence only bothers people.”

 

“But that's not true at all.” He says to Alexander, looking down at the black cat.

 

“Yea, well when you're raised to believe that you burn everything you touch, you would want to be invisible as well.”

 

And Washington remembers what Alexander said to him that night.

 

I burn everything I touch.

 

He opens his mouth to ask Alexander what did he mean by that but then there is a knock at the door.

 

“That must be them.” Alex says suddenly, his voice a little light.

 

Washington fixes his tie and goes to open the door.

 

They are louder than he remembered. Or maybe they were just excited to see him.

 

“GEORGE!” Peggy screams running into his arms and jumping on him.

 

He grunts in response, partly from the pain. Peggy is much more heavier than what he remembered.

 

But then again, Peggy was like 13 when he picked her up like this.

 

Now she is 16.

 

Damn.

 

"Margarita, so very nice to see you again.” He puts her down and tries not imagine how much his back is going to hurt in the morning.

 

“Why is that George? The most handsome man in all of New York?” Eliza smiles. And it's still sweet, still childlike, even if she is 18 now.

 

“You flatter me a little too much sometimes, I hope you know.” He gives her a nod of approval, and a kiss on her temple.

 

And then there she is.

 

The eldest Schuyler sister at just 19. And when Washington looks at her he sees her mother. A spitting image of Catherine, from the high cheekbones to the thin lips, and then those dark brown eyes, filled with determination.

 

“Angelica.” Washington cracks a small smile at the sight of her.

 

“Mr. Washington.” She teases. She strides over to him, her head held high.

 

At first they shake hands. Formal and professional. And then after of few moments of silence, they hug. And George can smell the vanilla soap she bathes with and suddenly it feels like home again.

 

“I've missed you all so much.” He says when all three of the girls are in his arms.

 

“We’ve missed you too.” Comes Angelica from his shoulder.

 

Alexander clears his throat. And the girls turn around to him.

 

“I suddenly feel like I'm intruding.” He smiles his winning smile and Washington feels warm.

 

“My apologies.” Washington steps around the girls to stand in between them.

 

“Alexander, these are the Schuyler sisters.” He nods at them as he speaks.

 

“This is Peggy, Eliza and-”

 

“Angelica.” Angelica cuts in, taking a step forward to hold out her hand.

 

“Nice to meet you.” She says sweetly but Washington can hear the domination in her voice.

 

Alex must notice it too because he raises an eyebrow, taking a step forward towards her.

 

“Nice to meet you as well.” He gives her a firm handshake and she hums in response.

 

“You'll have to excuse my sister.” Comes Eliza, she takes a step forward too but in Washington's direction, though she keeps steady eye contact with Alexander.

 

“She can be a bit, over the top when it comes to first impressions.” She rolls her eyes fondly and Angelica scoffs.

 

“And you'll have to excuse my sister.” Angelica repeats in a teasing tone.

 

“She can be a bit shy when it comes to first impressions.”


Washington shakes his head at the banter.

 

“Alexander is my new secretary. He’s only been working for about 2 weeks and he's already joined at my hip. This is why he will be joining us for dinner tonight.”

 

“I'm hard to shake I guess.” Alexander jokes.

 

“I bet.” Angelica says smoothly and Alex raises another eyebrow.

 

“I told him of your arrival and he was quick to offer to cook, he’s quite good at it if I must say.” Washington begins towards the dinning room and they all follow.

 

“Can't wait to put that to the test. I'm starving!” Comes Peggy, rushing in front of everyone to the table.

 

For the most part, the conversations at the table were quite enjoyable.

 

The Schuyler sisters couldn't give an answer as to how long they would be staying out in New York but Washington didn't mind at all. It's been awhile since he was around family, and he was in no rush to be alone again.

 

It was revealed that Peggy wanted to become a botanist. She had made up her mind and was final about it, no matter the protest of her father. Angelica would be studying law and attending Harvard in the spring. Much to her father's dismay.

 

“I'm surprised he doesn't want you to become a lawyer.” Washington sipped his water.

 

“If he doesn't want you to become a lawyer, then what?” He asked and Angelica shook her head.

 

“Something far too inferior for my nature. So disgusting I will not repeat it.” She rolls her eyes, and Peggy giggles.

 

“And what about you, Eliza?” Alex asks from behind his glass. Washington notices the way he looks at her and he doesn't feel too good about it.

 

“What about me, Mr. Hamilton?” Eliza giggles and Washington finally understands what's going on.

 

Angelica does to.

 

She clears her throat and the two cease their laughing and Alex continues.

 

“What are you going to be doing? If you don't mind me asking.”

 

“I don't really know.” She pauses then continues. “I imagine something with children but I'm quite empty I'm afraid.” And Washington hums.

 

“Has your father heard this?” He asks with the faint hint of a smirk.

 

“Of course not.” Eliza smiles. “It seems all three of the Schuyler sisters are embarrassing their loving daddy.” Peggy laughs at that.

 

“And what about you Mr. Hamilton?” Eliza corks an eyebrow. “I know that George is a loving man with a kind heart but surely you don't want to be his secretary forever.” She puts her fork down and picks up her napkin.

 

Washington is ready to answer for Alexander but the boy speaks up instead.

 

“Well you are right on a number of things, Washington is kind and I don't want to be a secretary forever.” He laughs.

 

“But.” Eliza continues.

 

“But.” Hamilton repeats. “I look forward to having as much time with Washington as he will let me.”

 

“What did you study?” Angelica asks, and again George is ready to speak for him but Alexander shocks him with his next sentence.

 

“I studied law and government.” He stares at Angelica when he says this, not breaking eye contact at all.

 

“Where?” Angelica tilts her head up, challenging Alexander almost.

 

“Columbia.” He says, eyes filled with fire.

 

Washington chokes on his water.

 

He sputters and begins coughing like a mad man putting his hands over his face in an effort to not look as ridiculous as he was feeling.

 

Peggy stands and runs over to him, hitting him in the back screaming “COME ON UNCLE DON'T DIE NOW!” Eliza looks on concerningly while Angelica smirks from her side at the table.

 

“Washington?” Alexander asks worriedly. “Sir?”

 

It's silent except for Washington's horrid coughing, Peggys screaming, and Angelica's laughing.

 

Finally when his coughing ceases he looks at Alexander.

 

“I didn't know you went to Columbia.” He breathes heavy.

 

Hamilton blushes a little and looks down.

 

“I left after a year.” He says quietly. “I didn't feel like it was for me.” He says quietly.

 

“Yes well that's how things are now.” Angelica cuts in. “The best universities in the world turn out to be bullshit and fake. I don't blame you for leaving.”

 

Alexander shakes his head, and the conversation moves on.

 

_______________________________________________________________

 

He helps Angelica into her coat. Chanel obviously.

 

“Well this was very lovely, you are a wonderful cook, Alexander.” Comes Eliza as she buttons her own Chanel coat up.

 

“Thank you, I try. I'm just glad to make myself useful around high class folks and million dollar babies.” He teases and that gets him a giggle from Peggy.

 

“You're one of us...Columbia University.”  She nudges his arm and he laughs nervously.

 

“Sure.” He says watching the ground.

 

Washington notices.

 

As they are shuffling out the door, Angelica stops him by the shoulder.

 

“How are you doing.” She asks quietly. She puts her perfectly manicured hand on his arm. A look of sadness in her eyes.

 

“I'm alright.” He says quietly, watching Peggy fumble with her coat and Alex and Eliza laughing at her.

 

“I never got to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.” She says lightly, lowering her voice to just above a whisper.

 

“I never got to tell you how sorry I was about yours as well.” He says quietly and Angelica chuckles.

 

“I suppose we are both very sorry. Guess all the money in the world can't save us sometimes.” She says looking down.

 

“You're mother was very brave.” He tells her.

 

“of course she was.” Angelica scoffs. “She just wasn't strong enough.”

 

“Don't say that.” Washington says seriously.

 

“That's what the doctor said, and who am I to argue with him.”

 

And Washington wants to continue the conversation but he doesn't.

 

“Peggy looks very happy at least.” He nods over to the little girl as she plays with Mickey on the floor.

 

“Yes, partly because of your new companion.” Angelica tells him.

 

“Oh yea?” Washington raises his eyebrow. “Which one?”


“Both.” She answers and Washington hums in response.

 

“Alexander seems to really like you guys. Especially-

 

“Eliza.” Angelica finishes. “Yes, Ive noticed.”

 

They stare at the three and the black cat for a few moments.

 

“Where did you find him?” Angelica asks and Washington's throat drys.

 

“If I tell you, I'd have to kill you.” He jokes and Angelica sucks her teeth.

 

“Fine. Keep him a secret. I'm sure Eliza will do a complete stalker routine check up when we get back to the hotel anyway.”

 

“I'm sure of it.” Washington chuckles and he gives Angelica a light hug.

 

“He’s a fighter. I just know it.” Angelica fixes her hair.

 

“How do you know it?” Washington asks.

 

“I just do. I know practically everything.”

 

“Sure Angelica.” Washington rolls his eyes fondly.

 

She turns around to walk but then stops and hurries back over to him.

 

“Just...be careful with that one love. He will do what it takes to survive.” She whispers and there's something in her eyes but Washington doesn't know what.

 

He doesn't answer her and instead she walks towards the door.

 

“Nice to make your acquaintance Alexander.” She gives him a smile and he returns it back.

 

“Acquaintance? I thought we were friends Ms. Schuyler.” He answers.

 

“No. Not yet.” She gives him a smirk and leaves out the door, her sisters following close behind.

 

When Alexander does close the door he looks over at Washington with a smile.

 

“That went...well.” He says to the older man and Washington smiles.

 

“It did. I didn't know you went to Colombia.” He says and Alex looks down.

 

“Yea, guessed you learned something new about me today.”

 

“Guess I did.” Washington puts his hands behind his back.

 

“Goodnight George.” Alexander begins his walk towards his bedroom.

 

“Goodnight Alex.” George finishes and he can see Alex hesitate for a minute.




They both go to their rooms and shut their doors.

Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Notes:

I know I posted like yesterday, but I just couldn't wait to get this chapter up. This is another one of my favorites. I don't know If I will be posting tomorrow, mostly because I wont be home at all, but Ill try to have something to post Friday. But don't quote me on that because I'm going to be really busy Friday as well. Anyways I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any errors.

Chapter Text

He kisses her on that spot behind her ear.

 

The one that he knows will make her squirm.

 

And she does.

 

It's a wiggly squirm and she moves closer to his chest. Turning around she presses her lips to his neck. She sighs and so does he.

 

“Can't we just stay here forever?” She whispers, and he laughs.

 

“I'm afraid not. We both have much to do, and we can't do it in bed.” And she sighs against him again.

 

“I would rather let everything go and just be here with you. Forever.”

 

He doesn't hesitate.

 

“I want to be here with you forever too.”

 

They go silent for a few moments and it's comfortable and soft.

 

“We have to get up.” He smiles, though he moves not one inch. Neither does she. Instead she does a little cat stretch and buries her face deeper in the crook of his neck.

 

“We don't have to do anything. Let stay here a little longer. Just a little longer my love.” And he can't help but to bury his nose into her soft hair.

 

“Alright. But if I get into trouble I'm blaming it on you.” He says quietly and she laughs, and despite her tiny frame, her laugh is big and powerful. Loud and booming and it echos through his bones in the best way possible. It even makes him laugh. And he doesn't laugh that much, it isn't in his character to laugh a lot but yet here he is, laughing, shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling.

 

“Fair enough.” She finally manages to pull out of her laughing and she sits up to look at him, her strawberry hair falling around her freckled shoulders.

 

“I'll take the blame Mr. Washington.” She bites her lip.

 

And he stares at them eagerly without shame.

 

It's when she's leaning back down, her peach smelling hair falling on his face…

 

That he wakes up.

 

His alarm clock beeps a horrid sound filled with terror and anger.

 

At first he stares at it, watching the machine scream over and over again, debating on whether he should break it or not. He would just get a new one after if he did.

 

But then after realizing grown men don't break clocks, he choses not to. And instead he just silences it, with a light touch to the top.

 

It's a morning where everything feels wrong.

 

Sadness and loss has settled into his bones and they are heavy because of it. His skin feels dry and tight, like if he stretches it will all tear apart and his insides will be splattered across the walls.

 

It's the morning where he wouldn't mind.

 

To see his insides out that it is.

 

And he knows that's not healthy to think but he’s just so damn sad .

 

He gets ready for work, avoiding all mirrors and windows as much as possible and manages to keep his headache at a pain level of 9 out of 10.

 

When he does walk out of his room he’s met with the scent of pancakes and bacon.

 

He walks into the kitchen to find Alexander with his hair down and his feet bare. He's dressed in a navy suit, the tie is undone as usual.

 

Washington doesn't say anything.

 

He just stands at the doorway and waits for Alexander to see him, and doesn't feel like making his presence known, not today atleast.

 

Eventually after washing some pots Alexander does turn around to Washington. He jumps a little but relaxes quickly after.

 

“Jesus! You scared the hell out of me, why didn't you say anything?” He begins to pull his hair up into its signature clean ponytail.

 

Washington doesn't say anything. He grunts a light grunt and then sits at the table, pouring himself a coffee, putting 6 packets of sugar into it. No cream.

 

Alexander notices his quietness and stills from what he was doing.

 

“George? Are you alright?” He asks. And Washington nods.

 

“I'm fine.” He says tightly. Not looking up from his stirring.

 

Alexander goes quiet at that. He doesn't say anything else the rest of the morning.

 

________________________________________________________

 

“I'm refusing to wear black.” Comes Lafayette as he rushes into the room, throwing the invitation on Washington's desk.

 

And Washington really wants to ignore his friend but he finds that to be impolite so he picks up the invitation to read it.

 

You are cordially invited to the

62 annual International Debutante Ball

On behalf of:

Margarita Schuyler

 

He doesn't read on.

 

Instead he hands the dainty pretty white card back over to Lafayette, without a word.

 

The Frenchman stills for a moment, eyebrow quirked. He looks over to Hamilton but the young boy says nothing either. He shakes his head ‘no’ and gives him a thumb down. Lafayette mouths an ‘O’ and looks at Washington again.

 

Mon ami, vous bien?” He asks, concerned laced in his voice.

 

“I'm fine.” Washington says sternly, thus signalling the end of their conversation.

 

Until Lafayette decides it's not.

 

He looks at Hamilton, not bothering to switch back to English.

 

“Pouvez-vous nous donner une minute?” And Hamilton shakes his head, gathers his folders and leaves without a word.

 

Washington watches him and notices something is wrong but Lafayette is taking his attention away before he can figure out what.

 

“Now that we are alone, what is wrong?” Laf asks seriously and it's one of the rare times George has seen him so concerned. So he lets his shoulders fall, lets his spine bend and exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

 

“It's just...one of those days.” He puts it simply and it's enough for Lafayette to understand because he is shaking his head.

 

“I see.” He says quietly and then he takes a seat across from George.

 

“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off. Get your head a little clear.” Laf looks at him.

 

And Washington shakes his head.

 

“I wouldn't know what to do, where to go.” And he can hear his heartbeating hard.

 

“I don't know, beats me just go do something. Go to the library. I heard they're giving out free bookmarks.” Laf shrugs and despite feeling like the world is cracking around him, Washington chukles.

 

“Thank you I suppose.” And Laf smiles at that.

 

“Vous le ferez pour moi.” He stands fixing his yellow tie.

 

Washington watches him leave. And then Hamilton comes back in.

 

“I'm taking the rest of the day off.” Washington looks down, closing his laptop. “I suppose if you have no work you can go too.” He stands, putting on his coat and Alex clears his throat.

 

“I have nothing to do sir.” He looks down at his shoes and Washington raises an eyebrow.

 

“Then you can go.” He’s turning to get his briefcase when Hamilton speaks again.

 

“Can I take you somewhere?” He asks and Washington would normally feel a little jumpy at Hamilton asking a question, but he is just too tired to give a shocked reaction.

 

He does raise his eyebrow at the young boy again though. To which Hamilton rolls his eyes.

 

“I'm not going to kill you, scout's honor.” He puts three fingers up as the sign and Washington's lips quirk up a little at that.

 

He doesn't say yes.

 

But he follows Hamilton out the building anyway.

 

________________________________________________________

 

Alexander is quiet throughout most of the ride, but Washington doesn't object to it, for he has been in some need of quietness ever since the young boy came into his life.

 

He’s not saying he isn't happy Hamilton is here...but Goddamn he has put him through a lot, and it's only been a month. So if Alexander is willing to shut up, Washington will take it.

 

He leans back into the passenger seat, the sound of the rain calming him, the windshield wipes going on and off, adding into the soothing music.

 

He doesn't know exactly when he fell asleep. He just knows how Alexander's fingers felt wrapped around his arm giving him a light squeeze.

 

“We are here.” He says lightly and his brown eyes are staring right into Washington's and they're turning a reddish brown in the fading sunlight of the sky.

 

He gets out of the car without a word and follows Hamilton. He wasn't expecting to be here but he’ll go with it anyway.

 

They purchase their tickets and go inside.

 

Washington hears a female robotic voice speaking as soon as he walks in.

 

“Welcome to the New York Aquarium, the home of hundreds of aquatic life since 1896. The aquarium will be opened from 10 AM to 4:30 PM today.”

 

Though he’s confused as to why he is here, he doesn't ask any questions. Doesn't have the energy to ask any questions. So instead he follows Alexander to kiosk to grab a map.

 

“Alright.” Comes the young boy, opening up the map into it's full size. “We can start at the Conservation hall and move through the Glover’s Reefs, then get outside to the really exciting stuff.” Alexander gives him a toothy grin and Washington can really see the youth in him like this. “I haven't seen sharks in such a long time. Any request?” Alexander asks and the two start toward the Conservation Hall.

 

“No.” Washington says lowly and Alexander nods in response.

 

“Then we will just have to look at everything until you find your favorite.”

 

And so they begin.

 

______________________________________________________

 

At first it's rough.

 

It's cold and still a little rainy outside and Washington is still having a hard time not feeling horrible.

 

But Alexander remains Alexander . Determined. Persuasive.

 

To Washington's surprise, Alexander knows a great deal about most of the aquatic life at the exhibits. He’s able to tell George a number of things about each fish there, right off the back of his hand. When they do make it outside, they have an hour to spare and the sunlight is starting to break through the grey clouds. And no, Washington doesn't feel very happy. But he doesn't feel miserable either. Hamilton notices how his eyes stopped looking so spaced out and begins to lightly tease the man.

 

“I know you're having fun. I'm amazing aren't I?” Alexander smiles. He holds back so Washington can catch back up with him and when they're walking at the same pace he bumps his shoulder.

 

Just like how they used to walk on Brooklyn street.

 

“It's interesting to see different types of fish.” Washington says instead and Alexander rolls his eyes fondly.

 

“I'll take a compliment when I see one, and that was a compliment.” He does a fake bow and Washington shakes his head, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips.

 

When they do get to the sharks, Alexander completely transforms into a little boy.

“Oh how cool!” He screams running over to the glass.

 

When Washington does catch up, Alexander has a hand pressed to the glass, eyes wide as he takes in the sharks swimming around. Washington does chuckle this time and Alexander looks over at him eyebrow quirked.

 

“It's just.” Washington starts. “You look like a child like this. I've never seen someone so excited before. Especially about fish.” And Alex scoffs.

 

“Something tells me you don't get out a lot anyway. And I know. I just really like fish.”

 

They stand there for maybe 15 minutes. Staring at the different kind of sharks swimming by. Obviously Hamilton knows a lot about them. Then they move towards the Sea Lions.

 

“Do you know, that Great White Sharks can't be held in captivity? There's no way to get them in there because they have to constantly keep moving forward to breathe and they can't do that in a box. Every time we humans get one in an aquarium, they die within a month or so.” Alex says as the two continue to walk.

 

“And how do you know all this?” Washington asks and Alexander shrugs.

 

“My mom taught me this stuff. Before we went completely broke, she used to take me here every weekend. I didn't mind. I actually asked to come. I don't know why I wanted to be here out of anywhere in the city of New York. I still don't know why.” He’s looking over the ocean as he says this, children laughing and the wind playing in the background.

 

Washington remains quiet.

 

“After she died, I still kept coming. I guess I was hoping to hear her voice here. Telling me some new found information about the Cownose Ray or something.” He looks down and Washington tries to think of something to say but he turns up empty again so he just stays quiet.

 

He waits.

 

“But I never hear her voice.” And he sighs. “I still come though. Memories here were never sad, never focusing on our hardships or her passing. It was just us and some smelly fish and Sea Lions. It's the only place where tragedy will never come across and I love it. It's frozen in paradise and when I come here, I'm me again. Not some destroyed shell of Alexander. But a child, with the ghost of his mother on his left side grabbing his hand. Asking me if I want the octopus stuffed animal or the turtle.” He smiles softly. “It's a place of happiness.” He finally finishes and Washington can feel his heart beating hard again.

 

Alexander really was a writer.

 

“Is that why you brung me here?” He finally speaks and Alex shakes his head.

 

“Maybe you and Martha didn't come to the aquarium. Maybe she hated fish.” He laughs. “But maybe you could try. Try to morph it into a place of happy memories. Run away from the world and come here. Find solace in Penguin poop and Sharks with mouths bigger than your entire head.” He looks over and smiles at George.

 

And George smiles back.

 

“Thank you. For letting me into your world.” Washington says quietly and Alex suddenly grabs his hand.

 

“Thank you for helping me return to it.” Alexander tells him and it's so perfect.

 

The salty air and the screaming seagulls, splashes from the penguins and shouts from passing by people and it's perfect.

 

Washington looks at Alexander and he’s perfect.

 

Absolutely perfect.

 

“Come on.” Alexander pulls Washington forward. “We have to see the Sea Lions before they close.”

 

Washington follows without another word.

 

________________________________________________________

 

When Washington pulls up to the apartment, it's raining outside wildly.


The raindrops on the windows don't even look like raindrops but like water was literally dumped on the car, 7 buckets at a time.

 

“Jesus.” Alexander says to himself.

 

“I left my umbrella at the office.” Comes Washington. “We're just going to have to run for it.”

 

Alex looks over at him, panic in his eyes.


“And what if I get pulled out to sea?” He jokes.

 

“Just grab onto my arm and I'll anchor us both to the lobby.” He gives him a light grin and Alex laughs.

 

“Now that's a hero.” He says taking off his seatbelt. “Alright let's do this.”

 

And they're off.

 

And they almost make it to the door until Alex slips on ice and crashes into a large puddle of water, laughing loudly at the whole situation. And Washington isn't laughing.

 

“Are you alright!” He screams over the sound of thunder and crashing rain. His only response is a nod from Alexander and another burst of laughter.

 

They speed walk through the lobby, drenched in water leaving a trail of raindrops behind them and everyone is looking on in disgust as Alexander continues to laugh uncontrollably, while Washington holds him up.

 

“Did you see me? I fell like a rag doll! My feet were literally up in the air! Someone had to be watching us! Oh God I bet I looked ridiculous!” He says in between his fits. Washington shakes his head, trying to suppress his own chuckle.

 

“You fell on ice and concrete, are you sure you're alright?” He’s opening the door to the apartment when he's says this.

 

“I'm young George, got young blood in me.” He jokes. “I'll be fine. Just a little sore in the morning.”

 

They get in, taking off their articles of clothing until they're in their shirts and suit pants.

 

“I'll send the maids for this tomorrow morning.” Washington takes the clothes and goes to his room to put them in his hamper. On his way out he grabs two towels from the hallway closet. When he does come back out, Alexander is still in the kitchen doorway staring at him.

 

“What?” He asks.

 

“I didn't know you had a tattoo.” Alex says, taking his hair out from his ponytail. His eyes remain on the tattoo on his arm.

 

Washington shrugs.

 

“I was young and stupid.” He gives Alexander one of the towels and the two dry up.

 

“Interesting.” Alex says sneakily and Washington (who was currently drying off his head) looks up to reply but then he sees it.

 

And his heart drops.

 

Alexander is still smiling at him which means he doesn't feel it.

 

His left eye, is completely black and purple. And his right jaw has another horrible purple bruise on it.

And then the realization comes to George.

 

The foundation. It wasn't for blemishes or his bags.

 

They were for his bruises.

 

Someone was hitting him.

 

They're fresh.

 

Someone is hitting him.

 

And Washington thinks of the bruises he saw the night he took Alexander home for the first time and his heart drops.

 

Is Alexander still working?

 

Going out nearly every night. Washington always assumed it was to help the John boy, but then he understands it all.

 

“Your...Your face.” Washington says quietly.

 

Alexanders slick smile drops and his eyes go wide and then he is covering his face with his hands.

