Hamilton/Washingdad One-shots

Living with Voices

HAAA- I've been gone for a while haven't I? Here's a little thing. I was having trouble writing my one-shot ideas, so I went back into requests I've made in other books, and this was one of them. I found it interesting, so I figured I'd do it. Hope you like it.

Hamilton sat at his desk, absently finishing up some documents he had to have completed. In true Hamilton fashion, these didn't have to be submitted until several weeks later, but that didn't stop him from doing them as early as he did. He always felt content with his way of doing things; he never had to stress about deadlines and all he had to do was give up a lot of his free time, which he was perfectly fine with.

'Why is having free time so bad?'

One of the voices questioned. He knew all too well that some were just listening to his thoughts rather than conversing with each other, typically he didn't have an issue with this, (He has grown quite used to it), but as of right now he didn't need someone questioning his lifestyle. "Well it's-" He attempted to answer before immediately being cut off another voice. 'He doesn't like feeling useless remember? Cause of trauma, I think.'

'No, it's 'cause he doesn't like having nothing to do! It forces him to confront his feelings!' Another piped up. 'I think it's a mix of them all honestly.' Said a fourth. The first now responded, grumbling their answer. "I knew we should've gone to therapy..."

Hamilton just sat there, completely dumbfounded. How could they just speak of his (admittedly deteriorating), mental state so casually? He knew they were a bit much at times, but that knowledge didn't stop Hamilton's response. "Are you guys for real? I'm not even distracted yet-"

'You should know by now that that's not gonna stop us." A voice said brushing him off. He ignored them. "Also, we don't go to therapy cause it's expensive and they're not gonna end up telling me something I don't already know." He shrugged, getting back to his document, even if conversation continued in his mind, and if he was apart of it didn't matter.

'But mental health is important!'

He could hear a lot of them agreeing to this point and was worried that he may actually be outnumbered with this one. Mainly due to him hearing a couple voices that he hasn't heard talk before and was worried that he even got the silent ones out of their holes.

"And?" He challenged, raising an eyebrow, typing much faster than he had previously been, determined to at least finish the next couple of pages before things escalated. Perhaps he should just go home, maybe then that'll satisfy them enough to stop trying to pressure him into getting therapy.

'What do you mean-' They had started, tone annoyed before getting cut off by the chanting of the others .At this point they were loud, so loud that Hamilton didn't have a choice but to listen to them. It was like hundreds of people screaming in his ears.

'JOHN!' They shouted, over and over. He heard some variations in there like 'John's coming!' or anything along those lines really. He didn't have any time to properly process it though. He could barely focus. Before he knew it, his hands were pressed against his ears and his eyes were tightly shut. His breathing became shaky, and he desperately tried to even it out... He was unsuccessful.

Moments later there was a knock on his door, and it swung open, revealing the one the voices had predicted. His eyes snapped up at the sound, vision slightly blurred before clearing itself out. "Hey, uh, Washington wants everyone out the building in like, ten minutes. Not sure why but I'm pretty sure he was serious. Even threatened to fire the lot of us that..." Laurnes trailed off, he hadn't exactly looked into the room before he had started talking, only now choosing to do so, and his eyes widened slightly.

"Are you... okay?" He questioned, seemingly not knowing what else to ask. Although the answer should've been obvious, Alex appreciated the concern. He knew how odd it was to walk in on your friend, on the verge of tears with his hands over his ears for seemingly no reason.

At this point the voices had calmed down and finally given him a chance to think, though that did nothing to calm the throbbing of his head. Despite this, he glanced back at John who was still in his doorway, letting out a deep breath. "You were saying?" Blatantly ignoring his question, he now stood upright and straightened out his clothes, not remembering getting up in the first place.

"Right, well. We were just leaving and we're planning on headed to the bar. Wanted to know if you wanted to join or not." He scanned the other with worry while he spoke, quietly adding, "You look like you could use a drink... or three."

Alexander thought about it for a moment, wondering if it was truly a good idea. "Eh, 'm not sure..."

He didn't even get the chance to finish considering things himself as the voices immediately started judging again. They just burst his eardrums; couldn't they give him a break?

'Is this bitch for real?'

'One of the more attractive guys that works here is inviting you for a drink and you're thinking about saying no?'

'And before you mention there being a group as well- Look at the wording!"

'Technically he never said 'I' or 'we' though...'

'But! We've known John long enough to know that if he doesn't specify a 'we' or say 'we' in this regard then it means he made the decision himself!'

After that there was just a bunch of noises of agreement; (Which he found weird because alcohol has proven to have negative effects on them), and Alexander had officially tuned them out after that. Regardless he still thought about it himself, still not sure what to choose. He glanced over at the brunette, who was now leaning against his door frame a smile playing at his lips.

"What?" Alex questioned, confused because what on earth was this guy, (Who just so happened to be his best friend), who was basically in his office smiling at? The male in question shook his head, "Nothing, it's just-" He cut himself off, tilting his head a bit to the side. "I think you should come. Who knows, you might end up having fun."

"Might." He repeated, pointing out the word he deemed as the most important. John only shrugged at this, pushing himself off the doorframe, taking a couple steps into the room. He watched as the other began stuffing relatively important things into his coat pocket and raised an eyebrow.

Hamilton glanced back at them, having everything that was deemed important enough. He could always come back for the rest. "Well? Are we going or not?" John, although relatively surprised at this, didn't say anything and instead wondered how much time they two had spent talking. "Yes, of course. We should be leaving now anyway. Although I am unsure if Washington's threat was genuine or not, I do not wish to find out." He said, already ushering Alex out his office, now speed walking down the halls.

"What was his threat again? I don't think I heard that bit-" The two turned the corner and John silently cursed Alex's room being rather far from the exit. Upon hearing the other he glanced at him, his eyes quickly going back to the front, explaining as fast as possible. "In short, he said that anyone found here after hours would get fired. I doubt he would fire you, but he can sure as hell fire me."

Alex didn't say anything as the continued their way through the seemingly complicated halls.

After a few minutes, the two had finally made it out the building and silently cheered to themselves. Waiting outside were all the employees that were waiting for the two. Alex was sure he didn't know half of their names but didn't question it. He did however, recognise Hercules and Lafayette, who were making their way towards the two.

"What took you both so long?" Laf complained, Hec only agreeing with him. "It's Alex, what do you expect?" John 'explained'. Which Alex didn't actually see as an explanation but elected not to say anything about it. Mostly because the voices were being incredibly annoying complaining about it, and he wondered if he had ever gotten to that level. If he thinks about it, yeah, he probably has.

On the way to the bar, he made a mental note to talk to Burr the next day; maybe he could get the number for the other's therapist.    

Okay so- I'm done, I'm done. I wrote this in one night, so that's something.  Finally got this finished, that's... nice.