Chapter Text
This has to be the worst idea Washington has ever had.
Of all the horrible plans to get his employees to bond, this has to be the worst one. Gathering them all in the meeting room to spend time on bonding exercises like they’re in summer camp has become a staple of the company. Although, they’ve become more therapy-ish lately ever since the...painting incident a couple weeks back.
"So, you'll write on these notecards and I'll read them out. This exercise is completely anonymous, no one will know who wrote what." Washington explains, his chipper tone a stark contrast to the blank looks his employees are giving him.
Yup, Alex is sure this is the worst idea yet. It's also the most vulnerable Washington has ever asked them to be. Usually he's overly anxious about boundaries and secrets, but desperate times and all. This must be punishment for one too many prank wars just this month.
He blames Jefferson completely.
Despite the lack of an equally enthusiastic response, or any response at all, Washington continues "Any questions?"
“Um, yeah, this is fucking stupid.” Hell must be freezing over if people are murmuring in agreement with Lee of all people. Despite how much it hurts, Alex also has to agree with the insufferable emo. Seriously, smokey eyeliner is so 2012 Tumblr.
"That wasn't a question. Anyone else? Genuine questions only."
Jefferson beats Alex to it, the toddler of a man actually raising his hand. “Can we opt out of this..activity?”
Proper as always, refusing to disrespect their boss even after hearing his stupid ideas.
"No. It's mandatory. You can write any experience you've had in life that has shaped who you are. It doesn't have to be completely tragic.”
There are a few pointed looks towards Alex, and he can't even be offended. He's always worn his past mostly on his sleeve, to make sure blackmail was impossible. Alex is nothing if not an overzealous planner.
Despite his anxiety, he can’t help but make a snarky comment, “Hey, maybe we’ll finally get a clue as to why Jefferson is such a dick.”
Alex mentally pats himself on the back at the snickers he gets.
Alex: 347
Jeffershit: 346
He smirks at Jefferson, but the man is quick with a retort.
“I would say the same about you Hamilton, but I’m pretty sure we all know you were born a piece of shit.”
More snickers, and their imaginary scores tie up again. Neither of them are ever in the lead for long. Alex likes it that way.
“That’s enough, both of you.” Washington interrupts before a full argument can start, and he hands out the notecards. They’re too small for Alex to write anything really meaningful, and he scowls as he realizes that decision was probably intentional. He could write an entire novel on his life if he wanted.
Still, he picks up his pen and resigns himself to write as small as he can. Now he just has to decide which traumatic event he wants to write about. Quite the decision, and a quickly glance around shows that his coworkers are having a similar problem. Or maybe they just don't have much to write about. Now that he's thinking about it, that's probably it.
Suddenly Washington snatches up Jefferson’s notecard, replacing it with a fresh one. “Meeting a coworker you dislike does not count as a defining hardship.”
Alex, once again, can’t hold back a jab. “Having trouble finding any hardships in your perfect life huh? Maybe you could write about your dad buying you a Lambo in the wrong color or something," He snarks.
“Shut the fuck up Hamilton,” Jefferson spits with the same amount of venom he always seems to have when Alex pokes fun at his past.
He and Jefferson are opposites in that regard. Alex almost flaunts his past, beyond proud of how far he’s come despite his life. But Jefferson guards his background like nuclear launch codes, careful in every conversation to never drop any hints. All Alex knows about him is that he grew up in Virginia, and that he comes from old money. He wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out Jefferson’s parents were actual demons and he crawled up from hell.
Of course there are theories, rumors. When even Angelica Schuyler—the girl know for knowing everything about everyone—barely knows anything about you, people pay attention.
Anyway, back to the stupid team building exercise. Alex finally decides on an event, and, for once, is one of the first people done writing. He’s tempted to try and read what others are writing, but it feels a bit too invasive given some of the solemn looks on their faces. He’s nosy, but not that nosy.
The one person he doesn’t mind looking over the shoulder of is John, and he snickers when he sees that his friend has hastily crossed out “meeting Lee." He and Jefferson aren’t the only ones with a childish rivalry.
Alex does frown when he sees what’s replaced that idea.
Finally leaving my abusive home
If he ever meets Henry Laurens, he’s going to shove his foot up the guys ass.
Alex picks at his nails, and looks around again, his eyes landing on Jefferson. His eyes always go back to Jefferson.
His picking gets more insistent when he sees the Virginian playing with a few of his curls, pulling them and letting them bounce back into place. It’s a habit, one that only happens when he’s genuinely anxious. He loves annoying Jefferson, but his heart does weird things when he sees the man is nervous. Jefferson’s hand shakes as he finishes what he wrote, he glances at Alex, who quickly looks away and pretends like he was never staring.
