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Chapter Text

When Alexander Hamilton woke up from his sleep, he was facing the white ceiling of his bedroom. The sun light burst through the windows of his room, bare of any curtain since Alex never got a chance to furnish his apartment. There was barely anything in his room. His bedroom only had one bed and a small closet where he put his clothes in. Another bedroom he used as the library and his office, where he put his boxes of books there along with empty shelves that was installed before Alex moved in. The last bedroom was left empty, it was meant to be a guest room, but Alex wasn’t in the mood to buy stuffs for his new place.

He was lying down for a few minutes before he pushed himself up, walking out of his room to the living room. It was just as empty as the rest of the apartment. The only furniture in the living room was the old couch and a coffee table. His laptop sat on the coffee table along with an empty mug of coffee he hadn’t washed. He didn’t have television or any kind of entertainment in his place. He didn’t feel like need it. He could get those things from his computer anyway. His kitchen was no better. He only got a fridge, electric stove, and a pan he used to cook instant food from noodles to hamburger. He rarely cooked anyway, and he could always call for takeout.

Alex looked around the apartment, with all the spaces he didn’t feel stuffed. This was good. He made the right decision after all. He wanted to live independently, in a new city far away from his adopted family back in Virginia. He could be a new man here, he was sure. He had spent the last two years in this city anyway when he finished up his college degree, but now, he could focused on his work.

Writing.

He opened his fridge, trying to find something to eat, but just like his apartment, his fridge was also empty except for the milk carton and a dried out strawberry he didn’t know where it came from. He poured the milk to a glass and started to hunt down for food in his kitchen. He found some bread, and after making sure it wasn’t moldy, he sliced it. He was lucky he found peanut butter jar in the back of his kitchen cabinet, and spread it on his bread, making a simple sandwich. He nodded before he ate his breakfast in silence. He checked his phone for any news, but nothing was interesting. His agent called three times the night before and his e-mail box was full, he didn’t bother to check on them.

After he finished his breakfast and milk, Alex went to the couch. As he sat down and took his laptop, he started to work. He always told everyone that he set the schedule, to write every day. From 7 o’clock to 5 o’clock was work time with thirty minutes lunch break (at least that was what he told Tench Tilghman, his agent, and his adoptive parents, he usually just worked all the way through the night until he crashed from lack of sleep, not healthy, but he still did it—and he still spare some time for his walk around the city, so at least he got exercise squeezed in). That was how he managed his schedule, and how he managed to churning out book after book being a prolific writer he was. He loved his job, it was the only thing that kept him going. The only thing that pulled him out of his circumstances.

Alexander worked until lunch, but then he remembered he didn’t have anything to eat anymore, he was torn between going out for lunch or just called for takeout. He remembered it had been awhile since the last time he actually going out of his empty apartment and he could hear his adoptive Mom sighing and told him to get out more. So Alex went to his bedroom, took a warm coat and his wallet, put on his shoes, and slipped the phone in his pocket. He locked the door and walked up to the elevator.

The apartment building he was living in was huge, at least twenty floors. Alex lived in 17th Floor, apartment 76. He didn’t mean to live so extravagantly by living in a huge place like this by himself, but he got the money and he wanted to live somewhere with a great view of river. He could get it from this apartment. He could get a roommate if he wanted, but he didn’t want anyone bothering his personal space. He liked having all the spaces all for himself after years of having to share with someone.

The ride down the elevator was uneventful. The elevator didn’t stop until it reached the ground floor and Alexander walked out of the building. He headed to the nearby fast food restaurant, ordered a burger and French fries for lunch.

Thirty minutes later, he was heading back to his place to continue his work until later. He could always call for takeout since he had going out for lunch.

Alexander could take care of himself.

Alexander Hamilton was a writer, a novelist though he preferred to be called a writer since he wasn’t just wrote novels (though majority of his work were novels) he also wrote poems and essays and short-stories, and he was confident he was pretty famous despite his age. He had started to write for as long as he could remember, though his first work published was back when he was 14 years old. Now when he was older and a better writer than his 14 years old self, Alex couldn’t help but felt slightly embarrassed by the first book he wrote, ‘Hurricane’. He liked to think of it as a semi-autobiography, as he retold his story from when he was younger and living in a small Caribbean island until he met his adopted family, the Washingtons. He gave the finished work to his Mom, Martha Washington, as birthday present, and when she read it, she asked Alexander if it was okay to send the work to a publisher. Alexander never really thought about it before, but he agreed.

The book became a huge success, especially when people knew it was written by a 14 years old boy. His parents, George and Martha, looked so proud of him, and Alexander found himself wanting make them even more proud. He decided he wanted to be a writer. It was the way he could make his parents happy of him, they would keep Alex with them if he could be the son they were proud of. Alex was young; the Washingtons didn’t know much about literary work. His Dad, George Washington, decided they should find a literary agent to help Alex managing his work because they wanted the best for their son.

Tench Tilghman had been Alex’s agent since he was 15 years old and abd at that time he was working on his second book. His Mom and Dad were strict with his education, so Alex should also put attention to his school work at their demand. Alex didn’t mind. As long as he could stay and made them proud, he didn’t mind.

Now Alex was 25, he had been writing books since he was 14. He had left the Washingtons’ house when he got a scholarship to go to Columbia. At that time, instead of writing just to make the Washingtons proud, all he wanted was to quickly become independent. He could never hate his adoptive family, they were perfect. George and Martha were the best parents anyone could ask for. But Alex knew he wasn’t well liked in that house. The Washingtons’ children hated him, at least he knew Jacky did. Alex knew he was intruding their lives when he came to live with the Washingtons. Alex got all the attention from George and Martha, making Jacky and Patsy set aside once Alex became famous as young prodigal writer. He knew he couldn’t break the family he loved even more, Alex decided to leave once he got the scholarship.

He left Mount Vernon estate and went to New York. Got his degree in journalism (of all thing) before continuing his work, the only thing he had. Alex was a writer, and he would write his way out of his problems.

Eleven years later with almost twenty book titles under his belt and mostly listed as best-sellers, Alex was free. He still called George and Martha from time to time, but he liked living alone.

He was fine.

As he sat in his empty apartment, fingers typing on his laptop until the only sound were the soft humming from the computer and the clacking of the keys as Alex’s fingers dance across the keyboard to create another master piece.

Alexander was fine.

He called Tench when he finished the manuscript for his latest book, ‘It’s Quiet Uptown’, and his agent agreed to pick it up later in the afternoon. For once, Alexander stopped working and sagged onto the couch. His eyes fell on the fridge and he remembered he should go to buy some grocery. He should buy some curtains too since he kept getting woken up far too early in the morning with the sun light hitting his face without any barrier between the window and his bed.

Maybe he should buy TV while he was at it.

Alexander looked at his phone screen, finding new texts from his Mom. Martha had made it her mission to check on Alex once a day, and she would throw a fit if Alex didn’t call or texted back. His Mom asked him to come home for Thanksgiving. Alex looked at the calendar on his phone and sighed. She was right, it was almost Thanksgiving, but Alex didn’t felt like going home. He wondered if Tench could find him some excuse to miss it. Maybe a book signing or book tour.

He texted back telling her he would try to find time. He felt bad lying to his parents. Martha and George were the best things in Alex’s teenage years, but he couldn’t help but wanting to avoid the looks Jacky and Patsy would give him. Well, Patsy would just give him indifferent look, but Jacky would clearly glare at him, and Alex didn’t feel like spending a few days suffering from that. He knew George’s relationship with Jacky had been rocky, especially these past few years, and Alex knew he was the one that caused the rift between them. Him and his books.

Alexander sighed as he curled up on his couch, wrapping his blanket around himself tightly. It wasn’t that cold, but Alex liked the warmth and comfort from his blanket.
His fridge was still empty, and Alex didn’t feel like going out to shop.

He just wanted to sleep.

Alex was hungry. He didn’t feel like calling for takeout or pizza, he wanted something else. Tench had come to pick up his latest work, quick-scanning the page before nodded in satisfaction. The man asked if he wanted to go out for a drink, but Alex refused politely. He wasn’t the best company at the moment and he was tired.

Still, he had to eat something. He dragged himself out of his couch, put on his jacket and brought his wallet and phone along before heading out. He had to do some grocery shopping, and by grocery shopping he meant to buy frozen food and more instant noodles. He wasn’t that much of a cook anyway, so he never bothered buying real ingredients. It took him thirty minutes until he got everything he needed as he pushed his cart to the register.

In the end, he regretted his decision to walk to the supermarket.

He bought too many things and there was no way he could carry everything by himself now. He was ready to get an Uber, but he noticed his phone was dead.

Great.

“Hey, you’re okay there, Monsieur?” a thick accented voice asked, making Alexander looked up.

In front of him was a man, around Alex’s age. He was tall, with friendly face, dressed in fashionable coat, carrying a small grocery bag with him.

“Uh… yeah… I’m fine…” Alex mumbled, suddenly feeling stupid standing in front of the supermarket and surrounded by his groceries.

“You don’t look fine, mon ami,” the man chuckled. “You went a bit overboard, no?”

Alex blushed. “I was going to call a taxi… but my phone is dead…” he admitted.

“You live in the area? I don’t mind driving you home,” he pointed at a shiny blue sedan parked not too far from them. “My name is Gilbert du Motier, you can call me Lafayette,” he introduced himself. “I live in The Liberty Apartments.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “I live… in the same building,” Alex said slowly.

“No kidding? I live in the 17th floor, how about you?”

“17th,” Alex said.

“We’re neighbors! Now I must insist on helping you. There’s no way you can find a taxi in this area at this hour,” Lafayette said. “And you don’t have to worry, I’m not a serial killer or kidnapper,” he winked.

“You would tell me the same even if you are,” Alexander mumbled as Lafayette helped him carried everything to his car.

“True. I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name?” Lafayette asked.

“It’s Alexander,” Alexander said.

“Alexander, huh? Can I call you Alex?”

“Sure,” Alexander nodded. Most people called him Alex anyway. Only George called him Alexander. Well, George and Jacky.

“Hop in then. I’ll drive you home.”

With the two of them, it was a lot easier to carry all the groceries to Alex’s place. Lafayette was very chatty, and ever since they got in the car, the man didn’t stop talking about mundane things like weather, celebrity gossips, fashion trends, a crappy film he watched last week with his roommates. Lafayette told Alex he lived with two roommates who had been friends with him since college. One of them was a nurse and the other was a tailor. Lafayette himself was a photographer, telling Alex proudly that he was quite famous.

They stopped in front of Alex’s place, apartment 1776.

“Oh, you live right across us!” Lafayette grinned, pointed at the apartment number 1777. The door was a bit further down the hallway. “Do you need help carrying everything inside?” he asked.

“No, I can take it from here,” Alexander said. “Thank you for your help, Lafayette,” he smiled.

“You’re welcome,” Lafayette nodded. “Say, how about joining us for dinner tomorrow? Hercules will cook, and let me tell you, his cooking is better than any five star restaurant,” the Frenchman said. “You should join us since we’re neighbors and all.”

“I don’t want to intrude…” Alex shuffled awkwardly.

“Nonsense! John and Herc will be happy to have you for dinner,” Lafayette patted his shoulder. “Come in at 5.30, we will have a feast!”

Alexander couldn’t help but feel warm when Lafayette patted his shoulder. In the end, he nodded and smiled.

That night, Alexander couldn’t sleep. He sat in his living room and started to write without care until he was too exhausted to continue.

The next day, Alex didn’t know what made him even considered Lafayette’s invitation as he stood awkwardly in front of the door of apartment 1777. He was ready to bolt out and returned to his own apartment when the door opened and a man stood in front of Alex. He was tall, big, and muscular, dressed in dark blue sweater and jeans under a black apron he had on. He looked intimidating but his face was friendly, just like Lafayette’s, and Alex was sure he could snap Alex into two like a toothpick.

The man raised an eyebrow.

“You’re Alex,” his voice was deep. It wasn’t a question, but Alex nodded nonetheless.

Then, the man smiled warmly, just like Lafayette did, before opening the door wider to let Alex in. “Come in! Laf told us about you joining us for dinner,” he said lightly. “I’m Hercules, by the way. Hercules Mulligan, Laf’s roommates.”

“Alexander. You can call me Alex.”

“You live across the hall way, right? Apartment 1776? I didn’t know someone has moved in already. If I did, I would’ve come with some gifts,” Hercules chuckled. “But now you’re here, you can sit with Laf in the living room while I prepare dinner.”

He led Alex into the living room. Alex couldn’t believe this place had the same layout as his. The place had been furnished unlike Alex’s empty rooms. The living room was filled with a large couch, several smaller couches, a coffee table, and TV set. Alex noticed a few home entertainments consoles stacked neatly on the shelves. The place felt warm and homely, despite being lived in by three guys. Lafayette was settled on the couch, reading a book Alex didn’t recognize before he saw Alex had stepped into the room.

“Alex! You make it,” he smiled and pulled Alex into aggressive hug and planted two kisses on his cheeks. “I was planning on picking you up myself if you didn’t show up, but I’m glad you did. Sit down,” he patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “John is still at the hospital at the moment, but I’m sure he would join us soon.”

“Okay,” Alex nodded and sat awkwardly.

He couldn’t remember the last time he got invited to someone else’s house. Even since he was young, he never good at making friends, let alone being invited to their houses. He was a loud mouth, sure people flocked around him from time to time, but he never really close to someone to be invited over to their house. He was unsure how to act, so he just sat there, nervously playing with the hem of his hoodie.

“Don’t be nervous Alex, you’re doing fine,” Lafayette chuckled. “Do you like reading? We have a small collection, though most of them are John’s. Or, I can show you my works.” Lafayette set aside his book, giving Alex the chance to read the title. ‘WAIT!’ by Aaron Burr, Alex smiled slightly at Lafayette’s choice of book. He knew Burr, they had been working together once. He might consider Burr as a colleague.

“Sure,” Alex nodded. Lafayette led the tour around the apartment, showing him the photographs he took, adorning the walls of the apartment; most of them were black and white. Alex couldn’t help but entranced by the photographs. It was like looking through another dimension the way Lafayette played with the lights and shadows, creating something unearthly from mundane things like trees or wrinkled papers. Alex could see why Lafayette was proudly saying he was famous. He was clearly a very talented man.

They roamed through the bookshelves on one side of the room. The collection wasn’t as extensive as Alex’s, but he could see the owners had good taste in literature. A few books from the writers he knew personally; James Madison, Eliza Schuyler, Aaron Burr, even a few works of Thomas fucking Jefferson of all people. He was blushing when he saw his books filled one section of the shelves, including his first book he wrote when he was 14, ‘Hurricane’, looking more worn out than the rest. He was hoping none of them would make a connection between Alexander and A. Hamilton who wrote those books. He didn’t feel like telling people about it especially his neighbors.

Hercules called them from the kitchen, saying the dinner was ready. They were ready to eat when the front door was opened and another person entered the house. Alex looked up from his place on the couch to see a man walked in. He wasn’t as tall as Lafayette and Hercules, but still taller than Alex. His hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and he was still dressed warmly in his coat. He was smiling, and Alex felt slightly awkward since he was staring and the guy was cute.

“Sorry I’m late, guys. The traffic is terrible,” the man sighed. “You guys already eat?”

“Not yet, John. This is Alex by the way,” Hercules introduced him.

The man’s eyes quickly fell on to Alex who was still sitting awkwardly on the couch, clutching his plate of pasta. The man smiled brightly when he saw Alex and offered his hand. “John Laurens,” he introduced himself.

“Alexander,” Alex shook his hand, still blushing. “You can call me Alex.”

“Nice,” John nodded. “Well, I’ll change first and join you guys after. Just start the movie without me,” he walked to one of the bedrooms (Alex assumed it was his).

Alex looked up to Lafayette and Hercules.

“Movie?” he asked in confusion.

“Well, it’s just an old tradition of ours to watch a movie while having dinner,” Lafayette chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“It’s okay,” Alex said. He used to write while having dinner anyway. He wasn’t that big of a movie fan himself, hence he never really needed a television in his place. Alex couldn’t help but feel how removed he was from this kind of things, dinner with friends, watching movies. Sure, he had written about them before convincingly, but he couldn’t remember the last time he did something like this. The Washingtons used to have family movie night, and Alex loved it. But when Jacky and Patsy grown distant, they rarely did it until it just stopped completely.

When John returned, he joined them on the couch as Hercules handed him his food and they started the movie. It was a French film. Alex didn’t know the title but he still enjoyed it. They finished dinner and Lafayette brought out his favorite wine. Alex accepted it as they continued watching the two hours movie.

Alex didn’t remember when exactly he fell asleep.

He was warm, he was full, and the wine was wonderful. Alex just closed his eyes and fell asleep between John’s warmth and Lafayette’s.

“He fell asleep,” John whispered to Lafayette, trying to not wake the man sleeping between them, snuggling warmly.

“He looks like he needed it,” Lafayette said. There were dark shadows under his eyes, a sign of lacking sleep. “He looked so lost when I saw him in the supermarket yesterday. Far too skinny and too pale to be healthy. And I saw he just bought junk food, so I thought I’ll invite him for dinner once I know we’re neighbors.”

“I didn’t know he moved in to 1776, I rarely saw him around,” Hercules said. The man knew almost everyone on their floor and the floor above and below. It was strange he didn’t realize someone just moving in to the apartment across the hallway.