 

“It's nothing.” He says quickly but Washington is shaking his head. Anger filling his bones.

 

“You told me you weren't doing that anymore-”

 

“I'm not!” Alexander interrupts hastily. “I'm not I swear it's hard to explain, but I'm not sleeping with any men.” But Washington is shaking his head brows knit together in frustration.

 

“You lied to me.” And Alexander is shaking his head no excessively, his wet hair getting caught on his face. His poor face.

 

“I'm not lying George please. I'm not lying George I can't tell you but-”

“But I'm supposed to take your word on it? Just like the concealer situation?” He spits and he's never heard himself speak like this.

 

Alexander runs to him, holding his arm. “Please George you have to believe me! I'm not sleeping with anyone! I'm not!” But it's too late.

 

Washington pushes Alexander off of him and stumbles away in disbelief.

 

“Who are you!?” He asks. Though there's no anger in his voice. Only sadness.

 

Alexander pauses.

 

He remains quiet.

 

“I think I'm understanding you, learning more about you and then you turn around and do something and I'm back at square one.”

 

Alexander remains frozen.

 

“Just tell me.” Washington begs.

 

“Tell me what is wrong. Let me help you! Don't lock me out.” He stares at Alexander, eyes wide.

 

“Alexander.”

 

No response.

 

“Alexander just tell me.”

 

No response.

 

“It doesn't have to end like this.”

 

But Alexander remains quiet.

 

So Washington closes his mouth. And he walks back to his room.

 

“George.” Alex rushes to him.

 

“George, please. I...I want to tell you but I can't. It's too much. I can't put you through that. I can't burn you too.”

 

“What does this mean!” He turns around.

 

“Who else are you burning? Who is setting you on fire?!”

 

But Alexander steps away shaking his head.

 

“Just believe me George. Please. I'm not sleeping with anyone.” He looks down.

 

“I'm handling it, but what I need is for you to just, stay out of it. You'll only make things worse, for all of us. I'm not sleeping with anyone George. I'm not.” He continues and George shakes his head silently. Lips in a thin line.

 

“Fine.” He says tightly. And Alexander runs his hand through his wet hair, sighing.

 

“It was so nice today. I'm sorry I ruined it.” Alexander says quietly.

 

“You didn't ruin anything.” Washington replies and Alexander rolls his eyes.

 

“Of course I didn't.” He says sarcastically looking up at Washington. After a few beats of silence he steps closer to the older man, putting his hand on his face, thumb running over his cheekbone.

 

“I'm sorry George. But things will get better soon. I promise.” And Washington just nods.

 

Alexander takes a step back slowly. And walks to his room without another word.

 

And yes, Alexander was right. Things would be getting better soon.

 

Because George Washington will now be getting involved.


And that's final.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Notes:

A new character is name dropped!! Yayy.

Anyways Im thinking of making a one shot. It will not have anything to do with this fic but I think it would be fun. If you guys want that let me know.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Text

“Wheres Alexander?” Peggy asks and Washington stiffens to her voice.

 

“He had business to attend to.” Washington recovers quickly and he tries to miss Angelica’s eyebrow raising in the window reflection.

 

He turns off the sink, bringing with him a stemless wine glass.

 

“Here you go.” He hands Angelica the glass and avoids her eyes.

 

She narrows them in response.

 

“What kind of business?” Angelica fills her cup up with water and the other girls don't notice it but Washington does.

 

It's the same thing Alexander does.

 

Interrogates him passively.

 

Using words as weapons.

 

Shit.

 

“I don't really know. It's his business not mine so I can't provide you with an answer.”

 

“How unfortunate.” Angelica rolls her eyes.

 

“Why? Do you miss the boy?” Eliza asks from her spot in the living room. She’s wearing a pale blue spring dress, even though it's nearly 20 degrees outside. She doesn't bother to look up from the magazine she's reading when she asks Angelica this.

 

“No, but I know you do. I was hoping he could make it back in time to see that ridiculous dress you squeezed into for him.” She shoots back and Washington can see the redness in Eliza's face all the way from the kitchen.

 

Peggy snickers and Washington bumps her arm to get her to stop but she only giggles harder at it.

 

“Leave your sister alone. I think you look very nice Eliza.” Washington tries to say but he can hear a chuckle in his own voice and that makes Eliza go redder.

 

“You're all very horrible people!” She stands and runs to the bathroom but Washington can see the smile on her face as she is running by.

 

“Why do you do that to your sister?” Washington turns to Angelica who is also looking at a magazine and the girl shrugs.

 

“She does it to herself. Besides. It's the truth. Shes gonna catch a horrible cold trying to impress a boy that has no idea she exists.”

 

Washington shakes his head.

 

“Alexander sees Eliza. He sees her a lot actually.” He swallows when he says this. He can't explain why his throat is suddenly tight and his stomach dropping.

 

Angelica rolls her eyes.

 

“I'm sure he does. Which is why he couldn't make it today right?” There's no bite behind it but Washington can still see the hidden annoyance in Angelica eyes.

 

“I take it you're not a big fan of him still?” Washington quirks an eyebrow at her and she smiles.

 

“I just don't like things I don't understand.” She replies and Washington hums at that.

 

“But I thought you knew him well.” He remarks, his eyes meeting hers with the memory of the night they all came here for dinner.

 

“I know that I will never truly know him.” She says and Washington goes silent at that.

 

He looks at her and she stares back confidently.

 

“Took the words right out of your mouth didn't I?” She looks smug about it and he tries to close his mouth.

 

“I think you're over thinking everything.” Washington says instead, he turns around, wiping up the counter to hide his new found nervousness. “You've only met him twice.” He throws the rag in the sink and turns back around, leaning against the counter. “He’s just a boy.”

 

Angelica scoffs, handing the magazine back over to Peggy who accepts it silently. She's got her headphones in and has been completely oblivious to their conversation and Washington thinks it's for the best.

 

“That is the only thing I really know about him. He isn't just a boy. If he was, he wouldn't be by your side.”

 

Washington goes to reply but Eliza comes in and he shuts his mouth up.

 

“I would just like to declare that I wish Peggy and I were the only Schuyler daughters.” She scowls at Angelica and the eldest rolls her eyes.

 

“Yea. Alright princess.” She mocks to Eliza and Eliza sticks her tongue out at her.

 

“I'm not a princess. Not anymore at least. That title now goes to Peggy.” They all turn to stare at the youngest but she remain oblivious, her eyes fixed on the magazine and her tongue poking out from her lips.

 

“Peggy?” Eliza says.

 

She doesn't move.

 

Margarita.” George calls.

 

She still doesn't move.

 

So Angelica picks up an orange from the bowl at the center of the table and throws it at her, hitting her right in the left eye.

 

“OWW! OH COME ON!” She creams yanking out her headphones. She throws the orange back over to Angelic, but the girl catches it effortless.

 

“Oblivion my dear is not the way to live your life, you will thank me later.” Angelica says in response, beginning to peel the orange.

 

“Are you sure this is the dress you want?” Eliza asks, eyebrow raised and a curl to her lip. “It isn't very traditional.”

 

“Good. She will stick out. Be more noticed.” Comes Angelica.

 

“She is already going to stick out. She's gorgeous.” Washington says as he makes his way to Peggy, staring at the dress in the picture. “But I'm with Eliza, this is very...out there.” He says quietly.

 

“And that's why I want it.” Peggy says turning off the music on her phone. “If I have to do this stupid cotillion, I'm going to do it the way I want. It's gotta be big!” She shakes her head yes and Washington smiles as a response.

 

“Alright fine.” Comes Eliza defeatedly. “I'll order it when we get back to the hotel.” She stares at the picture some more and Washington has to suppress a chuckle at her uneasy expression.

 

“Then it's settled.” Angelica says, she has finished her orange and Washington raises an eyebrow at that.

 

“What's settled?” Eliza asks, a cool expression on her face. “The fact that we found Peggy's debutante gown, or that you eat without chewing?”

 

That gets Washington, and he is throwing his head back in laughter, the last thing he sees is Angelica jumping up from her chair and Eliza screaming in horror making a break for the bathroom again.

 

______________________________________________________

 

He tells them he will see them tomorrow for breakfast.

 

He walks them to their car. Gives all three girls a kiss on the temple, and a handshake to Angelica.

 

He tells them he loves them and to stay out of trouble.

 

Then he leaves for Brooklyn street.

 

He doesn't exactly know what he's going to do when he gets there. He doesn't even know what he's going to say.

 

And normally that's very unlike Washington's character, to be so unprepared but he needs to see everything before he can establish an actual plan.

 

Know your audience.

Know your predicament.

 

He tells himself, and this should be no different. It's isn't different. It's just instead of a war. It's Alexander.

 

So he drives to that street in silence. Trying to stop the sound of breaking bones in his head.

 

He isn't scared.

 

He's just nervous.

 

When he does get to the house, it's starting to darken outside. People are already crowding around it, music seeping from the broken walls, and red lights pouring out of the tiny windows.

 

He swallows.

 

Then gets out.

 

No one scoops him up outside this time, which he is thankful for so he goes inside, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

 

When he does get inside he looks around.

 

It pretty much looks the same from when he was in there before. Except there's less people, and there's a different song playing.

 

“How can I help you baby?” A woman purrs beside him.

 

He turns to stare at her.

 

She's got a skin tight black dress on, and black lipstick on. She's actually very pretty, but Washington can see the finger-shaped bruises on her arms and shakes his head.

 

“I'm looking for a boy.” He says tightly. And he kind of feels bad for the way her shoulders fall at the request.

 

“I see. Someone specific?” She asks less excitedly, and Washington reaches in his pocket and fishes out a 50 from his wallet.

 

“Yes actually.” He says sternly. He gives her the 50 and she looks at him questioningly and he shrugs.

 

“It's a gift.” He says seriously and she smiles.

 

“I like you.” She smiles, sticking the money in her bra and Washington looks away for privacy and then he remembers he's in a whorehouse and there's no such thing as privacy.

“What's his name?” She finally asks.

 

And When he tells her the name, she nods and goes to retrieve him.

 

___________________________________________________________

 

The bed is way too soft for Washington's liking, and then he remembers the things happening on the bed and he decides to stand.

 

He's walking around the room, studying the cracked paint and dried blood on the walls when the door opens.

 

At first it's silence.

 

It's thick and tense.

 

At first it's fear, and confusion.

 

It cold and for a moment Washington thinks he made a mistake doing this.

 

Then he thinks of what he saw.

 

The bruises.

 

And he speaks.

 

“I know I was told to stay out of it.” He swallows. “But I'm not going to. So you might as well tell me, for everyone's sake. So this can be over.”

 

And John takes as seat.

 

His hair is out, curly and bushy, framing his tired face and his tan skinny body. He breathes in and releases and his shakes his frame. So much that Washington feels uncomfortable just watching.

 

John doesn't say anything so Washington continues.

 

“He is still working here isn't he?” He asks but John doesn't answer. He continues to stare at the carpet.

 

“Help me, help him.” Washington finally begs and the boy remains silent.

 

He waits, a few dying moments for anything but the boy gives him nothing. So he reaches into his pocket, takes out a hundred dollar bill and drops it at the boys side.

 

“Thank you for your help.” He says tightly, trying not to let his anger show.

 

Hes reaching for the doorknob when John finally speaks.

 

“You remembered my name?” He asks lightly and Washington turns to face him.

 

“Yes.” Washington says and it goes silent again.

 

But Washington doesn't move.

 

“You shouldn't be here.” John swallows.

 

“Is Alexander here?” Washington walks over to the boy.

 

“No. I don't know where he is.” John looks down at Washington shoes, mouth hanging open partially.

 

Washington tires to relax at this. Alexander told him he was going to the library. At least it was true. Hopefully.

 

“He said he went to the library.” Comes Washington and John shakes his head.

 

“Seems like him yea.” He smiles and it's innocent. Much to Washington's surprise.

 

Things go silent between them again and Washington is ready to speak but John beats him to it.

 

“He told me not to tell you anything.” He says silently and Washington raises a brow at that.

 

“Yes.” John clarifies for him. “He knew you were going to do something like this.” He pauses for a moment, looking up at Washington. “Don't be so offended. He reads everyone correctly.” He finally finishes and Washington's pulls out a dry chuckle.

 

“I know he does.” Is all he says.

 

“I'm supposed to tell you to leave.” Says John. “And then tell Alexander that you were here.” He looks back down again.

 

“But.” Washington says.

 

“But. He really is in danger.” Comes John and Washington's stomach drops at that.

 

“What is going on?” He asks, trying to mask the urgency in his voice. Adn John is shaking his head.

 

“It's too much to explain. Especially here, it's not safe.”

 

“So let me take you somewhere else. And we can figure things out.” Washington says without thinking and John looks over at him eyes wide.

 

“Really?” He says and his voice is so broken and small that it catches Washington off guard.

 

“I...uh...yea.” He says awkwardly and John turns his head away from him again.

 

“Just like what you did with Alexander?” He asks and Washington is really confused now.

 

“If that's what you want.” Washington replies.

 

“I can't.” He says this more to himself by the looks of it. “I have a client in a half hour.”

 

“Just tell me something.” Washington says. “Who is the danger? And how did Alex get here? He told me he went to Colombia, how did he get here?” And John is shaking his head.

 

“I can't tell you all of this. It's not my business to tell.”

 

Washington deflates at that.

 

“Well what can you tell me?” He asks defeatedly.

 

“Jefferson.” Is what John replies with.

 

“Huh?” Washington asks and John sighs.

 

“Jefferson. He is the owner of the wonderful place.” John signals to the broken and thin walls. “And no, Alexander isn't sleeping with any men. Not that I know of, but he still has to pay Jefferson his money.”

 

“But if he isn't living or working here, why?” John shruggs.

 

“That's just how it is.” He pauses. “That night you took Alexander from here, someone blabbed. Told Jefferson about the entire thing. Alexander got in trouble for being taken, and I got into trouble for letting him be taken.”


And Washington flinches. “Sorry.” He says and John rolls his eyes at that.

 

“What do you mean by getting in trouble?” Washington asks and John shivers.

 

“I mean like punish.” The young boy says and flashes backs of the bruises on Alexander's face come filing in.

 

“Jesus.” Washington says to him and John shakes his head.

 

“Yea. So thanks.” He spits and Washington recoils.

 

“I was just trying to help him. I didn't know….I..I wasn't thinking right.” John relaxes again at that.

 

“It's fine. He would have hurt us if he really wanted to either way.” And the way he says this is so broken, Washington's jaw slacks.

 

“Why don't you just leave?” Washington asks, and John chokes out a dry chuckle.

 

“And where would I go? Sorry to say I don't have my own George Washington who will carry me off into the sunset to a better place.” There's no venom behind it but it still hurts George nonetheless.

 

Things go silent for a moment after that.

 

“Where is Jefferson now?” Washington rubs at his face, and John shruggs.

 

“Beats me. He's only here on weekends.” John answers and Washington looks around.

 

“I need to find him.” Washington starts and then gets cut off by John.

 

“And say what? ‘Hey look I know I stole one of your best assets from your illegal prostitution house but I was wondering if you could ya know release him because he is totally clean now like thanks dude that would be great.’” He finishes in a dumb voice and Washington closes his mouth.

 

“Yea ok you're right I'm going to need to go about this a different way.”

“How about you just leave it.” John starts. “Look I know you want to be Alexander's knight and shining armour, but this is no joke and quite frankly you're gonna lose. Alexander has this coming anyway.” John finishes and Washington raises a brow.

 

“What do you mean had this coming?” He asks and John shakes his head.

 

“Not my business to tell.” He repeats again and Washington lets it go.

 

“It doesn't matter what he did in the past, no deserves to go through this, absolutely no one, I'm going to help him. Get this Jefferson guy fixed out and let anyone who wants to leave, leave. Are you going to help me?”

 

He can tell that the question shocks John but the boy is shaking his head.

 

“Ok right. On one condition.” He says and Washington looks at him waiting.

 

“You keep my name out of it. I'm not Alexander. I can't survive the way he does.”

 

“How old are you kid?” Washington asks.

 

“19.” John says quietly and it breaks Washington's heart.

 

“You're going to be safe and sound. I promise.” Comes Washington and John shakes his head.

 

“Then it's a deal.” John says.

 

“Good.” He makes his way back over to the door but he hears John speak again.

 

“And Washington.” John calls out. Washington turns back around and then John looks back down.

 

“Alexander, he...he has a lot of skeletons in his closest. I don't want you to think you're helping an innocent victim. None of us are innocent Washington. We all set things on fire.”

 

I burn everything I touch.

 

Washington's lips go into a thin line.

 

“It doesn't matter John. People should not own other people.”

 

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Notes:

Another new character guys. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Text

“I think it's perfect for us.” She says as she runs her fingers against the newly painted white wall.

 

“It's a little small.” He says instead, tilting his head to examine the small hallway they are currently standing in.

 

“We need small.” She replied staring ahead at one of the rooms. “Seems like everything has been to big for us. The little simple couple from Virginia. If we are staying in New York forever, then let's get something small. Intimate.” She turns around to smile at him, showing her teeth.

 

He smiles back.

 

“We don't have to stay here forever.” He walks over to stand next to her. Wrapping his arm around her neck and pulling her close. “Nothing is forever.” He says simply and he can feel her giggle.

 

“Nothing is forever.” She repeats. “And nothing is promised. But we try to do it anyway.”

 

“Promise?” He asks.

 

“No.” She says looking up at him. “We try forever.”

 

He leans down to kiss her but

 

Alexander wakes him up.

 

At first it sounds like a restless groan. Indicating the young boy is having an uncomfortable sleep. But then when George is trying to fall back asleep he hears them again. And they're getting louder as time progresses.

 

It's around 4 in the morning when Alexander is full on screaming. So loud that George jumps out of the bed to get him.

 

And this isn't something new. Alexander cries and makes noises just about every night. Washington tries to ignore them for the most part, knowing Alexander the boy would only be agitated on being confronted about it. But tonight it's different.

 

They aren't light cries and distorted groans, it's screaming. Alexander sounds like he’s screaming for his life. And George really can't ignore that.

 

“Alexander?” He asks urgently, fear and worry climbing into his fingertips as he wraps them around the doorknob. He doesn't get a reply. Only another out of breath scream.

 

When he does open the door, he finds the boy tangled in his sheets, the light of the moon gracing over his dark hair. His skin wet with sweat.

 

“STOP! I'M SORRY!” He screams out and it makes Washington anxious. He walks closer to Alexander as the boy continues to scream.

 

“PLEASE DON'T! I'M SORRY! DON'T!” He twists his head from side to side, tiny body thrashing against the heated air around him.

 

At first Washington doesn't know what to do. It's obvious Alex is still asleep. Does he wake him up or leave?

 

And then Washington remembers his own nightmares. The ones in which he stills suffers from today, a few minutes ago actually.

 

And he knows he would want someone to wake him up from them. No matter how sweet they seem.

 

So he walks cautiously over to Alexander in the midst of the young boys wild nightmare.

 

“Alexander.” He whispers lightly. When the boy still screams he puts a light hand on his shoulder and gently shakes.

 

“It's ok. No one's going to hurt you.” He says a little louder hoping to bring the boy to his senses.

 

“STOP! I DIDN'T MEAN TO!” He screams out throwing his arms up in defense.

 

They almost hit Washington but the man steps back quickly before the blow comes.

 

He swallows and tries a different approach.

 

He shakes Alexander, harder this time and begins speaking.

 

“It’s ok. No one's going to hurt you anymore. I'm going to protect you, I'm right here it's ok. It's just a nightmare.” He repeats over and over again until the boys screams and movements stop.

 

Alexander turns to his side, hiding his face underneath his arms as he settles into a fetal position that makes George heart hurt.

 

Silence fills the room. It stays silent like that for a few minutes until the heat comes on and Alex sighs.

 

“Don't leave me.” The young boy says quietly just as Washington is reaching for the doorknob again.

 

The older man stops mid action and turns to stare at Alex but he can't see much in the dark.

 

Alexander repeats himself.

 

“Please. Don't leave me. Not tonight. Just stay. Stay please.” And he's never heard Alexander beg like this before. It's so broken, and tired, full of fear and sadness.

 

Washington doesn't say anything. He just swallows and moves silently to the bed.

 

He gets in on the left side, not touching Alexander but only a finger away from him.

 

At first it's awkward, and tense and Washington begins to wonder if Alex has already regretted his decision to invite him.

 

Hes ready to make an awkward exit when Alexander turns around lays against his chest.

 

It's a swift movement, quiet and light and for a second Washington didn't think the boy moved until he feels a hand over his heart. He can also feel Alexander's hair against his arm, and feel the rise and fall of his chest against his side.

 

He can feel how fast the young boys heart is beating. Quick and erratic, doing wild thuds against Washington's skin. He almost wants to laugh at the fact that Alexander's heart beats are matching his own.

 

But Alex beats him to it.

 

“Your heart...” He starts. “It's beating so fast...are you alright?” He asks quietly and Washington nods, not trusting his voice just yet.

 

“Yes I'm fine.” He says horsley. “Yours is beating quite fast too.”

 

Alexander shifts beside him. Moving his body more on top of Washington's until it seems he is completely on the man. He buries his head in the crook of George's neck for a second and breathes. Then he moves back to his original position.

 

They sit there like that. Until their tension melts away and it's only them and their dark thoughts and broken bodies.

 

A minute goes by.

 

Then another.

 

Then another.

 

And then another.

 

And then Washington feels tears on his shirt.

 

And he hears Alexander crying.

 

___________________________________________________________

 

They don't bring it up that morning.

 

Alexander cooks breakfast for the two. They eat and then they go to work.

 

Barely anything is said in general but it's what happened last night that makes the star of the ‘avoiding conversations show’ .

 

The two get to work and barely say anything there as well.

 

Alexander stays at his desk for most of the day. Bags under his eyes deep and bruised, hair tied back into it's perfect ponytail but all Washington can see is that black hair sprawled out on his arm, covered in the silver moonlight.

 

He stares at Alexander throughout the entire day. Noticing things he’s never noticed before. Things that he now knows of because of last night.

 

How skinny Alexander really is. To have the boy practically laying on Washington and Washington didn't feel anything really.

 

How broad his nose was. He felt the shape of it against his neck.

 

How jumpy Alexander was. Always moving. He realized this when Alexander fell asleep and still continued to move in his sleep.

 

It's like he opened a new world, a planet in Alexander's universe. Named only ‘body’ because that's what it was all about.

 

It amazed him and scared him greatly at the same time.

 

“It seems we have a visitor.” Comes Lafayette tightly as he walks in through the door.

 

Washington, stuck in his daydreams looks up to see who.

 

None other than James Madison.

 

He's still wearing his coat, which means that he won't be staying long.

 

“James.” Washington stands, walking over to give the man a firm handshake and a pat on the back. “So nice to see you, again.” And James nods as a response.

 

“I'm sure it is, don't think your partner will agree though.” He smiles over to Lafayette who does no job trying to hide his extravagant and overly dramatic eyeroll.

 

“Still have that grudge on me Gilbert?” He asks in a mocking tone and Lafayette clears his throat.

 

“Are you still an asshole.” He says in return, and Madison laughs.

 

“That can be debated.” The man answers.

 

“Then so can my grudge.” Laf answers and makes his way to the door.

 

“You do realize me crashing your car was like 13 years ago right?” Madison asks before the Frenchman leaves and Lafayette turns around to him looking him in the eyes.

 

‘Yes, and I still hate you for it.” He says and then leaves.

 

Washington chuckles lightly at that. And Madison looks at him eyebrows raised.

 

“If I knew I would tell you.” Washington says before Madison even gets a word out.

 

Madison shakes his head. “Such a dramatic man he is.”

 

“So what can I do for you today?” Washington asks as he makes his way back around his desk, taking a look at Alexander before setting his attention back on Madison.

 

“It isn't very business formal, atleast I don't think so.” Madison says instead and Washington raises an eyebrow at that.

 

“What do you need?”  He asks again and Madison shakes his head.

 

“It's Dolley.” He says first. “The annual debutante ball is coming around. She got her invitation yesterday morning but you know Dolley, to be invited just isn't enough. She has to in some way be apart of it. Have her name in it.” And Washington knows what's coming next.

 

“And John..” He starts off.

 

“Is 16 and of high name I suppose. Yes he is my son but I barely know the boy.” Madison finishes rolling his eyes.

 

“Why not ask Phillip?” Washington asks instead, not hiding the questioning look in his eye and Madison chuckles.

 

“Because it's Phillip.”  Madison answers. “The man has been a mess since…” he doesn't finish the sentence.

 

Washington licks his lips.

 

“And I know the girls are staying up here with you watching over them. You seem to be the only father figure they have right now. That and Phillip is a douche.” Madison says flatly.

