Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alex sighed. He looked up from the many sheets of paper littering his desk and peered out the window. The sun had set a long time ago, replaced with a cloudy black sky. The full moon could be seen behind the drifting fog.

Dipping his pen carefully into his ink jar and sitting back, Alex resumed staring blankly at the piece of paper before him. Hours had passed by, but all he'd managed to write was "Dear Mr. Jefferson,". It wasn't like him to have writers block; the feeling unsettled him. After a few moments he gave up and distracted himself by fingering the large, heavy ring that lay on the desk beside him, with it’s sparkling dark blue gemstone.

"Mr. Hamilton, sir?"

Alex jumped. He scrambled up from his chair, guiltily shoving the ring into his pocket and attempting to straighten his shirt, but saw there was no need:

"Oh, Burr, I didn't hear you come in,"

Burr loitered in the doorway a moment, then stepped inside the small room. "I'm sorry to interrupt your... work." He said, wrinkling his nose at the disarray of the place. Alex glanced back at the nearly blank parchment on his desk, then moved to block it from Burr's view. "It's fine, I could use a break from all the-- the tasks at hand."

"Couldn't we all.." Burr seemed to drift into thought, stroking his chin and observing a shelf of books near the wall. He looked as exhausted as Alex felt, if not more so.

"Is there... something you wanted?" Alex said slowly.

Burr frowned and returned his gaze to Alex. "You could say that,"

"If you'd like to talk in private, I'd suggest my office-"

"No, I was thinking... a walk outside... some fresh air..." Burr drifted back toward the door.
"Oh, right. Yes. I'll just, um, get my coat." said Alex.

-------------

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Burr murmured thoughtfully once they were outside. Alex nodded absently, shoving his hands in his pockets where he could feel the ring bump against his fingers. It was cold and dark out, and the heavy fog blurred the horizon. Alex shivered.

"Hamilton, I've been meaning to ask you something," Burr murmured.

Alex startled at the formal greeting. "You don't have to call me that. There's no one around..."

"Ah, I suppose you're right. My apologies." Burr stared out into the fog as they walked. His face looked ghostly in the moonlight, with huge shadows beneath his eyes. Alex stifled an enormous yawn. He wanted dearly to be back indoors, in the soft comfort of his bed.

Finally, Burr slowed. The fog was so thick now, nothing even a few meters away was visible. Then he turned on his heel and grabbed Alex by the jacket collar, pulling him close.

Alex opened his mouth to cry out, then froze. Burr's lips met his with such force, such longing, he didn't dare pull away. Despite his hammering heart and buzzing thoughts, Alex felt himself wrap his arms around Burr's frame, pulling him closer. Their faces melded together; Burr's soft, lithe fingers found the hem of Alex's shirt, gently digging into his flesh; his hair. There was a groan; it could have come from either of them. The world dissolved.

Finally, Burr reluctantly pulled away. Alex’s fingers clenched around his arms, keeping his body close. He could feel Burr's warm breath against his neck: their eyes met.

"Alexander," Burr whispered breathlessly. Alex swallowed. For the first time in ages, a sliver of a smile appeared on Burr's face. "I have to ask you... what did you do with that ring?"

There was a pause. Alex's eyes fell to Burr's lips for a moment. He didn't feel like making confessions; after all, why should Burr care?

"Let's talk less," Alex grinned, and reached for Burr's chin once more, closing his eyes.
But just as their lips met, a third voice came out of the fog:

"Not so fast, monsieur Hamilton."

Alex jumped, tripped, and fell backward. Burr didn't reach to catch his fall. Panic blurring his thoughts, Alex hit the ground and scrambled to his feet, pain flaring in his elbow. "What the hell?!"

Lafayette stepped out of the fog. He was wearing nothing but an oversized, stained t-shirt and sweatpants, yet he looked far from cold. His eyes slipped from Burr to Alex, narrowing while Alex hurriedly did up his shirt and coat.

"I see you 'ave both fallen into ze trap of a fog;" Lafayette smirked. "It is not like nobody else exists just because you can not see zem."

Alex scowled. "Have you been here this whole time?"

Lafayette raised an eyebrow. "What do you sink?"

"Well, um," Burr cleared his throat. "I suppose I should head home," His voice had become low and cautious. "Theodosia will be--"

"A-a-ah," Lafayette turned back to Burr, looking rather amused. "Don't run away just yet, Burr. You don't want to leave wisout your questions answered, do you?... He drifted off, raising an eyebrow, and his gaze returned to a fuming Alex.

Alex had been shaking with the effort to restrain himself. "What are you playing at, Laf?! I didn't start any of this! I was just-- Burr--" He turned to Burr, whose face was dark and flustered.

"Hamilton--" He started defensively.

"And why the fuck is everyone calling me Hamilton?!" Alex exclaimed. "Is this some kind of setup?! Burr, did you--?"

"Sacre bleu-- Calm down! People will 'ere!" Lafayette shouted over him. Alex flipped him off but shut his mouth, grinding his teeth. Burr looked very much like he wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

Rolling back his shoulders, Lafayette turned and gestured for them to follow him. "C'mon. I know somewhere we can address zis in private."

The three of them lumbered through the thick fog. Burr trailed behind, glancing around every so often. He was acting strange, Alex noted, now that Laf was here. Was there something he knew that Alex didn't?

Evidently, Burr wasn't the only one wondering about that ring. That ring. Alex sighed inwardly. He was going to have to do something about it eventually. Hiding it wouldn't make it disappear.
"Zese fogs 'ave been getting worse lately," Lafayette said lightly. "I 'ave to admit, I sort of like zem. Very mysterious."

For once, Alex said nothing. Burr's voice floated up behind him. "I suppose the fog can be nice. Sometimes we take advantage of what it hides, don't we, Mr. Lafayette?"

Lafayette froze. Alex nearly ran into him. "Hey--"

"What did you say?"

Lafayette's voice had grown low and dark. He slowly turned around and faced Burr. There was a look on his face that Alex couldn't place.

Burr raised his eyebrows. "There is no point pretending."

Lafayette stared at him. Then he gulped.

"W-what's going on?" Alex stammered. Lafayette didn't seem to hear him. Slowly, very slowly, he tipped his head back, looking up at the sky. Alex followed his gaze: the full moon was shining through a gap in the fog.

The look on Lafayette's face morphed into one Alex had hardly ever seen there: Complete and utmost terror.

"Run!" Lafayette screamed. "Quick! Go straight srough ze fog - zere's a boarding house - small door, unlocked - go!

"What?! But--"
"NOW!"

Feeding off of Lafayette's fear, Alex and Burr sprinted in the direction they'd been walking. As they ran, the fog suddenly began to clear. It drifted away, revealing a seldom-used dirt path that winded between trees and shrubs. Alex's heart thundered in his throat.

Finally, they approached a long, low-roofed warehouse with a small red door. Alex raced ahead, grabbed the door handle and thrust it open. He and Burr dove inside.

Panting, Alex stood and peered around. There were no lights on, but the moonlight shining through the leaking windows revealed what looked like a clumsily-arranged living room. Two sagging couches stood around a coffee table, which was littered with chips and tall beer glasses. An empty wine bottle lay on the ground. It looked like two people had been playing cards.

"This is their boarding house, isn't it," Alex muttered.

"Whose?"

"Y'know- Herc, John, and Laf..." Alex couldn't help chuckling to himself.

"Uh, shouldn't we be more concerned about Lafayette?" Burr said, his voice sounding much higher than normal.

"Yeah, I'm working on it," Alex approached an oil lamp resting on the coffee table and picked it up. "I thought it might be nice if we could see."

"Well I think you might want to see this,"

Alex turned. Burr was peering out one of the windows, his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Frowning, Alex moved to join him. Outside, the fog had cleared completely. A hill rose up before them, the dirt path they'd run engraved in it. And at the top of the hill-

"Oh," Alex breathed.

Lafayette stood there, his whole body contorted with pain. He writhed where he stood, blue veins bursting out on his pale skin, grunting and gasping for breath. But scariest of all were his eyes. They had gone from dark and brown to an iridescent yellow that glowed in the night.
Alex watched in the pale moonlight, paralysed, as Lafayette began to change. He grew taller, his arms and legs elongating. His upper body swelled with muscles that bulged and stretched silver skin across his shoulders and down his arms and chest until his oversized t-shirt could barely contain them. His ribs stuck out against his skin, all the fat on him vanishing. Silvery fur sprouted across his back and coated him in a patchy mixture of black and grey. Where hands and feet had been, paws with claws the length of fingers that were sharpened to immaculate points. His face stretched out into a snout and huge teeth filled his maw. The only recognisable distinction between him and any other werewolf was the curly black-brown hair that sprouted from his head and poofed out over his left eye, and the tips of his ears.

Fully transformed, the wolf-Lafayette threw back his head and howled.

The low, mournful sound reverberated across the earth, sending shivers down Alex's spine.

"Fuck. N-now w-what?" Burr squeaked, bringing Alex out of his trance.

"Um..." Alex scratched his head. "Well, he's out there, and we're in here..."

"Oh please. This isn't the time for sarcasm."

"I'm not being sarcastic. There isn't a lot we can do." Alex stuffed his hands in his pockets and moved away from the window. Burr lit the oil lamp with shaky hands and hung it by the door, then crossed the room and collapsed on the couch. He looked so drained Alex thought he might be a corpse in the grey moonlight.

Alex explored the building. There was a kitchen with firewood, a wine cellar (which was half empty), and a hallway with three rooms that Alex assumed were bedrooms.

The knowledge that John Laurens was behind one of these doors, fast asleep, made Alex giddy. A large part of him wanted desperately to crawl into bed beside him and erase this whole mess. But he knew that he couldn't avoid what he'd gotten into.

Sighing heavily, Alex walked back down the hall. He stopped by the cellar and snatched a bottle of whiskey and came back with two glasses. He handed one to Burr who took it without looking at him and drained it in one draft.

Alex refilled his glass, and the two of them sat in silence. Alex tapped his fingers against the rim of his glass, and his mind’s eye fell once again on the stolen ring in his pocket, it’s weight seeming to double. Finally, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry,"

"For?"

"Everything. This is all my fault."

"It's your fault Lafayette is a werewolf?"

"No, but--"

He was interrupted by another howl from outside. This time, it was much closer.

As though he'd been waiting for this moment, Burr leaped to his feet and pulled a knife from his pocket.

Alex glanced at the tiny blade and raised an eyebrow. "You think that's gonna do anything?"

Burr glared daggers at him. "Hurry. He might not come through the door."