John pulled a blanket they always kept around the couch and wrapped it around Alex since he looked cold. Alexander was a weird guy. He looked a bit skittish and awkward during dinner, yet slowly he got more comfortable. He was small, shorter than John, with thin shoulders and pale skin (John suspected it was from the lack of sleep). His hair was messy curls pulled into a bun. Still, his clothes looked nice, and he lived alone in this apartment building said he had enough money. He just looked a bit less groomed, especially since John lived with two fashion savvy men.

“Do you think we should wake him up?” John asked.

“Nah, just let him sleep for now,” Hercules shrugged. “I’ll wash the dishes.”

John nodded gratefully as he put Alex into more comfortable position. He looked up, exchanging knowing looks with Lafayette as they let their new neighbor slept on their couch. That night, their trio had just grown in numbers as Alex unconsciously taken as their baby brother.

Besides, they had Hercules to be the mother hen.

Alex was embarrassed when he found out he was falling asleep in practically strangers’ house. He didn’t mean to, but everything was so warm, and he was full of delicious homemade food and expensive wine. And the lull of French words from the television reminded him of his Mama, not Martha, but Rachel Faucette Hamilton. He felt too comfortable snuggled between John and Lafayette, it was all a dangerous combination. Not to mention, he barely got any sleep he night night when he decided it was a good idea to write through the whole night.

When he woke up, it was morning already, he was still snuggled up under the warm blanket on the couch. He pushed himself up, watching the flurry that was John Laurens running all over the place.

“Alex! You wake up,” John grinned when he saw how groggy Alex was as he pulled down the blanket. “I’m sorry, I wish I could stay longer, but I’m almost late now. Laf and Herc already left for work, but they have breakfast already prepared for you,” John handed him a plate of pancakes tower. “And this one is for lunch, Herc said you need to eat more. Just heat it up before you eat it,” John handed a Tupperware container to Alex, who was still confused. “There’s still some coffee left in the pot, feel free to finish it. Here’s the apartment key, just lock it before you leave.”

Everything was too fast for Alex sleepy brain to catch up.

“I’ll see you later, Alex!”

And then he left.

Alex realized he was alone in strangers’ house. After letting him sleep on the couch, Hercules was kind enough to make him breakfast and lunch. And John trusted him enough to let him locked up the place. Alex’s stomach clenched when he felt the unfamiliar warmth as he ate the fluffy pancakes drenched in syrup slowly.

These people just took him in like this after knowing him for a short time.

Alex finished his pancakes and drank his coffee before he washed everything and tidied up the couch. He took the Tupperware with him and reminded himself to return it with the apartment’s key as he made his way back to his place.

His fingers were itching to write more.

Chapter Text

Alexander didn't know when or how the guys from apartment 1777 became his friends. Maybe it was when Lafayette helped him out in that supermarket, or maybe it was when they had the movie-slash-dinner where he accidentally fell asleep on their couch. Either way, they had taken him in without hesitation. They kept inviting him over for dinner, and if Alex didn’t come himself, Lafayette, John, or Hercules would certainly knock on his door. John would join them whenever he could, but sometimes he would have to work. He had a stricter schedule than Hercules and Lafayette. Lafayette worked with his own schedule, sometimes he would be busier when he was planning on having an art show, but he was pretty much making his own agenda. Last week, he was in Rome for work so Alex just had dinner with Hercules and John. Hercules worked for his family owned high end tailor shop, making custom suits and dresses for his exclusive clients, mostly celebrities. He worked from 9 o’clock to 5 o’clock. John worked at the hospital as an ER nurse. Compared to Lafayette’s, John’s schedule was more predictable, even though sometimes he had to work at crazy hours (not that Alex worked normal hours either).

But today, it was only Alex and Hercules, dining together (Hercules’ homemade lasagna was heavenly) while they ate they watched James Bond. Hercules loved James Bond and spy movies in general. John was at the hospital and Lafayette was out of town for a photo shoot.

Without Lafayette and John around, the conversation was more measured. Usually it would be filled with Lafayette gushing about his fiancée and John would talk about the shitty day he had at the hospital followed by long ranting and some cursing. With Hercules, the conversation was more of trading gossip. Hercules’ clients were often high profile so he always had fresh gossip about politics and celebrities. Alex enjoyed having a political discussion with Hercules, sometimes the conversations were about particular news he had heard from his clients visiting his shop or from the expensive coffee shop next door. Alex never talked about his work, and none of the 1777’s residences ever asked him about it. He still didn’t mention that he was the writer of the whole section of books in their bookshelves, something that still made him torn up between proud and embarrassed.

He was lucky that he never put his picture on the cover jacket of his books.

Alex made sure he didn’t fall asleep on the couch again, and he thanked Hercules for the delicious meal. Hercules just patted his head gently and told him to come again tomorrow since Lafayette would be coming home and they would have a feast.

When he returned to his apartment, he looked at his phone and saw another text from his mom asking about Thanksgiving. He was still conflicted about it. Sure, he missed his Mom and Dad, but he didn’t want to see the hateful looks from Jacky and indifferent looks from Patsy. He knew it was his fault how torn apart Jacky and George’s relationship became after he came to live with the Washingtons.

John Parke Custis was the stepson of George Washington. He was Martha’s son from her previous marriage to a rich businessman. But her husband died, and she inherited all of his fortune. She became a widow, with two children, John Parke Custis or Jacky, and Martha Parke Custis or Patsy. Jacky was five when George married Martha. After that, George became the father figure for Jacky. When Alex came to the Washington family, he was thirteen and Jacky was fifteen. Alex had just lost his family, and the Washingtons easily took him into theirs. They adopted him, and raised him as their own son.

Alex was young, he was scared being taken away from his new family who was nice to him. George might be busy with his work as a Senator, but he made sure he always had time for his children. Martha wasn’t exactly a stay at home mother either since she had her charities and social work to do, she still loved her children so much and just like George, she always had time for them. Alexander liked his adoptive siblings. Jacky was older, even though he could be mean, he always let Alex borrow his books. Patsy was younger and she didn’t talk a lot, but she let Alex help her with her homework. It was good at first, Alex had found himself a home and he was clinging on to it.

Until Alex showed his first book manuscript to his mother and gave it to her as her birthday present. The astonishment and pride in Martha’s eyes reassured Alex that they would never let him go. Alex never thought much about his writing before. He just wanted to put his thoughts onto paper and doing that formed a narrative. His first work told the story of his life before he came to the Washingtons, before he found a family of his own. Martha loved it. She cried when she hugged Alex, whispering how much she loved him. And in that moment, Alex knew he would do this again, writing and making his parents proud.

It was her idea to have his work published. Alex let her, and she sent it to one of the publishing houses she knew. Alex’s first book got published when he was still 14 and it quickly became a success. A. Hamilton became famous as a young writer, TV stations wanted to invite him to their talk shows, newspapers and magazines called for an interview. Martha and George ushered him away from the limelight since Alex was thought to be too young for that, they refused the TV interview, but they still let the reporters from magazines and newspapers interview him. Alex wanted to argue that his mind was older, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to lose his home. Not after how proud he had made his parents. Alex would cling onto this so he wouldn’t be alone, even though he knew it was ridiculous, he knew that the Washingtons wouldn’t throw him out of their house, but the fear was still there.

Martha and George made sure that he would still focus on his education. Alex didn’t mind. He could juggle his responsibilities just fine. His parents dotted on him, they were proud of him. They encouraged him to write more, George even bought him a new laptop to make it easier for Alex instead of using the desktop PC at home so he could write wherever he wanted. George and Martha even helped him finding a trusted literary agent for Alex when he told them he wanted to take his writing seriously.

That’s when the relationship between the Washingtons and their children started to crumbled. Jacky started making friends with the wrong people and got into trouble in school. Patsy was more quiet than before. Alex had taken all of his parent’s  attention for himself, he became the golden boy of the family, the one George and Martha were proud of.

He didn’t mean to.

He just wanted a place where he belonged, a family. He never meant to take Jacky and Patsy’s parents away from them. Alex was just scared his adoptive parents would leave if they knew Alex was nothing special. Alex thought that the only way to keep them from giving Alex up was to make them proud.

Alex was sixteen when he decided he would leave the Washingtons once he got to college. He got in with a scholarship so the costs wouldn’t burden his parents. With the money he had from writing, he would be able to support himself. Alex had written three books by that point, and all of them were successful. He kept writing because he knew it was the only way he could fix his family.

Maybe if he left Jacky would be closer to George again.

Maybe if he left Patsy would smile more.

When Alex closed his eyes, a vivid memory resurfaced in his mind. He was fifteen, and he was writing his new book. He found himself in George’s library for research. The library was huge, and not only filled with fiction collections, but a lot of nonfictional works. Mostly books about animals because George was always fascinated by them. Alex remembered a book about birds that he had found in George’s huge library in Mount Vernon. He couldn’t remember the title or the writer, but he just found that particular book amongst other books about dogs’ care (something else that George enjoyed). The book was thick and heavy, filled with information about birds from all over the world with glossy pages and colorful illustrations.  

Alex sat himself down and started reading it, opening the pages at random until he stumbled across a passage about the cuckoo bird. The book explained that there were a large minority of cuckoo engaged in brood parasitism, in which they lay their eggs in other bird’s nest. One of the original host’s eggs would be pushed out of the nest to make room for the new egg of the cuckoo, and the host parent would feed the cuckoo chick despite having one of their eggs smashed to the ground so that the cuckoo chick could grow. Even though this cuckoo chick had practically murdered one of their own children, the host parents would keep feeding it until it became larger than themselves and monopolized the whole nest.

He stopped reading the passage and just set down as the words sunk into his mind, inside the library, surrounded by books. At that moment, he realized something.

Alex was the cuckoo; the Washington’s house was the nest. And Jacky was the egg that he destroyed to create a place of his own.

Alex had his own messed up life and when he came to the Washingtons, he made a mess of their family.

And like a cuckoo bird, Alex left the nest behind once he could, after taking so much from it.

He knew it was better to be alone.

Alex stretched out on the couch after sitting for five hours writing. He was hungry and his stomach growled as he made his way to his kitchen. He made himself a peanut butter sandwich for lunch and a cup of coffee. He returned to his couch and checked his phone. Alex opened his social media accounts to see if he could find anything interesting. Nothing so far.

Tench texted him and told him the publisher wanted to release his book before Christmas, on the 24^th, Alex didn’t mind. His manuscript rarely needed some reworks anyways, since Alex always made sure it was perfect. Even if he was a bit late to his deadline, no one would mind it since it rarely needed major editing. Alex had his own reputation to uphold after all. Tench asked about his next work, but Alex still wasn’t sure. He just wrote whatever he wanted, he didn’t even bother to create a draft for this one.

He had worked with Tench for more than a decade, he knew his agent understood. Alex promised he would come up with something after New Years. As usual, Tench told him to take care of himself. The man had taken Alex as his own son, and Alex knew the man cared a lot about him. He was the golden goose after all, Alex thought to himself. Tench needed him to work, writing books after books so they would make money.

Alex returned to his laptop and started typing.

He only had writing  now.

Alex liked public speaking. He remembered how when he was in high school he always enjoyed debate. He wondered when he started to dislike it. He was a young writer, his books got adapted into movies and TV shows, and of course people would want to know about the man behind them. He liked when he got invited to schools or universities, talking to people about his writing, encouraging people to achieve their dreams. He didn’t enjoy the television talk shows that much, and always told his agent to refuse that offers.

When an e-mail came from Angelica Schuyler, an old college friend, asking him to join the writers panel at the university she worked at, he said yes. The panel would be about writing and diversity in literature.  At least he didn’t have to leave town for it, and he knew a lot of people in the panel (though he cringed when he saw a few names that he didn’t particularly like). James Madison (Alex liked his works, they collaborated once writing a novel and it was a huge success), Aaron Burr (Alex wondered why anyone bothered to invite Burr to talk about his opinion when he had none), Thomas Jefferson (Alex wondered why people kept reading his shitty works), Eliza Schuyler (Alex liked Eliza, and her works were always amazing—not to mention she was Angelica’s sister and one of the few people Alex could call his best friend), and Maria Lewis (Alex didn’t know much about her, but he often heard her name mentioned around).

After he agreed, he started to hunt down Madison’s books in his boxes in the library (he hadn’t got around to put them on his shelves). ‘Quid Pro Quo’, ‘Potomac’ and his short stories collection, ‘Highlights!’. These were a few books by Madison that Alexander liked. Not including the book they had been working together, and the biggest accomplishment in Alexander’s writing career, ‘5, 29, and the Other 51’. Even after five years, people still talked about that book and it never seemed to stop. Alex knew there would be a movie adaptation, and he knew one of the famous Hollywood directors was interested. He let Madison chose who directed it as Alex didn’t know much about movie directors or Hollywood in general.

He tried to find Burr’s book, and he found one, stuck deep inside the box, it was covered in cobwebs. Alex felt bad for Burr who must have worked hard for this one. It was Burr’s first book, and the only book he wrote that Alex liked. The title, ‘WAIT!’ was barely readable since the book hadn’t been touched for years and it looked battered. Alex remembered the coffee he accidentally poured on it when he was reading it.

It was easy to find Eliza’s works, all of them tucked carefully and nicely in another box. It wasn’t much, only three books, but all of them were great. ‘The Sky is the Limit’, ‘That Would be Enough’, and ‘When You were Mine’, all of them were phenomenal and Alex liked them despite him not liking many romance novels. But Eliza’s works were always fresh, funny, and heart-wrenching at the same time. He should call her sometime as it had been awhile since they last talked.

Jefferson’s books were the hardest to find in his boxes despite the fact that Alex owned all of them. Alex never bought them himself, several copies were a gift from his parents and his fans often sent them to him for some reason. In Alex’s opinion, all of them were stupid, pretentious, and they made him wonder if Jefferson had a France-kink since in all of his books there would be at least one French character (yes, Alex read all of them despite hating them, he believed he should read them to give his opinion about them). He found one of Jefferson's books, ‘Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness’. Alex cringed at the title. This man put a quote from the Declaration of Independence as the title of his book. There must be some law against it, but this was Jefferson, he never cared. The man answered his door in a bathrobe, and Alex once saw him wearing a pair of pajamas to a meeting with his agent (not that Alex stalked him or anything, but they happened to go to the same coffee shop back when Alex was in college).

He threw the book into his pile and carried them to the living room. He didn’t want to join the writers’ panel blind; at least he would try to familiarize himself with their works. He still had two months, and he could try to find Maria Reynolds’ works in the bookstore later.

He curled up on his couch and read Eliza’s books first.

It was weird to have dinner in apartment 1777 without Hercules as he was usually the constant for dinner time. But Lafayette was home, and so was John. Hercules had prepared food for four days so his roommates and Alex wouldn’t starve to death. The first Tupperware they opened was the lasagna, which only needed to be reheated before they ate it. John handled the task since Lafayette was a disaster in the kitchen. Alex helped John serve the lasagna on the plates.

“I saw you reading Thomas Jefferson’s book,” John said, motioning to the book Alex had brought along so he could read after the meal. “Never knew you were a fan.”

“Definitely not a fan,” Alex said. He found another book of Jefferson’s in his box, ‘Planting Seeds in the Ground’, the book he hated the most. The hard cover was bended after Alex threw it so hard to the wall the first time he read it. He was young. “I hate the book, but I decided to read it for work.”

“I really hate that book too,” John scoffed. “But I was glad he wrote it because now I can read ‘A Civics Lesson from a Slaver’ as the result, do you know that one?”

Alex blushed and nodded. “Yeah, I know it,” he mumbled. Of course he knew, he was the one who wrote it.

“Really loved it. It was like the counter-argument for romanticizing slavery in ‘Planting Seeds’. Smart and witty, very sarcastic,” John gushed about the book, making Alex hope that John wouldn’t turn around and see his face. He was making a weird face now, he could feel it. “I get the feeling that ‘A Civics Lesson’ was written out of pettiness after A. Hamilton read Jefferson’s book.”

Alex couldn’t deny it. He did write it because he thought Jefferson’s book was stupid. Tench almost had a heart attack when he came to him with a completely different manuscript than the one he was supposed to work on, but Alex told him he couldn’t work until this book published. And it wasn’t disappointing. Rivalry between Thomas Jefferson and A. Hamilton had been heard of before, but it got famous after these books. And even now, despite Alex’s protest, people kept saying reading ‘Planting Seeds in the Ground’ and ‘A Civics Lesson from a Slaver’ back to back would create an even funnier effect than reading each book by itself (Jefferson kept insisting his book wasn’t supposed to be funny, it was supposed to be bitter-sweet romance, Alex’s book was really a satirical fiction and subtle social commentary).

“Have you ever gone to one of Hamilton’s book events then?” Alex asked, suddenly feeling ashamed since it was basically him asking, ‘Do you like my books enough to make you go to meet me? Do you recognize me?’

“Never had the chance,” John sighed. “I planned to go once, but had to cancel it because Laf got into an accident. He crashed into a tree while riding a bicycle and got concussion. I was his emergency contact. It was a minor injury, but the doctor insisted that he stayed at the hospital for the night.”

Alex didn’t know if he should feel relieved or disappointed now. He felt bad for Lafayette for crashing into tree and getting a minor concussion, but he couldn't help but imagine the tall Frenchman in nice clothes riding a bicycle before crashing into a tree, he had to hold in his laugh.

