*Me realizing I should do trigger warnings but is too lazy to go back and revise.* Don't worry, I will fix it later on. There is cussing in this chapter. Enjoy.
I'm sorry. (No I'm not)
TW: Cussing, torture, metions of rape
Alexander Hamilton had been missing for two days.
Two. Days.
Two days without Alex signing activity, ranting about one thing or another.
Two days without the scent of Alex cooking one if his mother's favorites.
Two fucking days without Alex's sweet, bell like laugh, his messy brown- almost black hair, his violet blue eyes; the tiniest amount of brown in them, his sun kissed, Caribbean skin.
Two days without Alexander.
And Thomas could feel himself breaking. His heart- breaking. His soul, his mind, everything! Just so fucking broken.
He didn't miss the numbed pain either. The small, almost nonexistent shocks. The way his sides or stomach would have a distant, aching pain. One that was just there.
He didn't missed the way the colors flashed sometimes. The sign that Alex was dying or seriously hurt. He noticed the petrifying fear that coursed through Alex's body, sending the emotions to him and John. He noticed everything.
And he was breaking. He wasn't sure how much he could take. He wasn't sure how much John could take, and he was scared to find out.
Everything, everyone, seemed to know that it was missing something. It was so quiet. Uptown, downtown, everywhere seemed to be mourning without knowing why.
Samuel had dropped by, refusing to use sign language. "I learned for Alex," he said, "Alex is the only reason I know it." His eyes were a bit red, and obvious tear tracks ran down his cheeks.
Alex was missing.
And everyone was a little broken.
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Alexander was breaking.
His screams turned to pleas, his whimpers to begs. He was breaking. Everything hurt, everything ached. The collar stayed on, never once coming off.
And he was petrified.
His father had found him. His father was the reason he was hurting. His father, his father, his father.
"STOP!!" He cried, as a shock shot through his body, clutching his fists, digging into his skin. "PLEASE, STO-" He cut himself off with a yelp as a belt was slapped against his back.
"SHUT UP YOU FILTHY BASTARD!"
The belt tore into his skin again, as the collar shocked him again. He stopped screaming, sobs shaking his whole body.
He felt so broken.
Even more so when his torturer began to leave hickeys on his neck.
"Please.." he whispered, "s-stop-"
"Shh, it's alright.. you're mine now."
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The police had nothing. No evidence, no leads, nothing but a few texts on a phone and an essay on laws in the U.S.
The cameras in the library had been cut out two hours before the missing person, Hamilton, had arrived. They weren't turned back on until the next day.
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Dameged Goods- Jamilams
FanfictionHamilton- Two tattoos. That means two soul mates. Great, two people who now had to deal with the burden of himself. He doesn't deserve love. At least, that's what he tells himself. Jefferson- Two tattoos. He had already found one lover and he knows...
