Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It began as a good day, really.

Thomas Jefferson got up at 6 am as usual, made his coffee meticulously measured to create the exact same taste as always. He counted the ticks of the analog clock on the kitchen wall just to ensure it, although at this point he would probably be able to just know the right time to turn off the stove by heart. He then poured the drink to himself and proceeded to scroll through the news on his phone: the same as every other day, just the balanced amount of tragedy and futility equally displayed on the screen.

Some might think this kind of repetition day after day is monotonous, dreary even, but not for Thomas, he always liked to have a routine and does not handle change very well.

About an hour later, he’s getting dressed to go to work. It’s a Tuesday, so he’s wearing a nice custom-made magenta suit from Mulligan’s Tailoring business that will certainly lead to another self-absorbed, not-asked-for and straight up wrong remark by Alexander Hamilton. The head of the finances department seems to be incapable of keeping it not personal, and Thomas is usually more than ready to follow suit. It would be unfair to try and say the short-tempered & short-statured loud bastard was the only one to provoke the arguments they usually have while “discussing” during meetings.

Once, Thomas was the first one to call him an idiot for the budget cutting he’d done to one of his projects, and they argued so much so that Washington himself, usually so calm and composed, had to intervene in order to keep them from jumping after each other's throats. On another occasion, Thomas was also the first one to comment on how Hamilton dressed like a clown, not to mention the deep dark bags under his eyes, indicating how sleep deprived that irresponsible little sh-

Wait, what was he doing now? Oh, yes, getting dressed.

Jefferson brushes off the images of his coworker angrily looking at him tip to toe with that judgmental face of his – frowning and twitching his upper lip in distaste – from his mind as he leaves the apartment he lives in, heading to the parking-lot. His car smelled like fresh mint.

Somehow that was the last hint of normality he would have for the rest of the day – maybe for the rest of his life. That smell, that familiar view as he leaves the garage, the calm traffic. If he knew what was about to happen in the following hours, he would desperately try and absorb every single detail from it.

He was driving safely down the street, no need to rush, as his apartment was only 5 minutes away from his working place. 

It felt like he had just left when a blurred figure appeared in front of the car window and a loud bumping sound could be heard. He immediately buried his foot in the brake, rocking violently back and forth from the impact.

oh shit.

OH. SHIT.

He unclicked the seat belt in a hurry and stumbled out of the car, mumbling a series of curses because for some erratum mockery of the universe he had just hit somebody even though the street was, hitherto, completely empty. His panic was increasing rapidly as the thrumming on his ears got louder and louder, he could feel his entire body shaking and the tips of his fingers were cold and empty. The figure lying in front of his car looked like a pile of excessively colored cloth, a sight that would certainly have caused very futile discomfort on any occasion other than a damn car accident, of which he had somehow been the cause. Thomas starts to panic yet again because what the fuck is he supposed to do? Try to get them up? Call an ambulance? Scream for help? Curl up into a pathetic ball of self-flagellation for possibly killing someone?

The answer seems to be none of the above as the vibrant green, blue, red, yellow and golden fabric designed to look like feathers starts to move by itself, getting up from the ground with a sort of tingling sound that is very annoying, if you ask his opinion. A black, wrinkled hand comes out around the edge of the fabric and begins to gently pat the dust off the cloak. Thomas still can't see that person's face since their back is turned to him, so he just watches in amazement as they sways back and forth trying to clean up from rolling in the ground.

“Um, excuse me… are you ok?” He finally remembers he is supposed to talk and make sure they don’t need any assistance. He can be awkward and shy, but his mother educated a gentleman, thank you very much.

The colorful fella stops and slowly turns to face him. The first thing he notices is that it is a black hunched over old lady, wearing a feather cape and an even more extravagant attire that he cannot identify exactly. Her hands are covered in heavy rings, the noise when she moved can be explained by the wide array of necklaces she was wearing. The expression on her face was difficult to read, especially for someone like Thomas, who spends most of his time trying to avoid looking people directly in the eyes. The woman's kinky and grizzly hair was braided and tied into a high bun, and was also decorated with several metal pieces carved with flowers.

“Aren't we all, dear?” When she spoke, Thomas felt a shiver down his spine. It was low, calm and raspy; her voice resembled the singing of an owl, it felt strange and unsettling to hear.

“Wha-”

“It approaches us at an overwhelming speed, dear. Humanity's cruelest nightmares, all loose and walking among the ranks of humans; could one be “okay” in such harsh circumstances? Oh, better even, could one find peace of mind witnessing the atrocities held upon your species by its own crude hands?” She takes a step towards him, and Thomas has to hold the urge to take a step back. The woman proceeds her speech, not expecting an answer from the very confused man. “Take care of this bird, take care of it as if your life depended on it.”

“What? What bird?” He says, just to realize in a blink that she is holding a golden cage that was absolutely not there a second ago. Inside it, there is a small bird. Its feathers are mostly grayish, with the exception of the tips of its wings, which are black and sharp. Its beak is short and opens when it makes a sharp rasp, scaring the shit out of Thomas. “What the fu- what am I supposed to do with a bird? Where did it come from?”

His confusion increased when the old lady grinned “I bless your Mother”. She just tosses the cage in his direction, and it almost hits him in the face as he struggles to catch it. When the strangeness of the situation seemed not possible to soare, the woman simply disappeared right before Thomas’ bewildered eyes like she was never there, leaving him with the agitated animal screaming and flying around after being rudely tossed like a ball. He tries to stabilize the cage in his arms and calm the bird down as he goes back to his car.

He has no idea of what he should do, but he knows damn well what he shouldn’t: be late to work.

The corporation Thomas works is a chaotic startup. Its brand new administration was struggling to consolidate in the form of departments that would actually work well in symphony, and he likes to address most of the issue by blaming the finances, because the head of the department seemed to think he can interfere with just anything as he pleases, difficultating the vast majority of Jefferson’s projects with budget plans too tight and hard to achieve.

Alexander’s taste for meddling in his affairs seems to be unlimited, and that’s what brings them to the situation they are in today: the small figure of Alexander Hamilton waltzing into Thomas’ office with a bunch of papers and a hunger for a fight. They’ve been like that since the day they met about an year ago, up to the point no one can stand them during meetings, and although Jefferson dislikes how it affects his otherwise pleasant and composed image, he cannot seem to be capable of holding back as much as Hamilton can’t hold his tongue.

“Jefferson, are you insane? Do you think we can afford… The hell is that?” Alexander stops in the middle of a sentence that was probably going to be about this new collaboration Thomas was going to propose the following week when he sees the golden cage resting on top of the desk. The mockingbird inside was happily eating the birdseed that Thomas had bought on the way to work, it was enough to finally calm it down, and the man was staring delighted at the sight of the animal when it was not acting like a desperate feather ball. He finally looked up to face his unwanted guest.

“It’s a bird, Hamilton.” He answers calmly. That was not the first time someone asked him about it, and was not going to be the last one.

“I can see that idiot, why did you bring it here?” Alexander crosses his arms, sounding a lot less angry than before.

“If I tell you that an old lady gave it to me after throwing herself in front of my car would you believe it?” Thomas tapped his fingers nervously on the table, with the exact judgmental gaze he had imagined for Hamilton to have upon him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then that settles it. What were you saying before that?”

Instead of answering, Alexander closes the door on his back and walks towards the desk, not getting his eyes out of the bird. He sits in one of the empty chairs opposite Jefferson's to watch it, and for the first time they fall into some sort of civilized – polite even – comfortable silence.

After a couple of pleasant instants of quiet appreciation, Hamilton was first to speak, as always.

“Did you name it?”

“Yeah” Jefferson nods and puts his finger close to the cage bars. The bird approaches it with curiosity. “-’s name is Dick”

When he says that, Alexander stares at him dead in the eyes. His incredulity amuses Thomas more than he would like to admit. “What?”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Dick fits its beak between the bars to gently peak the flesh of his finger. He giggles tenderly and Hamilton frowns, looking like he is struggling with some kind of mental fight for a second before he hides it, inhaling hard but discreetly.

“Unbelievable.” The short man finally gets up and turns on his heels to make his exit. “Try to not get feathers and bird shit all over your office, Jefferson.”

“Don’t worry, even if that happened it couldn’t possibly get worse than yours anyway.” He teases back, and the other gives him the finger.

“Fuck you. And we are not done talking about this stupid deal” He mouths in his leave, hearing Thomas laugh right after.

“What are you talking about, we didn’t even start!”

During the following hours, Thomas’ office is visited by a total of 10 different co-workers wanting to see the “feathered companion” the head of the management had brought. How they have all this time for gossip, he wonders, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of conversations he has to maintain, explaining over and over again that he did not intend to bring this bird with him, that he had no choice, but he found it very difficult to explain the circumstances surrounding the unintended adoption of Dick without sounding completely insane, thus he gave up. It was only when James Madison, his childhood best friend, walked in that he could melt in his chair and release a tense sigh he was holding.

“James my head’s spinning” he rubs his eyes hard, until the point black spots burst behind his eyelids, trying to focus on something that is not the uncomfortable thrumming inside his head. “-nd this stupid son of a bitch won’t shut up” his voice comes in an unpleasant groan as he points to the general direction of the cage.

“Right… First things first, how did you get this? You’re not a pet parent kinda person, so…?” Madison circles the desk to come closer, and Thomas cries out when he asks the same thing he’s being asked multiple times this morning. The thing is — he knows he doesn't need to pretend anything around his closest friend, so he is not holding the urge to make noises of complaint. James knows him since always, he doesn’t judge or look at him weirdly when he does that, and he’s very grateful.

“I told everyone at this point…” He starts, and James actually chuckles while patting his shoulder.

“Hamilton is spreading the word that you ran over an elderly lady and she gave you this, absolute nonsense-”

“That’s precisely what happened.” Thomas’ face contorts in disgust, imagining the mocking tone of voice used by Alexander, but he can't deny it. The two men remain silent for a while as James processes the information received, until he risks looking up, his eyes briefly meeting those of his friend standing next to his chair, his hand still resting on his shoulder.

“Are you- are you being serious Tom?” He frowns in confusion before looking at Dick, who’s now trying to open the cage door and chirping in frustration as he is unable to unlock it. Jefferson takes a deep breath, trying not to yell at an irrational creature who probably has no idea how much it makes the man want to pull out tufts of his long curly hair with his bare hands.

“And why would I lie about it? As you said, I did not want a pet, I would not buy a fucking noisy bird if I wanted. He’s kinda cute when he’s mute, sure, but look at him now and tell me if you think he’ll ever shut up when I’m trying to sleep.” He buries both his hands on his hair, finally being able to freak out about it. “And I think I’m going insane James, I saw it, she was not there a second before my car hit something- when I went out to check the fuck just happened, she just got up by herself- an old lady, wearing some kind of ceremonial colorful vest- she said the weirdest shit, blessed my mother, threw this cage right on my face and fucking disappeared I swear to God James I couldn’t invent it even if I tried!”

By the end of his rant, he was almost hyperventilating. His head felt heavy and dizzy, all sorts of worries flooding his system all at once, and he was glad to have James there to ground him; he vaguely wonders if his body was just waiting for someone safe to come inside so that it could collapse. He feels his friend’s hands on both his shoulders now, keeping him in place. “Fair enough. Just calm down, I’m here, you’ll figure it out”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

James hesitates “honestly this is not the most believable thing you said to me”

“What else am I supposed to say? She told me something about nightmares and humanity…” He pulls his hair insistently until he’s practically hiding his face with it, on the verge of a breakdown. It was not until he could let all the tension out that he realized just how fucked he is. “And I can’t just abandon him- her — I don’t even know — can I?”

“No, you can’t.” Madison says flatly. Thomas suddenly turns around to face him.

“Could you-”

“No.”

“Just for today Jammie please-”

“I’m not taking care of the bird Thomas”

“But how am I supposed to sleep?”

“How am I supposed to explain to Dolley that I have a bird named Dick in my house?” He burst out quickly, avoiding looking at Thomas’ face and blushing like a fucking school girl. A few seconds pass without any of them saying a thing.

“Did you ask her out?” James nods. “Fucking finally-”

“Oh shut up.”

“You guys love each other since high-school of course is a fucking finally situation,-” 

“Anyways” He cuts him before he can say anything else. “I need this night to be perfect, nothing unpredicted happening, no surprises, just the two of us enjoying a nice dinner and fine wine. So I'm sorry but I can't assist you in this”

“Yeah okay you made your point. I'll be fine. Wish you luck with your dinner” he sighs, his frustration as clear in his voice as his genuine happiness for his friend finally making a move.

“You sure?”

“I'll have to, considering my bestie is betraying me for a woman today…” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. He feels proud when he puts a tiny smile on James’ lips.

“Don't be dramatic”

“Do you even know who you're talking to?”

The rest of the day went as fine as it could go considering the constant twitching and flapping of wings inside of his office. 

But that was, surprisingly, not the most bizarre thing happening.

Hamilton visited him twice after that first encounter, allegedly to further discuss the financial prospects of the collaborations with this Brazilian corp Thomas was trying to get past the planning phase, but he was quickly able to figure out it was not what was happening. Alexander was more agitated than usual, looking askance far too often, distracted and loose mouthed — not that he usually didn’t try to offend Jefferson any way he could, but this time it was worse, trust the guy who is constantly in the sights of the treasurer's sharp tongue.

“Hamilton, what is your point here?” Thomas was starting to get pissed, for real. He moved his body back to rest on the chair, crossing his arms and looking straight into his usual adversary's eyes for thousandths of a second before moving a few centimeters downwards, seeing as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. Distressed.

“What do you mean? I’m just saying how stupid it is to-”

“Yeah, yeah you told me that a hundred times by now” He waves Hamilton’s justification away “I’m asking what is the true purpose of it, because I don’t have time to listen to you yelling at me for something we both know is not unreasonable’nd don’t gimme that look-”

“As if you would even know what look I’m giving considering you won’t look at m-”

“Oh please not this again-”

“For as stupid as it is people usually enjoy a conversation in which the person they’re talking actually pay attention-”

“I am paying attention for fuck’s sake-”

“-so much you yet didn’t understand-”

“I understood Hamilton, I just- look, I know you didn’t come here to talk about the negotiations to which nobody called you and you’re mad about it-”

“-the fuck I’m not-”

“Stop interrupting, I know you-”

“Oh you think you KNOW me so well then WHY DON’T YOU JUST LET ME YELL AT YOU ‘TIL I DON’T FEEL LIKE SHIT?” 

They both startle when Hamilton starts actually yelling at him in a tone of voice they typically reach only in especially heated debates. Thomas, who wasn't expecting this, instinctively puts his hands to his ears, and Alexander seems to realize how exalted he got. He sort of just stands there, looking as Jefferson shakes a bit trying to recompose himself; the man was already exhausted from, well, quite literally everything that happened since he got his foot out of bed, and he did not need to get his hearing hypersensitivity triggered like that.

“uh- I didn’t mean to-” the bastard stumbles over his own words like his mouth wasn’t created to apologize.

“Get out.”

“Jeffers-”

“Get out my office please” he closes his eyes and practically hisses in pain as he begs Hamilton to get out of there. Despite all his difficult temper and constant lack of consideration, Alexander is not a complete asshole, he knows that this time he crossed a line, he knows that this is the time to withdraw so as not to make things worse, and his regret is genuine: he didn't expect that he would end up actually hurting the other.

So he lowers his head and gets out.

The bird observes the scene with intelligent eyes. The flame behind them was not, in any form, irrational.

A couple of hours later, Thomas is finally home.

He was cooking dinner — y’know, wearing a cute apron and everything — when he heard something coming from the living room. The poor man groaned in frustration as he realized it was just Dick flapping its wings insistently, scattering seed hulls and feathers on the French velvet carpet that Thomas had brought from his business trip to the country. He was just about to ignore the bird and go back to the delicious mac & cheese he was cooking when he heard a voice.

