Chapter Text
Ternant will relate to you how many violent struggles I have had between duty and inclination—how much my heart was with you, while I appeared to be most actively employed here.
- John Laurens to Alexander Hamilton, 14 July 1779
John awoke to the sounds of Alex tossing and turning, whimpering in his sleep. He looked drearily to the clock on the nightstand. 2:54 AM. Sitting up and trying his best to wake himself up a bit, he tentatively reached out and shook Alex’s shoulder a bit. Sometimes that was all it took. Not tonight.
“Lex?” John asked quietly. “Alex, wake up.”
Alex was still fast asleep, muttering something indecipherable as his body twitched and he grabbed the sheets of John’s cramped twin bed tightly. John could feel sweat leaking through the back of his shirt.
“John,” Alexander murmured, and for a moment John thought that he had woken up, but it soon became clear that he wasn’t talking to the real John.
“I’m right here,” he whispered, trying to wrap his hands around Alexander’s to unclench them from the sheets, but they were too tight.
“No. No. no. John–” Alexander tossed around, John’s hands falling from his own in the process.
John swallowed harshly, looking down at his boyfriend with worry. Alex had asked him to try and wake him up if he was having a nightmare. It usually worked. But it wasn’t working this time.
Alex was on his back now, and John reached out to shake his shoulder again. All it did was seemingly disturb the poor boy even more, as he let out a whimper and squeezed his face tightly.
“Alexander? Please wake up,” John said, a bit more loudly this time, a lot more desperately.
It did nothing.
The last thing he thought of, his hail-mary, was pinching his own wrist. He did it more harshly than usual, so that hopefully, Alex would feel it in the dream.
Alexander stopped moving, and for a moment, John panicked, before his boyfriend gasped loudly and sat up, breathing coming in shallow gasps. “John? How are you– where–”
“I’m right here,” John murmured. He held out his hands for Alex to take if he wanted. “I’m right here, baby.”
“You were– you–” Alexander broke into a loud sob, pulling his knees up to his chest. “How are you here?’
“What do you mean?”
“You were dead.”
John’s heart plummeted to the ground. Alexander had nightmares quite often, especially when he was stressed. John didn’t even live in the same dorm as him, but he slept over often enough to know how frequent they were. But Alex had never mentioned him being a part of his dreams. “I’m not dead, Lex. I’m right here. It was just a dream.” He placed a hand on Alex’s knee, and was relieved when he didn’t flinch away.
Alexander slowly reached up and interlaced his fingers with John’s, squeezing tightly. His breathing was still shallow. “Can you come here?” he asked.
“Of course.”
John scooched over and laid his back against the headboard, opening his arms and allowing Alex to crawl over. He held him tight as he shook, loud sobs escaping from his mouth. He gripped John’s biceps as if trying to prove to himself that he was real.
“It’s okay, Lex. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
The sun shone bright on John’s face through the curtain as he woke up the next morning. Hearing the noise of frantic typing, he rolled around to find Alexander sitting up in bed with his laptop on his lap, typing out an essay which John knew for a fact wasn’t from a class, because the term had ended three days ago.
“Lex, why are you writing? What time is it?”
Alexander looked a little startled to see John awake. “Oh, uh–” he checked the clock on his laptop– “Seven thirty.”
“You didn’t answer my first question.”
Alex shrugged. “Woke up. It was too late to go back to sleep.”
“Dude, it’s summer. There’s no such thing as ‘too late to go back to sleep.’
Alexander just rolled his eyes and went back to his typing. John groaned and reached over, literally prying his hands off the keyboard.
“John…”
“Alex…”
Alex sighed. He freed his hands from John’s grasp and shut the lid of his laptop. “Fine,” he sighed. He leaned over to put his laptop on the floor next to the bed before turning back around to settle in John’s arms. “I’m… sorry about last night,” he murmured.
“It’s okay. Do you want to talk about it?”
Alexander shrugged.
“Alex? I’m just a little worried because– well, you’ve never mentioned dreaming about me before.”
“I never have.”
“Oh.”
They stayed like that for a while, John just searching Alex’s face for answers of any kind while the other boy looked awkwardly down at the sheets.
“Do you know why you did tonight?”
Alexander shrugged. “Maybe…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does.” John reaches out and tilts Alexander’s chin up. “What is it?”
“Well, I tend to get the dreams more when I’m stressed out, and, well, I guess I’m stressed about you.”
John felt his heart drop through his chest. His mind immediately went to his wrists. Was this it? The day that Alexander finally decided that John was too much, too painful? “I– I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“What? Sorry for what?”
“For– for making you worried. For being so–” he looked down at his arms, at the scars that littered them.
“Oh, John, no, I didn’t mean that,” Alexander quickly grabbed his hands and placed them on his chest, holding them close. “I just meant you… going home.”
