Jamilton Oneshots :)

patron saint of lost causes [Jamilton]

the actual patron saint of lost causes is saint jude but it's not related to this story.

a voice,albeit one laced with mirthless humour,spoke out to him, almost as if to humour the man the voice belonged to.

"won't you join this organisation, my lost lamb? I'll show you the world you've never seen before."

and with those two sentences, he sealed the deal, the first of many deals he would make, but this particular deal, or treaty of sorts, was the only one which was fair to both parties. a lost lamb hiding an unpolished diamond, with the promise of camaraderie and polished luxuries, far beyond the world he sought out for, only had himself to fear.

in the wrapped confines of the city's underground scoundrels, a promising subordinate was born into the heat of the mafia, and given a name. alexander.

in the hierarchy of the mafia, three things were valued. loyalty to the fullest, to obey any command of the higher ups, whether a subordinate or an executive, you were bound to the mafia, by blood, by loyalty, and sometimes even love. a pained triangle of doomed destinies, bound to hurt anyone and everyone in some way or another. that was the price to pay for a place in the heaven far from the dumps of the city in ruins. the six highest executives and the boss, playing god, deciding who was to be salvaged and who was to be damned from this proclaimed heaven. the boss was sometimes known as the patron saint of lost causes, as he'd sometimes pick up lost souls from the curbs and turn them into the devil's advocate.

but, alexander thought, those picked up by the boss had higher expectations than those picked up by the executives. he was, so far, the only one the boss had picked up and initiated into the mafia for quite a while. he, however, for the life of him, could not pinpoint or understand what led the boss to lead him in. the mafia was not heaven, merely a better form of life than the streets. he was one of the lucky ones. "his lost lamb" as the boss told him, held a certain hint of possessiveness that did not go unnoticed by anyone. alexander could beg to differ that he was not a lamb by any means to the boss, more of a dog, conditioned to obey his every whim, sometimes an assistant, partner, errand boy, and the occasional lover. he fulfilled these roles with the air of resignation, like a beaten dog conditioned by the carrot and stick module.

love had a funny way of disguising itself as dogged devotion, didn't it?

as fear goes, being one in the mafia, alexander did not fear most things. he did, however, had an irrational fear of losing himself, and/or the people closest to him. he fears losing himself as a whole, to disassociate from his ideals, his interests, and to become a marionette tangled in it's own strings, bland, broken, and completely pliant,even against his will. even if he is indeed a marionette controlled by the boss himself, he will gladly be manipulated, so as long as he is still standing on his own terms, still alexander through and through it isn't the matter of being manipulated by others, it is the fact that he is the only thing in his life that he can control, no matter how much his subordinates pledge their loyalties to him, or spill blood for him.

there is only one person that he will gladly spill blood for, whether it be his blood or others. the mafia may be his family, the building his house, but home isn't a place. for him, it is one person, and he will be thriving wherever his home is. people are often themselves at home, and there is no exception for him. the other man has already returned his affections tenfold a long time ago, making him the boss's lackey after all.

"what are you spacing out for, little lamb? the meeting has already ended. it's time to go back home. I need you in my office as soon as possible, no questions asked."

ah, yes. thomas' demands are absolute, after all. no matter how much he tries to escape the strings tied to him leading back to thomas, his traitorous heart has already been ensnared into the strings, strung out for his husband, as always. his chest isn't empty, however. he does have thomas' heart in his grasp in return, and this fact couldn't be any more truer than when he slips his hand into thomas' without hesitation,and a sheep that has found itself and a mafia boss walk off into the sunset, souls interwoven by the strings of sheer fate.

i will agree that this is abit more straightforward than libet's all joyful camaraderie, but there are still many hidden meanings to be found in this story. I hope you enjoyed this twisted tale of an amalgamation of love.

[ 845 words ]