A/N:For the sake of this story, let's just assume servants are beaten in the kitchen, if they are even beaten at all. Also, HOLY SHITE I didn't expect to get so many reviews and followers on the first day this was published! Thank you so much for the reviews guys!
Alex's jaw dropped open. He turned his wide-eyed gaze to John, who nodded to confirm it. Alex was now John's slave.
Why did this have to happen to me? he thought.
"John, why don't you see to Alex's beating?" Henry suggested to his son. "That could be your first task as his master." Alex cringed at the word. Master? John wasn't any older than he was, and somehow Alex landed himself a position that was below his own classmate.
Alex looked over at Rachel, who could only stand there uselessly, unable to help her son. Alex was on his own.
"Come now, Alexander," John said, walking to the parlor's door and motioning for Alex to follow, as if Alex was his own dog. The butler proceeded to drag Alex to the door. Alex threw him off with a glare.
"I can walk on my own, thanks," he snapped. The butler, unfazed, calmly walked on after Alex.
"I want him struck with the longest stick you have!" Mr. Williams shouted after them(do they beat servants with sticks?).
"Alex!" Rachel cried, hysterical now. Alex looked over his shoulder. His mom had grabbed Henry's sleeve, pulling on it desperately. "Please don't beat him! He's a good boy! It's my fault!"
Henry threw her off with brute force, and she fell onto the floor, tears streaming down her face. "Silence, or you'll be next," he warned. "If your son behaves, then hopefully this will be his last beating. Now get back to work!"
Alex bit the inside of his cheek and walked out of the parlor. His mother's whimpering faded as they got farther away.
John, Alex, and the butler stopped before an area Alex sometimes found himself working in: the kitchen.
"Marcus, find Rudy and tell her to give this boy twenty strikes. Tell her I sent him," John instructed. The butler nodded, and John left. Alex didn't even care that John had lowered the severity of his punishment. Either way, he was about to walk away with bruises.
The butler firmly nudged Alex through the entrance to the kitchen, where servants and cooks were busy preparing the next meal for the mansion's residents. They continued milling about when Alex and Marcus walked in, though some of them stole curious glances at the two of them.
"Rudy!" Marcus called. "We have a rogue servant who's here to receive a beating!" Alex stiffened when a burly woman with a sour-looking scowl appeared before them. She had on a white chef's uniform and a tall matching chef's hat.
"This kid?" Rudy asked in a hoarse voice, which had a Southern accent.
Marcus nodded. "Twenty strikes on his arms and back. Master John sent him."
Rudy's expression didn't change, though Alex could've sworn her shoulders relaxed at the mention of John's name. "Ah, I see. Very well." Her scowl landed on Alex. "Come along now."
Alex considered running out of the kitchen then. He figured if he was fast enough, he could run past Marcus and escape back to his room. Or even better, escape out of the mansion.
Rudy and Marcus must've read his mind, though, because when Alex stayed rooted to the floor, Rudy glared at him. "Don't waste my time," she warned. Marcus grabbed his arm and dragged him into a storage room at the back of the kitchen. It was relatively small, with shelves lining up the walls. Some shelves contained canned food, while others had cardboard boxes labeled God-knows-what.
Rudy pulled out a heavy-looking black box from under a shelf. Alex's heart started beating faster. This is it, he thought. This is where it gets me.
He remembered how the other children would torment Alexander and his brother whenever they went outside to get groceries or run some errand for their mother, or even just to play ball. He remembered how they would beat him up and take his money, calling him a bastard over an over. And if Alex or James tried to fight back, the children's parents would threaten to come to their house, and beat the boys themselves.
Rudy took something long and thin from out of the box. Alex tried to make a run for it, but Marcus blocked the door, which was shut. He had no choice but to give in and accept his punishment. Alex turned back to Rudy, who whacked the stick onto the box's open lid, making a cracking noise. When Alex flinched, she smirked, seeming amused. What could she possibly find funny about this?
"Take off your shirt," Rudy ordered. Alex did as he was told, sliding his T-shirt over his head, and giving it to Marcus, who came forward to take it from him. The man draped the shirt over his arm, like a waiter would with a towel. "Turn around," Rudy instructed. He turned around as slowly as he could, trying to delay the inevitable. "Don't worry, this'll be nice and quick."
Alex squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the sting to come. A moment later, he felt something come into contact with his back, but it wasn't the rod. It was actually… soft. The object was being brushed in a small circle on Alex's back. Alex whipped his head around to see what Rudy was doing to his back, and the woman gave him a frustrated glare.
"Can you please not move?" she hissed. "You're going to smudge the bruises." Smudge? Bruises? It was then that Alex saw that Rudy didn't have the long rod in her hand like before, but instead held a small makeup brush. The brush's bristles were powdered purple.
"What are you—" Alex was interrupted when Marcus picked up the thin rod, which had been laying abandoned on the floor, and smacked the black box with it again. Alex jumped, and Rudy smiled at him apologetically.
