Chapter Text
When Thomas got a call from Memorial Heights Hospital, to say he was mildly annoyed was an understatement.
"Pardon me, is this Thomas Jefferson?" a feminine voice on the other end asked.
"Yes, it is. Why are you calling me?" Jefferson demanded hotly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"...Alexander Hamilton is in the ER sir. There was an accident on Mercer St... Two drunk drivers hit Mr. Hamilton at an intersection. It was a hit and run, so to speak, so we didn't find out who did it. Would you like the details to the extent of his injuries?"
"I-- yes! Of course I do!" Thomas growled, already halfway out the door. Fucking Hamilton.
"Well Mr. Jefferson, due to the graphic nature of these injuries, I'm going to have to warn you." The unsure woman stated. All annoyance was diminished with concern and worry.
"Well, I'd imagine getting hit with two cars would hurt," Jefferson sighed. "Tell me what happened."
"Mr. Hamilton has suffered greatly in the accident. His left forearm is shattered, as is a few ribs. He has suffered a nasty head injury, of which we believe will cause temporary memory loss, and will likely result in chronic headaches, even migraines. The car's engine dropped, not on him, luckily, but the exhaust emitted resulted in 2nd degree burns on various areas on his body, and his right leg is much too neurotically damaged for us to save, so we have to amputate it to prevent infection." She explained, Thomas stopping dead in his tracks.
"Wait, amputate? He's not going to be able to walk anymore? Or can he get a prosthetic leg?"
"Well, if he so wishes, yes, Mr. Hamilton can receive a prosthetic leg."
"Anything else? Was any of his organs damaged? What is the extent of his injuries in that area, you did say he shattered a few ribs." Jefferson inquired, connecting the phone to the car speaker.
"Do you know Mr. Hamilton personally?" The nurse quizzed briefly.
"Somewhat, yes."
"Did you know that he has severe asthma?" Thomas startled.
"I-- I do now. I know that he gets a really bad fever and cough every summer."
"Okay. The rib injuries haven't harmed his organs, however, we had to hook him to a ventilator to help him breathe because the crash triggered an asthmatic response."
"O-Okay, so.. he can't breathe, walk, or speak?" Jefferson clarified.
"Yes, as of the moment. He will heal within a few weeks time, however, he will still require bed rest. Mr. Hamilton is a very strong boy, is he not?" The nurse spoke with faux exasperation.
"Indeed he is," Thomas parked near the hospital entrance, taking the keys out of the car. "Can you meet me in the downstairs lobby? I'm right outside."
"Yes sir, I'll see you in a moment." She said, shuffling around on the other side.
"Thank you." With that, Thomas hung up the phone and got out of the car. Walking into the hospital was easy. Finding the nurse was a well.
"Mr. Jefferson, correct?" A young woman with wavy honey hair and hazel eyes rushed towards him with a clipboard.
"Yes, that's me. You're the doctor on the phone?" He asked, taking in her disheveled appearance.
"Y-Yes I am, I'm sorry about my appearance, but Mr. Hamilton is unstable. He flat lined twice now, but as of now, his vitals are okay. Remember his head injury?" Thomas nodded. "Turns out it's much more serious then we thought. No new symptoms, but he did hit it rather hard. He should be okay, but we had to move him into Intensive Care."
"Thank you for the update. What's your name, in case I need to ask for you?" The southerner asked the nurse, who let out a breathy laughed.
"My name is Anastasia Jaclyn. Mr. Hamilton is on floor 5, room 1802, feel free to ask any questions you have. You can go ahead into his room ,he should wake up soon. Though he is on the ventilator, none of the sleep medication worked for him. I believe he has built up a resistance to them. Strangely, he fell asleep on his own." Thomas nodded and thanked the nurse, walking into the open elevator. He pressed the 5th floor, and waited. While he waited, he couldn't help but feel bad for his self proclaimed nemesis.
"Jesus Christ Hamilton, why were you even driving today? We don't even have any work today--" He cut himself off when he reached the 5th floor, the elevator doors parting for him automatically. Thomas briefly nodded to the person waiting for to enter, passing them and heading straight to the desk.