“I have ‘A Civics Lesson’ in my bookshelves if you wanted to read it,” John offered.

“Oh, I’ve already read it,” Alexander said slowly. Of course he already read it, he was the one who wrote it! Then Alex got an idea. “Do you have Maria Lewis’ books though?”

“Maria Lewis? I’m not sure… But I think Laf has them? I’m not into her books that much,” John said. “Lafayette loves romance and contemporary YA novels. He cried with Hercules when they read ‘When You were Mine’ loudly to each other. I just sat there awkwardly,” John shrugged. “Let’s ask Laf.”

They returned to the living room where Lafayette was reading Alex’s book with a frown on his face.

“Mon petit lion, why in the world are you reading this terrible book?” he looked up to Alex who just handed him his share of lasagna. “Even the first chapter is—how you say—making my eyes bleeds!”

John just grinned at Alex and motioned to Lafayette. “See? Even a Jefferson’s fan thought that the book is horrible.”

“You like Jefferson’s books?” Alex asked Lafayette in horror.

“Eh, some of his works are interesting?”

“You just love it because he puts at least one French character in all of his books,” John snorted into his plate. “And your favorite is the one with the Declaration of Independence quotes as its title…”

“It’s so American! And it has a Frenchman as the main character! And still so American,” Lafayette said proudly. “But, I like that book too… The one you recommended to me, what was it call again…? Number, number something and another 21?”

“’5, 29, and the Other 51’,” Alexander corrected unconsciously. He just realized the conversation had turned to his work again.

“Oui! That’s the one,” Lafayette nodded. “I like it a lot.”

“Even though you couldn’t remember the title,” John grinned.

“John said you might have Maria Lewis’ books?” Alex asked quickly to steer the conversation away from his book (technically it was his and Madison’s, but Alexander still wrote the majority of it).

Lafayette frowned as he tried to remember. “Oh, right! I bought some when I was going to Beijing last year for light reading,” Lafayette nodded. “She’s a new writer, still young. Only wrote three books so far, all part of a series,” Lafayette explained. He got up from the couch and went to his section on the bookshelves. “Let’s see…” he mumbled. “This one,” he took one book, “And these two,” he took two others and handed them to Alex.

Alex smiled hopefully. “Can I borrow them?” he asked.

“Sure,” Lafayette nodded. “The first book is a bit slow, but it started to pick up after book two. You will want to punch the male protagonist though,” Lafayette grinned while Alexander frowned at the tiny spoiler.

They didn’t watch movie that night as they had dinner together, instead they were having book discussion. Alex let Lafayette and John talked about the books they read, they even got into heated debate about whether Aaron Burr was really dating Theodosia Prevost, the actress who was already married (Alex knew that Burr did date her, the man told Alex so when they met at the Christmas party that was hosted by the publishing company, attendance were mandatory). Alex kept steering the conversation away from A. Hamilton as much as he could. It was hard.

When Alexander returned to his apartment, he already had a huge stack of books he didn’t actually need to read. But John and Lafayette looked so happy, especially John as he shared his opinions about the books he owned. Alex could feel the warmth in his stomach as John proudly showed him his complete collection of A. Hamilton (Alex knew none of the book had his portrait on the biography part, except for his first book—but then again, Alex was 14, he changed a lot after over a decade). He smiled softly, wondering what he could do to show his thanks to John, Lafayette, and Hercules with all their hospitality. He remembered the boxes of expensive chocolate his fans sent his way after he blurted out he never tried that kind of chocolate before in his Twitter. Hercules and Lafayette looked like the guys who would appreciate such thing, and John was the type to eat any food in front of him.

Alex felt a bit guilty of keep coming to the 1777 and had dinner for free. He had been trying to bring the subject about him paying his share of meal, but Lafayette almost bit his fingers off, John smacked his head, and Hercules scolded him about how he shouldn’t think like that. Alex just realized the occupants of apartment 1777 had adopted him now as part of their weird family with Hercules as the single mom who just wanted to feed her son (a.k.a Alexander). Alex loved the apartment and the inhabitants. They were warm and dazzling together under the living room lights, curling up around each other and watching movies or simply lounging together. Alex envied the sight. The closest thing he had as friends were Angelica, Eliza, Madison, and maybe Aaron Burr (he still wasn’t sure, Burr was always weird). But he was never that close with them and never had the same sort of camaraderie with them like John, Lafayette, and Hercules had.

As Alex curled on the couch in his empty apartment, he was falling deeper into his thought.

The books from John and Lafayette left untouched on the coffee table.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” John asked the question while they were having dinner together as usual. Alexander realized that Thanksgiving would be next week and he still hadn’t answered his mother’s question.

“I’m going home,” Hercules said since his parents lived in the city. “What about you?” he asked Lafayette.

“I guess I’m staying here?” Lafayette looked at John. “Would you return to South Carolina?”

John scoffed. “As if. My Father would throw me out before I even stepped inside. I guess I’ll be here with Lafayette then. What about you, Alex?”

“I think I’ll just stay here too,” he said slowly.

“Well, I had hoped that I would be able to invite all of you to my family’s, but my mother invited annoying cousin #1 just like last year, and I doubt you want to deal with him again this year,” Hercules smiled apologetically. Lafayette and John scoffed at the idea of Hercules’ annoying cousin.

“What happened?” Alex asked curiously.

“Last year, Hercules invited Laf and me to join his family for Thanksgiving. Of course we agreed, since we know Mama Mulligan really well,” John explained. “What we didn’t know was Herc’s cousin also came. Long story short, we got into conversation at the dinner table and he asked about Laf and I. Of course the conversation turned into our jobs, with me being a nurse and Lafayette a photographer. And then he proceeded to tell Laf to get a real job despite between the three of us he might have had the highest pay, and he told me being a nurse is a woman’s job,” John sneered in distaste. “And then the fight broke out, poor Mama Mulligan,” John sighed, looking guilty.

“Thus, I can’t invite you this year,” Hercules sighed in disappointment. “My mom was looking up to see you again though…”

“Aww, we can visit after your cousin left then,” Lafayette chuckled. “And maybe we can bring Alex along.”

“That’s a good idea!” John nodded in agreement.

Alex just went along with the conversation. John and Lafayette invited Alex to have the Thanksgiving dinner together in the apartment since they had nowhere else to go. Hercules agreed to cook them something before he left for his parents’ house as usual. Alex never really enjoyed Thanksgiving with anyone outside his family since he left home for college. He still rarely went home, the only Holiday he went home to his adoptive family was for Christmas since Martha loved it and she always wanted the whole family together. Alex couldn’t refuse his Mom for this one always relented and tried his best to avoid Jacky.

Alex couldn’t help but feel grateful for the invitation. He would text Martha about the change of plans and to assure her he would be home for Christmas as usual. He used to spend his holiday alone, with pizza and work, but this time, he had friends to be with.

Alex blushed shyly when the warm fuzzy feeling bloomed again in his stomach.

“I can’t come home this year, Mom,” Alexander told Martha over the phone. His fingers were fiddling nervously with the hem of his sweater. “I got invited to dinner by my neighbors, remember the guys who live right across the hall?”

Martha Washington sighed softly over the phone.

“It’s okay, Alex. I’m really glad you that won’t spend your holiday working like last year, but with someone instead,” her voice always sounded calming for Alex. Martha Washington might have small stature, the exact opposite of her husband, but she was a force to be reckoned, with a patience of a saint. “Your friends, they didn’t go home for holiday, though?”

“Lafayette’s only family was in France and John isn’t very keen on going to South Carolina. You still remember Senator Laurens, right? Henry Laurens? Republican, homophobic, all-gay-people-should-go-to-hell, Henry Laurens?”

“Yes, I remember him. He’s quite popular in the Senate and his party,” of course his mother would remember. George was a Senator after all, and he was quite popular in Democratic Party.

“Well, John Laurens is his son. They have quite rocky relationship,” Alex explained. “So, it will be me, Lafayette, and John. Hercules will cook before he headed to his parents’ house.”

“I see,” his mom said over the phone. Alex knew she was disappointed he couldn’t come to Mount Vernon and join everyone for Thanksgiving dinner. “So, how are you, Alex? Are you well? I know you always get sick once the temperature drops and you’re always lacking sleep.”

Alex smiled as the conversation turned about his health now. Alex assured her he was fine, he ate well with the constant invitation to join Laf, Herc, and John for dinner. His mother was worried it would burden his neighbors too much, but Alex explained about him wanting to pay for his share of the meal and  got bitten and then lectured about it. He found another way to pay by bringing food items instead, like the weird melon he found on the internet and impulsively bought it and gave it to Hercules. Turned out, it was the best tasting fruit they ever eaten. Too bad he couldn’t find it anywhere else. But Alexander decided he would just come with some gifts he bought to be shared with the occupants of 1777 since they refused to accept money.

The call ended with Martha telling him to not neglect eating and sleeping. She was happy when Alex informed her about his work, and she couldn’t wait to brag about Alex’s new book in book club once it got published. His mom was always his biggest fan, his very first fan in fact, and it warmed his heart so much. He felt better now that he had talked to her.

It was easy to get himself back into his work again as he had an idea for his next book. He had been looking through his library to find research material and made a list of books he would need to buy. Alex loved the research part of his job, as he took notes and started to put down the ideas. The plot, the characters, he wrote everything down in his journal, and for once the sound that filled the room didn’t come from the clacking of the keyboard, but the soft scratch of his pen against the paper. He always found it easier to think when he wrote everything down by hand instead of typing it.

He didn’t know how long he had been working, probably a few hours, and when he looked out of his bare windows, he realized it was late. Usually, one of the 1777’s residents would knock on his door now—

And he was right. The loud obnoxious knock meant it was Lafayette. Alexander didn’t bother to fix his appearance when he opened the door and came face to face with the Frenchman, looking immaculate as usual. From the look of his getup, Alex could guess he just got home from a photo shoot for some fashion magazine. Lafayette only wore makeup for that type of work.

“Mon petit lion! You look terrible,” he tutted.

Alex realized how ridiculous he would look, with his rat nest hair and oily skin, the hoodie he wore was really old it had holes, and his sweatpants hung really low on his hips. Not his best look.

“I was caught up with work,” he said, motioned vaguely behind him.

“Well, you will come and join us for dinner. And you should take a shower too. You can use ours,” Lafayette said and patted his head.

“Okay,” Alex nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He quickly got his change of clothes before he followed Lafayette to 1777. He smiled when Lafayette opened the door, and the warm feeling seeped through his skin comfortably.

It was a good feeling.

Alexander always loved bookstores. Not because of the proud feeling he got watching his works on display (well, that too), but it was the very first memory he had of his mother. His biological mother, back in the Caribbean. He was still young; he couldn’t remember how old, but he could feel the ghost of her warm hand holding his. Delicate, yet calloused from all the hard work Rachel Faucette had to endure to raise her son.

His mother would bring him to the only bookstore on the island. They didn’t have a lot of money, but his Mother always spared some to buy Alex books, even if she could only afford the used ones, with battered covers or a few missing pages. Alex would read anything he could get his hands on; novels, biographies, anything. He just loved reading. He often spent his days in a small library, owned by an old man who used to be a professor in the States, which was always open for anyone in the town. Rachel Faucette couldn’t afford to buy her son more than a book each time they went into the bookstore, so Alex used the free library as much as he could.

Still, Alex loved the memory of going to a bookstore with his Mama. His Mama would let Alex chose any book he wanted, she would never say no to the book Alex had chosen. And Alex was a smart boy, he knew that they couldn’t afford to buy the nice looking collector edition books displayed in the glass case. He taught himself to find a book from the used books pile, sometimes he liked it better if the previous owner put some notes on the margins of the book. He found them helpful from time to time.

Now he was 25. He was no longer holding his Mama’s hand when he entered the bookstore. And the bookstore itself was no longer the small one they had back in the island. Alexander didn’t have to hold himself back by trying to find used books (though he still did sometimes). But the bookstore always brought him the memory of his Mama, of her telling young Alexander to find any book he wanted, and her warm hands guiding him carefully.

When he stepped inside, he greeted the owner with a nod. The owner of this particular store knew who he was, and he was always nice and helpful when Alex tried to find any particular book.

“How can I help you today, Mr. Hamilton?” he asked once Alex was close enough.

“I’m looking for these books,” Alex gave him the list he had put down on a piece of paper.

“Research for your new book?” the owner grinned.

“You can say that,” Alex nodded. “Do you have them?”

“Of course. I’ll get them for you. Feel free to look around, Sir,” the owner went to the backroom to get the books on the list. Alexander decided to roam around the store, looking through the new releases. He smiled when he saw familiar names written on the covers. He cringed when he saw another one of Jefferson’s book on display. A collection of his unpublished works, it made Alex wonder why he decided to publish it then. His hand reached for the hardcover version of the book. It was thick, he could hurt someone and send them to the hospital if he threw this at them. ‘Have You Read This? : A Collection of Unpublished Essays, Poems, and Others’ written in metallic purple, with Jefferson’s face plastered on the cover. Alex had an urge to buy this so he could doodle on Jefferson’s face with a sharpie.

He was petty and childish, sue him.

He set the book aside and browsed some more. Madison published another book as well, ‘He Obfuscates, He Dances’. Alex remembered that it had been awhile since he heard anything from Madison and reminded himself to e-mail him later. He took the book along with him to the register where the owner already got his books. He added Madison’s to the pile and waited while he scanned his purchases.

He walked back with an armful of books, smiling softly as he remembered the young boy from years ago would walk out clutching a battered book his Mama bought for him.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Alex didn’t know what he was expecting when he returned to his apartment. But he was sure it certainly wasn’t this as he stepped out of the elevator and onto his floor. A man was standing in front of the door of his apartment, looking like he had been there for a while. Alexander would recognize the dark brown curls and brown eyes anywhere.

He could never guess that he would see Jacky standing in front of his apartment door.

Jacky turned around when he heard the elevator door open. He smirked when he saw Alex stepping out of the doors, Alex’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw him there.

“Hello, Alexander,” Jacky smiled.

“Jacky,” Alex nodded stiffly. “I didn’t know that you were in town…”

Jacky shrugged. “I’m here visiting my girlfriend,” he said simply. “Would you invite me in, Alexander?”

Alex clutched his books tightly to calm himself down. He didn’t like the way Jacky said his name, he never did. He suddenly felt cold when he saw Jacky still smiling at him, a smile that never reached his eyes. Alex looked down, calming himself down before he answered.

“Alex? You’re home already?” another voice came from the door at the end of the hallway. The door for apartment 1777 was opened, and John Laurens was standing with his bag on his shoulder. From the look of it, John was on his way to work.

“John…” Alex looked up to his neighbor, suddenly felt relieved when saw John for some reason. John walked up to him with a small smile on his face as he looked at Jacky before he turned his attention back to Alex.

“Are you okay, Alex? You look pale,” he said gently and checked on him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alex said quickly. “Are you on your way to the hospital?”

“Yup. It looks like you will be having dinner with Laf and Herc unless you have got other plans?” he eyes Jacky curiously.

Alex let out a small smile. “I’ll text them later,” Alex answered vaguely. He still wasn’t sure why or how long Jacky would be staying.

“Okay. Take care,” he patted Alex cheek gently before he left. Alex watched him entered the elevator and nodded at John’s smile and small waves. He waited until the elevator door closed before he turned to Jacky and sighed. “Let’s go inside,” he said slowly. Alex opened his apartment door and let Jacky enter.

Alex carried his books and set them on his coffee table which already covered with his notes and books for his work. “You can sit on the couch,” Alex motioned as he went to the kitchen to find something to drink.

“Your apartment is empty,” Jacky stated, settling on the couch and glancing at all the papers on the coffee table. “Who was that guy before? Boyfriend?”

“My neighbor,” Alex answered shortly. “He and his roommates often invite me over for dinner.” He handed a glass of water to Jacky.

“Hmm…” Jacky didn’t say anything as he studied Alex notes without touching them. “He has roommates then?”

“Yeah. Two. They were friends from college,” Alex said, wasn’t sure where these questions would lead him.

“They must be close then,” Jacky mumbled. “They must be very kind to take you in.”

“They’re good people.”

Alex always felt awkward around Jacky. After everything that happened back when they were younger and the mess Alex created in the family, Jacky always made him felt awkward and he knew it. Alex expected him to be in DC or maybe somewhere in Las Vegas for all he knew.

The Washington family was rich, Martha’s late husband owned several companies which she inherited and took over after her husband’s death. After Martha married George, they combined their fortune as George’s family was made of old money in Virginia. Martha put people in charge of the companies while holding the majority of the shares. Jacky knew that he didn’t have to work with how the businesses thrived; he mostly spent his time trying to dabble in random businesses unsuccessfully. Nowadays Jacky was living the life of rich socialite as the son of a senator and the heir of the companies.

George had given up trying to control his stepson, as long as he didn’t cause a huge scandal he was free to do whatever he pleased. Besides, Jacky was old enough to take care of himself.

And now he was sitting on Alex’s old couch, drinking water in silence.

“So… your girlfriend moved here?” Alex tried to start a conversation since the silence was unbearable. “Isn’t she like a singer… from California, right?”

“We broke up,” Jacky shrugged. “My new girlfriend, Eleanor, lives in the city. Her family owns a real estate company in Maryland. You must have heard of them, the Calverts.”

Alex had heard that name before, something about company merging, he remembered reading an article on the news site. So Jacky was dating an heiress.

