The wine bottle slips from Jefferson's trembling hand, falling to the floor with a loud crack and shattering in a million pieces. The sound of the crystal breaking echoes through the silence, like a thunder in a quiet night. The shreds of glass are scattered around him.
Just like his heart.
Jefferson lets his body slip to the floor with a quiet thud. He sits there, watching the crystal fragments that surround him. The sunlight, pouring through the gaps between the curtains, reflects on the shreds, lighting up the dark kitchen. The wine is pouring from the broken bottle to the floor. It looks so much like blood.
It makes Jefferson nauseous.
He tries to stand, supporting his weight on his knees and arms. He feels so heavy, all his limbs are sore because of staying in the same position in the wooden floor of the kitchen for too long. Jefferson extends his arm, gently taking one of the crystalline fragments. The cold crystal slices his hand, but Jefferson ignores the pain and continues to pick up the sharp pieces, standing on his knees, as his blood mingles with the spilled wine.
He's drunk. In pain, grief and expensive alcohol. It is pathetic, isn't it? To mourn someone who is alive and breathing? But his mind and heart say otherwise. The throbbing pain is so real and present in his chest, he can't ignore it. He's physically and emptionally ill. He lost his lover, surely not to death, but to oblivion. He should have paid attention. It's his fault.
It's his fault that Alexander got in the car with him.
It's his fault that Alexander was lying in that hospital bead, with an induced coma because the pain was too much for his body to bear. He stayed there, unable to breathe for his own. Unable to open his eyes, to talk. To live.
It's his fault that Alexander lost his memory.
It's his fault that his lover is gone.
It's his fault.
His fault.
He tries to contain his pain, but a sob makes its way out of his throat, and he finds himself unable to stop the shrieking sobs that emerge from his core. And the tears, that were threatening to slip through his closed eye lids, are now falling like rivers across his cheeks.
He stares absently at the green walls of his kitchen, the soft color screaming Alexander, Alexander, Alexander. He brings his hands to his face, covering his eyes so he can't see the color of the walls. He tries to block everything around him, the sounds, the smells, his sight, everything. He tries really hard, but the taste of blood in his mouth never leaves. Everything is so clear around him.
He screams.
Jefferson feels the department door open and the sound of frantic steps. He can tell that the person who irrupted is looking desperately for something or, in this case, for someone. He doesn't process the sound of his name resonating through the apartment, but the loud gasp behind him is unmistakable. Thomas feels a pair of arms pulling him. He gives in, and tries to stand. Letting go of his phone. He didn't know that he was clutching the device. He turns the screen and sees Madison's ID. A finished call.
Thomas looks up and meets his best friend's worried face. The tender man embraces him silently, and Jefferson snuggles into James' chest. And lets the river flow.
"Look at that," Alex immediately recognizes the voice, turning to the door just in time to see Hercules opening the room's door with a smile plastered on his face, "the sleeping beauty decided to wake up! I wonder who gave you the kiss of True Love!"
Alexander laughs halfheartedly, immediately thinking of Jefferson. The memory of Jefferson's crying face is carved in his mind, and a pang of worry makes his way into his chest. He tries to brush off the feeling and smiles at his friend. However, Alex's smile wavers when he sees Lafayette crossing the threshold, a smile in his lips and a smiling Laurens trailing behind him with a duffel bag in his hands. Lafayette looks just like Thomas, except for his hairstyle. Lafayette pulls his hair on a pigtail, sometimes a man bun or a braid, while Jefferson lets his curly hair wild and –why does he even know this?
"Mon petit lion, ça va?" Alex's change of humor doesn't go unnoticed by Lafayette, who approaches his bed, looking worriedly at Hamilton, and takes his arm carefully. The Frenchman sits in the chair beside the bed –which wasn't there before, and Alex suspects that a nurse entered at some point without him noticing –with Hamilton's hand between his own. "You seem quite sad."
"Je vais bien." It's not true, but Hamilton is stupid enough to lie at his friends. "I'm just tired, there's nothing to worry about."
