Chapter Text
Alexander was going to make it through this class, even if he was forced to do so with tissues shoved up his nose. He’d been getting progressively sick for the past two weeks, but being on a scholarship meant that he couldn’t afford to miss lectures. Sitting on his desk were two different notebooks, one in the center where he wrote his notes, and the other to the side where he kept his perpetual ‘things I haven’t done yet’ list, as well as two different water bottles. One filled with orange juice to try and fight whatever it is he’d come down with, the other with water when the acidity made it too harsh to calm down the near constant coughing fits.
When the Professor finally finished his lecture on the difference between expository and argumentative discourse, Hamilton let out a relieved sigh and started to shove his materials into his bag. Chugging down the last of his orange juice and trying to choke down the coughing fit it inspired, the freshman threw his bag over his shoulder and was almost out the door when a voice stopped him.
“Mr. Hamilton, if you don’t mind- a word.”
For a moment he contemplated fleeing, after all, he only had an hour or so between this and his next class and he’d been hoping to catch Laurens before going in. Not to mentioned that there was enough chatter that he could claim to have not heard. But the longer the moment stretched on, the more he realized he’d have to face the man. Turning on heel he walked to where the older man was waiting with his arms crossed.
“Professor Washington, have I done something wrong, Sir?”
If this had come weeks ago, he’d have understood. After all, his argument with Burr over the importance of not playing the middle during a debate might have gotten a little out of hand. He’d walked away with a black eye, though Burr definitely was worse for wear. The other man still alternated between shooting him glares and down right ignoring him when he spoke in class now.
But he’d been quiet this week, if for no other reason than the fact that this illness had him sounding like he was going through a second puberty. Alexander might not have had much in terms of money or stature, but if there was one thing he had in abundance- it was pride.
“Would you be so kind as to inform me why you’ve shown up to three lectures in a row now looking like death?”
Alexander shifted on spot, uncomfortable with the line of questioning. It wasn’t a particularly fair question, either, considering Washington’s policy on absences meant he’d drop a letter grade if he missed more than once without a doctor’s note. As if he had the money to see a doctor.
“Cat got your tongue, son?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sir.”
This time there’s a stress on the last word, the only way he’s willing to show his displeasure with the Professor’s choice on words.
Washington frowned in response, “You’ve been sick for far longer than a cold would usually wear on. You need to be seen if you haven’t already.”
Alexander huffed, “It’s stretching on because I can’t exactly escape the cold. Heater’s broken and they don’t know that they’ll get to it before finals. I’ll be fine, worry about someone else.”
Laurens would tell him to take a breath, to let someone express care for him for once. But life had already taught him that care could only go so far, softening himself at this point would only bring disappointment. When the Professor didn’t say anything immediately, Alexander tightened his grip on his bag before turning to leave.
Only to be stopped by the Professor once more, “Alexander.”
“What”
There was a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t bother to look as the older man brushed past him, “Come.”
It was Professor Washington, one of the few people that both demanded respect and tolerated his mouth, so what choice did he have but to follow. When the man breezed past his office door, Alexander stared at the door, trying to figure out where they were going.
Out of the building they went, and it wasn’t until they reached the parking lot that Alexander spoke, “Sir?”
The Professor stopped in front of a vehicle, “I have someone I’d like you to meet. If you have the time?”
Alexander weighed his options. He didn’t have the time, not really, he had a class to get to. But it was a class that didn’t take attendance and Laurens notes were always well written and as much as he wanted to see his friend, this seemed like a once in a life time opportunity. Would he still be Alexander Hamilton if he turned down an adventure like this?
Turning his head to protect the Professor from another coughing bought, Alexander climbed into the truck. The drove in relative silence, the only sound the gurgling of water as the student tried to quell any future coughing by drinking as continuously as possible. When they finally pulled up to the house, Hamilton stared.
It was huge, with columns and a porch with a swing on it. He followed the Professor mutely up the front stairs, quiet awe over who just might own this home, and curiosity of why the Professor thought it so urgent that they meet.
When the Professor knocked, an older woman answers, smiling brightly when she realizes who it is, “George! You’re home early. Are tonight’s lectures cancelled?”
“Martha, dear, “ they exchange a brief hug and Alexander watches in confusion, “I must be going soon actually. Likely going to be a late night, I wouldn’t wait up. However, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Alexander resists the urge to step to the side when George turned to reference him, stepping forward instead to shake the woman’s hand, “Alexander, Ma’am.”
“This is Alexander Hamilton,” George spoke over him, “I’m sure you remember me mentioning him before. He’s in my Speech class. I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind keeping one another company.”
Martha smiled, “Of course, come in dear. Why don’t you come in and sit in the living room while me and George fix some tea.”
The student nodded dumbly, clenching the strap on his bag for comfort as he allowed himself to be moved towards a large living space and sitting down on the large couch. The woman might have said they were going to make tea, but Hamilton wasn’t stupid- he knew when adults were making excuses because they needed to talk.
If he’d been better he’d have watched the door, waited for them to come out and tell him what was going on, but the couch was comfortable and before he realized it-
Hamilton was asleep.