Stay Alive --Hamilton Apocalypse AU--

.:6:.

Hamilton

Apparently, Hamilton's body was used to the apocalypse schedule because he didn't sleep for long. Of course, he also refused to go back to sleep in case someone tried to kill him.

Without any of his weapons left on him, though, Alexander was left to aimlessly pace the room that he was trapped in. He tried moving the door but whatever Washington had in front of it wasn't moving at all and, as promised, there weren't any windows in the room so he had no clue what time it was. 

He refused to sleep though. 

While it was true that his feet were still throbbing, he refused to let himself sleep any more without a guarantee that he'd wake up again. A couple times during the night, Washington would pound on the door, yelling at Hamilton to go to sleep. Still, he refused. 

He was practically jumping around the room to keep himself awake. A couple times he resorted to doing various exercises which, again, annoyed the other person in the house. 

It was funny, actually. He had spent so long missing the rest of the population. He'd spent weeks thinking about what he would do if he really was the last person on at least the continent. But now that he knew for a fact that there were others, now that he knew that he wasn't alone, he was doing everything he could to stay away from the other person. 

Alex sat himself down on the floor. He ripped the fitter sheet off the bed and started tearing at the elastic part. He only took as small of a portion as he could manage. As soon as he had one piece completely separated, he tied it together to make a hair tie. No matter how many stores he raided, he always forgot to grab them so his hair was always sticking to his neck from the humidity. 

Eventually, pacing and tearing up Washington's bed sheets became too tedious for Hamilton to deal with. Before completely stopping, Alexander made one more elastic band and rolled the sheet into a ball. He held the ball together with his makeshift elastic and relaxed on the bare bed. He never understood the necessity of sheet, a bed was still a bed with or without a cover. 

He tossed his sheet ball into the air and caught it again, testing it out to see how easily and comfortably he could toss and catch it. Deciding that it was the best he was going to get, he made a game of it. 

Before he knew it, Alex was waking up to the sound of scraping wood outside the door. He jumped up immediately, hating his body for falling asleep again in a foreign house with no protection against the stranger. 

"Rise and shine, Hamilton," Washington shouted through the door. He pounded on it a couple times for good measure. 

Alexander slowly made his way to the door and took even more time to open it. He glanced cautiously into the hallway, only leaving the room when he heard some food being poured into glass dishes. Allowing the curiosity to take over, he went to investigate in the kitchen. 

George was standing over two bowls sitting on the counter with a box of corn flakes sitting next to him. 

"Finally," he muttered, moving the bowls to the island counter. He slid one to Hamilton. "What took so long?" 

"The fact that I don't have to answer to you," Alexander muttered. He stared into the bowl and hesitantly picked up one piece of cereal. He stared at it intently before putting it in his mouth. Surprisingly, it wasn't all that stale, so he started shoveling the dry cereal into his mouth as quickly as he could.

"In my house, you do." 

"I didn't ask to stay here," Hamilton said with a mouthful of food.

"No, but you did break in. And you were going to die if you didn't," George reminded him. "Alexander, didn't your parents ever teach you table manners?" 

Alex could tell the comment was supposed to be harmless, just a reminder that he shouldn't talk with his mouth open, but coming from someone he'd just met, didn't trust, and didn't necessarily like? It didn't sit well with him. 

"No," he spat. "they actually didn't." 

"Okay," Washington said, taking a bite of his own food. Despite what he said to Alexander, he didn't wait to swallow his food before saying, "Where're you headed? Anywhere specific?"

Hamilton nodded immediately, despite not giving it much thought before. "Florida," he said effortlessly. "Or really any of the south-eastern coastal states."

"What's in the south-eastern coastal states?"

"Boats, probably. Aquatic transportation." 

The other man nodded and let the subject drop, apparently not wanting to push further. 

"What about you?" Alex asked, genuinely curious. 

"I was just going to stay here for as long as I could. No family 'round here, no family friends, and I've had this house since before you were born, son." 

"That's not gonna be a thing," Hamilton scoffed. 

"What?"

"The 'son' thing. It's not going to be a thing."

Washington shrugged. "Well, maybe I'll move. There's nothing overly special about this dump other than the sentimental value."

". . . Move where?"

"Florida sounds nice."

"No."

"You can't necessarily stop me," George reminded him. "And I'm not going to listen to you just because you're trying to brood. You can be angsty on your own time. Meanwhile, I want to get to Florida."

"And what do I get out of it?" 

"Extra protection on your way to the coastal states, more food, actual human companionship."

Hamilton thought about it for a minute. He went over every possible scenario that could go wrong with accepting the Travel Buddy invitation. All the negatives that came along with it were dangers that he'd face anyway, but the positives were enough to out rule them. Alexander had been practically going insane out in the world without anyone with him. 

"Fine, I'll deal with it," he muttered. "but the son thing has to go. And I want my things back."

George muttered an agreement, which Alex was almost certain ended with "son", and the two went back to eating their stale cereal.