“I see,” Alex nodded. “Why are you here, Jacky?” He was curious. Surely Jacky would have a reason to come to him, and he was pretty sure this wasn’t just a social visit.

“Can’t a man check on his younger brother after years of him leaving home?” Jacky smirked, looking up from his seat to Alex who was still standing aside, hand crossed over his chest.

“You’re not here to check up on me,” Alex sighed and sat down as far away as he could from Jacky on the couch. He curled up on the couch out of habit.

Jacky just shrugged. “I’m staying here tonight. Which one is the bedroom?” Jacky pushed himself up and looked at the three doors. He didn’t wait for an answer, he just opened the first door on the right and smiled. “Bingo,” he found the bedroom. “I need to borrow your clothes.”

Alexander sighed and got up to go to his closet and get some clothes for his adoptive brother. There was no way he could join Lafayette and Hercules for dinner tonight. He returned to the couch and texted Lafayette before he called for takeout.

And then he waited.

Alex didn’t sleep that night.

He laid awake, confused for why his adoptive brother came to his place out of nowhere. His relationship with Jacky wasn’t the best. He still remembered the hateful frown Jacky had thrown at him every time Dad and Mom gave him praise for his work. Alex was just trying to be a good boy, a good son. He did what he knew would make his Mama proud, because he was hoping it would also make the Washingtons proud. Losing his Mama wasn’t easy. He still remembered the frail, too thin arms wrapped around him as the fever made him delirious, yet his Mama kept whispering gentle words to make him feel better despite her own fever weakening her.

He could feel when his Mama stopped moving, stopped living, and her arms slowly getting cold and he was clinging to her for dear life because he didn’t want to let her go. He kept holding onto her because she was the only one left. His uncle found him, and pried him off of his Mama’s cold body while Alex was screaming and crying, begging to stay with her.

When he got better, his uncle told him he would live with his cousin, because, just like his Mama, his uncle was poor and he couldn’t take Alex with him. What they didn’t know was his cousin’s mental state wasn’t exactly right to care for Alex at that moment. And after he lost his job, he took his own life, leaving Alex all alone. He was put into the system until he met George Washington and his wife who were on vacation at the moment in that tiny island.

They adopted him, giving him a new house and family, something that Alex would fight tooth and nails to hold on to. Back then, he didn’t realize he just pushed aside Jacky to make a place of his own.

“You don’t have anything, Alexander. You don’t have friends, you don’t have family, you don’t have a home. You have nothing. You are nothing. I’m tired of watching you clinging pathetically to MY father and MY mother. You mess up everything you touch. Why do you think YOUR father left? YOUR mother died? Why do you think YOUR cousin shot himself?! You’re a parasite, Alexander. You take, and you take, and you take. You’re killing MY family.”

Alex closed his eyes and curled into his blanket when Jacky’s voice from that night started  ringing loudly in his head. He destroyed things. He messed things up.

So he put some distance between himself and the Washingtons  to save whatever was left of the their family. He left their big house, started to fend for himself. His place in that house had destroyed their son, distanced their daughter. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have sat in the front yard of the orphanage when George and Martha walked by. He should have said “No” when George and Martha asked him to live with them. He should’ve never given his first written book to Martha for her birthday. He should have said “No” when Martha asked if she could send the manuscript to a publisher. He should have been just an ordinary boy back then, and maybe…

Maybe…

Alex took a deep breath as he opened his phone. Lafayette had texted him back saying it was okay if he had other plans and couldn’t join them for dinner.

John was probably still on his shift back at the hospital.

He wondered if he could call John, if the man wasn’t busy. They could just talk. And he missed Hercules’ homemade dinner. Lafayette said they were having meatloaf tonight. Alex knew Hercules’ meatloaf would just be as heavenly as his lasagna.

“You will ruin them too, Alexander.”

Alex jumped out of his skin when he heard that voice coming from behind the couch. He quickly sat up to see Jacky was already dressed in his expensive coat and suits from the day before. Alex realized it was already early in the morning.

“You ruin everything you touch, just like what you will do to those neighbors of yours,” Jacky smirked. “I’m leaving now. If Dad calls, tell him I was with you. Goodbye, Alexander.”

And just like that he left.

Alexander sat alone in his empty apartment, suddenly feeling colder than he ever had.

“Alex isn’t coming over for dinner again?” John asked Lafayette and Hercules, it had been two days since the last time he saw Alex in front of his apartment talking to a guy John had never seen around before. Alex hadn’t joined them for dinner for a couple of days now, Lafayette and Hercules had gone to his apartment to get him, but his door was locked and no one answered. He didn’t reply to their messages, his apartment was dark, making them wonder if Alex had gone somewhere and not told them. They were sitting on the couch as usual, eating dinner while watching movies.

“Last text he sent telling me he couldn’t come because he had other plans, and then he asked about what Herc made, and said it sounded really good,” Lafayette sighed. “I tried to call him last night, he didn’t answer his phone nor his door. And he doesn’t go out much, so I don’t know.”

“Do you think it has something to do with that guy?” John muttered as he shoved his food into his mouth.

“What guy?” Hercules raised an eyebrow.

“I saw him talking to a guy In front of his apartment. I’m not sure who he was though his face looked pretty familiar,” John sighed. “But I’m really worried about how Alex acted when I saw him…”

“What?” Lafayette asked curiously.

“He looked… scared? I guess… I’m not sure. But Alex clearly wasn’t comfortable,” John mumbled as he tried to remember Alex’s face back then. “He was like… being cornered or something…”

“Like being blackmailed? Bullied? Threatened?” Lafayette raised an eyebrow.

“Not sure,” John sighed. “But I don’t like it. The guy looked… wrong.” John remembered the guy’s posture, looming over Alex’s small frame as he held onto his books tighter and curled into himself defensively. It made John’s blood boiled at the recollection.

Lafayette and Hercules exchanged looks before they turned back to their friend. “Say, how do you feel about Alex, mon ami?” Lafayette asked curiously.

“Huh?” John frowned as he looked at Lafayette. “What do you mean?”

“We see the way you look at him, John. You get that look every time you see someone you like,” Lafayette said gently, patting his shoulder. “You sparkle when ever mon petit lion is around.”

“Little lion?” John looked at his friend and smiled. “Alex is little, yes, but a lioni?”

“Just you wait, mon ami. Eventually, our little lion will roar,” Lafayette chuckled. “We just need to unlock him first. And nice try diverting the subject,” Lafayette winked. “So, your feelings”

John sighed as he slumped further into the couch before he answered. “I don’t know. I just… feel like I want to protect him…” he remembered the scared look on Alex’s eyes, and the awkward demeanor the first time they invited him for dinner. “I know he’s been through a lot… And I want to protect him…”

He wasn’t sure if he should call the feeling ‘love’, but John didn’t need a name for it. He just knew he cared for Alex, and he would do anything to keep him from anything that would hurt him.

Though he wouldn’t deny that he thought Alexander was cute.

Chapter Text

Lafayette wondered if seeing Alex in the grocery stores again was some kind of freaky fate thing. He was pushing his cart through the aisle when he saw Alex, he was contemplating in front of the cereals, probably thinking about which one he should buy. It had been days since Alex last  joined them for dinner, and tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Lafayette wondered if Alex would still join them after the radio silence. He sighed when he saw Alex filling his cart with unhealthy food, again.

“Alex,” He called out once they were close enough.

Alex’s head snapped up, his eyes widened when he saw Lafayette was standing there.

“Lafayette…” Alex mumbled.

Lafayette wanted to scold him, but the guilty and vulnerable look on Alex’s face stopped him. The shorter man had curled into himself, so Lafayette smiled.

“It’s been awhile, mon ami,” he chuckled. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Alex mumbled, his fingers played with the hem of his sweater.

“We have missed you,” Lafayette said casually. “Herc wonders if you are eating alright, I mean, you’re all skin and bones and he’s determined to fatten you up. We love to have you around,” Lafayette patted his head gently. “John is also worried, we have been trying to talk to you, but it doesn’t seem like you have been at your apartment.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled.

“Not your fault, mon petit lion,” Lafayette said simply. “But tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and Herc is planning on making this huge feast for the three of us before he leaves. How about you join us? It would be a waste since I doubt John and I will be able to eat everything…”

Alex blushed lightly and Lafayette had to restrain himself from cooing since he looked so adorable. “I’ll… I’ll be there…” Alex said softly.

“Good! I’ll tell Herc and John, then,” Lafayette nodded in satisfaction.

The two of them continued their shopping before Lafayette drove them back to their apartment. Alex still looked a bit uneasy, but his body seemed more relaxed now. Lafayette didn’t know what happened to Alex, but he was sure he would find out once Alex was ready.

Alex didn’t know why he returned to apartment 1777. After Jacky left, his words kept echoing in Alex’s head, drowning him, muffling any sound. Alex ruined everything he touched, even his own family. If he was a better son, his father would’ve stayed. If he wasn’t sick, his Mama wouldn’t have gotten sick either. If his cousin didn’t take him in, maybe he would still be alive. So many if’s and maybe’s could happen. Alex spent his day walking around the city, without any particular direction.

He just knew he had to get out before his thoughts engulfed him.

He had to walk it off.

And suddenly, the warmth of apartment 1777 and its tenants, of Hercules cooking, of Lafayette’s smile, and John’s presence seemed far away already. And he found himself back in his empty and cold room, eating frozen food instead of the homemade meatloaf Hercules made. He was sitting on his empty couch instead of tucked in between John and Lafayette.

He convinced himself this was better.

He could still write.

He had always been alone anyways.

But now, here he was standing in front of apartment 1777 with an expensive bottle of wine in his hands. He didn’t know why he had dressed nice, but his body told him this was better. Yet his mind screamed at him  to leave them alone and return to his apartment before he also ruined these people.

Alex’s touch ruined every—

“Alex! You’re here!” his thought was cut short with the sight of John opening the door. His hair was tied in low ponytail as usual, his smile was still cheerful. John always felt like light; warm, bright, he sparkled under the light of the living room. And Alex was standing there, unmoving, basking in every bit of that light he could get.

“What are you doing, just standing there, mon ami? Come in!” Lafayette’s voice always loud and cheery, and when he pulled Alex into his arms in a crushing hug, Alex wanted to cling on to him and never let go.

Hercules was standing behind them, a safe presence of comfort and reassurance. Just like Lafayette, the huge man pulled Alex into his own version of crushing hug and ruffled his hair affectionately.

Alex sighed. He missed this.

Alex’s stomach felt full already.

He felt warm.

John Laurens was happy with his life. He had great friends, he had a job he wanted instead of following the path his father had chosen for him, his life was great. Sure, when working as a nurse he wasn’t paid as much as a lawyer would be, but it was the road he had chosen for himself. He’d like to think of it as a one last “Fuck you!” after he told his father that he was gay and left for college. John was a hard worker, he was smart enough to get a scholarship. He worked at a coffee shop where he later met Lafayette and Hercules, and the three of them became best friends and roommates.

They stayed in New York, and decided to keep being roommates to afford the nice apartment. Hercules worked in a high end custom tailor shop his family owned, and Lafayette was making a name for himself.

His life was great.

And then it became even better when he saw Alexander sitting in the living room for the first time, settled between Lafayette and Hercules, clutching his plate looking all skittish and awkward and he was looking at John. His hair was pulled into a bun, hastily tied, making several strands fell, framing his face. His eyes were expressive, although the dark shadows underneath marred his youthful face, John guessed he was a few years younger than himself, or maybe it was the effect from the oversized hoodie he wore that night. Either way, John decided he wanted to protect this man. Whatever it would be from, he didn’t care. He just wanted to wrap those thin shoulders in a blanket and hold him close.

John was happy when they decided to bring Alex into their “family”. He never asked questions because he didn’t want to scare Alex away. Lafayette and Hercules decided it didn’t matter who Alex was, as far as they concerned, Alex was their neighbor. He lived alone and rarely went out unless it was for a walk or a short shopping trip.

And Alex himself fit easily into their life. He might have been quiet and a bit skittish the first time he came over, but John could see his shell starting to crack. He was opinionated, and he knew a lot about literature. John could see his face lit up when the conversation stirred into books, and he really hated Jefferson.

And then, John remembered the man he saw standing with Alex in front of his apartment door. Just from one look, John knew that man was wrong. The way he was looming over Alex, not touching, but still intimidating, and Alex was curling up to himself defensively. If John wasn’t on his way to work, he would’ve invited Alex along to get away from the man. But Alex told him he was fine.

Clearly he wasn’t.

John should’ve listened to his instinct because it had been a few days and he hasn’t once seen Alex. The man just… vanished without a word or any sort of notification. His apartment was dark whenever John walked past it. He didn’t know if Alex had locked himself inside or if he left to go somewhere else. It wasn’t clear. But he knew something had happened after John left Alex to talk to the man.

He knew that he said he didn’t want to pry into Hamilton’s life, but he needed to know about that man. Who was he? An old friend? A boyfriend? Someone from work?

He wanted to ask, and he couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore. He might have to burst the comfort bubble when Alex was tucked between him and Lafayette after their Thanksgiving dinner, John thought as they sat together around the small dinner table (contrary to popular belief, they do have a dinner table, they just rarely use it. Thanksgiving dinner sounded like a perfect opportunity to actually use it). Hercules had outdid himself with the turkey, John wondered what would happen to them if Hercules wasn’t around (maybe they would have starved to death or ordered takeout every day until they were sick of it).

The conversation went pleasantly. Lafayette talked to them mostly, about his plan to visit South-East Asia next year, rambling about the photo exhibition he was planning with this theme. Alex just nodded, giving short comments to him while still looking awkward. John was happy that Lafayette bumped into Alex in the supermarket and managed to invite him to dinner again. But John easily noticed the tension in Alex’s posture, as if he felt awkward after his disappearance.

After they were done with dinner, they relocated to the couch where Lafayette turned the TV on and settled on some random channel in Spanish. As usual, Alex tucked between John and Lafayette. John took a deep breath before he looked at Alex.

“Can I ask you something?” John started slowly.

“Hm?” Alex looked up to him, his head was resting on Lafayette’s arm.

“The man… the one I saw in front of your apartment a few days ago,” he felt Alex tense slightly, but John continued on. “Who was he?”

Alex didn’t say anything, but John could feel him fidgeting slightly beside him, probably feeling uncomfortable.

“He was my brother,” Alex said in the end.

“I see,” John decided to not pursue farther, he just wrapped his arms around Alex protectively. John had to admit, Alex and the man didn’t look like brothers. Not only by appearances, but their interactions were also anything but brotherly. There was something going on between Alex and his brother, but John knew it wasn’t his place to pry. If Alex wanted to tell him, he would listen. But he would not pry into it.

Lafayette sensed that Alex was uncomfortable he diverted the conversation easily. “My Adrienne is coming to town for Christmas,” he said loudly, bragging to his two friends. It quickly turned the conversation somewhere else.

“Who’s Adrienne?” Alex asked curiously.

“My fiancée,” Lafayette said proudly. “She works in Paris, but her boss gave her extended vacation and she decided that she would come to New York instead of having me visit her like usual,” he explained.

“Sounds fun,” John chuckled. “You can finally meet Lafayette’s fiancée, Alex. And I assure you, she is not just a figment of Laf’s overly active imagination.”

“From how perfect she sounds from Laf’s description, I had no choice but to suspect it as it was,” Alex chuckled softly and snuggled up to John. “She must be a saint to be able to stay with Lafayette for so long despite the distance.”

“My Adrienne is perfect. Do you want to see her pictures?” Lafayette never missed a chance to gloat about his beloved.

The conversation continued on until John felt Alex lean heavily against him and snore softly. John smiled as he made Alex more comfortable and let him sleep through the night.

Alex had been staring at his phone for a while now. It was an early morning in the middle of December, and Alex was bundled up on his couch feeling too lazy to move. He had started to make his apartment more homely, and by that he meant he had started to arrange his books on the shelves. He still hadn’t gotten the curtains for the windows, or a bed for the guest room. He was busy with his work, and he already had everything planned out for his next book. But last night, a text came in from an old friend he hadn’t seen for quite some time.

Elizabeth Schuyler asked him if he would be home, she was in New York to visit her father. Alex knew Eliza from her sister, Angelica, who was a friend from college. Her father, Philip Schuyler, was a Senator from New York, and George knew him well. Not to mention, Eliza was also a writer, just like Alex, though she wasn’t as productive as she was busy with her other job, running a private orphanage and several charities took up most of her time. Eliza was one of few people he would consider his friend. Sure, he had been out of contact with Eliza since he moved to this apartment, but it was more because Alex was busy with his job and Eliza with hers.

He wondered why she suddenly asked. Maybe she just wanted to meet up, so Alex responded, saying he would be home today. He set his phone down and started to work for a few hours before he heard someone knock on his door. Alex got up and walked to the front door, he didn’t bother to check before he opened it.

A young woman stood in front of him, dressed in fashionable off-white coat. Her dark hair was pulled into a half ponytail underneath a baby blue beanie that she had on. Alex easily recognized her as Eliza Schuyler, smiling brightly when she met Alex’s gaze.

“Alex!” she greeted him cheerfully, hugging him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I really missed you,” she pulled away and squeezed Alex’s arms as if she was checking him for injury or any other sickness. “You got thinner…” she frowned.

“Eliza,” Alex sighed softly. “Wait… How did you find my address?”

“Well, aren’t you going to let me in first?” Eliza asked, she was always sweet.