“Ah. Right.” John had been pointedly avoiding thinking about that. He hadn’t been back to South Carolina since the Christmas break, since before he met Alexander. His life was so much better now. He didn’t want to think about what might happen when he inevitably had to go back to his childhood home. The only consolation would be that he could see his siblings again. “It’s okay,” he lied. “You don’t have to worry about me. I survived eighteen years there. Three weeks won’t do me any harm.”
Alexander looked skeptical. “But you always–”
“Not anymore. I can handle myself now.”
“You’ll call me if you need to talk, yeah? If you have any urges, you tell me.”
“Of course.” In actuality, John probably wasn’t going to tell him every time. Given that would probably mean calling 24/7. It sounds pessimistic, sure, but it was true. Looking back, John honestly didn’t know how he actually lived in that house for eighteen years and lived to tell the tale. He had only been out of it for a year, but already he was growing used to the freedom.
Luckily, John’s flight was that afternoon, and so they had time to laze around in the dorm and cuddle and watch movies all day. It was something they did often when they didn’t have too much work to do. Well, when John didn’t have too much work to do. If Alexander didn’t have any work, you could rest assured that he would find some. John felt bad about it, sometimes. Alex wrote articles for a local publication which earned him a decent amount of income for a college student. And then he went and spent it on therapy for John. Well, not all of it, but a significant amount. John’s father would never pay for such a thing, and so they had to fund it themselves. And even though Alexander told him many times that he didn’t mind one bit, John still found himself having a hard time trusting it.
He really needed to find himself a job.
But that would be a problem for the next school year, once he was back in New York.
The dorm had been mostly packed up, all of his clothes and things important enough he would need to take home (Laptop, sketchbook, phone charger…) were all packed into a couple of suitcases and a backpack. The rest of his stuff was in Laf and Herc’s new apartment. The two others had graciously let him dump all of his things there over the summer so that he didn’t have to get rid of them or place them into a storage unit until he got his new dorm. Alexander was going to be staying with them over summer, too, since he didn’t have anywhere to go, and John would be joining after the three weeks at his old home in South Carolina. His dad had been pretty ticked off that he refused to spend the whole two months there, but John knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle that. So he would have to endure a bit more of the man’s wrath but over a shorter period. It was a trade off he was willing to make.
The whole day, John could tell that Alexander’s anxiety was building. John himself was simply feeling a looming sense of dread. He kept looking at the clock. Six more hours. Three more hours. One more hour until they had to leave.
“Think we have time for a quick…” Alexander was muttering at one point, holding himself over John on his elbows and leaning down for a kiss. The two were sprawled on the bed.
John twisted his head to get a look at the digital clock on his nightstand and Alexander buried the end of his question into John’s neck, kissing up and down like a starved man. Well, more like a man about to be starved. His heart sank when he saw the time. He tried to calculate how late they were, but it was hard to focus when Alex kept doing that thing with his goddamn teeth.
“Lex,” John groaned. “Hey, Lex, stop.”
Alexander pulled himself off John's neck and looked down at him. “What?”
“We need to go.”
Alexander looked over at the clock, and when he saw the time, 2:34 PM, he scowled at it as if it had personally insulted him. “Only an hour and a half till your flight. Pretty late, huh? Might as well just miss it.” He dove back down and started attacking John’s neck with his lips again.
“Alexander.” John used the sternest voice he could muster at that moment.
Alex groaned as he looked up. “Yes?”
“We need to go.”
“Why?” Alexander looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes, a trick that he knew worked every time.
Not this time, though. He was going to have to face his dad sooner or later, like it or not. And he would have rathered not to get a beating for being late. It would hurt Alexander, too. That was what he was most worried about.
“I have a flight in less than two hours, Alexander, I need to go.”
Alexander sighed and rolled off of him, sitting up. Even though he was a bit exasperated, John still felt cold at the loss of contact.
“You promise me you’ll tell me if you need anything?” Alex asked, his voice having lost the easy confidence it had before.
“Of course, baby.”
Alexander took a deep breath. “Okay.” He turned around to look at John. “Come on, then.”
——
The two of them took a cab to the airport, since public transport would have taken way too long.
“You don’t have to come, I know the cab for the way back is going to be expensive,” John had said.
“Don’t be silly. I’m not saying goodbye to you until you’re right outside of TSA, you hear me?” Alexander replied.
It looked like John had decided not to argue, because he didn’t complain after that.
The taxi ride was quiet. John’s leg was bobbing nervously up and down the whole time. Alexander reached over and took his hand, squeezing gently. It was going to be okay, he kept telling himself. It was only three weeks. What harm could that do?
