Tango

Thomas... What's going on?

The morning after hit them both hard. Alex physically, dealing with cramps, bleeding, and the odd feeling that something was there not even 24 hours ago. While Thomas was burdened to shoulder the emotional grief. Hiding it behind his perfect businessman facade.

"Alexander will stay home for a few days, recovering from surgery. So if you could, please. Take care of Grace as you would when we're both not here. It's best if you don't disturb him."

Thomas warned their babysitter calmly. Anxious about the onslaught of questions he was going to receive at work. The last thing they needed was for the office to find out. Which didn't stop Gilbert or even Madison from sharing their concern and offering to help with anything Alex might need during his week off work.

Alex this, Alex that.

The lie quickly grew tiresome as Thomas thought of the life lost every time someone asked how Alexander was doing. Each day was the same. Check on Alex in the morning. Make sure Grace was happy and healthy. Go to work alone. Answer half-truths about Alex's well-being. Come home to take care of Grace while Alex stayed by himself in the bedroom. Until nighttime arrived, and there was nothing left but to get ready to do it all over again the next day. The whole week at the house was quiet, veiled by a heavy shroud of grief. Grief for life. Grief for hope. Hope for the what-ifs and every daydream they had crafted in the last thirteen weeks. The loss of potential futures and ideals that were doomed to never see the light of day.

Any attempt at touch with Alex was met with rejection. The physical pain, ebbing away by the end of the week, but the mental image, as vivid as it was the day of. Little Grace couldn't understand why suddenly her Papa didn't want to play or even look her way. The atmosphere in the home wasn't tense as much as it was hollow. It took him fifteen days to finally actively play with Grace. The little girl was ecstatic to finally play with her Papa again.

After that first week, they were both back to work. Both, lying through their teeth because nobody knew about the small life that would never grow. So what was the point...? It was almost as if things went back to baseline. But every little lie weighed heavier than the last.

Until the day before Thanksgiving, Lafayette sat across from Thomas. Coffee in hand, talking his ear off with some story about a rude client of Hercules', and the audacity of it all. In all honesty, Jefferson couldn't care less. He sat in his chair, numb. Gilbert was too invested in his tale to notice Thomas had stopped giving him vague noises of acknowledgment a long time ago. It had been three weeks since their baby was gone, but it didn't hurt any less. In fact, at times it seemed like it hurt even more.

With the holidays approaching, Thomas couldn't help his daydreams. Visions of him and Alex preparing the house with Grace helping them, living a peaceful life as they prepare to welcome another miracle into the world. He could see it all. He could see the little bundle wrapped tightly in Alexander's arms, just born. He could see Gracie perched over a bassinet, watching a silent baby sleep. He pictured his two children playing together, laughing...

"Thomas, is everything okay?" Lafayette was suddenly concerned as he watched fat tears fall from Thomas' cheeks onto his baby blue collar.

"I'm sorry, I spaced out for a sec. You were saying?" He tried to dismiss with a smile, not having noticed that his face wasn't dry.

"Thomas, you're crying. What's going on?" Lafayette had now completely forgotten about his ramblings, fully focusing on his friend.

"Oh, was I?" He brushed two fingers along his cheek to see that they were indeed wet with salty tears. He wiped each eye dry. "Sorry. It's nothing-" He tried to play it off, his voice breaking — but the hurt was too strong, forcing another wave of tears down his now hot cheeks. His breathing quickened as he felt his throat tighten. His face grew hotter as tears bloomed in his eyes, blurring his vision. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster to speak before turning his chair to face the wall. One hand covering his eyes as he quietly sobbed, embarrassed by his display. The room was quiet, and once Thomas heard the door, he thought Gilbert had left him to cry all alone. But to his surprise, it was Madison who'd entered. Right away, he came over and crouched by Thomas' chair.

"Hey, what's going on, Thomas? Lafayette texted, saying something was wrong." He vaguely motioned to the Frenchman who was still there.

Thomas couldn't look at him. He couldn't look either of them in the eye. James calmly rubbed Jefferson's forearm, patiently waiting for an answer.

"My baby..." Thomas finally spoke.

"Did something happen to Grace, Thomas?"

He shook his head 'no'. Resting a shaky hand on his closed eyes as he sniffled.

"Alex miscarried."

He finally revealed to the shock of his friends.

"Oh mon dieu. Thomas. When did this happen? Is Alex alright?" Gilbert piped up.

"November fourth." It felt like it was yesterday.

"God..." Was all Madison could say as he put the pieces together, pulling Jefferson into a hug. He held the man close, feeling his shaking sobs. But Thomas hugged back. Holding onto James like a lifeline, keeping him afloat.

Finally, a human connection. A compassionate voice. Somehow, in the chaos of it all. For once, Thomas felt lighter. Almost as if sharing the truth with someone allowed them to help shoulder his grief.

A stark contrast to the distant and cold demeanor Alexander had recently adopted at home. While Jefferson seemed to dig deeper into his sorrows, Hamilton quickly moved on. Acting like nothing had ever happened. The cover story Thomas had crafted became his new truth. When Thomas had realised how Alex chose to ignore what had happened to them. It felt like a dagger to the heart. Hamilton was ready to forget their second child just like that...