Tango

Thanks

The coming weeks were rough. As any parents would anticipate. Alex just hadn't realized how rough it would be. Aside from the classic lack of sleep, waking up every two hours during the night, and constant high-pitched cries of their child. The incision in his lower abdomen was turning out to be quite troublesome. Very quickly, it turned out. Once the trio had made it back and the couple settled in with their new baby. It became quite obvious that Alex wasn't gonna get much done without Thomas.

It was almost like the wound would hurt for every little move he made. Get out of bed? Roll off more like... Pick the baby up from the crib? Can't do it. Put her back? Nu-uh. Don't laugh too hard or it will hurt. Crying? Even worse.

The first two weeks were particularly unbearable, but even after six weeks. When the stitches came off and there was nothing there but an angry red line; It was still sensitive. Every time he tried to take care of Grace, Thomas had to come and do even just one small thing for him. It was driving him nuts! Not to mention all the times before that when he had to ask Thomas to help him clean the wound and change his dressing.

He had thought that once she'd been born he'd regain his independence, and here he was - unable to do the simplest of things. All that, while his hormones were leveling out. Neither of them could say they were having a good time really. Their only saving grace, in the form of Lafayette and Eliza respectively. Who would sometimes come by and lend a hand. The latter, most of the time, since she had more expertise in the matter.

And tonight was a particularly annoying night. For the doorbell wouldn't shut up. Tickled by many a small costumed hand that evening followed by the dissonant cheer of a trick or treat. Every now and again the ring of the bell would scare the poor girl, and cause her to cry frequently which would send [Alex particularly] into a frenzy.

Around half past ten, the street had died down and the baby had thankfully been sleeping for the better part of an hour when the bell rang once more. Before Thomas or Alexander could react, the bell rang again, this time waking Grace, as her cries could be heard in the home. Fuming, Hamilton opened the door to a group of five unruly teenagers who didn't even care to properly dress up in costume and were probably not completely sober.

"Trick or treat." Flatly said the one who seemed to be the de facto leader of the group.

Alex looked them over from head to toe, his eyes stopping on a baseball bat, in the hands of a blonde who was absent-mindedly blowing a bubble out of chewing gum. Most likely a prop from her half-assed Harley Quinn costume.

"Hey, didn't you hear me? I said trick or treat, fuck face." The teenager pushed.

In the blink of an eye, Alex grabbed the bat, despite the small sting in his lower abdomen. "FUCK OFF!" He snarled at them, bat in hand.

"Hah, or what?" The teenager mocked.

Without warning, Alex hit the boy in the upper arm, causing the group to scream and promptly scurry off their porch with cries of 'Psycho!', 'What the fuck is wrong with you?!' and 'Are you insane?!'.

"Alex? What the hell? You didn't have to do that." Jefferson took the bat from his lover's hands, managing to spot a glimpse of what the other had done, after tending to their daughter. The brunet didn't respond and simply drowned in his partner's embrace as small sniffles were muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

"Hey... look at me." He dropped the bat and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"I'm so fucking exhausted... Is this all it's ever gonna be?" Alex wiped the tears from his face.

"Whadda ya mean?" He exhaled, confused.

"I'm so tired."

"What? And you think I'm not?" Thomas still didn't understand. Of course, they were tired. They had an almost three-month-old to take care of.