"Sorry if that scared ya," she said. "Gotta make it sound like you're getting the stick in here, if you know what I mean." Marcus continued cracking the rod across the top of the box, while Rudy went back to applying "bruises" to Alex's bare back.
After a few cracks of the rod and more dabbing of makeup, Alex calmed down enough to ask, "Why are you doing this?"
Rudy shrugged. "Those are our orders."
"But won't you get in trouble if John finds out you faked my beating?"
"Those are Master John's orders," Rudy said. For a moment, even Marcus stopped whipping the rod to see Alex's expression morph into one of shock. Rudy chuckled at Alex's speechlessness. "The master is kinder than you may think," she told him mysteriously.
"But… why would he…?" Alex couldn't find the right words to finish his question.
"A little thing you should know for future reference," Marcus said, surprising Alex, since he rarely heard the butler speak, "is that Master John never beats his servants."
Alex could only stare at them in awe, the pieces finally clicking together in his head. John had requested Alex to be his servant… so that he could save Alexander from being beaten. Alex felt the tiniest bit of relief, then caution. This sounded awfully similar to what had happened between his mother and Henry. By sparing Alex, John now expected Alex to owe him. Safety for labor. The guy has me trapped, Alex realized.
"Alright, turn back around now," Rudy barked at Alex. Marcus stopped hitting the box, then continued once Alex was facing Rudy. Rudy started painting purple splotches on Alex's arms. There was a makeup kit lying on the floor beside Rudy, which she opened whenever she wanted to switch to a different brush or color.
He doesn't want to be some noble savior.
Eleven darkly colored blobs dotting his arms, six on his left arm and five on his right.
He just wants another slave.
The bruises were now colored different shades of purple, black, and even a little red.
Why else would he help me?
"All done," Rudy declared. Marcus stopped his fake beating, and she put the makeup kit back into the black box. So that's where the kit came from. Alex examined his new "bruises," and winced. They looked so real, Alex was almost scared to touch them. Is this what my back looks like, too?
"Pretty neat, huh?" Rudy asked, clearly proud of her work.
"How did you make it look so real?"
Rudy snorted. "You'd be surprised with what you could do with makeup." She took the rod from Marcus and placed it back into the box.
"So… the rod is just for show?" Alex inquired.
"Oh, no, people do actually get the stick back here." Alex sucked in a sharp breath. "But it's rarer than you think," Rudy reassured him. "Usually it's only if some punk got caught stealing or, like, hit someone in the family." Marcus stepped forward and handed Alex back his shirt. "Alright, you're good to go. But could you also maybe act like you just got your ass beaten to a pulp? That would help us even more."
"Alright…" Alex hunched over slightly and cradled one of his arms.
"That's better," Rudy said. "Henry will definitely leave you alone once he sees you all crippled up like that." Alex stared at her. "What?"
"You called Mr. Laurens Henry."
Rudy smirked. "You actually scared of the guy? As long as he doesn't catch you calling him by his first name, he won't do no harm to ya."
"I'm not scared of him!" Alex cried indignantly, slipping his shirt back on. "It's just… you call him Henry and yet you call his son Master John. It doesn't really make sense."
Rudy's gaze softened. "Just because his dad's an asshole doesn't mean he's one too." They exited the storage room, and Alex heard Rudy whisper, "That's why we respect him for real."
On Alex's way back to his room, he passed Henry and his guests from before, including Mr. Williams. They narrowed their eyes at him, but when they saw the bruises on Alex's arms, and the way his back was hunched over, they relaxed. Mr. Williams smiled smugly and let out a satisfied grunt. Henry, however, stepped in his way.
"Where do you think you're going, Mr. Hamilton? Did John dismiss you so soon already?"
"Yes, sir," Alex lied. Last thing he needed was to tell Henry the truth and get a second beating.
"Hmph." Henry turned and started to walk away with his guests, unable to find another excuse to ruin Alex's day. Phew, close one. But then the man turned around. "Why don't you bring John some water? It's good to always stay hydrated. I was going to pour him a mug and bring it to him myself. But since you're here, why don't you do it for me?" His lips quirked up into a smile. "As his servant, you should be taking care of your master."
This son of a— "Yes, sir," Alex said through gritted teeth.
"Wonderful," Henry said, smiling. Alex heard the other men snickering at him as he walked in the opposite direction from his room. He entered the kitchen once more, where there was a water dispenser and a cupboard full of mugs. He saw Rudy, who was barking orders at her fellow cooks. Alex grabbed a random green mug and filled it with warm water. He placed it on a tray and carefully carried it out of the kitchen.
Now Alex had another problem: He didn't know where John's room was, or if John was even there at the moment. All he knew was that the Laurens family's bedrooms were located on the second floor. He never bothered to memorize who slept where.
Alex slowly walked up the stairs with the tray in his hands, so that he wouldn't spill any water on the way up. He spotted a young maid sweeping the floor in the hallway.
"Um, excuse me, Miss?" The maid looked up. "Do you happen to know where John Laurens' bedroom is?" The maid raised a quizzical eyebrow, and he quickly added, "This water's for him."
"His door is right here," she answered, gesturing to the wooden door she and Alex were standing in front of.