A little harder to ignore a fucking voice coming from your allegedly empty home.

“... shit how do I… Thomas. THOMAS!” and more flapping. Jefferson’s jaw dropped. The voice was calling his name .

“The- Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!” He was terrified. He felt a shiver down his spine as the apparent intruder continued to talk.

“Fucks’ sake, come here! I’m Dick! Stupid name you gave me but-”

“HUH?”

“Are you deaf? I said come here you mortals are so fucking slow-”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Thomas finally mustered up the courage to get his legs moving, because he wasn't going to just stand there and let a damn bird insult him like that, it would be humiliating. When he arrived in the room, he found Dick's cage exactly where it had been temporarily placed: on the table. Inside it, the bird was standing right in the center in an obviously impatient pose, with its wings crossed in front of its body and its "forehead" furrowed — or as much as a bird could express with its face.

“Oh, there you are! We don’t have much time, so lemme tell ya what’s important, then you can ask questions afterwards, ‘right?” Dick didn't wait for a response before he spread his little wings and continued speaking in a grandiose tone. 

“You have been chosen! Our Sorceress Mother gave me to you to assist in the great mission that falls upon you; You, Thomas, must fight the shadows of evil that threaten New York City and bring their nightmarish essences to me. You'll go out into the streets and combat the darkest parts of men's minds, face the most difficult self-imposed challenges and you will triumph because She trusts you, oh yes, She really does! Despite all the defects such as cowardice, arrogance, vanity, stupidity - in short, everything that makes you you, She trusted you with this task. 'Why?' You might be wondering... I don't know either. The designs of Her mind are far beyond the comprehension of a so humble servant as myself” he bowed solemnly “Any questions?”

The room was filled with thick silence. Jefferson starred in absolute horror as the bird gestured and talked of greatness, a Mother, nightmares — all sorts of things he wasn’t expecting to hear from it. In a matter of fact, he wasn’t expecting to hear anything at all from a mockingbird, and this notion seemed to ground him to the terrifying possibility he was actually going insane. It wasn’t until Dick talked again he realized this shit was really happening and he needed to do something-

“So- no questions?”

“ Of course I have questions- why? Why me? Why would I even do that? Combat the darkest shit of shits- why? ”

“Uh… to save your beloved city from the nightmares running free?”

“Nu-uh, in case you don’t know, this is not my beloved anything. I’m lobbying hard to move the company's headquarters to the south. I don't have anything dear or loved here, I don't want to stay much longer and I'm definitely not going to chase nightmares around, are you going crazy?” Thomas almost laughs at the sheer irony of his query. Are you going crazy? Sir you’re talking to a bird-

“Huh, that’s… w-well, if you don’t, then that prick from work will die tonight!” Dick flaps his wings nervously as he reveals that piece of information.

“Say what?” Thomas freezes.

“Yes! That one who fought with you today- if you don't accept collecting the nightmares, he will die.”

“Hey! And how the fuck you know that?”

“Because the first nightmare I want you to kill and bring me the essence is his!”

“What do you mean?” His tone was more serious now. Dick would smile if he had a mouth, there it is.

“Y’know jus’... he seems like a troubled individual, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“If I tell ya his nightmare will attack him tonight, and that I felt it coming from the moment he walked into your office the first time, would you believe me?”

“Just- hold on.” Thomas presses hard on the area between his eyes, he can already feel the headache forming “you keep saying ‘the nightmares’ will do this and that but… how? I mean aren’t nightmares just bad dreams you get over when you wake up?”

“Don’t focus on the technicalities now Tom”

“Wha-”

“You’ll get it when ya see it, ‘kay? Just trust me. Do we have a deal?”

“Of course not-”

“Do you want the Ham guy to die?”

“No- I mean he would prob’ly want me dead but-”

“Then that settles it! You don’t want him to die, you save him. The only way to save him is trusting me, since I’m the only one capable of giving you the power to save him, hence we have a deal. Understood?”

“Urgh, fine, how do I do that?” Defeated, Thomas shrugs in disbelief.

“Firstly…” the bird jumped from the perch to the cage floor “for you to be able to see nightmares, I’ll share with you part of my soul”

“And how-”

“Shush, I need to concentrate!” He then closed his eyes, Thomas watched in amazement as the animal began to make noises of tremendous effort that definitely shouldn't come from a bird's throat and- wait a second , he was-

“A-are you laying an egg?” Thomas was horrified as it was confirmed to be true; he saw a large, glowing thing being slowly ejected from his cloaca, a sight as disgusting as it was fascinating, for the spherical object possessed a pale, pearl-like luster that would certainly deserve every eye in a museum of natural beauty if it were not for the fact that it was coming out of the bottom part of a bird that screamed in pain like a human being suffering from constipation. When the pulsating ball of pure power came out, it hit the cage floor with a snotty sound that left Thomas nauseated. “I’m gonna throw up-”

“Oh don’t be a pussy, you have to eat that” Dick was still painting from the tremendous effort he just did, and it didn’t help to convince Thomas at all.

“Absolutely not-”

“Are you gonna let people die because of fussiness?”

“But- that just came out of your-”

“Yeah yeah, that’s what birds do Jefferson, just eat it!”

“No!”

Dick groaned in anger before standing up with apparent difficulty. He stuck one of his clawed paws into the soft surface of the blue sphere and flew towards the cage door with a dazzling agility that he had not demonstrated until then. His deft fingers unlocked the cage and he came out in a spiral of feathers and a cry of protest that died in the man's throat as the disgusting thing was shoved roughly into his mouth. Thomas felt tears forming in his eyes as he was forced to swallow the blue sphere in one go, feeling his throat contract uncomfortably around it as it descended into the esophagus. He then pulled away as best he could, coughing and frantically trying not to vomit.

The bird landed on the handle of the cage, watching him struggle completely unimpressed "you wouldn't survive an hour in the real world"

"If so then... why the fuck... would you want me to..." Thomas' voice was raspy and he was puffing hard against his trembling hand.

"Dunno, ask the Mother when you get the chance." Dick cleaned the feathers of his wings calmly waiting for Thomas to recover. When he was finally able to stand up decently, he continued. “Ok, now you’re ready. The target will be in the bar near his apartment, I believe it’s called Rabbit’s death score bar or some shit like that…”

“But that’s almost 40 minutes away from here!”

“One more reason for you to hurry the fuck up ”

“What’s he doing at a bar Tuesday night anyway?”

“Troubled individual, remember? Stop with the excuses and go!”

“But-” As he tried to find some more excuse, they started to smell burning. “fucking shit- my dinner ” Thomas rushed to turn off the stove, coughing hard at the dense smell of smoke coming from the pan full of ruined mac & cheese. He stared blankly, dead inside. Feeling he was about to break down, Dick landed softly on his shoulder.

“Um… That's unfortunate.”

“Thanks for your help ” he spited sarcastically.

“If you go now, I can cook you dinner” he offered, trying to sound absolutely disinterested. If his intention was to make Thomas feel better about it, he certainly didn't get the expected result, as the man looked at him with absolute disgust.

“Fuck you. I’m going, but just because I can’t stand being near you any longer. And fuck you again” He moved abruptly to make the bird fall off his shoulder as he untied his apron to throw it in some random direction before stomping out of the house.

It was a dark and stormy night — except it wasn't raining, and the lights of the city prevented it from being dark altogether, but Thomas thought it would be appropriate to describe the task he was going to perform as “dark and stormy”, so just let it be.

The bar where Hamilton was supposed to be drinking in the middle of the week was far away, so it was late at night when he finally stopped on the street. Thomas got out of the car only half sure of what he was supposed to do. Or rather, he thought he knew what to do. You'll get it when ya see it , he said.

Thomas walked into the bar feeling a little bewildered and stupid. It was a small, tidy pub, with a television in the corner playing some talk show that he had no interest in identifying and several tables filled with people of all sorts. He was surprised to find the place so full, wondering if those people had work to do the next morning, but then he wanted to laugh at himself since that would also apply to the idiot he was looking for, and it wasn't exactly a deterrent for him, was it? Anyway, as they say “in Rome do as the Romans do”, he decided to order a drink for himself in order to blend in with the bar crowd and be able to search without looking too outcast.

He stood in front of the balcony savoring his gin. To his right side, a table of what looked like a bunch of truck drivers played poker loudly; to his left, a group of young people talked about college; some tables to his front, there was one full of women apparently in some “girls night” thing. Neither of these groups seemed very likely to be Hamilton’s company, so he moved his eyes to a more private area.

There was a door beside the bar that would lead to the bathrooms area, he supposed. He frowned at it when a tall man came out in a hurry fixing his long blonde hair quickly and slightly panting. His curiosity increased even more after he stretched a little to look at the small window at the top of the door and noticed that, instead of being a small corridor with the women's and men's bathrooms, it looked like a complex of several corridors and rooms. Huh.

He left the empty glass and went to open the door, revealing a much quieter place. As he walked down the corridor, he was startled to hear someone sobbing. The sound was muffled and low, as if the person was really trying to keep it quiet, and Thomas felt his heart sink as he slightly opened the door to one of the dark storage rooms to come across a person with their head between their knees crying their eyes out. There were several pieces of glass on the floor in front of the door that made noise when it moved, so the person looked up in alarm, and they were both in shock as they looked at each other and realized that-

“Hamilton is that you? What are you doing here-”

“I s-should be the one asking, what the fuck are you doing?” He quickly tried to wipe down his tears on the long sleeves he was wearing.

Thomas carefully tiptoed closer to his co-worker, trying to avoid all the boxes and bottle debris scattered across the floor. Hamilton was still looking at him with a suspicious and scared look, but incredibly he didn't try to move away when the other crouched down next to him. “Look, this will sound as absolute bullshit, but I need to-”

Then he saw it.

Inside Hamilton’s eyes, to which he was drawn to look into despite his constant attempt to not do so, a shadow started to suddenly grow into somewhat a purplish flame. The smaller man grabbed his arm firmly and started to hyperventilate, Thomas could see his face shining lightly with sweat as everything around them began to spin.

They both fainted, but the darkness did not last long.

Thomas opened his eyes at once, inhaling heavily. Everything around him had been drastically changed- Hamilton was nowhere to be seen, and as he used his hands to lift him out of the ground, he realized the texture of it had changed as well as its color. He didn’t recall the storage room to be so bright , nor the floor to be so green , much less the world to look like it was made with crayons. He looked up and found a light blue painted vastitude with a yellow spiral with some scratches around it, surely to imitate the sun, everything shining so intensely that made his eyes sore.

He pressed his hands firmly to his eyes trying to understand what the fuck was happening. Is this a nightmare? Can a nightmare be so… childish ? Everything — from the sun, to the flower fields, the trees, the clouds — looked like a kid’s paint. He was expecting… honestly anything far more terrifying than that.

“What did I get myself into…?”

“Mom?”

He almost jumped when a fucking drawing of a child — literally a a sketchy circle for the head, a triangle for the body and two sticks representing the legs — appeared out of nowhere. It didn’t have eyes or a mouth, which was even more disturbing considering it could talk somehow. 

Thomas struggled to let the words out as he stumbled to stand up. “I’m not your mom- I’m not even a woman what-”

“The kids from school said I look like a girl, is that true?”

“Uh… well for me you look like…” He stared into the hollow of the kid’s face “something that shouldn’t exist. What are you and where are we?”

“Do you know what you are?” The figure tilted its head, and the movement made its entire body glitch and change slightly.

“That’s… maybe?”

“Mama, I feel sick… can we go to the hospital?” It seemed to ignore Thomas’ answer.

“I don’t know… where is the hospital?”

“Mom? Why aren’t you moving?”

“What?”

“Please… mom… get up… I need you”

Thomas felt a shiver down his spine when he realized the child wasn't talking to him. It was as if it was trapped in some kind of vision, and its voice seemed increasingly heavy with dread. He began to walk away as quickly as he could, still hearing the child's painful cries in the distance. He ran like his life depended on it, just to collide with the same drawing from before. He fell back in pain, realizing he came to the same place he was before despite running in the opposite direction.

“Mama, did you see the drawing I made?”

“No… that can’t be…” 

“I made it for you… looking pretty and… alive…” The voice of the creature started to change. Its arms and legs stretched and bent several times until it was almost 2 meters tall. The empty face contorted again and again, growing in size and completely swallowing the colorful triangle it once stood on. The small child turned into a vile creature woven in pure darkness, its purple eyes reminiscent of the shadow Thomas had seen within Hamilton's eyes.

The creature growled through the gap that formed its mouth and raised its claws, descending them with dizzying speed towards Thomas, who instinctively jumped to the side to avoid them. The monster began to scream in frustration as if it were suffering, as if it were a child throwing a tantrum. Thomas rolled onto the crayon grass and stood up quickly, looking at the thing that grew larger and larger, reaching about 5 meters.

Shit, shit, what do I do?? What should I do against this??

His thoughts mixed together in a spiral of despair as he avoided the blows in an almost miraculous way. Honestly, Thomas couldn't say how he was still alive, but now wasn't the time to think about that since his imminent problems were right in front of him, growling endlessly and trying to impale him.

“Stop running!” 

The creature dug its claws into the ground, spreading a wave of contamination across the colorful scribbles, turning everything it touched into dead matter.  Thomas watched the world contorted and tried to resist the nightmare, but the sun was starting to go out and the flowers no longer had the life they once had.

“What are you doing?”

“Claiming what is mine!”

“It's not yours! It's Hamilton’s!”

The creature's roars were no worse than its sneering laugh. “AND WHERE IS HE?” It spreaded its arms open, smiling largely.

Thomas' eyes widened as realization hit him.  He looked at the creature's exposed chest and was finally able to see beyond the cloak of shadows;  somehow he could feel that Hamilton was in there, and that he urgently needed to get him out, but how?

“What's wrong? Have you not a thing to say? Fine, die silent then!” The creature assumed the form of a wolf and striked right in Thomas’ direction, the man felt a burning pain when its claws hit him on the side. 

Black spots flooded his vision as his legs faltered, but the thought of this malevolent being taking over Hamilton’s mind for some reason enraged him more than anything else could. Something ignited within his being, he felt a wave of strength run across the surface of his skin starting from a point behind his neck to the tips of his fingers, which he brought together in front of his chest in the shape of a bird. When his thumbs touched, within an instant all darkness was overflowed by a tropical birds glass mosaic, the dark wolf screamed in agony, changing forms erratically, dissolving and reestabilishing rapidly until it could not anymore- until there was only Hamilton.

Only Hamilton . Curled up and crying, fragile and alone... but free. As abruptly as it came, the tropical kaleidoscope shattered into pieces.

Thomas opened his eyes.

He was in the poorly illuminated room once again, and as much as he hated the place he felt glad for it. 

“Ouch- shit…” He muttered, feeling his right hand hurt badly when he tried to use it to lift from the ground. Apparently, when he fainted, his hand came across some glass shard. It looked awful, but could have been worse- apparently the horrible cut he suffered inside Hamilton’s mind wasn’t real, apart from the hand Thomas was intact.

Oh God, Hamilton is-

Sleeping. The poor idiot was lying against the wall and looked like an angel. For some unexplainable reason he was still mumbling and moving slightly, apparently he couldn’t shut up even when he was asleep. Thomas sighed heavily and appreciated a sight he never thought he would have until something caught his attention.

There was a deeply dark sphere smaller than the palm of his hand resting on the man's lap. He carefully picked up the object to examine it closely, and as soon as his fingers touched the surface he felt a strong tingling, as if it were made up of negative feelings desperately trying to take control of his body.

Well, that's probably exactly what it was.