“Sure,” Alex nodded and let her in quickly. Suddenly he felt embarrassed with the state of his place, despite not having too much furniture, his couch and coffee table were a complete mess and he still hadn’t bought curtains. Eliza looked around, but didn’t say anything before she turned her attention back to Alex.

“I met Mrs. Washington at the last fundraiser in DC. I asked her about you and she said you weren’t home for Thanksgiving. She gave me your address so I can visit you since I’ll be in New York for a while,” Eliza explained. “How are you doing, Alex?” she asked.

“I’m fine, Eliza. Working on my next book,” Alex nodded at the table.

“You really do write like you’re running out of time,” Eliza sighed fondly. “I never understood how you do that,” she shook her head.

Alex shrugged. “It’s the only thing I have, Eliza,” he just smiled at her. That was the only thing he could do and not fuck it up.

“Well, now we should go shopping,” Eliza announced. “Your apartment needs a few things and I want to give you a housewarming gift,” she said. Without waiting for Alex’s permission, she walked around the apartment, checking every room to see what they would need. She smiled knowingly when she saw that the library was the only room that looked less empty with all the shelves filled and collections of books that kept growing. “After that, we can have lunch with Angelica.”

“Angelica?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Now take a shower, change your clothes, we’re going out.”

The shopping went well. They bought curtains for the windows, lots of kitchen equipment that Eliza insisted he would need, and a TV. Eliza said the TV was the housewarming gift from her, Angelica, and basically the Schuyler clan. Eliza made sure that everything was to be sent to the apartment so they didn’t have to carry everything around by themselves.

They went to a small Cuban restaurant for lunch, where Angelica would meet up with  them. She was already waiting when Alex and Eliza arrived. Just like her sister, Angelica was stunning, dressed sharply, making Alex wonder if she just got here from the university. She was older than Alex, even though they finished college at the same time. Through Angelica, Alex knew Eliza, and their youngest sister, Peggy.

“Alex, you haven’t called me since you moved into your new apartment and that was like two months ago,” Angelica pulled him into a bone-crushing hug and kissed his cheek. “What in the world, young man?” she frowned.

“I e-mailed you the RSVP for the writers’ panel…” Alex said.

Angelica just glared at him. “You’re in New York, I’m in New York. We should meet up more often,” she sighed. “Tell him, Eliza.”

“Sorry, I have so much work to do,” Alex sighed. “My new book will be released the day before Christmas.”

“Another? Didn’t you just publish two works earlier this year?” Angelica raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. A novel and essay collection,” Alex shrugged.

“Have you ever taken a break, Alex? You’re gonna kill yourself,” Angelica shook her head. “Even Thomas gets worried about you.”

“Stevens?”

“Jefferson.”

“Thomas fucking Jefferson? Worried about me?” he snorted. Of all the people in the world who might be worried about him (including the fans, the haters, the people who had never read his books or heard his name), Thomas Jefferson would never cross his mind. Sure, he had known Thomas for a very long time, and the first time he knew the man was when he started to live with the Washingtons. Jefferson was an old family friend to the Washingtons, in fact, Thomas’ wife, Martha, was a good friend of Martha Washington. The first time they met, Alex was 13 and Thomas was in his late twenties and already a famous author. Their first meeting wasn’t exactly the best as far as Alex could remember.

“Yeah. I gave him your book… ‘How to Say Goodbye’, I think? And I have to admit it’s a good book, but Thomas was like, ‘Is Hamilton feeling okay?’ after he finished the first chapter,” Angelica explained with a knowing smirk.

Alex scoffed. “First of all, there’s no way Jefferson said that,” Alex said. “And second, why would he care?”

“Well, I was paraphrasing,” Angelica said. “The two of you can say how much you hated each other, but I know you actually care,” she smiled smugly.

“You know nothing, Angelica,” Alex scoffed. “And stop talking about Jefferson, you ruined my appetite.”

The two sisters laughed and shook their heads. Alex would always be Alex.

Eliza followed him after lunch, saying she would help Alex with the curtains and cleaning out his apartment since she thought Alex was too helpless to be trusted by himself. Well, Alex was supposed to work anyways, and he had spent more time shopping and at lunch than he was planning to, so having Eliza helping him would make the work go by faster.

When they arrived at the apartment, Alex went to the building security, asking for his stuff that had been delivered, the building security had received everything since no one was in the apartment. With Eliza’s help, they managed to get everything together into the elevator before they went to Alex’s floor. Eliza looked so proud at the sight of the TV they just bought. It wasn’t exactly big since Alex rarely watched it anyway, but it was good for background noise.

The two of them managed to haul everything to Alex’s door while he found his key in the many pockets of his pants. At the other end of the hallway, the elevator ding-ed softly and the door opened, three figures stepping out of it.

“Alex?” a familiar voice called, making Alex and Eliza turned to the source of the voice.

John was walking up to them, followed by Lafayette and a woman Alex didn’t recognize. The woman was dressed nicely, fashionable yet practical, and he could see Lafayette holding her hand.

“Hi, John,” Alex smiled shyly as Lafayette smirked, watching the items around Alex’s and Eliza’s feet with a knowing look. “Hi, Lafayette.”

“Mon petit lion!” Lafayette cheered happily. “Let me introduce you to my lovely Adrienne,” he smiled proudly. “Ma chérie, this is my friend, Alex,” Lafayette introduced him to the woman in French. Alex shook hands with her and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Alex,” he introduced himself back. “Oh, and this is my friend, Eliza.” He introduced Eliza to the three of them, repeating the words in English since Eliza didn’t speak French. “Eliza, this is John Laurens and Lafayette, they lived across the hallway, and this lady is Lafayette’s fiancée, Adrienne, which I just met.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Elizabeth Schuyler,” Eliza waved at John, Lafayette, and Adrienne.

“Schuyler?” Adrienne asked, her eyes widened when she looked at Eliza’s face. “Like the writer… uh… what’s it called in English… ah, ‘The Sky is the Limit’?”

“That’s me!” Eliza’s smile was the sweetest.

“I’m a huge fan!” Adrienne’s accent was thick, especially now when she was excited. “Wait, wait… I know you too…” Adrienne now turned to Alex. Alex could feel his body was frozen when recognition appeared in Adrienne’s face. “You’re Hamilton! A. Hamilton!” she squealed even louder now.

John and Lafayette now were looking at him, eyes wide; because of course they would recognize the name, A. Hamilton. Alex looked down to his shoes, suddenly his dirty sneakers looked interesting, blushing when John and Lafayette kept staring at him. Eliza still smiling, though she didn’t understand the situation. Alex didn’t mean to lie, he just… didn’t say anything since his neighbors never exactly asked for his last name.

“Wait… Alex is A. Hamilton?” John asked slowly. “As in… that A. Hamilton, Hamilton?”

Adrienne blinked. “Oui! I met him last summer in Boston when there was a book signing. You didn’t know… wait, was it supposed to be a secret?” she gasped, quickly turning to Alex who was still hoping the ground would open up and swallow him up now.

Alex just stood there awkwardly, still avoiding everyone’s gaze. “It wasn’t… It’s just… never came up,” he mumbled quietly. Eliza raised an eyebrow when she saw how quiet and awkward Alex was and quickly swooped in.

“Well, it’s nice meeting you guys, but Alex and I still have to put everything inside,” she motioned to the purchases around them.

“Oh! It’s okay,” Adrienne nodded. “It’s really nice meeting my two favorite authors!” she was still gushing.

John cleared his throat and looked at Alex carefully. “Do you want to join us for dinner today? Herc is cooking. And of course, Ms. Schuyler is invited as well,” John said slowly, looking from Alex to Eliza.

“Oh, I’d love to. And you can call me Eliza,” Eliza nodded. “Alex?”

“We’ll come,” Alex nodded and smiled slightly. “I’ll see you later then.”

He wondered what would happen now that the cat was out of the bag. His stomach churned and he wondered if he should go to apartment 1777 at all.

Chapter Text

Eliza didn’t ask any question when both of them started to put up the curtains and setting up the television. Alex was grateful since he wasn’t sure how to explain it to Eliza. They just worked in comfortable silence, with Eliza humming softly a song Alex didn’t recognize. When they were done, it was almost time to join everyone in 1777 for dinner. Eliza asked his permission to take a quick shower and changed her clothes (she even brought her own clothes as if she was expecting she would need it). Alex just washed his face and pulled his hair into its usual messy bun.

“Your neighbors look nice,” Eliza commented as she waited for Alex to locate his phone. “John looks cute.” She gave a meaningful look to Alex.

“Eliza…” Alex sighed.

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged.

“You sound like my Mom.”

“And it’s the greatest compliment,” Eliza chuckled. She loved Martha, practically idolized her.

Alex rolled his eyes. He found his phone and slipped it to his pocket and grabbed the box of weird fruits Tench Tilghman had sent his way for a gift to everyone in 1777. Somehow Tench was convinced Alex could eat all the fruits in the box. He didn’t even know what the fruit was called (“Ha! Alexander Hamilton doesn’t know about something!” Eliza teased him), and they looked weird. He remembered Lafayette and John were pretty adventurous with their pallets, so they might enjoy this.

Eliza knocked on the door as they waited until someone opened it. It was John, smiling when he saw Alex and Eliza.

“Alex! Ms. Schuyler! Hi. Come in,” he opened the door wider and let them in.

“You can call me Eliza, Mr. Laurens,” Eliza said.

“Call me John, then. You can call them Lafayette and Hercules too,” he motioned to his friends.

They got the pleasantries went along the way, and the box of weird fruits was handed to Hercules who was always delighted with them before Lafayette and John dragged Alex to the living room and made him sat on the couch before they flanked him. Adrienne and Eliza took the loveseat and watched the scene unfold with amusement, since John and Lafayette were frowning and Alex looked like cornered mouse.

“Alex, why didn’t you tell us?” John asked; his voice was gentle.

“You… never asked,” Alex admitted. “You never asked about my job or even my last name. It’s not like I’m lying…” he couldn’t help but sounded a bit defensive.

John groaned. “Now I feel stupid! I have been gushing about you in front of yourself!” he covered his face with his hands and groaned. “It’s embarrassing!”

“John, as you know, is a big fan of yours, mon ami. You should’ve seen him after we left you earlier. He was so torn about burying himself or rushing to your apartment and asked for autographs,” Lafayette chuckled, looking like he had getting over his shock.

Alex smiled despite feeling awkward again. Suddenly he felt like it was the first time he was invited over and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, not sure what to do.

“Don’t worry about it, Kid. John is still getting over his fanboy moment, he will be fine,” Hercules had stepped out of the kitchen and ruffled his hair. “You’re still Alex, and I’ll still be feeding you until you’re round and plump.”

Alex blushed shyly, but he felt warm nonetheless. The room felt lighter as Adrienne fell into easy conversation with Eliza. Lafayette was being shameless, asking Eliza to sign his collections. Eliza suggested Alex should sign his books too, and now, Alex with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness signed all his books in John’s collection. And John was still in his fanboy phase when he studied the “A. Hamilton” scrawled on the page.

“Dinner’s ready, guys,” Hercules announced. “It’s macaroni and cheese today.”

Alex whimpered and groaned internally. He loved Hercules’ cooking, it was one of the best thing in the world. But even Alex doubted Hercules could make macaroni and cheese bearable for Alex, as he shuddered a short week he had stayed in a certain Jefferson’s place. For a whole week he had to eat macaroni and cheese because that was the only think Jefferson could cook and would cook.

“Something wrong, mon petit lion?” Lafayette asked him carefully, clearly he noticed the change in Alex’s face at the mention of macaroni and cheese.

Eliza was smiling knowingly. “Probably he had a flashback about certain Thomas Jefferson,” she teased him and patted Alex’s shoulder. “Come on, Alex. The mac and cheese smells better than Thomas’.”

Lafayette eyes widened. “Like the writer?” he asked.

“Yes. Alex and Mr. Jefferson are quite close,” Eliza nodded.

“I am not close with him,” Alex grumbled.

Adrienne giggled. “Is this the famous Hamilton and Jefferson rivalry?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. Alex is like Mr. Jefferson’s protégé,” Eliza started.

“I am not his protégé!” he sighed in protest. He was tired of people kept referring him as Jefferson’s protégé. He was so much better than that walking human disaster.

“Tell us more!” Lafayette cheered.

Eliza exchanged look with Alex as the man just sighed. He would stop Eliza when things got into danger zone.

The dinner with Eliza and Adrienne in 1777 went smoothly. Eliza stayed the night since it was late and Alex didn’t want her to navigate her way back home so late at night. He let Eliza slept in his bedroom while he slept on the couch in the living room (though he wasn’t exactly sleeping, but working instead). In the morning, he walked her up to the subway station after buying her coffee and muffins from Alex’s favorite coffee shop.

Alex returned home, meeting John on the hallway when he was walking out to work. They exchanged quick words before Alex stepped into his apartment and sighed softly. With Eliza went home, the place felt much emptier now. Hercules was probably already on his way to work, and Lafayette would be busy with his fiancée and maybe his work. Alex smiled when he remembered last night dinner. Sure it was a bit awkward for a while since John kept looking at him with this star-struck look on his face, but everyone was laughing as they sat on the floor around the coffee table instead of the couch since there wasn’t enough room for all of them.  As the honor, they let Eliza and Adrienne picked up the movie, and Alex knew they were planning something when they chose the movie.

They chose ‘Another Scottish Tragedy’ of all things they could watch. Alex blushed. It was a movie adaptation of his book with the same title, and Alex hated the movie with passion. But everyone was cheered, and John patted his shoulder gently (he finally got over his fanboy phase). And so, Alex was sitting there, watching his work butchered on the screen while John and Adrienne asked for his comment on several scenes.

It was surprisingly good, sitting there with these people. Alex had thought it would feel weird, and everyone would suddenly treat him differently. But everyone had been so sweet and genuine, even with the star-struck looks lingered on their faces, Alex felt comfortable. Eliza also fit in nicely (but then again, it was Eliza, she always fit in nicely, it almost like super power now). It was good, nice. They laughed, teased each other. Everything was—

When he opened his eyes, he was met with his empty apartment. The only light came in through the window, with the light green curtains opened up to let the sun light in. It shifted slowly, like someone changing the saturation level of his apartment.

Into gray scale.

 It felt cold. Alex’s fingers stopped moving, and suddenly the room went quiet yet he heard everything. The sound from the heater, the humming from his laptop, the ticking of the clock…

Tick-tock-tick-tock…

His room was cold, it was empty.

Tick-tock-tick-tock…

He was drowning… deep… deep… deep…

The sound of his heart beat was drowned, muffled out of earshot…

And Alexander was—

He snapped himself back. He knew this feeling. He knew this feeling very well. Alex got up from the couch, grabbed his coat, wallet, and phone. He took his keys before he made his way out of his apartment. He walked out of the building. He didn’t care where he was going, he knew he just had to walk somewhere. He didn’t care. He didn’t pay any attention as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat.

It was cold. Everything was cold and he had to get away.

He was fine.

Alexander was fine.

Christmas came soon enough, and Alexander had done all his shopping. He promised Martha he would be joining her at Mount Vernon for Christmas since he couldn’t come for Thanksgiving. Alex had been busy with his book would be released just the day before, Tench Tilghman dragged him into signing a hundred copies, telling Alex it was some sort of lottery to win a special edition collection of A. Hamilton’s works. Alex never really care about the promotional, he let Tench handled them. The man just pointed him at what he was supposed to do, and Alex would do it if he was okay. It mostly worked (except for ‘Another Scottish Tragedy’ adaptation that Alex hated but publics loved), and Alex trusted the man.

So he signed a hundred copies (he swore he could do more, but Tench snorted as he took those copies to be distributed to different bookstores all over the country). He asked Tench if he could have a set of the special edition, wondering if it would be appropriate for John’s Christmas present. He knew Lafayette already pre-ordered ‘It’s Quiet Uptown’ (and Alex knew because Lafayette told him), but he doubted Lafayette could get one with the autograph inside. So Tench agreed to give him the 101^st copy that was supposed to be Alex’s (since he didn’t need them).

Adrienne stayed until January, especially when Alex slipped her about the writers’ panel. Lafayette looked happy when she extended her stay in New York. The couple would spend their Christmas in a remote cabin somewhere, while John went to the Mulligan’s house just like he always did every year.

“Where will you going for Christmas, Alex?” John asked as the five of them (with Adrienne of course) drinking hot chocolate after dinner. Lafayette and Adrienne cuddled up on the loveseat while Alex, John, and Hercules were also cuddling on the couch.

“I’m coming home to the Washingtons’ estate,” Alex said as he sipped his hot chocolate slowly. Hercules also made the best hot chocolate.

“Washington… as in the Senator George Washington?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Alex nodded. George was pretty popular in the Senate, a prominent figure in his party. There were even gossips he would run for President in the next election, but George never said anything. In every election people always spread the rumor George would run, and it always turned out to be not true as far as Alex knew. He never brought it up, and his adoptive parents never really mentioned it publicly that their adoptive son was the famous ‘A. Hamilton’. It wasn’t like they kept it secret, it was just simply never came up. “You know him?”

“My father hates him,” John shrugged. “So in my book, Senator Washington is cool.”

