Healing (Whamjamilton)

It All Started At An Office Party

Five months later

Alexander Hamilton sat upright in bed and panted for breath. He quickly began sobbing and crying, hugging himself tightly and rocking back and forth. Everytime he had a nightmare about the harsh memory, it would crash down on him and make him have a near panic attack.

But, within a few minutes, he calmed down and rolled out of bed. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and shuffled over to the closer. Thomas Jefferson's closet. His lover's closet. He took a deep breath and pulled out one of his magenta sweaters and slipped it on.

Shuffling back over to the bed, he got under the covers and continued to sob. He hugged himself tightly, wishing that Thomas was home with him and holding him like this. But Thomas wasn't here now, and he wasn't going to be home for awhile.

The door creaked open and George Washington stepped in, shutting it behind him. He walked over to the bed and climbed onto it, laying next to Alex and holding his hand tightly in his own.

This wasn't the first time Alex had had a nightmare about the event five months ago, and it definitely wasn't the last. Alex opened his eyes and looked at George before sobbing and latching onto him like a koala to a tree. George sighed and rubbed his back, peppering his face with kisses.

Alex sobbed, "I get s-so scared, George.... So scared that..." He broke down in tears and George simply held him tighter, understanding completely. Alex wasn't the only one so scared that he was having nightmares.

George was just much better at concealing his emotions and fears way deep down in his heart. A tactic picked up from his old street crime days and eventually carried on to how he worked during business deals and conferences.

"I know, Alex, I know... It hurts, I understand... You're not the only one that's scared... But, he's dead." Alex gasped and George realized the harsh mistake in his wording. "CHARLES is dead. He can't hurt you, or me, or..." He trailed off and pulled the blankets oer them. Alex cried harder into his chest.

The door opened once again.

"So what did I miss?" Thomas Jefferson sang, a bright smile on his face.

He saw his dear Alexander crying and immediately took off his work jacket and shoes, going over to the dresser to put on something more comfortable.

Once he had on some drawstring sweatpants and a loose collar cut t-shirt, he climbed into bed with his two lovers and pulled Alex close to him. Alex turned over onto his other side so that he could see Thomas better.

He looked up into Thomas' bright, beautiful brown eyes and broke down in sobs once again. He hugged him tightly around the waist and Thomas winced. "Baby, m-my chest-" Alex let go and mumbled a rushed apology.

"It's okay," Thomas whispered, kissing Alex softly. George got up and left the room to get a movie from downstairs. It was a weekend off for them from there, and that meant cuddles, movies, dates, and (if Thomas is feeling up to moving that much) some other events. Like dancing.

Get your head out of the gutter.

Alex placed one hand on Thomas's upper chest and whispered, "Can I... Can I see the wounds again?" Thomas nodded with a smile and lifted up his shirt. Clear as day there was some gauze wrapped around his chest.

There were two x's in permanent black marker to mark where the wounds were exactly. Alex traced the X's, frowning at them. He hated the fact that Thomas had been hurt and that he didn't protect him. In his mind, it was his fault they all ended up at the abandoned warehouse anyway.

"I'm so sorry," Alex whispered, "This was all my fault... I have no right to cry about it..." Thomas shook his head and kissed Alexander's cheek.

"No, Alex. don't talk like that. You have every right in the entire world to cry. It was only five months ago, and I understand that you're still scared... I'm scared too... It's not your fault that I went to the abandoned warehouse."

"I yelled at you though! I kicked you out of the house and made you feel worthless!" Alex shouted, pulling at his own hair.

"I made you feel like garbage! So you thought HE was the only one that cared! It's my fault!" Thomas grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his hair.

He snapped, "Alexander I would have gone to the warehouse anyway a day later!" Alex went quiet and George froze in the doorway. Slowly, George set his coffee down and set the movie on the dresser. He got back in bed and sat up, looking at Thomas in confusion. Alex sat up as well and stared at Thomas.

"What do you mean, you would have gone there anyway you... do you not want to... to b-be with us?" Alex asked in horror, covering his mouth as tears formed in his eyes. Thomas shook his head and sat up, holding Alexander's hands.

George braced himself for what was about to come. It wasn't going to be good, they all knew this, but none of them were sure how bad the reaction was going to be.

"I made a deal with Charles about a week before the event... He said he was going to hurt you guys if I didn't go with him, and I didn't believe him. But he lied. He said he had hitmen, assassins or something like that, and would make it his life goal to kill all three of us if I didn't go with him. So, he gave me one last week to be with you guys before I left forever... It was a sacrifice that I knew I had to make..."

"Oh, Thomas," George whispered, caressing his cheek. Thomas realized he was crying and sighed, wiping his tears away.

"I care about you two more than I do my own health, and I will protect you two no matter what that takes." Alex sobbed and hugged Thomas again, a bit less of a death grip this time. Thomas hugged back and George crawled over to pull them both into a hug.

"Thomas..." George whispered, "I am going to ask as politely as possible that you never EVER sacrifice your own safety like that again or else I will tie you to the bed and make sure you never leave ever do you understand me?"

Thomas smiled and Alex laughed. He nodded and spoke, "Okay, I won't do it again. But I'm not making any promises." George smiled and kissed Thomas' cheek.

"I love you, Thomas," George whispered, kissing his cheek. Alex crawled a bit lower and pressed two kisses to Thomas's chest, one for each wound.

"I love you." He mumbled against Thomas's skin, trailing kisses up his chest. Thomas blushed and chuckled. "I love you guys so, so much... You two mean the world to me..."

Alex hugged Thomas and George hugged them both close to them. Thomas whispered, "He can't hurt us anymore... Never again..." Thomas looked at his dresser to see the transparent silhouette of the abusive murder.

Slight flames flickered here and there around his body as he stared at Thomas. There was a hole in his head, dark red and dripping with blood, no doubt the wound from George shooting him. He looked sad almost, longing to be held by Thomas. Longing to be in Alexander's place.

But he couldn't do anything in the state he was in. All he could do was haunt Thomas for the rest of his days until the day he died. He rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette, putting it up to his lips and inhaling the ghostly smoke.

Thomas snapped at him, "He can't hurt us anymore." The ghost smirked and floated out of the room, winking at Thomas as he went to the kitchen to drink all of their scotch.

George Washington pulled Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson closer, kissing their heads. Alexander blinked and looked up at George.

He requested, "Tell me a story so I can sleep... Don't tell me the story about red riding hood again, I want a new one." George thought for a moment before smiling and closing his eyes.

"It all started at an office party."