He squinted his eyes to see better in the dim light and realized that the sphere was not massive. Inside, he saw the form of the wolf he had just annihilated contorted into a horribly broken position.

“That looks painful” He commented, mostly to himself.

“Your face? Yeah, painful to look at…” Hamilton rubbed his eyes aggressively.

“You wake up after almost dying and the first thing you say to your savior is that his face is painful to look at?”

“The hell you’re talking ‘bout?”

“You don’t remember… anything?”

“No? I mean I’m too drunk to- wait-” Suddenly he looked frightened. Hamilton tried to get up and almost fell back, Thomas got up as well to help him stand, but he tried to fight him. “What did we do? WHAT DID WE-”

“Fuck- CALM DOWN” Thomas yelled back, he was not doing that shit again “just- shut up a minute! Jesus…” It was only when Hamilton stared directly at him in absolute terror that Jefferson realized what he was probably thinking. He remembered the man who had left those corridors before he entered, he remembered how he found the Hamilton crying, everything seemed to fall into place and he instantly started stuttering trying to explain that he was mistaken “wait- wait no, that’s not… we were not… you know…”

He eased up a bit hearing Thomas' tone. “Really?”

“Yes. Yes of course why would you even think… Hamilton. What happened before I got here?”

He shrank back a little, looking as vulnerable as before. He clearly didn't want to say anything, but he ended up giving in, probably because he was so fucking tired and how much he wanted to get it over with it.

“I… I had a fight with Jack… John Laurens, a friend of mine, yesterday. I was feeling like shit so I… I took it out on you this morning and somehow it made me feel even more like shit. I came here to unwind. Found a cute guy. Thought ‘bout fucking my suffering away. Almost did that. But then I just didn’t feel like it… I told him so… he was mad, we yelled a bit, but in the end he left and then you came in… thought I was hallucinating. Apparently I was not.” He breathed out. “That’s it. That’s all I remember”

Thomas felt there were still many details missing from this story. Again, for some stupid reason, hearing all that made him angry as if it had happened to him, not to the rival who had been making his work life a complete hell for over a year. He had to hold back the urge to hug the smaller man as he moved back and forth anxiously, glancing over at Thomas from time to time as to assure he was not going to mock him or something like that.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah, that's a long story.”

“Well, I have plenty time. Can’t go back to the apartment I share with John so…”

“Wait a minute, you didn’t go back home after work?”

“I was at work until now. I mean before I came to the pub. What time is it?” He shoved his hand into the pocket of the pink hoodie he was wearing. “ shit - past midnight? How long have we been here?”

“Three hours or so…” As if it were the universe sending a message, they both feel their stomach growl with hunger. Thomas awkwardly looked askance. “Since you can’t go home and I can’t explain what happened alone, would you like to come to my place?”

“What?”

“I said, would you like to-”

“Yeah I heard that it’s just- are you inviting me over?”

“NO. It’s just… Look, it’s going to sound insane, but you need to hear it from the bird or else you’re not gonna believe me”

“hear it from… the bird?” Hamilton repeated flatly. He put his hand on his forehead and closed his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Jefferson.”

“What?”

“I don’t feel well-”

He fainted. Again.

The door opened with a thud that should not have been tolerated at that time of night. The owner of the apartment couldn't do much to stop it, as he had to balance the task of opening the door with carrying his passed out coworker inside, which wasn't so easy, despite him being small and light. Thomas dragged the man as best he could to the sofa, where he deposited him very carefully. He stood back to observe his achievement: Hamilton was sleeping peacefully in his living room. Great.

As if this irony of fate wasn't enough, he frowned when he smelled food in the kitchen.

"Ah, you're here" Dick flew from there and landed on the dining table. "Food's ready."

"Did you... really cook for me?"

"Of course! I promised, didn't I? Always take the word of a mockingbird as guaranteed.” He puffed out his chest with pride. Thomas smiled.

What a day huh.

Chapter Text

“... he’s not dead Dick, for fucks sake-”

“I mean, he’s been sleeping for a while now”

“Could you please just eat your disgusting ball of darkness quietly?”

“That’d just be boring”

“Urgh it’s all over your beak-”

“I’m eating with it so obviously-”

“Finish it already stop torturing me”

“Gimme coffee”

“Can birds even drink it?”

Hamilton’s body hurts. That, along with the ongoing discussion happening near him, is the first thing he notices. He’s also not home, which can be seen when he opens his eyes and comes across a kind of fancy chandelier that he would never, not even with all the money in the world at his disposal, buy to put on the ceiling of his own apartment. He lazily changes position on the couch's comfortable fabric to peek at the two people he heard.

One of them, as he had already recognized by the irritating, arrogant voice, is Thomas Jefferson. The other one is-

Wait.

The hell?

"Is the fucking bird talking-"

"Oh, good morning to you too sunshine" Dick, who is sitting on top of a porcelain plate with something half-eaten in front of him, sarcastically bows to a very confused Hamilton. “Yes I am, very clever of you to notice.”

“Um, Hamilton.” Jefferson seems almost uncomfortable as he stands up, pouring another mug of coffee and moving next to the couch. “Here, take some coffee. You’ll need it.” he readily accepts — mostly because Hamilton wouldn't be Hamilton if he said no to coffee — sitting on the couch to do so. He still feels a little tired, but it's impossible to deny that the extra hours of sleep were good for him. He probably didn't feel this alive in years of sleeping only two to three hours per night.

“So…” After a few sips, he starts talking “you gonna explain this shit?”

“Which part do you want me to start with?”

“How you manage to make coffee taste so bad even though it’s probably more expensive than my entire closet?”

“Haha, very funny” Jefferson avoids looking in his direction as he sits on the couch. “So. The bird. Yesterday when I came home he started talking out of nowhere, claiming that I had to fight Nightmares-”

“The fuck does that even mean-”

“Shush I’m getting there”

“Did you just shush me-”

“Shut up! I didn’t know what he was talking ‘bout either so I said fuck no , but then he told me that if I didn’t, you were going to die. There, you asked me what I was doing there, that’s the answer. Saving your ass.”

“Huh? Why would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Save me. I mean, assuming this is the truth, and I can’t just not believe you considering the fucking -” He points blindly at Dick’s general direction without taking his eyes from Thomas “Why would you fight anything to save me? Thought you hated me.”

“I do.” Aware of Hamilton's sharp gaze, Thomas tries not to cower. He swallows hard, and this doesn't go unnoticed by Alexander. "I do, but I can't just ignore when I have the life of someone in my hands-"

“Not the fucking gentleman behavior-”

“No, it’s normal human being behavior- and I am well educated so I don’t know what you’re onto-”

“I'm not a helpless maiden, I can't understand why you-”

“Can we go back to the part where we explain what happened to this poor Oompa Loompa sized man?” Hamilton would certainly have come up with a response to this insult if it weren't for the shock when the bird flew out of nowhere and landed on his head. He let out an unmanly little scream and threw himself sharply to the side, miraculously not spilling all the coffee on the fancy sofa. Thomas was startled by the scream aswell and sort of jumped away. “What’s wrong guys? One could say I interrupted something nasty and hot-”

“Ok, ok, shut up.” Thomas sighs deeply asking the heavens for patience “Nightmares. Your turn, you explain him this”

“Right, I didn’t have the time to explain exactly what they are to you either, so pay attention. Nightmares in this case are not just bad dreams that you can get rid of as soon as you wake up. I refer to the very human essence, the darkness that you all carry in your heart; It is that for some reason, sometimes this core of negativity that no human being can completely get rid of ends up condensing and gaining its own consciousness. This is more likely to happen to people who have suffered severe trauma, but it is somewhat random anyway. Some cases labeled as "sudden death" are actually Nightmare attacks, which then break free and dissipate in a way too complicated for me to explain, and especially too complicated for your little heads to understand. The important thing is that every time this happens, particles of negativity begin to cluster in the air that people breathe, which makes it even more likely that new Nightmares will form and so on in a chain reaction catalyzed by the product itself. Did you guys follow this far?”

“I-I guess…” Hamilton’s voice is unusually low.

“Great. So, what I do is to consume these Nightmares and convert them to be a part of my own soul. As I am not human, not even mortal, it’s not harmful. I was sent here to help you two destroy the nightmares of New York's inhabitants, which are increasing at an alarming rate. Mother felt the situation would get out of control and sent me here. Any questions?”

“A few, actually.” Hamilton crossed his arms and frowned. “Who is the Mother? What do you mean by “not mortal”? How exactly does one fight and collect these Nightmares for you to consume? Why don’t you do it yourself? Why is it increasing? What did you mean by “you two”?”

“Oh, easy. In order for you to be able to see and gather them, I share with you part of my own soul, making you a little less of a boring ass inferior creature. And what I meant was: well, Tom boy did bring you here, didn’t he? Now you’re involved. Can’t just let you go after getting all this knowledge you shouldn’t have.” Dick said this in a calm and not at all threatening tone. Either way, a kind of pale gleam in the depths of his eyes revealed that this was not an empty statement; this creature is not a mere bird.

“Right… wait, you didn’t answer the other-”

“So, no more questions? Great! You guys should leave now, you know… Y'all be late to work. Come back here together afterwards, next target will be attacked tonight”

After being cut like that, Hamilton was getting ready to fight back when he heard Thomas jump off the sofa with widened eyes. “Shit- we have to go! I forgot, I have a meeting today!”

“But the-”

“We can discuss it later, let’s go”

“I can’t just go to work wearing this!” Hamilton pointed at the pink hoodie and tight jeans he was wearing. This is his ‘emergency party outfit’ that he keeps in the office for situations where he needs to run straight from work to somewhere else without stopping at home, but usually the plan includes getting home at dawn and being able to calmly get ready for the next day of work, not being dragged unconscious to the apartment of some guy he hates.

Jefferson seems to stop and consider his words for a few seconds. The man is already fully dressed and was apparently just waiting for him to wake up. He checks the gold watch on his wrist. "...okay, I can stop by your place first as long as you don't take too long."

“you’ll have to wait for me to finish my makeup”

“Are you serious-”

“-f course not Jeffshit”

Jefferson rolls his eyes before leaving the apartment, followed by Hamilton. Surely Laurens must have already left for work, right? Not that it would be that big of a deal to run into his friend, they live together after all; it would just be a bit awkward. And after last night, the last thing Hamilton needs is this kind of headache.

He sits in the passenger seat next to Jefferson in complete silence. He would never have imagined this situation, getting a ride with him to work. In fact, just seeing him outside of work was already weird, being saved by him and sleeping on his couch? Terrifying. And now being casually driven home like this? Even worse. Hamilton does his best not to think too much about it until they finally stop in front of the building where he lives. Without hesitation, he practically jumps out of the vehicle as if there were thorns in the seat.

"Hamilton, I'm serious, don't take long!" Hamilton hears Thomas shout as he walks quickly towards the lobby. He doesn't bother to respond.

He opens the door as stealthily as he can. He lives on the highest and most spacious floor of the building, something that would normally not be necessary or affordable for someone like him, but the other three friends he lives and shares the rent with are all rich mama's boys with tons of money to spend on unnecessary luxuries. Well, when you're a poor immigrant moving to an unknown place, the opportunity to live in such a cozy apartment cannot be denied.

Still, sometimes it all gets a little too much and he can't help but sneak into some cheap hotel room — usually accompanied by someone — but that's a story for another time.

What matters at the moment is that his secret infiltration mission is quickly thwarted by the presence of Hercules Mulligan, his oldest friend in New York and the first one to offer him shelter when he moved to the city. The tall man with an imposing presence was always very well dressed, even relaxing on the sofa in the morning, which matches the fact that he is one of the most famous tailors in the region that the entirety of New York’s elite seek out when they want to renew their wardrobe — including Jefferson.

“Ah, Alex, decided to come home?” He stretches his body a little to take a good look at his friend, but he does his best not to move too much, as he doesn't want to wake up his boyfriend, Lafayette, who’s napping calmingly on his lap. “Somehow you don’t look like shit as I expected, had a good night?”

“Uh… yeah, one could say that.” Hamilton answers awkwardly, and Hercules raises an eyebrow at him, seeming to suspect that this is far from the whole truth. He shrugs immediately after, because judging by his friend's body language, it doesn't seem like it was that bad.

Is this my fate now? Alexander wonders. Having slept at Jefferson's apartment doesn't make me look like shit?

“Anyway, John already left. Do you want me to drive you to wor-”

“No, I’m good. Thank you Herc.” Hamilton cuts him before sneaking towards his own room as quickly as possible.

Once inside and the door is closed, he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He and John usually go to work together, since they work for the same company. He actually works in the department Hamilton is the head of, and the fact that he didn't wait for him to get home before leaving shows just how tense things are between them.

"Focus, Hamilton. Focus." He slaps his cheeks to keep himself centered before spiraling into overthinking, then he goes search for his clothes, getting ready in less than three minutes. He speeds back across the living room, not giving Hercules a chance to question him about anything.

When he got to the car, he found Jefferson looking really impatient and checking his watch repeatedly. He half expected him to just leave instead of waiting there, and was surprised by the fact that he actually followed through on what he had said. Hamilton had to suppress the thoughts of how lowkey adorable that was.

“Finally.”

“Shut up.” He mumbles in response. Jefferson frowns at his tone.

“Everything alright?”

“Can’t believe you just asked that”

“Me neither.”

With that, the two men continued the rest of the way in complete silence.

He is chewing the back of one of the many cheap pens he has in his office. Many colleagues have asked him why he keeps so many paper writing items around when it is much easier to simply use the computer for that. Many have complained about the long paper documents with the elegant, rushed handwriting that could easily be replaced by an email, but they just don't get it. They don't understand that the fast, frenetic brain of this economist needs certain stimuli to stay focused on the task at hand, and that is the best way to get the focus needed to run a department so crucial to the company's growth.

Except, today, nothing seems to be working.

Hamilton grunts in frustration as he stares at the blank page in front of him. For a whole week he has been trying to come up with a rhetorical response to those who vetoed the prototype of his New Financial Agenda, which would unify all of the company's bank accounts into an integrated system that is easy to manage, or at least easy enough for any competent person to manage. They currently work with a system of scattered bank accounts that require both individual and integrated analysis, a hard task that has already kept the entire finance team awake past time — especially the man who can't leave anything half-done, the head of the department himself.

The biggest problem with the current system, besides the unnecessary difficulty to handle, is the susceptibility to fraud. A major embezzlement scandal has only not happened so far because Hamilton prevents it every day with his own hands, analyzing each of the proposed projects individually, which takes an absurd amount of time that he definitely wouldn't want to waste on details that shouldn't be his business. Because of this, he is so tired and irritated most of the time that his relationship with his coworkers has been undermined to the point of exhaustion.

During the last quarterly meeting, the tension finally reached its limit. He presented a solid project, showed the possibility of its implementation in a way that even a fucking child could understand, and yet he had to watch Jefferson and Madison alternate in speeches that could not be defined by any other word than "populist" and managing to accumulate enough votes within their allies so that the project was not approved in that instance. Hamilton was so outraged, especially when he saw one of his old friends, James Madison, not make the slightest effort to understand how everything he had built did not imply the loss of independence on the part of the departments, much less his own control over them, that he started fighting with everyone. The meeting became an even bigger mess when Jefferson decided to insult him in a sarcastic tone, saying "and what could a foreigner with no name in the field understand about our economy anyway?"

Hamilton was used to receiving this kind of insult. Many people, especially the richy motherfuckers, have said much worse things about his origins, but that day his blood boiled to the point where Laurens had to physically restrain him so that he wouldn't attack the other with clenched fists, wanting to draw blood. Washington quickly dissolved the meeting and gave them both such a long and embarrassing scolding that no situation as serious had ever happened again since.

At least until that moment.

