Work Text:
In the course of about a month, Alexander manages to lose ten things.
The first is a hairbrush. No big deal, it probably just fell behind some furniture or got stuffed in a drawer in Alexander’s last ‘quick I’m having company make things look alright’ cleaning spree. He looks for about ten minutes before realizing he’s going to be late to work so he throws his hair up in a messy ponytail and forgets about it.
He lives about five days without a hairbrush before he remembers to buy a new one at Target when he’s picking up some other things.
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The second thing is a notebook. This goes missing around the same time as the hairbrush but Alexander doesn’t notice he’s lost it until after he’s forgotten about the brush. He is considerably more upset about losing his notebook, however. It’s got all his notes for his upcoming presentation and now if he doesn’t find it he’s going to have to write them all out again.
Alexander tears his office apart looking for the damned thing before remembering he took it home with him last weekend. Grumbling to himself about his shitty memory in the mornings, Alexander vows to find it when he gets home and throws himself into something else.
When he gets home, Alexander searches his apartment top to bottom, but has no luck. He finds six other notebooks he thought he’d lost before but no sign of the one he needs. He searches on and off for a couple of days before he gives up and rewrites everything from memory as best he can the night before the meeting.
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The third thing is a picture of him and Thomas back when they were together. It was a shot of the two of them standing on a wooden dock, arms wrapped around each other and smiling. It was one of those overpriced things you get from amusement parks but it was cute, the park’s logo in the background and other people milling about.
It had been one of the few things Alexander had kept from his time with Thomas. They both had looked so happy together. It had stood as a memorial to the good times, before things had fallen apart. Before quiet nights in, spent bantering and laughing, had turned sullen and full of arguments.
To find that it was gone was disheartening. It had stood on the end table by Alexander’s couch almost two years before it vanished. Alexander checked everywhere he might have unintentionally shoved it, afraid he might have thrown it away or destroyed it during a late-night drinking session. He even called a couple of friends that had visited recently to see if they remember it being there. No one knew anything about it, or at least admitted to knowing anything.
When he gave up looking, Alexander cracked open a few beers and drank to the loss.
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The fourth thing was Alexander’s favorite tee shirt from college. It had been a gift from John back when Alexander couldn’t afford to feed himself let alone pay for new clothing. Despite how old it was, the bright blues long faded and the name was near unreadable now, Alexander had kept it. He sleeps in it, when he actually remembers to sleep that is.
Which is how he discovers it is gone. Exhausted from a long week, Alexander digs through his drawers only to come up empty. Suddenly awake, Alexander dives through his laundry pile but it’s not there either. Alexander turns his apartment upside down for the third time in two weeks, questioning how he’s managed to lose so many important things in such a short period of time.
He doesn’t find the shirt to his chagrin.
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The fifth thing is his goddamned cologne and it’s the last fucking straw. It’s the morning after he lost his shirt and he can’t believe it. Alexander tears his apartment apart yet again, pulling all the furniture away from the walls and looking for a mouse hole or something. He finds nothing, no sign of any creature or pest that might have taken his shit to make a nest.
Alex puts all his furniture back and dumps every drawer in his house out one at a time, slowly proving to himself that nothing he’s lost in the last two weeks is anywhere in his apartment. He even digs through his trash cans, grateful he’s bad about taking out the garbage but gets nothing for his troubles but old food and mountains of crumpled paper.
Alexander calls the landlady to make sure there weren’t any break-ins or reports of pests in the building. She says that there’s been nothing of the sort, but reminds him that he owes her money for the replacement key he had gotten from her. Alexander doesn’t remember getting a replacement key, but he’s too wrapped up in his current crisis to worry about that.
When he gets to the office the next day, Alexander searches his office, the break room, everywhere he thinks might be hiding any of his things. Thomas catches him rifling through the cabinets in the meeting room.
“Something the matter, Hamilton?” He asks.
“Lost a bunch of shit and I can’t find any of it,” Alexander grumbles, pawing through bags of pretzels and chips.
“Like what?” Thomas says. Alexander shakes his head.
“A notebook, my Columbia shirt, some other things.”
“...I’ll keep an eye out,” Thomas says, but there’s an odd hesitance, a thoughtfulness in his voice that Alexander can’t place. The taller man leaves the room before Alexander can say anything. Alexander pauses in his search to look at the door Thomas shut behind him, the familiar sadness and loss rising in his chest.
There are many things he regrets, and Thomas is involved in a lot of them.
He goes back to digging through his coworkers’ food, knowing that he’s not getting anywhere in his search but damn it this feels productive.
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The sixth thing Alexander loses is twenty bucks.
When he gets home that day, still puzzling over his series of missing items, Alexander stops at the front desk. He rings the bell and a second later, his landlady emerges.
