Broken- And Fixed Again- (A Jamilton Fanfic)

Chapter 10: The Ballad of John, Lafayette, and Hercules

//TW: swearing, mentions of sex, brief allusion to homophobia, transphobia, and racism, self-hatred\\

If you get the reference in the title then I love you but also cringe

John

"You are literally the most annoying person I have ever met," Lafayette said, scrolling through his phone, his arm resting over my neck as I lay sprawled in his lap. As uncomfortable as it may have been, I was happy. Just as long as I got to lay near him and inhale the scent of his cologne, to feel the soft vibrations of his voice through my chest as I stared up at him, I was happy and there was nothing else in this world that could take that away. Not even his barbed words leaving little pulses of unwelcome electricity, not even the tiny glares that he shot me every now and again.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Thank you! I try my best, you know."

"Maybe you should go bother Alexander for a bit," he returned, glancing up from his phone only briefly to shoot me a withering look. But the smile that lay hiding behind his forced toughness almost poked through, like sunbeams fighting off a massive army of clouds. I liked to see him smile.

"Alexander's going through a tough time right now," Hercules returned, not once looking up from the thing he was sewing as he spoke. Determination stole over his gaze, his brow furrowed in the utmost concentration. "Maybe we should just leave him alone."

"He doesn't need to be alone," Lafayette returned, harsh enough to make Hercules wince lightly as he always did when somebody raised their voice at him. "He doesn't need to...stew in his thoughts and become worse than he already is."

Hercules's eyes drifted back down to whatever new thing he was working on, his shoulders slumped. Lafayette opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, and glanced down at his phone. And so we left the thing so obviously hanging over all of our heads unspoken, the forbidden secrets we couldn't acknowledge lest we find something we don't like, buried deep underneath the layers.

Alexander should be here, with us. He should be slumped on the chair next to Hercules, writing his little heart out in ways I could never understand. The others should be here too, laughing and joking and pretending like nothing could ever go wrong. We should be together, even through sadness, for that is how we thrive. Not scattered, lost to our own devices. We should all be together in this one room, just like we always should have been.

And Thomas.

Thomas should be perched right next to Alexander, watching him in that way he always does when he thinks he has hidden behind the tendrils of ivy and crumbled walls of cobblestone, when he thinks he has hidden from the world. But it's so clear, how he views Alexander. The way he smiles for him and laughs for him, like nobody else exists. The way that for each other, there is no brighter warmth or softer respite. They have each other, and that's all they'll ever need.

They should be happy, sitting so close there's hardly any space between them, whispering things not meant for anybody else to hear. It's unfair, how clearly I can picture it.

And it's unfair how much it still hurts, even after all this time.

I glanced up at Lafayette, then over at Hercules, then at the ceiling above as I thought out what to say next, just to disband the silence that has fallen on us as we grieve the things that don't need grieving; they need action. It always hurt to see Alexander upset, but these two?