The conversation shifted to Lafayette and Adrienne’s plan on staying on a cabin, in winter. Even Lafayette didn’t want to tell them where the cabin was, but he promised Adrienne it would be romantic. Hercules snorted, wondering what would be romantic about cold cabin in the middle of nowhere with barely any food. Lafayette took this chance to rope Hercules into making provisions for them for the three days stay at the cabin.

Alex gave the 1777 residences and Adrienne their Christmas gifts (he added something extra for John’s because he felt cheap giving him the books he wrote) before he headed to the airport for his flight. He bundled up warmly since he wasn’t feeling well when he woke up in the morning and he didn’t want to risk it.

He felt weirdly calm instead of the usual anxiety he got when he had to come down to Virginia and face Jacky again. He didn’t bring much with him, just a backpack with his laptop and the Christmas presents for the Washingtons and books to read (though he was pretty sure he would buy a new one on the airport instead of reading the one he brought along). Hopefully, the Washingtons hadn’t thrown away his clothes after a year not coming to visit (his logical mind told him it was stupid to think Martha or George would do that, but he couldn’t help it). He did end up buying new book before he went to the waiting room and boarding his flight.

Once he settled on his seat, Alex sighed softly before he fell asleep until his flight arrived in DC.

It didn’t take long for Alex to recognize George in the crowds. Senator George Washington was huge man, towering above everyone else, always looking stoic when he was in public. Even now, dressed down and wrapped in coat and obnoxious pink scarf, he still looked imposing and commanding, holding a board with the word “Son” written on it. Alex approached the man and grinned.

“Not your son,” Alex greeted him, voice lacking with malice. It was an old joke between the two of them.

“Alexander,” George smiled and pulled him into a hug. Alex stood awkwardly being engulfed in his Dad’s warm hug, embarrassed since he was a grown man being hugged in public by his adoptive father. But still, he leaned to the hug, knowing it had been a year since the last time they really met face to face. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“Fine… A bit cold, but fine,” Alex said softly.

George pulled away to study his adoptive son with scrutinizing look on his face. “You’re thinner, and paler. Are you sure you’re okay?” he frowned.

“Yes, Dad. Come on. I’m tired after the flight and I just want to go home now,” Alex mumbled. George smiled as he watched Alex walked away first before following him.

Alex used to be hesitant with the Washingtons the first time he came around. And he really hated it when George called him “son”. But over the year, Alex couldn’t help but accepting the couple. George who had imposing figure was actually a soft and caring father figure, and Martha, much smaller than her husband was actually a force to be reckoned. The kindness they shown and acceptance brought Alex closer to them, and eventually, Alex started to think of them as his parents; his Dad and Mom. And as a child, he wanted to impress them so they would not throw him away.

“Mom doesn’t come with you?” Alex asked as he walked along side George.

“No. She couldn’t. She had the caterers to supervise, and a platoon of party planner to order around,” George shrugged.

“So, you run away in a guise of picking me up,” Alex chuckled.

“Martha is scary when she was on a mission.”

The two of them made their way to the car, Alex put his backpack on the backseat before he settled on the passenger seat of George silver Lexus. As usual, George drove carefully, asking Alex about his new apartment in New York, about his neighbors. He looked like a proud father finding out his quiet antisocial boy just made friends in kindergarten without any help, and Alex snorted at his Dad’s face. Alex didn’t say much in their conversation since he felt tired and a bit sluggish once the plane landed. So he just listened and gave George short answers to his questions.

The Mount Vernon estate hadn’t change since the last time Alex was there. Still big, yet homely. It was far enough from the city but not too far to make it unable to commute daily. With rolling hills and Potomac river ran on the east, Mount Vernon always gave a sense of old and historic. Alex would describe it as entering a completely different time period. The estate had been owned by George’s family for centuries with modification and renovation from time to time. Alex could see all the buzz for the dinner party, with catering trucks lined up outside on the driveway.

George parked his car and waited for Alex to join him before they made their way into the house. They found Martha was busy talking to a man, probably the catering director, demanded the man to get her the champagne she wanted. Alex waited until she finished talking to the man before Martha saw him.

“Alex, sweetheart! You’re here,” she ran to him and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek gently. Martha Washington was a formidable lady, despite her small stature and the fact that she was shorter than Alex. But she had so much grace and presence that even could put her husband’s to shame. “It’s been a long time,” she sighed softly and ran her fingers through Alex’s messy hair.

“Sorry about that, Mom,” he smiled gently. He missed Martha a lot.

“You look pale… and thinner! I thought you’re eating fine! Are you sick? I know you often got sick once winter comes,” she fussed over him like usual.

“I’m fine, Mom. I just need to rest a bit. I feel tired and a bit sluggish this morning,” he smiled. “I’ll be fine for the party,” he assured her.

“Go to your room and rest, Darlin’. I’ll bring you some tea and sandwiches,” she patted his shoulder and hugged him again.

Alex nodded and started to walk to his room while he could hear Martha roped her husband into some work and George tried to argue his way out. He missed his parents, and seeing them here, in Mount Vernon, almost felt surreal for Alex. When he got to his room, he sighed softly. Nothing changed. The room was still painted soft green, walls were lined up with bookshelves. The empty spaces on the walls were covered by maps of Arda, Middle-Earth, and Narnia instead of posters.

Alex sighed as he set his backpack down and took off all the bundles on him. He just threw the scarf, coat, jacket, and sweater he had on to the nearby chair until he was dressed in comfortable shirt. He took off his jeans and put on the sweatpants from his closet before he slipped into his bed and pulled the comforter for warmth. It didn’t take long before he fell asleep.

Martha woke him up for lunch. The house had been set for the party tonight. The Washington’s Christmas party was a big deal in Virginia, and it had been a tradition since the first time Mount Vernon estate was built. Important people came to this party, Senators, Representatives, even some from the Cabinet’s members (the President even came a few years ago). There were also celebrities and high profiles businessmen mingling in the party.

Everyone was busy to make everything perfect.

“Sweetheart, how’s your nap?” Martha asked him gently as she sat down on the bed next to Alex. Her hand gently felt Alex’s forehead.

The nap didn’t make him feel better, instead he felt more tired, and his head felt full and slow. Everything was too hot and cold at the same time, he didn’t feel good.

“Alex, you have a fever,” Martha said softly, feeling his flushed cheeks. “I’ll get something for you, okay? Eat your sandwiches, I’ll be back”

She left the bedroom while Alex munched on his sandwich painfully slow. He finished a quarter of it when he couldn’t take it anymore. Martha returned with some medicines and made Alex took them. She sighed softly as she helped Alex eased back to his bed, underneath the comforter.

“You don’t have to join the party tonight if you’re not up for it, okay? Just rest,” Martha kissed his forehead before she left.

Alex didn’t know how long he was sleeping when he heard someone opened the door to his room. He forced his eyes open to see the man who just entered and he met the dark brown hair and a pair of brown eyes looking down on him.

Jacky.

“Really, Alexander, just a few hours in you have done so much to get the attention for yourself,” Jacky tutted as he sat on Alex’s bed. But unlike Martha’s comforting weight, Jacky felt intrusive and Alex just wanted to shove him away. “But it’s okay, right? You love it, even now, already a grown up. Though I have to say, Mom and Dad would be really disappointed if you can’t come down to the party. I mean, it’s just downstairs, and you already missed Thanksgiving. They deserve better, right?” Jacky chuckled as he ran fingers through Alex’s hair in false affection. “Poor Alexander, the kind, golden boy… he was too sick for the party just down the hallway…” he whispered, face only a few inches from Alex’s. “You always want to make Mom and Dad proud, right?” he kissed his forehead, a mockery of something that Martha just did.

Alex’s body tensed as he looked up to Jacky.

“Get well soon, Alexander,” Jacky smiled before he got up and walked out of the room.

Alex felt his body relaxed on the bed once he left. He glanced at the clock, it read four o’clock in the evening. The party would start at six. Alex pushed himself up slowly and wobbled to the bathroom to wash his face and cleaned up a bit. He had to look good for the party.

Alex cleaned up nicely. Billy, George’s personal assistant, helped him get ready, finding his suits and made his hair looked presentable instead the usual mess. So he was standing in the ballroom, hair had been pulled into a neat ponytail, still slightly flushed from the fever and but stood his ground steadily. He had taken his medicine and drank a lot of water, he would be fine. All he had to do was to avoid too much moving, and he would be fine.

It was his mantra now.

Alex was fine.

“Alexander, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be upstairs and resting,” George gave him a disapproving look when he saw Alex was standing around in the ballroom instead of sleeping.

“I feel fine. I’ll be okay,” Alex smiled through his dizziness. “I’ll just sit down in the corner or something.”

George sighed. “Son, you should be in bed,” George said firmly.

“Dad, I’ll be fine,” Alex patted his shoulder. “I’ll drink a lot of water, I’ll sit if I got tired. Now go and greet the guests. Just smile and wave, Dad, smile and wave…”

George shook his head and he sighed, yet he still walked up to Martha to greet the guests that just started to come for the party. Alex braved himself and smiled as some guests walked up to him and shook his hand, exchanged a few words with him. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Jacky smiling brightly with a woman in his arms. Alex guessed she was the girlfriend he was talking about, Eleanor or something. He didn’t see Patsy, but then again, Patsy rarely shown up with so many people in the room.

Alex kept smiling and talking to a few guests. He noticed several of them, and they also recognized him as the same A. Hamilton, the writer. A few celebrities were also here, and Alex recognized them despite his exposure to them would be lacking (at least compared to other people). After about fifteen minutes of standing and smiling, Alex felt like he couldn’t stand anymore before he passed out, so he found a chair on the side, and sat down. He used the chance to study the guests. Most of them were family friends, which meant members of the most prominent families in Virginia and DC. Some were political figures, Senators and Representatives. Alex wasn’t sure about the others, probably Jacky’s friends since they flocked around him.

“Well, well, little Alex is coming home.”

A grating yet familiarly annoying voice greeted him, forcing Alex to look up because the man standing next to him was tall, almost as tall as George, but not as stocky. His hair was wild and his clothes were a fashion disaster as usual. At least he didn’t show up in bathrobe like Alex knew this man would do from time to time. Whoever told him his magenta jacket worked so well with the baby blue vest and red pants needed to be fired from whatever job they had. But then again, Thomas Jefferson was probably a description of human dumpster fire.

“Jefferson,” Alex sighed. “I thought you’ll be in Monticello.”

“I’m invited,” Jefferson shrugged. “And I always come to George’s party, or have you forget?” the man looked down to Alex, studying his pale complexion and the light flush on his face and the sweat on his face. “Are you okay, Hamilton? Are you even supposed to be here?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Just a slight fever,” Alexander sighed and leaned back to the chair. “I saw your book… the unpublished works thing? Isn’t it usually done if the author was dead? Is there something you haven’t told me, Jefferson? Are you dying?” Alex asked mockingly.

Jefferson groaned. “No. My agent found them when he helped me arranging my archives and he liked them. He told me I should put them together for a full book, so I just let him,” Jefferson said as he sipped the champagne in his flute. “Are you worried?” he grinned.

“Like hell,” Alex snorted though he was also smiling. “It’s still shit though.”

“Should I be flattered you buy and read my book this time?” Jefferson smirked.

“No. I didn’t buy it. One of my fans sent it to me for some reason, I’m not sure why,” Alex shrugged. “But your essays, they’re so weak when you brought up diversity onto the subject at hand and it turned everything into a mess. For instant, the first essay in the book…” and he went off just like that, rambling and ranting about Jefferson’s work and soon, the two had been engaged in a heated debate, attracting attention to themselves.

For a while, Alex forgot his fever because he enjoyed tearing Jefferson’s arguments apart. Jefferson himself, despite never admitting it, was having a time riling the younger man in front of him. While he never really enjoy speaking in public, a debate with Alex was enjoyable. Their opinions were almost differ with each other, but even when they agreed on something, the other would happily played the devil’s advocate to other to keep the debate going.

Alex was so into explaining his seventh point of his thirty points arguments when he felt his vision wavered, and everything got blurry. His mind went blank as he stopped mid argument. Nausea and dizziness hit him hard. Someone was calling his name, but he didn’t know who. His body swayed before he lost his strength to keep himself up and felt he was ready to fall down…

Someone caught him. Someone was saying something.

Were they angry? They sounded angry…

I’m sorry…

Alex didn’t like it when people were angry with him.

They would throw him out.

Please don’t…

I’m sorry, Mama…

And then, the darkness engulfed him like an old friend.

Chapter Text

Thomas Jefferson never really liked crowded place. He enjoyed the solitude his Monticello estate provided; he enjoyed good companies of friends. But the room filled with strangers and people he barely knew made him uncomfortable. Books were better than people anyway. But the Washingtons were an old family friend. They were always kind to Thomas when he was still living nearby before he decided to put himself in isolation in Monticello, and George almost (keyword was almost) saw him as a son, and trusted him enough years ago to let him took care of his adoptive son for a few days (he would deny it was actually Alex who took care of him, like hell he would admit it).

And Alexander Hamilton, a young man with great talent was someone he cared about, even though he would never admit to it. The first time he met Hamilton, he was still thirteen, reading in the corner while the party was going on around him. Thomas smiled slightly when he saw the book he read and realized it was one of his works, ‘The Emperor Has No Clothes’. Thomas wondered if the boy was old enough to understand the book properly. He was small, looking younger than his age, too thin to be healthy. George introduced them, and Thomas watched the recognition flashed in the young boy’s eyes.

Oh, his eyes were something, Thomas thought to himself. Bright, passionate, intelligent.

“I see you read my book,” Thomas motioned to the book in Alex’s hand. “What do you think?”

Alex looked down to the book, looking at the author’s page with photo of Thomas plastered on it, before turning his gaze back to Thomas’ face. He frowned, looking deep in thought. Thomas wondered what would be the first word this young man would say to the author of the book he was reading. Thomas always liked this work of his, and he was rather proud of it. Most people at the party, who quickly recognized him, complimented his work, “It was truly a work of genius, Mr. Jefferson, I’m hanging to edge of my seat the whole time…” and such. It was nice hearing his hard work complimented like that.

Alex opened his mouth.

“Your books are shitty,” he said simply.

Thomas frowned. “What? Say that again?”

“Your books are shitty. Look, I know you’re a famous writer, Mr. Jefferson, but I found that your works are lacking. Sure, the stories and plots are fresh, but the characters seem recycled. The first book of yours I read was the ‘Smells like New Money’ one. It was entertaining to some point before the story just falls apart when the main character started to make his own decision. Not to mention…”

Thomas was stunned as he watched the scrawny boy with rat’s ness hair listed his problems with Jefferson’s books for half an hour. Thomas was pretty sure at some point he just tuned out before he gathered himself and started to argue with him.

Basically, their relationship started with an insult and followed by an argument.

It was weird.

“Writing isn’t as easy as you thought, young man. Come to me again if you have made something yourself,” Thomas told him.

And a year later, Alex published his first book and it became a huge hit. Thomas read it, and he had to admit, the kid could write, even better than most adults (not him, of course). Thomas watched Alex grew as a writer. They kept each other on their toes, especially with their writing genre often times overlapped with each other. After years, their disdain of each other softened into reluctant friendliness. Sure, there were always an argument at least, happened between them whenever they met, but they were friendlier after years and Thomas couldn’t help but care for Alex. He was almost like a little brother, an annoying one though.

At the Christmas party, he knew Alex wasn’t feeling well. He was sweating, his face was flushed slightly, but his lips were pale. He was sitting down in the corner, like years ago, but he didn’t read a book. Instead, he was studying the people around them carefully. Alex often got sick during winter, with the weather being cold and his poor living condition (lack of sleep and the fact he often neglecting food for work). He looked thin underneath the suits he wore, and Thomas wondered. He talked to him, and as usual they got into an argument. As usual, Alex argument was long winded, put into several points, but from Thomas’ eyes, he didn’t look good at all. And slowly, his words became less eloquent, rambling away. And Thomas knew, Alex wasn’t as fine as he described himself to be.

“Hamilton? Hamilton, are you okay?” he knelt down next to him, holding his body when the younger man’s rambling grew quieter. Thomas held his body up as Alex started to sway on his seat. He realized they were starting to attract some attention from the party guests. From the corner of his eyes, he saw George and Martha walked briskly towards them.

George knelt down in front of Alex, checking his temperature and sighed softly.

“Alexander? Alexander, can you hear me?” he asked softly.

Thomas could hear Alex mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for Thomas to hear. But George seemed to hear him as he mumbled something to Alex. “I’ll carry him to his room,” he told his wife. “Martha, can you stay here and explained to everyone?”

“Of course, Darlin’,” she nodded. “Make sure he had enough fluid and comfortable? I’ll tell Billy to find something light for him since he hasn’t eaten since the party started.”

“Okay,” George nodded. He looked to Thomas and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about Alexander, Thomas. He isn’t feeling well, but too stubborn to rest in his room.”

“It’s okay. I’ll help you get him to his room,” Thomas assured him. “Should we call the ambulance?” he asked.

“No… I’m fine…” this time it was Alex who answered. “Just… blackout…”

“You passed out in the middle of your ramble, Kid. I’ll call for ambulance,” Thomas said.

“No,” he said, his voice sounded stronger. “I’ll just… return to my room. You should stay here, Dad… I’ll be fine,” Alex pushed himself away from George slowly. “Enjoy the party.”

Alex started to wobble out of the room to his bedroom. Thomas shrugged and followed the younger man to make sure he got to his room okay. Thomas trusted George to find his assistant to help with Alex in his room. It took them longer since Alex refused any assistance like a moody teenager. It annoyed Thomas, but he was determined to see Alex settled in bed now. The man was stupid enough to attend a party while having a fever, it was ridiculous.