Alex stood, scanning for a weapon, and grabbed the empty bottle lying on the ground.

The howling had stopped. There was a moment of complete silence, apart from Alex's pounding heart. Then the small door crashed to the floor.

The wolf-Lafayette stood in the doorway. His breaths were ragged, and his glowing eyes flickered like balls of fire. When he spoke, his voice was hardly more than a growl.

"Vous sentez délicieux, petits bâtards."

Burr instinctively grabbed Alex's hand. "What did he say?" He whispered in his ear. Alex knit his eyebrows together. "Um, in direct translation, he said 'You smell delicious, little bastards'."

Burr made a sound similar to that of a drowning kitten, then fainted. Fainted.

"You have got to be kidding me." Alex groaned.

the wolf-Lafayette laughed. It was a strange, cackling, barking sound, edged with a growl.

"Il est temps de mourir, saucisses humaines."

He lunged forward, claws out, teeth bared. Alex braced himself, raising the wine bottle above his head. There was a smash of broken glass. A howl. Alex felt his feet leave the ground, then he flew through the air.

With a bone-crushing thud, Alex hit the far wall of the room. He collapsed to the ground, the air knocked out of him. Pain arched from his shoulder like fire.

Through the black spots dancing across his vision, Alex saw the wolf-Lafayette grab Burr by the neck and lift him with one hand. In a daze, he watched his friend-turned-monster take one look at Burr's limp body, and gouge his teeth into Burr's chest.

"NOOOOOO!" Alex screamed. He tried to get up, but any movement sent a wave of pain down his arm. Helpless, he screwed his eyes shut against the sounds of the wolf-Lafayette's teeth ripping into the flesh of his friend - and against the tears.

Slowly, the sounds grew faint. Darkness clouded Alex's vision. The pain became dull and unrelenting. And the world gave way to nothing.

Chapter Text

John Laurens hugged his pillows and murmured something in his sleep. He'd been having a nightmare. A bunny-rabbit with red eyes and giant teeth kept chasing after him, trying to bite off his feet. Whenever it got close he hit it on the head with a spatula, but that only aggravated the annoying little creature. John wished it would just leave him alone so he could get some sleep--

John groaned and opened his eyes. Something had woken him. Annoyed at being disturbed, he rolled over and curled up under the covers, willing sleep to take hold of him once more.

There it was again. A cough, coming from somewhere in the house.

John sat up and rubbed his eyes, confused. Yawning, he got out of bed and peered into the hallway. There was a light on in the living room. John pulled on his bathrobe and slippers and made his way down the hall. What time is it? He wondered groggily.

Stepping into the living room, John froze. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes, but what he saw didn't change.

The floor was covered in blood. A pile of torn flesh lay scattered in the puddle, and it took John a moment to realize it was Burr. He gagged and looked away. At the base of the far wall was another lump, though it was far less bloody and far more recognizable. John couldn't hold in his scream.

"ALEX!" He ran forward, but an arm thrust out in front of him.

"Don't touch 'im."

John swiveled his head around to see Lafayette blocking his path. "Is he dead? Get out of the way!"

Lafayette didn't budge. John growled in desperate frustration. "What the hell happened?"

Lafayette muttered incoherently under his breath. "Pourquoi ne demandez-vous pas au fils de pute, peut-être qu'il peut vous embrasser et vous saurez alors..."

John was about to punch him in the face, before he noticed the blood on Lafayette's hands and and around his mouth, and the slight glow to his eyes. He was filled with a sinking dread.

"It's that time of the month, isn't it?"

Lafayette snarled at him.

"Please tell me you at least tried not to hurt them,"

"Of course I tried--" Lafayette winced, putting a hand on his stomach. "Merde. Human hearts are terrible for digestion."

John ran a hand through his hair. "Laf, this is serious. What happened?"

"Well, Burr is... dead;” said Laf, waving a dismissive hand to the pool of remains, “but Alex should be fine. Just unconscious... probably broke some bones. I'll call ze 'ospital, I guess,"

John glanced back at Alex, who could have been asleep apart from the odd angle of his right arm and the blood pooling from his nose, and sighed. "Fine. He needs a hospital, but I'll call them. You should go get some sleep before the night's over."

Lafayette stared at him, looking like he wanted to say something, then thought better of it. He stood and brushed his bloodstained hands across his shirt. "Alright, I'll just wash up first."

--------

The sun was already rising by the time Lafayette disposed of Burr’s body in the back alley, humming to himself all along, then mopped up the leftover blood that hadn’t already stained the hardwood floors. He mused over whether he should be concerned about the stains, but decided it was probably fine.

Outside, a thunderous rainstorm was blowing the bucketing rain against the windows. John had hastily left with Alex on the ambulance hours ago, and he would no doubt have a very wet walk home.

Sighing, Laf plopped onto the couch and picked up the nearest book: it was a thick, dusty novel, with a title printed in simple lettering.

“Ze… complete, er, works, of…” He squinted. “Shakespeare?”

He closed the moldy cover. He was terrible at reading in english, and besides, his stomach ache made it hard to focus.

Suddenly, there was the click of keys in the door and it swung inward. A dripping wet John stumbled through it.

“Ah, il est de retour,” Laf greeted him.

“Oui.” John said bluntly. He pulled off his soaking hoodie and shirt, and squeezed the water out of them onto the floor, then tossed them aside.

“Ay, you’d better clean that up,” Laf scolded. John just nodded absently and crossed the room without looking around. He collapsed onto the couch across from Laf and pulled the elastic out of his damp curly hair, then shook it out to try and dry it somewhat. He looked exhausted.
“Will your boyfriend live?” Laf asked.

“Yeah, just a broken arm. The doctors all reassured me that he was fine about a million times, so I decided to just give up and believe them.”

“A wise choice.” Laf cracked a kind smile, and John returned it weakly.

“There’s something else that’s been bothering me, Laf. I know I should just be worrying about Alex right now, but for some reason this other thing’s been bugging me like crazy since… last night.” said John, picking up a die from some old board game that’d been left out and fiddling with it between his fingers. Laf set down the old Shakespeare book and leaned forward, tucking his thumb under John’s chin and tilting his head up so that their eyes met. “Mon ami, you know I can keep a secret. What’s troubling you?”

John sighed and looked away. “I’ve lost something. Something important.” He whispered, suddenly sounding urgent. “But, like, super important. I’ve looked everywhere, I’ve tried to put it out of my mind, but if I don’t find it soon--” He suddenly looked panicked.

“John, slow down,” Laf warned, taking John’s cold hand in his. “What did you lose?”

“I…” John took a deep breath. “I lost the Ring of Redemption.”

Admitting this appeared to cause John visible pain, and he crossed his arms over his stomach, hugging himself, his head lowered in shame.

Laf tried not to sound too impatient as he asked “And remind me what this Ring of Redemption is? Because it sounds pretty important to me.”

“It is,” John whined, looking up for the first time. “It was created by my father, Henry Laurens. When I was a kid our family was... was attacked by a werewolf."

Lafayette's face grew dark. "Non."

"Oui. It came out of the trees one night, and my mother, Eleanor... she, she was out, in the... the garden... and..." it got too difficult to talk, and John stopped, slowing his breath, and trying to keep back the tears that threatened to overflow onto his cheeks.

Lafayette put his arm around John's shoulders. "Mon ami," he said soothingly. "I'm so sorry..."

John swallowed and continued. "Well, anyway. After that my father changed. He was always angry, always shouting at me and my sisters and brothers. He swore that he would avenge my mother's death. That he would destroy any magical beast that dared to harm his family. And so..." John shrugged. "He hired a sorcerer to create this gemstone. The Ring of Redemption was forged in our own basement. Years passed, and I never knew."

After a silence, Laf said softly, "Well, what does it do?"

"If the gemstone is broken, it sucks out the soul of every magical being it has ever come in contact with." John said, “Luckily, it’s only ever come in contact with one of those.” His voice was thick with disdain.

There was a silence. Laf stared at John, his eyes wide. “John,” he breathed, “You’re telling me zis thing could literally KILL you and you LOST IT?!”

“I know! I fucked up!” John put his head in his hands. “I fucked up and now I’m fucking going to die!”

Suddenly, a strange glint in his eye, John got to his feet and strode past a stammering Lafayette and toward the cellar. He reached the door and thrust it open, disappearing inside.

Laf got to his feet aswell, making a move to follow, then hesitated. Something told him he shouldn't get too involved in this. After all, John was clearly already worried enough about putting his life on the line, so it might not be best if he--

“Hey, Laf!” John’s voice called from within the cellar. “Why is my safe open?”

Laf faltered, chewing his tongue. Finally he hollered back, “’Ow should I know?”

"Fuck," There was the sound of digging around, and something smashed on the ground. "Someone raided my stuff!"

Laf groaned and stood up. "Are you sure it wasn't you?"

John reappeared in the doorway, his arms full of empty wine bottles and a look of fear on his face. "I swear it wasn't me. I keep that stuff locked up for a reason."

Laf frowned. "Zat doesn't make sense. You sink I stole it? Or 'erc? I mean, who else--"

"I don't know, but it's not there!" John's voice was rising in pitch. He looked on the verge of panic.

"Connerie," Lafayette spoke soothingly, "Calm down, for 'eaven's sake." He stepped forward to take the bottles from John's arms, but he hugged them to his chest.

"Stop it Laf, I'm serious!"

They were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening once more. Hercules Mulligan burst inside, his arms full of groceries, and hurriedly shut it behind him. "Jesus Christ is it c-cold out th-there," He chattered. Lafayette shot John what he hoped was a "we'll finish this later" look, then grinned and rushed to help Herc with the food.

"What did you buy, chérie?"

"I hope you guys like chicken, cus' that's all the butcher had. Maybe we can make chicken soup, or chicken curry, or—"

He was cut off by a deafening slam as John went to his bedroom and shut the door.

Herc's eyebrows knit together, and he looked back to Laf. "What up with him?"

Laf sighed. "He’s a bit, er, stressed." He glanced back at the cellar, which was still open a crack.

"Well, um," Herc said slowly. "Maybe you can help me prep this chicken, and we can head to the bar after dinner if you want..."

Laf rubbed his temples. He figured John would be fine, whatever was going on. Maybe he just needed some time alone.

"Aright, zat sounds good. C'mon, let's figure out 'ow to work zat new stove."

Chapter Text

Alex scowled. Then again, he'd been scowling since he got here. The pain in his arm had been reduced to a dull throbbing, and he was practically high with all the drugs and painkillers and other shit they'd put into his system. He could hardly wait for one of the creepily emotionless doctors to come and announce that they'd switched to feeding him baby formula.