It was a stupid question, of course. It could do all the harm in the world. John had come so far since Alexander had met him. He was happier, more confident, more comfortable in his own skin. John had admitted one night, or maybe it was morning, when neither of them could sleep, that it was the happiest he could ever remember feeling. That made Alexander’s heart swell with pride. He still wasn’t completely better. He still had bad days. But the bad days were getting fewer and further between and even though John protested about Alexander paying for his therapy, he could never regret it. John was his soulmate. He would do anything for him.
Including flying down to South Carolina himself and beating Henry Laurens to a pulp.
If it came to that.
After all, Henry Laurens doesn’t have a soulmate. It wouldn’t be unethical.
Alexander’s phone buzzed and he picked it up to see a few new messages in the groupchat.
Laf: Good luck on your trip, John!
Herc: Yeah, and remember to let me know if I need to beat anyone up.
Alexander smiled before typing out a message.
Alex: Not sure how successful you’ll be at beating someone up from halfway across the country, but sure.
Herc: I have my ways.
“Who’re you texting?” John asked.
“The groupchat. The guys wish you good luck. Well, Laf wishes you good luck. Herc offered to beat someone up for you if needed.”
John smiled. “I think I’ll be okay on that one, but if I’m wrong, I’ll hit him up I guess.”
“Might come in handy with your dickhead of a dad,” Alexander muttered.
“Lex, he’s an asshole, but threats of violence aren’t going to change that. I need to stay on his good side so he’ll keep paying for my college. I just need to get through this.”
Alexander hated to hear those words come out of his beautiful boyfriend’s mouth. No one should just have to get through the beatings of an abusive parent. But he was right. They were both broke as hell. John was lucky that his father was paying for him and that he wouldn’t be stuck in immense debt for the rest of his life.
Privately, Alexander thought it would be better to be in immense debt while doing a career that doesn’t bore you to death, but he supposed he couldn’t blame John for disagreeing. Still, he hated the idea of John being stuck doing law his whole life just because it’s the only thing his stupid dad would pay for.
“Well, I’ll only be a pinch away,” Alexander said instead, squeezing John’s hand tightly. To prove his point a little, he pulled his hand away from John’s and used it to lightly pinch his left wrist. John smiled and pinched back.
It was something they’d done most of their lives, a little reassurance that someone was there, enduring your pain with you. That you weren’t alone. It was still surreal doing it in person. Meeting your soulmate was never something that anyone expected. It’s not something you imagine. Which is what made it all the more exhilarating.
But now John was going back to South Carolina, and maybe it was a bit overprotective, but Alexander wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms and tell him not to go. But he couldn’t keep John from his siblings. He had to let him go.
Just for three weeks, he kept telling himself. Just three weeks. It wasn’t even that long. Three weeks, two weekends.
Too long. But they would have to make it through.
The taxi pulled up outside the airport a half an hour later, and Alexander helped John unload his suitcases. He slung John’s backpack over his shoulder.
“I can carry my own backpack, Lex.”
“And what kind of boyfriend would that make me look like?” he responded with mock offense.
John just rolled his eyes with a fond smile and grabbed his suitcases, walking into the building.
“Ah, ah ah, give me at least one of those,” Alexander said, reaching for a suitcase and successfully swiping it off of him.
“Alex…”
“John…” Alexander gave him the puppy dog eyes again, and John relented.
“I swear, you are insufferable,” John muttered underneath his breath.
“Yeah, but you love me.”
John smiled and even though they’d been dating months, the words still made him blush from his forehead to his neck. It was the most adorable thing Alexander had ever seen. He loved making John blush.
“I do,” John sighed. “I really do.”
After helping John check his bags in and giving him one last kiss, they finally broke apart. And Alexander had to watch him go through security, leaving for the next three weeks to a hellhole that almost made him kill himself last time he went. He stayed standing there, feet glued to the airport floor, until John finished going through TSA and disappeared into the endless maze of the airport.
——
John was really planning on sleeping his way through the entire flight. Alex pinched his wrist about three times before they’d even taken off, and John had to message him to assure him that he was fine, and that he needn’t worry so much.
Not yet.
He woke up about an hour and a half in, though, and not feeling like sleeping any more after spending the entire day lazing around in bed with Alexander, he decided to go to the bathroom to use the toilet. Maybe he could freshen up a bit in the mirror so that he at least looked somewhat presentable when he arrived. Luckily, he had an aisle seat, so he slipped out and headed down the aisle before reaching the bathroom.
He used the toilet and then washed his hands before looking at himself in the mirror. The first thing that caught his eye was the untidiness of his ponytail. The second was the dark bruise starting to take shape on his neck.
Shit.
Coming home to South Carolina already sounded like a nightmare. Coming home to South Carolina with a hickey on his neck? He was going to have some serious explaining to do.