"What'd I miss?" Hercules inquired, stretching in his position on the low sofa. Alexander and I had just made it back to Hugh's house, taking a while since we couldn't find the piece of paper with his address. Though, if Hercules had given it to me, and not Alexander, I wouldn't have kept it 'safe' in the bottom of my shoe, and then forgotten about it.
Honestly, that man is so odd.
"They wanted to know if you were the Hercules Mulligan." I answered with a sigh, dropping my bag next to the front door. Alexander came in behind me, shutting the door with a scoff.
"Yeah, as if there's any other." He put his pack on top of mine, dragging his body over to the sofa. He plopped face down next to Hercules, dramatically sighing.
"Poor Alexander." I cooed, taking a spot on the floor in front of him and taking his shoes off. "You hate walking, don't you, buddy?"
Alexander shook his head, flipping over after I had taken both his shoes off, and pouted at me. "John, I'm a grown man. I don't hate walking, I abhor it."
I giggled, nodding at his correction. I leaned back on my open palms, placing my feet on top of Alexander's swinging feet.
Hercules chuckled. "Wow, you two are certainly settling into life with each other, huh?"
Alex and I both blushed at his comment, aware of just how comfortable we were around each other. It was… difficult, to say the least, not to be touching Alexander in some way during our travel. Hercules said we needed to keep a low-profile, so just keep our heads down and 'don't act like the mushy couple you are, I need you to act as though you feel nothing.'
I hated it.
Not being able to hold his hand, or stand shoulder to shoulder so we could lean on each other. Not being able to just stop and stare, recounting the freckles mapped across his face. Not being able to say I love you when somebody looks at him and tells him he that no one will ever love someone that scruffy.
I, for one, love his scruffiness.
Alexander nudged my side, rousing me from my thoughts. He was sheepishly grinning at me, his deep chocolate eyes twinkling in the light of the lamp Hercules had placed on the table.
"How about we rest for tonight?" Hercules suggested, steadily standing from the sofa. "We'll search around the house tomorrow, I'm sure we're all too tired to do it tonight anyways."
"Sure." I nodded in agreement, standing as well and grabbing my bag from the door.
"How can I say no to sleep?" Alexander yawned, straightening up and heaving himself into a standing position. He started to shuffle across the small room, heading for the door frame.
"Oh, and John?" Hercules stopped in the doorway, pointing a finger at me and beckoning me closer. Alexander laughed and continued past Hercules.
"Oooh, looks like somebody's in trouble." Alexander mused, mockingly waving goodbye. I watched until he left my sight, walking down the hall and into one of the bedrooms. Hugh has a hell of a lot more rooms than a single baker should, but I guess it helped when revolutionaries had to make a pit stop.
A cough brought me back to the situation at hand.
"So… Am I in trouble?" I inquired with a slight smile, slowly putting my bag back down and turning towards Hercules. He softly chuckled, rubbing his jaw with his hand.
"John, I just, I don't know." He sighed, crossing his arms. He leaned his head back against the door way, tilting his head so he could look at me. "What if it was a bad idea coming here? Especially with Alexander, the man is non-stop, I swear. He'll bring more eyes to us than a goddamn unicorn wearing one of the Schuyler sisters' dresses."
"Hercules, take a breath." I amusedly ordered, stifling a giggle at his example. "Obviously, I've thought about all the ways Alex could get us in trouble here. For one, he could end up back-talking to some ass about how Hugh was a revolutionary informant, which could end several ways. Mostly with him dying, though."
He solemnly nodded, "Yeah, that's definitely a possibility."
"Hercules." I sobered, taking on a more serious tone. We stared into each other's eyes, nervously thinking of what might happen to our loud-mouthed Caribbean.
"I'm worried, John." He admitted after a few moments had passed, his eyes flicking down to the floorboards.
"Worried about Alexander… or Hugh?" I asked, questioningly tilting my head.
"About everything."
"Oh."
"Yeah." He lightly groaned, shaking his head. "I don't know, man. I just… What the hell was I thinking bringing my brother into this?"
"No, Hercules, don't blame yourself for his death." I gently chided. "He was your older brother, he knew what he was getting into when you asked him, okay?"
He shakily nodded, heavily sighing. "I know, it's just a really… shitty life, you know? I mean, I'm all for revolution and everything, but losing my brother… It wasn't in the cards."
I nodded at that; truer words have never been spoken. We wanted the freedom for all, not the graves for loved ones.
He glanced at me, as if to say something, but decided against it.
"You good now?" I lifted my lips in a slight smile, hoping to lighten the mood. "Because I've got a handsome Caribbean in need of some serious cuddling."
"Ugh, you two lovebirds disgust me." He chuckled, straightening up. "Get some sleep, no fooling around, kid."
"Alright, alright."
I let him leave before I head towards Alexander's and my shared room.
A warm light is emanating from the cracks around the slightly open door, putting my nerves from earlier at ease. I silently walk towards it, listening for Alexander's soft snoring, but hear nothing from the room. Except for… Oh, no.
A scratching sound.
Paper being crumpled.
Little grunts of frustration that can only mean one thing.