They know is a lie. He sees it in their faces. They know him perfectly. Lafayette sighs but smiles afterwards, letting the lie slide. Alexander is grateful, but feels bad about it. Still, he is too afraid of how they might react if he tells them about what happened yesterday, besides, Hamilton supposes that they are unaware of his…condition. Alexander is not ready to tell them, he can't even grasp his head around the fact that he can't remember anything about the past five years. And he's definitely not ready to see his friends' faces after the revelation. It was more than enough when Jefferson became aware of it –and they're not even friends, they hate each other.
"Alex, there's a lot to worry about," Lafayette smiles warmly at him. Hercules and John nod behind him. John leaves the duffel on the couch and gives a thumbs up to Lafayette, who doesn't notice because he's still looking at Alexander, "but we are here with you."
Hamilton smiles, and asks, "What is that?"
"Your change of clothes, mon ami."
"But, aren't I supposed to stay here until the end of the week?" Hamilton asks with amusement.
"Yeah, but like Mexican people say, 'más vale prevenir, que lamentar.'" John winks at him.
"Muchas gracias, guys." Alexander says warmly at them.
Laurens approaches the hospital bed excitedly, and Hamilton can see how badly his friend wants to hug him. Hamilton takes Laurens' arm and pulls him towards him, feeling warm and giddy. He snuggles John's neck and smiles, the other man embracing him with fervor.
When the guy lets him go, Hamilton looks carefully at his friends, taking in their presence. Alex notices that they seem older, and they look different from how he remembers them. Lafayette left his hair a little longer and he's taller, while Hercules is almost the same height he was five years ago his hair shorter and covered with a bandana. John's freckled face is even more freckled than before, and he grew up a fair pair of inches. Although, their smiles are the same.
Hercules leans on the wall and looks mischievously at him, "Did you saw Jefferson today?" at Alexander's affirmation he smiles widely. "That's great, Alex, Thomas was really worried for you, you know? He came every day to visit you."
"Oh, mon cher, always looking for you," Lafayette grins proudly. "Sometimes he even slept here, and still went to work the next day."
Alex is dumbfounded. Why would Jefferson come to visit him? Were they friends? Okay, that was just –just plain outrageous. He and Jefferson, as friends? Jefferson worrying over him?
"I'm actually surprised that he's not here," Laurens says, and takes a seat on the large –and ugly, Hamilton notices –couch.
"He, uh, he left in the morning. He said something about having to go to work." Alexander hesitates at first, but ends up lying for the second time that day.
Hercules also sits in the couch, taking place beside John, "Also, make sure to call your father. He's so worried about you."
"Yeah, it was really difficult to convince him to go to work today!" John groans. "Damn, he has a whole college to worry about. But still, he said he was passing by in the evening."
A whole college?
"Well," Lafayette says, a bit harsh, "maybe Principal Washington would be happier after seeing his son."
And okay. He didn't see that coming. Principal Washington? His father finally acquired that position? He probably felt so proud about his father the day he took his place as Principal in Kings College. But the sadness downs on him, and the awareness that he doesn't remember the day fills his heart, making it clench painfully.
"Yeah dude, Washington is worried sick about you," Lafayette says calmly, "after what happened with Martha." Lafayette sighs, looking absently. "It's been rough for him, seeing you in a hospital bed, unable to wake up…"
Hamilton swallows the knot in his throat. What happened to his mother? He turns to see Lafayette worriedly. Is she okay? She has to be okay. Maybe she's sick? She always gets sick around this time of the year. Because, well, is December, who doesn't get sick around this time of the year? Hamilton looks at the calendar hanging from the wall. July. It's the middle of July.
"What happened to Martha?" He asks, fear expanding through his veins.
His friends stare at him, their eyes wide open.
"Alex…," Lafayette speaks carefully to him, like a child who's about to reveal a secret. He looks at Alexander like he's seeing a boy, not a man. Like he might break at any second. "You…don't remember what happened?"
