We'll be back - Hamilton Oneshots

Marquis De Lafayette: "Speak, Mute!" 🌧

There once was a boy named Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. Once a man, a man with great friends, great life, great responsibilities. Once who sold his food for money to help save the homeless. Once who paid to save the runaways of the town, those who suffered at home now suffered together in foster homes that he cared for often. Once who got all A's in his college classes, top of the class in each one.

Once.

Once who lived in harmony, crumbled in defeat all in one night.

The night was gloomy, though Lafayette only saw the street lights guiding him back to his home where his best friend, Hercules, lay sick on the couch. He gathered a bag of delicious foods and herbs that would hopefully make his friend feel better. The bag swung aside Lafayette's arm, feet bouncing and skipping happily. Once, there was happiness. Now, it had faded into the alleyway.

Beat after beat, punch after punch. His bag had dropped, cans and glasses of assorted items broke and shattered, spilling out onto the concrete. Alongside the liquid ingredients mixed red. Red blood. Blood from Lafayette's face. His wounds gushed and bled, pain and madness surging through his body as the stranger, darkened by the jet black scene beat his body, weakening him for his next move.

Lafayette's body collapsed. With that collapse, gave the stranger an opportunity that once every man and woman should always turn down. But he took it. He took it, because he couldn't leave the man bleeding on the ground without making sure he would never be seen again. His clothes were ripped off. Lafayette's clothes were ripped off. Lafayette's screaming had been muffled by his hand, body bleeding profusely as the man used him for all he was worth. And to that man, he was nothing.

Lafayette didn't make it home that night.

He had been found passed out cold in the alley that morning by the police, blood all over his exposed, naked body. Wounds covered his poor body, pale and freezing to death in the cold France day. Hercules had managed to stand up and call the police once Lafayette hadn't gotten home in the morning.

That night changed Lafayette's life.

————-

"I said speak, mute!"

"Just do it! Open your mouth and make a word come out!"

"It's not that hard!"

Lafayette, tears streaming down his flushed face, gripped the toilet seat in attempts to keep his head from being forced down into it. The three men holding him down were much stronger and larger than Lafayette's weak body. He used to exercise, but after that night, he found no need to. Even with the strength, he couldn't defend himself. So why even try?

"Just fucking speak!" One of the men yelled, forcing Lafayette's head into the water. He grabbed his hair and yanked back up, snarling in his face. Lafayette didn't budge. He couldn't. He may slip and start screaming at the men.

Lafayette was yanked away from the toilet, and out of the crowded stall. His back was slammed against the wall, arms pinned, one pinning one arm, the other pinning the second one. The main man, known to be called Charles Lee, landed punch after punch into the french boy's gut, listening to him choke and sputter blood. The other two men, James Madison and Thomas Jefferson, occasionally landed a punch to his face, his nose and lip beginning to bleed.

"This wouldn't be so difficult if you would just speak."

"Pathetic little boy. Too scared to say a word."

Lafayette listened to degradations, slurs, screaming and yelling for too long now. The punches had stopped hurting. His body grew numb. He felt as if he even tried to speak, his lip would go numb and force all of his words back down his throat.

"I'm done."

All three men lifted their heads, keeping their body's completely still as they pinned the man or held arms mindlessly in the air ready to swing another punch towards him.

"Did he just-"

"He did. Now shut up." Charles snarled, looking back at Lafayette.

Lafayette slowly lifted his head, glaring at all three of the men. He was finished with their bullshit now.

"I am sick and tired of all the shit everyone puts me through just because I refuse to speak. You joke that I'm mute because I want to be, I'm mute because I like to be. Well guess what? I'm mute because I have to be." He paused, taking a deep breath and shoving his arms away from his attackers. "I was raped a couple of months ago. He beat me, ripped off my clothes and raped me. For what? Nothing. Here I was that night, walking home to make my friend some soup because he was sick, next thing I know some strangers making half of my body bleed. He told me that if I ever spoke of him in vain, he'd come back to finish me off. I woke up in the hospital with my friend by my side, tissues up his nose because I couldn't make him better fast enough."

The whole world felt like it was silent. Not even the sound of the pipes flushing and draining in the walls made noise. All eyes were on Lafayette.

"And I am fucking tired of you all asking 'Why don't you speak?' Or 'What if someone says they love you? What do you do?' It fucking enrages every bone in my fucking body! I hate you all! Everyone who fucking bothers me like this! You all! I hate all of you! You're absolutely nothing to me! And I hope this makes you feel oh so amazing about yourselves, because after this is fucking over, its back to being mute for me. Because I'm scared of what people will do to me if I say one thing wrong to them." He said, storming out of the bathroom.

And that's exactly what Lafayette did.

{Word Count: 1,002}