Thomgelica One-shots because not enough people write about them.

Comfort

A/N: Two post in a day... I think. I just have so many of these already done. So yeah... Enjoy!

Her body ached with sorrow as she climbed the steps to her house. She walked into her home.

Home?

Could she even call it that? Yes, that’s where she laid her head to rest but it didn’t feel…‘homey’. Not as her childhood home had.

Home was fitting when referring to The Schuyler manor, that place made her feel safe and loved. But this place that was eerily quiet, dark, lonely, and cold didn't deserve that title. But it would have to do for now.

Right now she needed a home, a place where she could let her rock-hard resolve shatter. A place where she could mourn her dear nephew.

The past week she hadn’t been able to properly grieve for Philip, she could count on one hand how many tears she shed. She spent those seven days consoling her sister and helping to take care of the rest of the Hamilton children.

The whole house had been so riddled with grief they could barely sit up straight, so she took care of them like a big sister should and as an aunt would. She didn’t mind helping but she was glad to finally get back to her own residence.

Now she could break down and cry until her tear ducts were empty, she couldn't do that when she was at the Hamilton’s. She had to be strong for her younger sister and the rest of the family.

So now as she closed the door to her house she was finally able to crack. The tears came slowly at first but once they started to flow they continued falling down her face at a rapid pace.

She sat on her couch and just let the tears fall. Her sobs were so strong they shook her body with such violent force and everything hurt.

She liked to be in control, she liked to fix things, and she always made sure her sisters were happy. Knowing that she couldn’t do anything to help was overwhelming. It made everything so much more unbearable. She couldn’t bring Philip back, she couldn’t do anything to make the Hamilton family feel better. She was completely useless and she hated it and she hated herself. She hated the world at the moment.

She was so wrapped up in her pain she didn't hear the first knock at the door, she didn't hear the first five actually. She didn't realize that someone was at the door until the pounding became deafening. She didn't think, she just got up and opened the door and she didn't bother to wipe her face free from the tears like she would have if she wasn’t so overcome with grief.

“Thomas, what are you doing here?” She asked, her barely above a whisper

“I came over to see how you were doing.”

“Well, that wasn’t necessary.” She said, though she was hardly able to muster her usual fire.

“Angelica, you were there for me after my mom’s death,” She flinched at the word death and he regretted using it instantly. He sighed. “Just let me be here for you.”

She wanted to say no to the offer. She wanted to slam the door in his face and curl up on her couch and cry some more, but she didn’t. She opened the door up wider and he walked in. He followed her to the couch and they just sat in darkness and silence.

“This is Hamilton’s fault.” She mumbled and his head snapped up.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the only reason the duel took place was because Philip was defending Hamilton’s honor. And when Philip asked him how to go about it Alexander told him to shoot at the sky. He didn’t tell his son that it wasn’t necessary for him to go through with the duel, he didn’t take his place. No, he told his son to shoot at the sky. He sent him on a suicide mission and now, now Philip is dead.” She said everything with so much pain and anger it made Thomas’s heart twist.

He had to admit that Hamilton’s advice was incredibly stupid and he wondered what was going through the man’s mind for him to tell his son something like that.

“That does sound like it’s Hamilton’s fault.” He agreed.

They sat in silence again until Thomas heard sniffles and he realized she was crying. He pulled her into a hug, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hair was in his face and he could feel her tears leaking onto his shirt but it didn’t matter. She could ruin the whole shirt for all he cared. The only thing that mattered was her.

He held her while she cried and he whispered soothing words to her. He hated that she was crying but he understood it was necessary so he tried his best to make the pain bearable.

He sat there with her for hours and he hugged her to him and then she was quiet. He realized that she had cried herself to sleep. He stayed with her on the couch in the most uncomfortable position, so as not to wake her.

While he tried to fall asleep he realized that he would do anything to prevent her from feeling this sort of pain ever again and he didn’t know what to do with that revelation. But he decided he'd figure it out another time. Right now all he wanted to do was keep her asleep and try to get some shut-eye himself.