Once they got in Alex’s room, Billy was already there with change of clothes for Alex. He assured Thomas he would take care of the man, so Thomas decided to leave and returned to the party. He couldn’t help though, but pulling out his phone and texted Madison about what just happened.

The morning after was quiet in Mount Vernon, with only George and Martha sitting on the dining table, eating pancakes quietly. Both were still tired after the party last night, not to mention they were worried about Alex. Jacky had left with his girlfriend (at least George thought she was his girlfriend, though she looked so different from the girl he introduced to them during Thanksgiving) right after the party, saying he got somewhere else to be and George told Nelson, his driver, to drive Jacky since both him and the girl were too drunk to drive (in fact, they looked too drunk to go to another party, but it was Jacky, so nothing he said could stop him). Patsy as usual, locked herself in her room and had her breakfast delivered there instead. Alex was still sleeping, though he still had his fever, George would call Dr. Hosack after breakfast since Alex hated hospital with passion.

“Has Alex eat his breakfast?” George asked Martha.

“Not yet. I’ll bring his breakfast after,” Martha said. “Have you call Dr. Hosack?” she asked.

“After breakfast. Hopefully, he’s still in town instead of going somewhere for vacation,” George nodded. “I’m guessing Alex is still asleep at the moment.”

“He is,” Martha sighed. “He looked so thin and tired. I doubt he got enough sleep without someone to keep an eye on him. Remember when he collapsed back in college because he still determined to finish up his study in two years while writing a book?” she shook her head. “Even now, that boy still worries me.”

“I remember it. Ms. Schuyler always said he always write like he was running out of time,” George chuckled, remembering young Elizabeth Schuyler, Philip’s daughter, who was also a writer just like his Alexander.

“Ah, yes. Eliza said she wanted to be here, but her family is in New York,” Martha nodded. She liked Eliza, she was smart, understanding, and kind. They often met in fundraisers or charity events, since Eliza ran an orphanage, and Martha was one of the donators for it. “She’s a nice lady, and she’s close to Alex as well…”

George smiled while he cut his pancakes. “Honey, do I sense your matchmaking urge tingling?” he teased her. Martha loved being a matchmaker (so was George, but he never admitted it, he just enjoyed it).

“I can’t help it. Alex is single, and Eliza is single too. They’re already close, both are writers, and Eliza could definitely handle Alex’s stubbornness…”

“Ah, but I heard from Thomas last night, Alexander already has a boyfriend,” George said.

“Thomas Jefferson?” Martha raised an eyebrow at her husband.

“Yes, after he came back from tucking Alex in. Thomas mentioned it to me, saying he heard it from Angelica Schuyler, and Angelica Schuyler heard it from her sister, Eliza,” George explained. “Remember when you told me you met Eliza in one of the charity gala after Thanksgiving? You gave her Alex’s new address in New York, and she came to visit him. Apparently she met Alex’s boyfriend, and they lived together already.”

Martha gasped softly. “But George, Alex never said anything…” Martha looked up to her husband. “I called and texted him almost every day, but he never said anything about a boyfriend. Not to mention they lived together… He told me about his neighbors from across the hallway who always invited him over for dinner, what’re their names again… Hercules, Lafayette, and uh… John, I think.”

“Do you think one of them might be the boyfriend?” George asked curiously.

“I wonder why he didn’t tell us. Do you think he was afraid we might reject him if he was dating and living with a man?” Martha frowned, clearly disappointed her adoptive son didn’t trust her enough for something like this. “I mean, we weren’t angry when he came out to us and told us he is bisexual, I mean, I always knew he isn’t straight the way he kept staring at Chris Evans abs when we watched Captain America. But still, we would accept him if he decided to date a man, right?”

“I know, Sweetheart. But sometimes, I don’t really understand the way Alexander thinking. He had been through a lot, Martha, and all we can do is to support him,” George sighed. “I’ll ask Alexander about it once he felt better.”

“Ask me what?”

Both Washingtons turned their heads to the man leaning on the doorway, dressed in huge dark green sweater and comfortable sweatpants, Alex was barefooted when he walked down from his room to the dining room.

“Alex,” Martha smiled brightly. “How are you feeling, Darlin’?” she asked softly.

“Better. Thanks for asking, Mom,” Alex smiled as he walked up to a chair and sat down. Martha quickly helped him to his pancakes, stacking three before drowning them in syrup the way Alex always did it. She poured some tea for Alex instead of his usual coffee. Alex thanked her softly and cut up her pancakes before turning to George. “Ask me about what, Dad?”

George cleared his throat and set down his knife and fork, pushing away his plate as he looked at Alex. “Son, I heard you have a boyfriend and live with him.”

Alex, who was chewing on his breakfast coughed loudly, trying to swallow the whole pancake in his mouth and pushed them down with tea. “What the fuck?!”

“Language, Alexander,” George scolded him. “Well, I was talking to Thomas last night, one thing led to another, he told me you lived with your boyfriend in New York…”

“What? Who? Where?!” Alex looked at his adoptive father with disbelief. “Since when do I have a boyfriend? Not to mention living with him?”

“Thomas said Angelica told him that Eliza told her that you have a boyfriend,” George explained himself.

“Damn it, that Jefferson,” he cursed under his breath, so low, George didn’t hear it. “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I definitely don’t live with him because I don’t have a boyfriend. Mom, you call me every day,” Alex turned to Martha.

“I thought you’re hiding him from us because you were scared we might hate him?” Martha looked at her adoptive son helplessly. “You’re always so private about this kind of thing, Honey.”

“I literally told you I’m bisexual once I realized it,” Alex sighed tiredly. “If I had a boyfriend or girlfriend, you know you’ll be the first one to know, dear Mother.”

“So… John is not your boyfriend?” Martha asked.

“No, Mom. He’s my neighbor. Why do you think he’s my boyfriend anyway?” Alex frowned.

“Well, you always talk about him fondly over the phone, and when George brought up the subject of boyfriend, I thought he really was your boyfriend…”

“No, John is not my boyfriend.”

“Then can I set you up? Do you remember my old friend from the book club, she had a son, who is a lawyer—“

“No.”

“But Alex—“

“No.”

“How about Mr. Livingston’s daughter—“

“No.”

George watched the interaction between Martha and Alex fondly, while his wife kept coming up with sons and daughters of her friends and Alex kept rejected them while eating his pancakes. This morning was fine.

And it didn’t look like Alex would need Dr. Hosack.

(But George still called him in later just to make sure.)

When Alex returned to New York before New Year, Martha wanted to ask him to stay longer. To be honest, she missed him a lot, and the house was emptier now with only her and George once Patsy returned to college. Jacky was too busy roaming all over America to stay in quiet and sleepy Virginia. George and Martha usually just kept themselves busy, George with the Senate and Martha with her charity works. Alex assured her he would come and visit soon as both Washingtons drove him to the airport. He kissed her cheek and let George pulled him into his bear hug before they let him go.

Martha wondered if she would have an event in New York soon, maybe she could visit. Or just randomly popped up, but Alex hated it when people just showed up without notifying him first. And she was still worried, despite Alex looking fine, his fever hadn’t exactly went away. Dr. Hosack had explained it was just a cold, so nothing too dangerous.

“Make sure you eat and rest, okay? You should give me your neighbors’ numbers so I can check up on you,” Martha sighed.

“I’ll be fine. Just call me like usual,” Alex smiled. “I’ll be off now. I’ll call you when I arrived.”

With that, he waved and walked away towards the departure gate.

Other than being sick, Alex’s Christmas wasn’t as eventful. Jacky came back home just Christmas morning, hung over, yet looking satisfied when he joined everyone in the living room. Patsy managed to be coaxed out of her room and joined everyone. Jacky was too drunk to start another argument with George, so everyone was calm and happy when they sat together for lunch. Alex did his best to avoid Jacky, but it was quite easy since he spent his day nursing another drink in the spirit of Christmas in his room.

And when the time came for Alex to go back to New York, he said goodbye to Patsy, but Jacky was nowhere to be found and his car was gone. So Martha and George drove him to the airport they said their goodbyes, and in a few hour, Alex had returned to his empty apartment.

He was fine.

It was John who texted him asking if he was already back to New York. For a few days when Alex was in Mount Vernon, they texted, though Alex sent more of his time sleeping rather than texting because of his fever. He didn’t text Lafayette that much since he guessed the Frenchman would be pretty “busy” with his fiancée in a remote cabin in winter. He even got text from Jefferson, of all people, asking about his health. Apparently, passing out in front of the man in the middle of an argument would cause that. He found it annoying, since it came from Jefferson, it sounded condescending instead of caring.

John was still staying at the Mulligan’s. Hercules offered to come back earlier to the apartment, but Alex didn’t want to take away his family time. So he quickly dressed warmly ad set out of his apartment to walk around the city and found something for lunch and dinner before returning to work. He dreaded at the thought of how much writing he had been neglecting when he was bound to the bed with fever, and Martha confiscated his laptop so he could only sleep, read books, or using his phone for a short amount of time. Alex had to keep up once he returned to his apartment.

He walked briskly, getting lost in his thought, murmuring quietly into his bundles of scarfs around his neck. Martha wouldn’t appreciate finding him wondering around the street in the cold while he was barely out of his fever, but Alex needed the walk to think. His apartment felt stuffy, despite the empty spaces surrounding him, and he wasn’t in the mood of staying inside doing nothing. He buried his face into his scarfs and pulled down his beanie, until only his eyes could be seen now. Of course, he attracted curious stares from the passersby around him, but Alex couldn’t care less. He was for his next book, as well as an essay he was just wanted to write for some time now. As his feet carried him through the cold, Alex’s mind worked.

He didn’t realize how far he had been walking until his breath felt heavy and his head felt dizzy. Alex took it as a sign that he had to rest now, but still he was too far from his apartment now. Alex looked around, finding himself in not a very familiar area, but he saw a small café nearby. Alex headed there quickly before he passed out in the cold. He found a seat and sat himself down on the table near the corner. He sighed softly before he started to take off his scarfs and coats since the café was warm enough. While he did so, a waitress came his way with the menu in her hands.

Alex placed his order of coffee and pancakes (he still blamed George for that habit, the man loved pancakes so much, it affected Alex as well now he kept eating those things whenever he could). He settled down and checked his phone. Several texts message, from Martha, Tench, and John. He raised an eyebrow when he saw one particular text coming from someone he wasn’t expected.

James Madison.

It had been awhile since the last time Alex talked to Madison. He had known Madison for quite a while. The first time he met the man was in his college years. He was a young lecturer in one of Alex’s class, a very smart man, and he himself had written a book. Of course, Alex seek him out and introduced himself to the man. Friendships easily formed between them, even after Madison mentioned he was a good friend to one Thomas Jefferson. They even worked together on the greatest master piece Alex ever written. But due to his health, Madison decided to return to Virginia with his wife, Dolly, creating some distance between Alex and himself.

He probably wanted to talk about the movie adaptation of their book. Tench had been handling it along with Dolly Madison. Tench probably texted him about it also. Alex opened the text and smiled when he saw he was right.

Tench texted about movie thing. The director wants to meet.

Montpellier on January 8^th okay?

Alex tried to remember his schedule for January. He could go down to Montpellier at that date. He felt bad asking Madison to come to New York with the man’s health. So, Alex quickly shot back his text.

Sure. Only the director?

He waited until Madison texted back.

Probably others. Producer, scriptwriter, and such.

I’ll let Dolly and Tench handle it.

Alex smiled. Dolly and Tench were capable of handling this. He quickly opened Tench’s text and told him to schedule the meeting. Alex was busy with his phone when his pancakes and coffee arrived. By the end of his pancake lunch, Alex had everything smoothed out.

He couldn’t help but feel excited with his work adapted to movie.

Hopefully, it would be good.

Alex ordered something from the café to take home for dinner later before he left. He got himself a taxi since he didn’t really have the energy to walk back to his apartment now. He slumped on the backseat, skimming through his Twitter feed. He saw people mentioned him and his book on Twitter, praised his newest book. Some were groaning at the slow pace at the beginning. Alex smiled, he remembered Tench told him the same.

“I don’t know, Hammy, but this book sounds different from your usual style,” he said the next day after Alex showed him the manuscript. Tench had been his literary agent since the very beginning of Alex’s career, he could read Alex’s mood and health just from his writing.

But now, apparently, it wasn’t just Tench who could see the stark difference between the newest ‘It’s Quiet Uptown’ and the madness of the most controversial book Alex ever written just earlier last year, ‘You Fat Motherfu—!’, which even the title got censored (in some countries, they changed the title into ‘Sit Down, John!’ to be more appropriate). Even Tench cried at that, wondering if the publishing company would want to publish it, surprisingly, they wanted to. And it was a huge success too, though some people commented on A. Hamilton’s fat-shaming writings. Alex just scoffed, because anyone who said so just didn’t get the point of that book.

John had told him he read the book, but he wanted to tell Alex directly about it instead thrugh text. Alex didn’t mind. Maybe John had a lot to say about it.

Once the taxi arrived at his apartment building, Alex paid the driver and walked up to the elevator, pressing the number to his floor and waited. The elevator didn’t stop until it reached the destined floor and the door slid open. In front of the door, Alex saw a man stood there, his body was slight, dressed in dark grey suits, holding a briefcase in his hand. Alex knew this man very well, since Tench Tilghman always had a distinct bearing that Alex could recognize anywhere.

“Tench,” Alex smiled when he saw the man, lowering his scarf so Tench could at least see his face.

“Hammy! I thought you’re still sick?!” he quickly ran up to Alex, noticing the layers Alex had on. “Goodness, Hammy! If you’re sick, you’re not supposed to go out in this weather,” he frowned and shook his head. “Mrs. Washington would kill me now…” Tench sighed. He knew the Washingtons very well since he had been working with Alex for so long.

“Don’t tell me she asked you to check up on me?” Alex sighed as he stepped into his apartment, with Tench followed closely behind him and closed the door behind him. Alex sighed. “First Eliza, and now you…”

“And she has a perfect reason, Hammy,” Tench said as he went to the kitchen and put some Gatorade into Alex’s fridge, sighing at the milk and pre-made food filled it without any sign of anything fresh. “You seriously need to re-stock your fridge.”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow,” Alex said as he started to shed all the scarfs and coats and hung them near the door. He was sweating a lot and it felt uncomfortable with his shirt clung to his skin. Alex sighed as he walked to his bedroom, took a quick shower and changed his clothes before returning to the living room where Tench was already sitting down on the couch with his notes and laptop, a pot of tea was settled in front of him.

“I want to make coffee, but tea is better since you’re still recovering,” Tench said offhandedly and handed Alex his cup once the younger man settled beside him. “I want to talk to you about movie adaptation.”

Alex nodded, inhaling the warm steam from his cup and smiled softly, feeling himself relaxed.

“Sure,” he nodded. “Fire away.”

They spent the next few hours planning over tea.

Chapter Text

John Laurens spent most of his Christmas worried over his friend after he received text message from Alex saying he was sick. At least he was in his parent’s house with someone to take care of him, but still, John worried. He texted Alex, torn up between anxious and happy when Alex took a long time to reply. Alex kindly mentioned he spent most of his time asleep, though he didn’t sound very happy with it. He was glad when Alex got better after Christmas and told him he would be coming back to New York soon. The holiday in Mulligans’ place was great, just like every year. Mrs. Mulligan always made the best Christmas dinner after all. John couldn’t wait to be back to the apartment soon and see Alex again.

And speaking of Alex, John smiled at the neatly wrapped gift on the bedside table of the Mulligans’. Alex’s Christmas gift, something he had been contemplating for a very long time. He wondered if it even comparable to Alex’s gifts for him, something he had handed to him, Lafayette, and Hercules before he was off to Virginia. Alex had given him a special collection set of his novels, something that John knew only had a hundred copies in the world, and also, the scarf with turtle patterns. Lafayette’s present was a pair of leather gloves, smooth and expensive, judging from the way Lafayette’s jaw dropped to the floor when he saw it. For Hercules, a messenger bag big enough for all of his sketchpads and other stuffs he always tried to cram into his man-purse (“It’s a satchel, John,” Hercules sighed).

John couldn’t help but smile fondly as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. It was warm and soft, and it had turtles on them. The gift was perfect, and the book set was a dream came true for John, ever since the first time he heard about it. John would treat it as family heirloom.

“What’s with the creepy smile?”

John jumped on the bed when he heard the voice came from the doorway. Hercules was standing there, looking smug while leaning against the doorway.

“Herc…” John sighed when he saw his friend.

“You really love that scarf,” Hercules grinned as he stepped into the room.

“Like you didn’t love your bigger man-purse,” John snorted.

“It’s a messenger bag, John,” Hercules tutted.

“What’s the difference?” John shrugged.

Hercules snorted. “At least I’m not creepily stroking the present from my crush.”

“What?” John flushed lightly.

“Come down for breakfast,” Hercules grinned, ignoring John’s question.

John grumbled as he went downstairs to the dining room.

He still wore his scarf though.

Alex could see the river from balcony of his apartment. In the cold winter morning, he was standing, leaning on the railings as his eyes swept over the view of the river. Pale morning sun reflected on the cold surface of the water, gleaming and glistening beautifully, reflecting the lights to the white ceiling of Alex’s apartment.