"Oh, thanks." The maid continued sweeping, while Alex knocked on the door.
"Come in!" John called from inside. Alex opened the door, where he found John playing some video game on his TV. The guy has an f-ing TV in his room. The freckled boy looked up, and grinned. "Oh, hey Alex!"
"Hey…"
"What brings you here?"
"Um, well…" Alex stared down at the mug of water he brought. "Your father told me to bring you some water, so… here."
John blinked. "Oh, thanks."
Alex looked around the room. "Where, exactly, should I put this?"
"Uh, you can put it down here." John patted the spot next to him. Alex walked over to where John was sitting with his controller. He crouched down and placed the tray on the floor next to John. Alex then just awkwardly stood there, watching John as he tapped the buttons on his controller.
After an awkward silence: "Um, aren't you going to dismiss me?"
John looked up from his video game, surprised. "You're not gonna stay?"
"Um, no?" What reason do I have to stay? "I just figured, you know, since I'm your servant, you have to, uh, dismiss me in order for me to, um, leave." His face flushed with embarrassment, and he internally cringed.
John laughed. "Lemme guess." He put on a mock stern face. "Etiquette and respect?" he imitated in a deep voice.
Alex couldn't help but laugh as well, but quickly restrained himself. "Um, yeah, something like that…"
John gave him a lopsided smile. "It's okay, you can laugh at my dad if you want. I do it all the time." He turned so that he was facing Alex. "You also don't need to 'serve' me. Like I said before, you can drop all that formal stuff when you're with me."
Alex stared at the floor. "Thanks for sticking up for me back there," he mumbled. He willed himself to make eye contact with John. "But… why did you help me?"
John shrugged. "I just wanted to help."
Alex stared at him. "That's it?"
"Well, yeah. What more could there possibly be?"
"You don't want anything in return?"
John raised his eyebrows. "Listen, I don't really care about all that 'I owe you this, I owe you that' crap. But what I do believe is that you shouldn't be punished for protecting someone you love."
Alex's eyes widened. "You knew?"
John nodded. "I may have just met you, Alexander, but I don't think you're the type of guy who would punch someone unless you had a good reason to."
Alex opened his mouth, then closed it. He focused on the fake bruises on his arms. "Did you actually order them to fake my beating?"
"I mean, that was the whole point." John grinned. "I can see Rudy did a pretty good job with them. You might wanna hide your bare arms for two weeks before showing them again. That's how long it usually takes for bruises to fully heal."
"Um, thanks." Alex took a step back toward the door. "I guess I'll be going now." He awkwardly waved at John. "Bye."
"Bye, Alex!" John smiled, waving back. Alexander closed the bedroom's door, and walked downstairs to his room. His mother was probably worried sick right now.
Alex was indeed correct. He found Rachel sitting at the base of her bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She looked up, and more tears trailed down her face when she saw Alex.
"Alex!" she cried, and wrapped him in a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you! It's all my fault!"
"Mom." Alex wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. I—"
"I'm sorry I couldn't give you a better childhood," Rachel interrupted. "I'm sorry you had to be born like this."
"Mom."
"I know how much you wanted to learn as a kid, but you couldn't go to school because of me." Rachel eyes were red and puffy. "I tried to get you into a school, any school, but they all told me they didn't teach bastards." Her hand brushed Alex's hair. "I'm so sorry, Alex."
"Mom." He rubbed her back soothingly. "It's okay."
"And you got treated like an animal because of me." She gingerly held Alex's arms. "I'm sorry I couldn't be a better mother to you."
"Mom!" Alex took Rachel's hands, and squeezed them. "These bruises aren't actually real." She looked up at him, registering what he said.
"What?"
Alex held his right arm up, and touched one of the purple splotches on it. "These bruises. They're fake, Mom. They didn't actually beat me."
Rachel started crying again, but it was out of relief this time. "Really?" she asked softly. Alex nodded. She wrapped him up in a hug again. "Oh, sweetheart." She paused for a moment, before adding, "I'm sorry about those other things, though." Alex fell silent. "I also know how much you hate this place, and I'm sorry for that, too."
"Mom, it's okay. Really. So what if I couldn't go to school back in Nevis? You still taught me everything I needed to learn at home." He turned Rachel's face so that they were looking directly at each other. He smiled at her. "I couldn't have asked for a better teacher. Besides, I'm going to school now, thanks to your decision to come here." He looked away for a moment, before returning his eyes to hers. "Sure, it sucks that I'm an illegitimate child, but I'm glad you brought me into this world." He squeezed her hands. "So please, Mom, don't blame yourself."
She smiled sadly at him, before nodding. "What did I ever do to deserve a son like you?" she whispered.
"Mom. I promise, someday we're getting out of here. We're going to live on our own, with no rich people bossing us around. We'll be independent. Sure, we won't be filthy rich, but we'll survive." She smiled at her son's determination. "Just you wait."
"I'll wait then."
A/N: For those of you who are asking, yes, this will be a muti-chapter fic. And Person, that's really cool, what you did! I'm also glad you enjoyed this!