After all, everyone knew that the next quarterly meeting would be the one in which Hamilton would present the reformulated plan. This time, he would already have in mind the main complaints of his adversaries and could be much more threatening to their agenda.

Except he couldn't write anything. Hamilton groaned again and grabbed his hair in desperation, moving his leg under the table repeatedly without being able to focus his thoughts on a specific point. His mind wandered around random statements from his adversaries, especially when Jefferson decided to compare him to Julius Caesar, trying to impute an almost dictatorial image to the finance department.

Caesar, seriously?

That was ridiculous, nonsense. If those two spent even one day having to hold up the sky like Atlas, because that's how Hamilton feels every day, they would understand why they need that plan so much. And Washington wants him to find a middle ground? Impossible. They're being intransigent, so why would he be willing to give up anything?

As Hamilton tries to make sense of the hurricane inside his own head, he realizes something very obvious.

He didn't take his medicine today.

In the rush to get ready, he completely forgot about it, which ironically is typical of him when he is not on medication.

Alexander was diagnosed with ADHD when he was still a child. At that time, his mother, despite going through severe financial struggles, worked twice as hard to provide him with the treatment he needed. She was a strong and loving woman who did everything for her two children, but since after the children's father left home when Alex was only 10 years old, they went through a hellish period that only got worse when their mother, who was everything to them, fell ill.

Today, Alexander has practically no contact with his older brother, James. Their complicated relationship probably got much worse when the younger brother dealt with the trauma and grief of losing his mother in a much worse way than the older one did, and when he was adopted alone by a friend of the paternal family who rejected James for a reason that, at the time, was apparently inexplicable.

Anyway, Hamilton immediately opened the top drawer to take the extra medicine he usually keeps at work for this kind of emergency, only to find the bottle empty.

Of course he would forget to refill the damn emergency medicine.

Frustrated and needing to calm down a bit, Hamilton went to the cafeteria in search of a few dozen coffees or anything else that might spark some inspiration. He was looking for a place to sit with two espressos in his hands when he saw Laurens doing the same. Their eyes met for a few milliseconds, and Hamilton could have sworn he saw all sorts of emotions passing across his face before settling on a slightly mocking, upturned-nose expression, with which he left the place. Alexander couldn't help but feel a wave of anger, because there was no way that that son of a bitch would keep avoiding him because of a stupid little fight that started because he-

"It seems like he doesn't even want to look at your face, huh, Hamilton?"

The sarcastic smile in Thomas Jefferson's unfortunately all-too-familiar voice made him slowly turn to face the source of the sound, at a table behind him. Jefferson was sharing a Dutch pie with James Madison, who maintained a neutral expression.

"Good morning, Hamilton."

"Good morning, Madison."

"Are you really going to ignore me?"

"I was wondering if it was worth answering, and I came to the conclusion that it isn't." Even so, Hamilton sat down in the empty chair at their table. This action seemed to cause a decrease in the noise at the cafeteria, as if the people around wanted to hear what was going to come out of it.

"You don't have to be so rude. I'm just curious, what could you have done that fucked up so bad? You said you didn't even go home yesterday because of that, right?"

"When did he say that?" Madison asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh... he mentioned it... earlier."

"Oh yeah, when you guys arrived together coincidentally." Madison was being sarcastic, and Hamilton noticed. Thomas however just sounded relieved, which was really funny.

"Yes."

"None of your business, Jefferson," Hamilton replies, already halfway through his first espresso.

"I know, and I don't care either." He shrugged. "It's just like you to do some colossal shit and get kicked out of your own house."

"I didn't do anything wrong and I didn't get kicked out. In fact, it happened just once in my life, there was this one time my brother-" He stopped mid-sentence. Hamilton hates talking about his life, especially his childhood. It's a sensitive topic and he usually changes the subject whenever someone decides to question him about it, but when he's not medicated he ends up being even more impulsive, and often can't control his tongue.

"Brother?" Madison asks. He sounds really curious, because despite knowing Hamilton for a few years, he had never heard that he has a brother

"Yeah. You have the same name, by the way." He grips the espresso tightly, trying to keep himself from showing too much nervousness.

"And what's the story?"

"Um... There was this one time, after I was adopted by some of my dad's friends' family, I kind of smuggled my brother into the house because I wanted him to see how cool it was. Okay, kind of stupid, I admit, but I was a kid, and when Thomas found out — why does everyone have the same names in this shithole? — he beat the crap out of us and kicked both me and my brother out. We spent some time camping together. I think that was the last time we really talked before he went back to where he was living and I went back to Thomas’ and Miss Ann's house."

Hamilton went into a sort of absent-minded trance as he told the story, then was surprised when he looked back at the two listeners and found them jaw-dropped.

"Why...?" Jefferson looked almost pitiful . It was infuriating, but Hamilton tried to ignore the look on his face.

"What? Why Thomas didn't like James inside his house? Well- no that I won't say. Too embarrassing. Forget I even told you that. Urg why did I even-"

"Don't be dramatic" Surprisingly that came from Madison.

“Don’t think he’s capable of that”

“You neither” Madison rolls his eyes, Hamilton smirks and casually takes a piece of the pie in front of them. Somehow this was going better than ever, and he’s internally grateful, though he’ll never, ever tell them that. “When did you both start to get along so well?”

Hamilton stopped in the middle of a bite. “Get along?”

“Yes? Did you guys really think that, knowing you both as well as I do, I wouldn’t notice?”

“But- there’s nothing to notice?” Thomas said with a frowned expression. Hamilton tried to read what the fuck that face means, but it was just confusing.

“Don’t get me wrong I’m glad for it, I’m just trying to figure out what could have possibly caused you to act so friendly around each other” He then looked at the two of them with knowing eyes, as if he had understood something that neither of them had been able to understand yet. Hamilton began to feel a little uncomfortable; he hated not understanding something.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Madison” Hamilton stood up. “I have work to do, have a nice day” he said mechanically, out of character. Jefferson and Madison exchanged a quick glance before looking back at him.

“Um… you too?” Barely being able to hear Jefferson's words, Hamilton walked away with large strides, taking with him the second cup of espresso and a piece of pie.

About half an hour of internal rants and trying to resist the urge to bang his head repeatedly against the wall later, Hamilton received a standard company email telling him to come to the conference room because they were hosting a French “diplomatic” guest. During the company’s first year of operation, business alliances with the French were what drove the company’s growth, so it wasn’t all that extraordinary that they would receive a guest like this. What puzzled the finance chief, however, was the fact that he hadn’t been given any advance notice of the visit… or maybe he had been given a heads-up and just forgot? It’s possible, but he usually writes things like that down on a colorful Post-it note and sticks it on his desk, and none of the numerous notes ( he has to remember to stop by the grocery store and buy butter, by the way ) mentions the meeting.

All the department heads were gathered together and chatting animatedly when Hamilton entered the room. If you looked closely, however, you could see that some seemed happier than others: Jefferson was gesturing a lot talking to Madison, which was usually a more reliable indication of his excitement than his facial expression. Monroe was chatting (or rather, unsuccessfully trying) to flirt with Angelica in another corner of the room, which he did only on days of particularly high success. Knox and Adams, on the other hand, wore serious expressions and, like Alexander, tried to read the general mood of the others to determine their own situation. Aaron Burr remained neutral and quiet. Washington was absent.

Hamilton took a deep breath and walked towards one of his closest colleagues, one of those he had met in college and had collaborated on his projects ever since. John Jay was a valuable ally mainly because he had important contacts and knew how to motivate the right people to make something work in his favor, besides being very sensible and his values ​​coinciding with Alexander's. Therefore, the easiest way to find out exactly what the objective of all this was and to devise strategies would be talking to him.

Jay was a short, thin man who sometimes looked like he was about to faint due to low blood pressure. His pale skin contrasted with small, deep-set black eyes that were very charismatic, and his brown hair was always elegantly styled. As soon as he saw Hamilton approaching, he smiled and waved.

“Alex! Come here, I have news for you”

“‘sup Jay, I was about to ask”

The two standed next to each other. Jay was near the coffee machine and promptly handed one to Hamilton, indicating that he was expected. It was a cordial habit he had acquired ever since, well, ever since he noticed Alexander’s insatiable addiction to caffeine.

"The news aren't great, at least for us. We've been trying to end, or at least cut the contract with the French for a while and they're getting desperate. For what I heard, they're sending Genêt here"

"And who the fuck is Genêt?" 

"Oh, you're too young to know him"

"You're literally one year older than me"

"I mean in the business, Alex. Coming from a family of businessmen and women has its advantages." He smiled in a mocking way that would normally make Hamilton angry, but honestly he was already used to it. "Genêt has been a business legend for decades. He has a business management company and belongs to the most refined social circles in France, until one day some controversies began to arise due to accusations of embezzlement and tax evasion."

"Wait, what?"

"Exactly what you heard. The problem is that none of this was ever proven, and since he had many important friends even in the government, he got away with it and with his reputation practically unscathed. Of course he had to tone it down a bit and try to appear less, but he is still a very strong name and still has a legion of fans here in America. Look at Jefferson, for example." Jay pointed out discreetly, "The guy is almost jumping of joy. Well, he is already a Francophile by nature, but Genêt's family has very old ties to his family. Old money, money from somewhat questionable sources, if you know what I mean."

"So, they sent the French Taylor Swift of business here to try and coerce us to not break the contract with them? That's ridiculous, what's the point of keeping up with a boat bound to sink? Since they changed the head of the corporation from Louis to that Robshit guy the shares are devaluating like shit, he’s violently massacring the fucking thing."

"Well, guess you're gonna find out that many here actually like Robespierre and wish to support the French through the crisis"

"They're dumb. Immature at least. We can’t afford it, do they happen to think my job is to play tetris with our bank accounts the fucking entire day"

"Convince Washington of that then" he turned to face Alexander. This was beginning to get dangerously close to a topic that had infuriated Hamilton to his guts since the beginning of his career: people assumed he had some kind of special control over their boss, consequently diminishing his worth by not believing he was responsible for his own success through sheer competence. Since this was Jay speaking, he could overlook it as his colleague simply knowing that Hamilton’s eloquence was unmatched and usually led them in the right direction, but it was still unsettling when allies and enemies alike spoke as if Washington were blindly in the palm of his hand, as if he were a natural manipulator who had somehow (seriously some of the rumors were straight up bizarre) managed to convince the intelligent, haughty man that his ideas should always be followed.

“I’ll see what I can do” He chose to give a vague answer, and Jay shrugged.

“I don’t think I have to convince you. Knowing you, you’ll hate the guy anyways.”

He chuckled and finished his coffee "I already do. Nothing good can come from someone Jefferson admires"

Almost as if by premonition, at that moment the room fell silent at the soft spoken voice of George Washington.

"Attention, please." That was all he needed to say to get everyone's attention. "I have gathered you all here, as you know, to welcome our... collaborator." He glanced slightly toward Hamilton, who was watching intently. "I hope you can provide a warm welcome to Edmund-Charles Genêt, who will be here to negotiate with us over the next few months."

Hesitation.

Most people probably wouldn't be able to notice in Washington's deep, imposing voice the subtle fluctuations that indicated his feelings. Much less would they be able to read in every look, gesture, and expression he used intentions hidden from the general public, but Hamilton was different. His relationship with Washington was unique; he was his right-hand man. He often wrote his speeches, business emails, and other things; It was possible to say that, in part, the leadership of this company was an inseparable coalition of the two men rather than the boss as an individual, and this only worked because Hamilton was very good at what he did and had Washington's unlimited trust as a result of the services he had provided.

That's why, when the boss stepped aside to reveal the fat man with completely white hair, a round red nose and small eyes that reminded him of a pig, Hamilton was not fooled by the cordiality and friendliness: Washington had already formed an opinion about all this, and it was not positive. Genêt greeted everyone with a cordial wave and spoke with a thick accent.

"American friends! You can't imagine how happy I am to be back in this country, what an excellent and welcoming atmosphere you have here! I was just saying to George, Europeans are too cold, everyone in that place walks around as if they had shit under their noses." A considerable number of the department chiefs present joined in the high-pitched chuckle that he let out. Hamilton and Jay looked at each other. What the fuck am I watching? Alexander telegraphed with his expression. I tried to warn you , Jay responded with his own.

After a long speech full of flourishes, Genêt left, followed by a legion of fans excited to talk business. Hamilton was so silent it was strange for someone like him, but knowing him, Jay just laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

"See you Alex, I could use a good amount of alcohol now and I think you could too. Although you'll probably spend the next few hours working like a madman."

"Um, actually-"

Before he could argue, Jay's eyes wandered to a figure behind him, and Hamilton turned around. Washington was standing there with an unfathomable expression on his face, and with just one look from him, Jay left with a nod.

"Alexander, could you come to my office?"

"Yessir-, um... actually no, sir, sorry. I have a... meeting soon, I won't be able to work overtime today." 

Washington's eyes widened slightly in extreme surprise, and Alexander shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Not only was it odd to deny a direct request from his boss, but he and 'not being able to work more hours than my paycheck says' don't mix. 

"May I ask what kind of meeting this is?" His expression returned to its usual impassiveness, but his tone of voice revealed a hint of humor. 

"I'm afraid not, sir. It's personal." 

"If you have a date you can tell me, son." 

"Not a date. Not your son. Please excuse me" 

"Of course, I wouldn't wish you to be late for... whatever it might be" An uncharacteristic thin smile played on his lips as Alexander quickly walked away. Already in the hallway, another person approached and began walking beside him.

“Well, well, did I hear it correctly? You have a date?”

“Angelica. It was a pleasure to talk to you, but unfortunately I have to go, have a nice day” He said playfully. The woman laughed and didn’t leave.

“Fuck off! It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me yet. More importantly: we need to do something about Genêt. I mean, not him specifically, but his supporters will be a problem.”

“You mean Jefferson, Madison and Monroe.”

“Yes. I won’t take much of your precious time now…” Hamilton rolled his eyes at her. “But we need to do something. You saw their reaction when Genêt showed up, the applause and laughter at everything he said... I fear that the passionate hearts of our colleagues may end up ruining everything, you know better than anyone what investing too much time and money in a venture doomed to failure can do to a company like ours, we can't risk making mistakes." Hamilton listened in silence as they walked towards his office, where he wanted to organize some documents in advance that might be useful later. He opened the door for the two of them to enter.

"I know, Ang. But for now there's nothing we can do. That first speech was just a prelude to what he really wants to propose, we have to wait at least until the next meeting." As he spoke, Hamilton frantically gathered an absurd amount of papers and stuffed them into a large folder. Then he went to the cabinets to look for other documents related to the bank accounts he needed.

"And this time you won't be able to convince me to seduce Jefferson to get what you want." Angelica leaned against the desk, Hamilton laughed and turned to her.

"I suggested that clearly as a joke and you instantly tried it."

"And all I could find out is that he's gay, what a shame." She sighed and lowered her head dramatically. Of course she was just making a scene — it's not like she was truly upset or anything like that.

"Bad taste." Hamilton shook his head as he read one of the papers.

"Even you can agree that he's hot Alex, don't play dumb."

"Absolutely not"

"Frankly, don't you guys argue because in reality you wanna kiss him? 'Cause seriously, the amount of sexual tension-"

"The fuck' you talking 'bout?"

"Well, since you want me to elaborate-"

"Hamilton?" They both startled and turned to face the door when Thomas fucking Jefferson suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He knocked on the door and opened it instantly, widening his eyes when he realized Angelica's there. “Um…”

“What are you doing here…?” Angelica grinned mischievously.

“You’re looking for… this, aren’t you?”

Before she could come to any conclusion, Hamilton pulled one of the papers from the financing folder and shoved it into Thomas's hand, who looked at the document in confusion and then at Alexander, who seemed to be shouting "For fuck’s sake, just get out of here!" With his eyes.

