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Even after Cody realizes the full extent of abuse he’s suffered, he doesn’t accept it at first. Which is a strange way to live, stuck knowing something is true yet denying that it is. It takes him the whole day after his session with Franklin to digest it all. The next day is spent huddled in on himself, trying to figure out why. Why it had happened, how it had happened. He goes through every memory of Thomas and tries to figure out when the point of no return was but he can’t find it. He can’t find the moment when Thomas went from a shitty boyfriend to an abusive one.
Meanwhile, Franklin decides that having sessions every other day was more productive than every day, so session twelve takes place the two weeks to the day of Cody’s hospitalization.
Because he’s Cody now, not Alex.
Most of the time, at least. It’s harder to remind himself to be Cody than it was to teach himself to be Alex.
“Are you sure?” Franklin asks. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Cody nods, feeling his hair scrape against the back of his neck.
“I need to see Alexander.”
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“Cody?” Alexander knocks at the door to Cody’s hospital room. He holds his breath, scared Cody had changed his mind about wanting to see Alexander. The Shucks stand off to the side, holding one another but staying away from the door.
Cody had asked them to leave in preparation for Alexander’s arrival.
The door opens, and immediately a flare of hope rises in Alexander’s chest. Cody is wearing one of his old show shirts. It hangs on him though, like Cody’s lost quite a bit of weight in the past two weeks. He certainly looks thinner, his face more gaunt than when Alexander had last seen him, when Cody had kicked him out.
“Hey,” he breathes.
“Hey,” Cody mumbles back. “Come on in.” He steps away from the door, standing aside for Alexander to enter. He sees Cody smile at his parents and then quietly shut the door. Alexander stands in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with himself as Cody pads back to the bed by the wall. He’s wearing Alexander’s green slippers, Alexander notices. Alex glances around the room. A few of Cody’s posters have made their way up onto the walls.
“How have you been?” Cody sits cross-legged on the bed, leaning against the wall. Alexander grabs the single chair in the room and pulls it closer to Cody.
“Fine, just fine.” Alexander bites his tongue, waiting for what he thinks is the next question: How’s Thomas?
But Cody nods. “That’s good,” he says. His voice sounds odd to Alexander, sounds different than he’s ever heard it. There’s a pause where neither is sure what to say.
“I don’t suppose it’s useful to ask how you’ve been?” Alexander asks. Cody smiles, a little breathy laugh escapes him, but still doesn’t reply. Alexander gets the sense that this conversation is going to be led by Cody and Cody alone. So he waits until Cody speaks.
“I wanted to… apologize,” Cody admits. Alexander blinks.
“For what?” He asks. Cody rubs his knees.
“For what I said to you last time.”
“Don’t apologize for that,” Alexander reassures. “You were drugged and upset and-”
“No, I...I should have listened to you.” Cody looks down at the floor. “You were right. About me, about Thomas, about… everything.”
Alexander can’t stop the sigh of relief that leaves his lips. “You don’t know how wonderful it is to hear you say that.”
“What? Say that you were right?” Cody teases.
“No, just that…” he trails. Both men know what he means without having to finish the sentence. In the silence that follows, Alexander looks around the room. The posters that Cody’s put up all bear his name in some fashion, though most of them are small. Side mentions, never top billing. Cody must read his mind somehow, because he says:
“There’s one with my name blazoned across the top really big.” He motions to a pile of rolled up posters in the corner. “I’m not...I’m not ready for that one yet though.”
“Your name?” Alexander asks, hopeful. Cody nods.
“Yeah. Cody Shuck.”
Alexander grins, and Cody sees it. He smiles back, sheepishly, but Alexander is overjoyed. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. Cody’s eyebrow shoots up.
“Okay, dad,” he drawls. Alexander snorts. Cody giggles a bit and for a second, Alexander forgets where they are, how they got here. When Cody laughs, Alexander realizes why his voice sounds odd: it’s Cody’s real voice, not him mimicking Alexander. The realization shocks Alexander, but happiness blooms in his chest a moment later.
There’s another beat of silence, Alexander can see the gears turning in Cody’s mind. The breaks in conversation are killing him, but if Cody needs them, Cody needs them. Eventually, Cody finds his courage.
“Can I ask you for a favor?” He asks. Alexander hesitates.
“What is it?”
“Could you…could you go get a pair of scissors and…” Cody gathers his long, blond hair in one hand. “I don’t want it anymore, but the nurses won’t let me have sharps yet. Hell, they won’t let me have pens.”
