AND ONWARDS. For those still reading.
---Alex's POV---
"I'm right here."
John opened his eyes, wiping them clumsily with his shirt, and I caught sight of several nasty bruises on his torso. After what I just heard, I wasn't in the least bit surprised.
"Thank you." he gasped breathlessly, staring into space.
I squeezed his shoulder and took his hand. "Of course. Are you okay?" I'm fine, I figured he would say, as always. Brush off, act indifferent.
But he dropped his eyes to the soft carpet and then to his hands that had tightly clasped on my own as though letting go would kill him.
"No." he answered finally in a watery, broken voice.
I nodded, not gazing at anything, really, and responded with a soft half smile. "I didn't think so." John puffed out a breath that I perceived to be a small laugh. "You just squeeze my hand when you want to get up, okay?" A singular nod. "You want to sit on the couch?" Another. "Alright. Your call."
John sniffed, his eyelashes wet with tears, and after a few moments he squeezed my hand. Wordlessly, I helped him up and we sat on the soft cushions of the sofa.
"You probably want to know where that came from," John croaked finally, his voice raspy from crying and yelling.
From the scene I had just witnessed, I realized this was a significantly new, fresh, or reopened wound. Much more vulnerable and stinging than I'd originally perceived. "Only if you're alright telling me," I decided.
John stared at the glassy TV screen as I waited, his sniffles punctuating the silence. Slowly, he shook his head. "You should know." he declared, as if trying to persuade himself more than me. I squeezed his hand- I hadn't let it go- and waited patiently until he was ready to tell me.
He took a deep breath and began. "So I have a really conservative father- hates anybody liberal. Racist. Doesn't believe in environmental justice." I nodded. That must've been why they could afford so many cars and still hadn't gotten an electric one.
"Believes in the normal gender roles: women cook and clean, men are strong and order them around. That's pretty much how our family works." Yikes. Sure, I'd heard of people like that, but back on the island-
Shit, I'd been so good at staying away from my past. When I was a child it was every person for themselves, genders aside. Women who only cooked or cleaned were left in the dust, as were men who only ordered the women around.
My mother, for one-
"And?" I inquired hastily, hoping to get my mind away from the topic.
John took another shaky breath. "And... and homophobic." My heart rate increased dramatically. His tone signified a more important connection to the word... could it be...?
"Are... pardon me for asking if I happen upon forbidden ground, but-"
"I'm gay."
It was as though John had picked up a ball and dropped it casually, watched as it blew up the room because it was actually a bomb, and popped my heart.
My mind was reeling, my heart in shock. I was positive my eyes were on the verge of popping out of my head- then I noticed: no, not casually, because he was beginning to slowly curl his knees up into a ball like he had when he presumably assumed I was his father.
He was afraid of my reaction? I was still speechless in overwhelming- everything- feelings, thoughts- it was just so much.
For once, words failed me.
So I didn't speak, instead, I hugged him tight, my arms around his shoulders where I was considerably positive there would be the least number of bruises. I rested my chin on his shoulder and hoped he wouldn't feel my heart racing through my shirt as he lay his forehead gratefully on my shoulder.
I mean, he most likely felt it, though, because I swear we were pressed chest to chest.
He was an ocean, I was a marine biologist. He's just gifted me with the invention of the submarine. As I listened, he showed me the wonders and dangers beneath the rippling surface.
He told me how he knew, he told me the story of how he came out. That was when the beating started. When the pride dried up like a river that fed into his ocean and his gayness came down like a dam.
His eyes went to the framed picture as he told me about how hard his mother fought to protect him. "Hufflepuff," he told me with a proud smile.
I didn't have the heart to remind him that Slytherin was better. "She sounds strong," I told him instead, "Like mine."
John's eyes went to my face and I pulled in my legs. "Your mother?"
No. No, thanks. "Nevermind," I dismissed him, "continue?"
Though skeptical, John did. He got this job to run away from him home life. Somehow his mother had a connection to the orphanage. John didn't know why. He was able to come, though, and way called back because of his brother. Also gay. Also beaten.
My blood was boiling, but the surface didn't show the bubbles. This was John's moment, not mine to ruin with indignation. When he finished, we hugged each other for a long time. Finally John murmured, "Your mother?"
That broke the spell. Gently, I unwrapped my arms from him and gave him a melted smile. "It's late." I replied simply. "We should sleep."
His beautiful green eyes were a forest of green, I could see a crow in it's midst, calling a warning. Something's wrong! It told the forest. The rest of the forest didn't know what was wrong, though, only something was.
I had no intention on enlightening them. Wordlessly, I turned and preset my alarm before going back into the safety of my sheets.
It was as though the last week had been the eye of the hurricane, the quiet. Or, no, not- I searched frantically for another metaphor. Now I was no longer in the center.
And for the first time since John came disspell them, the nightmares were back.
My mother's eyes flashed with pan and my stomach felt as if I'd been thrown off a cliff and was now suspended in the air.
Then my heart became heavy enough to drag me down, deep into the depths of the frothing, angry green.
My mother was sick.
Again.
Just in case you're confused: yes his mother's dead. That's a recurring nightmare where his mother's sick. I thought it might be confusing... Publishing the Kevin and Benny Father/Son fic starting December 1st!
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Orphanage AU: Lams
FanficAlexander Hamilton was adopted into an orphanage when he was younger and now, 20 years old, works there. John Laurens was raised in a homophobic household and signs up for a stay-away job as a teacher at an orphanage... in New York. Both from unha...