As if reading his thoughts, someone pulled open his curtains and came inside. It was not a doctor, but a nurse with short, straight dark hair that flopped over one half of his face in a surprisingly attractive way. He was smiling one of the kindest, most remarkably sincere and contagious smiles Alex had ever seen. Alex scowled harder.

"I’m your new nurse, Charles Lee. by the way, if you keep making that face I'll bring you lime juice instead of coffee." the nurse scolded, smiling kindly.

"What do you want? To poke me with more needles?"

Lee laughed. His laugh was like sunshine and flowers. Alex scowled so hard he didn't think he'd ever be able to stop. Why are you so fucking nice?!

"Actually, I'm here with news," said Lee, checking Alex's vitals and nodding to himself.

"Shocker." Alex slumped in bed.

"You can leave today."

Suddenly the scowl was gone. "Really?" Alex sat up so fast he accidentally bumped his arm and bit his lip against a curse.

Lee laughed again. "Yep. You're free to go. All your stuff is here, so I'll just let the doc know and you're all clear."

Alex felt a smile creep onto his face and he blushed. "... Thank you , Lee."

"Oh please, call me Charles. Also, can you do me a solid and let your boyfriend know I said hi? He and I had a bit of a chat while you were out, before he left.” Charles explained at Alex’s confused look. 

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Alex mumbled. 

Awesome, thanks man. Anyways, I’d better go-- If we ever do cross paths again..." He grinned, waved goodbye and disappeared through the curtain.

Alex swung his legs over the edge of the bed and was ready to leave in minutes. Excitement surged through him with new energy. Finally , he could go back home.

As he got into his car and checked his phone, he saw there was a text from John.

All he'd said was 'Get better and get over here.'

"Huh," Alex shrugged and drove east, to the boardhouse.

Back at the house, Alex didn't care to knock but burst inside, a huge grin on his face. "Guys! Hey! I'm back! I—"

His voice died in his throat. The lights were all off, except for the glow of the fire. There was no one in the living room, but a light shone in the kitchen. Suddenly Herc's head poked around the corner and a sheepish smile formed over his lips. "Oh...hey, Alex,"

Alex's face burned and he quickly took off his shoes and jacket. "Uh, hey. Did I interrupt something?"

"Oh, no. Well, not really..." Herc glanced back in the kitchen. Then Alex realized his clothes looked like they'd just been tossed on, and his hair was standing on end.

"Um, I'll keep out of the way," Alex scratched his head. "I was just— I wondered if— is John here?"

Herc scratched the back of his leg with his foot. "Yeah. He's in his room."

————

John lay on his back, staring and the ceiling and clutching the sides of the bed. His skin was pale and coated in sweat, and his breaths were shaky, but he didn't let go. Hunger - aching, empty hunger - gnawed at his stomach. He wasn't sure how long he could last, not without those precious bottles of blood. He silently vowed to kill whoever had stolen them. That is, if he didn't die first.

The door handle turned. He sat up with immense difficulty and squinted in the light that shone through the crack in the doorway. "Hey, shut that."

Whoever it was came inside and closed the door behind them. There was silence for a moment, then, "...John?"

"Alex?"

"You said you wanted me here."

John's mind was blurred, but he felt a grin crack on his dry lips, and he licked them longingly.

"Come closer. Sit on the bed."

Alex hesitated, then did as he was told. "I can't really see, you know. Why does it have to be so dark?"

John reached for Alex's collar and helped him undo his shirt, being careful not to let his hands shake with desire. Luckily when he spoke, his voice was strong and steady.

"Some things are best done in total darkness."

Then before he could stop himself, he pulled Alex toward his and sank his long, needle-sharp canines into his throat. He sighed with satisfaction when thick, tangy red liquid filled his mouth and slid down his throat.

He'd never tasted more delicious blood.

Chapter Text

Dear Mr. Washington,                                                                                                                     Sept. 19th

It's Alex. I'm addressing you by last name due to the fact that I am currently situated among friends and feared their questioning of our unique relationship, though I trust you to understand that I will always refer to you by heart as my father.

The past few hours have brought confusion, terror, and dread over me to the extent that I thought I might seek your guidance and understanding in a personal time of such betrayal. I know not why or how this came to occur, but my closest of friends, John Laurens (I trust I have told you of him in the past) has turned traitor on me in ways I could never have dreamed of. In my last letter I do believe I mentioned the fact that my other friend, Lafayette, has turned out to be a werewolf. This little detail unnerved me to say the least, but I have come to understand that he by no means wishes to harm anyone, and merely revealed his monstrous side as an accident that he could not control. However, the mishap that has occurred between John and I has left me rather, well, I don't have a word for it. The thing is, I should be dead.

Alex leaned back in his chair and sighed. The handwriting was so unrecognizably terrible, having been written by his left hand, he doubted that Washington would be able to read it anyway.

He spun around in his chair and saw John leaning against the doorframe, a slightly mistified expression on his face.

Alex slammed a hand over his letter far louder than he'd intended to. " What."

" I... I can't believe I did that," John said slowly. His skin was pink and sweaty.

"Well, you let it fucking sink in. I'll wait."

"I'm... not sorry." John seemed surprised at his own words.

Alex groaned in frustration. "Jackie, why didn't you tell me you were a... a..." He shuddered against the word.

"I've been a vampire since college," John said, his voice remaining distant.

"Well, thanks a lot for recruiting me, I guess. How do v-- how do vampires work, exactly?"

John stared at him like he had just asked for the square root of pi. Then he grinned a lopsided grin and laughed a little. "It's easy. When humans drink the blood of Christ, we drink the blood of humansssss." he drawled.

Alex's anger faded at the slur of his words. He stood and took John's hands in his, looking him straight in the eye. "I think you're drunk, John."

John's grin widened and he laughed loudly. "Hah! Drunk?! That'simposssible..." He swayed on his feet. "I don't get drunk, Lex, I'm a vampiiiiire... !" he stuck out his tongue and waved his arms in a surprisingly creepy way. 

Perplexed, Alex held John's shoulders and guided him to the chair, where he sat him down. John continued to grin at him, oblivious to the world. "Your eyes..." He tilted his head. "There's something wrong with your eyes, Alex. They're all glittery..."

Alex knit his eyebrows together. "Okay, you aren't drunk. What drugs did you take?"

"Stop talking and listen to me Lexi. It's your blood. There's something in it..." Before he could finish, John's eyes crossed and his head fell forward onto his chest. Alex caught him and, heart thundering, moved him to the bed beside the desk. He was already snoring when his head hit the pillow.

Alex left the room, shoving his hands in his pockets. "He'll be fine," he muttered to himself. "There are other things I have to worry about now."

He turned into the living room, and found himself face-to-face with Lafayette.

"Oh," Laf's eyes fell to his arm, which was still in a sling, and he grimaced. "Merde. I'm sorry about zat,  Alex," he laughed nervously.

Alex stared at him. The image of the yellow eyes, the fur, the claws, flashed before him. Burr .

"I'll never forgive you for that. What you did."

"Look, I couldn't control it , it was—"

"I don't care. You killed him. He... he... ." Alex didn't know how to say it. What had that kiss been, anyway?

Laf opened his palms. "Please, Alex... you 'ave to understand, I didn't mean—"

"Bullshit!" Alex grabbed him by the shirt collar and spoke through gritted teeth. "You always hated him. From the beginning. I don't give a shit what you tell me—"

"TAIS-TOI!" Laf slammed a hand on the bookshelf and Alex jumped from surprise. Laf snarled, the action so wolf-like Alex couldn't help but wince in fear.

"I was trying to save your life , you salaud."

Alex flinched and shut his eyes, then squinted at him. "Huh?"

"Zat's right. If I had really done what I should have, you would be a heap of flesh and bones."

Taking a step back, Alex fell onto the couch. His mind was reeling. "I— I don't think I'm following you."

Laf sighed and sat down across from him. The anger drained out of both of them. "It's alright. I should 'ave told you before any of zis 'appened. You see, my attack on you... wasn't an accident."

Alex leaned forward, trying hard to be intrigued so as not to end up strangling Laf before he finished talking. "Go on."

"Burr hired me. He bought me a few drinks. Told me to meet him zere, in ze park. I don't know how, but somehow he knew it was a full moon that night. And he knew what I was."

Alex blinked, disbelieving. "That's ridiculous. He couldn't have known all that. And what you're saying is that he was trying to kill me."

"Zat's exactly what I'm saying." Laf's voice had gone low and serious.

Alex burst out laughing. "C'mon Laf, you saw! He was making out with me! Why on earth would he try to kill me?!

"I don't know." Laf gazed somewhere over his shoulder. "All I know is when I'm Wolfyette, I can smell everything ; And when I found you guys, you know what I smelled? A trick. A dirty trick."

"Well that's just grand. So let me get this straight: Burr wanted to kill me, now he's dead, John is a vampire, I'm a vampire, and you are a werewolf who eats hearts and can smell everything. As far as I can tell, my whole life is turning out to be a trick." He ran a hand through his hair, restless with frustration. "I mean, is there anyone who's human? I'm guessing Herc's gonna turn out to be a, what, half-giant or something, right?"

"I heard that!" Herc's voice called from the kitchen. Alex groaned. He stood up, then swayed, suddenly dizzy.

"You good?" Laf asked.

"... Yeah," Alex put a hand to his head. "Just... stood up too fast."

"Sure." Laf picked up a newspaper and hid behind it. Alex shook his head to clear it and left to use the bathroom.

Alex gripped the edges of the sink and tried to slow his breathing. He felt odd; had since he'd woken up that morning. He felt stronger, more alert, but more drained at the same time. It was as if someone had taken him and wringed him out like a towel, only to stuff him back into another, less human body. Almost absent-mindedly, he ran his tongue along his teeth, and sure enough, found the smooth, sharpened shapes of fangs on either side of his jaw. Shuddering, he shook the hair out of his face and raised his head. 

looking back at him in the mirror, was nothing.

Alex blinked. He rubbed his eyes. Still, nothing. He raised a hand and touched the perfectly reflective surface, but nothing changed in the lifeless image it portrayed of the wall behind him. Then, hands shaking, Alex picked up the bar of soap and held it within the mirror's view. Sure enough, the soap appeared, hovering in midair. 

Alex jumped and dropped the soap into the sink. He felt frantically for the door handle, the image of the floating soap taking hold of his vision, and burst out of the room as quickly as he could. 

"This can't be happening," he murmured, heart thundering. "I can't be a vampire. It has to be a dream..."