Shit. Oh, shit. No, no, no. He shakes his head slowly, and he can see the exact millisecond the implications of the affirmation he just made dawns on his friends. Their faces are a mix of surprise and sadness.
John stands up, and walks slowly towards him. Standing in front of his bed, Laurens looks at him with glazed eyes, "Alex, she –she passed away months ago."
Oh.
"Alex –"
Alexander is aware that the beeping of the monitor that calculates his heart rate going way too fast, "Don't worry, just –I just wasn't expecting it." He swallows, his throat aching painfully. The throbbing headache is back. "I think –I think I should rest."
Lafayette looks hurt at the sudden dismissal, but nods nonetheless. He kisses Alexander on the cheek and stands up from his seat. Hercules also follows and hugs Alex briefly. John just kisses him on the cheek, telling him that if he needs anything, they're just one call away.
And then, they leave the room silently, closing the door behind them.
Alex cries himself to sleep.
Once outside the room Lafayette's ringtone breaks the uncomfortable silence between the three friends. John is sitting on the floor, not a single tear on his face, while Hercules' is a crying mess. None of them expected it. Yes, maybe a few broken bones, a bruised rib, not this. Definitely not this.
Lafayette silently retrieves his phone from his pocket, closing his eyes he answers the call.
"Gilbert." Madison's agitated voice greets him. Lafayette is suddenly on alert.
"James, is everything okay?" Oh God, please have mercy on us.
"No, Thomas…"
No. Lafayette covers his mouth, "Mon Deiu, is he okay?! What happened?!"
Hercules and Laurens turn to him abruptly, their faces contortioned in worry. Their whole attention are centered on him, but his is on the man in the other side of the line.
"He is now," Madison sighs soundly on the other side of the line. Lafayette can hear the faint sound of his movements. He suspects Madison is cooking something, by the sound of the stove. "Today is a bad day."
"How bad?"
"I –I found him drunk, lying on the kitchen floor surrounded by broken pieces of glass." He hears Madison swallow, and the faint sound of a quiet sob. "He had cuts on his hands, he –he"
"Shh, it's okay James. Lafayette closes his eyes, in an attempt to ignore the image of Thomas forming in his mind. "Did he took his medicines?" He hears John suck in breath from his place on the floor.
"I don't know, Gil."
"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes."
"I'll wait here, then."
The Schuyler sisters come to visit him in the evening, already aware of Hamilton's state. Even though Alexander doesn't remember them, he is pleased with their visit. Elizabeth caught Alexander's attention. The girl seem really woeful, she has to leave the room for a few moments. And when she comes back inside, Alexander doesn't miss the red color of her eyes. Alexander feels so helpless.
The whole evening is spent in a really nice way. Alexander is the one making the questions, so he doesn't end up overwhelmed by all the information in one sit, and his friends are eager to answer. He was caught up on Peggy's constant jokes, Eliza's shyness, and Angelica's stories from when they met. The girls light up his day and he thanks every God that they didn't mention Jefferson in the whole evening, because, honestly, it is a matter he doesn't want to deal at the moment –or any moment, at all. Their presence last until late that night, leaving Alexander with a warm feeling.
Woah! Another 2k words! I actually feel proud of myself 3 I hope you liked it guys, gals and non-binary pals! I already have a schedule, the fic will update every Wendsday at night, maybe between seven and midnight. Tell me you opinions about the fic. Am I using too much dascription or it lacks? Is it too rushed or not?
I wanted to make Washington the President but I know shit about USA politics so I made him the Principal of Kings College, the College where Alexander studied. Also, Thomas is Lafayette's cousin, cuz why not? And, yes, the Washingtons are Alexander's adoptive parents.
Well, beans, this has been a hell of a ride! I'm exited about this fic! If you have an idea or headcanon for this story (or anything) please send it to me on my Tumblr i-party-like-it-is-1776! Fanart is welcome 3! Thank you for your support and love!