 

Washington smiles a light smile at that. “He can be at times.”

 

“So what do you say? John Madison escorting the wonderful Margarita Schuyler to the Debutante ball.” Madison tries to make it sound exciting but Washington can clearly see the tiredness and annoyance in his face about the whole situation and it makes him laugh.

 

“I think it's a good idea, they're both...unique.” Washington says carefully and he hears Madison snort.

 

“Theyre both weirdos you mean.” He smiles and Washington shrugs.

 

“I was no better at that age either. But yea I don't see why not, I'll asks Peggy. She'll probably say yes anyway.” And Madison shakes his head.

 

“Good, glad we got that settled, now my wife can get off my back about it.” And Washington sits down in his chair.

 

“By the way.” Madison stops at the door. “Did you get a new secretary?” He asks eyebrow raised.

 

“I did.” Answers Washington. “His name is Alexander Hamilton.”

 

“And how long do you think he is gonna last before he practically dies?” A smirk on his lips and Washington looks over at the young boy.

 

Hes currently writing something down, the phone in between his ear and shoulder and Washington swallows.

 

“I think a long time.” He answers. “He's good at surviving.”

 

__________________________________________________________

 

When they get home, Alexander finally speaks.

 

But it isn't about last night.

 

“Any requests for dinner?” He asks and Washington shakes his head no.

 

“The girls are coming over though.” Washington says shortly after.

 

Alexander shakes his head as conformation.

 

A few beats of silence goes by and Washington decides to just go for it.

 

“Alexander...about last night.” But the young boy puts his hand up and Washington closes his mouth.

 

“I shouldn't have made you stay, I'm sorry. I obviously wasn't thinking right.” Alexander tells him avoiding eye contact the entire time.

 

Washington furrows his brow, a sudden pain in his stomach at what Alexander said. “I...wasn't talking about that. I meant your nightmares. Do you experience them like that often?” He tries to change the subject. Tries to stop this newfound sinking feeling in his chest and stomach but it's only growing.

 

Alexander swallows. “They come and go. Yesterday was just a bad night. It won't happen again.” And the way the boy says it makes it seem like it won't happen again. Like it's final, that only makes Washington feel even more sick.

 

“Right, yea ok.” The older man replies and Alexander nods.

 

They sit there like that, in a state of silence until Washington speaks again.

 

“I don't mind helping you, when you have nights like those.” He says to Alex and he hopes that it doesn't sound creepy. That it won't sound like he's fishing for some excuse to spend time with the boy. He can't explain why he wants to but he just does.

 

“I'm fine. I would have rather been woken up George.” Alex says quietly and Washington nods.

 

“That's what I meant.” He recovers and Alex mutters an ‘oh’.

 

The young boy begins cooking, silent and in thought from Washington's perspective.

 

He choses to ignore it, and instead hides out in the living room reading while Alexander cooks.

 

“Thank you.” Alexander finally says when Washington walks back into the kitchen. The older man hears this and raises an eyebrow.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“I said thank you. For helping me. No one's ever helped me with them before. Only John and that was once.”

 

Washington shakes his head. “Yea, no problem.”

 

Alexander ends up making lasagna and vegetable and when he tells Washington, Washington wrinkles his nose.

 

“You don't like lasagna?” Alex asks with a light smile lingering on his lips.

 

“No, I'm not a fan. But I'll eat it nevertheless.” He answers.

 

“But you like spaghetti.” Alex laughs a little and Washington shrugs.

 

“I know, it doesn't make sense.” He shakes his head and Alex does too.

 

“You're such a complicated man, Mr. Washington.” He teases and George rolls his eyes.

 

“I've been told, but I personally feel like I'm a rather simple person. I don't want much in life.”

 

“Well what do you want?” Alex asks. He's putting food on the expensive china, with his back to Washington.

 

“Happiness.” Washington says, and Alexander hums in response.

 

“I suppose we all do. But you got that and more. Happiness, wealth, good looks, a healthy mind and body, a family....”

 

Washington clears his throat which snaps Alexander out of it. “Sorry.” He quickly says and Washington shrugs.

 

“It happens. But yea, I suppose I'm lucky in some of those fields yes.”

 

“Lucky.” Alex scoffs.

 

“I'm obviously not that lucky actually when I come to think of it.” Washington quickly says and Alexander asks him why not.

 

“I'm eating lasagna. And I hate that stuff.”

 

In return he gets a laughing Alexander.

 

“So no lasagna next time. Ok I can work with that.” The young boy says once he calms down.

 

“I still like the spaghetti you make. It's very good. I'm not a big fan of tomato sauce in general but yours is great.” He says and Alexander does a fake bow.

 

“Thank you, I'm going to start making a list of what you do and don't like.” And Washington shakes his head.

 

“There's no need for that.” And Alexander makes a disapproving noise.

 

“Nonsense! After everything you do for me. The least I can do is make food you actually like. Besides, I already know most of what you like and what you don't.”

“No you don't.” Washington chuckles.

 

“Ive memorised you. It seems to be the only thing I can do these days.” Comes Alexander and the realization of what he said slips between them in the air.

 

It goes silent and suddenly Washington's heart beat is picking up again.

 

“Oh.” The older man says quietly and Alexander chokes out a dry and sarcastic chuckle.

 

“That...was...creepy.” He shakes his.

 

“That was sweet.” Comes Washington and that only adds to the newfound tension in the air.

 

“Sweet.” Alexander whispers and Washington tries not to let it get in his bones and make him weird.

 

He tries to let what they just said to each other go because it's Alexander and the boy isn't interested in him like that, he made that clear the first day.

 

“Sorry. I didn't mean to say that. Nice is what I meant.” Washington says formally, and then he excuses himself and goes to his room to stare at a wall.

 

He tries not to let any of it bother him.

 

He tries not to let his thoughts be seen on his face when the Schuyler sisters arrive.

 

He tries not to let the sadness he suddenly feels when Alexander asks Eliza on a date show on his face.

 

And Washington tries not to let an unexplainable emotion be noticed on his body as Alexander screams from another nightmare, and especially not when he begs the older man back into his bed again.

 

Washington tries to keep everything under wraps as he holds the boy the second night in a row.


But yet he isn't strong enough, and he can't help but to hold Alexander a little tighter than necessary when the boy finally falls asleep.

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Summary:

Thanksgiving has arrived

Notes:

This is another one of my favorite chapters because I put so much into it. Its a little long so dont get bored now. Anyways unfortunately I will not be updating at all next week. Im going to be too busy with school and work and Im not putting myself through that Im sorry. So I tried to make this chapter as good as I can to hold you guys off for a week or so. Enjoy!xx

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He didn't even know Thanksgiving was in 3 days until Eliza asked him what he was doing for it.

 

“Oh.” He said quietly, a shocked expression taking over his face. “I hadn't noticed. I haven't thought about it.”

 

Eliza laughs at him, squeezing his shoulders as she walks past him to sit at the island.

 

“I don't blame you, you're a busy man.” She stirs her tea and hums an unfamiliar tune.

 

George stares at her quietly. A questioning look on his face.

 

“Well I think.” She says finally, taking a poised sip of her tea. “We should celebrate it on our own, just the 5 of us.”

 

“Five?” George raises an eyebrow.

 

“You, me, the girls, and Alexander. Unless he has somewhere else to go. I never know, he barely talks about his family, I assume he doesn't have any here.” Eliza says sweetly, placing the tea cup down and rubbing at her hands.

 

She always does this when she is nervous.

 

“No.” Washington says, voice a little horse. “He doesn't have family here.”

 

Eliza looks up.

 

“Has he told you anything about them?” She asks, a sudden eagerness over taking her.

 

Washington realizes that Alexander hasn't told Eliza anything.

 

“Has he not told you about his family.” He asks for clarification and the girl shakes her head.

 

“He only told me he was from the Caribbeans. And that his brother is in jail. That is all I really know about him.”

 

Washington's mouth flings open for a second but he closes it back up quick.

 

He remains silent at the new information.

 

Alexander told him he had a brother. 

 

Just not that he was in jail.

 

He thinks it over. Alexander didn't tell Eliza anything. The two have been dating for about a week and sure maybe it's short but he thought Alexander would have shared something with Eliza by now.

 

Figures the brother information was all he could get out to her right now.

 

 

“I didn't know his brother was in jail.” Washington says instead, deciding to hold back on the information Alexander told him.

 

“I didn't know he was so secretive.” She exhales a dry chuckle, running her fingers through her hair and looking down.

 

“He just has a hard time opening up to people, he will come around eventually.” Washington tries to hide the newfound tightness in his throat when he says this. He doesn't know why it's there.

 

“How long did he take with you?” Eliza asks.

 

Washington shakes his head.

 

“It's just, I want to help him. Be apart of him. I want to know everything about him. But it's so hard.” She says.

 

“It's only been a week.” Washington replies.

 

“A week. And we’ve went out everyday. He knows pretty much everything about me. Why can't I know everything about him?” She asks and Washington shrugs.

 

“Some people aren't meant to be figured out so easily Elizabeth. Some people are afraid of being exposed.”

 

Of burning everything.

 

Eliza’s sigh snaps him out of it.

 

“I understand. I'll wait. He’s worth it.”

 

Washington swallows.

 

“I'm sure he is.”

 

____________________________________________________________

 

He meets John at the coffee shop.

 

He stares at his mug but doesn't attempt to pick it up for a drink.

 

“Do you always stare at your beverages? Or did I catch you at the wrong time?” Comes his voice and Washington fixes himself and puts his armour back on.

 

“My apologies. I was thinking.” He says seriously and John laughs.

 

“Apologies forgiven, my good man.” He replies with a fake British accent and Washington puts on a light smile at that.

 

John sits and Washington notices that the bruises he sported on his face earlier are now pretty much gone.

 

He brings it up.

 

“Your face looks better.” He nods to him and John shrugs.

 

“It's skin. Skin always heals.” He says simply and Washington makes an agreeing sound.

 

“Do you want anything? Are you hungry?”

John stares at him.

 

“Sorry.” Washington sits back. “It's just, when I did this with Alexander, he was always hungry.” John looks away.

 

“He used to give me his food.” He replies tightly. “Guess he thought I couldn't eat without his help.”

 

“Can you? I'm assuming you can if you're not hungry now.” John laughs at that.

 

“Yes George. I'm eating just fine.” He gives him a toothy grin and Washington nods.

 

“Good.”

 

For some time the two just talk about things that are completely random.

 

John asks a lot of questions to George. Like wheres he from, why did he come to New York.

 

“Why are you so kind?” John asks with an eyebrow raised and Washington shrugs.

 

“Just how I was raised I suppose.” And John scoffs.

 

“Yea, don't give any credit to your actual character. So George Washington that is.” And He crosses his arms.

 

“Sorry to disappoint you with my answer.” Washington says and there's no bite behind it.

 

“So, what did you want to know?” John asks and Washington looks back down at his cup.

 

“You said something about a Jefferson before. The man the did that to Alexander's face-your face. He's only here on the weekends and he basically owns people. I need more though.” Washington recaps and throughout the entire thing John keeps perfect eye contact.

 

“Yes well, there's not much I know about the man. I haven't even really gotten a good look at him if I'm being quite honest. Whenever he is around it's mostly dark in the room. All I know is that he is a Virginia man, just like yourself. He’s one of those rich fellows ya know? The ones with the shiny shoes and nice Range Rovers and big rings. He never collects the money, he sends his right hand man to do that. Sally Hemings, one of the workers. She's a big request every night. Anyways he's kind of like a mob boss from what I gathered about him.” John leans closer into Washington, voice barely above a whisper.

 

“Are you sure you wanted to come here to talk about this? Aren't you worried someone will see us together and get ideas?” Washington suddenly asks voice filled with worry and John shakes his head.

 

“We’re in the back, besides no one comes into this place. It was only Alexander.”

 

Washington nods.

 

“So if I want Alexander out what do I do?” John shrugs.

 

“I don't really know. No matter where he goes Jefferson will probably find him. Guy does not play when it comes to his property, he likes his money.”

 

“How did Alexander meet him?” Washington asks and John takes a sip of the water he ordered.

 

“I'm not really sure. I know it had something to with his school issue.”

 

Colombia .

 

“School issue? What school issue?” Washington asks brows furrowed and John shakes his erratically.

 

“Can't tell you, I have already said too much about it.” Washington deflates at that.

 

“I'll take what I can get.” He finally says and John gives him a slick smirk.

 

“What if I call the police. Get him arrested.” And John makes a disapproving noise.

 

“No good. No good, you'll get everybody in that house arrested. Including me and Alexander. No good.” And Washington shakes his head.

 

“What if I make Alexander go away for a while. Have him disappear for sometime and let Jefferson forget.”

 

“Alexander was one of his best performers. He's not going to forget Alexander that easy.” John says and Washington tries not to feel so sick at that.

 

“Well if he let him stop working why won't he let him leave.” He says a little frustrated and John drums his fingers together.

 

“Alexander is still paying him, almost double of what he was giving while he was working. He lets Alex go he loses his worker and his money. And I don't know Jefferson all that much. But I know he doesn't like to lose.”

 

They sit in silence for a few minutes.

 

“Alright.” Washington sighs, “I'll figure something out.”

 

“Yea, you do that.” John scoffs and he’s up, putting on a coat.

 

Washington realizes it's the coat he gave Alexander.

 

The first time they met.

 

It seems so long ago yet, it was only a month ago.

 

“Hey!” He says and John bursts out laughing.

 

“I was wondering when you were going to notice, fits me good doesn't it?” He winks and George shakes his head.

 

“At Least it's in good use.” He puts on his own coat and hears John giggle.

 

“Oh you bet so it's being used. I feel so warm and cuddly.” He holds himself and Washington suppresses a chuckle.

 

The bell to the outside door rings as they walk out.

 

“Well this date has been quite lovely Mr. Washington, really I appreciate it. You and your 5 dollar check. Paying for my water like a real gentleman.” John jokes and Washington chuckles.

 

“Anytime John, same time next week?”

 

“If I have new information then ya, you bet!”

 

They part and go their separate ways.

 

George goes back to Manhattan and the bright lights.

 

John to the whore house, and torn nights.

 

____________________________________________________________

 

Alexander cuts his finger while cooking the turkey.

 

“OW FUCK!” He spits grabbing his hand and Washington shakes his head.

 

“Language! Do you have to curse so much? You sound like a sailor.”

 

Alex rolls his eyes.

 

“Maybe you should try it, feels good.” He smiles and Washington, who is currently cutting vegetables makes a disapproving noise.

 

“I used to curse, I feel no different now that I don't.” He says simply and Alex scoffs.

 

“Yes of course you don't. Liar.” He says under his breath and Washington looks back at him eyebrow raised.

 

“What did you say?” He asks.

 

“Nothing, dad.” Alex mocks and Washington turns to hide the small smile on his lips.

 

“And come on, Thanksgiving is tomorrow, not next year. It shouldn't take this long to mince!” He wipes his hands on the towel and goes over to Washington.

 

“It's harder than it looks.” The older man simply says and Alexander laughs.

 

“Yea I bet.”

 

Suddenly, Alex’s arms snake around Washington's waist, tiny and delicate. He gives George’s hip bone a squeeze and then his hands are on his.

 

“Like this.”

 

And slowly he begins to chop, fingers slightly damp and warm on George's own.

 

They both go quiet.

 

Washington's eyes look at their hands as they move a synched pace. The bright oranges from the carrots and lively greens from the celery blinding his vision from a sort of relaxed emotion.

 

Alex is barely tall enough to see over George’s shoulder, yet he makes it work. Cutting it all up blindly.

 

And if Alex’s finger gets a little too close to the silver of the knife, Washington moves his hands back, and Alexander follows and the process starts over again.

 

They do this until the carrots are gone.

 

And finally, as light and quick as he came.

 

He pulls away.

 

And the tops of George’s hands are exposed to the winter air and they go cold.

 

He's covered in goosebumps but he just doesn't know if it's from Alexander or the air.

 

He hopes it's from the air.

 

He knows it's from Alexander.

 

They continue their own work. Alex at the oven, baking and boiling. And George at the chopping board, cutting and skinning.

 

They go into a comfortable silence with that. Full house playing blindly on the living room t.v.

 

“Has Peggy found her gown?” Alexander asks suddenly and George chuckles with the memories of it.

 

“She sure has.” He says a smile on his lips.

 

Alexander looks up eyebrow raised. “Really? Is it nice?” He asks and Washington shakes his head.

 

“....It's different.” And Alexander laughs at that.


“Yea well she's different. Do you know what you will be wearing?” Alexander asks and George shrugs.

 

“Lafayette doesn't want to wear black, but it's tradition so I'm going to wear it.” Alexander hums.

 

“Yea, seems like Laf to not want to wear black.”

 

His skin warms to the sound of Alexander calling Lafayette by the nickname he calls him.

 

“Are you going with Eliza?” He asks tightly. He's been avoiding this for the longest. Not yet ready to accept the fact that Alex and Eliza are really a thing now. Are together.

 

But Alex shocks him.

 

“No actually. I'm sitting this one out.” He says, stirring the stuffing.

 

“Why not?” Washington asks. And he feels bad for feeling so good to know Alex won't be on her arm the entire night.

 

“Parties aren't really my thing. Plus I don't want to intrude, overstepping my boundaries here.” He jokes but Washington can see the little hints of sadness and uncomfortableness in his eyes.

 

“You aren't over stepping anything. Peggy loves you, they all love you.” He tells him and Alex rolls his eyes.

 

“Even Angelica?” He looks at him pointedly and Washington shrugs.

 

“She doesn't like things she doesn't understand.” And Alexander continues to stir.

 

“She doesn't understand you. She likes to over complicate things, it's in her nature I suppose. Got it from her mother. Anyways I tried to tell her there was nothing very different from you. That you were just a boy but she doesn't agree.”

 

“Just a boy.” Alex says quietly to himself, some of that sadness poking out onto his face. Washington wonders if he said the wrong thing. “Yea that's all I am.”

 

He goes silent for a few seconds and Washington says his name.

 

“Alexander?” He says in hopes of bringing the boy back down to Earth.

 

“Did you know Catherine?” The young boy chooses to say and Washington tilts his head at the brazenness of it.

 

“Sorry.” Alexander whispers. “But did you know her?”

 

“We have been friends since we were children.” George chooses to say and Alexander looks at him.

 

“Was she nice?” He asks and Washington chuckles.

 

“She was Angelica.” He chooses to say, and smiles when he hears an ‘ Ahhh’ from Alexander.

 

“Meaning she was nice, when she wanted to be. But for the most part she was just a strong hardworking woman. She taught Angelica everything she knows. Peggy and Eliza, they were daddy girls, still are but it was Angelica who was with Catherine the entire day. Catherine was a lawyer. That's where Angelica got it from.”

 

“She must have been devastated.” Alexander says quietly and George hums shaking his head.

 

“It absolutely broke her.” He wipes off the counter as he says this, finding things to do with his hands so he isn't forced to stay there and stare at the floor recalling the memories of one of his most beloved friends.

 

“She seems alright now.” Alexander says lightly and George shakes his head.

 

“You didn't know her before. Yes she was Angelica, smart and witty, but she was also happy. So happy and explosive. She's lost a few of those fireworks in her eyes.”

“I think we all did.” Alexander says quietly and Washington's looks back at him.

 

“Everyone that has lost someone has lost a few fireworks.”

 

“Are they still pretty?” Comes Alexander, broken and watery and for a second Washington thinks he's crying but he isn't.

 

“Angelica has the most warm and welcoming brown eyes I have ever seen. And while they are missing some fireworks, they excite the audience nonetheless.” Washington says seriously and Alexander looks away.

 

“Eliza...she...she said they came up here because their dad was losing his mind. They needed a break.” Washington shakes his head as he speaks.

 

“Losing the love of your life can do that to you.” He says and Alexander hums.

 

“Is that how you were? When you lost Martha?”

 

He doesn't expect it.

 

But he replies anyway.

 

“To an extent.”

“Can you describe it?” Alexander asks and it's a weird request but Alexander is a weird boy.

 

“It isn't going to be as pretty and poetic as yours.” He says lightly and Alex rolls his eyes smiling.

 

“Just try.”

 

And so he does.

 

“They told us she had cancer 8 months before she died. They said she had a year but she didn't. She only had 8 months.” He takes a seat, ruined dreams and broken words caught in his eyes.

 

“She was fine at first. But around month 6 things started to go wrong really fast. Before I knew it, I was running away from work to be at her side. Scared to be apart from her because I didn't know if she was going to be there when I got back. At first I spoke to her, she laid in bed and I was at her side, sneaking her peppermints because she liked them so much. And though she looked tired she was still pretty, still gorgeous. But as she continued to get worse, I stopped talking, scared that if I talked too much I would miss her telling me something. Telling me goodbye. I didn't know when she was going to die. The doctors were wrong about so many things, how could I trust them now? I was so scared that she would be gone if I blinked so I didn't. I stayed awake, I stayed with her.”

 

He pauses and realizes Alexander is in front of him now, eyes glassy.

 

“And then one day, on a Tuesday. She died. She was talking to me, talking about some old ‘I love Lucy’ episode. And then she just begin to go quiet. I asked her if she was alright. And she shook her head ‘yes’. But she was lying. To this day I still don't know why she lied. But she did, because after she got quiet she went to sleep and I sat next to her. I told her I loved her with everything in me and she said she loved me with everything in me as well. She said she didn't have enough in her to show the amount of love she had for me so she used my body instead and it was fine I was fine, I thought she was fine. But she never woke up. And I thought it was so funny, how I spent 2 months of my life running back to her so she wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, yet it still felt like I wasn't there when she left, even when I was right by her side. I laughed at that. And as I was laughing in the hospital hall, watching everyone running in and out I could feel it. I didn't have a lot of fireworks in my eyes to begin with, but I felt them all die out in that hall. As I laughed, the fireworks she lit up in my eyes blew out and I had nothing.”

 

He didn't realize Alexander was holding his hand until he was finished.

 

But he wasn't finished.

 

Not yet.

 

“When people die, a little bit of us dies with them. And by the end of our own life, we are already dead. If we live that long we have nothing in our soul because someone else took it when they left. It doesn't hurt. That I know. Nothing is going to hurt more than watching her die. Watching her leave me when we weren't finished. Letting her take those fireworks when I still wanted to light up my nights. Nothing will ever hurt more than that. And no I don't know how Angelica, Eliza or Peggy felt like when they lost their mom, I don't know how you felt like when you lost your mom. I just know that you all lost some fireworks. And I don't know your pain, but mine hurts a lot right now. And nothing will ever hurt more.”

 

Alexander hugs him so fast, the cup on the island next to them falls.

 

And the young boy has a few tears coming down his face but Washington isn't crying.

 

Hes got nothing in his eyes to cry out.

 

They don't say anything.

 

Not for a while.

 

They just stand there and hug. Harsh breaths and wild emotions whipping against their skulls in an erratic motion filled with memories they don't want to have.

 

“That was beautiful George.” Alex whispers into his shoulder. “You are beautiful.” The young boy continues and George holds him a little tighter.

 

“You are beautiful too Alexander.” He says suddenly and he can't control his voice right now, not the words coming out.

 

He was broken.

 

He wants to be broken right now.

 

Because he hurts.

 

So fucking much.

 

_____________________________________________________________

 

And Washington realizes it.

 

What he said and what it meant.

 

On the night of thanksgiving.

 

The girls come over dressed in their respective signature colors.

 

Alex and George dress down for the very first time, in jeans and beat up shirts.

Alex doesn't even bother to wear shoes.

 

They break out the beat up plates and old forks.

 

Peggy puts on a Christmas movie and lights a pumpkin scented candle.

 

They sit in the living room, beers scattering the room.

 

And they talk.

 

About everything and nothing.

 

They laugh at their own jokes and tease each other.

 

They talk about life.

 

Peggy talks about her flowers. Angelica talks about her new favorite book. Eliza talks about a new dress she bought, Alexander talks about why the country is in financial ruins and George just listens.

 

And he realizes it.

 

What he said.

 

And he realizes that for a tiny second, he might be wrong.

 

Because when Angelica runs off to the bathroom, and Peggy falls asleep on the couch he watches Eliza and Alexander.

 

How they dance, to the sound of some sappy music playing in the background.

 

How they're bodies sway in the air. How Eliza's brown hair runs down Alexander's arm from her head being on his shoulder.

 

Alexander barefoot on the carpet and hair out and wild and George just knows that he was wrong.

 

Because this hurts more.

 

Watching Alexander dance with her. It hurts more than everything else right now.

 

And he’s in the corner, watching them dance and it hurts, more than losing your fireworks.

 

And George doesn't notice Alexander staring back at him.


Because he's too busy dancing on his own.

