Chapter Text
“Checkmate!” Alexander called triumphantly while he moved his queen to a winning space on the chessboard. Thomas Jefferson sat back in his seat with a gracious nod. Eliza sat next to her husband, reading the recent letters they had been sent intently with a smile on her face. The envelopes smelling of smoke. Smoking the paper had the effect of cleansing it of Yellow Fever contaminants. The room was still holding the smell of vinegar in hopes of warding off the disease. The room was warm, late afternoon light changing the tree leaves golden even as they were turning their own colors. The room was uncomfortably warm for the first week of August, and the window being open allowed breezes to pass through.
They were all sitting fully dressed, waiting for them to leave the hospital upon the approval of Doctor Raymond. Alexander sat propped with a pillow behind him while he sat in a wheelchair, his injuries somewhat better from three weeks prior after the explosion that landed him and Jefferson there. The trio would be sequestered at Jefferson's rented home outside of the city for a week until the Hamiltons were cleared to go on to Albany. All of them were still shaken from their recent shared illness but were enthusiastic about leaving the hospital after the extra time within its walls. Jefferson had taken to writing both of his daughters as his health improved and was pleased to find letters from them not long after awakening from his delirium. They would soon all be re-united with their loved ones. Thomas as much as Alexander; as he had made his decision, he'd be going home soon.
A groan of pain startled Thomas from his reverie as his hand paused from placing the chess pieces back in the box. He glanced up to find Alexander holding the calf of his leg, his face pale and pinched with pain. Eliza had put aside her letter and was standing next to him, her eyes wide even as she held his shoulders, trying to comfort him. “Alexander? What's wrong?” Her voice was strained as her brown eyes met his.
With a shaky breath, he stammered. “I-I don't know. I was sitting here thinking about the chess game when it came on suddenly. My l-leg h-hurts.” Alexander winced again, his breath quickening as he took short, shallow breaths, clutching his aching limb. Through the pain, his head shot up, his body stilled as he looked from his wife to his leg. “My leg hurts....” he whispered. Then turning to Eliza with widened eyes said louder, “Eliza, my leg hurts!”
Thomas let the chessboard clatter to the bedside table with an unceremonious 'thump' as he too stood and went to Alexander's bedside. “The pressure on your back must be lifting.” He spoke up, “I'll see if I can't hurry along the doctor.”
Five minutes later, Doctor Raymond entered the room and made his way to his patient. “I understand your leg is bothering you and you can now feel it.” At Hamilton's weak nod, he continued. The doctor's face was impassive and professional as he sat on the edge of the bed close to Hamilton's feet. “I want to confirm it before moving forward. He gently tapped Alexander's knee asking, “Did you feel that?” Again, Hamilton nodded. Eliza watched the exam intently, her eyes flitting from Alexander to the doctor. She gently hushed him at his winces of pain while carding a gentle hand through his hair. Thomas too, watched with fascination at his former rival's leg twitch with newly found sensation, a feeling of something like relief filling his mind.
The Treasury Secretary's shoes were removed as Doctor Raymond pressed a finger to the sole of each of Alexander's feet asking if he could feel it, which Hamilton confirmed with a strained “Yes.” Doctor Raymond observed carefully, his brows scrunched together in concentration. Each tap and prod of Alexander's leg was methodical. “Hamilton, can you tell how it feels? Does it hurt in once place more than another?”
“It's-it's different.” Alexander's words were thick with effort. “There-there's a twinge, and then it fades. It feels.... alive?” His voice rose with uncertainty at the end of his sentence, his eyes prickled with tears at both the pain and the revelation.
Then Doctor Raymod asked Alexander to curl his toes, which he did, but not before wincing in pain while doing so with his injured leg. The examination left Alexander trying to ease his panting breaths, casting an annoyed glance towards the doctor who turned to face them. Perhaps because he disliked being discussed as if he were not in the room.
“Good.” The doctor said gently, though still professional in his tone. That's a positive sign.” He paused and looked at Eliza. “I believe Mr. Hamilton's back compression has subsided, as evidenced by the return of sensation in his legs.”
Alexander heard his wife's breath hitch as though she were on the verge of tears. “Is there a chance he will walk again?” No doubt she and him were envisioning the same things; dancing at parties, taking walks around town and in the parks of New York City.
Doctor Raymond met her gaze, pushing up his glasses from his nose before he spoke. “From the movement in his legs, I think it's entirely possible.”
The tension in the room shifted as a wave of optimism filled both Alexander and Eliza. He squeezed her hand, grounding himself in her warmth, and met Thomas' eyes that were now filled with a kindness he'd only seen when they had first met in early 1790. Then, Alexander turned back to the doctor. “What do we do now?”
“The next phase will be observation and therapy,” Doctor Raymond explained, standing up to gather his instruments. “Physical therapy can help strengthen your muscles and improve mobility. We will develop a routine that works with your body’s response, for both you and Secretary Jefferson. The key is to be patient with yourself.”
“Patient,” Alexander echoed, his lips twitching with a wry smile. “That’s not easy for me.”
Eliza laughed softly, the sound like a gentle bell chiming through the room. “No, it isn’t. But we’ll be in it together, right? One day at a time.” She brushed her fingers along his forearm lovingly.
I would recommend that he stay for further observation...” At Alexander's pinched mouth, he continued, “But I think it is not absolutely necessary.” He then spoke to Hamilton directly, “You'll be in the leg splint for another three weeks and you must not strain yourself with your broken ribs. A wheelchair will be necessary for the duration. Once you've healed enough, you can proceed to a crutch or leg brace. And you will need to rest and eat.” He paused and his eyes swept the three occupants of the room. “All of you must rebuild your strength. You're all still weak from the Yellow Fever.”
“I understand.” Hamilton said quietly, “Thank you, Doctor Raymond.”
The doctor nodded, “Now, I believe there is a carriage outside. One of the orderlies will carry you downstairs.” Jefferson noted Hamilton's tightened jaw at that. Doctor Raymond turned to face them next, “Are you alright to walk or shall I have help ordered for you?”
“I'm fine, Doctor Raymond, thank you.” Eliza answered serenely.
Jefferson raised a hand, “I can walk under my own power.”
Doctor Raymond nodded. “Then, I will wish you a speedy recovery and hope we meet again under better circumstances. I have rounds to attend, so I wish you all a good day.”
When the doctor swept out of the room, Alexander's eyes filled with tears and his shoulders began to shake. Eliza too had tears spilling down her face, though a happy expression could be seen by her lips drawn up in a smile. They held each other's hand, Eliza squeezing his as she sat down beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh honey, I am so happy for you.”
Jefferson turned his back while stowing the chessboard in a carpetbag to give the couple a moment of privacy, but not before letting out a quiet exhale as well.
After a few minutes, Hamilton's watery voice broke the silence, a small sniffle issuing from him as he wiped away tears with his hand. “Mr. Jefferson? Forgive me, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Thomas turned back to them, straightening up as he lifted his small travel carpetbag. “It's no problem. I would feel the same way if I were in the same situation, Hamilton. Don't give it a second thought. But I do think we should probably head downstairs before the carriage leaves without us.” He added with a smile.