Dazed, he wandered back to John's bedroom. John lay curled up on his side, snoring gently. Alex yawned, suddenly exhausted, and tossing aside his daily clothes, got in and curled up beside John without hesitation. The covers were warm, and he was content to lie and watch John's chest rise and fall.

Suddenly John's breath caught and he rolled over, murmuring something that sounded a lot like "Alex". He groaned and muttered "Poison ... lies... turn back... tuuuurn baaaack...". Then he hiccuped and resumed snoring.

Troubled, Alex watched him silently. His skin was still pale and clammy. A half-moon shone through the window, and eventually the sound of John's even snores and the warmth of his back against him lulled Alex softly to sleep.

Chapter Text

Alex awoke to the sound of his stomach growling. He cracked open his eyes and blearily stared around, wondering vaguely where he was. Then his vision cleared and he saw John sitting at a desk beside the bed.

"Good... morning?" He slurred.

"Afternoon, actually," John spun in his chair and grinned at Alex. His skin had returned to it's usual colour and he looked completely healthy. Better than normal, even.

"I'm starving ," Alex moaned, curls up in a ball under the covers. "And cold."

"Your body's still adjusting," John explained casually. "Now that you're a vampire you'll have to get used to being hungry. Blood is terribly inaccessible nowadays."

"Ugh."

"Don't worry. I've got it taken care of."

Alex sat up in bed, still wrapped in blankets. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Trust me. I have some connections." He winked, then got up and went to the door. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere. Also, your arm healed overnight so I took the cast off. Hope you don't mind."

Alex's eyes widened and he lifted his arm, staring at it in awe. "... Hell yeah ."

"See? Being a vampire isn't that terrible," John grinned. "'Kay, I'll be right--"

"No way." Alex slid out of bed. "I'm coming. I need to see your sources."

John gazed at him a moment, looking torn, then sighed. "Fine. C'mon."

He led Alex out into the kitchen. Herc and Laf were nowhere to be found, but the place still smelled like bacon and eggs and Alex had to chew his tongue against the hunger that was gnawing at him.

John sat up on the counter and pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting someone."

Alex came closer and tried to see over John's shoulder, but he held the phone out of reach. "Hey, don't read it!"

Alex crossed his arms. "Well who are you texting?"

"None of your business." he muttered. The phone buzzed and John nodded at it, then put it away. "Ok, he'll be there soon. We should get going."

Alex opened his mouth to ask more questions, then thought better of it. He submissively pulled on his hoodie and followed John out the front door.

For once, it was sunny out. Alex stepped out of the house, then he hissed and cowered back. "Holy shit, it burns."

"Oh, you'll be fine . Just pull up your hood and put your hands in your pockets." John stepped forward, flinched a little in the light, and began down the narrow footpath that led into the park. Alex staggered behind him, squinting and keeping his head down.

"So," He panted, catching up to John's quick pace. "I dunno what or how, but something happened to you last night. After you... drank my blood. You said there was..."

"Something in it." John grimaced at the memory. "It was definitely strange. I thought maybe it was garlic, but typically garlic blood tastes terrible. And yours..." his face reddened. "It was the best blood I'd ever had. It tasted amazing ." He looked out at the leafless trees, eyebrows knit together. "But somehow it drugged me. I felt just like I used to, before I was bitten, when I got high. And then after it passed I felt horrible. Like I was slowly going to die."

Alex nodded solemnly. "But what could have gotten in my blood, to do that to you?"

"Well, according to legends, if a werewolf bites a vampire, the vampire's blood is like a drug to the werewolf. But that doesn't fit our situation at all..." he drifted off, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Finally, John came to a halt. Alex stopped behind him and looked around, but the place was deserted and dead-looking with dry leaves spread everywhere like old confetti.

John checked his watch. "Hmm. Should be here any minute."

"Who?"

"You'll see."

They stood there, waiting. A breeze made Alex shiver. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a figure stepped out of the trees.

It was Lee, the nurse. He grinned at John. "Sorry to keep you waiting, I..." his gaze moved to Alex. "Oh, it's you."

"Alex, you remember old Charles?" John said lightly.

"Of course I do," Confused, Alex leaned into John and whispered into his ear. "What the hell is he doing here? I hate this guy."

"Don't worry. He's just being a bro."

Alex grumbled to himself. "I don't like this bro of yours, Jackie."

"So..." Charles said hesitantly. "I don't have much time before Dr. Schuyler notices I'm gone."

He pulled a large satchel over his shoulder and handed it to John, who grabbed it gently as if it were full of gold. "Oh, thank you, Charles."

"Between the two of you, those should last for maybe two days."

"What do you want for pay?"

"Oh, I don't need money. Consider it a gift."

John swung the bag over his shoulder and shook Lee's hand. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it. See ya." Lee smiled and disappeared back into the foliage. John waved after him, then adjusted the satchel and started back the way they'd come.

"Hold it!" Alex grabbed his shoulder. "What's in the bag?"

"Breakfast." John said simply.

At the mention of food, Alex's stomach growled at him again. John glanced at him and smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'll give you some as soon as we get back home, ok?"

Alex nodded and found his pace speeding up. Luckily John matched his gate, and soon they were both jogging as the boarding house came into view.

Back in John's room, Alex collapsed on the bed, panting and sagging with unreasonable exhaustion. John heaved the satchel onto the mattress and zipped it open. He pulled out a bag full of crimson liquid and handed it to Alex, who took it with eager hands.

"Have as much as you want. I'm not hungry."

Alex opened the bag and sniffed its contents. It smelled like blood all right; but it also smelled delicious, and before he could really consider the weight of what he was doing, he tipped back his head and drank .

Before he knew it the bag was empty. He tossed it aside and licked his lips, relishing every drop.

"See? It's not half bad." John's voice beckoned him gently back to reality.

"Not at all."

John grinned. "Glad you think so."

They exchanged satisfied smiles, and a kiss or two. But when John pulled away his smile had vanished. He stared at his hands and a sad, guilty look appeared on his face.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked.

"I still can't believe it. What I've done to you." He looked up and his eyes were shining with tears. "What I did was really selfish. And now I've turned you into a monster... just like me."

"Hey, it's alright," Alex put a hand on John's shoulder, which was shaking a little. "You were just saving yourself. If we're gonna blame anybody, it's the dick who raided your stash." Alex hesitated, clenching his hand into a fist. "Although, you could have told me what was going on."

"Yeah." John's voice cracked. "Fucking selfish."

Suddenly he broke down. Giant, hiccuping sobs wracked his body. Rather than regular tears, he cried blood; fresh and bright redness that stained his freckled face. Alex hastily wrapped his arms around him, letting John cry onto his shoulder and murmuring "It's okay, Jackie... I forgive you... everything's fine... c'mon, Jackie, deep breaths... you're gonna make it look like I broke my arm again. "

John hiccoughed and drew away, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "S-sorry."

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and it swung open. Laf stood there, wearing ripped blue jeans and a t-shirt with the words BITCHES AND BAGUETTES printed across it. The smile that had been on his face disappeared at the blood all over Alex.

"Saint baise, what 'appened 'ere?"

"Nothing." said Alex, skirting in front of John to block him from view. "What do you want?"

"Erm, well," Laf scratched his beard. "I just wanted to let you know that we've received a 'special invitation'," He motioned with air quotes and pulled out his phone.

"Oh?" Alex stood. "And what's that?"

"Thomas wants to buy us drinks at Fraunces Tavern."

Alex was taken aback. "Jefferson? I haven't heard from him or Mads in a long time. I thought they were on their honeymoon or something."

Laf laughed drily. "Good one Alex. You and John get ready, we'll leave at eight 'sirty."

"Cool."

Laf shut the door and Alex turned back to John. His face was covered in smeared blood.

"Dude, wash your face. And do my shirt while you're at it." Alex pulled off his shirt and wrung it out till blood dripped on the tiled floor.

John put his face in his hands. "Fuck me."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

"Nah," John spat in his hand and began rubbing his face. "Looks like we have better things to do."

Chapter Text

Laf straightened his bow-tie as he slid into the front seat of the car. Herc nudged his shoulder.

"Yo, take the scenic route. We're gonna be hella late if we don't speed and I'm not loaning you for any more fines."

Laf sighed. "Fine. I'll avoid ze cops."

"And don't drive into a mailbox like last time!" John called from the backseat.

"Okay, okay," Laf turned on the ignition and grabbed the wheel. "Alex, you got your seatbelt on?"

"What? Of course I--- Woooah!" Alex heaved as they started down the road. The speedometer swung around, as frantic as Laf's heartbeat. He laughed at Alex's pale face in the rear-view mirror.

"What the fuck are you doing?! You're gonna get us killed!" Alex screamed over the engine, gripping John's arm like a lifeline.

"Trust me, if we hit a red light, you're gonna wish you were dead," Laf laughed.

By the time the old black BMW had screeched to a stop in the bar's parking lot, Laf felt completely exhilarated, Herc had fallen asleep, and John was holding Alex to prevent him from throwing up. They piled out of the car, staggered to the bar's entrance, and filed inside.

Fraunces looked the same as usual: dusty, messy, and loud. Chatty men and women filled the wooden church benches and drank and smoked while someone played piano in the corner. Herc smiled at Laf, who found himself readjusting his bow-tie again. He scanned the bar and spotted Thomas and James sitting at a table near the back of the room. He weaved through the crowd, Herc, John and Alex close behind. Thomas saw them and put on his most dazzling smile, standing to shake hands.

"So good to see y'all could make it!" He said cheerily. "James and I missed you guys! It's been so long..."

When they had finished greeting each other and everyone was seated, it was John who began the conversation.

"So, Thomas," He said with an air of importance, "There have been a few... significant events since we last saw you that I thought you might want to be aware of."

"'Zat so?" Thomas took a bottle of vodka from the waitress and poured shots for everyone.

"Yeah," John graciously accepted a shot and downed it immediately. "Well, you know how a bunch of us aren't fully human, right?"

Thomas straightened, his eyebrows knitting together. "Of course. You and... Laf..." his gaze flicked to Alex and fear widened his eyes. Turning back to John, he hissed "But Alex doesn't know, does he? We shouldn't--"

"No, it's fine. Alex knows everything." John took another shot, coughed, and continued. "In fact, Alex is who we're here to talk about. You see... I might've..." He fidgeted with his collar, his face reddening. "Bitten him."

Thomas stared at him for a second. Then, appearing to realize how he ought to respond to such news, let his mouth fall open. "No. You wouldn't."

John sighed and turned to Alex, who was wringing his hands and looking very uncomfortable. "Show him your teeth."