Notes:

Theres a hidden song at the end of this one, it has nothing to do with Hamilton but its still a good song.The lyric is in there hehe.

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Notes:

SHES BACK
And this chapter sucks ass.
Sorry guys next one will be better. Promise.

Chapter Text

“I think we should get a big tree.” Comes Alexander and Washington shakes his head.

 

“Big trees are too excessive and unnecessary. We don't even have children there would be no point for one.”

 

“We have Peggy. She is still a child and I think she would want an actual Christmas tree and not a broken Charlie Brown one.” Alexander rolls his eyes and that makes Washington chuckle.

 

“I didn't mean a Charlie Brown tree.” He tries to defend but Alex holds his hand up.

 

“Sure you didn't. Cheap ass.” He mutters the last part under his breath and Washington goes to reply but Lafayette rushes through the door like an ocean wave full of color.

 

“Good evening.” He says dryly and the both of them just stare at him with eyebrows raised.

 

“What?” He asks confusedly.

 

“Nothing.” Washington begins. “It's just...well it's...”

 

“You usually have some slick shit to say.” Alexander cuts Washington off and goes back to typing.


Washington looks at Alexander with a horrid expression but he only hears Lafayette laugh.

 

Touché.” Lafayette takes a seat on the sofa from the left of Washington's desk, right next to Alexander. “It seems I'm not my happy self today.”

“Why not?” Washington asks.

 

“Adrienne kicked me out of the house for two days.”

 

He can clearly see Alexander press his lips together, a sign that the boy is trying to hold his laughter back and that only wants to make him laugh.

 

“Why did she kick you out?” He tries to ask seriously but even he can hear his voice crack at the end and that makes Alexander breathe heavy.

 

Surprisingly Lafayette doesn't notice the twos exchange. He stares at the carpet, a defeated look on his face and shoulders slump.

 

“Because I didn't wash the dishes.”


“Jesus Christ.” Comes Alexander and Lafayette shakes his head.

 

“She likes her dishes clean.”

“She evicted you.” He says with something of a smile on his face. “You got evicted from your own house for not cleaning. Well. I'll be damned. Should start making you do that.” Alexander turns and nods to Washington and the man scoffs.


“You can try. But I don't think you will succeed.”

 

Alexander opens his mouth to speak but Lafayette speaks first.

 

“Why would you kick him out of his own house?”

 

“Because I'm tired of cleaning up after him, can't tell you how much coffee I wipe up from the counter.”

 

“Why are you wiping up coffee from the counter? Why are you in his house?”

 

And shit.

 

They both forgot that.

 

Washington and Alexander both go silent. Both trying to think of a good excuse as Lafayette raises an eyebrow.

 

“My job is to make his life as easy as possible.” Alexander finally says. “Sometimes that means going back to his apartment.”

 

Laf looks at Washington.

 

“You never required that before.” He says brows furrowed and Washington shrugs.

 

“New assistant new rules.”

“Good assitant, bad rules.” Alexander corrects him and he chuckles nervously.

 

Lafayette is still silent watching them eyes squinted.

 

“Why didn't you wash the dishes?” Alexander says lightly trying to change the subject. Washington prays that Lafayette takes the bait.

 

And he does.

 

“I wanted to prove to her that I'm not her lap dog.”

“Great job.” George says behind his coffee and Laf glares at him.

 

“You could've said that in a better, less defiant way.” Alex snickers.

 

“I know. I just didn't know what else to do. Woman can get so psycho sometimes!” He throws his hands up and Alex puts on a small smile.

 

“It will be fine. Just stop being rude to her. You will lose.” He says standing up and leaving the room to his desk.

 

“I'm staying in your guest room my friend.” Lafayette says defeatedly and Washington nearly chokes.

 

“You can't.” He says quietly, trying to take out the panic rising in his throat.

 

Lafayette raises a brow.

 

“Why not?”

 

“It's under renovation.”

 

“Only that room?.”

 

“I'm afraid so.”

 

“That's...questionable.” Laf says under his breath and Washington shakes his head.

 

“Yes, but that's what's happening.”

 

He tries to not to let his guilt affect him when his friend leaves and Alex returns.

 

“Why do you look so blue?” Alex asks as he sets down a bunch of folders on Washington's desk.

 

“Gilbert asked to use my guest room for the two days.” He says simply and he can hear the sound of acknowledgment from Alexander.

 

“I see.” The young boy nods. “And what did you say?”

 

“That it's under renovation.”

 

“Interesting.” Alex rolls his eyes.

 

“Well it was the only thing I could come up with. Didn't see you here making up good excuses. Mr. I should make you clean or leave.” Washington says matter of factly and that results in a laugh from Alexander.

 

“Alright alright, you win this round.” Once he’s done organizing the folders he takes a breath and collapses on the couch.

 

“Let's go out to eat tonight.” He says after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

 

“Can't.” Comes George.

 

“And why not?” Alex shoots back, eyebrow raised.

 

“I have a dinner meeting.” Washington says tightly and he can practically hear the gears turning in Alexander's brain.

 

“Dinner meeting? Nothing in my planner says anything about a dinner meeting for you tonight I-”

 

“This one is in private.” Washington puts it straight and stands, cleaning up his space.

 

He doesn't look at Alexander though he knows the boy is frowning and having a million thoughts in his skull. He chooses to ignore it.

 

“It isn't a dinner meeting. It's a dinner date.” Alex says tightly and Washington chuckles.

 

“Hardly so.” He says instead and he finally musters the courage to look at Alexander fully.

 

These past few days have been hard.

 

Extremely hard.

 

Ever since Washington came to the conclusion that he felt something more than just a loving friendship for Alexander hes hasn't been able to look the boy in the eye for longer than 3 seconds without his stomach dropping and voice going shaky.

 

He liked Alexander.

 

That was for sure.

 

He had feelings toward the boy but he couldn't explain why.





Alexander was a hot mess.

 

Literally.

 

He wasn't Washington's type. Hot messes weren't in his vocabulary. Martha was a successful woman, a teacher and beloved by all her students. The girl he dated when he was in high school was an aspiring actress and though she never really got to be one she had disciplined and a hard working nature anyway.

 

Alexander was different.

 

He wasn't liked by a lot of people in the office, and yes he was hardworking but never disciplined and always said what was on his mind, whether anyone asked or not.

 

And Washington loved it.


He thought Alexander was enticing and exciting, and though he was frustrated by the lack of information Alex provided about himself and past, Washington thought sometimes that it was mysterious and hot. He would never tell the boy.

 

Him and Eliza were still going strong. Angelica was still skeptical of the boy and reading Washington like an open book. Peggy was cool about it.

 

But Washington couldn't contain these new founding emotions.

 

And when he turned around to see Alexander staring at him with big brown glassy eyes his knees went weak for a second.

 

“Sad that you aren't invited?” He says instead, deciding that looking at the boy in silence wasn't the best idea.

 

Alexander scoffs but Washington can see the vein in his neck.

 

“Hardly so.” He repeats and Washington chuckles.

 

“Then don't wait up.” His voice is slick when he walks out the room not looking back at Alexander.

 

He gives himself a mental high five for him playing cool.

 

He gives himself a mental face palm when he realizes he's just implied to Alexander that he has a date.

 

He goes to see John anyway.

 

__________________________

 

“So if you have nothing new to share to me...why did you call this meeting?” Washington asks with an eyebrow raised.

 

They're currently in the back of the coffee shop, John eating a muffin and Washington holding a glass of water.

 

“I think Alexander is on to us.” John says instead, he picks at the muffin while looking down, avoiding Washington's eyes.

 

“What makes you think that?” Washington asks and John shrugs.

 

“He knows I haven't been working all night recently. Asked me what I be doing until I go to work at 10.”

 

“What did you say?” Washington presses and John eats a tiny piece of the muffin.

 

“Hanging out with a friend.” He says and Washington nods, not bothered.

 

“Alexander is a secretive guy, probably likes to stay out of others business as well, at least that's the conclusions I've come to. He’ll be fine.” He says and John looks at him this time, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Really?” He looks at him and eats another tiny piece of the muffin. “You relaxing, never seen that before.” And Washington tries to not let that hurt him.

 

“Yea well Christmas is coming up. Gotta get in the jolly spirit.” John hums in a sarcastic tone.

 

“Ho ho ho.” He winks and Washington suppresses a smile.

 

“Jefferson is going to be in town again.” John says after a moment of silence and Washington nods.

 

“Why is he coming back?” He asks and John slides his fingers through Washington's hands and drags the glass of water towards him.

 

“Don't know. Don't care. I want him back in Virginia as soon as possible so the sooner he leaves the better.”

 

“That means Alexander is going to start staying over there late again.” Comes Washington sudden worry etched into his face.

 

“Probably.” John takes a sip.

 

They go silent again, both wrapped up in their thoughts and then John finally breaks the silence again.

 

“Why do you care so much about him?” He asks quietly and Washington chokes on his spit.

 

“I'm sorry?” He asks lightly and John rolls his eyes.

 

“I said, why do you care about him like this?”

Washington goes to reply but he shuts his mouth the second he opens it.

 

“I don't really know why.” He says.

 

“Maybe you just like fixing things.” John jokes and Washington chuckles but it's fake, the realization settling into his bones.

 

Maybe he does like to fix things.

 

________________________________

 

Lafayette calls him when he's about to get out of the car.

 

“Yes.” He says putting the phone in between his ear and shoulder.

 

“Hey let's get a drink.” The frenchman says tiredly and Washington feels a bit uncomfortable at the sudden loss of his French.

 

“Sorry my man I can't, too tired.” He picks up his briefcase and the rest of his three bags and wrestles to the door.

 

“Oh come on! Don't leave me like this! Stuck in some random hotel room, no alcohol. This is rude.” He says through the phone and Washington would laugh if he weren't dropping something every left and right.

 

“Hey it's not my fault the guest room is being cleaned.” He grunts trying to press the elevator button while juggling his bags.

 

Lafayette goes silent.

 

“What did you say?” He asks and Washington steps on the elevator at the exact time all his bags go rushing to the floor.

 

“I said I'm sorry my guest room is being cleaned. Look Gilbert as much as I'm enjoying this conversation, my life is literally scattered across the elevator floor. I got to go, talk later.”

 

He doesn't wait for Lafayette to respond but he instead picks everything up and speed walks to the apartment door.

 

When he gets in he hears Alexander whispering.

 

“....I can't help you anylonger. I'm sorry. No you listen to me. You've already ruined enough of my life. You're not taking this from me as well. I'm sorry I can't help you anymore. Stop calling me.”

 

He hears the sound that signals the phone hanging up and at that time he slams close the door, grunting as he does it.

 

“Sometimes I think I need a suitcase for the things you give me. I mean seriously, what is with all these papers.” He asks out of breath and Alexander puts something of a smile on his face.

 

“I'm sorry.” The young boy says and Washington raise a brow.

 

“You're sorry, really? That's new.” He drops the bags on the couch and stretches.

 

“You know what I mean.” He says, unlike himself, gripping the phone close to his stomach.

 

“Are you ok?” George asks though he already knows the answer.

 

Yes I'm fine.

 

“Yes I'm fine.” Alexander says and Washington tries to suppress the growing frustration and eye roll begging to come out.

 

“I just saw a ghost.” The young boy says and Washington looks at him.

 

“What do you mean?” Washington asks but even he knows that answer as well.

 

Nothing. Nevermind.

 

“Nothing. Nevermind.” Alexander says and Washington chuckles a little to himself.

 

That earns him a questioning look from Alexander.

 

“I'm going to bed.” Alexander turns around walking to his room.

 

“Goodnight Alex.” Washington says instead, not having the energy to read the boy any further tonight.

 

“Goodnight George.” Alexander says looking back at him. He leaves to his room without another word.

 

Washington thinks of the one-sided conversation he heard from the boy.

 

He thinks of Lafayette and his curiosity filled gazed.

 

He thinks of this masked Jefferson and his return to New York.

 

He thinks of the way John looks at him, and all the times the boy steals his glass of water.


But most of all, Washington thinks about the Christmas tree he has to buy.

Chapter 14: chapter 14

Notes:

Yikes.
Sorry Ive been gone for these two weeks, I got really busy again. And Ive also been working on something else. Something very exciting but Im not going to tell you guys just yet. Anyways here is a chapter. Im so sorry for any mistakes I didnt have time to get it properly fixed because I wanted this up as soon as possible.

I hope you enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Lafayette's curiosity only grows.

 

The days start out normal enough. He comes into Washington's office for his usual ranting and gossip but as time progresses, he starts to ask more questions, and they become more complex as he goes along.

 

At first they're simple questions like What were you up too last night? or Did you see Alexander? But after a week of those simple questions, the more difficult ones began to form.

 

How's the renovation in your house going? What are you fixing again?

 

Exactly where does Alexander live?

 

How did you find Alexander again?

 

And Washington tries to answer them to the best that he can, but Lafayette raises his brow and he just knows he has no hope.

 

Lafayette sees through everything.

 

And after every answer, Washington is ready for his French man to call him out on the lies. But he never does.

 

But strangely enough, Lafayette makes no accusations.

 

When Washington answers the questions, the Frenchman shakes his head and moves on, almost as if he really isn't snooping behind it all and is just generally curious.

 

Washington chooses to believe the latter.

 

Laf hasn't said anything. He should just leave it all alone.

 

It will go away eventually.

 

Since Jefferson came back to the city, Alexander has been leaving at night, even more than before actually and Washington feels both uneasy and relieved at the same time.

 

He knows Jefferson is dangerous, from the stories John tells him he knows. And Alexander may always be surviving but it doesn't meant he is invincible to pain. God knows how much makeup  he has on in the daytime at work.

 

But Washington is also relieved because he gets his house back to it's original state of it being only him.

 

While he does miss the things that have now become a normal setting in his apartment because of Alexander, he misses the silence sometimes.

 

He needs to think.

 

To breathe empty air.

 

He needs to figure out what's happening.

 

Washington isn't sure what he knows as of right now.

 

So he makes a list:

 

  1. He still knows close to nothing about Alexander. Only how old he is, where he is from and that he had a brother and mother but his mother died. He also went to Colombia but dropped out.
  2. Lafayette is suspicious that something is happening in Washington's home. He just doesn't know what.
  3. He still has no idea who Jefferson is and how to stop him and this horrible drug/prostitution service he's got going on.
  4. John, Angelica and his gut seem to be all telling him the same thing: Maybe Alexander isn't as innocent as he seems.
  5. Mickey needs more cat litter.
  6. Alexander burns things.

 

And that's all he can seem to come up with.

 

He sits in his car, staring at the apartment complex thinking about everything.

 

How much life has changed since Alexander came into his life.

 

And though everything has became more complex and hard, he is still happy with his decision nonetheless.

 

He is satisfied, for the most part.

 

And he still can't really give the answer as to why Alexander has became so important. He's not ready to deal with that enigma just yet.

 

He gets out of the car the same time Alexander is walking towards it.

 

“DId I scare you?” The boy gives him a corcky smile and Washington suppresses his own.

 

“Hardly. I haven't seen you around here in a long time.”

Alexander smile fades.

 

“Yea, sorry about that. I've been busy.”

He thinks of Jefferson.

 

“Are you alright?” Washington asks and again he already knows the answer before it comes out.

 

Yes, I'm fine.

 

“Yes...I'm alright.”

 

Close enough.

 

He doesn't push it anymore and without another word makes his way to the building, Alexander following.

 

The two move at their own pace. In their silence.

 

They both stand side by side on the elevator.

 

And Alexander is so close, but so far away.

 

They get to the apartment.

 

They go to bed.

 

___________________________________________

 

“You have to wear black, Laf.” Washington groans and in response the Frenchman glares at him.

 

“No I do not. Not if I don't want to.”

 

“But it's traditional.” Alexander squeaks complete and utter amazement in his face. Washington reckons Alexander has never met anyone as stubborn as him.

 

“I do not care. Black is not my color.” Lafayette shakes his head and falls onto the couch heavily sighing as he does so.

 

“I think you would look good in black. Black makes you look slimmer.” comes Alexander and Washington makes a noise of approval.

 

“I also think that same thing.” He says and he hears the man groan.

 

“I look good in everything.”  Lafayette shrugs “I still don't want to wear it.”

 

Washington sighs while Alexander rolls his eyes.

 

“This isn't about you, Gilbert. It's about Peggy, let her shine...in her dress.” Alexander says a little bit bewildered. He recently saw the dress and has had the same reaction of everyone else.

 

Lafayette goes silent.

 

“Hamilton is right.” Comes George. “Let Margarita have this. She’s quite a remarkable young woman with a lot to say therefore you should let her say it without any distractions.”

 

“You should hear her at dinner.” Comes Alexander and he squeaks.

 

“Dinner?” Lafayette asks incredulously and the other two men just stare at him in shock.

 

“That's it! Someone tell me what's going on?! Why are you at dinner with the Schuyler sisters!” He asks and though it should be anger there is nothing but but a little bit of hurt and confusion behind it.

 

Alex answers first.

 

“When I drop off papers, the girls are over there eating...what would be going on?” He looks Lafayette in the eye when he says this and it even takes Washington back a little.

 

If he didn't know any better he would have thought Alexander was telling the truth.

 

But he's been lying for a long time.

 

It would make sense that he's good at it.

 

Lafayette stares at the both of them with a blank stare. Something boiling underneath the surface.

 

He says nothing else.

 

They all continue their work.

 

_______________________________________



He’s on the phone with Angelica when he hears it.

 

At first it's a bump then a groan followed by hushed and quick murmurs.

 

“Uh..Angelica, I have to go. I'll speak to you later.”

He doesn't even wait for a reply but instead hangs up.

 

He goes exploring through the back hall, the one that no one really goes to because it's only a few empty closets and Washington's own office.

 

He walks slowly, listening to every detail that might unlock these odd noises.

 

“I don't know what you want from me! I'm doing the best I can.”

It's Alexander’s voice.

 

When he does get to the closest it's coming the loudest from he doesn't bother to wait or speak.

 

He opens the door.

 

Alexander squeaks.

 

“THE FUCK GEORGE!” Alexander grabs at his heart, falling back on the racks behind him.

 

Washington remains silent, jaw slack and eyes wide.

 

“What...are you doing?” He asks and Alexander swallows hard, regaining his balance.

 

“I was trying to have a private conversation.” He hangs up the phone, not even batting an eye.

 

Washington remains silent.

 

He wants to ask who the conversation was with but he knows Alexander will only snap at him so there's no use.

 

“In a closet?” He chooses to ask instead and Alexander sighs.

 

“Yes, a closet in a hall that no one goes to. I thought I would have some privacy but it seems like I don't.” He glares at Washington.

 

“My apologies.” Washington says instead and goes to leave.

 

But Alexander is grabbing onto his shoulders and it makes his body warm up again.

 

“I...I'm sorry as well.” He says eyes trained on the floor.

 

Washington looks back, hidden shock in his eyes.

Alexander apologizing? That doesn't happen too often.

 

“I shouldn't be snapping at you in your own building. It's your building, you have every right to go where ever you please.”

Washington shakes his head not trusting his own voice just yet.

 

They stand together like that in silence. Alex staring at the floor, George staring at Alexander.

 

Finally he speaks.

 

“Do you know a James Reynolds?” Alexander asks and it's quiet and small, unlike his usually powerful way of speaking.

 

Washington squints his eyes while thinking.

 

“He sounds familiar yes. Why?”

 

Alexander shakes his head.

 

“I go back with him. If you could say that. He’s one of the board members at Colombia.”

 

Washington nods.

 

“Yes I do remember him. I met him at a gala so many years before.” He says a little slower this time, noticing the changing facial expressions on Alexander’s face.

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

Yes. It's fine.

 

“No. It's not.”

 

Washingtons heart drops.

 

Alexander, admitting defeat.

 

Something really must be wrong.

 

“Well what's happening?” Washington asks and before he can even grasp what's happening, Alexander is pulling him into the closet by the tie and shutting the door behind him.

 

“I...I owe him some money.” Alexander breathes out and he runs his hands through his now messy ponytail.

 

“Money? Money for what?” Washington asks. He tries to keep his voice steady but it's hard to do that at the new found proximity he has with Alexander.

 

The young boy shakes his head.

 

“From school. I owe him some money when I still went to Colombia.”

 

“Well how much?” Washington asks.

 

“2,000” He sighs and Washington takes a step back despite not having any space.

 

“Why did you need to borrow 2,000 dollars from him?” But Alex and shaking his head aggressively.

 

“Please.” Alex says quietly.

 

His eyes are on the floor again and Washington realizes what's happening.

 

“When do you need it by?” He asks suddenly and Alexander is shaking his head.


“Please you don't have to do this I-”

“You're obviously at rock bottom. When do you need it by?” He asks seriously.

 

“Friday. I need it by Friday.” Alexander answers defeatedly and Washington shakes his head.

 

“I'll get it for you.”

 

Alex opens his mouth to protest but suddenly the dooring is flying open and Washington is met with Lafayette's wide eyed gaze.

 

Alexander does a soft gasp and Washington remains silent.

 

Lafayette looks at the both of them.

 

“Sorry.” He says with that same blank expression on his face.

 

“I was looking for the bathroom.”

 

____________________________________________

 

“We need to have a talk.” Lafayette doesn't wait for George to respond but instead closes the man's office door with a soft glare to Alexander.

 

“I...what's going on?” Washington asks cluelessly though he can already feel, the growing anxiety and sweaty palms.

 

“It's about you and your assistant.” Laf takes a seat, taking off his suit jacket and Washington just knows he's in for an interrogation.

 

“Where did you find Alexander? You never told me?” Laf squints his eyes and sits back.

 

Washington can feel himself getting jittery and nervous. He's a horrible liar.

 

“A friend told me he was in need of a job so I said I'll take him in, put him under my wing and help him out.”

“What friend?” Laf asks.

 

“Madison.” Washington says without thinking. Lafayette rolls his eyes at that.

 

“Of course he had to be part of this.” The Frenchman mumbles under his breath.

 

“Part of what?” Washington tilts his head a little.

 

Lafayette looks at him in the eye almost as if he is searching for something.

 

“Nothing.”

 

They go silent.

 

“How long have you known Alexander?” Lafayette questions after a few moments.

 

“Well about less than two months. I met him in November. Why are you asking all these questions, Gilbert?” George says lightly.

 

“Nothing just curious.”

 

And with that, the Frenchman stands and grabs his jacket and strides over to the door.

 

Savez-vous que vous avez été très aimé? ” He asks quietly and it takes a few moments for Washington to put it all together.

 

“I'm sorry?” He asks voice cracking a little.

 

“Martha. Elle t'a beaucoup aimé” Lafayette says again, looking Washington in the eyes. “I hope you know that.”

 

Washington tries to contain the forming anger in his stomach.

 

“Yes.” He says tightly. “I know my wife loved me greatly, she was my wife after all. And I loved her just as much. I still love her just as much.” He looks Lafayette back in the eye not bothering to hide his angry ora.

 

Lafayette doesn't say anything.

 

He just leaves.

 

Alexander comes in shortly after, looking back into the hallway as he walks.



“What was that about?” He asks a little wary. “I never seen Laf so tense. And why was he scowling at me?”

He takes a seat in the chair Laf previously was occupying.

 

Washington stares at his desk, trying to figure out what just happened, what Lafayette had been insinuating but like usual, he can come up with nothing.

 

“I don't know.” He says instead, not meeting Alexander's curious eyes.

 

“I have the money for you.”

Notes:

Uh-oh

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Notes:

An update? So soon? Oh my goodness.
Yes it happened I actually updated within a reasonably amount of time.
I dont know where this chapter came from but I like it.
So I hope you enjoy, sorry about any errors.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Washington hasn't seen Lafayette all day.

 

And this is really weird in his eyes, considering Lafayette has always came into his office for all the years they worked together.

 

This tells him something is wrong.

 

He just doesn't know what.

 

“Have you seen Gilbert today?” He asks Alexander when the young boy walks into his office at the end of the day.

 

Alexander makes a face, looking back.

 

“No. But Burr stopped by asking me to give him some reports you two made the other day so he has to be here.” He continues and that makes Washington's stomach churn.

 

They both stay silent for a while, staring around trying to understand what's happening.

 

But they can't.

 

So they try to move on, the elephant is still in the room though.

 

“Are you coming home right away?” Alexander looks back at George and he shakes his head.

 

“No. I uh...I have-”

 

“Another dinner meeting.” Alexander says sarcastically rolling his eyes. “It's the third one this week.”

 

“Sorry.” Washington sighs. “It's been a lot to discuss.”

 

He thinks of John.

 

“I'm sure.” Alexander says tightly.

 

Washington looks at the boy.