“Good afternoon Alexander,” Eliza says, smiling brightly at him. “What can I do for you?”
“Are you sure there haven’t been any break-ins? Not just in the building, but in the area,” he asks. Eliza frowns, thinking.
“I would know, Alex. I talk to everyone on this block.” She pauses. “Why?”
“I’m missing some things and I’m just checking every possibility.”
“You think you’ve been stolen from?” Eliza’s eyebrows shoot up in concern.
“No, no I don’t really think that,” Alexander consoles. “I don’t think anyone would take an old shirt and cologne and pass up the tv.”
Eliza lets out a relieved breath. “Good, whew. You scared me for a second.”
“Sorry ‘Liza,” Alex says, smiling apologetically. “See you around?” He turns to go, heading for the staircase.
“Wait,” Eliza says. Alex turns back, afraid she’d just remembered something about a break in. “You still owe me twenty dollars.”
“What?” Alexander asks.
“For the extra key I gave you. Twenty dollars, hand it over.” She sticks her hand out and makes a beckoning motion with her fingers. Alexander’s brow furrows.
“You never gave me a key,” he says. Eliza frowns.
“Yes I did, about...three weeks ago?” She flips a few pages in a book on her table. She points at an entry. “Yeah. Three weeks ago. Friday. A.H. Extra Key. Twenty dollars. Unpaid.” She looks back up at him.
“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t remember that,” Alexander says, growing more concerned.
“Are you trying to tell me I made an entry for something that never happened?” Eliza asks, eyebrows shooting up.
“No, no, I...I just don’t remember getting an extra key…” Alexander bites his lip, thinking. “Was I drunk at the time?”
Eliza pauses, looks back down at her register and says: “I sure hope you weren’t, not at 10:16 in the morning on a work day.” She frowns. “What were you doing here, at 10:16, asking for an extra key, on a work day?”
“You’re asking me?” Alexander says. “I don’t remember!”
“Well I wrote it down, so it must have happened!” Eliza says, though it’s more to herself. “I could check security,” she mutters. A second later she’s pulling out her laptop and motioning for Alexander to come behind the desk. She digs through files until she finds the video feed from the Friday morning in question. They fast forward until Alexander appears, at 10:10 in the morning. He’s in a beanie, hair tucked away, and a Lion King hoodie, but it’s Alexander alright.
Eliza comes out of the office, they talk (though the footage is silent so what about, Alexander doesn’t know), then Eliza disappears back into her office. The Alexander on the tape fidgets, glances up at the camera then quickly looks away. Eliza reappears, hands Alexander a bronze key, and Alexander heads up the stairs.
Eliza pauses the footage and looks at Alexander. “So?” she asks. Alex stares at the screen, desperately trying to remember the interaction he just saw himself have.
“I...I still don’t remember that,” he mutters. He looks at Eliza, and the fear must be evident on his face because she quickly puts an arm around him.
“Hey, hey now. I’m sure you just...forgot. You’ve got so much rattling around in that brain of yours the extra key must just...not have stuck!” She says. Alexander frowns and pulls his keyring out of his pocket. He quickly finds the little silver key for his apartment dangling on his keychain.
“I never even lost a key…” he says.
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If Alexander did indeed get an extra key, then it becomes the seventh thing he’s lost. He searches his apartment for an extra bronze key, but can’t find one. He looks everywhere, through his drawers again, through his coat pockets, even through every pair of pants he owns. Nothing, not even a hint of a key.
Frustration mounting, Alexander changes tracks. He starts looking for the hoodie he was wearing in the video, ignoring the little voice telling him that he doesn’t have a Lion King hoodie, that’s he’s never even seen Lion King live. Neither did he own any beanies. And he would never tuck his hair inside a hat, it gets itchy.
True to his suspicion, a search of his clothing revealed no Lion King hoodie, no grey beanie, and most certainly no key.
What the fuck?
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The eighth thing is Alexander’s trust in Thomas. He's searching his desk for the mysterious key- holding out hope that he's got it somehow- when Thomas comes in.
“Hamilton, about the infra…” Thomas trails, taking in the disarray of Alex’s office. “Are you okay?”
“I…” Alexander looks up at him, breathless from his frantic search. Thomas is looking at him in concern, but something in his posture sets Alexander on edge. “I had a break in at my apartment.”
Alexander watches Thomas’ eyes, sees the flash of emotion that's quickly buried under a mask of indifference. “Did they take anything?”
“A few things,” Alexander says, focusing on rifling through his desk. “A shirt, bottle of cologne. An old picture…” he stops, blinking, “of us, of all things.” Alexander looks up at Thomas. A year of dating is the only reason Alexander can see the fear buried in Thomas’ face.
“Odd,” Thomas says, his voice tight. He motions at the disarray. “What's this about?”