I pushed the door open, throwing my bag down next to the bed. "Alexander Whatever-your-middle-name-is Hamilton! What in god's name are you writing at this hour?!"
He gasped, jumping up from the small desk in the corner of the room. He grasped at the loose papers littering the desk top and shoved them into his open bag.
"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING!" He shouted, before flying across the room at record speed and flinging himself onto the bed. He hastily shoved himself under the covers and pulled them all the way to his chin before speaking again. "I'm just, uh… sleeping."
I raised an eyebrow in a way that Angelica would be proud of. "Sleeping? Sleeping, Alexander? Really?"
"Y…Yes."
"Uh-huh." I hummed, striding over to the desk that was now in complete disarray. I glanced around the surface for any hint as to what he was writing.
Nothing.
"So, um, how did the talk with Herc go?" Alexander coughed, extremely suspiciously in my opinion.
"It went." I shrugged. "He's kinda worried about the guys we talked to earlier, but nothing too major, Alex."
He nodded, shifting deeper into the bed. " And… how are you feeling? About everything."
"Not good. I know we need to figure out what the hell went down to get Hugh killed, but I very much want to go home. I just want freedom for everyone right now. That would be enough."
"I know, dear, but we'll get there. We just have to go through a few chapters of our lives, then we'll reach the freedom-filled end." He softly smiled at me and his eyes shined in the dream-like candle light, mimicking Eliza's favorite face to make.
"How about you?" I returned, smiling at his writing metaphor. He repeated my shrug.
"Fine, I guess. I miss Eliza and New York City, probably not as much as Hercules, but…" He trailed off, pushing the blankets down and sitting up in the bed. "What if there are more of those guys? Guys like Brian and whatever the other guys' names were, out to get Hercules and us? I'm not worried so much as… I don't know, scared. I have so much work to get done, John."
"Alexander…" I quietly said, tilting my head at him and stepping closer to the bed.
"What if the world never hears what I have to say? What if divorcing a Schuyler sister is my legacy? There's so much work to be done…" He continued, his hands gesturing wildly above the sheets as he spoke.
"Alexander." I said, a bit louder, though he ignored me.
"What if the war is never won? What if I die by some damn fool that shot me? What if that bullet is my legacy, remembered because I was assassinated while searching for a fellow revolutionary's murderer?" He rattled on, his eyes growing wider with every word.
"Alexander." I firmly said, sitting down on the side of the bed and reaching for his hand. I gently grabbed it, noticing how clammy his palms were. "Take a break."
"Am I throwing away my shot?" He mumbled, looking right into my eyes.
"No, Alex, you're helping a friend. That's what you do." I reassured, muttering sometimes in the back of my mind. Alexander wasn't, how do I say this… a friendly guy to most people. He's a short little ball of hatred most times. Passionate hatred, but hatred nonetheless.
He's silent, staring right through my eyes and straight on into my soul. His deep brown eyes pierce my lighter ones, searching for something, but I couldn't tell what.
"John?" He inquired after a moment's thought.
"Yes?"
"I was writing my will." He whispered, his dark eyes shooting down to our intertwined hands. He gripped harder, as if I would fly away if he didn't anchor me.
"What? Sweetheart, you're not going to die here. I won't let you die here." I promised, rubbing my thumb in circles on the top of his hand.
"You have no control who lives, or who dies, John." He argued, keeping his eyes on our hands. "Who'll tell my story, who'll tell yours or Hercules' if we die?"
"None of us are going to die, Alexander. I know, because we're trained and because these Irish bastards don't know what we're made of." I stated, fully confident in our fighting, and sleuthing, abilities.
His eyes lingered on our hands for another breath, then slowly roamed back to mine. We locked sights, silently telling each other I love you.
He steadily nodded his head, pulling me closer to him. We hugged, then parted so I could quickly change into my PJs and slide under the covers.
"Alright, alright, that's what I'm talking about." I breathed into his ear once we were settled. He was curled into my side, his face tucked into my neck. I had my left arm wrapped around his shoulders, nestling him flush against me. He giggled at my comment, placing his left hand on my chest. I lazily put my right hand on top of it, and lightly linked our fingers. I lowered my head just a bit, and planted a chaste kiss onto his forehead.
"I love you, John. Goodnight." Alex murmured.
"I love you, too, darling. Goodnight."
A/N: I AM SO SORRY! I DID NOT MEAN FOR MORE THAN A MONTH TO PASS BETWEEN THE LAST CHAPTER AND THIS, LIFE HAS JUST BEEN SUPER SUCKY AND MY MUM IS HAVING A TON OF HEALTH PROBLEMS AND MY BROTHER IS BEING A JERK AND I NEVER FELT LIKE WORKING ON MY FICS AND I APOLOGIZE. Please god forgive me, reader, I feel awful, but let me make it up to you with a one-shot of yoUR CHOICE! AHHH? HOW GOOD DOES THAT SOUND, HUH? (does enticing jazz hands)
But seriously, anything you want, I'll give it to you, that's how bad I feel about not updating when I said I would:(
(Also, pretty please review, I antagonized over this chapter for an entire hour, debating whether or not it was good enough, I need feedback, my dearest, reader)
thatwritermadeofpotatoes