He loved water. Especially a huge body of water, ocean, sea, lake, river, you named it. He loved them all. He was raised on a small island; his Mama owned a small shop by the beach. Young Alex spent his childhood running and sitting by the beach, swimming in the warm water with the sun light kissing his skin. Every day, Alex would wake up to the endless green and blue and white sandy beach as he helped his Mama opened up the shop after breakfast, before he went to school.

When his Mama passed away, he was put in his cousin’s care. He lived further inside the island, far from the ocean. But there was a small pond not too far, where Alex could sat there for hours when he didn’t feel like staying at the house. In the orphanage, he felt slightly better when he returned to a place closer to the beach. He could still smell the ocean, making him missed his Mama and their little shop. Alex spent his day sitting outside the orphanage building because the tiny orphanage was too full of people, and he didn’t like the other kids in the orphanage. They were annoying.

Getting adopted by the Washington and moving to United States gave Alex some fear he couldn’t see the ocean again. He wondered if Mount Vernon was anywhere near beach. And he was disappointed when he found it wasn’t anywhere near beach. But, his heart elated when Martha showed him the rolling hills in the backyard and the view of Potomac River.

A river…

He lived with the comfort of the river from then on, gazing on it every morning from his bedroom window to watch the sun light reflected on the surface of the water.

When he moved to New York, he tried to find an apartment near the river. He moved a few times until he found this place, the apartment on the 17^th floor where he could have a great view of the river. It calmed his heart. Sure, it was so different from the white sandy beach and small shop in the island, but the large body of water gave him some sort of comfort nonetheless.

He folded his arms over the railings as he rested his head on them. The cold winter breeze made him shivered, even under the thick warm sweater he had on. Tench specifically told him to not go out today after his fever returned last night. The older man was pissed, and the only reason he didn’t smack Alex’s head was because he looked too pathetic bundled up under the thick blanket after they mapped out the meeting with the director and producer who would adapt his and Madison’s book. The only thing that made Tench left Alex’s place was because he insisted the agent to leave and promised he would take care of himself.

Alex felt his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled out and saw a text message from John.

Alex smiled softly as he made his way back inside and swiped the screen open to read the text.

John:

Herc and I’ll be back today.

Laf will come home later.

Alex:

Glad to hear that. Can’t wait to see you guys again.

Well, hearing John, Hercules, and Lafayette would return today made him felt better. He grabbed the thermometer on the coffee table and bundled himself on the couch to check on his temperature. Tench had left medicines and food in the fridge that would only need to be reheated for breakfast. The man, though, took away Alex’s coffee with him yesterday, and told him to drink tea instead, and got himself some rest.

When the thermometer beeped, Alex checked it, to find he still had the slight fever. He huffed softly and went to re-heat his breakfast and waited before he ate it so he could drink his medicine. After everything was done, he sat on his couch, turned his brand new television on to create some background noise as he worked.

When John returned to the apartment building, the first thing he did was to stop at Alex’s place since he had been worried when he heard Alex was sick. John knew about Alex’s fragile health, especially when the weather got cold during winter after witnessing Alex’s coughing bits weeks ago. Alex kindly expressed it wasn’t anything unusual since his was always been sickly since his childhood especially when the temperature got colder. But still, John wanted to make sure Alex was okay.

So once he got out of the elevator, John and Hercules were walking towards 1776’s door and pressed on the door bell. They waited until they heard quiet shuffling from the inside and the soft click of the lock being turned. The door pulled open and John smiled brightly when he saw the pair of familiar eyes.

Until the door was opened wider and John had a chance to take a better look at Alex.

He looked pale, clearly he was still sick despite he assured John he was better now from his text. He was dressed in soft cotton pajamas under large warm sweater, his feet clad in woolen socks, looking like something handmade.

“Alex,” John sighed softly. “You still have the fever?”

“Only a bit,” he mumbled.

“Have you eaten? Take your medicines?”

Alex nodded. “My agent, Tench, came last night and prepared breakfast. I just need to re-heated it,” Alex explained. But John didn’t look like he was satisfied with the answer.

“Alright, you’ll stay in our apartment so one of us can keep an eye on you,” John sighed. “Lafayette and Adrienne will return tonight, and Herc can cook something light for you. You don’t look good, Alex.”

“I’m fine. I don’t want to bother—“

“Nope. Not hearing that. Get your things and come with us to 1777,” John ordered. Alex just stared at him with wide eyes before he relented and nodded to get his things and went to the trio’s place to stay until he got better. Alex just followed as the two friends dragged him across the hallway, with John unlocking the door and practically carried Alex and set him up on the couch.

Before Alex could say anything, suddenly he had pillows, blankets, and settled down comfortably on the couch. He had to admit, John, Laf, and Herc had the most comfortable couch, and with Alex’s small figure, he could fit on it comfortably. John took his temperature again, checking with Alex the medicines he took. Hercules was in the kitchen, making something light for Alex since it was almost lunch time.

Alex couldn’t help but blushing with both men fussing over him. It reminded him of Martha when she was fussing over him whenever Alex was sick. John and Hercules took the mothering part like fishes taken to water. In two hours, Alex already settled under the blanket, already ate his lunch and took his medicines and forced to have a nap.

“But I have so much work to do…” Alex frowned when John took away his laptop and set it out of Alex’s reach.

“No. Sleep first, then you can work for two hours,” John said firmly.

“John…”

“Sleep. Then you can work for a bit.”

Alex sighed but he still nodded. He didn’t have the energy to argue with John, and honestly, the medicines made him sleepy. He pulled his blanket closer and curled up before falling asleep.

The warm food and familiar couch gave him a sense of comfort.

Just like rivers and beaches.

Familiar.

Home.

When Lafayette and Adrienne returned, both of them were surprised to see Alex curling up on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket like a giant burrito, and deeply asleep. His hair was sprawled over the pillow, and he still looked too pale to be deemed healthy. It was John who explained about Alex’s fever and they couldn’t just leave Alex in his apartment alone to fend for himself. Hercules agreed to stay at home more since he didn’t really have to return to the shop until a week after New Year, he had his employees and co-workers that would handle everything. Lafayette and Adrienne didn’t have a plan to go out of town, so they could help. Though Alex was a grown man, he didn’t really need to be coddled, but watching his asleep making him looked younger and vulnerable, no one could abandon him without feeling like they just kicked a puppy.

Lafayette and Adrienne settled down on the loveseat, telling John about the cabin they were staying and how Lafayette had been trying to build a fire with sticks and stones, only gave up and used matches like modern human. The cabin was cold, sure, as someone would expect in the middle of winter, but Lafayette told him about the amazing shots he got during their stay.

“I could show you from my camera, but there are some private photos I don’t want to share with you, mon ami,” he wiggled his eyebrows and grinned smugly at John. Adrienne was blushing beside him.

John groaned.

“So, tell me, have you give Alex his present?” Lafayette asked.

“Ah… not yet. We’re kind of… busy taking care of him,” John chuckled.

“Good! Then Adrienne and I aren’t late for it!” Lafayette clapped his hands and motioned to a bag settled under the coffee table. “Adrienne added this really stunning piece to my present so we can give it to him together.”

“That’s really nice, Laf,” John smiled and nodded. “I feel bad I didn’t come back sooner after he came back to New York with fever. He said his fever was down when he took off from DC, but it looked like he did something stupid before he fully recovered so the fever spiked again.”

“Not stupid… Just walked around the city…” the figure curling up on the couch muttered, making everyone turned their attention to him.

“Which is the very definition of ‘something stupid’, Hamilton,” John put the back of his hand to Alex’s forehead to feel his temperature. “Still a bit hot.”

“Want to work…”

“No.”

“You promised.”

“Dinner, meds, then work,” John bargained.

“You’re worse than my Mom.”

“I know your Mom is awesome. Everyone is worse than her.”

“Can I have a pen and paper at least?”

“No. Sleep now, we’ll wake you up for dinner.”

When Martha Washington called her son, it wasn’t Alex who picked up the phone but someone else. The man was young, from the way he sounded, and he had rather thick French accent despite his fluent English. Martha wondered who the man was since Alex always been adamant to let other eople used or answered his phone.

“Hello!” the voice greeted cheerfully, and Martha could imagine the man over the phone was smiling brightly.

“Hello. This is Martha, Alex’s Mom?” Martha returned the greeting slowly.

“Oh, yes, of course! Mrs. Washington, ne’st-ce pas?”

“Yes. Can I speak to Alex?” she asked politely.

“Alex is currently sleeping, Madame. This is his friend and neighbor, by the way. Lafayette,” the young man introduced himself.

That would explain the accent, Martha thought to herself. “So, Alex is with you? Is he okay? I tried to call him last night but he didn’t answer his phone or the text this morning, I got worried…”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Washington. Alex’s fever returned this morning, but John and Herc were there to take care of him. He is staying with us for the time being so someone could always keep an eye on him,” Lafayette said.

“Oh, thank God,” Martha sighed softly. “I was worried about letting him coming back to New York before he was fully recovered, but Alex was stubborn. I asked a longtime family friend and Alex’s literary agent, Tench Tilghman, to check up on him yesterday before Alex made him go away.”

“He’s fine now, Mrs. Washington. John is a nurse so he knows what he do,” Lafayette assured her over the phone.

“Oh that’s a relief. Thank you so much for helping Alex. Sometimes he can be too stubborn to accept any help,” Martha sighed softly. “And thank you so much for taking care of Alex all this time. Alex told me a lot about you guys. He always had a hard time making friends. I’m really glad all of you are so kind to invite Alex over for meals since he couldn’t take care of himself properly…”

“We’ll do our best, Mrs. Washington,” Lafayette said.

“Please, call me Martha,” she said kindly. “And thank you so much for your help.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Please tell Alex I called.”

“Of course, Marha.”

With short goodbyes, Martha ended the call and sighed. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the friends that took care of her boy. The man, Lafayette, sounded kind, bubbly, but responsible. His accent was nice too, Martha wondered if Alex could connect with him easily since he was fluent in French. Alex always looked more comfortable to talk in French, and as he explained to Martha, it was the language he always used with his Mama, back in the island. Rachel Faucette was half-French, and she held a fondness of his French root as far as Martha knew. Even though neither George nor Martha spoke French (Martha spoke a bit, but George could never wrapped his head around that language), they still encouraged Alex to speak the language (luckily, old family friend, Thomas Jefferson, did speak French and it was amusing watching the two argued in the said language).

Martha also wondered about Alex’s other friends, John and Hercules, who was also Lafayette’s roommates. She never spoke directly to either of them, but Alex always spoke of John with shy fondness and Hercules with warm tone in his voice. She was glad Alex had new friends now. He was never good at making friends after all; too opinionated, too workaholic, too guarded. Martha couldn’t help it but feel happy to see his new friends took care of him. Alex had friends, sure, despite him reluctant to admit it. Eliza and Angelica, along with the youngest Schuyler, Peggy, were close to him. Burr and Madison, whom he met in college, and not to mention his so-called rival, Thomas Jefferson. No matter what Alex was saying, Martha knew he cared for Thomas just like Thomas cared for him. The two of them just had their unique way to show it. Martha knew Alex stayed with Thomas for a while after the death of Thomas’ wife.

In other words, there were so many people who cared about Alex. And Alex being Alex, of course, trying to shy away from them. Even with Martha and George themselves, Alex was still a bit hesitant from time to time, yet at least he had his guard down after a while. He was, after all, being pushed to grow up much earlier in life by circumstances. Martha still remembered the sight of a small, sickly looking boy sat by himself, staring at the ocean with a battered notebook and pen on his lap. When their eyes met, Martha knew she wanted to protect the boy. His eyes looked older, wary and tired, something that no young boy should feel.

She told George about his thought on adoption.

Martha and George had wanted to have their own children. Sure, there were Jacky and Patsy, but Martha also wanted a child with George. She knew her husband loved children from the way he cared for Jacky and Patsy. Sure, when Jacky was older, their relationships strained, with Jacky mixing up with the wrong people. Sure, George and Martha sometimes got into fight about Jacky, with George tried to be stern with the boy but Martha spoiled him. Maybe that was her mistake.

When Alex came into their family, he was a sweet boy, trying to do his best. Martha couldn’t deny it, but she was grateful with Alex’s eagerness to help with the house chores. He never minded helping in the kitchen, setting up table for dinner. He always attentive, and Martha was impressed how smart her adoptive son was. He was genuinely interested on things like politics, history, economy… something that normal teenagers would find boring. He was a straight-A student, member of debate team, and so much more accomplishments under his belt. To say Martha was proud of Alex was an understatement. There was so much more inside her, that words couldn’t even describe.

Of course, George connected with Alex despite Alex’s reluctance at first. But, Alex interested on George’s work, he often asked questions about politic scene, often gave George his opinion about something he saw or read on TV or newspapers. They both would discuss politics and history for hours (George loved history, he wanted to be a history teacher before he became a Senator instead), while Martha adored at the sharp mind of her boy.

She might not have a child with George, but she had Alex and it was more than enough.

She knew she spoiled Jacky, and Patsy had gotten quieter as she got older. Sometimes, Martha wondered how it would be like if Alex was her own flesh and blood… If she was raising Alex from baby instead of taking him in when he was older… Would he be spoiled like Jacky? Withdrawn like Patsy?

Maybe it was a good thing she adopted Alex when the boy was in his early teenage years. Who knew.

But she wasn’t blind. She saw the resentment Jacky had for Alex, the way he looked at the younger boy whenever Alex was having a discussion with George, or helping Martha in the kitchen. Alex’s and Jacky’s relationship was never the best, and Martha knew, George preferred spending time with Alex than with Jacky. It was just something you couldn’t avoid. Was that meant that her husband loved Jacky less? Of course not. But Martha knew George always had some difficulties connecting with Jacky. George always stern and disciplined, and he valued hard work. And Jacky… Well, the only way Martha could put it was spoiled. It was her fault, she didn’t deny it. Jacky used to have sickly body, and Martha always enabling him, giving him less chores, giving him permission to skip school because of his “headache”. The bad thing was Jacky took advantage of it.

She and George often fought about it in the earlier years of their marriage. George tried to engage Jacky in activities, giving him light chores and schedules around the house. But Jacky would escape from it, running to Martha and telling her he had “a headache if he had to do his Math homework now”. It was the source of George’s frustration, until he decided to step back and let Martha handled her children.

Maybe that was when things started to get wrong. Maybe Martha was never suitable to raise children. Maybe Alex was her redemption. She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure.

Sometimes, when she was alone in the house, she would sit in the back porch, deep in thought, wondering if she was a good mother after all. Jacky was all grown up now, living his life as he liked. Patsy was in college, studying Biology. Alex was in New York, having an already successful career. And as she sat alone, arms propped on the chair, chins rested on her palm, thinking…

When did it go wrong?

Alex’s fever finally went down the next day. He woke up, finding himself on the familiar couch in a very familiar living room. He looked around, finding the room to be empty and wondered where the residences were. He took off the blanket and pushed himself up, staggering a bit, but he held himself up, holding on to the couch. He made his way to the kitchen, trying to get a glass of water and maybe finding his phone afterward. He glanced at the clock, still too early for anyone to wake up.

Alex wandered to the kitchen, opening the cabinet to get a glass and filled it up with water. He drank slowly, sighing when the cold water sooth his throat. He filled the glass with more water before padding back to the couch and looked for his phone.

It took him awhile until he found it. Martha texted him asking about his condition, and so was Tench. He quickly replied the message, emphasizing he wasn’t up all night, he just woke up from sleep. He felt better now, though his clothes felt sticky and he wanted to take a shower to freshen up.

“I see you’re already awake.”

Alex turned to see John was already up and dressed, carrying his backpack with him.

“Are you heading out?” Alex asked curiously.

“Yeah. A friend asked to cover his shift,” John said softly as he crouched down to check on Alex. He felt his forehead; making Alex blushed slightly since their faces were pretty close and Alex knew he probably smelled bad at the moment. “Your fever is down, but I bet you still feel a bit of the dizziness,” John smiled. “Try to get some sleep a bit more. Herc and Laf will stay at home today.”

“Hmmm… What about Adrienne? I thought Laf would want to spend time with his fiancée? I felt bad if he and Adrienne have to stay home because of me…” Alex mumbled.

“Nah. Adrienne has a girls’ day out with Eliza Schuyler. They’re probably best friends now and ready to trade their first-born sons with each other at this point,” John chuckled. “Don’t worry, okay? You’re not a burden to us, and we want to take care of you.” John ruffled Alex’s hair gently. “I’ll be back as soon as the shift is over. Don’t stay too long on your phone or computer and don’t forget to take your medicines.”

“Okay,” Alex nodded.

“Before I forget, here’s your Christmas present,” John smiled as handed a neatly wrapped package. “Merry Christmas, Alex.”

With a small smile, John walked up to the door, putting on his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck. Alex blushed shyly when he saw the familiar scarf with turtle patterns, and John seemed to follow his gaze.

“Thanks for the scarf, Alex,” John grinned. “Bye!”

He waved and closed the door behind him.

Alex eyed the package and carefully unwrapped it. Inside was leather bound notebook, with his initial monogrammed beautifully. He was smiling as he put the notebook aside carefully, pulled his blanket closer to his chin and lay himself down on the couch. His stomach clenched, and his chest felt warm.

Maybe it was the fever.

Alex buried his face to the pillow before he let sleep took over again.