“I’m searching for my things here before I call the police or anything.”
“If you had a break-in, shouldn’t you call the police anyway?” Thomas asks. Alexander swallows.
“Well, I think I had a break in,” he says. “I’m not quite sure? It’s complicated.”
Thomas raises one eyebrow, questioning, but doesn’t say anything. The other man looks almost disinterested, playing with one of Alexander’s desk toys, but Alex can see the tension in his shoulders. Thomas coughs. “Well, there’s nothing in that rat hole apartment of yours worth stealing anyway, so I don’t know why you’re concerned.”
Alexander rolls his eyes. “Get out, Thomas. I’m busy.”
“I came to ask you about Burr’s infrastructure memo,” Thomas says.
“Already read it. It’s worthless, just moves some money around so it looks like something’s happening but it’s really not.” Alexander waves his hand dismissively. “If you want to debate it, fine. But later, alright?”
Something flashes in Thomas’ eyes again, but he’s gone before Alexander can really process what it was. He’s left confused, suspicious, though he can’t put a finger on why.
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He loses the ninth thing the next day at work.
Despite the breakup, Alexander had always felt that things had ended on pretty good terms with Thomas. Compared to how he had broken up with John, the end of his time with Thomas had been civilized. Amicable.
Which might sound like a stretch considering things had ended when Thomas had kicked Alexander out of their home, threw most of his shit out the window to the street, and screamed at him from said window until Alexander had picked all his stuff up and left.
But his relationship with John had ended with Alexander almost getting a face-full of a vase John threw, so breaking up with Thomas had been like a peaceful negotiation in comparison.
And it’s not like they weren’t civil now. Both of them kept their distance, interacting for work purposes and nothing else. Yes, it was awkward. It was tense. But Thomas had always been reasonable post-breakup, if cold.
Up until now, of course.
Three days after Alexander had torn his apartment and office apart, Thomas comes into Alexander’s office carrying a small cardboard box. Thomas drops it onto Alexander’s desk and clears his throat. He doesn’t make eye-contact as he says:
“I was cleaning the other day and found some of your shit.” Thomas shifts on his feet and lets go of the box.
“Thank you?” Alexander says, cautiously. Thomas nods and moves to leave, but hesitates.
“Did you ever figure out if you did have a break-in?” He asks, not looking at Alexander. Alex’s brows furrow.
“Yeah, I did. Someone broke into my apartment with-” he gets a flash of inspiration “-the key I keep in my office. I realized it was missing when I was turning everything inside out the other day. Someone must have taken it.”
Thomas nods mutely and hurries out of his office. Alexander watches him go, waits until the door is shut behind the man before he pulls the box into his lap and examines the contents.
On the top is a hairbrush and a notebook, which Alexander thumbs through briefly before returning to the box. There’s a half-used bottle of cologne and a faded Columbia tee shirt that starts to make Alexander suspicious. It’s not until he pulls the shirt out of the box and sees the photograph at the bottom of the box that Alexander inhales sharply, his stomach dropping. He looks at the shirt again, then quickly flips open the notebook and finds the notes from that meeting that he had needed.
It’s everything he’s lost in the past two weeks.
Alexander looks at the door Thomas had disappeared behind, unsure of what he’s to do now. Had Thomas stolen from him? How had he gotten into Alexander’s apartment? And if he had, why return it all? Why not keep it?
Standing in his office, turning the conversation over in his head, Alexander loses his doubts that Thomas didn’t do anything.
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The tenth thing and final thing is lost that afternoon, when Alexander follows Thomas from his office, intending to confront the man outside of work. The moment Thomas is out of the building, though, he’s on his phone and furiously texting. His eyes are glued to the screen as he walks through the parking garage.
Alexander tails him, drawing on old military experience to follow without being seen. He doesn’t want to scare Thomas off, but he does want to wait until they’re at Thomas’ place to confront him. Thomas growls, presses his phone to his ear and slides into his car. As Thomas’ car pulls out, Alexander dashes to his own car and follows.
Thomas drives through the city, taking a route Alexander knows doesn’t lead back to Thomas’ house. He drives some distance behind, keeping a few cars between him and Thomas at all times. As he drives, he considers the possibilities:
One: Thomas somehow managed to break into his apartment and take some things, only to return them later. Alexander himself had the extra key. Which didn’t make sense. Thomas may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them and handing Alexander a box of the things he stole is stupid.
Two: Someone else got the extra key, stole those things from Alexander and planted them in Thomas’ place. Even before Alexander finishes the thought he knows it’s dumb. There’s no possible reason for such a course of action. Besides, it doesn’t explain Thomas’ behavior.
Three: The theoretical someone else had been acting on Thomas’ request. That would explain Thomas’ behavior, but not why he returned all the things he'd had stolen.