"Ah- Ah, yes... you approved it without any caveats?" There was no time to add caveats yet, you idiot, but I have no choice! That's what he wanted to say. But the way Thomas's eyes immediately brightened up left him completely disarmed. He could feel a burning sensation taking over his cheeks, which was certainly the fault of Angelica's completely wrong assumption. Definitely. "I didn't know you were capable of being reasonable. Thank you."

"Just shut up and go away now before I change my mind."

“Sure thing. See you tomorrow Angelica.” He waved at her before leaving, clearly very happy with himself. What an asshole.

They stayed in an awkward silence before Angelica finally moved. She walked towards the door “I’ll leave as well. Later you’ll tell me what and who’s making you go home in normal human time today”

If I told you whose home I’m going to…

“You can wait for it”

“As if you could keep a secret from me, Alexander”

Later, Hamilton found Thomas waiting for him outside. There was something hilarious about the way the man waited: leaning against the wall, discreetly looking around with his hands in his pockets and about the way he walked quickly to the car as soon as he saw him, without saying anything. Alexander followed soon after.

"You look like a drug dealer."

"How the hell did your mind come to that conclusion?"

"advanced scientific observation. Have weed?"

Jefferson groaned and started the car.

As soon as they entered the apartment, they discovered that it was definitely not the same as they had left it in the morning. Several of Jefferson's belongings were thrown around, mainly clothes. A lot of microwave popcorn (which, by the way, had not been in the kitchen cupboard before) was scattered across the floor. Thomas stared at the mess in horror, and for a moment he even considered the possibility that he was hallucinating, but that possibility was dispelled as soon as the obvious perpetrator of this vandalism jumped onto the arm of the sofa.

"Ah! You two. Geez Thomas, you have quite the homosexual bookshelf"

"What have you done..."

"Reading! And eating some popcorn. What kind of idiot doesn't have popcorn at home? I had to go buy it myself"

Thomas approached the sofa and almost screamed. His precious special edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray was soiled with greasy bird paw prints, as was the seat of the sofa and his favorite pajamas. He stared in silent disbelief as Dick spoke, this time to Hamilton.

"Do you know how hard it is to carry a bucket of popcorn around being a bird? Unfortunately some fell off to the ground and I had to make more, and more... what a shameful waste of food. And I wanted to get a little comfy so I looked into Tom's cabinet to get some smooth clothes and make a nest! Brilliant, isn’t it?"

“Dick, man, I don’t know what to say you’re my favorite person in the world right now” Hamilton couldn’t stop giggling as he looked around the absolute destruction of Jefferson’s perfectly aligned life.

“Awn, thank you! But I’m not a person. I’m more than that”

“You’re a fucking god to me I adore you”

“Fuck you. Fuck the both of you. Hope yall perish in the fires of hell”

“I don’t know man, you’re the one with five different Dorian Gray’s editions…” Dick listed out with the feathers of his wing.

“Each is special for a reason! The one you ruined comes with Oscar Wilde’s complete biography-”

“... And The Song of Achilles next to the Iliad’s bilingual edition…”

“I was learning Greek-”

“An entire section dedicated to queer coded vampire stories…”

“Don’t you DARE calling Anne Rice’s books queer ‘coded’ -”

“The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, Red, White & Royal Blood… are you secretly a teenage delusional-romantic girl? Be honest.”

“Ok, ok enough ! Don’t we have more important shit to do?” He finally gave up arguing with the bird as he was clearly losing.

“Oh, you’re right! You have two hours maximum ‘till the attack. And the target is…” Dick paused dramatically, spreading his wings (and spilling more popcorn on the floor) "Benjamin Tallmadge!"

“Who?” Jefferson frowned. “Should I recognize this name?”

Hamilton, on the other hand, gasped. “The lawyer?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my God. Does that mean his life is in our hands? Fuck, Jefferson, we need to go”

“Wait! Before you go, Alex, I need to give you part of my soul so you’ll be able to see and fight the Nightmares.” Dick said before going back to the pajama nest.

“Not again-” Thomas turned his back to the sofa

Hamilton just stood there in confusion and then disgust as the bird started making noises he didn’t want to hear ever again. He watched the bird twitch a little and a shiny ball was deposited in the nest, the miracle of bird life, except this one had a human male voice which made the situation not very pleasant. Dick stood up and took a deep breath of relief.

“There, eat it”

“Are you fucking insane-”

“Can’t believe you’ll let Thomas be stronger than you, he had no problem with it, ya know?”

A smirk formed at the corner of Dick's mouth. He waited for the exact moment Hamilton opened his mouth to complain and deny that obvious lie because any human being who spent more than two seconds with Thomas Jefferson would know that OF COURSE he wouldn't take that well before quickly flying over and shoving the blue ball down his throat. Hamilton choked until he turned red, and Thomas patted him sympathetically on the back saying I know. You'll get over it.

"What. The. FUCK was that???" He choked out.

"How do you expect me to share it? Telepathically? I could if your human brains weren't so lame"

“Anything less barbaric than… than that !”

“What’s barbaric about it? Don’t you enjoy eating eggs?”

“Not the same thing. But- I guess we can continue this discussion later” Hamilton massaged his neck for a bit "So, where do we go?"

"Little Ben is going to send a gift to his friend upstate, a girl called Anna Strong, so you're going to the mail. After he ship it, poor guy will suddenly start to feel dizzy and bum, collapse and die- unless, of course, you guys save him first"

“Fuck, that sounds awful. Let’s go”

“Wait, won’t you tell me who he is?”

“I tell you on the way”

“But-”

“tic toc tic toc… time’s running, stop stalling Tom” Dick flew to the table. “I’ll take care of your apartment for ya, don’t worry”

“Fuck y- hey!” Thomas was about to protest when he was pushed out by Hamilton. 

Inside the car, he started talking.

“So, Tallmadge is a famous lawyer. We studied in the same university, I know him because he has won several highly regarded awards in the advocacy field. Also, he is trans and very vocal about the rights of the LGBT+ community, represents causes related to the community for a symbolic price and such, and has very interesting outreach work, look.”

“Don’t- don’t put your fucking phone in front of me while I’m driving ”

“Skill issue”

“Traffic violation”

“Anyways, he has more than a million followers on instagram… oh, look at this pic of his cat”

“Stop that!”

Hamilton continued scrolling through his feed ignoring Jefferson completely "the events and lectures he organizes are always very well publicized and I have attended many of them myself. He is one of the few people who truly deserve all the attention they receive, in fact he deserves even more."

Few people had the privilege of being admired by Alexander Hamilton. Being such a well-known and sought-after lawyer at such a young age requires talent, a type of talent that Hamilton approves of more than any other characteristic in a person, and Ben Tallmadge had it in spades. 

All that considered, the question sprout:

"If he is so successful, happy, full of friends and cats, then why the Nightmare?" Jefferson brought up as soon as the other one finished. In fact, Hamilton had also been wondering the same thing ever since Dick mentioned his name.

"Well... Dick said it could be kind of random, maybe that's why. Also, he must keep aspects of his personal life private, maybe the only way to really know a person is to find their private Twitter." He purposely used a dark and mysterious tone that made Jefferson look in his direction out of the corner of his eye.

"I fear what you meant by that."

Thomas stopped the car a few meters from the post office, and Hamilton immediately began scanning the area for their target. Through the glass facade, he could see that only few people were moving around to receive and send packages, but he couldn't find who he was looking for.

"Did we end up getting here before him?" Hamilton asked as they got out of the car.

"Dick said we had two hours, so it's very likely. Should we just stay here and watch?"

"Like two weirdos?"

"You say it as if following someone so you can get into their mind and fight a fucking Nightmare isn't weird enough."

"I'm glad you brought that up. Been wanting to ask you for hours. What exactly happened inside my mind?" He intended to make it sound carefree and casual, but his tone was clearly forced. Jefferson shifted uncomfortably and walked around the car, leaning his back on the side next to Hamilton.

Jefferson began to narrate what had happened the night before. He told him about the world made of drawings, the mysterious child with the dreadful lines (at this point, Hamilton fell into a deadly silence that scared even the man who had always wanted him to shut up) and the wolf made of darkness. After all this, they fell into an uncomfortable and restless silence; on one hand, Jefferson really wanted him to show some reaction, because the emptiness with which he was observing the interior of the post office was disturbing, and on the other, he feared what kind of reaction he would have.

There is already a very fine line in the situation they find themselves in. Having run to save Alexander Hamilton and then having him sleep under his roof was a situation that Thomas could tolerate, it was necessary after all.

But comforting Hamilton?

That would be...

That would be what?

In fact, reanalyzing the situation, what scared Jefferson most was not the prospect of having to act as a grounding point for the other, but rather the fact that he already wanted to do it just by thinking about having to do it.

“At least it took a wolf to take me down” He said flatly after almost five long minutes of silence. Jefferson had to hold back laughter.

“Dumbass, it almost killed me”

“Can relate sometimes”

“Sometimes?” Thomas shot back playfully, turning to face him. Their eyes met for a second before he inevitably shifted his gaze slightly to another spot on Hamilton's face. “Not always?”

“No, not always.” Hamilton’s sincerity shocked them both. Thomas was about to say something — even him doesn't know what that would be — when Alexander cut “look! He’s going inside”

Somewhere between the storytelling and the playful mockery, a man about 5’5” tall with blonde hair, vivid blue eyes and a remarkable naturally pinkish and delicate shaped mouth walked down the street holding a large cardboard package. He was clearly not paying much attention to his surroundings, because he didn't notice when Alexander pointed and almost yelled in his direction to catch Thomas’ attention to something that wasn't his blushing face.

They watched as the man entered the post office in a hurry.

“Ok, should we follow him?” Jefferson asked, really unsure.

“I dunno, you're the expert here smartass”

“Stop pretending you don’t want to be the leader, I unfortunately know you too well for that”

Hamilton gave him that cute little chuckle and Jefferson thought that was a sound he could get accustomed to. They waited quietly until the man came out of the post office after sending what he needed to send. Now, it definitely seemed like there was something wrong with him, because even though he hadn't done anything to cause it, he was pale, sweaty and panting a little, as if he were sick. Benjamin took a few staggering steps down the sidewalk before Hamilton finally decided to do something.

"Wait, what are we going to-?"

"Hey! Benjamin Tallmadge, is that you?" Hamilton simply ran towards him without thinking twice. Normally, a person who can't keep his opinions to himself, is irritable and sees his own worth wouldn't be described as someone who easily makes friends, after all people rarely like someone who doesn't stroke their egos, but it was precisely these energetic characteristics that made Hamilton someone extremely charismatic, it was a mystery how he got so many enemies.

Tallmadge was startled by the sudden approach, but he recognized the talkative lawyer who occasionally appeared at the gatherings a couple of years ago. "Ah... Hamilton, isn't it?"

“Yessir!” Hamilton held out his hand for Tallmadge to shake. His grip was weak and shaky, causing a genuine expression of concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Actually… no, not at all. I don’t know what happened, but my head feels… weird.”

“You should go see a doctor then, right? We can give you a ride!” Hamilton started talking before he even had a chance to finish. Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Jefferson mumbled as he got closer. Trust me was the answer.

“We?” Tallmadge then noticed Thomas’ presence, who looked away and fumbled a little with his words.

“Thomas Jefferson, nice to meet. We work together.” He summed up.

“Work, huh? Well, guess I could take the ride-”

“Ok! Let's go Jefferson.” Hamilton, who was still holding Tallmadge’s hand, started pulling him toward the car. Not having much of a choice, Jefferson followed.

"Wait! You don't have to take me to the hospital, I was going to my friend's house, drop me off there." He tried to protest as he was being shoved into the back seat.

Once the kidnapping (kinda) was practically ready, Jefferson and Hamilton simultaneously looked at the backseat. Benjamin was frowning and quieter than before, the silence inside the car seemed to grow heavier and heavier by the second. Jefferson felt a shiver as he remembered the situation in that dark warehouse with Hamilton, when the latter began to panic and grabbed his arm and everything began to spin.

This time, there was no warning.

One moment Benjamin was staring at his lap, motionless. The next instant, he stared at the two who were sitting in the front seats and his previously blue eyes were pitch black. That emptiness began to spread, and Hamilton and Jefferson suddenly could no longer see, hear or feel anything. All they could register was the presence of each other and Benjamin, who remained standing in the same place.

Before they even had time to despair, the scene changed drastically.

The blue sky dotted with clouds as white as the sand beneath their feet flooded their unaccustomed vision. The sound of the ocean waves gently advancing and retreating overwhelmed their hearing, and the wind making fine grains splash against their bodies was so realistic that they had no choice but to truly believe that they were suddenly transported to-

"The beach?" Hamilton's incredulous voice was followed by the squawking of a few seagulls that flew just above them towards the vast blue-green sea.

"Why are we wearing this?" In any other situation, it would be perfectly normal to be wearing shorts and tank tops on a beach, but that was definitely not the case, since neither of them had been wearing them two seconds ago.

Hamilton didn't mean to stare, but when his eyes fell on Thomas Jefferson’s muscular arms exposed to him for the first time, he couldn’t help but feel even hotter. To make this even worse, the man flexed his arms nonchalantly as if to get used to the feeling of being able to move again. Compared to this divine sight, Hamilton’s thin, delicate arms looked ridiculous, and he tried in vain to hide them with his hands, crossing them in front of his chest.

"It's good we are... I mean, bad. I hate it."

"I don't mind the clothes but this... this is awful" He pointed to the sand under his feet. His expression was clearly uncomfortable, as if walking on it caused him actual pain or something.

"It seems to be a dock over there. We can go figure out what the fuck's going on here"

Thomas started to quickly tip-toe towards the direction as soon Hamilton pointed. About a thousand feet ahead there was a dark wooden small dock with some boats on it. It wasn’t a fancy structure, more like something you’d find on a small, sparsely populated island. Hamilton had seen plenty of this, at least on the non-touristy side of Nevis, where he was born and lived before moving to the nearby island of Saint Christopher.

“Holy shit… haven’t been to a beach in a long time, this kind of walk used to be a piece of cake.” Hamilton collapsed onto the warm wood as soon as they arrived. Thomas moved away a little to try to get as much sand off his feet as he could.

“Used to go to the beach a lot?”

“I was born on a Caribbean island, idiot, what do you think?” Hamilton shifted and lay down on his stomach. “There was no shortage of beaches there. In fact, that was pretty much it.”

“Where were you born again? Cuba? Puerto Rico?”

"The fuck? No. It was in the middle of nowhere, in Nevis."

"I have no idea where that is."

"Expected that from you." That came out more aggressively than Hamilton had intended. He wouldn't normally describe himself as someone to hold a grudge, but comments about his birthplace really bothered him, and Thomas had made plenty of them in the past. Jefferson was silent for a long time before he stood up and walked away from the water.

"Hey."

"What."

"If you want to... tell me about it..." He said sheepishly. Hamilton had to literally look up to believe what he was hearing.

"For what? So you can use it against me at some random meeting?" Again, he didn’t intend to sound so defensive, but this conversation was really getting into him.

"No! Look, I never really meant to offend you..."

“Says the one who offends me the most!”

"Oh, don't exaggerate" Jefferson crossed his arms — now sweaty and shiny, not that Hamilton was looking — wanting to defend himself.

"Don't try to lecture me about what should or should not offend me-"

Before they could engage in an actual fight, the two stopped when a noise of leaves moving came from the dense forest that extended across the sandy bed as far as the eye could see. Hamilton quickly stood up and they looked at each other, then focused their attention on the spot where the leaves were moving. From the middle of the vegetation a small, quadrupedal animal ran at full speed across the sand, even though its hooves were not adapted to that type of ground, making it look clumsy. Jefferson and Hamilton had no time to react before the animal tripped on the edge of the pier and rolled right next to them, causing the two to scream and move as far away as possible.