"What?"

"Smile. Let him see your teeth."

Alex hesitantly opened his mouth. Long, pearly white, glistening fangs jutted out on either side of his mouth. Laf heard himself gasp; even he hadn't really realised Alex wasn't fully human anymore.

"Holy shit." Thomas breathed, leaning over the table for a closer look. "Those are some sick teeth. I could eat a well-done steak in seconds with teeth like that."

"Oh shut up." Alex grumbled, crossing his arms. "They're really uncomfortable. I can't close my mouth the way I used to."

"Huh," said Thomas, still looking intrigued.

"Anyways," said John. "He's been staying with me, to get used to... life."

Thomas sat back and took a draft from his beer. "That's real tough. Sorry, Al,"

"Don't call me that." Alex said.

"Hey, I'm just being nice," said Thomas defensively.

"Yeah right." Alex glared at him and sipped his red wine.

There was an awkward silence in which Thomas and Alex glared at each other for a solid minute. 

Herc cleared his throat. "C'mon Alex, why are you mad at him now?"

"He's lying." Alex snarled. "He thinks he has me fooled."

"What?" Thomas's face flushed and he nearly knocked over his beer. "What are you talking about? Why would I--"

"That was the fakest look of surprise I've ever seen. You already knew I was a vampire." Alex's eyes narrowed. "There's something you're hiding."

Laf nodded. He had smelled the lie as soon as he sat down, but he hadn't said anything. "Alex is right. What aren't you telling us?"

Thomas flushed even redder with fury. "Bullshit! I'm not lying about anything! How could I have known Alex was a vampire--?"

"ShushuSHUSH!" Herc hissed. "We're in a public bar, FYI . You'll get us kicked out."

Thomas stood so fast he did in fact topple his beer and it splattered all over his shirt. His eyes were wild as he lunged toward Alex. "You bastard, you fucking little--"

Alex raised his fists and the fight broke out. In no time the table had flipped on its side and the two of them were on the ground, shouting and pummelling each other. Alex was evidently stronger, as Thomas was only a human, and soon he had the upper hand. John and Herc were trying to pull them apart, along with two large bouncers, while Laf and James cheered them on.

Finally Herc managed to get a hold of Alex and drag him off, though the effort it took left him breathless and coated in sweat. Alex writhed in his arms, teeth flashing. He looked almost scary with the inhuman, starved glint in his eyes.

Thomas, however, was a sorry sight. A black eye was swelling on his face and blood dribbled incessantly out of his nose. He lay on his back, eyes shut, moaning. James knelt down beside him, his hands shaking.

"Where does it hurt Tom? Do you need an ambulance? C'mon, tell me--"

Suddenly Thomas rolled over onto his side and vomited onto the hardwood. Laf recoiled, glancing back at Alex, who seemed to have calmed down a bit. He was panting and glaring at Thomas with as much disgust as he might look at a dead rat, but the crazed look had left his eyes.

"Get out of here, all of you." boomed the voice of another man, probably the bar owner.

"Let's go." John said dismally. His voice had gone soft.

Laf and Herc exchanged glances, then nodded and helped John support Alex as they walked unsteadily through the tavern and out the door, leaving the retching Thomas and frantic James behind.

Still, they all knew deep down that this was far from over.

Chapter Text

John awoke the next morning with a headache and a bad mood. He got out of bed and changed clothes, tossing on a flannel and quickly tying back his knotted hair. The events of last night buzzed in his mind, and he couldn't help angrily wondering why the hell Alex would've attacked Thomas the way he had. John had thought he was sincere; after all, Thomas couldn't possibly have known anything, having been off in Hawaii with James. So what had gotten into Alex?

"Bonne matin," Laf greeted him as he entered the kitchen. Alex was on his phone, leaning against the stove.

"Alex," John said as he opened the fridge and pulled out a jug of milk.

"Mm?" Alex mumbled.

"I need to talk to you."

"Mm."

" Alex ,"

Alex finally looked up. "What?"

John massaged his pounding forehead. "Please. We need to talk... about last night."

"Oh." Alex lowered his phone, and a sliver of nervousness appeared in his eyes. "Ok."

Back in his room, John began to pace and Alex reluctantly sat down on the edge of the bed, as if he hadn't been sleeping in it for the past week.

"Alex," John began tiredly, "Just because I gave you fangs and a thirst for blood does not give you permission to beat up people. Even Jefferson."

"That's not why I got in the fight!" Alex argued. "He was lying!"

"That doesn't make sense! He was in Hawaii! "

"How do we know that? That could have been a lie too!"

John slammed a fist onto his desk. "No, Alex. I know you hate him, but you can't make up stuff--"

"I'm not!" Alex groaned at the ceiling in frustration. He glimpsed Lafayette walking past in the hallway and waved him over. "Hey Laf! Come here!"

Laf frowned in slight confusion, and came into the room. "What do you want?"

John's headache was getting worse. He gave up and collapsed in his desk chair. "Alright, Alex. Talk. It's what you're best at."

Alex glared at him, then cleared his throat. "Laf, you said the incident with Burr was staged right? That his plan was to... to get me killed?"

Laf nodded serenely. "He thought he could use me as a weapon."

John glanced back and forth between them, then gave an incredulous grin. "What? He thought he could control you?" He burst out laughing. "Who thinks they can control a fucking werewolf ?" 

"I know. Very funny. Ha ha." Laf's face was carved of stone. "Maybe he was stupid, but he didn't deserve to die at my hands." He crossed his arms over his chest and sat down beside Alex, staring at the floor.

"Look, my point is, he was trying to kill me." Alex said slowly. "...Why would he want me dead?"

There was a silence. Laf looked lost in thought, and John seemed to slowly be letting this truth sink in. To Alex's comfort, he looked horrified.

"That's sick , man. Even Burr wouldn't do something like that." He shook his head, dazed.

Laf had gone pale. He stared at John, his gaze challenging. "Then who would?"

A pause. Then Alex cleared his throat. "On that point, I have some suspicions." He rubbed his hands together. "What about... Thomas Jefferson?"

"Alex!" Laf and John shouted in unison. John looked ready to punch Alex, but his voice was calm enough when he said. "What does any of this have to do with him?"

"It has everything to do with him!" Alex exclaimed. "Who set up the attack? Who raided your stash of blood?"

John squinted, but his eyes slowly widened as the words sank in.

"...What are you saying?" Lafayette said quietly.

Alex gazed at them, his expression grim. There was a terrible silence, before he spoke the words they all already knew were true.

"I think Thomas Jefferson is out to kill me."

Chapter Text

Thomas groaned. Everything hurt. The vivid memory of Alex coming at him with pearly teeth bared and pummelling every inch of him seemed to double the pain until he was moaning like some dying animal. James entered the room, looking skittish and frightened. "Oh, you're awake," his shoulders sagged with relief. "How do you feel?"

"Like a bruised pile of shit, thanks for asking."

James' face went red and he smiled softly. "Aw well, I'm sure most of those bruises will heal up quick. Your black eye went down, didn't it?"

Thomas tried to lift a hand and feel his face, but a flair of pain in his shoulder made him hiss and set it back down. "Sure. Look, can you make me something?"

"Anything."

"I need you to go to the park and gather eleven rose hips, thirty-three golden pine needles and seven grams of powdered rosemary, got it?"

James frowned. "Oh no, not another one of your potions..."

"Don't worry. I won't mess this one up; healing elixirs are easy , trust me."

James lowered his head and scratched at his elbow, looking sheepish. "What if someone sees me?"

With a great effort, Thomas sat up against the bed frame. Every movement of his stiff muscles was agony and his throat was parched just from talking. "Just do it. You'll be fine. I need that potion if I want to be well enough to face..." he stopped himself before he said 'Alex'.

"Oh fine ." James grumbled. He turned on his heel and left the room. There was the rustling of his coat, then the front door creaked and slammed shut.

Silence. Thomas closed his eyes again and let himself drift off into thought. Within a few minutes, his mind latched onto an issue that seemed to haunt him day in and day out: Alex.

"Ugh," He murmured. "How am I supposed to kill you, Hamilton?" he asked the ceiling.

Hamilton. Everybody's best friend, Hamilton. The innocent little bastard who never does anything wrong, and gets away with everything. He'd never done anything useful, and everybody knew it. Thomas could hardly wait to see the day he got rid of him once and for all.

Oh, but he wouldn't stop there. John Laurens was gonna have to go too. He'd stolen Alex's heart and now... now there was that ring. That ring that stood in the way of all his plans.

But he'd already tried what he could think of. Leaving Laf's door unlocked. Convincing Burr, who also wanted Alex's head, to go out at night with him. Then plan B: stealing Laurens's blood and getting Lee to put what supposedly an agent capable of poisoning a vampire in Alex's meals at the hospital.

Nothing worked. The bastard just wouldn't cease to exist. The ring was the one thing pushing him, and it seemed to be getting further and further out of reach.

Suddenly Thomas heard the front door swing open again. He jumped a little at the sound, but he was pleased when James appeared, panting slightly, in his doorway, his hand full of crushed herbs.

"Perfect. Now boil a pot of water, add one cup of elderberry syrup, add that stuff in, and bring it to me, ok?"

James nodded and disappeared. Thomas felt a pang of guilt for ordering him around; but he needed that potion.

Once James had boiled all the ingredients into a thick greenish mixture, he poured it into a bowl and brought it to Thomas, who took it in shaky hands. Thomas sniffed it and nodded. "Ah. Just right."

Thomas closed his eyes and began to murmur to the bowl of goop. James watched, slightly bored, as the steam swirling from it began to swell and twist in strange shapes. Finally Thomas finished the spell and the steam dove back into the potion, which suddenly swirled silver, black, then completely clear. Thomas opened his eyes and grinned at the potion, which could have been water save for the silvery sheen on it.

"Is that what it should look like?" James asked doubtfully.

"Close enough." Thomas lifted the bowl to his lips and drained it. Then the ceramic bowl suddenly crashed to the ground beside the bed.

Thomas doubled over, grunting with pain. His stomach felt like it was on fire. He leaned over the edge of the bed, eyes bulging, and gagged; but nothing came out.

Slowly the fire spread across his whole body, flames licking at his insides. It overwhelmed him until he thought for sure he was about to be reduced to ashes-- then subsided.

He lay with his face in the blankets, shaking.

After a silence he managed to moan,"I think I almost killed myself, Jemmy."

James sighed. "You'll live. That sheen on it was just a speed factor. You healed yourself in under a second, so the pain came after. Like thunder and lightning."