He’s glad when Washington starts collecting their notecards and explaining the next part of this whole exercise.
“Next, I’ll read them out. Like I said, this is completely anonymous, but if you want to claim your story you are free to. Hopefully this will give you all more empathy for each other.”
There are whispers of disbelief and disagreement, but George ignores them all.
John nudges Alex, whispering, “Hey, bet I can guess more tragic backstories than you.”
Despite them having no real way to confirm, Alex never backs down from a challenge.
“Stakes?” He almost shudders at the wicked smirk that stretches across John’s face.
“You stop being a pussy and tell Jefferson you wanna suck his dick already.”
Alex’s face goes hot and he is about to loudly deny these ridiculous accusations, but George begins to read. The challenge begins.
Most of it is generic shit or painfully obvious. Typical of the upper class lives most of the people here have lived. “My dog died” or “I got into my dream school." Alex really couldn’t be bothered to pay attention, but he has to, writing down which rich asshole experience was attached to which rich asshole. He smiled whenever he heard one from one of his friends though.
“My moms adopting me (yes they’re lesbians Franklin, lesbians exist)" is obviously from Hercules.
“Immigrating to America and meeting all these lovely people." Lafayette.
“Punching Adams in the dick." That one gets a sigh from Washington and a disappointed look in Angelica’s direction.
“Meeting Sammy!!!” Obviously King. Samuel himself blushes and sinks into his seat to try and avoid any looks.
“Finding God again after a dark time." Samuel sinks down further
“My parents dying.” Burr straightens up, his blank expression giving away nothing like usual.
The tone in the room shifts, and things get serious.
Two read “My mom passing away." Eliza and Peggy, poor girls. Alex knows what it's like, so he tried to shoot them a reassuring smile.
“Becoming everything I promised I wouldn’t be." That one, Alex doesn't know. He sits up straighter. The game was actually getting interesting.
“Escaping an abusive situation." Maria? The girl always seemed a bit..rough around the edges.
“Surviving my third, and last, suicide attempt." Fuck, he has no clue. John scribbles something next to him, and Alex realizes he’s losing. There’s only a few notecards left, so he has to lock in.
“My mother leaving." Another blank, straightforward one, similar to Burr. It gives away nothing more that what was said.
Madison..he had no idea. How could he and Madison share such a trauma?
Alex and him had been friends for a bit in college, before Jeffershit destroyed their connection like the selfish asshole he was. Sure, Jefferson and Madison were childhood friends, but still! Wasn't the time they spent together meaningful to him?
Madison was the first person to say that Alex was similar to Jefferson, back when Alex didn’t know any better to take offense to that comment.
“Finding out that the trauma lasts forever”
So telling yet so vague. Alex hums, but a glance to John shows the southerner also didn’t know, so it didn’t matter much. They’re even now. At least, he hopes they are. He gets ready for the final point to achieve his victory, but Washington pauses on the last notecard. This has to be really juicy if George is choked up about it.
“Um..perhaps I should have put a trigger warning before this activity..” He says.
Oh god, now Alex feels bad for being excited. But still, they all spilled their guts, it’s only fair.
Washington takes a breath, and reads the final card, “My father’s sexual abuse.”
Oh fuck
The entire atmosphere in the room gets even darker than it was. How the hell are you supposed to react to a confession like that? Guilt is heavy, especially for Alex. He knows for a fact that he’s been an asshole to everyone in this room at one point or another. He’s not cruel, just stupid sometimes. Oh god, that doesn't make it better, does it?
Something shifts in the corner of his eye, and he looks over. Jefferson is looking at his lap, fingers in his hair tugging at his curls again. Madison is holding his other hand and whispering to him, trying to..comfort him.
Everything snaps into place so fast it gives Alex whiplash.
The secrecy, the genuine anger at any prodding or speculation, the overly formal behavior towards Washington. It all fits together like a horrible, fucked up puzzle.
His first thought is, how the hell did he not know? Then, his next is, how the hell could he have known?
He barely notices when Washington dismisses them for the day. He does notice how Madison has to drag Jefferson out. The man looks so dazed. A strange surge of protectiveness spurs Alex to follow them. He can't quite understand why he cares, he just does.
Jefferson is completely despondent. Madison has to urge his every step with a hand on the small of his back. They're moving fast, faster for even Jefferson's long legs. As he catches up, it becomes clear Jefferson is having a panic attack. Madison is so focused on calming his friend, he doesn’t notice that Alex follows them into his office.
When Madison does notice him, his mouth immediately opens to lash out at him. Alex pushes right back him to grab Jefferson's shoulders and yell at him to breathe.