"Don't look at me, don't look at me! How embarrassing, my God, this embarrassing! Please don't look, I'm horrid, I'm..." The animal cried non-stop and talked. Oh, great, another talking animal.

When its trembling form began to stand up and sway slightly from side to side, they recognized that it was a deer. Since it had no antlers and was small, one could assume it was a female, but... "everything wrong with me, everything wrong... why don't I have antlers? It would all be so much easier if I only had one good pair of antlers, c-can I die from embarrassment?..."

In the face of the flood of words that poured out of that creature, even the talkative Hamilton fell silent. When the deer noticed that they were staring despite it telling them not to, it let out a heart-rending cry and hid awkwardly under its thin legs.

“H-hey, don’t be afraid, we won’t harm you!” Hamilton never imagined he would try to comfort a fucking deer, but whatever. The animal glanced at him before hiding its face again.

“Careful. It can be dangerous” Thomas whispered, remembering the child that looked harmless until it turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Literally.

“Dangerous?!” The deer yelled and looked around. “Where??”

“Nowhere! Don’t mind what he says, look at me. W-what are you so ashamed about anyway? You look like a perfectly normal deer to me, you’re pretty!” Alexander smiled as gently as he could, although his face was trembling from time to time.

“I’m not pretty! I’m a man!!!”

Oh… so that’s what’s happening here…

“Is it me or the deer is… dysphoric?” Mister Thomas obvious Jefferson asked out loud. The deer looked instantly offended.

“I’m not- I’m not that! Whatever that is! Embarrassing, embarrassing!… I shouldn’t live with the flock, no one should ever look at me! Stay away, go away!” In a frenzy, the deer ran wildly toward the forest. Hamilton tried to yell at it to stop, but it was useless.

It was useless because the deer never had a chance to stop.

When it had run more than halfway, a huge shadow appeared out of nowhere right above it, and a winged creature the size of a giraffe fell from the sky like a meteor, swallowing the poor creature's small body whole along with a handful of sand. The two men watched in shock as the creature stretched its enormous, thin neck upward, snapping its sharp beak and spreading its cartilaginous wings in a terrifying display of power.

Its head had a protuberance at the base of its beak, and the purple spots on its side were the only thing that didn't look like it had been forged from the very essence of a shadow. Its body was thin and disproportionate to the size of its neck, and it was possible to see, in its puffed-out chest, the ribs showing through the skin. The thing closed its wings and stood in a quadrupedal position that didn't seem very natural to it, not that anything about it did anyway.

It looked straight at them.

Fuck.

"Hamilton, listen to me, as soon as it takes flight we need to run to the forest." Thomas's urgent voice snapped Alexander out of the trance he was in. Without many options and sweating cold, he nodded his head in a sign that he understood. "I know what that is, it's a quetzalcoatlus."

"And what the fuck is that?"

"A type of pterosaur that lived in North America during the Cretaceous, it is the largest animal recorded in the geological history of the Earth with a wingspan of 12 meters and weighing about 450 pounds, which is absurd for a creature that flies-"

"Okay you fucking nerd, I get it, what do we do about this shit?"

"There's no way of knowing, no one has ever seen anything like this alive! But I'm guessing it relies heavily on its vision, so we need to hide in dense forest. Also, for an animal this size to be able to take flight from the ground, its chest muscles would have to be incredibly developed, so it's likely that it always jumps from a high place or at least has to run a few meters to-"

Before he could finish speaking, the quetzalcoatlus grunted horribly loudly in a way that sounded very much like a goose honking, spread its wings and voila- took off fast without any struggle! Paleontologists would be fascinated because this shouldn't be possible — for Thomas Jefferson, however, this was the greatest example of "well, fuck" he had ever experienced in his life.

“RUN!”

They ran past the creature as it screamed and turned 360 degrees in the air to chase them. Halfway there, its shadow was already just behind them, and they had to make a huge effort to run as fast as they could without looking back.

With a much better-prepared body and longer legs, Jefferson was the first to reach the edge of the forest. He turned around and the sight he had was terrifying: Hamilton was running for his life with frightened eyes and arms stretched out ahead, while the gigantic beast was just a few meters away from reaching him. Jefferson immediately threw his hands forward and grabbed the other by the forearm, pulling him on top of himself and falling backwards at the exact moment the creature's entire head passed right above them, where their heads had previously been.

They began to quickly crawl into the forest while the dinosaur writhed, trying to fit its large wings and body between the vegetation. After a few frustrated screams, the creature finally gave up and flew away again, probably hoping to have an opportunity to attack them from above. Thomas continued to drag Hamilton through the trees until he found a "safe" place, or at least as safe as possible.

They were both exhausted, with sore muscles and shaking with fear. Many scratches spread across their skin, and that pain was more than enough to remind them that this was no joke — they could probably be killed for real, and only God — or rather — only Dick knows what could happen to them if they died there.

“That was… so fucking close.” Hamilton rubbed his face so hard it turned red. “How do you know so much about that thing?”

“Um… I had a huge hyperfixation on dinosaurs growing up. I know, fucking cliché , but I still have the realistic resin miniatures my parents gave me all ‘round my room… the quetzalcoatlus is- was my favourite, its miniature is hanging right above my bed… guess I’ll have to burn that thing when I get home” Neither of them wanted to talk about how ‘ when I get home’ seemed distant right now. “Gonna judge me?”

“For what? Being autistic?” Hamilton said it bluntly. Thomas was a little perplexed by the way he just let it out like that.

“No- I mean, yeah… kinda. I mean, I never told you that so… kinda shocking the fact you don’t seem surprised”

“I- well, I confess, I asked Madison about it a week after meeting you.” Jefferson couldn't tell what he was more surprised about, the fact that he had never used this information against him or the fact that James had told him about it. “What’s with that face? I’ve ADHD, I know what masking looks like and you’re the fucking personification of it”

“That’s-”

“Worried I’d be an asshole about it? Madison only told me because he knew I wouldn’t.” Hamilton stared into the forest, not looking at anything specific, just lost in thought. “You think so little of me it’s ridiculous. That’s just the same reason I wouldn’t try to use your sexuality against you- I mean in that case it would backfire but still, I wouldn’t.”

They fell into a kind of reflective silence. Thomas was trying to process those words... he had thought that Hamilton hated him and would do anything to hurt him, whether it was trying to doubt his ability to do his job, belittling his importance and value, and especially his appearance. He imagined that the only reason he hadn't used even more personal stuff like sexuality was precisely because everyone knows that it wouldn't be very effective for obvious reasons, not that it was because of some moral principle. It was at that exact moment that he realized he had simply assumed that the other had no morals at all .

And he felt ashamed of it. Very ashamed.

Embarrassment flooded his veins and his face burned. He parted his lips and stayed like that for several seconds before speaking.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?” Hamilton almost didn’t believe in what his ears were hearing, but when he met Thomas’ gaze he did not look away. He mean it. He is sorry. And he needs Alexander to understand it.

“I had… I had the wrong idea about you this whole time. In the end I was the asshole, I was the one calling out on personal stuff unrelated to work to try and diminish your effort, and I… I feel so bad about it. I don’t agree with you, but that’s not an excuse for what I said about, you know, about your nationality and… gosh I’m as bad as Adams!” That last part sounded so desperate that they both let out a little chuckle.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what he says about you behind your back”

“What do you mean?” He was still giggling a bit, but stopped as soon as he saw the dead serious look on Hamilton’s face.

“Jefferson… He’s literally racist”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“He did call you something… bad” Thomas reflected, recalling a situation where for some reason Adams was furious and called him a 'creole bastard' in private. At the time he got really uncomfortable and told him to tone down, but honestly he wishes he had done more.

“I guarantee you he’s said worse about you. I keep some friends of mine close to him, ‘cause you know, keep your enemies closer and shit, and they tell me things. It’s really useful.”

“Since when??”

“We’re drifting away from the original topic.” Hamilton quickly changed the subject. He was a master at deflecting from the original topic, but this time it was best not to go into details.

“You’re right. So… I was saying I’m really sorry for not even trying to be polite. The day we met, for example, I told you to shut up because you talked too much, remember?”

“Yes, I do.” Hamilton kind of shrank into himself, hugging his knees as he listened to the other speak. He was also starting to feel his heart heavy with shame, and he needed to get it out.

“Washington had spoken so highly of you that, I confess, I was a little envious. Before that, James had given me terrible bad reviews of the direction you wanted to take the company, and those two things made a mixture of disgust and accumulated anger from all the years I had spent away from the main action and you... seemed so genuinely excited to meet me that I got angry, I got angry because that wasn't the image I had conceived in my head and I would feel less bad hating someone who was more hateful so I... looked for something to hate. Does that make sense?” Jefferson practically regurgitated the words, leaving no room to regret having said them. After a short pause, Hamilton laughed low and humorlessly.

“More than you think. I also… I have to say something. It’s not entirely your fault, I know I am a pain in the ass. I have an incredibly difficult time letting people get genuinely close to me. Maybe it's because I'm so traumatized and broken that there's no saving me, but... when you pushed me away like that I gladly grabbed the chance to just be a jerk back to you, because that's a lot easier to deal with. You haven't been fighting the wall this whole time, you know, I've been an asshole to you too.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a small orange light shone just below the line of their eyes. A golden sphere — well, actually "golden" would be an exaggeration, it was more like a greenish ocher, a sickening color — floated between them. Its surface was filled with dark humanoid figures that floated embarrassedly in this fluid and solid mass at the same time, a contradiction of nature that should not exist.

"What is this...?" Hamilton reached out to touch it, but the sensation in his fingers was so uncomfortable that he immediately pulled his hand away.

"Shame." Jefferson answered abruptly, as if his brain had finally put the pieces together. "This thing... is a condensation of our shame. Do you remember how the deer was embarrassed when the quetzalcoatlus tracked down and attacked it? What if that creature feeds on shame?"

"So this is... bait?"

"I was thinking more like poison, when it’s like that. I think this is the solution to this Nightmare, the way to kill it... just like when I made that colorful thing in your mind."

"So, in that case, each Nightmare has its own way of being killed? If this one has to do with shame, then what...?" Hamilton let the question trail off in the air. This was not the right time to think about his own mystery, they needed to focus on getting out first. “Anyway, we need to get this to that fucker, right? How do we do that?”

The beast's shrill snarl proved that at least part of their theories were correct. Through the canopy of trees, a shadow passed directly above where they stood, they were found. The only thing keeping them alive at the moment was the inability of the large, lumbering dinosaur to descend directly upon them.

Hamilton grabbed the orb of embarrassment despite the horrible feeling and stood up, helping Jefferson to his feet.

"Okay Jeffshit, here's the plan: you're going to distract that thing and as soon as it's about to grab you, as soon as it opens its mouth, I'm going to throw this right down the son of a bitch's throat!"

"Why me?? Are you crazy?" Jefferson immediately objected.

"You're much more capable of running away from it than I am, longlegs. Trust me." Hamilton stared at him with such determination that Jefferson had no choice but to sigh and accept.

"Ok... let's do this."

They ran through the forest again, this time towards the beach. The sun was starting to set on the horizon, which made them wonder how long they had been hiding and talking, because what seemed like a very short time could have been an eternity. Reaching the edge of the forest, Hamilton stopped. He signaled with his hand how Jefferson should run, turn around and come back towards him, causing the dinosaur to fly low towards them just like the first time. Pretty easy, right? That wasn't Thomas's opinion on the matter, but they didn't have time to waste. 

Jefferson took two deep breaths before running out into the open. He thought about shouting a little to attract the Nightmare, but it wasn't necessary, because as soon as he was visible beyond the cover of the trees, the quetzalcoatlus screamed triumphantly and dove towards him. With no time to think, Thomas practically skidded on the sand as he made the wide turn, and the wind that the powerful wings of the beast produced as it followed him made the waves retreat into the sea. Just as planned, he was now racing toward the forest with the dinosaur only a few hundred feet above the ground, and getting lower and lower.

"NOW!"

Hamilton shouted. Thomas closed his eyes, knowing he was about to be swallowed. A horrible gagging sound mixed with coughing erupted from the dinosaur's chest as the glowing sphere entered its throat and expanded, exploding in a torrent of black and gold fragments. The ground began to crumble beneath their feet, and they screamed in despair as they fell into the darkness and-

They opened their eyes.

Thomas looked around desperately and was greatly relieved to realize that he was safe in the driver's seat of his own car. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel and began to laugh hysterically, followed by Hamilton, who placed his shaking hands over his eyes and laughed so hard that his abdomen hurt.

“I’m alive!”

“I told you… you could trust me”

They looked at the backseat. Benjamin was still asleep, and a small, dark, slightly purplish sphere had appeared on his lap. As he picked it up to examine it more closely, Thomas noticed small golden details inside of what appeared to be a huge explosion. Absorbed in observing their prize, the two were startled when Tallmadge's voice came out of nowhere.

"Hey, why are we still here?" He looked extremely confused. Well, he had good reason to be. It was already dark outside.

"You didn't say where your friend's house is." Thomas quickly hid the ball of darkness in his pocket.

"Oh, sorry. You can go straight here and..."

Nothing special happened. No animal of any kind, living or extinct, tried to eat them alive.

There is one thing Hamilton didn’t elaborate when they were opening up about their shame.

Of course, there was no need for him to talk about it since it wasn't about Jefferson and the situation was already going to be settled, but Alexander Hamilton's true greatest shame is not his defensive behavior with strangers, but the ridiculous way he reacts when close friends of his try to reach out and help him because they care about him, because they don't want to see him thrown out there in some corner with bad company, because they love him. 

He tried to hide this fact from everyone who asked him, in fact he tried to hide it from himself: the real culprit of the fight he had recently had with John Laurens was himself. Maybe it was because of his Nightmare — or maybe his life is just this kind of mess naturally — but he was in a particularly deplorable situation when John tried to warn him about the shit he was doing with his own life. He reacted in the worst possible way, saying things he wouldn't want to repeat even in his mind, lies sharp as knives and thrown in the direction of the person who cares most about him. It was shameful behavior and he needs to fix it. This time he won't let the wound heal badly, nor will he put all the responsibility on the shoulders of others.

It's time for him to talk about feelings.

And that's why he finds himself in this situation, standing in front of the door to his own apartment with a key in hand, staring static at the lock. After dropping Ben off at a friend's house (who, by the way, was very worried about him. That Caleb guy was definitely a good friend), Thomas insisted on taking Hamilton to his apartment, and he ended up accepting, precisely because it was time to stop being a coward and face the facts.

"Go on, open this door" He muttered to himself in gritted teeth "if you still have any kind of salvation, just open it already"

To his great surprise, his muscles moved and he opened the door. He wasn't so surprised, however, to find his friend sitting on the couch with a bowl full of cereal watching... a fucking dinosaurs documentary?!

"Turn that off."

"What?!" Laurens nearly dropped his cereal when he heard Hamilton's voice echo through the apartment. He stared in disbelief. "You back? I thought... forget it."

Alexander wasn't offended by the fact that John imagined he wouldn't be back tonight. In fact, considering the lifestyle he had and his gigantic ability to deny reality by simply distancing himself from it as much as possible, it was even the most plausible thing to think.

Still, this time, it tightened his chest.

“Jack, we need to talk… for fuck’s sake can you please turn that off?” He was sincerely triggered just by looking at the screen and seeing a group of velociraptor or some shit like that praying on a bigger animal.

“Ok, ok Geez…” 

When the TV was turned off, Hamilton walked over to sit on the couch at a safe distance. He was testing the waters, trying to see how bad the situation was, but he immediately censored himself. What was the point of saying he would be honest and then starting to analyze and manipulate the situation? Just. Talk.