"Pardon me, I'm here to see Alexander Hamilton?" Jefferson asked the lady sitting there, her name tag read "Maria".
"You're here to see Alex? You must be Thomas. Okay, I'm under strict instructions to personally walk to you his room." Maria exclaimed sheepishly, standing up and smoothing her hands over her skirt, letting them rest on her hips. "If you would please follow me, that would help us both! He's just down the hall, but I mush warn you, the sight isn't pleasant.
"I know the extent of the injuries. Please take me to see him?" Jefferson was getting quite impatient with this hospital. She bowed her head in resignation, walking towards what Thomas presumes is Alexander's-- when did where they on a first name basis-- room.
"Okay, here it is. Room 1802. If you need any assistance, call for me or Ms. Jaclyn with a red button by the door. Have a nice visit Mr. Jefferson." With that, Maria nodded with finality, the clack of her heels becoming further and further away. Thomas looked back at the door, taking a deep breath to prepare himself to see the injuries on the man. Composing himself and slipping on a mask of indifference, he pushed the door open to see Alexander picking at his IV.
Thomas cleared his throat, Hamilton whipping his head around to look at the sudden noise. When the younger male caught sight of Thomas, he visibly shrunk into himself, wincing at the unexpected pain the action caused.
"Alexander Hamilton, you are in so much trouble this time, aren't you?" Jefferson teased, attempting to ease the tension. This only succeeded in causing the man to become impossibly smaller, averting eye-contact."H-Hey, you know I was kidding. How are you feeling?" All he got in response was a one-shoulder shrug and a so-so sign with a hand. "Yeah, I get that. They still haven't found the guys that hit ya, but I heard that they ain't getting off without jail time."
Alexander held up his hand, pointing to the red button Maria was referring to. "You want me to push it? Wait-- Are you okay?!" Hamilton groaned and pointed again, more forcefully this time. Thomas got the hint and pressed it, walking back and sitting on a nearby chair. Soon enough, Dr. Jaclyn and another young woman entered.
"Alexander. All is well, I hope. You want the ventilator out?" He nodded excitedly, then pointed to Thomas. "Ah, you wanna talk to him?" Another excited nod. "Alright sugar, I'll take it out. It'll be uncomfortable, and I need you to stay still." She explained, making her way over to him. Hamilton opened his mouth as wide as he could, Dr. Jaclyn placing her hand gently under his chin, firmly grasping the tube. "Okay, relax you're throat and do not restrict it, okay?" He blinked in response. "Okay, Mr, Jefferson?" Thomas turned at his name.
"Yes?"
"I need you to hold his hands to make sure he doesn't grab at me, okay? This is quite uncomfortable and painful." Thomas inclined his head in understanding, grabbing both of Hamilton's hands, rubbing his thumbs over the younger males knuckles in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. "Alright, one, two, three." Dr. Jaclyn began to extract the tube, Hamilton whining in discomfort, but didn't restrict his throat. "You're doing good sugar, hang on. I know it hurts, but it's almost out.." Around three minutes passed agonizingly slow before the tube was completely out. "Aaand we're done! Good job honey. It's done now, so I'll be throwing this away." She nods her thanks to Jefferson and hands the tube to her assistant. She then pressed a button on the IV stand. "Okay, that's it. I'll see myself out. Alex, I sent some really REALLY heavy meds to your IV, so you'll be knocked out cold darling." Hamilton nodded, eyes drooping slightly. Jefferson was lightly alarmed when Alexander grabbed his arm and pulled him down to the bed to lay beside him, but Alex whined when he tried to pull away.
"I guess I'm a pillow now." Alexander nodded, carefully maneuvering himself on top of the southerner. Thomas lightly laughed and secured an arm around his waist. "Goodnight Hamilton."
"Goodnight Thomas." Came the quiet, sleepy whisper. Thomas lightly blushed when he heard his name roll off the immigrant's tongue, but quickly pushed it down, opting to close his eyes, and drift off with the weight of his "Enemy" asleep on top of him.