Tango

We should go.

Thomas gave them time, he could see Alex was apprehensive about leaving, but it really felt like their only option. A few days later, Laurens was back, but he didn't ring the bell this time. Instead, he stood in front of the house and send Hamilton text messages, asking the other man to come outside or to come with him. The Caribbean didn't answer any of them, he showed them to Thomas, who in turn just turned the phone off. Unfortunately for them, it wasn't a one-time occurrence. The Carolinian began to show every day, sometimes when Alex was alone. Sometimes he was drunk, sometimes he wasn't. Afraid John might try something. Alexander locked the house and ran to the nursery upstairs, waiting for Thomas to get back. The one time Jefferson went out to confront him, Laurens taunted him.

"You know what Jefferson? I always hated you." He slurred. "I was supposed to be with Alex by Washington's side, I was the best employee before you showed up... and now you took away my best friend. The one I love. You took everything from me."

After five days of non-stop harassment, and a solid week of hypertension, Alex had had enough. The next time Laurens showed up, Hamilton did the unexpected. He walked out the front door into the street and confronted John, his voice loud and domineering, he told the other man off. Yelling at him with a rage Thomas hadn't seen in months. A rage he used to be at the receiving end of. It concerned him, to say the least, the Virginian pulled at his lover's arm to try and pull him back into the house, but he wouldn't budge. Alexander had finally snapped, his temper in full force. Only ceasing once he felt faint - lightheaded, he swooned, stopping his rampage.

"Darling?" The taller man held him, concerned. "Darling, come on. Alex, come back inside, let's lie down." He finally managed to drag the other man back as Laurens watched, his heart, split in two.

They headed inside, the younger man lying on the sofa, his feet propped up on the armrest, as Thomas got him some water. Alex rubbed at his eyes, his temples pounding in the beat of his heart. He pushed the offered glass away, feeling an odd tightness in his stomach.

"Oooo..." He exhaled, slowly, rubbing the tender skin, his eyes, closed.

"You okay?" His lover asked, worried.

"Yes, it's just cramps..."

"Cramps? Like, cramps, cramps or cramps, as in contractions?" The older man's voice was laced with a tinge of dread.

"Cramps, as in Braxton-whatever funny name, Hosack called them. I've been having them for about a week now."

Jefferson sighed, relieved it was just another, expected symptom and not the very beginnings of labor.

"Just about as long as Laurens has been stalking your ass. These are supposed to be on and off, not continuous for a week, Alex. She also said stress can heighten them." He rubbed his partner's forearm.

"You try and relax when you're about to have a baby that's not supposed to exist." The shorter man snarled.

"First of all, that's not what I meant. You have every right to be anxious, I'd be too if I were you. Second, you know damn well Laurens has been making you ill, you didn't have high blood pressure before he showed up."

"He won't come back."

The younger man challenged. He'd be genuinely surprised if he saw John at their door after today.

"Oh, I know... I still think we should go. I know it'll do you good. We could take a step back, and relax, I'm sure Doctor Hosack would agree with me. You need to wind down."

"Fine..." Alexander gave up. He knew Thomas was right, and in all fairness, it would do no harm to get away for a while.

***