“I don’t think they’ll let me-”
“Sneak a pair. I don’t even want to keep them,” Cody begs. “You can take them back after it’s done, I promise.”
Alexander hesitates, but Cody is looking at him so pleadingly and he gives in. With a ‘hold on a moment,’ Alexander slips out of the hospital room and finds a nurses station a little ways away. The nurse at the counter falls for the ‘I’ve got work to do while my brother’s in therapy’ excuse and gives Alexander a pair of safety scissors.
“Sorry, sir, it’s all I’ve got,” she says as she hands them over. Alexander smiles.
“These are just fine, thanks.” Alexander pockets them and slides back into Cody’s room. Cody hasn’t moved, but he looks up with hope in his eyes when Alexander re-enters. Alexander holds the scissors up and Cody beams. His smile slips a second later as he asks:
“Will you do it?”
“You want me to cut your hair?” Alexander asks, disbelieving. Cody nods. “You know I’m a lawyer, not a barber, right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t care if it looks good. I just want it gone,” Cody insists. Alexander sighs.
“Scoot forward, then,” he instructs. Cody does as he asks, leaving Alexander more than enough room between the head of the bed and the wall. Alexander climbs up behind him and finds he has to stand on his knees to get a good angle on Cody’s head. He picks up a lock of it from the back and hold it in his hand for a second.
“Well? Get on with it,” Cody commands. Alex smiles, lifts the hair and slices the lock off quickly. He leaves an inch or two, but gathers the shorn strands in his hand. It’s probably not a good idea to leave hair just lying around for the nurses to deal with. Alexander tries to collect what he cuts, but he’s sure a few strands escape. He slowly starts to make his way through the right side of Cody’s head, trying his best to keep it all one length. The silence resumes, but now that he’s got something to focus on it doesn’t bother Alexander as much. For a while, the only sound is the scissors as Alexander works.
“It’s odd,” Cody remarks. Alexander hums a question, and Cody continues: “Part of me wants to ask how Thomas is, but the other part absolutely doesn’t want to know.”
Alexander pauses, fingers running through Cody’s scalp to collect a new lock. “That’s understandable,” he says, keeping his voice as level as possible. Cody sighs.
“I don’t want to be concerned about him, but…”
“It just makes you a good person,” Alexander remarks, slicing a lock a bit long but deciding it’s okay and moving on. Cody brings his knees up to his chest.
“You don’t understand,” he says. “I… I hate him.” Alexander fumbles the scissors, causing him to cut the next section a bit short. Cody grits his jaw and repeats: “I hate him, Alexander. I really, really do. But at the same time, I don’t… I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. It’s really weird. I hate him so much but I can’t...bring myself to wish him harm.”
“Cody-”
“It’s frustrating, Alex!” Cody admits. “Like, when I think of him I get this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and the thought of seeing him again makes me angry and I don’t want him within twenty feet of me ever again but… I don’t want him dead. I don’t want him suffering. Hell, I don’t want him to get a goddamned paper cut.” Cody starts to talk with his hands, and Alexander has to remind him to stay still.
“That’s honestly probably for the best,” Alexander mutters. Cody frowns.
“But… he deserves it.”
“Yeah he does,” Alexander agrees. The silence comes back as Alexander finally makes it to the last bits of Cody’s hair. With one last snip, Alexander pulls his hands away and admires his work. It’s not great. Everything is uneven and it looks like Cody had done it himself with a slightly-sharp stick. But it’s short. He drops pockets the scissors and runs his hand across Cody’s scalp. “All done. It looks like shit.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” Cody responds. Alexander can’t believe the amount of sass this kid has. It’s slight, but Alexander can feel it bubbling, the real Cody fighting to come out. Cody turns around and grins at him. For the first time since Alexander met him, Cody looks like his own person.
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“You wanted to see me sir?” Thomas asks, sliding into Washington’s office. It’s the Friday after Alexander had blown up at him, and the first time he’s been to work since. Thomas did have a bunch of vacation time stored up, but…
“Yes, Thomas. Sit.” Washington motions to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. Thomas quietly sits, folding his hands into his lap. Washington looks like he’s waiting for Thomas to speak, but Thomas stays silent. Eventually, Washington coughs. “It’s good to see you in the office again,” he begins. Thomas nods mutely. Washington just sighs.
“What’s wrong Jefferson?” He asks. Thomas looks at the desk.
“Nothing, sir,” he says. Washington clenches his jaw.