Thomas groaned. "I think it was more of a Hurricane than any old thunderstorm."

"You're such a drama queen. You could at least thank me for going and making a fool of myself picking through pine needles in the park."

Thomas sat up and took a deep breath. He did feel better; his bruises had vanished and all the previous aches had faded. "Fine. Thank you."

"You're welcome." James pulled on his jacket. "I gotta go. I have a meeting with my boss."

"Ok. See ya."

"Yeah, bye."

He left. Thomas got out of bed and pulled on his long black overcoat. Double-checking that James was long gone, he hastened after him through the apartment building and out the door.

Thomas glimpsed James driving down the street and turned down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. He jogged down the block, then dodged inside an old useless phone booth and shut the door. Heart pounding in anticipation, he dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small golden pearl. He gazed admiringly at it; it had taken him months to make, brewing all sorts of rare potions to produce one small delicacy.

"Well, here goes nothing," Thomas said to himself. Then he squashed the pearl between his fingers, and it exploded into silver powder. The world was overtaken with a blinding light. Thomas felt his body being whisked up into the air, wrapped in a swirling mass of gold that spun him like a tornado. The sensation was... pleasant? Calming? It made him close his eyes and smile as he was carried, zooming through time and space, until he reached his destination. Then the light-tornado faded and his feet touched down on the pavement at the entrance of the boarding house where Alex and his friends lived. Straightening his coat, Thomas snapped his fingers and the front door clicked and slowly, silently swung inward.

Chapter Text

Alex sat at the kitchen table, stirring a bowl of now-lukewarm chicken soup and watching the noodles swirl around in his little current. He could faintly hear Herc's snores from the bedroom where he and Laf were fast asleep. He glanced out the window; the sky was black and clouded, starless. He sighed and looked back down at what he'd been working on, which was a letter. Another letter to Washington, since everyone else was so close by, and Burr, formerly one of his main correspondents, was gone.

He sighed. Something told him he should just go back to bed, since it was still dark out; but ever since John had bitten him, he'd been far more awake at night than in the day. His eyes were keener in the dark, and he felt more alive somehow, when there was so scorching sunlight beaming down on his back.

He got up from the table and dumped the now-cold soup into the sink, then crossed the hall to the living room. He was about to sit down and finish his letter, when something caught his attention outside. It was a little beam of light, shining in the forest like... a flashlight.

Alex cocked his head to one side. Who'd be walking around out there at this time of night?

A shiver ran down his spine, but he just shook his head and muttered "probably just some park ranger."

Just then, however, the light went out. Then it came back. It flashed several times, and Alex began to pick out words from the series of flashes. He blinked several times, not believing what he saw, but the message just kept repeating itself. Something told him the Morse Code wasn't an accident.

Horror and disbelief rocked him where he stood.

Alex-help-It's-me-Burr. Alex-Alex-help-I-am-not-dead. There's-been-a-mistake.

"No." Alex said aloud. "This can't be happening. I saw him rip your heart out."

But his mind didn't believe it. Could it be? Burr, alive?

An unreasonable part of his brain lit up with hope. Maybe he'd imagined it before he passed out. Maybe he could have survived, crawled out of the house after the fight. Or maybe he'd lived because he wasn’t human either...

Alex's heart thundered in his chest. A strange giddiness filled him, and his doubt began to fade. Burr -- smart, resourceful Burr. He couldn't be dead. He was back, there in the trees, using Morse Code and staying hidden like he always would.

Nearly whooping aloud, Alex grabbed the door handle and ran outside. "Burr! Burr, is that you?!" He cried, beaming into the darkness. The air outside was brisk and damp, but he didn't care. He ran, ran as fast as he could toward that flashing light, ready to throw himself on top of Burr and curse him for scaring him so badly, for making him think he truly was--

Something caught Alex in the shin and he was thrown forward into the dirt. His ankle flared in pain and he screamed, twisting around as something cold and heavy fell over him. A net.

He managed to roll over onto his back and grabbed hold of some of the ropes holding him down, bellowing in pain, confusion and fear. "Get this off me!" He roared. "There's been a misunderstanding! Burr!"

He slashed and pulled at the ropes holding him, but they only grew tighter, each one like a cold, deadly snake. Tears stung in Alex's eyes, and he opened his mouth to try and rip apart the ropes with his fangs.

Just then, a face appeared over him. It was too dark to make out any features at first, and he was stupid enough to ask "...Burr?"

But it was not Burr who cracked a smile of white, fang-less teeth and laughed at him. It was not Burr who turned around and called to someone behind him. "I've got him pinned."

Thomas leaned in so close to Alex's face Alex could feel his hot breath on his cheeks. "This is going to be sooooo much fun." he said wickedly.

Chapter Text

Alex was dragged up a metal ramp and into the back of an old pick-up truck that smelled strongly -- and ironically -- of garlic. He writhed uselessly against his bindings and tried to bite the hands of the two figures who carried him, though he couldn't make out the faces of either of them. Only once they'd slammed the back shut and started the engine did Alex stop fighting and sit up on the floor, panting.

In an instant, the ropes holding him released their grip and slithered off him like snakes, making him shudder and scoot away. Magic , he thought disgustedly. 

The truck started and rumbled forward. Before he could shout out, Alex was thrown against one of the metal walls. He bashed into a crate in the pitch-blackness and an explosion of small, unidentifiable, hard round objects tumbled over him in a wave.

Panicked, Alex tried to dig himself out of the pile, but in the shaking vehicle it was impossible to do anything other than hope he wasn't thrown against something sharp. He curled himself into a ball and covered his head, waiting for the ride to be over.

Wherever they were going, though, it wasn't nearby. Alex had to crawl haphazardly across the dark trailer until he found something to puke into. Then he found a corner where he could cling to a metal handle and a crate and stay relatively still, and slowly got used to the rocking, shaking darkness. Several times he dozed off, only to have his head bang against the wall and wake up sharply.

Meanwhile, up in the cabin with his partner, Thomas called over his shoulder to the third man sitting uncomfortably in the sleeper. "I owe you one, Lee. Forgive me for cursing you with those snakes when your blood-poison plan failed. I have some ideas on how you can repay me."

Lee grimaced and clasped his hands in his lap. "Thank you, m'lord, I just..."

Thomas glared at him. " What ?"

"I was just wondering why my helping you with -- with the poison, and the - the capture -- why that wasn't enough?" Lee yelped.

Thomas stared at him for a few seconds, before James grabbed his arm and screamed. "WATCH THE ROAD!"

Thomas jumped a whirled around just in time, as the truck was beginning to slide precariously close to the left edge of the bridge they were on. He grabbed the wheel and swerved in the opposite direction. He heard a grunt as Lee slammed into the side behind him, then the truck wobbled back into the middle of the road. A few passers' by honked, and then it was over.

Once things had settled down a little, Thomas shook the hair out of his face and turned back to face the bruised and ruffled looking Lee one last time. "I'm going to need you for a little while longer, Lee. If you even think about running, you'll regret it more than anything you've ever done."

-----

Back in the trailer, Alex blinked and opened his eyes. His head ached terribly, and his vision was blurred at first, so it took a few seconds to realize he was upside down.

His muscles sore, he found where the ground was and rolled forward onto his hands and knees, crouching as the truck bucked and swayed like a wild horse and,

after what felt like an eternity, finally screeched to a haunt. Alex was thrown against the wall one last time, then the hatch slid open with a loud clang , and light flooded the trailer.

Alex cowered backward and squinted in the daylight as the same two people from before leaped up and came at him with the net again.

"W-wait!" Alex cried. He didn't want to lose any more of his dignity. "Stop! You don't have to drag me out like... like a..." he stopped himself before saying "animal". He got unsteadily to his feet, relieved when the floor remained still and solid. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the light, and he recognised the features of the man on his left.

"Madison," he breathed. "Please, don't do this--"

"We're just following orders." The other man said. His voice was strikingly familiar, and Alex whirled around to find himself face to face with--

" Charles ?" he exclaimed.

Charles winced at his shout. "Shut up. Don't call me Charles. Master Je-- I mean, Jefferson -- he doesn't know you know me."

Alex stared back and forth between the two men, his eyebrows knitted in disbelief. "What's going on? Why are you doing this?"

Both of them shrugged. "Like I said, orders are orders." said Lee. He suddenly seemed to clear his thoughts, and his face turned solemn. "Come on." He grabbed Alex's arm and pulled him forward out of the truck. 

Alex pulled his arm free within a second, snarling at Lee, as Jefferson rounded the truck and came into view. 

"I say," Jefferson chuckled, leaning against the truck trailer. "Someone's had a rough ride. Alexander, I didn't know your hair could stand up like than on it's own." he mused. 

Alex gritted his teeth and said nothing as Madison took hold of his wrists and tied them behind his back. He even managed to keep his mouth shut as he was shoved forward and forced to follow Jefferson off into the thick trees that surrounded them. 

He took in their surroundings, figuring he'd need to remember the details for when he made his escape. It was a forest similar to the one in the park right beside the boardinghouse, but the trees were more tightly knit and had thicker foliage. As they entered the thicket, the light dimmed noticeably, much of the sun blocked out by the branches. Strange sounds, like the howls of owls and scratching, crackling footsteps of wildlife filled Alex's ears. He couldn't help but shiver. 

Finally they reached a clearing in the woods. In the center of it was a mouldy, ancient-looking outhouse. Alex scrunched up his nose, disgusted enough to forget his vow to silence. "Eugh. What are you trying to do, make me vomit? Vampires have heightened senses y'know. I mean, that's just mean."

"Shut up!" Thomas snared, his sneer suddenly gone. "I do not need you bragging about what that boyfriend of yours did to you."

Alex looked taken aback. "Now hold on a second. Why do we have to bring John into this?"

Thomas's look was enough to bring Alex grudgingly into silence again. He crossed his arms and watched as Thomas approached the rotting latrine with an air of respect that made Alex both want to laugh out loud and puke at the same time. Thomas reached into a pocket in his leather jacket and pulled out a small, perfectly straight stick. As if he were something out of a fantasy, he raised it and pointed it at the door. Then he closed his eyes and muttered " latus alterum". 

Alex watched, almost bored, as the toilet lit up with bright bluish light. I wonder if there's any magical death shit in there, he couldn't help thinking. Wouldn't be surprised. 

Then the brightness faded, and Thomas solemnly nodded to Lee and Madison. "Come on."

Prompted by another shove from behind, Alex approached the door to the privy, and Thomas disappeared inside it. Alex hesitantly followed, holding his breath against the putrid odour, and heard his captors enter behind him, before the door shut and they were engulfed in darkness. 

