It's Quiet Uptown

Bonus Chapter Two: I Wrote My Way Out

Lin's POV

    Pippa handed me the letter, her beautiful but worried face lightening with hope. I sat there stupidly, lost in the pain lancing up my arms. She shook me again, insistently demanding that I sit up and read. I distantly realized she wanted me to read it, so unfolded it indifferently.

    If she thought it could solve the roaring grief tearing through my chest, then I'd humor her.

    I began to read but stiffened as soon as I saw the handwriting. 

    It was Groff's handwriting.

    "No. No," I said jerkily, shoving the letter back to her. "No more pain."

    For the first time in my life, I saw actual anger in her face. "Lin-Manuel! Read the fucking letter! It's important!"

    Even through the haze, I felt shocked. Phillipa Soo, aka the sweetest and most innocent woman alive, swearing? This must be extremely important.

    I shoved down my emotions and read the letter, already apprehensive. But the words within wiped away all feelings of pain. My hands tightened, loosened, and tightened so much I tore the paper. I didn't notice that I was crying until the saltiness blurred my vision and dripped onto the letter.

    Anger roared through me so suddenly my entire frame shook, but then the full sacrifice hit me - just how much Groff had done to protect us - and every drop of rage was shoved into a drawer to be dealt with later.

    I dropped the paper in shock. Pippa's face screwed up with tears and she rushed forward, encircling her arms around me as I cried.

    "Shh, shh, it's okay," she murmured, rocking me.

    Pippa had hung around me enough to know the songs that brought me back down to earth, that reminded me of learning piano and putting the words in my head to song for the first time. The thrill of it all. 

    Pippa started to hum, and out of force of habit, I sang along.

    "In the eye of a hurricane, there is quiet, for just a moment, a yellow sky. When I was seventeen a hurricane destroyed my town, I didn't drown, I couldn't seem to die."

    Pippa let out a shaky breath before joining in. "I wrote my way out. I wrote everything down far as I could see, I wrote my way out. I looked up and the town has its eyes on me."

    We both broke down and cried, the memories of Hamilton and what was currently happening hitting us hard.

    My mom returned from the bathroom and joined the group hug.

    When I had written those words so many years ago I never truly thought about the ramifications of those lyrics. Just how apt they were. I wished for nothing more than to sink down in my grief, but I couldn't. It would spit on Groff's sacrifice, of our son that I loved more than life. Of what I'd worked so hard for for so long.

    In that very second, I felt an unearthly presence brush my side. "Do it, love," it whispered. I smelled vanilla, a scent I hadn't smelled since my wife was lowered into the ground.

    "Vanessa?" I gasped.

    "Lin, you stand in a hurricane. Use it. Use your skills, your gifts, while you wait for the moment."

    And then she faded.

    I stood up so suddenly I banged my head with Pippa's. Though my head exploded with pain, I was a man on a mission, so ignored it and her pained cry. I lunged for the writing desk, desperate to put pen to paper.

    "What are you doing?" my mom exclaimed.

    "Writing my way out," I said feverishly.

    And I tore out my past ideas. The muse had struck, and I knew exactly what I needed to write. Words flowed out of my pen, capturing ideas and plot lines that caught my fancy. The hours ticked by as I filled up page after page of my notebook, but I couldn't tear away my attention. I had to write my way out.

    Finally, when my notebook was full, my mom and Pippa tore me away and took me to the hospital to have the wounds stitched.

    My mind had cleared completely, and as I sat in the doctor's office, Sebastian clutched in my lap, I typed out a text on the surprisingly still-active Hamilchat.

*  *  *  *

Hamilchat

linnamonroll: Guys, I have an urgent call. If any of you ever liked Jonathan Groff - or me - please, fly as quickly as you can to NYC. This is a matter of life and death, and I need you all.

*  *  *  *

    That done, I set down my phone and piled my affections on my son while I waited. I had to get sewn up while I waited for the reinforcements - and I was confident that everyone would at least try to come - before I could be reunited with Groff.

    "This is the eye of the hurricane, this is the only way to protect my legacy!" I whispered.