Hamilton One/Two/Multishots

Utterly Alone - Jeffmads

Warning: Mentions of rape, self harm, attempted suicide, successful suicide, and depression. Do not read this if it will cause harm to your mental health. Please contact a suicide hotline or talk to a trusted loved one if you consider taking your own life. You are not alone. You are loved, you are wanted, you are needed.
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Jefferson hadn't been the same since that day. The day Alexander Hamilton had utterly humiliated him and exposed his feelings for his best friend. The day the cabinet found out he was a sodomite.

He had somehow, by the grace of God and the help of President Washington, escaped death. But he had not escaped the looks, sneers, insults, and threats. He nearly resigned from his position; It was only his love for the job that kept him there. He was turned away from bars and pubs, people refused to have him at their homes and people were warned to keep their sons and husbands away from him. But none of this mattered much to him.

What did matter was James Madison's reaction. He had been disgusted and refused to go near him. They had been best friend for years, yet the short politician glared and spat at him just like the others. And so Thomas Jefferson was utterly alone.

He wasn't the same anymore. At first, it was only minor. He didn't fight so hard against Hamilton, he didn't make so many snide remarks. Now, he didn't fight at all. He didn't agree with anything the man said, but he didn't fight. He hardly spoke a word at meetings, choosing instead to keep his head down, face hidden behind his mane of wild hair. He barely got his work done, and it was always late and poorly written if he did turn it in. Washington never said a thing, and simply forced Hamilton to rewrite it while keeping Jefferson's original work in it. He was never the same.

He was beat up quite often. Behind buildings, outside pubs, in the streets, in rooms where nobody was in. Nobody was ever there when it happened, and nobody would believe a sodomite anyway, so he never told anybody, not even when they held him down and had their way with his body, not even when his rectum was bleeding and his chest and back were sore from scratches and bruises, not even when he had to wear high collared shirts and jackets to hide the hand prints on his throat. And so he continued to be beat up.

He dropped the magenta jacket in the mud one day and never went to get it. Hamilton found it, had it cleaned, and put it on his chair, but he never got it. None of his work was turned in after that day. Nobody saw him. Nobody was able to contact him. Nobody even cared.

Thomas Jefferson was gone.

And nobody cared.
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When word got around to Washington, Hamilton, and Madison, the three politicians had frozen where they stood. One had gripped his hair and gone into a panic-induced convulsion, one had dropped into his chair and put his face in his hands, and one had simply stared into nothingness as he gripped his best friend's last letter.

Hamilton was to blame. Washington hadn't helped. And Madison had abandoned him, had left him utterly alone and helpless. And now Madison was alone. His best friend was dead, strung up by a noose tied to a tree branch in Virginia, outside Monticello. He had gone home to die.

Madison hit the floor in tears, holding the letter and sobbing for the one he had lost. The words hurt almost more than the news of his death.

My dearest Madison,

I love you. I can no longer deny it. After her death, you were all I had. You were there for me through everything. I couldn't help myself but to fall in love with you. You may hate me. I no longer care. They say Hell is a warm place. You know how I hate the cold. You will not join me, I know. You are an angel, sent from god, and so must return to him. You were my angel. They were not lying when they said angels were beautiful.

The pain and torture was worth being able to see you day after day. I didn't care if they beat me, I didn't care if they raped me, I did not care about anything but seeing you. And you hated me. They say love makes a man insane. I was insane for you.

I know you will not cry for me. You might not even read this. But I love you, James Madison. And I'm sorry that I was such a stain on your life.

Jefferson
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They say love makes a man insane.

From that day on, James Madison was never the same. He tried to kill himself seven times, all failed attempts. He had nightmares and woke up screaming and sobbing. He called out for a person who was no longer by his side.

His wife never said a word when he called out Jefferson's name during the throws of passion, or when he woke her in the middle of the night crying for his best friend. She simply held him and tried to be what Jefferson was to him. But she couldn't.

Madison wore the magenta coat every day for the rest of his life. He fought to protect and give rights to people like Jefferson. He named his child Thomas. He fought to maintain Jefferson's legacy.

When he died, it was peaceful. He was visiting Jefferson's grave like he did every Sunday. He sat beside it in the icy rain, talking and smiling through his cold like Jefferson was with him. When he laid his head down on the grass next to the tombstone, he softly spoke his final words.

"Goodnight Thomas. I love you." He closed his eyes, and never moved again.

He was buried next to Jefferson per his wife's request. They were finally reunited.

Finally, Thomas Jefferson was not alone.