"I was a jerk to you. I did exactly what I always do, I acted like a child when you were trying to help me, and this time I did worse. I said things to you... that were not only cruel but were outright lies. I told you I didn't need you, that you should mind your own business, I talked about your father... fucking hypocrisy if you ask me," Alexander blurted out, staring at the floor. He crossed his legs on top of the couch to keep from bouncing them anxiously. "That's why I wanted to apologize to you. Sincerely."

A few seconds passed in which the house was filled with two kinds of metaphorical silence. One of them, in fact, came from the soft noise of the refrigerator, the low rumbles coming from inside the room where Lafayette and Hercules slept, even from the static that existed when everything else was quiet.

The other was deeper, and came from the hurt.

That hurt that comes out when someone sincerely apologizes and you really want to forgive them. It's a kind of relief and pain mixed together, and everything seems to come at once in the pit of your stomach. It was this kind of silence that they were listening to in tune.

"Knew you didn't really mean what you said." John's voice was nothing more than a shaky whisper, so unsteady that Hamilton felt his eyes fill with tears. "But I didn't expect an apology. You never apologize."

"I know. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve one. I told you, I've been an idiot, and I don't just mean this last situation, I'm talking about everything... you're my ride or die, the closest friend I've ever had, the one who knows everything about me and the only one who stayed. I may call a lot of people 'friends', but who's really here? You, Herc and Laf. And even among them, who is really here? You. Always you. You never gave up on me and I... I'm so fucking grateful, I don't know what I would do without you" He bit his lip hard to keep from crying. Too many emotions for a heart so damaged in so many ways.

“Alex, what happened today? You’re being… cheesy.” John tried to sound cool but honestly? He was about to cry too. If they looked at eachother now they'd start crying like babies.

Nothing special, just a dinosaur made of dark matter and a sincere apology from Thomas Jefferson. Although I can't say which of those two things had the biggest impact on me.

“Ate dutch pie from the cafeteria. It’s delicious”

John rolled his eyes and approached his friend, hugging him from the side. Alexander sighed in relief before letting himself melt into that hug he missed so much, even though it hadn't been long.

Whether the rustling of wings at the window was his imagination or not, he couldn't say.

"We need to catch up" John said.

"You won't leave me alone 'till I tell you something, will you? Fine then. My brother called me, he wanted to talk about... complicated stuff" Hamilton shifted uncomfortably. Laurens was no stranger to his complicated family matters, but this time the reason for his discomfort had more to do with the matter itself than the embarrassment that came with it.

"Your brother? James?"

"No... Edward"

"Oh my fucking God. And for you to call him brother, does that mean…?"

“Yes. And that’s exactly the problem.”

Chapter Text

“Hamilton, I want to figure this out as much as you do, but…”

Thomas stared in amazement. They were inside his office, and Hamilton had brought a damn corkboard, one of those things they use in detective shows, to hang exceptionally well-done drawings of each of the Nightmares the unlikely duo had faced so far. This kind of situation — in which Hamilton would suddenly enter his office and spend the next few hours talking and pacing nonstop — was relatively common before, but now that they actually had something to discuss it had become even more constant, to the point that Jefferson frankly wondered how Hamilton managed to handle the absurd amount of work he complains he have if he spent so much time blabbering in his ears.

Well, not that he was complaining.

"Three weeks, Jefferson. We've been fighting this stuff for three weeks now and it doesn't seem to make any sense how each time is different, there's no pattern... And that asshole Dick doesn't say anything useful!" Hamilton stopped in an impatient position, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.

"At least he told us what happens if we die inside a Nightmare." Thomas stretched on the leather couch ( why the fuck do you have a leather couch in your office? Hamilton had asked him once, a long time ago. Why wouldn't I? He had answered)

"One more reason for us to figure out how to fight these things better, that shit is terrifying." Alexander threw himself on the couch next to Thomas. "Having my soul atomized and turned into Nightmare essence is the last thing I want to have to deal with."

They fell into a comfortable silence. After the whole quetzalcoatlus incident and the heart-to-heart talk, their relationship had improved exponentially. Sure, they still disagreed on a lot of things and fought, but the insults no longer carried the same venom as before and they were able to have entire conversations laughing and having fun, something completely new. In the last week, Alexander had invited Madison and Jefferson to lunch with him and John twice .

Because of that, their friends were giving them weird looks. Since no one had asked (probably fearing to ruin the peace) and they didn't mind a little mystery, they didn't say anything.

But that also meant they hadn't really talked about it, which isn't a big deal, but still-

“Are you planning to be here for long?” Jefferson asked, breaking the silence.

“Want me to go?”

“No but- are you avoiding the question?”

“‘m not.” Hamilton looked away and lay down on the opposite arm of the couch, placing his feet on the seat. Jefferson took a deep breath.

“Spit out, what happened? And take your shoes off my fucking sofa”

“Nothing important” Instead of adjusting his posture, Hamilton literally took off his shoes and threw them on the floor. “Just trying to avoid very, very boring conversations”

“Washington again?”

“Yeah.”

“‘bout Genêt?” He tried to sound innocent, but the hint of interest in his voice was rather obvious.

“No use Jeffshit, won’t give you any privileged information” As if to prove his point, he dug his heels into the other's lap, who instantly closed his legs in fear of being hit in an unwanted place.

"Ow! Careful you little shit-”

"Oh, my feet are so sore... would anyone be kind enough to give me a massage?" Alex faked a tired high-pitched voice, placing the back of his hand dramatically on his forehead. Thomas chuckled.

"No thanks." He pushed his feet away, but Hamilton put them back "stop it!"

"No, I'll have the massage service I paid for."

"You didn't pay for shit, fuck you." Jefferson was now laughing loudly as he struggled vigorously against Hamilton's feet. "Do you even wash those socks?"

"Probably."

"What do you mean probably-"

Two knocks on the door ended their play. Hamilton quickly sat down and put his shoes back on, while Thomas stood up adjusting his suit.

"Who is it?" He asked, trying hard to mask the frustration in his voice.

"It's me, sir." The voice of Freneau, Jefferson's secretary, instantly cheered him up.

"Oh, come in."

Freneau was a very dedicated and loyal young man. Perhaps his greatest flaw was precisely this loyalty that knew no bounds and his willingness to do slightly questionable work whenever Jefferson asked him to. Because of this, Hamilton often caught him trying to get information from the people in his department, which definitely didn't make him like the boy very much. Freneau barely noticed Hamilton there, since half the times he needed to inform Jefferson of something they were in the middle of a heated argument.

Although this time it didn't seem like it.

"Sir, Monsieur Genêt wants to speak with you."

"Did he say why?"

"Um..." Freneau glanced at Hamilton. "No, sir."

"Okay. Tell him to meet me here in five minutes."

"Yes, sir."

When the secretary left, Alexander crossed his arms. 

"I got the message. I'm going to leave, but first..."

"Here we go again" Thomas rolled his eyes and walked to the desk, organizing some papers and sitting down to wait for the Frenchman.

"Seriously. Be careful with this guy, I don't trust his intentions." Hamilton walked towards him until they were face to face, separated only by the table. "I don't know what kind of things you've been discussing, but I'm sure it's a trap. Please tell me you're not giving away anything about internal affairs with him-"

"Hamilton, that's none of your business." He cut him off before that conversation, which they'd had several times, could repeat itself again. "And Genêt is a good man, very intelligent and can benefit us a lot"

"I'm glad you didn't say "honest" because even you know that would be a lie" Hamilton replied with a sarcastic smile.

"Fuck off"

"Gladly. I don't want to see that idiot even painted gold" He angrily turned on his heels and left the office.

A few minutes later, Genêt entered the office. He walked in a funny way, like someone who didn't know how to use both legs very well and ended up taking two steps with the same foot every now and then. He wore a light brown suit jacket that, honestly, was an insult to fashion, but Jefferson tried to overlook it because the man was extremely nice and because of his long-standing admiration for him.

"Bonjour, Mister Jefferson." The older man closed the door behind him. As soon as he entered, his eyes were drawn to the board full of drawings on the wall to his right. Thomas didn't notice the fleeting sparkle that passed through his eyes, since he wasn't looking at them. Genêt quickly hid it, "Beautiful drawings."

"Good morning to you too, sir. They're, uh..."

"May I ask who's the artist? I found this one particularly interesting..." He approached the first drawing on the board, the one that portrayed the wolf, Hamilton's Nightmare.

"I just bought them... somewhere... I don't know the artist's name, sir, sorry." Thomas felt his cheeks heat up at the thought of having to come up with some explanation for having several drawings done by Hamilton on his office wall. It was better to just play disinterest.

"I see..." After a long staring, he finally walked away to sit in the empty chair on the other side of the desk. "I have good news for you, my friend. Good news for us."

"Really?" Thomas could use some good news. As far as he knew, the negotiations to help the French were going very badly, and it was going to be a disaster at the next week's meeting regarding this subject.

"Yes. I spoke to some of the distributors you mentioned to me and, after much effort, they might be willing to... pressure your boss to collaborate." Genêt chose his words carefully, knowing that the conspiratorial tone they would bring might make the other back off. As expected, Thomas frowned.

"Did you? Pressure? What do you mean?"

"You know, just what's necessary. If the distributors are convinced that the loan to the French is necessary, there's nothing Washington can do to stop it. As much as he's the boss, without legs the titan can't walk." Genêt's smile was warm and comforting, but Thomas still felt a small shiver, as if something in the back of his mind was trying to warn him. He ignored it, because everything else in his being was sure it was nonsense.

"Okay... and what needs to happen for that to be possible?"

"Smart boy, you know you're the only one who can help me with this. All they need is a friendly face in here, you know?" Genêt clasped his hands on the table and looked at Jefferson, but didn't try to make him look directly in the eye. These small but significant attempts to make him comfortable always warmed Jefferson's heart. Why not trust this man?

"I'll do my best" 

"Excellent. Je savais que je pouvais compter sur vous"

With that, Genêt left, but not before looking at the drawings again. Jefferson couldn't help but feel a strange sensation, which was more of a physical state than something rationalizable. His heart was pounding and something inside him was trembling, perhaps in anticipation of finally being able to advance somehow? Yes, he would have to settle for that theory for now. Trying to cool his head, he decided to read some reports, which didn't last long because he was interrupted by a message from Madison.

[From James] 8:43 a.m.

Thomas, are you free?

[To James] 8:43 a.m.

Not exactly, but also not busy. What for?

[From James] 8:45 a.m.

No big deal. But since you seem to be quite busy the last few days to hang out, I wondered if we could talk here.

Thomas frowned at that message. Sure, he’d been spending more time lately fighting Nightmares with Hamilton — or recovering from them — but he hadn’t realized until now that he might be neglecting Madison a little. Come to think of it, how many times had he asked him to go out for drinks or hang out at his place and Thomas had said no because he needed to kill an evil rabbit, a mummy, or nearly die in some crazy Greek mythology-inspired scenario? (Seriously, the drawing of a hydra and a three-headed dog on the board attested to that.)

[To James] 8:46 a.m.

I’m so sorry Jimmie. Omw right now.

He found his friend quietly drinking coffee at a table in the cafeteria. Feeling a little embarrassed, Thomas sat down and accepted the drink James offered him.

"Hey um... you wanted to talk...?"

"Yes. But first..." He took a sip before continuing. By the way he was acting, Thomas could tell he was kind of upset with him. "It would be great if you could tell me what's going on."

"Look, I'm just a little busy-"

"Cut the bullshit." It was unusual for him to lose his temper like that, so Thomas just did as he was being told. "I'm not trying to tell you, a grown ass man, what to do with your life, but as your friend I'd like for you to know you can talk to me. You look exhausted half of the time like you've been sleeping past the time you usually do, yesterday you forgot to handle me the report you've been working for the last week, and lets not mention the fact that you're willingly talking to Hamilton, and by talking I mean not yelling at his face or anything, which I have to say is the weirdest part of all that"

"Wait- wait wait wait . What are you trying to imply here?"

Thomas was already afraid of the answer even before James looked at him with that look of concern mixed with humor. Of all the misunderstandings that could arise from his change of routine, he didn't expect that this would be a possibility, and above all he didn't expect his heart to do a somersault in his chest just from thinking about it.

"Thomas..."

"No."

"Are you and Hamilton...?"

"We're not."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I already know what you're going to say, and I'm telling you it's not what it is." Thomas assumed a defensive posture.

"Then why it affects you so much?" James, wise as he is, shifts the argument back to him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"If you're not together - don't interrupt me - then why it affects you? Unless..."

"Unless what?" He was starting to sound desperate.

"You wish you were... don't you?"

The most pathetic part is that Thomas couldn't give a concrete answer to that. He even rehearsed a firm no to say, but it didn't want to come out of his mouth at all, so he just stood there with half-parted lips without making a sound. There was no way he could try to explain that no, there weren't romantic dates, they were "dates" to defeat horrible monsters beyond human comprehension , especially because he had a strong suspicion that even if he told him, James wouldn't stop thinking that.

And, of course, he would also think that he had gone completely nuts from trying to find an excuse to deny the fact that he had a thing for his coworker.

"N-no, not at all," he finally managed to say. "How could you even think that? He's annoying, practically a natural disaster wherever he goes, irresponsible, impulsive," passionate, brilliant, creative... "arrogant, full of himself, you know, I've told you all this several times. Okay, these last few weeks he may have been a little more tolerable, but does that erase all the time we spent and still spend fighting?" Thomas asked this question as if it were his great triumph, as if it were a brilliant and irrefutable argument. James had to hold back the urge to laugh.

"I'm gonna have to agree with Angelica."

"What do you mean?"

"The other day she again mentioned to me a theory she's had for a long time - which, by the way, I had rejected before - that you two only fight so much because in reality you wanted to be fucking-"

"EXCUSE ME?"

"And honestly, if you want him to shut up so badly," James continued, completely ignoring Thomas' indignant expression, "... wouldn't there be much better ways to make that happen?"

And- that's going to live rent free in Thomas' mind for the next fucking year , but for now he would like to keep his dignity intact and pretend it's just nonsense.

"I have no idea where you guys got that from and I'm not interested." He was about to actually get up when James chuckled, much more well humored now.

"Wait- ok, ok, not a word about it anymore. That's not why I called you here."

"Oh, wasn't it? Wonderful" He rolled his eyes and sat back, waiting for his friend to elaborate.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m officially dating Dolley.”

“For real? Holly shit, that’s amazing- wait, is that why you’re romanticizing reality that much?” Suddenly, Thomas managed to turn the situation in his favor. "My God Jimmie, didn't think you'd be the hopeless romantic type when you dated someone- I mean, screw ‘someone’, when you dated Dolley 'cause that was the inevitable thing to happen"

“Shut up, I’m not romanticizing anything”

“Anyway, all I wanna know is when’s the marriage and if I’m invited” He joked. Of course he would be invited.

“Too soon for that and you’re not deserving it right now” James tried to sound harsh but couldn’t hide the huge smile on his face. “Ah, by the way, are you going to Angelica’s birthday party this weekend?”

“Absolutely yes, couldn’t lose it even if I wanted to because she’d kill me.”

“Fair enough.”

“Gonna take Dolley there with you?”

“Yes- stop with the face!” Thomas couldn't stop laughing as James leaned across the table to playfully hit his shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry- the Schuylers’ propriety in Albany, huh? And they’ll even have rooms prepared for everyone.”

“This should be fun” James smiled in an amused way clearly referring to the fun he would have watching Hamilton and Jefferson ‘live’ in the same house for three days straight before finishing his coffee and standing up. "Back to work?"