 

He’s been looking less tired lately. Getting more sleep and returning home more earlier. Washington figures Jefferson must have been taking it easy on Alexander. That and the fact that Alexander is free from debt from James Reynolds, though he still hasn't told George why he was in debt to begin with.

 

“You look better.” Washington says after a few moments.

 

He notices Alexander shift.

 

“Thank you. I feel better.” He gives a soft smile.

 

“That's good.” Washington puts his hands behind his back, suddenly feeling nervous.

 

“Yea well you're to blame.” Alexander looks at him and his eyes seem brighter than before.

 

“Nonsense.” Washington waves his hand and Alexander is already scoffing.

 

“You're much too modest Mr. Washington. Youve always have been. It is in fact with great pleasure that I blame most of my good fortune on you. And you might say you didn't do anything. But you know that you did.”

 

At first it takes Washington back a little.

 

Alexander and his honesty having been making more appearances than usual lately. Washington blames it on the holiday coming up.

 

“I wouldn't have been able to give you these good fortunes if you didn't impress me from the moment you met me. This is all you Alexander.” Washington finally says and Alexander shakes his head.

 

“Guess we are both just good people.” Washington continues and Alexander looks down.

 

“Yea. Maybe.”

 

Washington chooses not to ask.

 

“My present to you is so iconic.” Alexander says instead after a few beats of silence. He's smiling that childish smile. The one Washington caught a glimpse of at the aquarium, and the smile is so beautiful Washington almost ignores what Alexander said.

 

Almost.

 

He chokes.

 

He starts coughing, hidden panic building in his throat.

 

Alexander just laughs.

 

“You ok over there grandpa?” He pats the older man on the back and George shakes his head.

 

“Yea I'm fine. Thanks.” He says dryly and that only makes Alexander smile even more.

 

“Glad to help my elders. Call me when you need help crossing the street.” He teases and Washington rolls his eyes.

 

“Only if I can change your diaper after.” And that makes Alexander feign shock.

 

“I am potty trained.” He says in fake offense.

 

Washington doesn't laugh.

 

But he does smile.

 

He puts on his coat and takes his briefcase all the while Alexander stares at him intensely. Almost as if the boy is searching for a clue as to where Washington is going.

 

“If it's a date, you should dress a little better than that! Get some color in there Mr. Black-and-Blue.” And Washington stays silent.

 

“Good thing it isn't a date.” He says while walking out the door.

 

“Yea yea yea. Whatever.” Is the last thing he hears from Alexander before stepping on the elevator and pushing the 1st floor button.

 

___________________________________________________________

 

John only becomes stranger.

 

It freaks Washington out a little but now he just tries to get use to it.

 

He's a kid.

 

Kids are weird.

 

He is still taking Washington's water, despite having every opportunity to get his own. He still calls these meetings, despite having no new information for Washington to go by. And he still tries to talk Washington out of helping Alexander, despite Alexander being his one and only friend.

 

“What's the point of these meetings John? You've got nothing new.” Washington asks tiredly. And no he isn't angry with the boy, he can never be angry with him. He is just confused and tired.

 

John shrugs.

 

“Got no where else to go?” He gives a painful smile and that makes Washington chuckle.

 

“Why not ask Alexander to hang out then?” He asks and John shakes his head, curls bouncing around his face.

 

“He's always too busy. And we haven't spoken in so long, I wouldn't know what to say to him. I couldn't look him in the eye knowing I was lying to him and telling him stuff he probably should know.”

 

Washington thinks of Lafayette.

 

“I understand.” He says seriously and John cracks a smile.

 

“You always understand.” John replies though it sounds like he’s really talking to himself. “Mr. George Washington, the kind, caring, brave man who always understands.”

 

Washington squirms.

 

“You flatter me too much.”

“I flatter you just enough.” John says without hesitation, then he is slipping his thin delicate fingers through Washingtons.

 

“Listen to me.” He says and oh no.

 

Oh no.

 

Washington gets it.

 

He gets it and he doesn't like it at all.

 

But he can't say anything. He can't move. Shock and realization boiling underneath his skin setting his insides on fire and he can't move.

 

It's like the first time he met John.

 

In that house. The house where he realized Alexander was a prostitute.

 

He can't move.

 

It feels like hours before John continues.

 

“I think you're a very wonderful man.” He breathes and Washington can tell John is nervous and giving time to Washington in case the older man wants to move away or stop it.

 

But he still can't move. He can't speak.

 

So John continues.

 

“I knew you were a wonderful man the first moment I met you. I knew you were different and different in the good way. And when I saw you take Alexander. Literally carry him out of that hell hole and save him. I knew you were not only wonderful but incredibly beautiful and caring. And I love Alexander I really do. But he doesn't deserve you. He can't love, George. He can't love anything because everything he does love dies. Let me love you. And you love me. You did you're part for Alexander. You helped him and got him back on his feet. Gave him a job and everything. Now it's my turn. And I don't mean it's my turn for you to give me that. I mean it's my turn to thank you and be with you. Let me be with you. You deserve someone that might actually try.”

 

John looks him in the eyes when he says this. Complete and utter fear on his face and his fingers are shaking. Washington can feel his fingers shaking and he doesn't know what to do.

 

They go silent.

 

Clatters and dialogue around them as John looks at him in dying anticipation.

 

“Well?” He asks.

 

And Washington finds his voice.

 

“John, John I...I…” He looks at the boy and it's his eyes are the saddest thing. Filled with so much hope, so brown and big and glassy. And they're pretty. They're gorgeous.

 

But they're not Alexanders.

 

And he doesn't have the courage to say that to John.

 

“I'm sorry.” He says instead standing up and rushing through the tables in the room to get out.

 

“WAIT!” John screams and then he's up following him out, just as fast.

 

By the time Washington makes it outside he is out of breath and in the middle of a panic attack.

 

He can't hurt John, he won't hurt John. Hes got to get out of here. Before the boy comes out.

 

He turns and speed walks to his car but it's too late.

 

John is grabbing his shoulder and turning him around and suddenly his lips are on his.

 

And John's lips are soft and full, and he tastes like the hot chocolate he was drinking and maybe George would have enjoyed it. Maybe he would've enjoyed John and cared for him the way he wanted to be cared for. But Washington can't get rid of a pair of brown eyes, dark hair and pale skin from his vision.

 

And he doesn't want to.

 

But he can't hurt John.

 

He can't.

 

So he tries to relax and waits for John to be finished.

 

_________________________________________________________

 

He’s exhausted when he turns the car off in front of the apartment.

 

John kissed him for a long time.

 

And when the boy was done, Washington told him he had to leave.

 

John did nothing but say ‘ok’ and give him a small smile.

 

His smile is still haunting Washington.

 

He looks over the steering wheel at the city before him, trying to get his thoughts in order but they keep running away and banging against his skull.

 

He takes a deep breathe.

 

And presses his head against the steering wheel.

 

After what seems like forever Washington finally gets out of the car.

 

He has to talk to John. Tell him he doesn't...feel the same way. He has to tell John that Alexander may not be what he think a lover should be but Washington and Alexander aren't even together and they never will be so it was no use. He has to tell John he doesn't love him like that.

 

Before it's too late.

 

He tries to make a speech. One that's soft and delicate and won't hurt the boy too much.

 

He gets on the elevator, and goes up. He works on his intro but he gets stump.

 

He walks the hall while trying to get his reasons as to why he doesn't have those feelings for John. But they all seem to brutal.

 

He’s opening the door when he is trying to come up with a closing. How would they move on from this? Could they move on?

 

He's so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost misses a fuming Lafayette and a blushing Alexander on the couch.

 

Almost.

 

He chokes.

 

Again.

 

There's silence in the room except for Washington's coughing and Alexander gets up and goes and gets him some water.

 

“Remind me to get you a doctors appointment on that. You're choking way too much.” He says nonchalantly.

 

“WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE?!” Screams Lafayette and Alexander looks at Washington to explain.

 

“How...how did you get into my house?” Washington asks breathing heavy.

 

He really doesn't know what's happening either.

 

Today has just been weird.

 

“I know where you hide the key. Stupid!” He says angrily.

 

Lafayette looks down, and sighs and when he does look back up, some of the anger is gone.

 

Some.

 

“You lied to me! You lied to Martha! How could you!” He screams and Washington is shaking his head.

 

“What are you talking about!” Washington takes his coat off.

 

“I sat here for 3 hours and waited for you to return home. But you didn't come home. Your mistress did.”

 

“Mistress?” Now it's Alexander's turn speak. “I'm not a mistress!”

 

“Oh don't lie to me, the both of you. Lying won't work anymore. I see it all!” He points at the two men.

 

“And what exactly have you been seeing.” Washington's heart is beating fast.

 

“The looks, the inside jokes. The fact that Alexander has all the keys to your apartment and cars. He dresses so nice, despite not being paid that much. He obviously lives here. He knows a lot about Martha despite never meeting her. You two were even getting freaky in a closet last week for Christ sakes! You've been cheating on Martha and now that she's gone you don't have to hide your affair anymore! How long have you two been doing this?” Laf spits and Washington takes a step back.

 

“You really think I was cheating on my wife?” He asks shocked and hurt.

 

“He’s half your age George. I've seen this too many times to count.”

 

Alexander remains silent.

 

And Washington shakes his head again.

 

He looks at Lafayette, hurt laced in his voice.

 

“I have never cheated on my wife. I have never slept with Alexander. He lives here because he has nowhere else to live!” He says and he can see Alexander's head snap in his direction.

 

Don't tell him all.

 

“Then where was he living before you supposedly met him those two months ago?” Lafayette asks.

 

“With my father. He was a bit of a jerk.” Comes Alexander and he looks a Washington but Washington is staring at the ground still shaking his head.

 

“After all we’ve been through. All that you've seen of me all that you heard. That is the conclusion you come up with? That I'm this perverted cheater. Keeping my affair under wraps until my wife died?I thought you were my friend. I thought you were smart.” He looks at Lafayette and he can see the Frenchman's anger fizzling down.

 

“Why didn't you just tell me Alexander lived here? Why did you have to keep lying?”

“I told him not to tell anyone.” Comes Alexander again. “It's not how I would really like to be seen in an office building full of good name and spoiled rotten people with wealth.”

Silence once again fills the room.

 

“George.” Says Lafayette.

 

“My wife. The most beautiful thing on the planet. You thought I didn't love her enough to only be with just her?” Asks Washington and yea he really is hurt.

 

Lafayette sighs and looks at Hamilton.

 

“What are your priorities?” He asks the boy and Alexander doesn't hesitate.

 

“Being the best I can be at my job and getting Eliza a nice christmas present.” He says and Laf shakes his head.

 

“Can you give us a minute?” He asks Alexander and the young boy shakes his head. He grabs his coat and leaves.

 

“My friend-” Starts Lafayette but Washington cuts him off.

 

“If I was your friend, you would've never conjured up that horrible idea.” He shakes his head.

 

“Well what else should I have thought! You were lying to me! I didn't want to believe it, but I had nothing else.”

 

Washington goes to the front door and opens it.

 

“Just get out.” He says quietly.

 

“Tell me then. Tell me you've never cheated on Martha. Tell me you've never slept with Alexander and you never will.”

 

Washington goes silent.

 

“I've never slept with Alexander. And I never will.” Washington looks Lafayette and the eyes.

 

“And I have never cheated on my wife in my entire life.”

 

And Lafayette deflates a little.

 

“Ok my friend. I'm sorry. I really am. But you have to tell me what's happening. I can't stand by you if you don't tell me what's going on.” Washington nods, but he doesn't let go of the doorknob.

 

Lafayette reads between the lines and begins putting on his coat.



“There's something about Alexander, George. And you know it. Weather you accept it or not is the question.” He looks at George, gives his shoulders a squeeze and then he leaves.

 

Washington gets ready for bed in silence and in numb movements.

 

It's when he’s laying in bed, feeling the wetness of his tears on his pillow does he hear Alexander come back in.

 

“I'm sorry George.” He hears from Alexander's muffled voice from the other side of the door. George remains silent and he doesn't move or breathe until Alexander's shadow on the floor disappears.

 

He then hears the boy's door shut.

 

Sorry.

 

Thinks George.

 

Sorry.


Alexander has another nightmare that night.

Notes:

And shit hit the fan.

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Notes:

Alot of shit happens in this chapter.

Good luck

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Washington has been avoiding John ever since.

 

John has schedule several meets in the span of the three days the two have spent apart since their...incident. And in each case Washington has turned him down in fear that boy will try to make another move.

 

He still hasn't figured out how to let the boy down easy.

 

He doesn't think there is a way to let someone down easy.

 

No matter what you say, telling someone you don't feel the same way will always be brutal and hurtful. It's embarrassing and uncomfortable and at times could leave the other person bruised and beaten.

 

And Washington never wants to see John beaten. Never bruised.

 

So he just avoids the boy and lets John think whatever he wants to think. He won't do any harm that way. And when Washington knows ripping the band aid off won't be as painful he will do it.

 

But until then, no John.

 

He’s sitting in his office when his phone rings and he just knows it John.

 

No Jhon.

No John.

No John.

 

 

He lets it ring.

 

It starts ringing again.

 

“You gonna answer that?” Alexander yells from his desk. Hes currently sitting up all stiff, tie half undone and pony tail looking a little messy.

 

Washington supposes the boy is writing one of his infamous essays.

 

“Uh no...prank call. They got me already twice today.” Washington says instead rubbing at his face.

 

God he needs some sleep.

 

“Prank calls? That's odd...You want me to tell the security desk about them?” He asks and Washington is shaking his head though Alexander can't see him.

 

“No there's no need for that. They're probably just kids. Trying to be rebellious.” He says and he hears Alex laugh.

 

“Rebellious huh?” He pauses. “Is this what Americans think rebellion looks like?” He asks and Washington scoffs.

 

“You know the answer to that, Hamilton.”

 

“You're right, lots of great ole’ American stories about your rebellions. How brave you people are.” He teases and Washington just knows he has a slick smile on his face.

 

“You people? Are you not an American Hamilton?” He decides to play along and Hamilton hums.

 

“I suppose I am. I came here, nothing but the clothes on my back and made a living. Isn't that the American dream?” He asks.

 

“Yes, you're missing a few things but for the most part you get it.” Answers Washington and then there is a moment of silence and Alexander is walking into his office, fixing his hair and tie.

 

“And exactly what am I missing?” He smiles and takes a seat on the couch.

 

“The white picket fence and happy wife and children.” George tells him and Alexander shrugs.

 

“Don't like the color white, fences look weird. And I'm too young for a wife and child. I'm great where I'm at.”

“Don't let Eliza hear you say that.” Washington shakes his head.

 

“I know. I've known her quite sometime. She can get so…”

 

“Worked up?” Washington asks and Hamilton laughs.

 

“Yes, I suppose so.” He pauses and stares at his hands. “Sometimes I wonder.”

 

“About what?” Washington looks over.

 

“Why we are together. We are extremely different. We both have different ideals and objects. Beliefs and attitudes.”

“Opposites attract.” Washington swallows. He really hates talking about Alex and Eliza in a relationship.

 

Flashbacks of Thanksgiving fill his mind.

 

“No, not our opposites. Yes we get along and we enjoy each other. But I don't know. I can't help but feeling like it's wrong, our puzzle pieces aren't connecting. Like we are cute in pieces but together, the pictures are too different to be comprehended.”

 

“What's your picture?” Alexander has Washington's full undivided attention.

 

But Alexander ignores him.

 

“Eliza’s picture is blue, with blue skies and blue dresses and blue cotton candy. Crystal blue water, so translucent you can see yourself perfectly. You can see what you are, what you want and what you are doing. Clean. Blue.”

 

“But what is yours Alexander?” Washington tries again.

 

“My picture is red. Red skies and red wine that makes you drunk. Red fire so opaque you can't see a damn thing so you're forced to walk through it, making bumps and mistakes as you go.”

 

“Burning everything in your path.” Washington continues.

 

And Alexander just looks at him.

 

He looks at him and Washington looks back.

 

He doesn't know how long they are staring at each other. But Alexander looks so broken and he just wants to hold him.

 

“Why is everything fire with you?” Washington finally asks.

 

“It's a long story.” He smiles though it's bitter.

 

“WIll you ever tell me?” Washington looks away.

 

“Yes.” Alexander answers.

 

“One day.”

 

__________________________________________________

 

“Come on! Or we are going to miss the movie!” Peggy groans as she pulls on the door.

 

Angelica rolls her eyes.

 

“I'm praying on it.”

“Angelica.” Eliza warns and in response Alexander smiles at her.

 

Washington watches them from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hands.

 

“Are you sure you don't want to go?” Eliza looks a Washington, giving him her sweet smile. “I heard it's really good!”

 

“Yea uncle G! Come with us please!!” Peggy begs and Angelica shakes her head.

 

“Leave the man alone little sisters, he’s obviously tired.” Both sisters roll their eyes at her in response.

 

Washington chuckles.

 

“I'm afraid Angelica is right. These past few days have been quite hard.”

 

He doesn't look at Alexander. But he feels Alexander's eyes on him.

 

“I think a quiet night in would be much appreciated.” He smiles at the girls, still avoiding Alexander's eyes.

 

They all nod together and began their way out.

 

George finally summons enough courage to pat Alexander on the back.

 

“Alright son, take care of my girls.” He says and he can see the smirk on Alex’s face.

 

“Of course sir.”

 

And before he can even register, the room goes silent. And he is all by himself.

 

He thinks a few things over on what to do with himself for the rest of the evening, settling on a book about capitalism in the twenty-first century. Except for when he went to get the book, it was nowhere to be found on the shelf.

 

“Alexander.” He muttered. The only kid he’s ever met that willingly reads a French book about capitalism.

 

He makes his way to the boys room, stopping at the door.

 

He’s never really been in it.

 

Sure, when Alex has his nightmares he comes in there to comfort him but ever since the foundation situation, he hasn't seen the room.

 

Alex would be pissed off he went in it without his permission. Even if it was to get a simple book that shouldn't have been there in the first place.

 

But Alex isn't here.

 

So he goes in.

 

It's different with the lights on. The colors don't seem so dark anymore and Washington remembers that Martha had the room painted a light green. He's so used to seeing it in the dark he just assumed they were a dark blue.

 

He could see the hardwood floor. He knew there was one by the feeling of the coldness on his feet when he would walk on it in the middle of the night.

 

The bed was made and Washington scoffed at it.

 

Alex didn't seem like the type to make his bed.

 

He looks around for the book for a few minutes, going through papers and closets but he can't seem to find it.

 

He goes over the dresser and begins his search, the background noise filled with nothing but the murmurs of the t.v in the living room.

 

When he gets to the last drawer he can't see all the way back so he digs his hand in there and moves it around, aiming for a cold hardcover book.

 

And he finds it.

 

He gives himself a nod of approval and drags the book forward.

 

But what he reads isn't what he was looking for.

 

Instead of the book about capitalism, Washington finds a different book.

 

One that says Letters on it.

The man raises an eyebrow at it, and he would've put it back but it was Alexander's hand writing.

 

Why did Alexander write letters on it?

 

Exactly what's in it?

 

And suddenly it's as if the t.v is off.

 

And Washington is left to the excruciating pain of anticipation and silence. He can feel sweat forming on the back of his neck, and his fingers twitch. He bites at his lip and wonders.

 

Could this be his chance?

 

His only chance to unlock Alexander.

 

In a book entitled Letters in his hands, Washington can feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

 

And he’s made a decision.

 

He stands and in silence walks out of the room, closing the door.

 

The book still in his hands.

 

When George finally gets to his own room he shuts the door and even locks it though he doesn't know why. He turns on the lamp at his bedside and takes a breath before opening it.

 

September 22,2002

 

Dear Mother,

        

       It is with great sadness I share news with you in your comfort of the afterlife while I sit here with the living. You must forgive me for telling you so soon, for it is not my time to speak with you right now. But I have no one else to tell this swift revelation to.

 

He looks up.

 

He can't do this.

 

These letters, they aren't meant for him, they aren't meant for anyone and it's wrong.

 

He can't do this.

 

Washington closes his eyes, flash backs of all the times Alexander mentioned his mother and it breaks his heart. He can't read them.

 

But suddenly he remembers that Alexander is an enigma that's constantly evolving into a greater enigma and this might be the only way to solve it.

 

He feels horrible yes. But he also needs answers.

 

He prays that God will forgive him for what he is about to do.

 

He says his apologies to Alexander's mother.

 

And he reads on.

 

 

It's just, I started high school, and everything is so much different from Nevis. Different in a way in which people talk different, believe and, want different things. While I only want to stay alive. They want to change the world. It's beautiful if I must say. How many dreamers are in New York. How they don't let anything stop them. It's inspiration to me, makes me want to do the exact same. Though no one sees me, I see them.

 

Washington scans the letter to the end.

 

I'm changing. I can feel it. The child you once knew is no longer roaming this body. My soul has evolved into a complicated machine that's learning it's place. I'm learning my place. I'm making my place.

 

Alexander.

 

Washington goes through a number of letters like this from Alexander to his dead mother. And slowly but surely he can see the shift.

 

From one Alexander to another.

 

A sad little scared boy forming into a brave and charging young man-the Alexander he knows today-and it's all because of the high school he went to.

 

The city really did change him.

 

He goes through the book some more until he lands on another letter that sticks out.

 

It's in an envelope with a red stamp that says RTS on it. It has a lot of stamps, some Washington has never seen before.

 

He opens it.

 

December 30,2007

 

Dear father,

   

        Isolation is better than expected from what I gathered. James has left now, and I don't know where he is except from the occasional letter. One has a postmark from a prison, but I choose to ignore it. And though I am partily relieved of my new found lonesomeness. I still need someone to tell these things to. And this is where you come in. It has been a while since I have written a word to you, even longer since I spoken a word to you. But here I am, a bleeding pen within my bleeding fingers. Sending a message I know will be sent back. I'm writing you to tell you that it is in fact hard in New York just as it is on Nevis. And I can't figure out if it's because of the city itself, or my bad luck. I have grown tired of trying to brave fires. I've come to the conclusion, it's easier in snow. And I know you don't know what I mean, for I have never seen snow until recently but I tell the truth. I mean fires from within. It's been hard. Here is a testimony: One the night of December 20th a horrible snowstorm hit the city of New York. The snow was so thick, even God himself could not see the city he created with his thinning hands. I had been kicked out of Colombia and hired as a prostitute, in order to pay off my remaining debut to a Mr. James Reynolds. I have been evicted from my apartment and have to live in the whore house with the rest of the people. And it just felt like I was on fire. I'm always on fire here. And so one night, when I was sure a client wouldn't be knocking on my door, I took off my shirt and shoes and walked barefooted to central park, which would be more than an hour walk from where my home was located. Once I reached the park, I layed down on a park bench, still covered in snow and waited to die. I didn't die. But I did go numb. My skin turned purple and blue and my eyes watered. And it's only when I'm alone, when I'm out of the whore house sleeping on a park bench in the snow do I feel my body go numb. My mind blanks and suddenly I almost feel dead. I need to feel dead. But once I feel close enough to death, once I feel his hand on my shoulder. I wake up. I get up and I go home. Everything is gone. You. My mother. James. They were my home and now I'm alone. And so I lay in the snow hoping to die. To catch a break. And I'm sad now. I won't ask you for money because I know you don't have any and even if you did, you wouldn't give it to me. Well I don't want your money. I don't even want your name. I just want you to know that your spirit is made of nothing but music that makes the devil dance. And here I am to you, writing with a broken soul and empty veins. I've run out of ideas. So I write. And sometimes I get angry. I should've stayed in the snow. Because home becomes what hurts the most. Home is what hurts me the most. My home burned to the ground, I should've stayed in the snow.

 

 

Alexander.

 

Washington folds the letter back into the envelope.

 

Alexander was suicidal.

Is he still suicidal?

 

He got kicked out of Colombia, he told Washington and others he didn't want to be there.

 

George swallows and begins going through more letters.

 

There's no new information really, just the same emotions built into other pretty words and they break Washington's heart so much he just can't read them anymore.

 

When he is close to the end of the book, another name pops out.


This one from a week ago.

 

Dear Maria,

 

        I too say with a heavy heart that I have missed you as well. Though our company has always been in wrong context, you were still a friend. You still are a friend. Treasured and supported. However I have written this letter not only to inform you that the love you are giving me is well informed and returned but also that I know longer sell my services. I have quit my job as a male escort and found solace in a much more complicated job that requires me to keep my clothes on. Yes, you heard me right, one that requires my clothes to be on. Underneath Mr. George Washington of Revolutionary Industries I am his secretary and most accomplish assistant. And though the work demands rigorous attention and dedication, I have never been more happier in my life, only except for when I was with my mother. I have completed all tasks that haunt me from Colombia and I am now free from chains of confinement within that side of the state of New York. I plan to fix things over with Jefferson and once I'm finished with that, I will be finally on my own. I will raise enough money to buy back my apartment, and I will take John with me. I will go to the love of my life, and express how much love I can now give because I am clean. Washington is a nice man. He is honest, and kind, and patient and without him, I would probably be dead. If you do see him-which you probably will- treat him with respect for he deserves and earns it. I cannot tell him much about myself, or our time at Columbia in fear of my fire touching him or my past spreading on to his. But I can tell him after everything is over and ashes. I cannot help you Maria. I no longer want to be apart of what you and your company do. I wish you good luck, I regret not one second of our time together, despite the mess it has caused.