“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I understand.” Washington looks at him from over the desk, hands folded over some papers. “But the entire office is buzzing about you and Alexander, he isn’t talking, you don’t show up to work, and nothing is getting done. There are betting rings over who this ‘Cody’ character is. Now, I don’t want to pry into your private lives, and I know what Alexander did to you-” Thomas clenches his hands at this, “-but it’s starting to affect other people’s work performance. Out of my two best lawyers, one is having a breakdown and the other is a very pissed off Alexander. The firm is suffering and I can’t have that.”
“So that’s your ‘let me help you’ speech?” Thomas says through clenched teeth.
“Look, Thomas. You’re a very good friend, and I do want to help you out. But you need to let me know what’s going on first. Hell, even if you can give me a half-decent lie to get everyone to calm down, I’ll take it. Just give me something Jefferson.”
Thomas hesitates, thinking. He eyes the papers on Washington’s desk, listens to the grandfather clock tick behind him. Washington waits, and Thomas gets the feeling Washington is willing to wait as long as he needs to for Thomas to spill. That doesn’t stop Washington from prompting him with: “Alexander has asked to move to the other office. He says he doesn’t want to work anywhere near you anymore.”
Thomas stifles a gasp. It’s not surprising, but he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Alexander would move to get away from him. Thomas grits his jaw. “He’s not going to have to move,” he says.
“Do you wish to be transferred instead?” Washington asks, a bit bewildered. Thomas shakes his head.
“I’m resigning.”
Washington blinks, his face losing it’s usual cool to go wide, surprised. It’s the most emotion Thomas thinks he’s ever seen the man display towards Thomas. “Resigning?” He repeats. Thomas nods
“Consider this my two weeks.” Thomas stands. “And I’ll use the rest of my vacation time to spend those two weeks at home.” Washington stands from his chair, planting his hands on his desk.
“You can’t be serious,” he says.
“I am. Thank you so much for every opportunity I’ve ever gotten here, but it’s time for me to move on.” Thomas turns and heads for the door.
“Thomas, wait,” Washington commands, but Thomas doesn’t listen. He walks out of Washington’s office, cleans out his own desk, and leaves the firm for the last time. As he walks out the door, he feels like everyone is watching him despite the lobby being empty.
-------------
“Thomas Jefferson resigned last Friday.”
The news hits Alexander like a brick to the face. He stands, blinking in shock, in Washington’s office the Monday after Cody’s haircut.
“You weren’t here on Friday, but I thought you should hear it from me this morning,” Washington explains.
“Why?” Alexander demanded. “Did he say anything?” His mind is racing with possibilities. James. James will know. Oh god if something’s happened Cody’s going to be a mess.
Washington shakes his head. “I called him in here to talk about why he’s been off work and he just… resigned. He decided to quit instead of telling me what happened.”
Alexander takes a deep breath. “Has anyone talked to him since?”
“I don’t think so. Son what-”
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Alexander rushes out of Washington’s office and runs as fast as his suit lets him down the halls to James’ office. He doesn’t even bother knocking, he just throws open the door with a cry of “James!”
The shorter lawyer jumps and scowls. “Alexander. You gave me a heart attack. What if I had a client-”
“Shut up and call Thomas,” Alexander commands, hitting the top of James’ desk. James starts and looks up at him, suspicion rising to his face.
“Why?”
“Did you know he quit?”
“Quit? Quit what?”
“His job!” Alexander explains. “Call him right now.” James scrambles for his cell phone and presses a few buttons. He must have Thomas on speed dial. James puts it on speaker and there’s a tense moment as it rings. Every ring feels like another nail in Thomas’ coffin and Alexander starts to pace.
Oh god how am I going to tell Cody? If Thomas has gone and hurt himself-
“James?” Thomas’ bleary, electronic voice comes from the phone. Alexander starts to breathe again as James answers him.
“You quit your job.”
Thomas sighs. “James…”
“You quit your job and didn’t tell me? Thomas holy shit you scared the fuck out of me.”
“What’s there to be scared about? You took everything I could hurt myself with.”
“But I let you drive. Holy shit I let you drive. Why did I do that? I’m taking your keys, Thomas. No, go get Sally and give her your keys. Now.”
“Neighbor Sally?” Alexander asks.
“Who was that?” Thomas asks.
“No one, Thomas,” James says into the phone. He then looks up at Alexander. “Yeah. She agreed to watch him when he stayed home from work and I went in.”
“It’s someone, James,” Thomas intones. James sighs.
“Fine, it’s Alexander,” James admits. Thomas goes silent. “He told me to call you, by the way. He knew you quit before I did.”
