Tango

Do something!

That next and last day at Monticello was filled with tension. Alex woke up feeling like shit. The previous night was still swirling around in his head - his sickness was showing no signs of slowing down. And to top it all off, he had a stomach ache that seemed to come out of nowhere, cramps in his guts that wouldn't let go.

"Are you ready to go?" Thomas asked once he had packed everything in the car.

All he got in response was a displeased hum. He hated seeing Alex uncomfortable that way. Being helpless in situations like these, was a horrible feeling. Wanting to help but not knowing how. Their ride back to New York was mostly spent in silence, with Alex sleeping most of the way it was better for him that way.

***

Something had happened between them; for the first time, a crux that couldn't just be talked out had begun to threaten their relationship. And from that point on, things were never the same. As the days passed, Alexander's sickness didn't leave - in fact, it seemed to get worse. He would be sick several times a day for no reason and suffer from abdominal pains regularly. As time passed and his symptoms seemed to get worse - Alex began to lose weight.

His already frail frame didn't help his condition. With the pounds leaving, so did his energy, lethargy setting in after weeks of violent sickness. The longer it went on, the worse he looked, his cheeks becoming hollow, his usual warm olive tone turning as a sickly green, and all Thomas could do was watch. Time and again, he tried to persuade his partner to get help, but he had promised he wouldn't push him, and that meant he wasn't going to take action here too. He feared if he would, Alex would never trust him, and if that happened, everything would be ruined. Their relationship was beginning to struggle, their stubbornness being their worst enemy. The days turned into weeks. New Years had come and gone, Three Kings' day - another week. Alex's birthday was spent alone in his dingy old apartment on his bathroom floor, sick. A Happy Birthday text the only contact with his lover, as he wouldn't risk outing himself.

Slowly but surely, Alexander tried to hide his sickness to the best he could - he would act like it had gone away and then secretly get sick in the bathroom. Trying to control it at important moments of the day was pure agony, resulting in them spending less time together. Gone were the days of hanging out at Thomas's house. The couple, only seeing each other at work. He couldn't do it anymore. He would've for sure had gotten sick there and would never hear the end of it - it wouldn't be addressed directly, but Hamilton could read between the lines. His friends had noticed too and wouldn't shut up about it; unfortunately, Alexander's stubborn nature didn't stop at his romantic relationships. The man was barely eating anything these days, with the stalest of foods being the only ones he wouldn't barf back up. Plain toast became the only normal thing he could look at without getting nauseous. He would lock his office doors, scared someone would organize a sudden intervention to get him help. Even though, in reality, no-one wanted to deal with a cranky Hamilton. His days were spent working, puking, and working. Once he would get back to his apartment, he would pass out exhausted and dehydrated.

***

"I just don't understand what happened. I'm there for him. And he pushes me away. I'm sure he's still sick; he just hides it. Have you seen him lately? He's skin and bones." Jefferson complained to his friend.

"Then why don't you just help him?" Madison sat opposite him, cleaning his glasses, as always.

"I can't." The remorse in his voice was unmistakable.

"I promised I wouldn't be obtrusive."

"Thomas, he's a threat to his own well-being. Surely there must be a way to help him. We may not be friends anymore, but I wouldn't wish him death."

The Virginian's head jerked up at the notion of his lover dying.

"Don't even dare suggest that, James." He stood up, getting more and more high-strung.

He paced the room back and forth, his mind preoccupied. He paced so much, you would've thought the floor would have a trail etched into it by now. Madison was about to make a suggestion when Thomas just opened the door and left, leaving his friend speechless in his empty office.

***

He may not be able to do anything, but there was someone that could. Frankly, it was a mystery how it hadn't happened yet.

"Get your ass in Alex's office and do something, now!" He barged into Lafayette's office.

The Frenchman was stunned by the sudden command.

"What?"

"You heard me. Go and get him help. Force him to a hospital, I don't know. Do something."

Jefferson was losing his mind.

"Pourquoi Moi? Why don't you do it? Besides, you know how stubborn Alex is. I already tried."

"I can't, I promised. I made a stupid promise." The words leaving his throat were strained with guilt.

The Marquis was astounded by what he saw.

"Oh, so what? Now it's my job to clean up your mess?"

"No! I just-" He was voiceless.

"This is me doing something about it. You understand? I can't do anything directly, so I am asking you. Please help him."

A voice crack crept in as if for added drama. The Frenchman could clearly see how helpless his long-time friend was, at absolute wit's end.

"Gilbert, Je t'en prie..."

That was it. Thomas would have never addressed him by one of his first names if it didn't mean everything to him. Not only that - he was begging in french. This was a new low for Thomas. The Marquis's heart clenched at the sight in front of him for the first time since he had learned of his colleague's relationship. Actually feeling some empathy towards his friend rather than - animosity. Lafayette left his office in the direction of Alexander's. And that was the last Thomas had heard of him that day.

It was the last he had heard of him for the rest of the week. Neither he nor Hamilton came to work, which stressed Thomas out even more. He left countless messages on Alex's voicemail, sent dozens of texts, but none were answered. Always left on read. He felt pathetic every time he looked at the chain of unanswered pleas for some kind of sign of life. After several long days in anticipation, finally. The taller man had spotted the Frenchman walking in the hallways. He called out after him. Nothing. Eager to learn at least some information about his lover's condition, he began to run after him. The other acting as if he didn't hear him at all. Just as Jefferson was about to stop him, Lafayette entered his office and locked the door. What? Thomas was confused, completely taken aback. What the hell is going on? Are they both just conspiring against him? Why was his friend avoiding him now? And why wasn't his partner willing to talk to him?