Work Text:
'mondieujenepeuxpasrespirerwhatifi'mdyingwhat'sgoingonwhereiseveryonesomeoneaidez-moiineedhelpgodit'ssofuckingdarkmerdethey'realldeadfuckican'tdealwiththatican'tjenepeuxpas' is what Lafayette is thinking at 2:36 am. But nothing is coming out of their mouth, except panicked wheezing and hyperventilating. The light flicks on and arms wrap around their waist. Lafayette twists away in a blind panic, screaming in terror. They can’t let the men with guns capture them. Not if they want to live. There's a voice.
"Laf, baby, it's ok. You're safe," it says. God that voice is familiar and Laf wants to trust it but they're terrified and they can't breathe and the men with guns are in the house, closing in like bloodthirsty hounds. Another familiar voice speaks to their left.
“Lafayette, everything will be ok,” voice two soothes, “but I need you to breathe for me.” Lafayette can’t get their breathing to slow, the tears to stop, the racing of their heart to calm. They whimper. The second voice speaks again, closer, gentler. “Lafayette, look at me, sweetheart.” The room, a bit too bright, is coming into focus.
‘Hercules’ Lafayette’s brain supplies as their eyes finally clear enough to see the features of the second voice’s owner. Not one of those men. Their panic decreases marginally. Alex comes into focus behind Hercules, closer to the bed. Lafayette’s breathing is slowing, well above normal, but no longer half-useless hyperventilation. Hercules moves closer carefully, as if dealing with a spooked horse.
“Do you know who I am, Laf?” he asks carefully.
“Hercules Mulligan, and the person behind you is Alexander Hamilton,” Lafayette pauses for a moment before letting out a dry, half-hiccough, half-sob. “And you are both alive.” A thought strikes them like a punch to the gut and their heart rate and breathing speed up, eyes widening with fear. “Where’s John?” The world is beginning to spin too fast again. The assassins will never stop until their entire family is dead. Not even the ones they love in America are safe. How foolish could they be, putting those wonderful boys in danger?. “Oh dieu, non.” Lafayette moans, expecting the worst. John’s blood is on their hands. If they had never loved the boy. . .
Alex jumps in before Lafayette can descend into full panic. “John had to go home for a family thing,” he placates. ”He texted us before bed, telling us he was safe and already annoyed with his father, remember?” It feels like too long ago but Lafayette nods mutely, coming back down again. Hercules inches close enough to touch. Lafayette stiffens for a moment before closing the gap between them and folding their taller frame into Hercules’ broader one. They don’t see it, but Hercules and Alexander look intensely relieved the moment they do.
“No one is coming for us, love,” Alex reminds Laf, walking over to join the embrace, “we are safe here.” They all stand there, wrapped around each other for a minute or two, before Hercules decides they all need to get back to sleep and gently herds Laf and Alex towards the bed. They situate themselves with Hercules nearest the edge, Lafayette in the middle for comfort, and Alex nearest the wall to keep him from escaping before the sun rises. Lafayette is the first to go, worn out and listening to the steady beat of Hercules’ heart. Alex is next, but only because Hercules wants to make sure he actually sleeps instead of just laying there thinking or trying to sneak away. And finally, Hercules drops off a couple minutes later to the lullaby of Alexander and Lafayette’s even breathing.