In Sickness And In Health (Jeffmads): a Hamilton fanfiction

Chapter 1

Jefferson's p.o.v

Imagine a paper cut. Not one of those namby-pamby ones just on the back of your hand, but one of the bitchy ones in that space between two fingers. You're squirming just thinking about it, aren't you? Yeah, well, multiply that by about 10 billion and you've got how my leg felt that night. This is exactly why you don't rush out of the house and forget your flashy cane and your phone, people!

The wall was my new crutch, and I was flattened against it, dragging my tired body along with its help. My leg was a few inches behind me, angrily informing me that it did not appreciate all the unaided movement. Looking up in desperation, I felt tears trickle down my cheeks from the pain. I had to get somewhere, I frankly didn't care as long as it was relatively warm and the people who lived there could get Mads for me.

Looking to the right, I realised that I was on Hamilton's street, and I could see his house by the dim light of the streetlamp. Limping forward with a groan, I lurched dangerously to the door, knocking frantically as my face flattened against it.

Eliza answered the door in her nightgown, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. I felt guilty for a moment, but a particularly vicious bout of pain struck my leg and I cried out before I could stop myself.

"Mr Jefferson?" she said, shocked. "Why are you here?"

"Phone," I gasped as I slowly slid down the doorframe. "Please."

"You better come inside," she replied, slipping my arm over her shoulder and helping me to the plush couch. "I'm going to get Alexander."

I lay there, breathing in little gasps as pure agony radiated from my ankle all the way up to my hip, I heard Eliza arguing with Hamilton upstairs.

"But he's hurt, Alexander!"

"I don't care! It's Jefferson, for fuck's sake!"

"Language."

"Sorry."

"Just go and take one look at him and get back to me," she finished angrily, and I felt a wave of affection for her. Footsteps made their way down the stairs, and Alexander's head poked round the doorway, his face irritated. As soon as he clapped eyes on me in my sorry state, face stained with tears and my hand clamped on my jean-clad leg, he didn't look so annoyed.

"Jefferson? What happened?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. I heard no malice in his tone.

"You need to go and get Madison," I breathed as loud as I could, my voice hoarse with pain.

"Give me his number, I'll call him."

"No," I replied harshly, breathing ragged. "Doesn't have a car. You'll have to pick him up or phone a cab or something."

"Where does he live?"

"31 Mercer..." I managed to tell him before I was cut off by my own howl of pain. Alexander looked spooked and scuttled out of the front door; soon, I heard the car start up and shoot off.

Unable to contain the pained groans, I gave Eliza a begging look, but all she could do was sadly shake her head at me. I understood what she meant: no pain meds in the house.