Four: This is one giant ass coincidence and Alexander is paranoid. Which, if Alexander is crazy, would explain the extra key thing. He blacked out and just doesn’t remember doing that. Maybe he’s hallucinating everything and when he starts accusing Thomas of things all Thomas is going to do is put him in an institution.
While Alexander is trying to decide if option number four is the best or worst of the outcomes, Thomas takes a hard left into one of the poorer sections of the city. Confused, Alexander follows, hoping Thomas doesn’t pay much attention to who’s driving behind him.
Thomas pulls into a small apartment complex and parks in front of one of the buildings. Alexander chooses a building across the street and parks as well. Thomas steps out of his car and heads for the building. For a split second, Alexander debates whether or not he should follow, but jumps out of his car as the door swings shut behind Thomas.
Alexander dashes across the parking lot, opens the door as wide as he dares and slips inside. He just catches a glimpse of Thomas disappearing up a set of stairs and he waits until Thomas hits the next landing before he starts up after him. He trails Thomas up four flights of stairs before Thomas doesn’t head up another floor. Instead, he strides over to one of the apartments. Alexander waits below the floor line and peaks up just enough to watch Thomas fumble with a key and let himself in the door. The moment the door is shut, Alexander bounds the rest of the way up the stairs and presses his ear to the wood.
“...’re here!” Someone says. “You don’t usually come right after work, but you gave me enough time to prepare.” The voice is familiar, but Alexander cannot place it.
“What did you do?” Thomas asks, fear and anger in his voice.
“What do you mean?” The other one asks. It sounds masculine.
“You broke into his office?” Thomas says. Alexander stifles a gasp.
“No, what are-”
“Is that how you got that key? He told me someone stole his apartment key from his office and you refuse to explain how you got yours!”
Alexander’s eyes widen. Thomas is talking to whoever broke into my apartment, he thinks. He presses against the door harder, straining to hear better.
“Well I didn’t break into any office for it, I promise you that!”
“Cody-”
“I’m not Cody, I’m your Al-”
“No!” Thomas snaps. “No you’re not. You’re Cody and you’re very, very sick.”
“I’m not sick.”
“Yes you are, please,” Thomas’ voice gets soft. “You’re sick and you need to see a doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor, I only need you,” Cody purrs.
“You can’t have me until you let me help you.”
“You do help me, Thomas. You make me feel good, let me help you feel-”
There’s a sound of skin slapping skin, and Alexander winces. His heart is in his throat and pounding in his ears.
“No, we’re not doing this. Not while you’re...like this.”
“Like what, Thomas? How you want me? This is how you said you wanted me.”
“I never said that.”
“You said that I wasn’t him,” Cody spits the word like it’s a curse, “and I wouldn’t be good enough until I was. And now I am! I’m good enough now!”
“No, you’re very sick and you need help.”
“All I need is you!”
“You keep saying that but I’m the one who made you this way!” Thomas is screaming now. “Don’t you see? I fucked you up and now I’m trying to fix it.” There’s a pause, Alexander can hear the shuddering breath Thomas draws. When he speaks again, he sounds tired, all traces of anger gone from his voice. “Please,” he begs, “please just let me take you to a hospital.”
“No,” Cody says. “I won’t go. You can’t make me.”
“Then I’m leaving, Cody. I’m leaving and not coming back.”
“You keep saying that, but you always do,” Cody sang. “You’ll be back because you love me.” Thomas doesn’t respond, but Alexander hears his footsteps get closer to the door. Alexander panics, jumps away from the door and sprints as far up the stairs as he can before Thomas opens the door. He freezes, standing stock still, praying Thomas won’t look up.
With baited breath, Alexander watches Thomas get closer to the stair case. Just as Thomas gets down the first step, he stops and looks back at Cody’s door. There’s an incredible despair on Thomas’ face, one that almost drives Alexander to call out to him. Then Thomas just sighs and starts back down the stairs. He moves out of Alexander’s sight, but he hears Thomas’ footsteps get fainter and fainter. Alexander waits until he can barely hear the echoes on the staircase before moving again.
He slowly makes his way back down to Cody’s landing. Alexander stares at the closed door, one hand gripping the staircase railing tight. He could just leave, he knows. Pretend nothing happened, or maybe even go to Thomas now. But...he’s curious. He feels like he has to know the man behind that door.
So, feeling like he’s in a dream, Alexander walks up to Cody’s door. Steeling himself, he knocks slowly, rapping his knuckles as hard as he dares against the wood. He doesn’t wait long for a response.
“Thomas, baby?” Cody calls from inside the door. “Proving me right already?” The door swings open, and Alexander is completely unprepared for who appears.
Which is how Alexander loses his tenth thing: any level of understanding he had about the situation at hand, and the word at large.
The person at the door is himself.