“Didn’t want you to know,” Thomas mutters. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me.” He sounds absolutely pathetic and Alexander’s previous concern turns to anger.
“I do, Thomas. Please, go get Sally.”
“What’s the point?” Thomas practically moans. In a flash, Alexander runs to James’ desk and leans into the phone.
“Thomas Jefferson, you motherfucker, you are going to listen to James, get Sally, and give up your right to drive. And you are going to do it now. While you’re on the phone. Are you listening to me?” Alexander spits.
“Yeah,” Thomas replies, voice hoarse. There’s a beat of silence, then: “Why? Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” Alexander replies. “I couldn’t give less of a shit about you. But there’s a boy in the hospital who told me that he would rather not see you dead, which is strange to me but fuck it. If that’s how he feels, I’m going to make sure you fucking live.”
“...he said that?” Thomas whispers. “Cody actually said that?”
“Yeah. He did. Which makes him a better person than me,” Alexander admits. There’s a moment of silence, then the sound of fabric rustling and footsteps.
“Okay, I’m going,” Thomas says. Alexander leans away from the phone and listens as Thomas makes his way through some doors. There’s a muffled conversation with a woman, then Thomas is back. “Sally’s coming over.”
“Good,” James grunts. “Tell her thank you.” Thomas delivers James’ message, then says:
“I’m going back to bed now. Have a good day.” With that, Thomas hangs up. James and Alexander are left standing in silence. James rubs his eyes.
“Thank you for telling me,” he grumbles.
“Of course,” Alexander replies. He eyes the smaller man as he sits there with his face in his hands. “Are you okay?” He asks. James grunts.
“Out of everyone involved in this damn mess, I think I’m the best off, frankly,” he points out.
“That doesn’t mean you’re not hurting too,” Alexander counters. James sighs.
“No, no it doesn’t.” James pulls his hands away from his face and looks down at the paperwork on his desk. “I...Jesus,” he mutters. “He’s my best friend. I hate seeing him like this.”
“Has he told you-”
“More than I ever wanted to know.”
“Then you know he should feel awful,” Alexander claims. “He’s the guilty one here.”
“Yes,” James hisses. “But this isn’t guilt, Alexander. It’s self-pity. He feels bad for himself.”
Alexander scoffs. “Of course that’s what he feels. That man is incapable of thinking of anyone but himself.” James looks up and levels him with a glare.
“Of any man alive, I think you would know that’s not true,” he says. Alexander looks away from his gaze and fights down the flare of guilt in his chest.
“This is not the same Thomas I fell in love with.”
“It is the same Thomas that fell in love with you.”
Alexander storms out of James’ office and doesn’t look back.
-------------
“Are you sure, honey?” Theresa Shuck asks, one foot already in the taxi. She holds her son’s hands like a lifeline, squeezing as tight as she dares.
“Yes, ma,” Cody says, smiling as best he can.
“We’re more than happy to have you back home while you recover-”
“You’re going to be late for your flight, mom.”
“He’s right, dear,” Derek says from inside the taxi. “He’s made his choice. Come on.” Theresa sighs, lets go of her son and turns to Alexander.
“Take good care of him, Mr. Hamilton,” she warns. “I know half the Ohio State football team.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Shuck. He’s in good hands,” Alexander replies. This feels odd, like they’re sending Cody off to college or to summer camp, not letting him move in with a near stranger not long after a severe mental breakdown. But here they are, standing at the front of the hospital, Cody’s things packed into a single bag, ready to go to Alexander’s.
“I hope so,” Teresa replies. She gives Cody one last kiss on the cheek, one last longing look, and then she’s in the taxi and gone. When it disappears down the street, Cody lets out a breath.
“Sorry ‘bout her,” Cody mutters. Alexander rolls his eyes.
“She wants the best for you. Can you blame her for being anxious about leaving you with a strange, older man?”
“You’re not strange, you’re me,” Cody replies jokingly. Alexander hides the wince. If Cody wants to joke about it, he can. Doesn’t mean Alexander finds it funny.
“Come on, let’s get you back to the apartment.”
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Cody hesitates on the threshold of Alexander’s apartment, one hand planted on the door frame. Though Alexander has moved ahead of him, Cody is stuck here, just outside the door. Alexander is rambling again, something Cody is coming to get used to, but Cody isn’t listening. His feet are glued to the floor where he stands and he can’t get himself to cross the threshold.
“...dry ingredients are in the lower… are you okay?” Alexander asks. Cody blinks, his unfocused gaze settling on Alexander.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Cody says, though his feet still won't move.