Alex wondered briefly how they'd all managed to fit inside, but in a moment his question was answered: Thomas muttered " revelarus" , and the room lit up with an orangey glow from the tip of Jefferson's wand. 

What Alex saw made his jaw go slack. 

Chapter Text

Thomas Jefferson had never been more excited in his life. Finally, his plans had worked. All of his past failures no longer mattered. He had Alexander.

Unable to contain his laughter, he turned to see Alex, his mouth agape, staring at the monstrosity he'd spent months building. "Impressive, isn't it?" 

"It's..." Alex gasped. "It's horrible."

They stood at the entrance to a huge room, at least the size of a football field. Metal walls towered upward and caved into the center, creating a giant dome. In the center of the room a giant hole gaped in the ground, full of fiery, steaming, hissing molten rock and metal. The smell of it was enough to drive Alex crazy. Above the lava pit, a circular platform floated, with shimmering glassy walls that reached up to the ceiling, creating a giant tube. 

"You'll be staying in there." Thomas said, mimicking a hotel host. Alex had gone pale. "Y'know, that isn't even real glass. It's a spell, strong enough to withstand even the strongest man. Even if you did manage to break through it, you'd be shocked with a magical simulation of electricity. I'm told it's even worse than death..." he sneered. 

"Jesus Christ..." Alex breathed, shrinking back a little. Even Lee and Madison looked antsy. 

Thomas cleared his throat. "Well? What are we waiting for?" he addressed his two accomplices. Jumping slightly, They took hold of Alex's shoulders and began dragging him toward a ramp that connected to the shimmering pillar.

"Wait! Stop it!" Alex pleaded. "Thomas, you have to tell me why you're doing this! Please, I've never done anything to--"

"Enough!" Again, in a flash, Thomas' calm sneer was gone. He was not going to tolerate another word from Alex. "You might not know what you've done yet , but believe me," he scowled. "No one here is innocent."

They proceeded without another word from anyone. Thomas pointed his wand at the cell and a rectangular opening appeared. Then Lee and Madison stiffly threw Alex inside, and the doorway dissolved. Alex splayed his fingers against the wall, his mouth moving fast, but not a word could be heard from him. 

Brushing his hands off on his pants, Thomas let his smile return. There. Not another word from that pitiful vampire boy. 

------

Alex was sweltering hot. All the heat from the pool of magma below him seemed to be concentrated within this cylinder. In no time he was drenched in sweat, and he threw off his hoodie, and then his shirt. He quickly realised that nobody could hear him from outside, and in the end he just sat down against one of the walls and closed his eyes, trying to sort out his fizzing brain. 

Thomas had said the walls were strong enough to hold the strongest of men , but was the same true for vampires? Could he risk trying to break through?

He sighed. No, he wasn't courageous enough to attempt what could easily end up being worse than death. Instead, he thought about ways he could communicate with his captors. 

Charles Lee had been more than kind to him in the hospital. Was it possible that it had all been an act? Could he really be that evil? Because if he wasn't, if he was just scared like Alex was, maybe he could be reasoned with. Not that he would be much of a help, but it was more than nothing. 

Hours past by. Was it just hours, or days? Alex had no way of knowing. It was difficult to even attempt to talk to anyone, because his captors rarely passed by. As time passed he got used to the stench of molten metal, and the heat became slightly more tolerable. It was never comfortable, though. He was restless, but any time he moved he wasted energy and perspiration, so he mostly stayed put. Sometimes, when he managed to drift off, he was plagued with fretful nightmares of being engulfed in fire, or of Thomas's face jeering down at him, repeating "nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. That's what you are. Nothing, nothing, nothing..."

One time, Madison came in, carrying a clay pitcher. His head was lowered, but Alex could make out greyish bags below his eyes. He wondered what Thomas had been doing to him, and for no particular reason, felt a pang of pity.

Madison's face remained expressionless as he approached the cell and touched the shimmering wall with his thumb, opening a doorway so he could step inside.

Alex didn't move, watching him warily. When Madison made no move toward him, he felt safe enough to speak. "I have questions."

James's mouth hardly moved. "Please."

Alex cleared his dry throat, deciding where to start. "How long have I been here? What... what time is it?"

Suddenly Alex felt a sharp pain in his skull. His vision blurred, and so did James. In a second the sensation was gone, and his vision cleared. But before him, in the same spot where Madison had stood a fraction of a second ago, was John Laurens.

John smiled, his brown eyes shining in the lavalight. "Showtime."

Then, almost violently, he grabbed Alex by the shoulders and pulled him into a kiss. Alex felt his eyes fall closed, and he leaned in as John moved away. Again, he felt his brain sting, and opened his eyes to see Thomas himself, laughing his head off.

"Fuck -- you bitch!" Alex spat at his feet. "Who the hell are you ready? Stop playing with me!"

Thomas slowly recovered from his bout of guffawing, and holding his stomach, said, "Alex, I'm the only one here who can shape-shift. It took me years to learn, you know. Come to think of it..." he leaned forward into Alex's face. 

"What if I told you that John Lauren's never existed? That he was a character I made up and impersonated, and then got killed when it was convenient?"

"Shut up!" Alex shouted, scrambling away from Jefferson's hot breath. "That's a lie! Stop talking about John right now!"

Thomas just chuckled. "Oh fine, that was a lie. Still scared you though, dinit?"  

Alex snarled at him. "What do you want?"

"I want," Thomas said thoughtfully, "your ring."

"Well then you'll be sorely disappointed, because I don't have it." Alex said firmly, crossing his arms. 

"LIAR!" In a flash, Thomas wiped out his wand and a flash of light erupted from it's tip. Alex suddenly felt his entire left arm go numb. 

"What are you doing?!" He cried, and watched, paralysed, as his hand slowly rose of it's own accord and began approaching his neck. "Stop it!" 

Before he could say more, his own hand closed around his throat. He gasped and writhed, watching as Thomas leaned forward and hissed, " where is it? "

Alex gaped, black spots dancing in his vision, and felt his grip release. He fell onto all fours, gasping and massaging his neck. 

Thomas stood above him, revolted. "Oh, and before I forget..." He pulled out his wand and waved it so that the pitcher he'd been holding before reappeared, hovering in midair before him. "Some refreshment. I won't tell you where I got it from."

With that he turned around and the hovering charm ceased, so that the clay pitcher fell to the ground and shattered, sending dark blood splattering all across the dirty cell floor. Still shaking, Alex looked up just in time to make out Thomas's back as he left, his whole frame shaking with laughter.

Chapter Text

John was desperately searching his room. He tossed clothes to the ground, threw open drawers, scrambled under the bed. He was searching for something, anything , that Alex could have left behind when he disappeared. 

Finally, he pulled back the sheet on the bed and gasped. "Yes!"

"What did you find?" said Lafayette, who'd been watching worriedly from the doorway. He came and sat on the bed beside John, who was holding a small, folded piece of paper. The note was bulging, like it contained something small and round. 

Taking a deep breath, John unfolded the package. Something shiny fell into his lap. 

"What the..." John picked up a silver, slightly tarnished ring with a large, dark red gemstone. His eyes went wide. 

"What is it?" Asked Laf, eyeing the ring suspiciously. 

"It's the Ring of Redemption. But how...?" he turned the ring around in his fingers, his face etched with disbelief. "I was sure I lost it..."

Lafayette's eyes widened. "Zat's Ring of Redemption?" He squinted at it sceptically. "I sought it'd look more, er, expensive, for somesing zat could literally take our lives."

John rolled his eyes, ignoring the judgement. "Who cares what it looks like. Let's see what he wrote." He held up the folded parchment for Laf to see and read aloud:

John, I believe this belongs to you.

I'm sorry I stole it, I didn't realize

What power it held.

But I must ask this of you:

You have to destroy it.

It has the potential to kill you--

Or me, or Lafayette.

We can't risk keeping it intact.

I trust that you will do the right thing.

Love, A. Ham 

"Great. He didn't even bother to mention, y'know, where he went, or when he'll come back. Nope." Laf said disappointingly.

"Shut up!" John read and re-read the message, and felt a sinking dread plant itself in his stomach. This couldn't be happening. Was Alex crazy?

"Wait... " Lafayette thought out loud, expressing John's sentiments. "But... I don't understand. He's saying destroy it? Wouldn't that... doom us all?" 

John just sighed.

"Jackie," Laf practically pleaded, his eyes widening with horror with each passing second. "You can't - you aren't actually going to - " 

John looked up at Lafayette, his eyes full of tears. "Alex said that I have to destroy it. Yes, that means killing myself, and it means... Alex is either doomed, or already dead."

There was a thick silence. The ring glinted in the lamplight on John's lap, as if it were taunting them. Saying haha, I got you, and you can do nothing about it.

"I guess Thomas has him after all." Lafayette whispered. 

Chapter Text

It's time." John said as he pulled the door open and stared out into the black and stormy sky.

"What?! No, John, it's storming out." Laf grabbed John's arm. "at least wait until--"

"NO!" John screeched, then drew back, his limbs twitching like a cornered animal. "No, I-I need to go. I need to go now." He turned back to the open door.

Thunder rumbled overhead.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you." Laf grabbed his coat off a hanger and started to put it on.

"No you're not."

Laf paused and looked at John with a slight frown. "John--"

"I... I need to do this alone."

Hercules shook his head at Laf before grabbing John's coat and holding it out to him. His eyes looked clouded and sad.

There was a silence. John took his jacket and looked at the ground. "Thank you."

Herc nodded and flashed a quick, sad smile, then suddenly rushed forward and pulled John into a crushing embrace. "I'll never forget you, Jackie."

"I'll miss you too Hercules," John said into Herc's chest. Then he pulled away, and found himself staring at a silently weeping Lafayette. He'd never seen Laf cry before, and felt his heart break when Laf just nodded and motioned gently for him to leave. "Je vous aimerai toujours"

With that, John turned and ambled outside into the night's maelstrom.

Once the soft light of the windows had faded, John yanked his jacket off and hung it on a tree branch. Squinting his eyes against the wind and rain, he fingered the small ring that dangled on a string around his neck. The cold metal against his skin was a comforting nudge in the blinding storm, reminding him of what he had to do.

"Soon," he whispered into the night, but his words were whipped away from him. "YOU CAN'T HOLD ME DOWN ANYMORE!" he screamed into the sky, opposition to the wind's howl.

His soaked clothes clung to him like loose skin on a starved dog, his hair flattened to his face and neck, yet he didn't break his stride to push it back. A tree crashed and fell in front of him, he bared his teeth at the inconvenience but clambered over, slipping on the wet bark.