 

Alexander

 

Washington squints his eyes at it.

 

What?

 

And whose Maria?

 

He looks around at the paper to realize that it has not been sent. At Least not yet.

 

He goes over all the things he’s read:

 

Alexander wa suicidal.

His brother is in jail.

His dad is still alive.

He was kicked out of Colombia, he didn't leave.

He's had this debt with James Reynolds for a long time.

He had a companion named Maria.

 

Washington rubs at his face.

 

He goes to close the book, enough of the words in it, at least for today when another name stands out on the very last page.

 

Dear George Washington,

 

And his heart drops.

 

Alexander has written a letter to him. He begins to think it over in his head. Each letter Washington has read has unlocked something about Alexander. Surely this letter must to. And it's directed towards him which means, Alexander does plan on sending it.

 

He might as well read it.

 

So with his veins running thick with anxiety, he reads.

 

I know writing this letter to you is quite odd considering the fact that I could literally text you this or tell you this in person. However, believe it or not I have a hard time speaking with people in physical form, unless it's about some political/financial debate to which I own it. But when it comes to emotions, and my past. Suddenly these pretty words I've been blessed with fail. And I always did like old fashioned letters, sometimes they are more stronger this way. I've even considered writing this with a quill, but I'm already messy, and ink will make this paper dirty.

 

Washington chuckles at that.

 

I'm here to tell you about myself George, the Alexander you ask for all the time though you're not ready for who he really is. If you're reading this it means I am fixed. I no longer am a threat to you and your knowledge about my pimp or the Reynolds shall not hurt you or anyone you love. But it can also mean that I am dead. And if I am dead, I would like for you not to feel so upset. For I have been dead for a very long time. By being physically gone it means I am finally free. And so are you.

 

Washington stops reading for a second and closes his eyes.

 

Why would Alexander die?

 

Was Jefferson really that dangerous.

 

But nonetheless, you're reading this letter. Which means I'm finally ready to tell you about myself, the life I have lived. But before we begin it, I need you to know that I am extremely grateful for your friendship and guidance. I may not show it but I truly am. You are such a good man Washington. And your kind and easy ears, should not have to listen to my ugly story. But every hero deserves their closing. And this is mine to you.

 

He looks up.

 

He breathes.

 

He reads on.

 

 

We began this story on the Island of st. Croix-

 

The door opens from the living room and he hears Peggy's laugh. Out of nowhere an overwhelming sound of feet hitting the hardwood floor fills the apartment and George is on his feet in seconds.


He rushes out of his room and is met with Alexander's voice in the background.

 

“I have never seen such picky girl in my entire life.” There's no bite behind it, only a teasing giggly tone and Washington would have normally thought it was cute. Except he isn't thinking about it, only the fact that Alexander's voice is getting closer to the hall.

 

He speed walks to the young boy's room, careful not to make much noise.

When he does get there he hears the bathroom door close, signalling Alexander's entrance into it. So quietly and quickly he opens the last draw of the desk, and puts the book back.

He then slips out of the room, and his plan is almost successful until he is in the hall and the bathroom door is swinging open and Washington is forced to connect with it in the forehead.

 

He doesn't know if he made a sound, from the look on Alexander's face he reckon he did.


“Oh God! Sir are you alright?” He asks, helping Washington to the floor. He grabs the older man by the hand and helps him up on his feet.

 

Washington shakes his head, though he can feel his brain moving around and he doesn't think that's a good thing.

 

“Yes, I'm fine.” He puts his hand on his forehead to check for blood or a bump, thankfully nothing is there.

 

“What were you doing?” Alexander asks innocently and Washington is relieved to know that Alexander has no idea what he really was doing.

 

“Waiting for you to come out, I suppose I shouldn't have been standing so close. My apologies.”

Alexander gives a soft sweet smile.

 

“Leave it to you to say sorry for getting hit in the face by a door.”

 

They go silent, the girls voices murmuring in the background, but George isn't paying attention to it.

 

He is only paying attention to the fact that Alexander has not dropped his hand. Washington stares at it, only because he doesn't have enough courage to look at Alexander.

 

The boys hands are rough, just like Washington would have expected. Though they are rough, they're still pale, and tiny. They look even smaller in Washington's own giant ones. The color contrast sends chills down his spine and he takes a moment to listen to Alexander's heavy breathing.

 

“Big hands.”The boy whispers. Then he is squeezing them.

 

“Yea.” Is all Washington can say.

 

Suddenly, Alexander is pulling Washington's hand up to his mouth, and now Washington really can't breathe.

 

The young boy kisses his knuckles, light, soft, and quick.

 

And there's a fiery look in both of their eyes, one in which Washington wouldn't mind burning in.

 

Alexanders lips were soft against his knuckles. And he begins to wonder what they would feel like on his-

 

 

“Uncle G!” Peggy's voice pierces through their intense stares. “Come quick, Angelica's is eating all your oranges without chewing again!”

 

There's a beat of silence before Peggy groans.

 

“And she hit me with one again!”

 

Washington doesn't break the eye contact from Alexander when he speaks.

 

“Just a moment, I'm coming.”

 

And then Alexander is releasing and prying his own fingers from Washington's. He then takes a step back, eyes closed and breathing heavy.

 

“I...I...I can't...just give me a moment.” And then he is shutting the bathroom door again.

 

And Washington can't explain what just happened. He doesn't know whatever that was and why it happened.

 

But he sure would give his right arm for it to happen again.

Notes:

Im sorry if there are grammar mistakes. I honestly keep forgetting to send it to my beta to read it over and then I get so excited to post that I dont want to wait.
Im a mess I know. Forgive me. Please.

Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Notes:

Yikes its been a while. Im really sorry for disappearing I was just really busy. I had my prom and was doing finals and what not because this is my last year in high school. Luckily, my graduation is Monday and after that my only focus will be on work and this fic so hopefully updates can go back to normal. Some new shit happens in this chapter so read carefully, you might be on to the new issue at hand.

Chapter Text

John gives him a hug when they meet again.

 

And though it's quick and light, Washington can still feel the hidden intimacy in it and it makes his stomach churn.

 

“Hi.” John whispers and Washington nods at him in response.

 

Hes finally figured out how to tell him.

Tell him the truth.

 

They take a seat in their usual spot, yet something feels...off.

 

Off in the bad way and he isn't talking about the John situation.

 

Suddenly he feels uncomfortable, vulnerable. His instincts are telling him something is wrong, something isn't right but he just can't focus on it because John is already talking.

 

“Alexander came by the house yesterday.” He says quietly and Washington realizes his voice is hoarse. He doesn't ask why though.

 

“Why was he there?” Washington asks and instead and John shrugs.

 

“I don't really know. He had some meeting with Jefferson in the back.”

 

“Did you see what he looked like?” Washington asks.

 

“Not even a glimpse.” John shakes his head and Washington clears his throat.

 

“How come Alexander can see him and not you?” Washington looks a John and the boy swallows and looks down.

 

“Jefferson likes his privacy. Alexander was useful in more ways than the one I'm useful in. He helped him, he was kinda like what he is to you.”

 

“A friend?”

 

“A secretary.”

The older man looks away.

 

Something isn't right.

 

“He spoke to me.” Johns voice cracks and it goes hoarse again.

 

“What did he say?” Washington raises a brow.

 

“That he misses me. And that he’s sorry for leaving me here. He told me that once everything calms down, he's going to come back for me and buy me out.”

 

“Buy you out?”

 

“It's complicated.” John gives a smile though there's no happiness in it. “I'm kind of in debt here.”

 

“Why are you in debut?” Washington asks boldly and John shrugs.

 

“I use to go to New York University. They expelled me for...interesting forms of protest and beliefs. They only wanted me to study what they studied and I just couldn't do it. Before they expelled me they took away my scholarship, but I still continued to go and racked up quite the check. I had to finish paying 30 grand on my own. I had no money, no job, and I was facing jail time if I didn't pay. I had nowhere else to go. Alexander told me about Jefferson. He payed me, and I was able to get out of debt easy. Turns out I was selling my soul to something far more horrific.”

Washington stares with his jaw open.

 

“Alexander introduced you...to a pimp?” He is shaking his head.

 

It doesn't sound like Alexander.

 

“It wasn't like that. I needed some money and if Alexander bought in recruiters-”

 

“You mean innocent unknowing children.” Washington says angrily.

 

“He would get something for himself to.” John continues.

 

“So he used you to get what he wanted.” Washington looks away in anger.

 

“I told you he had his faults.” John tried to reckon but Washington only shook his head more.

 

“That is wrong.” He said and suddenly John went silent.

 

They both stare at the table silently as some bystanders look on with worried expressions.

 

And Washington just doesn't know what to say.

 

Alexander should've told him.

 

Alexander shouldn't have done it at all.

 

He's lost in his thoughts when he hears John laughing.

 

“I don't get it.” Washington says, confusion laced in his voice and face. ”What's so funny?”

 

John continues to chuckle lightly. He closes his eyes, a smile still on his face.

 

“It's just….I...you're still going to help him aren't you?” He looks at Washington and Washington looks back down again.

 

“Thought so.” John says and he's up and leaving. Washington follows soon after.

 

“I know it's hard to understand.” He says, the bell from the door ringing loud on his exit.

 

“It's not hard to understand George. You have unconditional love for him, which is fine.”

 

“Love is a strong word for someone you met two months ago.” Washington tries but John is laughing again.

 

“And that's what makes it so amazing to watch.”

 

They stand in silence again, snow covering the ground and the night sky painting the scenery around them.

 

“I don't know what to think about it.” Washington says looking down. “Good people do bad things sometimes.”

 

“And bad people can trick good people sometimes George.” And John sounds tired, he sounds tired and sad and Washington really doesn't know what to do.

 

“Well.” John says and his eyes are closed. “I'm not giving up on you. You're going to see that Alexander isn't really what you think and when you do, I'm gonna be right here.”

 

“You don't really sound like his best friend.” Washington says, annoyance clearly in his voice.

 

“But I am. And that's what makes me so honest.” John zips up his coat and begins his journey home.

 

“New York University on a full scholarship. I was amazing.” He says silently his back still turned away from Washington.

 

“You're very well educated. Smart.” Washington says.

 

“I was.” Comes John.

 

“You still are.” Washington tries again.

 

“No. Not anymore. Because if I was. I wouldn't be here.”

 

He stops moving and Washington thinks he can hear him cry but he isn't sure.

 

“I should've stayed in South Carolina.”

 

He thinks of Alexander.

 

I should've stayed in the snow.

 

“Some of these things happen for a reason John. And I'm not talking about all this. I'm talking about you leaving the University.”

 

“Leaving that university was the best thing I ever did. It's who I left with, that was the worst.”

 

“Alexander?”

 

“That wasn't Alexander. Alexander isn't here. He left a long time ago. Way before you met him that night.”

 

“I'm sorry John. But he's my friend. And I care for him deeply. Just like I care for you.”

 

“Right. George Washington. The kind caring man who understands.”

 

Washington remains silent.

 

“You know what happens to skin in fire?” He asks and Washington shifts.

 

“It burns.”

 

“Maybe so.” John shrugs and he begins his walk towards Brooklyn street.

 

“Guess we'll find out.”

 

__________________________________________________________

 

“I love it!” Peggy screams twirling around in her cotillion gown.

 

“It's...just...so…” Eliza looks on with a horrid and uncomfortable look on her face.

 

“Amazing!” Screams Angelica as she stands and smiles at her little sister.

 

Washington just chuckles along.

 

“At first I wasn't sure of it but now that it's on your body. Peggy you look absolutely stunning.” She gives her sister a sweet smile and Peggy beams in response.

 

“I suppose you do look very lovely. Even if the dress is that dress.” Eliza says through gritted teeth and they all shake their heads at her.

 

Alexander remains silent on the couch while they talk.

 

And Washington notices.

 

Later, when everyone goes home Alexander stays behind.

 

“Are you alright?” Washington asks and Alexander shrugs.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“You don't seem fine.”

 

“Ok then I don't seem fine.” He snaps and it takes Washington back.

 

He raises an eyebrow at the boy and Alexander avoids his eyes.

 

“What's wrong.” Washington asks and Alexander shakes his head.

 

“It's nothing. I'm handling it.”

 

Washington doesn't ask what he means by that.

 

He doesn't have the energy to.

 

______________________________________________


Lafayette comes into his room the next morning.

 

“Hello my friend.” He says cautiously, tiptoeing into Washington's office.

 

And for a moment Washington relaxes at the sound of his voice and goes to reply, except he's remembering that night. The one in which Lafayette showed his true opinions of George.

 

He stays silent.

 

Lafayette remains silent as well, but he doesn't leave, instead takes a seat on the couch.

 

Another few beats of silence goes by and suddenly he is speaking.

 

“I'm sorry. About what I said. I was afraid and panicked and I let my worst judgment get the best of me. But George you must know, I never truly thought about it like that. You have to believe me I really was in a bad mindset.”


Washington swallows.

 

“Martha has been the only person I ever truly loved and gave myself to.”

 

“And that's why I was so upset when I thought about you and Alexander. I just couldn't believe it. George I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

 

He stills.

 

Lafayette has always been his best friend. There was never anyone that could read him so perfectly. There was never anyone who had the right things to say at the right time always.

 

There never will be anyone.

 

“I would never do that.” Washington says and Laf laughs.

 

“And I will never doubt it again.”

 

They go silent again.

 

“It's just. You're always so kind. So willing. I thought for a split second that maybe it was a sham.”

 

“Why did you think that?”

 

“I look at Alexander, I see the way he works and I come to the conclusion. This boy is both better and worse than I expected. And I know you like to fix things, fix people. Your caring nature makes you vulnerable to attack. I thought Alexander got to you. I thought he broke you.”

 

“No one will ever break me.”

 

“Guess we will have to wait and see.”

 

He thinks of John.

 

Guess we'll find out.

 

“I guess so.”

 

“So.” Lafayette claps his hands and stands up adjusting his red suit. “Are we friends again? Old men trying to still look young.”

 

“I am young.” Washington stands and suddenly he feels 10 pounds lighter. “You're the one that's old as dirt.”

 

“Lies my friend. Stop with the lies. I'm 22.”

 

Lafayette wiggles to the door as Washington chuckles on. When Washington meets at the door and they shake hands, but after a moment they hug.

 

“Theres my little wolf. Smelling like coffee and Dior cologne.”

 

Washington makes a face and returns to his desk. Lafayette opens the door.

 

And before he leaves out he looks back at Washington, gives him a smile.

 

“I will see you later.”

 

And he is gone.

 

Washington takes a seat and goes back to work, suddenly feeling a lot better.

 

Alexander walks in.

 

“I'm assuming you and your french boyfriend are back together.” He says unimpressed pointing to the hall.

 

“Yes, we have figured things out and are friends if that's what you mean.” Washington shakes his head.

 

Alexander takes a seat.

 

“That's good. I can't imagine the two of you not being friends. You're both too kind.”

 

“You say this of him even after the things he said about you?” Alexander shrugs.

 

“He didn't know the truth. He went off of what he seen. It happens to the best of us.” Alexander says and Washington raises an eyebrow.

 

“Really? You, forgiving? That's unheard of.” And the young boy laughs.

 

“I suppose so. But I've been changing lately. For the better I hope.”

 

“You have.” Replies Washington. He thinks back to the news John told him.

 

“Could I ask you something?” He asks and Alexander tilts his head.

 

“What?”

 

“Can good people do bad things?”

 

It's goes silent and at first Washington thinks he's said too much.

 

“Good people can do bad things. But bad people can also do good things.” He says simply.

 

“Would you consider yourself bad or good?” Washington asks and he can see Alexander's grip on the couch tighten.

 

“I would consider myself both.”

And no, he won't stop asking questions, not when he's so close.

 

“And what makes you bad?” Washington asks and they're staring at eachother now, tension deep in their irises.

 

“I've aided a horrible man in the destruction of innocent kids.”

 

And Washington knows he's talking about John. He's talking about John and bringing him into the whorehouse for his own gain. Making Jefferson powerful.

 

Washington relaxes a little and looks away to escape the growing heat between the two. But when he looks back at Alexander the boy is still just as intense.

 

“You've gotten over the hard part. Was that not the reason you are half of a bad person?” He asks and Alexander shakes his head.

 

“One of the reasons yes, but I'm afraid asking me why I'm a bad person was not the hard part.”

 

Washington stays silent.

 

“Asking us what we did wrong isn't what humans have a hard time with. We know why we are horrible. We know why we are bad. It's why we are good is the hard part. It's why we should be forgiven. That's hardest.” Alexander looks down

 

“Then why are you a good person Alexander?” Washington swallows. He waits for the answer as he stares at the young boy that will soon provide it.

 

Alexander's body looks empty, it looks afraid. It looks as if the past has laid itself upon his skin and he can no longer hide from it. His mouth is slightly parted almost as if the boy is going to say something. Answer the question.

 

But Washington isn't stupid.

 

He's been in this situation too many times to count.

 

He knows Alexander won't share anything he doesn't want to share, and if he did want to answer the question, he would have answered it a long time ago.

 

So instead Washington waits and see what excuse Alexander will use to get out of this predicament.

 

And as if on cue, the secretary phone is ringing and Alexander is leaving to pick it up.

 

And maybe Washington should be mad and upset and worried. But he just can't seem to be any of those.

 

Maybe he's a little relieved.

 

Because yeah Alexander is right, maybe it's not the reasons that make you bad that are so hard to say. Maybe it's the reasons you're good.

 

And maybe Washington isn't ready to hear Alexander's reasons on why he is a good person.

 

Because maybe Alexander doesn't have any.

Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Notes:

So sorry this chapter is so damn long. Just stay strong while reading it, its a lot I know. Hopefully you enjoy the ending. I know I did.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He couldn't find the book when he checked Alexander's room again.

 

Instead of it being in the spot he first found it, the book of letters disappeared and no matter where Washington looked, it was nowhere to be found.

 

This worried him a great deal.

 

For one that meant Alexander could have known that Washington read or was on to it at least. He moved the book for privacy and to keep Washington from the truth. He would also be upset with the older man for going through it in the first place.

 

But Alexander would definitely confront him the moment he found out of it, and he has done nothing about it. So Washington cancels it out.

 

And yes Alexander has been moody lately but not angry and explosive like Washington would have imagined he would be if someone of Washington's position found out all of his secrets and past.

 

He goes to the other conclusion.

 

Alexander sent the letters off to their respectable receivers.

 

His father.

 

His mother.

 

Maria Reynolds.

 

Washington himself.

 

But he has yet to get any letter so he thinks that maybe Alexander isn't done with his.

 

He feels all the more worried about it.

 

But whatever the case may be. He hasn't gotten the letter.

 

He can't find the book.

 

He tries to move on from it, but the uneasy feeling sits low in Washington's stomach and it's hard to ignore.

 

His brain continues to twist and turn around this predicament as he sits on the sofa, staring at the wall wondering when his stomach will stop dropping, wondering when he will breathe again.

 

The door opens and Alexander steps in with a scarf wrapped around his face with only his eyes and nose poking through.

 

“It's cold as shit outside.” He says, his voice a muffled noise underneath all the cloth and wool.

 

“What did I say about cursing?” George says, a light smile on his lips. He turns his head in the opposite direction to hide it.

 

“That I shouldn't do it because it isn't very attractive. And I Say fuck off. I know dad.” Washington can practically feel the boy's eye roll.

 

He chuckles and Alexander squirms.

 

“Now help me out of this stuff. I can't move.”

 

Washington stands, rolling up his sleeves as he makes his way to the tiny wrapped up boy at the door.

 

At first it doesn't look that complicated. Once Washington gets the first coat of he then sees all the layers of jackets and gloves and scarves.

 

“....Why did you put so many layers on?...Did you honestly think the coat wouldn't be enough?” Washington mumbles as he struggles with a sweater over Alex’s head.

 

“I don't know! I figured going in and out of stores for Christmas shopping would take a toll on me. You know I have a horrible immune system. I was being proactive.”

 

“You were being ridiculous.” Washington says and then he is pulling the wrong hood from the wrong hoodie and Alexander is falling back on him.

 

From the new abrupt weight, Washington stumbles into the door and they're both sliding to the floor.

 

Awkward beats of silence fill the room as Alexander remains against Washington and Washington remains pressed against the door.

 

And he doesn't know what to do, he figures Alexander doesn't know what to do either.

 

“Why are you always falling?” Washington asks to Alexander and then the boy is laughing, his shoulders moving through the layers and sending vibrations to Washington's chest.

 

The older man shakes his head and uses his arms to lift himself up. Once he's on his feet he picks Alex up by the underarms, the young boy still laughing.

“Why are you always there to pick me up?” Alex's asks once Washington gets him on his feet.

 

“Because I like to clean up mess I suppose.” He says taking the scarf off of Alexander's face.

 

And suddenly his eyes see nothing but the young boys lips. The overwhelming want to kiss Alexander fills Washington's senses and he tries to calm himself but Alexander is moving closer and whispering.

 

“Maybe I just like to make them.” He looks in Washington's eyes and everything gets fuzzy.

 

Washington takes a step back.

 

“Did you find a suit for the ball tonight?” He asks, noticing the way his voice squeaks a little.

 

Alexanders slick smile fades and he shakes his head, his eyes suddenly going back to normal.

 

“Uh, no. Sorry to say I won't be attending.” He looks at the ground while he says this.

 

“Why not?” Washington raises an eyebrow.

 

“Balls aren't really my thing.” He shrugs off the last layer of clothing he has. And Washington shakes his head.

 

“Suit yourself. You're missing out. The cotillion ball is a great event. Kinder, than you would expect.”

 

Alexander shakes his head.

 

“Of course they would be kind to you. It's you. ” Alexander picks up the pile of clothing he recently shedded and makes his way to the kitchen.

 

Washington follows.

 

“Hey, you're forgetting that once upon a time I wasn't George Washington.” He says taking a seat at the island.

 

“Oh George. You were always George Washington, it's just no one knew you.”

 

Alexander throws all his stuff in the closet and shuts the door back pressed against it breathing heavy.

 

“I really think you would enjoy it.” Washington finally says and Alexander laughs.

 

“I know my own mind George. I wouldn't like it at all. I'll sit this one out.” He turns to Washington and gives him a sweet smile. “Don't miss me too much.”

 

Washington remains silent.

 

“If you were Christmas shopping, where are your bags?” Washington asks after a few beats of silence.

 

“I left them down stairs with one of the bell boys. They're too iconic to be seen by anyone until Christmas.”

 

Washington nods.

 

He himself have been shopping and got pretty much everything for the girls and Lafayette and Adrienne but he has come up missing when it comes to Alexander.

 

He still has no idea what he should get him.

 

“Well I'm off.” He says, putting on only a coat this time.

 

“Where are you going?” Washington tries to ask keeping the new anxiety from his voice.

 

“John and I are going to see a movie and grab a bite. It's been a long time since we have had a proper conversation. And now that I have money, we could actually go out to some place other than the coffee shop.”

 

Washington chuckles.

 

“I suppose that does sound quite enjoying.”

 

“More enjoying than an entire night of snobs and teenage girls acting like monsters because their flowers don't match their gloves?” Alexander's slick smile returns.

 

“Maybe.” Washington nods. “Well, how about at the end of the night we return home and discuss?”

 

“You're on.” Alexander smiles.

 

And a moment later Washington is left with nothing but silence and an empty room.

 

He gets his laptop out.

 

______________________________________

 

He stares at the laptop screen for a good five minutes before typing.

 

Maria Reynolds

 

He is then met with the overwhelming links to facebook accounts and twitter's.

 

Maria Reynolds-Plainfield Illinois

 

Well that can't be right.

 

He types in the search engine once more.

 

Maria Reynolds New York

 

He clicks on the first link.

 

Though it isn't about Maria, but her husband.

 

James Reynolds

Executive Vice President and teacher for Finance and Information Technology

 

It continues on to tell about his life and education and then the last sentence tells about his wife.

 

His wife, Maria Reynolds contributes greatly with fundraising and student organizations.

 

He looks at the source for the site and his pulse speeds up when he sees that it's the Columbia University website. Not only was James a teacher, but Maria also played a great deal in the student's life. Students like Alexander, who would be studying finance.