“Cody?” Alexander comes back to the door. “Be honest with me.”
Cody swallows. “I’m… thinking about the last time I was here.”
“The last time?” Alexander questions, confusion on his face until there’s a flash of realization and his voice goes quiet. “When you broke in,” he clarifies. Cody nods, a lump of guilt in his throat. His mouth is working to form an apology, but Alexander grins and grabs him by the wrist.
“This time, you get a tour of the place,” he says, seemingly entirely unconcerned that Cody had once invaded this space before. Though Alexander pulls on his wrist, he doesn’t pull Cody off his feet and he waits for Cody to step through the door.
“I’m sorry,” Cody says. Alexander shrugs.
“It’s in the past. Don’t worry about it. Come on, let me show you around.”
Cody takes his first steps into Alexander’s apartment, but doesn’t leave the guilt behind.
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Cody sleeps on the couch, much to Alexander’s protest. But if there’s one thing Cody learned how to be when studying Alex it’s how to be stubborn, and he refuses to take the other man’s bed. It’s bad enough Alexander is giving up his office space to give Cody a bedroom. Until it’s ready, Cody is more than happy to take the lumpy thing and a few spare blankets.
That way, when he wakes up in the early mornings and forgets for awhile he’s not Alex anymore, it’s hard to recognize it under the usual ‘slept-on-a-couch’ grumpiness.
As the days pass, Cody realizes it’s a toss-up as to who he’ll wake up as: Alex or himself. Cody mornings are easy. On most ‘Alex’ mornings, all it takes is dragging himself to the mirror and staring at his reflection for long enough to shake it off. He keeps his hair short, going to an actual hair salon and getting Alexander’s butchering fixed up.
Sometimes though, ‘Alex’ is more stubborn. It’s one of those days, two weeks into his stay with Alexander, that the older man finds him sobbing on the bathroom floor and asking for Thomas. Alexander calls off work that day, helping Cody find himself again then holding Cody as the shame and guilt hits him hard.
Cody doesn't know why it’s so hard to let ‘Alex’ go. He haunts Cody, threatening to reappear at any time. Sometimes, Alexander has to tell Cody when he’s falling back into mimicking Alex’s voice. Once, Cody unthinkingly spent a whole hour looking for ‘his’ Columbia shirt, only to curl up into a small ball in the living room when he realized what he was doing.
Even once Cody gets his own bedroom, he takes to locking himself in at night so Alexander doesn’t see who opens his eyes in the morning.
As bad as the mornings are, the nights are often worse. Cody doesn’t get nightmares, he’d have to sleep longer than a few hours for that. Instead, he lies awake and replays memories: conversations, dates, every moment he ever spent with Thomas. He never gives up trying to find The Moment, though Franklin tells him that there likely is no Moment. It doesn’t stop him from trying.
It’s one of those nights, when Cody finishes going through the whole relationship for the fiftieth time, that he finally breaks. He tries to sob into his pillow, but Alexander hears it anyway. The older man runs into Cody’s bedroom and rubs his back until all that’s left is the hiccups Cody always seems to get after he cries like this.
“Nightmare?” Alexander asks. Cody shakes his head.
“I’m fine. Go back to bed,” he tells Alexander. It’s obvious from the way Alexander settles into his seat and starts to stroke Cody’s hair that he doesn’t believe him. To the man’s credit, he waits until Cody takes a shuddering breath and says: “It’s my fault.”
“What is?” Alexander asks.
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“You sound like Franklin, questioning me like this,” Cody deflects. Alexander hums and waits for Cody to keep talking. Cody sighs. “Just go to bed, Alexander. I’ll be fine.”
“After you explain what you mean by ‘everything being your fault.’”
Cody bites his lip, one of the habitual things that’s managed to return. “I approached Thomas. I invited him back to my place. I kept calling him. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t see what was happening. It’s all my fault.” Cody can feel that his body wants to cry again, but he’s out of tears. He clutches the pillow, doesn’t look up at Alexander.
“It’s not and you know that,” Alexander replies, voice soft.
“Yeah it is.”
“No it’s not. Cody, look at me.” Alexander waits until Cody turns his head and makes eye contact before he goes on: “Nothing you did made Thomas do what he did. There was nothing you could have done to change him or stopped it. What happened was not your fault.”
Cody nods, though he feels like he’s lying.
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Alexander walks past James’ office every day at work. He never goes in, never sticks his head in to see how he’s doing. Never asks about Thomas. He doesn’t want to know.