The storm made it almost impossible to see. For a brief second every minute or so, lighting would illuminate the surrounding forest in a brilliant light. But it wasn't enough for John to truly see where he was going . Twice he slipped on rocks or tree roots and found himself on the muddy and stony ground, bloodying his hands and knees.

"Shouldn't be much further." John muttered out to no-one, and yet, he could almost feel a hand grasping his, pulling him onward. He was still alone in the darkness, but less so? now he ran, he tripped on something and smashed his face into the ground. Looking behind him as blood started to pour from his nose, John couldn't identify what he had fallen on. He laughed, a convulsing movement that combined with the endless rain, made it look as if he was sobbing.

"Yes, I'll be with you soon enough, let me run, you're only slowing me down..." John stumbled to his feet once more, and glanced down at himself. He was covered in a slick blackish brown mud; it made its way up his neck and into his hair. Panicking, he realised he couldn't see the ring around his neck. Fumbling blindly, he found the string, pulled his way to the ring and smeared the mud off of it. He gave a half smile, one that looked like it came from someone trying to hide that they had just killed a man. Thunder boomed nearby and John crouched and cowered from the noise that was a little too close for comfort.

Then, behind the rain, he could hear a different noise in the distance, like some kind of engine. John's half smile grew into a full one and he broke into a sprint. Still giving off choking giggles, he finally stopped where a gash cut into the forest to make way for train tracks. To the right, John could see the faint light of the train bobbing through the trees, coming closer.

"See?!" John spun around as if he was trying to find someone that was hiding behind him. He looked back at the trains' light, closer still, and faster.

Shuddering, John waited, clutching the ring in his sweaty hands.

"I'll see you soon... my love."

He closed his eyes, and stepped forward.

Chapter Text

Alex sat in his cell, staring up at the ceiling. His knuckles were covered in blood, since he'd been trying, unsuccessfully, to punch through the barrier. It was the only thing he could think to do; he was running out of options.

He'd tried sucking the blood from his own wounds, but it tasted like air, and did nothing to ease the hunger that gnawed at him and made it hard to think, to focus, to fight.

Instead, he stared at the ceiling and thought about John. John, who was probably worried sick. Would he come and try to rescue him? Alex had thought it for sure, that it was only a matter of time before John showed up, fangs bared, ready to rip apart anyone who dared stand in his way. 

But now Alex was beginning to doubt. It had been nearly four days. He wasn't going to last much longer, and maybe... maybe he was wrong about John, just like he'd been wrong about that ring. The ring he'd asked John to destroy. Had he done that either?

Alex's troubled thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the wall beside his cell door. Alex glanced over, glaring at whoever had come to taunt him now.

It was not , to his surprise, Lee, with a tray of some pinkish meat that was evidently supposed to be food. It was Thomas himself, and for once his evil grin was replaced with a slab of expressionless stone. He was holding a piece of paper.

"This was left at the doorstep." He said. His voice was blank. "I thought you should read it."

He stuck his hand through the slit in the door, waving the note for Alex to take. Alex growled and crossed his arms, looking the other way. This was just another trick.

"Alex,"

Alex paused. He turned back to Jefferson, who's face looked odd, almost... pained. "What?" he snarled.

"I... I'm sorry." Thomas looked uncomfortable. "Just... take it." He looked away.

Puzzled, Alex warily reached out and took the piece of paper. No tricks, no flames, just a note, folded in half. Harmless.

When he looked up, Thomas was gone.

"Huh," Alex thought. Then he opened the slip of paper and found John's familiar, spidery handwriting, scribbled with care and attention to detail. It read:

Mr. Jefferson,

If what the evidence has lead me to believe is true - if this man, who did you no harm, who wished only to understand the fatuity that has sprung from one powerful amulet and consumed us into vengeful monsters - if he is truly dead, then I see no point in staying in this world. All I need is my Alex. And I will not allow myself to be consumed and to seek vengeance, even if I risk everything else. Nothing else means anything to me anymore.

But I want you to know that you made a mistake. My life was the one you should have taken.

Not that it matters.

Respectfully yours,

John Laurens.

Alex read and re-read the words long into the night, until he had memorised them. They echoed in his head like a ghost, nudging him on the shoulder, real, so real, yet impossible.

He felt like a huge part of him had just been lifted, removed. He felt so light he was sure he would float away, drift off into nothingness, fall off the edge of the earth. As he floated the body he still owned broke down below him. It fell onto it's hands and knees and trembled, heaving great, racking sobs, spilling blood onto the stone and letting it pool around him. All the while he kept screaming " no. no. no. no. no..."

Then he turned his head and saw that Jefferson had returned. He stood on the other side of the glass door, watching him. He stood emotionless, like a chunk of marble, just watching.

And as Alex crouched there and stared back at this man, who had lied to him about everything, who had killed and destroyed and knew full-well the damage he had done, something inside Alex's very being snapped .

With a roar, Alex lunged at the magic screen. There was a terrible sizzling zap , and the boundary shattered into several sizeable, sharp pieces, which flew in all directions. As Alex surged forward, he saw Thomas reach into his pocket and draw his wand, raising it, opening his mouth to utter a curse--

Then the two of them toppled to the ground. Alex bared his teeth, spots dancing in his vision, and senselessly grabbed one of the shards of magic. Without hesitation, he drove the blade into Thomas's chest.

There was a terrible gargling scream, and the world turned crimson. Alex pulled back his dry lips and drove his face into the wound, and for a split-second, felt the wet, steadily beating heart against his tongue.

Then the world dissolved into a sea of red. Alex drank, and drank, and drank. He drank to Burr, who he knew was watching from the afterlife, maybe even grateful. He drank to John, who'd called him His Alex, who'd said that nothing else mattered, and who was gone too, no doubt looking for him up in the Heavens.

Alex drank past reason, past possibility. He gulped down litre after litre of fresh, delicious red fluid, and slowly felt his strength returning, his wound healing, his body regaining what it had lost, though the same was not true for his soul.

Finally, the blood stopped coming. Alex came up for air, gasping. He looked down at the body below him, and felt himself shiver.

Thomas was more than dead; drained, every ounce of blood that had once coursed through his veins, gone, sucked out. His skin was a bluish, greenish white, all the warmth gone, leaving him nothing more than a shell, an empty husk.

Alex staggered woozily to his feet and pressed a hand against his stomach. Leaning against the wall, he took a deep breath, swallowing down his nausea.

Just then a soft voice behind him said "Thomas."

Alex whirled around, and saw none other than James Madison, standing in the doorway, with his hands clenched into fists. He was staring at Jefferson's body with a look of complete and utter horror.

"James," Alex began, not really sure what he was going to say. His voice sounded husky. Then again, he hadn't used it in a while.

James looked up at him, and his features morphed into an expression of the purest, truest hatred Alex had ever seen. He roared with rage and raced toward Alex, raising his arms, ready to rip Alex apart limb-from-limb with his bare hands.

Rather than lunge back, Alex felt a wave of terror. He looked down at his clawed hands, at the blood soaking the front of his shirt, and suddenly comprehended perfectly how Lafayette must have felt after he killed Burr.

Swallowing hard, Alex whimpered, then turned around and bolted in the other direction.

Chapter Text

Alex crossed the room in a matter of strides and thrust open the backdoor, throwing himself out into the night. The cold, damp air hit him with a shock so intense he nearly collapsed onto the frosty ground.

Nevertheless, despite the burns and scars that seemed to re-ignite along his skin in the frigid outside air, even after being kept in a literal melting pot, Alex kept running. His renewed strength sent him racing through the trees. He didn't know where he was going or where he'd end up, but he didn't care -- just as long as it was far, far away from that underground lab.

As he ran, he became aware of the fact that he could see his shadow moving quickly along the forest floor. He came to a halt and looked up at the large, full moon above.

Then he heard a mournful howl. Lafayette.

Desperately, Alex scanned the trees around him for movement. He couldn't risk calling out, in case James had followed him. Instead, he let instinct take hold of him.

The sensation he next experienced was like nothing he could ever have imagined. The dark night around him seemed to become almost palpable; it drifted around him like a ghost, enveloping his body like a blanket - the pure absence of light. In a second he was overcome, and felt his feet lift off the ground. He grew smaller, and felt two leathery wings erupt from his shoulder-blades. With a victorious screech, he took off up into the sky, a small, grey bat, leaving the cloak of darkness behind.

He was far from a perfect flyer. He clumsily bobbed up and down, swayed a twisted, trying to get his wings to beat at the same rhythm. Steadily, he got the hang of it, and was able to discern right from left and down from up. He whirled around, his keen night vision searching the surrounding forest. A train came by. He watched it thunder down the tracks, and for some reason he couldn't explain, felt a pain in his heart. Otherwise, he felt himself go numb.

It is finished. He suddenly thought.

He looked up at the sky. A full moon shone brightly down at him, smiling sadly at him as if to say poor little vampire, with nothing left to live for.

Alex faced the pale round moon and flapped towards it, carrying himself higher and higher into the air. The trees below him fell away, the old cottage where James knelt weeping over his fallen friend grew tiny and distant beneath Alex's feet. He kept going slowly upward, turned to the sky, letting the stars embrace him.

As the air grew thinner, Alex only pushed harder. His wings dampened and grew heavy in the wispy clouds that were beginning to float in on a southward wind. The stars did seem to be growing closer, though, and a renewed hope filled Alex and kept him going, up and up and up.

Almost there, he thought to himself, I'm coming John.

Then, as the moon took over his vision, shining it's pale reflected light into his starry eyes, Alex let go. His wings relaxed, his eyes closed, and he said his silent goodbye.

-------------

Alex didn't fall far; a hand, tanned and freckled, reached out and caught him. He felt soft grass under his back, and a grin slid over his face as he opened his eyes.

John smiled down at him, his chocolate-coloured eyes glistening with joy. Alex caught sight of the string tied around his neck, with a small twisted piece of metal tied to it. The violet gemstone was smashed beyond recognition.

Alex felt himself relax. He sat up, and let John pull him to his feet. They exchanged smiles, then Alex threw himself into John's arms.

They embraced, and Alex saw Burr run up to them. He was smiling too, which was such an odd and beautiful thing that Alex felt tears of joy running down his cheeks. Burr threw his arms around Alex along with John, and then Alex's mother appeared and was hugging him too, and everyone was laughing, and it didn't matter that they were surrounded by darkness; they were all here, together.

Finally, Alex knew, everything was going to be alright. 

~~~~~~ The End~ ~~~~~