 

They all had to have met here but when did it turn into owing money?

 

He closes the laptop.

 

Then he opens it back up.

 

James Reynolds New York

 

He finds a picture of a light man with a beard and a flood of recognition over takes him.

 

He has met the man before.

 

He goes to dig for more information but the alarm on his phone, signaling it's time to start getting read for the ball tonight goes off.

 

Washington closes the laptop.

 

For good this time.

 

He knew James Reynolds alright.

He begins to get ready.

 

__________________________________________________

 

The Cotillion was much more different than what Washington remembered it to be.

 

He decided it was for the best.

 

Back in the day, the ladies rarely spoke unless spoken to, guided by the hand of their date. Their dress white and fluffy, plain and simple.

 

This certainly was not that cotillion.

 

Not only were the young girls speaking, but they were encouraged to talk, to share their dreams. And Washington didn't remember a lot from his own participation in his cotillion but he definitely remembers the dreams being not as complex as the ones before him.

 

Housewives and teachers. Secretaries and models turned into doctors and journalists. Lawyers and professional race car drivers.

 

It shocked him a great deal.

 

“Welcome to the twenty first century, Mr. Washington.” Angelica rolled her eyes when Washington told her this. “Woman no longer have to sit in the backseat.”

 

“I'm very glad.” Replies Washington, nodding as a salutation to passing acquaintances. “Your sister would have been a laughing stock were she at the ball I attended.”

“My sister will be a laughing stock wherever she goes. And she cares not one ounce of it. That's what makes her so different.”

“You sound so sure.” Washington replies a bit bewildered. He tries to focus on Angelica rather than the continuous strings of violins or the gold that covers the entire room.

 

They've also changed the decor.

 

Everything is either gold, white,or pink.

 

Except for Peggy that is.

 

Washington looks back at Angelica.

 

The girl is in her own gown. A long simple white dress with a deep v and no back. She added a pink belt around the waist and pink gloves to match. Washington also notices the tiny pink flowers littered in the girl's hair and his stomach drops.

 

“Your mother did the same thing at her cotillion.” He says quietly and Angelica's head snaps in his direction.

 

“Did what?” She asks calmly, though Washington can hear the desperation in her voice.

 

“Put little flowers in her hair. She said it made it look like she was playing in the garden outside the ballroom and realized the ball started and ran in. She always wanted to look as effortless as possible.” Washington tells her and Angelica smiles.

 

“She did.”

 

“You look very beautiful.” Washington doesn't look at her when he says this. Instead he looks awkwardly out at the crowd of rich people dressed in pearls and silk.

 

Angelica laughs.

 

“Thank you George. You look quite sharp yourself.”

 

Washington nods but says nothing else.

 

“She's ready!” Screams Eliza once Washington and Angelica can see her.

 

Washington notes that Eliza looks stunning as well.

 

More conservative than her older sister, the middle child models a long sleeve blue silk dress that turns almost silver against the light. Her hair is half up, half down and while she doesn't have any tiny flowers in her hair, she has a big one all the way in the back.  She also wears a necklace with a small tiny diamond around her neck and Washington again feels something.

 

Her mother wore a tiny necklace around her neck at her cotillion.

 

But Washington also feels something else.

 

“Blue.” Washington says once she meets them near the exit of the ballroom. He takes a moment and finally realizes that Eliza is always wearing blue.

 

He thinks of Alexander.

 

Blue, with blue skies and blue dresses and blue cotton candy. Crystal blue water, so translucent you can see yourself perfectly. You can see what you are, what you want and what you are doing. Clean. Blue.

 

He wondered if that's why Eliza always wore the color.

 

“Why are you always wearing blue?” He raises a brow and Angelica snickers.

 

“I asks the same thing to myself as well.” She blushes and pulls a strand of hair behind her ear.

 

“I'm only kidding Elizabeth. You look stunning. You both do.”

 

The girls smile at him.

 

“OH!” Eliza squeaks. “I forgot to give Peggy her gloves. I'll be right back!” And then she is hopping away, her heels clacking against the marble floor.

 

“She really knows what she’s doing then yea?” Washington chuckles at the sight of Eliza shimming through the crowds of people.

 

“Yea.” Angelica has something of a smile on her face. “Our mother trained her in this. In hopes that Eliza would be doing this with her own daughter. All of our daughters actually.”

 

Washington nods.

 

“I don't think she intended for Eliza to be doing this with Peggy though.” Angelica says after a few moments of silence.

 

Washington clears his throat.

 

“I don't think any of us did.”

 

And everything feels a little slow. Out of the moment. With this gigantic room of gold and champagne, their sad vulnerable moment doesn't feel like it belongs.

 

“I'm sure she's proud of Eliza nonetheless.” Washington tries but he already knows it too late.

 

For he caught a glimpse of Angelica's weak side. He seen her sadness for a moment. He has seen her vulnerable.

 

“Yes. she is.” Angelica nods and stands straighter. “Come on, we need to take our seats.”

 

They makes their way to a table lined with gold dishes and pretty gold flowers at the center of it. Pink napkins and expensive white china plates cover most of the table.

 

Lafayette and Adrienne are already seated.

 

“Well, this should be entertaining. ” Angelica rolls her eyes as Lafayette stands to pull out her seat.

 

“It's nice to see you again Ms. Schuyler. I hope you know that I am a changed man since our last encounter. Look! I'm even wearing a black suit!”

 

That does nothing for Angelica still has an unimpressed face when she sits.

 

The last time Angelica and Lafayette were together at a party was Angelica's sweet sixteen, he ended up having too many rounds at the mini bar and passed out at the desserts table, but not before making an entire seen on the dance floor. He also broke the speaker but Washington can't go along time without speaking about it, or he begins to laugh.

 

He chuckles at the two.

 

“Fire and water these two.” Hes says to Adrienne who nods in response. Though she has lived with Laf all these years in America she's never quite learned the language never had a good reason to.

 

They all make small talk, watching other families take their seats. Talking about the clothes and makeup and accessories. They smile for photos and release statements and for a few minutes things go like that.

 

It's when Eliza returns and the horns begin to play do they focus all their attention on the ivory white grand staircase at the back of the room.

 

One by one a name is called followed by some facts and social class. There was Abigail Adams, John adams eldest daughter, and her strong belief of Christianity that made her who she was, James Monroe’s daughter, Maria wanted to be a pilot which George found quite interesting considering the fact that her father hated planes.

 

But after a while, Washington's interest only dulled with the readings of the names and though each girl looked breathtakingly beautiful,they just couldn't compare with Peggy.

 

And when Washington could feel his skin tightening with boredom and see the way Lafayette squirmed with growing impatience, Peggy's name was finally called.

 

“Margarita Schuyler” The voice calls over and suddenly George can't breathe.

 

She sits at the top of the staircase in yellow gown similar to the iconic one in Beauty and the Beast. Her hair, usually pulled back into a curly ponytail sits wild, framing her face with a gold leaf crown on top. And though she is wearing a whole lot of makeup, Washington can still see the little girl so many years back.

 

It makes him feel something, he just doesn't know what.

 

“Margarita Schuyler is being lead by the hand of John Madison. She is the daughter of US senator Philip Schuyler and Catherine Van Rensselaer. Margarita wants to be a botanist.” The voice reads and Washington stands to get a better view of her.

 

She makes her way down the staircase, Madison's son at her side and she looks so glowing and happy, Washington nearly fell back. Her yellow dress explodes through the air, a loud explosion of color and beauty.

 

And there are murmurs everywhere. Some on how beautiful Peggy looks and some on how she got away with wearing a yellow dress to her own cotillion but Washington isn't focusing on them too much.

 

“Oh.” He says and he can hear Angelica laugh.

 

“Oh. Indeed. She looks absolutely gorgeous. You did a wonderful job Eliza.” She puts a hand on her sister's shoulder and Eliza wipes away a few tears before hugging her.

 

“And you do a wonderful job raising her.” She says and for the second time in his life, Washington can see the vulnerable side of Angelica as she looks into her sister's eyes with a small smile and glassy stare.

 

He feels like he is intruding.

 

Lafayette feels the same.

 

“Should we give you two a minute?” He asks and normally it would be a joke but George can tell he’s being very serious.

 

The two girls look at him and then back at each other grabbing each other's hands and laughing.

 

“No. We are just fine.” Angelica says and Eliza nods.

 

So they all take a seat, eyes roaming over to where Peggy stands with her head held high as the voice continues to call out names.

 

_________________________________________________

 

The ball was going great.

 

Everyone had a chance to dance with Peggy and the food was nice. (Adrienne thought it was average and of course her husband agreed but still snuck the biscuits when his wife wasn't looking) and everyone drank.



But suddenly the voice calls for a father daughter dance and Washington can feel his heart drop.

 

Phillip didn't show up. Not that George was surprised but still. Damn.

 

“Oh no.” Angelica whispers and Washington looks over to see the growing panic and embarrassment in Peggy’s eyes.

 

“Once again, calling all debutantes and their fathers to the dance floor.” The voice claims and Washington stomach churns as he stands.

 

He makes his way over to Peggy, not looking at anyone but her on his journey there and when he does get there he nods.

 

“I suppose I'm not the best substitution. But then again nothing can beat the original.” He says nervously and the worry and fear drift from her face, replaced by a smile so bright Washington nearly squints.

 

“There isn't a substitution for the original, no you're right. But Uncle G you are no substitution, but in fact an original.”

 

It's when Peggy's in his arms that he can breathe.

 

“You really do look lovely.” He looks at her and she in exchange looks at the ground.

 

“Thank you.” She says quietly and Washington raises a brow.

 

“Everything alright?” He asks, and she shakes her head.

 

“I wish my parents were here. I always imagined mom running around screaming like a maniac. Not Eliza. And I always imagined stepping on my dad's shoes to gain some height while we danced. Not yours. No offense.” She says.

 

Washington shakes his head.

 

“None taken. I understand. I miss them too.”

 

“I tried to tell my father to come but, he wouldn't even answer his phone.” She says and her voice cracks at the end and Washington panics.

 

“No. No it isn't like that, he doesn't hate you. He doesn't hate any of you. It's just. It's just your father loved your mother very much. More than his ownself I reckon. And you're all so much like her. Angelica and her ideas and strong willed character and opinions. Eliza and her sweetheart and kind nature.-”

 

“And what about me?” Peggy asks and she looks at George finally and her eyes are watery. “I'm not as smart as Angelica or as kind as Eliza, how am I like my mother? Why can't dad look at me?”

 

And Washington looks at Peggy and suddenly he's overwhelmed with flashbacks of his own cotillion. When a little girl broke the rules, and wore a red dress to an all white cotillion, with wild hair and a lot of makeup that only made her look like she did when she was 14.

 

“Peggy, out of all your sisters, you're the only one who looks exactly like her.” Washington says and Peggy blinks.

 

“Really?” She asks and Washington nods.

 

“I almost forgot that she wore hair wild like yours, yes she had tiny pink flowers that your older sister has in her hair. And a tiny diamond necklace just like Eliza. But Peggy. Gosh you look just like her. You haven't realised?” Washington asks and the girl looks away.

 

“No, sometimes I think I'm forgetting what she looks like.” Peggy says and Washington holds her tight.

 

“You will never forget her Peggy. Just like your father will never forget you.”

 

And Peggy hugs him tight.

 

And he hugs her back, the scent of roses engulfing his nostrils.

 

They don't really dance, but rock back and forth until Angelica clears her throat.

 

“Our turn.” She's motioning over to her and Eliza and Washington steps back.

 

“Of course” he smiles and before he walks away, all three girls smother him with a giant hug. He stumbles back from the weight but hugs them.

 

“Oh I wish Alexander was here as well.” Peggy laughs as she grabs her sister's hands and Eliza shrugs.

 

“He's not really a party person.” She says with a smile though George can see a bit of disappointment poking through.

 

He wraps the girls up for another hug and makes his way back to the table.

 

“That moment was so sweet. I have a cavity now.” Lafayette mocks and Adrienne hits him on the shoulder.

 

“Merci. ” Washington smirks and Lafayette rolls his eyes.

 

They all talk for a while, watching the girls spin around wildly on the dance floor, ignoring all the disgusted sneers of the snobs.

 

“Gentlemen, Adrienne.” James Madison greets with a smile and Washington stands to shake his hand noting a man standing with him.

 

Cette salope.” Lafayette says under his breath and Washington looks at him in horror while Adrienne slaps him again.

 

“I'll choose to ignore that.” Madison's says unscathed and he looks back at Washington. “Peggy looks absolutely stunning.” He says and Washington notices the man next to him nod in agreement.

 

“She does, I'm very proud. She goes quite well with your boy.” Washington replies and Madison laughs.

 

“He doesn't deserve it, besides, Schuyler's are way too superior for the good ole Madisons.”

 

They all laugh and Madison makes a noise.

 

“Where are my manners. I'd like to introduce you two.” he says motioning to Washington and the man at his side.

 

“Ofcoure.” Washington puts his glass down. “George Washington, nice to make your acquaintance.” He says politely and the man shakes his hand. A firm and controlling grip and Washington suddenly feels uncomfortable.

 

“A pleasure to make yours as well.” The man says with a slick smile and perfect teeth.

 

“I'm Thomas Jefferson.”

Notes:

*Sings* Thomas Jefferson's coming hooome.

Chapter 19: Chapter 19

Notes:

Hope you enjoy. This is another one of my favorite chapters!

Chapter Text

“I've met him.”

 

They sit at their usual spot in the coffee shop.

 

John looks up from his glass of water (he’s been getting his own lately) and quirks an eyebrow. “Jefferson?”

 

Washington shakes his head.

 

“Where? How?” John looks suspicious and Washington swallows.

 

“At the ball. James Madison introduced me to a man named Thomas Jefferson, a business man from Virginia. Sounds familiar?” He keeps his voice low, steady.

 

Something still doesn't feel right. He just doesn't know what.

 

The vulnerable feeling he gets in his stomach has intensified lately. And it seems to get worse these days.

 

He looks around at the people in the shop. None of them seeming to be paying attention to him and John but he just can't help but to feel like someone is watching.

 

But John is clearing his throat and Washington loses focus.

 

John shakes his head.

 

“He doesn't know who you are, of course he would be so free with you.” John also keeps his voice low as well.

 

“Maybe.” Washington pushes his water away from himself.

 

“Well what are you going to do? I mean it's not like you could point at him and scream ‘crazy drug dealer and pimp’ at least I wouldn't recommend.” John shrugs and Washington scoffs.

 

“I think you're right about that. I don't know yet. I'm hoping once he befriends me a little more I'll be able to come out with the truth and buy out yours and Alexander's contracts.” He swallows and John stares at him.

 

“You don't have to do that.” He says to Washington but the man shakes his head.

 

“I don't have to. But I want to. You've helped me through this all. I know you want to get away from him fast and safe.”

 

“I do.” John rubs his face, he's been looking more tired lately.

 

“But people in my position, we don't get out safe.”

 

Washington tries not to let his stomach drop at that.

 

“I promise I'll get you out John.” Washington takes his hand gently and John stares at them.” I swear on it.” He says voice stern and John smiles.

 

He takes Washington's hand to his mouth and kisses it.

 

It obviously doesn't feel as lovely as when Alexander kissed it, but Washington supposes it does feel good.

 

It does.

 

After some more brainstorming, the two call it a night.

 

“Just call me if you need me.” Washington says seriously and John laughs.

 

“You say this to me everynight George. I know. I will.”

 

Before Washington can reply, he bumps into a woman while trying to get out of the door.

 

“Oh. My apologies.” He says politely but the woman doesn't even acknowledge or stop.

 

She does her best to squeeze out of the door between Washington and John and hurries down the street, her head low in her scarf.

 

Washington looks at John with an eyebrow quirked up and the boy shrugs.

 

“New Yorkers.” He simply says and Washington nods.

 

John takes his hand one last time before they separate.

 

“Have you changed your mind yet?” He asks and even Washington can't help but to crack a small smile.

 

“It's still the same answer John.”

 

And the boy shrugs.

 

“Well I'm still here waiting on you.” He rubs his finger across Washington's knuckles.

And now it's Washington's time to repeat.

 

“You say this to me everynight John. I know. You will.”

 

John smiles at him but it's still broken and he tries to not let the guilt drown him as he lets go.

 

They go home after that.

 

Washington to uptown New York, John Laurens back to Brooklyn street, where the moon doesn't quite light up the streets like it does to the rest of the city of New York.

 

When Washington does get home he is met with Alexander sitting hunched over on the couch.

 

The apartment feels like ice and Washington can even see his breath in puffs of smoke as he breathes.

 

Alexander is bare footed and with nothing but sweatpants and a thin tee shirt on, his hair wild and messy framing his pale face.

 

“Jesus Alexander!” Washington spits at the bitter cold and moves quickly to the thermostat and turns the heat all the way up.

 

Alexander remains silent and staring at the ground.

 

Washington makes his way to the boy, taking off his coat and putting it around him. He kneels down, placing his hand on the boys freezing face.

 

“Alexander?” He questions and the boy spits out a laugh.

 

“Why must you always call me by my entire first name?” he asks and his voice, usually strong and steady explodes through the freezing air in nothing but a weak sound and stuttering mess.

 

“What?” Washington asks.

 

Alexander doesn't repeat himself.

 

Instead he pulls the coat tighter across his frame.

 

“Why does your coat always smell like coffee and that cologne? Ya know, the one that's too expensive for what it really is worth?”

 

Then Washington smells the vodka.

 

“Alexander how much have you been drinking?” Washington asks seriously. He picks the boy up bridal style and carries him to his room.

 

Alexander laughs.

 

“George Washington, the kind, caring, forgiving man, who always understands.” He wraps his arms around Washington's neck. The older man tries to focus.

 

“Why were you drinking Alexander?” Washington asks and he goes to put the young boy down on the his bed but Alexander is squirming and making a whining noise.

 

“No! Please! I need to take a shower! Help me bathe!” Alexander scurries back into Washington's arms and the man's mouth drops open.

 

What's happening?

 

“Alexander please! You need to lay down before you get sick.” He tries to pry the young boys fingers from his neck but it does no good.

 

“Please George.” Alexander whispers into his shoulder and Washington sighs.

 

He picks the boy back up and carries him to the bathroom.

 

Once there, he sets the boy on the toilet seat and begins undressing him.

 

Washington finds it harder to breathe each time another piece of skin is revealed.

 

Alexander is still talking, blurred words and broken sentences spill out his mouth and Washington always listens to what the boy has to say.

 

Even now.

 

“Why do you always wear suits? I've only seen you not wear a suit twice since the time I met you. Why does George Washington always need to be in a suit?”

 

Washington doesn't answer.

 

So Alexander keeps going.

 

“Why are your eyebrows so bushy? Why does your skin feel so rough?”

And Washington simply replies with an I don't know.

 

When Alexander is finally naked, Washington turns on the shower.

 

“NO! I WANT TO TAKE A BATH!” He whines and Washington turns around to stare at him with an eyebrow raised.

 

“But...you said shower.” Now Washington can feel his own self whining. He shakes his head to regain his sanity and speaks.

 

“Alexander, I really don't think it's best for you to take a bath right now.” He closes his eyes and squeezes them together as he says this.

 

Suddenly, he hears the sound of tiny dangling bells and looks towards the door to find Mickey purring in.

 

She doesn't look very happy though.

 

“Sorry.” Washington says to her and in response the cat just blinks at him.

 

Clean him please. So he can shut up.

 

So Washington does.

 

He runs the bath extremely hot and puts the boy in the tub. All the while the black cat sits on the edge and watches.

 

Alexander continues to ask questions, while Washington cleans him and Washington does his best to answer them. Mickey just licks her paw.

 

Once he's done, Washington turns the tub off and lets Alexander sit there. He gets up and dries off his own hands while both the boy and the cat stare at him with big doey watery eyes.

 

He deals with the cat first.

 

“Alright, go back to bed nothing to see here.” He shooes at the cat and she gives him another bored look.

 

“Mickey.” Washington warns and the cat looks at Alexander and then gets up.

 

She rubs against Washington's leg, and jogs out of the bathroom.

 

Alexander laughs.

 

“Why are you so good with cats?” He asks and Washington looks at him and he can't help but to feel a little tired.

 

Alexander has a smile on his pale face, his hair wet and wild sticks to his face and shoulders.

 

“I don't know.” Washington says again and Alexander swallows and looks away.

 

They go silent. Nothing but the sounds of the outside city, the water in the tub, and the occasional sound of a tiny bell in the distance.

 

Alexander speaks.

 

“Why are you always there to pick me up?”

 

Washington doesn't answer.

 

“And why do I always let you?”

 

And he looks at Washington, a combination of yesterday's and tears spilling down his face.

 

“Why are you so perfect?” Alexander cries and Washington kneels down next to the tub.

 

“Alexan-Alex please.” Washington corrects and the boy spits out a laugh.

 

“Why are you trying to help me?” He shakes his head and reaches for Washington's neck.

 

Their faces get closer and closer until there is no space left between them and Alexander's lips are on his.

 

And it's a kiss.

 

And isn't a kiss.

 

It's a soft, tiny touch of skin. That cools the voices in Washington's head for a moment. A quick and cooling taste of vodka and skin.

 

But it's also a ball of fire and electricity, stinging his lips. Setting him on fire, electrocuting his entire body.

 

It hurts.

 

It's feels amazing.

 

Whatever it is, something in Washington has finally been released.

 

They sit there like that until Alexander is ready to go.

 

He pulls his lips away from Washington and sets his forehead against the mans.

 

“Stop.” He closes his eyes. “Please just stop George.” And he's crying again. He squirms out of the tub and drapes himself over Washington, naked and wet.

 

Washington closes his mouth from all the shock and wraps his arms around Alexander.

 

He doesn't know what else to do.

 

“Please.” Alexander begs and he only cries harder. “George don't do this. Don't be the hero.”

 

And he can feel his heart drop. He can feel the world crack open, the hot molten lava pouring onto his skin, exposing his flesh, his old broken memories.

 

Memories of his wife.

 

When he was leaving for the war. A month after their wedding.

 

Underneath that telephone pole.

 

You come back here and come home with me. Just us and everything will be alright. And everything will go back to our normal. Just make sure you come back here George. Don't be the hero. I need you here.

 

And somehow Washington feels like he's been in this place before.

 

He's leaving for the war. A month or so after meeting Alexander.

 

Underneath the bathroom lights.

 

And Alex is telling him not to be the hero.

 

He can't always be the hero.

 

“Don't do it George.” Alexander cries one last time and Washington remains quiet.

 

They sit there like that. Tangled together, wet. One a naked drunk mess, and the other a dressed sober mess.

 

Washington reaches up and strokes Alexander's hair. And after a while the boy's breathing eases. And he falls asleep.

 

And Washington swallows.

 

He can not be what he is.

 

He can not miss a war he is needed in.

 

He thinks of all the questions Alexander asked him tonight. And he tries to answer them in his head.

 

Why must you always call me by my entire first name?

 

Because I like the way it sounds on my tongue.

 

Why does your coat always smell like coffee and that cologne?

 

Because I've been wearing that cologne for 18 years and it's the only cologne I trust. I also drink too much coffee.

 

Why do you always wear suits?

 

I think I look the best in them.

 

Why are your eyebrows so bushy? Why does your skin feel so rough?

 

Because that's just the way I was made.

 

Why are you so good with cats?

 

I'm not, I'm just good with that cat.

 

Why are you always there to pick me up?

 

Because I just can't help it.

 

And why do I always let you?

 

You can't help it either.

 

Why are you so perfect?

 

I'm not. Not at all.

 

Why are you trying to help me?

 

Because I love you.

 

______________________________________________

 

The next day, he gives Alexander the day off.

 

He leaves a note on the fridge saying so and leaves for work.

 

Alexander kissed him.

 

He kissed him and begged him to not to do something. He just doesn't know what.

 

Washington figures it's about the James Reynolds situation.

 

When Alexander was using Washington's laptop, he seen the search history and wants George to stop.

 

He doesn't want the man to know about all the details of the debt he was in.

 

But he can't.

 

Not when he's soo close.

 

So close to everything. Reynolds, Jefferson. It's all coming full circle and if he can get through this barrier, everyone can be safe.

 

Washington sits in his chair, a hand covering his face as he thinks.

 

Alexander asked Washington to stop. He begged. He kissed him.

 

Alexander, who right now belongs to Eliza.

 

Alexander who said he was handling things.

 

Alexander who was drunk on the couch.

 

Why was he drinking? Was the situation with the Reynolds so bad, the boy had to nearly give himself alcohol poisoning just to calm down?

 

Nothing makes sense.

 

He hears a knock on the door.

 

“Come in.” He says seriously, he sits up and shakes away some of his anxiety.

