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

Chapter 7

Chapter 7! Quick disclaimer: the medical stuff may not be accurate, I only did a quick bit of research on splenectomy. I was doing some quick research on Jefferson and Madison to make sure this fic is as accurate as possible on their lives, and I essentially gathered that Madison was all of Jefferson's self-control. Like, Jefferson literally said "I like a little rebellion now and then" and Madison's just like "For God's sake, Thomas, have some sense" (I think he was, anyway)! Okay, response to reviews! Please remember to R&R!

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Jefferson's p.o.v

4 days later, disaster struck.

I'd been released after decorating the cast, and made migrated to Mads' room, not really moving since. It was... Monday? I think, when I went to take my morning pills, which I had been taking religiously since the Hamilton incident, and the bottle was empty.

I shook the bottle, terrified. What was I going to do? I didn't need a repeat of that again, no-sir-e! Cracking the door of the ensuite bathroom open a little, I checked that Mads was still asleep, and snuck out to the pharmacy, closing the door silently behind me. Walking down, thoughts of my feelings towards Madison consumed me and I trembled a little, groaning as I saw the long, snaking line that ran all the way into the corridor. Joining the back, I almost wished my cane had one of those weird seat things on it, so I could sit down, because it looked as if I was going to be here for almost an hour. I decided to text Mads, so when he woke up he would know where I had gone.

TJeffs: Sup. Down at the food court, might be a while cos the line's horrible. Want anything?

His response was quite fast.

Mads: Iced tea, if ur still w8ing after an hour, come back

I prayed for my leg's sake the line wouldn't take more than an hour. It wasn't like I was addicted or anything, my doctor had me on pills that weren't too easy to get addicted to, but it bloody hurt if I didn't take them. I could just about manage without them, but I didn't want to. It'd hurt.

Someone in front of me, a kind yet tired-looking dad with 3 kids hanging off of his arms, saw my cane and my pained expression, and took pity on my, letting me cut in front of him in the line.

"Are you sure?" I squeaked as he ushered me forward at least 10 people, who all glared at me in annoyance. He simply nodded and my faith in humanity was restored. At least, until I got to the front desk.

"What do you mean you can't refill it?" I demanded, leaning over the counter. "I'm pretty sure my medical records are on the internet, have a quick look and get the bottle filled!"

"We can't refill prescriptions without a signed note from your normal doctor," the pharmacist sneered at me. "We find it helps weed out drug seekers, Mr Jefferson."

"Oh, so you think I'm a drug seeker, now, huh?" I yelled, my voice having now at least tripled in volume as I turned to the small crowd. "Who here thinks I'm a drug seeker?"

No-one raised their hand. They knew me: I was high up in the government, appeared on TV rather a lot against my will and kept my private life pretty un-private.

"Sorry, it's hospital policy," the pharmacist said, looking uncomfortable now. "Unless you have a prescription, we can't do a refill."

"Fine!" I snapped, finally having had enough. "But expect repercussions."

I stalked off to the food court, remembering that James had asked for an iced tea. That worried me, to be completely honest: he only asked for iced tea when he was getting sick. Luckily the line wasn't too bad, and I was soon walking back with smouldering anger surrounding me and a cold ice tea in my hand.

"I got you tea," I whispered, resigning myself back to the uncomfortable chairs from the depths of hell.

"You know I seriously don't care if you go back to the apartment," Madison said, taking a sip, but I shook my head fiercely.

"You get released tomorrow, I can manage one more night."

Even my voice was trembling as I talked to him. Oh, yeah, I hadn't told him. Lafayette was constantly bugging me over email to ask him out, and had even gone so far as to threaten to come to America to set us up. I had discovered about the extent of Mads' injuries after hijacking a doctor in the hallway.

"Feel okay? Do you need any extra pain meds?" I fretted.

"I'm fine," he replied. "The IV comes out tonight, then antibiotics for a couple of years. We'll have to clean out the apartment 'cause I'm more prone to infections."

"You mean more prone than you already are?"

"Yeah."

We laughed together, but we stopped short when someone very French-sounding cleared their throat at the open door.

"Lafayette?" I said disbelievingly, and as I turned my head to see, I indeed saw the tall Frenchman grinning at me.

"Mes amis! [My friends!]" he cried, throwing his arms around the two of us in turn.

"Laf, why are you here?" I asked, pretending to be confused.

"When you told me James was 'urt, I wanted to make sure he was okay," he replied, winking at me. James was looking back and forth between us in a bizarre fashion.

"Are you two related or something?" he inquired quizzically.

"Cousins," we replied simultaneously, used to the question.

"It's been a while, James," Laf said, smiling broadly as he hugged him. "Thomas, would you mind if me and James could talk alone for a few minutes?"

Confused and slightly scared, I nodded and stepped outside the door, hoping Laf wouldn't let anything too important slide.

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Chapter 8 coming soon, and I promise they get together soon!