 

Lafayette's assistant-Burr if he remembered correctly cautiously steps in.

 

“Good morning sir.” He says professionally, and Washington is so used to being greeted by a wise cracking Alexander first thing in the morning, the professionalism messes him up.

 

“Uh...hi.” He says unsure.

 

Burr sets the papers down on his desk.

 

“Well, they're there. I scheduled your lunch appointment with a Mr. James Reynolds of Columbia University for tomorrow morning. He has agreed.”

 

His watch beeps and he presses a button to silence it.

 

“That is the folder on everything I could find about a Thomas Jefferson of Monticello, Virginia.” Burr shakes his head and Washington closes his mouth.

 

“Thanks, Aaron.” Washington says and Aaron puts his hands behind his back.

 

“Anytime sir. I'm just confused as to why Hamilton couldn't have done this? He is your assistant.” Burr looks down almost as if he's embarrassed.

 

“He...hasn't been feeling that well lately. I didn't want to stress him out with new assignments. Not when they're so simple.”

 

It seems like a good enough answer for Burr. Because the man is shaking his head and turning to leave out.

 

“Oh and Burr?” Washington calls.

 

As if he is a robot, Aaron stops and turns around swifty.

 

“I think it's best if you keep all this between us.” Washington winks and he sees Burrs eyebrows shoot up.

 

“Secrets! Yes a secret! Ok sir! Your secret is safe with me!” He gives a toothy grin and runs out of the room.

 

Washington drops the smile and grabs for the first folder.

 

He begins reading, trying to focus on the words instead of the fuzzy, stinging feeling on his lips from the boy who electrocuted him with his kiss last night. 

Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Notes:

Things are boiling up guys, shit is going down.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He woke up to an empty house.

 

And in most cases the empty houses don't upset George.

 

But this morning it seemed to butcher his heart.

 

Alexander wasn't there when Washington got home from work yesterday.

 

He didn't come home at all. At Least not when Washington was awake.

 

He sits at the kitchen island.

 

The kitchen island where he and Alexander shared so many memories together. Sad memories, happy ones as well. Beautiful spots in their history, ugly cuts in their past.

 

He ties his tie.

 

He leaves.

 

_________________________

 

“Wheres Alexander?” Lafayette greets when Washington comes in.

 

“He’s off.” Washington quickly replies. He's been getting good at lying.

 

It scares him.

 

“Hmmm. He wasn't here either yesterday. Off for two days in a row? You’ve never allowed that before.” Laf plays with his tie bar.

 

“He needed it.” Washington says stiffly.

 

That's not a lie.

 

Lafayette doesn't ask about the boy anymore.

 

“I heard you're leaving for lunch. Where are you going?” The Frenchman batts his eyes and even though it feels like the entire world is resting on Washington's chest he still can't help but to laugh at him.

 

“To get you some lipstick.” He rolls his eyes and Laf claps.

 

“You know I love nudes. And Chanel .” He chuckles when Washington pretends to write it down.

 

“Seriously my friend. What's been going on? After returning from your office, Burr was so giggly.” Now it's his turn to roll his eyes.

 

“He said something?” Washington tries to sound uninterested even though he's tense.

 

Lafayette shakes his head.

 

“Nah, he just kept going on about how he is now best friends with both owners of the company.” Laf sounds bored and tired.

 

“He's quite a character huh?” Washington can't help but to chuckle.

 

“He is the son I never knew I didn't want.” Laf puts his tie bar back on.

 

“Everything is fine. I told him I appreciated his help.” Washington says and to his pleasure Lafayette nods.

 

“Ah...now I understand. Il est un brioche à la cannelle . Est facilement attaché. I think he has abandonment issues.”

 

Washington chuckles.

 

“He seems very kind.”

 

“Oh he is. Works hard too. But still. Dieu damn.” Laf stands to exit.

 

Washington shakes his head.

 

“So will you tell me where you're going?” He quirks his eyebrow and Washington looks away.

 

“Really Gilbert. It's nothing.” He stands to meet his friend at the door, giving him a pat on the back.

 

Lafayette must finally see that he's getting nowhere, he shakes his head and opens the door.

 

“So much secrecy with you these days George. So much.”

 

He leaves.

 

And Washington's hearts seems to only rip further.

 

__________________________________________

He isn't waiting that long, he knows it.

 

It only feels like forever because of the amount of suspense.

 

The amount of questions he has for James Reynolds.

 

A part of Washington is relieved, excited even. He will finally meet someone that actually knows what's going on and won't use metaphors to describe it.

 

He always thought Le Bernardin was over priced and too snobby for his taste. Sure the food was good but it wasn't that good.

 

But Washington figures if James Reynolds was making immigrant college students pay him money, the man would like some expensive stuff.

 

It's strategizing really.

 

When he gets there, Reynolds is nowhere to be found. He takes a seat, orders a few drinks (just water for him) and waits for the man to appear.

 

It comes in the most anti climatic introduction.

 

“Well, if it isn't the man, the legend himself. George Washington!”

 

Washington stands and turns to get a good look at him.

 

Sure enough it's the same person from the picture on the Columbia site, just more aged and professional.

 

“Mr. Reynolds. So nice to make your acquaintance.” Washington gives him a firm handshake.

 

Reynolds gives him a slick smile.

 

The two take their seats and a waiter appears to take their order.

 

Washington settles on salmon while Reynolds decides to order the most expensive thing on the Lounge menu.

 

“Imperial Golden Osetra sounds just great, I'll take that.” He closes his menu and tosses it the waiter.

 

Washington tries to not let his annoyance show.

 

“So, to what do I owe this magnificent meeting with one of the most powerful men in America to?” Reynolds asks as he takes a sip of his drink.

 

Washington shrugs.

 

“Well, that is a complicated question. You might not like what I have to ask you.” He takes a sip of his water.

 

Reynolds just laughs. “I'll do my best to answer them.”

 

Washington clears his throat.

 

“It is to my knowledge that you work at Columbia University.” He looks at the man.

 

“Oh sir.” Reynolds chuckles, “I do more than work. I play a very important part.” He looks very smug about it and for some reason, that only seems to anger Washington even more.

 

“Ok. Well you in fact did teach, for finance I believe. Am I correct?” Washington asks.

 

The man nods.

 

“Well.” Washington swallows again.

 

Just rip it off like a band aid. He tells himself.

 

“Well.” Reynolds gives him a creepy smile.

 

“Well, I came here to ask you some questions about one of your students. Alexander Hamilton?”

 

He can see the color drain from the man's face.

 

“No one would have to know but us, James.” Washington says sternly.

 

“I must be going.” James quickly replies standing up and throwing his napkin on the table.

 

“Yes, that's alright.” Washington says coolly, “I'll just contact the police about the missing 2,000 dollars in my bank account. I'm sure they'll answer all the questions I have.”

James looks at him in horror.

 

“Alexander stole the money from you?” He asks shocked and Washington shakes his head.

 

“You are in no position to be asking questions James. Sit.”

 

The man does what he is told.

 

It goes silent between the two for a few moments. Both reshuffling their playing cards.

 

“Alexander works for me. He needed some help and I helped him. But unfortunately, he doesn't like to talk about himself, more importantly how he gets into these predicaments. This is where you come in. Why was Alexander in debt to you? And why was he expelled from Colombia?”


Reynolds shakes his head.

 

“Washington you are a man of honor. And if you were in my place you would be saying what I am saying to you. Alexander's business is not mine to tell.”

 

“Honor? Now you want to appear like a gentleman Mr. Reynolds?”

“I know, it may look bad George but trust me. I care for Alexander very much so. And everything I did I did to help him. Believe it or not.”

 

“I don't.” He looks away.

 

“Everything that happened to me is all I can tell you.” The man says level and Washington waits for him to continue.”


“My wife, Maria. She...she has issues. We married young, we were teenagers. She had money and I had money, our families were of high class. It seemed like the best thing to do. But from the moment I met her, I knew she wasn't right in the head. I got the job at Colombia right after I got out of college. Maria, tired of being a housewife, wanted something to do. So I got her a little hobby working at the school with me. She loved people and kids so it obviously seemed right that she would have a role in their lives.”

 

Washington nods.

 

“Now, this is where details get fuzzy. I can't tell you what Alexander did exactly, even I don't know, that is my wife's story. All I know is that I came home one afternoon and walked into that room to find one of my best students in my bed with my wife.”

 

Reynolds stops to take a sip of his wine.

 

“And in return you made him pay money for you to keep quiet.” Washington finishes but Reynolds shakes his head.

 

“NO! Why would I do that? I had money, more than enough, Alexander and his tiny 2,000 or so was nothing for us.”

 

“So what was the debt for?” Washington asks.

 

Reynolds takes another sip.

 

“I wasn't alone when I walked into that room.”

 

And Washington's heart drops.

 

“Who else was there?” He asks quietly.

 

“A Mr. James Madison.” He answers.

 

Washington doesn't know how the glass of water next to him crashed to the ground.

 

People around them stare at Washington in horror and disgust as the man jumps up from the table repeatedly shaking his head.

 

“Sir? Are you alright?” The waiter asks trying to pick up all the wet glass from the floor.

 

Washington ignores him and looks directly at Reynolds.

 

“He wanted the money from Alexander? To keep quiet about your affair?”

 

James, who seems unbothered about the chaos erupting around him shrugs.

 

“It would damaged Alexander forever. Madison saw an opportunity to get some extra money on the side.”

 

Washington stares with his jaw dropped.

 

Murmurs began filling around the lounge and James rolls his eyes.

 

“Come on.” He stands and throws a few hundreds on the table.

 

“I never liked this place anyway.”

 

When they reach the cold air of New York Washington speaks again.

 

“If Madison wanted the money, why was Alexander paying you?”

 

“Madison didn't want to get his hands dirty. Wouldn't look the best on him if the word got out.  And I didn't mind. I tried to help Alexander as much as I can, even payed some of the debt myself. I knew my wife was obsessed with attention and promised the boy something if he slept with her. Sure he was to blame but not all of it was him. Plus he really was a good student. I saw how this would damage his potential career.”

 

Reynolds sticks his hands in his pocket.

 

“Well, how did Alexander get expelled from Colombia?” He asks.

 

James Laughs.

 

“It's not my business to tell. But trust me, it wasn't because of this. Alexander is a firm believer on certain things. He's a hothead with a horrid temper. You do the math.”

 

The men continued to walk.

 

“What about when he left? Madison, what did he do?”

 

“He set up an account where I could put all of the money in there with no connections to him. But after Alex lost his job, money got a little hard.”

 

“Jefferson.” Washington says.

 

“Who?” James stops and looks at him.

 

“You don't know?” Washington asks and Reynolds shrugs.

 

“After Alex left, my only way of contact was through phone.”

Alexander must have been speaking to him in the closet that day.

 

The day when he asked for the money.

 

“And what about Madison?”

 

“I haven't spoken to him in a very long time. I paid him the rest of the money, and I got out of there. Something always told me he was never as innocent as he seemed.”

 

Washington scoffed.

 

You got that right.

 

“Alexander, did he-”

 

James holds his hand up.

 

“I told you Washington. This is where my role in this story stops. I can't tell you anymore because it isn't my story.”

 

And Washington sighs.

 

“Yes I understand.”

 

James’s car shows up right on time.

 

“Listen to me George.”

 

And he looks him right in the eye.

 

“I've known Alex for quite sometime. Longer than you. And I will say this, he's a smart young man. Gifted and hardworking yes. But he's also very flawed. He knew that was my wife, and he knew very much so what would happen when he did what he did to get expelled. It's not entirely his fault, but he's no angel either.”

 

“He still doesn't deserve this.” Washington says seriously and Reynolds nods along.

 

“Hes too young to feel that old, yes I agree.”

 

The driver opens the door for Reynolds to step in.

 

“He's something isn't he?” Reynolds asks with something of a smile on his face.

 

“I've never met anyone like him before.” Washington replies.

 

“After he told me he never knew his father, I called him the son of Daedalus.”

 

Washington remains silent.

 

He doesn't know what that is.

 

“He never knows his limits George. He's gotten out of a cruel place yes but it won't matter because he never knows when to stop. Sometimes, he just gets too close to the sun.”

 

James sighs and gets into the car without another word.

 

And before Washington can reply.

 

The car is speeding away down the street.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed. I know I did.

Chapter 21: UPDATE

Chapter Text

Well this is awkward. It’s been about three years since I’ve updated this fic. I’ve had some shitty issues going on but things have calmed down and because of the current situation in the world. I have more than enough time to start writing again. I have promised I would finish my fics and I still intend to keep that promise despite the inconsistencies. I still get messages from people begging to know how this ends Atleast and it breaks my heart to know people care about it and I have left it in the back. As you can tell by the heavy content of my writings, these fics take a lot out of me. I have to be in a certain mood to write them and most times they aren’t positive. They also leave me in a bad mood as well because of the subject matter. Nevertheless I love writing and I love broadway shows and I do miss this website. I’m posting this update for a number of reasons. To say that I am back and on the site, I am in a better place than where I was at within the time of writing this and also to know if anyone is still interested in reading this fic and another one of my fics in the Dear Evan Hansen tab. I’m sure the original readers are gone and don’t remember nor care. Let me know if anyone is still interested in this fic and I will bring it back. Hope to hear from anyone soon.

Chapter 22: Chapter 21

Notes:

Oh my goodness here we are.

Thought Id start things off with a bang.

Things are boiling up guys!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When Washington gets home, the street lights are on. 

 

And it feels wrong. 

 

He's on the edge. Something is wrong and he can't quite put his finger on it.

 

He goes through the lobby of his apartment and people continue to move in their own ways but in Washington's eyes he can see everything more clearly than what it was before. 

 

Like he's in a snowglobe.

 

And it feels wrong.

 

Everyone is laughing and talking, but it feels like he's on the outside and Washington doesn't mind being on the outside, but in this case it feels like he's missing out.

 

Normalcy.

 

He hasn't had it in a while.

 

And after meeting with James Reynolds, this thick, fog-like curtain of isolation starts to set in on him. 

 

Not being what he once was.

 

When he lost his wife he felt this way.

 

In the middle of a street in the fog.

 

Alone.

 

Isolated.

 

Looking at the city pass you by and know you can never get back what you lost, her or these seconds.



But he slowly managed to pick himself up and get back in the car, use his headlights to get out of the fog. 


But with Alexander it was different.

 

Washington wasn't driving.

He was in the backseat.

 

And Alexander had both hands on the wheel and both eyes closed tightly.

 

Where was he going?

 

Was he driving back home? To his mother?

 

To that fire everyone talks so much about?

 

Why was he taking George  with him?

 

And why did Washington let him take him?

 


He presses the button on the elevator and thinks about all the people he's met on this adventure.

 

James Reynolds.

 

John Laurens.

 

Even Lafayette. A new person.

 

Mickey.

 

He wonders if they think about him too.

 

When the elevator dings he takes a moment longer than he did before to get off.

 

He didn't feel like facing Alexander.

 

He was so tired.

 

He wanted a moment where things were predictable and clear.

 

Where it didn't feel like his entire skin was burning.

 

But he had nowhere else to go, and of course this was his home.

 

The home he made with his wife. 

 

With each step he took he felt guilty.

 

Mixing in with the fog.

 

Being so in love with a person that wasn't Martha felt like knives sticking into his neck.

 

But each time he touched Alexander, the pain would stop.

 

He couldn't tell anymore if it was love or addiction.

 

When he gets to the door, it's uncomfortably quiet. 

 

Washington pauses for a second and stares at it.

 

The brown door.

 

And something isn't right.

 

It feels wrong.

 

So wrong.

 

He reaches for his phone and calls John.

 

His eyes stay plastered on the door.

 

His door.

 

John doesn't answer.

 

So Washington puts his phone away.

 

He pulls out his key and everything feels like it's underwater and it's slow and drowned out.

 

Foggy.

 

He puts the key in and turns it anyway.

 

And he thought Alexander was fire.

 

But this man was ablaze.

 

And he felt it the moment he walked into the room.

 

Smoke.

 

On his couch.

 

And heat.

 

In his veins.

 

Jefferson, they called him.

 

But he knew it was the devil.

 

Legs crossed, and a Rolex the color of the moon on his wrist. 

 

A cigarette in his mouth.

 

Washington swallows.

 

Jefferson doesn't look up from what he's reading.



That book Washington was reading, capitalism in the twenty-first century.

 

Alexander's favorite book.

 

Washington reacts swiftly.

 

Closing the door behind him.

 

After a few beats of silence, Jefferson, on his own terms, looks up.

 

“Sir," he smiles.

 

And Washington doesn't like it.

 

Jefferson stands up, adjusting his suit accordingly and placing the book on the coffee table.

 

“Quite interesting. I myself am a fan of the study of economics, however you didn't strike me as a business person.”

 

Washington swallows and straightens up.

 

“I am a CEO of course.”

 

Jefferson chuckles.

 

“That you are.”

 

He moves from the couch to stand in front of Washington at the door.

 

And Washington is ready to fight back.

 

Jefferson has a gun.

 

A knife.

 

Matches.

 

But all Jefferson does is hold out a hand.

 

“I wasn't well at first impressions. Thought I’d try again.”

 

Washington shakes his hand.

 

“Thomas Jefferson, Monticello.”

 

“George Washington, Mount Vernon.”

 

Silence fills the two and it's like a storm brewing in the distance.

 

“Nice to meet your acquaintance.” Washington says coolly. “Would you like a drink?”

 

Jefferson chuckles. “I like you.”

 

He follows Washington to the kitchen and continues.

 

“Not a single question about how I ended up here in this lovely apartment. No questions asked at all. You only make do with what you have. I admire that.”

 

Washington shakes his head. “Theatrics aren't my thing.”

 

He opens a bottle of scotch and pours two glasses, trying to keep his hand steady from the new anxiety in his system.

 

Jefferson hums. 

 

“I suppose we have a lot of things in common then. I'm a simple man myself. Maybe that is why you impressed me so greatly at the cotillion.”

 

Washington nodes again. “Yes. You stuck out to me as well.”

 

He's definitely not lying.

 

Jefferson gives a cool friendly smile. “That honors me deeply to hear that. Not everyone gets the attention they want from George Washington.”

 

Washington licks his lips. 

 

He slides the glass across the island to Jefferson, who catches it quick and clean.


Silence and eye contact.

 

And Washington feels like he's on a string.

 

Thomas Jefferson has scissors.

 

“I must say you have impressed me for a while now. The cherry on top was your girls at the cotillion. I have never seen such beautiful girls in my life. So classy, trained. Well behaved.”

 

Washington clutches his glass a little tighter and tries to swallow the disgust in his throat.

 

“Thank you.” He says stiffly.

 

Jefferson turns his head.

 

“Madison told me you were a man of confidence and highly esteemed. And of course I have heard of you and your business partner many times. I've always wished I had your life.”

 

“Is that so?” Washington takes a sip. His body shaking and muscles tight.

 

What's going to happen?

 

He can't see it.

 

The fog.

 

And it feels wrong. 

 

Jefferson hums.

 

“Yes. Successful, respected, powerful. Sheltered.”

 

Washington waits for him to continue.

 

“Forgive me for overstepping our acquaintance but I must tell you, I came from a very humble background. My mother was a drug addict and prostitute. My dad was in and out of my life until he was killed in a drive by. I raised myself. Desperate to make it out I looked for a way to be sheltered.”

 

He unbuttons his purple suit jacket, picks up his glass and walks out into the living room.

 

And Washington has no choice but to follow.

 

He's still in the backseat.

 

“My establishment gives me that now. And now, we are on the same level.” He turns and stares at Washington, something unreadable in his eye.

 

“Congratulations.” Washington says, and he tries not to spit it out.

 

Jefferson smiles.

 

“Thank you. I figured Washington, we could help each other.”

 

He stares at the pictures on the fireplace and on the wall. Eyes roaming on the little pieces of George's heart.

 

Washington isn't afraid.

 

He's worried.

 

“I know what it takes to keep a business together my good man. I know you have to break a few eggs, push a few buttons and keep your guard up. To keep this shelter.” He signals to the room.

 

“And two businessmen working together is better than against each other. My establishment has taught me that.”

 

Washington thinks of Alexander.

 

It's unspoken between them.

 

Does he know?

 

He has to.

 

“We both don't want to lose what we have. Compromises can be reached to protect and save the thing most dear to us.”


Alexander .

 

Washington swallows and takes a sip. Eyes never leaving Jefferson’s slick ones.

 

“That's a bit dramatic considering there's no war.”

 

“You'd be surprised at how privilege puts a veil over our eyes.”

 

“I've been in a war sir.” Washington states. “You see the bad guys loud and clear.”

 

Jefferson swallows at that. His calm demeanor flinches, and Washington sees it. 

 

“I figured contacts are good. Networking and respect is much desired in this line of work. You know? To keep our…”

 

“Shelter.” The two say it at the same time.

 

Washington shakes his head.

 

“I suppose my shelter and comfort is my best and most prized possession.”

 

Jefferson hums.

 

“But.” Washington cuts him off with an icy tone.

 

“I'd start to think it probable of a mess and dishonor when someone else's shelter is compromised due to mine.”

 

There's silence again.

 

“Nevertheless, I have spent my life trying to be kind to everyone I've come into contact with. Not because of the demand for contacts and alliances. But because that is what is right.”

 

Washington stands, his glass now empty.

 

Business may be business. But I'm the man I am today because of my morals. Money doesn't shelter me, my conscious does.” 

 

He stares at Jefferson in a challenging way.

 

If Jefferson is upset or shocked, he doesn't show it. He finishes his scotch and puts the glass on the coffee table. On the coaster to not mess up the wood.

 

“George Washington. The kind, caring man who just so happens to be lucky.”

 

“It all depends on who you're talking to.” Washington responds quickly.

 

“It depends on what side of the gun you're standing on.”

 

Washington straightens up.

 

“One day you're lucky my goodman, pointing that pistol at those men who get in the dirt and build with their hands. But the next you're on the other side and they are in control of the trigger. The world is moving too fast, you can't care about it too much because it forgets you every second.”

 

“I've been alive for 40 years. The seconds haven't treated me as you described.”

 

Jefferson shakes his hand. “You haven't met the dirty people yet.”

 

And this silence is different. 

 

It's boiling up.

 

“When I do meet them. I will be prepared to deal with them accordingly.”

 

“Now that.” Replies Jefferson.

 

“Is something worth watching.”

 

“Something worth sheltering.” Washington corrects.

 

Jefferson puts his hands in his pocket, leans his head up and stares at Washington.

 

“I really do like you.” He says simply.

 

Washington doesn't say it back.

 

“I've enjoyed our talk.” Jefferson reaches for his expensive coat and puts it on.

 

“I must admit I thought I knew you already. I thought you were so predictable. Normal. I've guessed wrong.”

 

Normalcy.

 

“Maybe I was before.” Washington walks him to the door. 


“Things are different. It seems I'm always on the outside.”

 

Like a snowglobe

 

Well you know, outside means you're already out. A few steps ahead.” Says Jefferson

 

“Not everything is a fight.”

 

“Sure it is.”

 

Washington opens the door for him.

 

But Jefferson isn't done.

 

“I will say this Mr. Washington. We may have different outlooks on life and business. But I respect your opinion. I hope you respect mine.”

 

Washington nods.

 

He respects nothing about Jefferson.

 

“Where the line gets drawn is when my shelter is put in jeopardy. As you said you would never do anything to compromise anyone elses shelter.”

 

Washington swallows.

 

“I will destroy everyone if it means keeping mine. I don't care who you are. It's business. It's my business.”

 

Jefferson walks out of the apartment into the hall. Looking down on it.

 

“I trust this is the start of a friendship. And when the day comes you remember our conversation.”

 

“Is that a threat?” Washington asks.

 

“No.” Jefferson laughs.

 

“You said it yourself. There is no war.”

 

“But you believe there is one.” Washington replies.

 

“I hope there isn't. I wouldn't want to have the end of a gun pointed at any of us. I don't like mess.”

 

Jefferson presses the elevator buttons.

 

“Don't go starting fires, George. You might burn yourself. And I have no issue with heat. I've been on fire my whole life.”

 

“The war teaches you a lot of things Mr. Jefferson. One of them is how to put out a fire.” Washington says anger boiling in his throat.

 

“Good.” Jefferson says calmly.

 

“Lets see who wins this war.”

 

“What happened to connections?”

 

“Friends can kill each other. You should know of all people.”

 

Alexander .




“Until we meet again Mr. Washington. Keep that door unlocked for me.”




Alexander wakes him up in the middle of the night. And there is horror in his eyes.




“John is in the hospital.” 

Notes:

Let me know how everyone feels about this chapter? Im trying to get back into it but I dont know yet.

Notes:

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