A few days later, Friday, Thomas was at home packing his bags. In the last few weeks he had finally managed to make a deal with Dick in which the bird would have the guest room entirely to himself and could do whatever he wanted in it as long as he didn't destroy the other areas of the house. Thomas' personal bookshelf was absolutely off-limits, as was the microwave in the kitchen, since his roommate seemed incapable of not making a mess every time he decided to make popcorn, which made Thomas wonder how the hell he had managed to cook such a wonderful dinner on the first day — guess this should just be filed away with the growing list of mysteries regarding the creature.

Anyway, he was packing his things to leave in a few hours for the Schuyler mansion. According to his calculations he would arrive just in time to settle comfortably in one of the rooms before the party started around 8 pm, which was great, but there was just one problem...

"Tom, you gotta take me with you" Dick's voice was muffled by the small bag he was carrying with his beak. He was insisting on going with Jefferson since the day he told him about it, and ever since he's been responding-

"No!"

"Pretty pweeeese! I wanna party too!"

"How would you- you know what, forget it, you're not coming with me I need vacation!"

"But what if a Nightmare appears?"

"We've gone through this countless times, I’m coming back Monday! I'm sure you can handle it, almighty bird"

“Fine then” He sighed, dropping his full-of-birdseed bag on the floor, causing Thomas to curse loudly. “I’ll just ask someone else”

“What?” His annoyed protest was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. “Fuck no.”

“Answer the door Tom” 

Dick's excitement could only mean something very bad to Jefferson, but since the person at the door seemed determined to break the damn button if he didn't answer it, he didn't have much of a choice. Hamilton slipped inside just as the door was opened wide enough for him to pass through as if he were on some kind of secret mission.

"Finally, imagine if someone saw me here? My reputation would be ruined."

"Good afternoon to you too, Hamilton." Jefferson rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him. "What brings you to my lovely abode?"

With the utmost shamelessness, the shorter man dropped his full black backpack on the couch and then sat down with his legs crossed.

"Two things. What about our, uh, business?" He asked, looking in Dick's direction, who immediately flew towards him.

"Hammyyyy help me! That heartless bastard Thomas doesn't want to take me with him!"

“Why not?” Hamilton’s amused voice while he petted the bird, who was now laying on his bent knee, made Jefferson frown.

“Hamilton, are you actually insane?”

"Said the guy who's packing a huge suitcase to be away from home for less than three whole days." He replied, looking at the open suitcase in the middle of the room. The clothes folded inside were organized by color and occasion, and they would clearly be enough for a three-week stay, not three days.

"Says who seems to not be taking enough for even one day."

"Do you mean that?" He patted the backpack. "There are only some work tools, personal hygiene items and underwear in here. The rest I borrow from John."

"What an inconvenience."

"Been doing this for the last decade and he's never complained."

"To spend so much time being your friend, his sense of self-preservation must have been eroded by now." Thomas said in a light joking tone, very different from how he would normally phrase this. Hamilton, of course, noticed and didn't let the opportunity pass.

"I dunno, you don't seem that bothered about having me around."

"What gave you that impression?" Jefferson stopped in the middle of zipping up his suitcase to look at the other, who had a smug little smile on his face.

"Jus' something I noticed." He lay down on the couch with his knee still bent so as not to knock over Dick, who watched the situation unfold as if it was his favorite romantic comedy — well, it really was. "You even look for me sometimes, come to my office, offer to drive me home..."

"That's just basic politeness."

"And where was your basic politeness a few months ago? You know what, Thomas, I think you like me~" Hamilton hummed the last part in a mocking tone, but Jefferson's heart still skipped a beat. So that's how it is? They're on a first-name basis now?

"If believing that's what keeps you up at night, princess, I'm not the one to break the illusion." Before Hamilton could register the nickname calling, he continued speaking "So? What was the other thing you wanted to talk about?"

"Ah- Ah, I... I was going to ask for a ride"

Jefferson raised an eyebrow at him. "Why? Aren't you going with Hercules and the others?"

"I was going to, but they decided to invite Burr to go with them so I decided that hell no, thanks. Have you ever spent more than an hour with him in an enclosed environment? I'd kill myself before we arrive" That was so clearly a lame excuse that Dick couldn't help but laugh.

"Dude..."

"Shut up Dick, or I'm not going to take you."

"Sowy"

"Wait a minute, you're not going to take him anyway."

"So you're willing to give me a ride?"

"Well... if it's okay with you for James and Dolley to go along..." Thomas replied nervously before wanting to slap himself. Of course this situation would only worsen Madison's suspicions, but honestly? Deep down he wanted Hamilton to go with him, so screw that!

"Who's Dolley?" Hamilton changed focus.

"James' girlfriend. Actually, future wife would fit better" He was so proud of his friend that he couldn't stop smiling, making Hamilton smile too.

"Is that so?"

Twenty minutes later (during which Hamilton and Jefferson had argued vigorously about the importance of following the dress code at occasions such as Angelica's party, with occasional comments from Dick about his opinion that wearing clothes is elitist), the doorbell rang again to reveal Madison and his girlfriend.

Dolley was a pretty woman with long black hair tied back in a practical ponytail, since they would be traveling for several hours and it would be inconvenient to have to maintain any elaborate hairstyle until they arrived. She had intelligent eyes and rosy cheeks, her casual but never sloppy style of clothes perfectly matched James', and they both wore similar gold necklaces with each other's initials.

As soon as Jefferson opened the door to welcome them, Hamilton laughed at some bullshit John had sent him, instantly drawing the attention of the two guests to the couch and making Jefferson want to evaporate in embarrassment.

"Thomas, why is Hamilton here?"

"Um... He wanted a ride," he answered as quickly as possible.

"Right..." James decided it was best not to argue. He entered the apartment hand in hand with Dolley, who greeted Thomas with a smile that could only mean that James had already told her about his... suspicions. Great.

"Hello Thomas, it's been a while! I missed you."

"Me too, Dolley, it's a pleasure to see you again." He greeted her with an awkward handshake, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to hug her. To save him from this embarrassment, Hamilton decided it was a good time to butt in like he always does.

"Dolley! It's a pleasure to meet you, Alexander Hamilton at your service." With a very exaggerated bow, he kissed her hand. She laughed and slightly bent her knees in a polite bow, joining him in the play.

"What a gentleman, the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hamilton."

"You can call me Alex, beauty." He then turned to James, who was watching the scene trying to decipher if Alexander's presence there meant what he thought it meant. "So Madison, how are you? I imagine you're feeling amazing having such a wonderful companion by your side." He winked at Dolley, who laughed sweetly.

"Yes, I am. And you, huh? To what do we owe the pleasure of your unplanned presence here?" He glanced at Jefferson, who was trying his best not to be noticed while picking up two glasses of water for them.

"Oh, sorry to show up like this, I just needed a last minute ride, you know, and honestly I'd much rather go with Jefferson than with Adams."

"Absolutely."

Their conversation was interrupted when Dick, out of nowhere, started whistling Madonna's Like a Prayer. Jefferson felt like throwing those two glasses of water in the bird's face, who was humming happily, rocking from side to side using the back of one of the chairs as a perch. Dolley's eyes immediately brighten up.

"Thomas, since when you have a pet? And my God, how does it know how to sing Madonna?"

"I have no idea." He said, narrowing his eyes. "I got this... bird almost a month ago. His name is Dick." Thomas handed the glasses of water to both of them and went to stand next to Hamilton.

She frowned at the name "Well... weird, but fine" she approached to pet under the animal's beak, and at that moment it became very clear that this was the little jerk's goal from the beginning "I wonder if he can sing any other songs?" At the lady's request, Dick immediately started whistling Material Girl. "WOW! He's amazing!"

"Yeah, yeah, don't praise him too much, he'll get cocky."

"What do you mean? He deserves all the praise in the world, don't you, cutie? Who's mommy's beautiful little bird? That's right, it's you!"

Hamilton and Jefferson looked at each other and had to look away immediately to hold back laughter. Dick puffed out his chest, very proud of himself.

"Okay... shall we go then?" James asked. "I've already put our bags in the car, like you asked Tom."

"Yeah ok, let's go."

As soon as he heard that, Dick instantly climbed onto his new friend's shoulder. She was delighted. "My God, he liked me!"

"Of course he liked you," Hamilton said, laughing.

"What should I do? I don't want to lock this cutie in a cage... by the way, where's his cage?"

"Uh..." Thomas scratched his head, remembering the last time he tried to lock Dick back in the cage and was almost blinded by the bird's claws. "He doesn't have one."

"Really? And he's never tried to escape?"

"Unfortunately not."

"He must really like you then." Dolley gave Dick's back little scratches. "So what do I do?"

"Take him with you," Hamilton promptly said, before Jefferson could protest. "We were going to do it anyway."

"We?"

"Yeah, you're being a bitch about it but you were going to give in eventually." Hamilton patted Thomas on the shoulder, he only glared at him. He retreated his hand right away thinking he made him uncomfortable or something, but Thomas only smiled and shook his head.

Thus, Alex, James, Dolley, and the Madonna-loving bird got into the car.

The Schuyler property was truly immense, something beyond the reality of ordinary people, which seems to be increasingly made up of tiny apartments that cost much more than a worker can afford and still have enough to live with dignity. But that's the thing, when you have money, fucking lots of money, the problems of ordinary mortals don't affect you, which is what allowed a few to live off the work of many. Of course, the only one in that car who was really thinking about how many people lived in poverty for them to afford a lifestyle like that was Hamilton; maybe Dick too, it would be impossible to tell since he was pretending to be just an innocent birdie at the moment.

You see, all that luxury wasn't very different from Monteciello (when the house has a name you already know the owner is filthy rich), where Jefferson grew up. It wasn't anything new for Madison and Dolley either, since they both came from wealthy families: it was by frequenting the same high society circles that the three had met.

For Hamilton, however, this kind of thing only reminded him of the gulf that existed between him and some of his friends. It was not the first time he had visited the Schuyler sisters’ house, but he remembered vividly the sense of absurdity he had felt in that place when the servants began asking him incessantly how he would like his linens folded, which of the gourmet coffee brands he had never heard of in his life he would like to have brought to his room on a tray, or, worst of all, what kind of Caribbean cocktail he would like to have lying by the pool that tried to emulate the feeling of being at a private resort.

He shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat next to Jefferson.

"You ok?" Thomas asked quietly, trying to keep his voice from being noticed by the two in the backseat, who were talking about some random stuff.

"Why you ask?" Hamilton was instantly defensive.

"You're too quiet" He answered simply.

"Fair enough" Alexander couldn't help the little chuckle, he hadn't shut up since they got to the car. "I'm just... Thinking"

"That's new" Thomas laughed when Hamilton hit him in the shoulder.

"It's jus'... too much, you know?"

"What is too much?" He asked honestly, and Hamilton's laugh was almost melancholic this time.

"Can't believe you're asking me this"

"What? I'm serious!"

"I know, and that'd be hilarious if it wasn't actually sad"

Thomas drove down a gravel path through a large, well-kept garden. Apparently it was butterfly season, because several of them could be seen on the flowering bushes in a whirlwind of colors and shapes. They arrived at a sort of small courtyard in front of the mansion's entrance, where a 50-something employee wearing a very well-tailored suit was waiting for them.

"Mr. Jefferson," he said as soon as Thomas stopped the car. "Allow me to park your car."

"Sounds great, thank you."

A few more employees, two men and a woman, came out of the mansion carrying one of those hotel trolleys for luggage. The first employee continued speaking.

"And please allow us to take your luggage to your respective rooms."

As they entered the house, their paths diverged. Jefferson, Madison, and Dolley went straight to their rooms to get ready, while Hamilton decided to look for John first. Well, not that he had any choice, since the clothes he intended to wear were his.

Many employees were walking around getting everything ready for that night's event. Feeling a little lost and nervous, Alexander decided to send a message.

[To John] 6:11 p.m.

where the heck are you?

[From John] 6:12 p.m.

room. The fisrt one up stairs to the right

[To John] 6:12 p.m.

do u know where Angie is?

[To John] 6:12 p.m.

its her party and i havent seen her yet

[From John] 6:13 p.m.

Shes getting ready ofc, u're the only son of a bitch attending to a social event with borrowed clothes and faith on ur natural beauty

[To John] 6:14 p.m.

hey Ive got a lot of natural beauty thank u

[From John] 6:15 p.m.

kay beauty queen get ur ass up here laf's doing makeup

As soon as he entered the room, Alex was greeted by pure chaos. Bags and more bags of makeup and beauty products were thrown everywhere. The bed was unmade and, sitting on it, John was rummaging through a bright pink suitcase looking for something.

"Laf, you sure you brought it?"

"Of course I did!" Lafayette's stressed voice came from the vanity, where he was wearing a violet satin cap big enough for all his voluminous hair. In addition, he was wearing only a satin hob of the same color, you know like the genderfluid diva she was "The glitter eyeshadow is the most important part!"

"Holy shit, there's a lot of stuff in here"

"Pain is beauty, mon cher ." Laf stretched out their right hand "Herc, brush number 2" They took the makeup brush their boyfriend had given them to spread the blush.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" Alexander closed the door behind him and dropped his backpack on the floor.

"Alex, mon ami !" Lafayette greeted. "My dear assistants are helping me with my makeup. It's your turn later." 

"What?" He looked genuinely scared, "no way." 

"You promised that next time you'd let me, petit lion . You won't escape." 

Alexander pulled from the depths of his memory the last time they had gone out to a party like that, and in fact, to prevent Lafayette from doing his stunning makeup on him that day, he ended up promising that next time he would let him. Of course, he made this promise expecting the other to forget, apparently it backfired. 

Accepting his fate, he went to sit with John to look for the damn glitter eyeshadow palette. 

"Alex, how was your exciting trip in Jefferson's car?" Laurens asked without taking his eyes from inside the messy thing

"Oh! I want to hear all about it too," Lafayette added like a schoolgirl excited to hear some gossip. 

"Nothing special. Did you know Madison is dating someone? Her name’s Dolley, she's such a sweetheart." Hamilton deliberately tried to change the focus of the story. It didn't work.

"Alex, cher , with all due respect we want to hear about you and Jefferson."

“Yeah like, did you guys try to kill each other on the road? Found the damn thing Laf!” John trew the palette to Hercules, who catched it and put it in front of them.

“We did not. Do you think I’m a fucking animal or something?”

“Only sometimes” John promptly answered.

“Yeah sometimes” Laf agreed.

“Like, when you’re with him, definitely” Hercules added.

“Worse fucking friends in the word” Alex threw himself back at the bed stretching his arms and legs still sore from being in the same position for too long. John didn’t lose the opportunity to jump over him. “Ouch-”

“You love us Alex”

“Fuck off!”

“Never” he hugged him even tighter, and they started to kind of fight on top of the bed in a childish and idiotic way, but honestly? What's the fun in not being childish and idiotic anymore? The game only ended when Laurens managed, with some difficulty, to throw Alexander out of bed with a dull thud. He immediately went to check if the other was hurt, and Alex took the opportunity to pull him by the hair and fall with him "Fuck! That hurts you son of a bitch!"

"Gonna cry about it?"

“Would you two children please stop whatever you're doing back there? You're disturbing my peace.” Lafayette said in a particularly dangerous tone. Laurens and Hamilton looked at each other before answering at the same time

"Yes, ma'am."

Two hours later, no one would believe the miracle performed there. 

The first to come out into the hallway on the upper floor was Lafayette.

She looked beautiful. In a way, the dress she was wearing could be compared to the celestial cloak of the goddess herself, deep blue with golden stars sprinkled throughout the entire upper layer of thin, semi-transparent fabric, which gave the lower layers an appearance that imitated the immensity of the universe. Her hair was loose in an afro and the makeup on her face could not be described with any other word than perfect ; indeed, the dark blue glitter eyeshadow was the main touch.

Beside her was the tailor responsible for making this exclusive piece, who was also her boyfriend. He was imposing, wearing an all-black suit with some blue details to it in order to match with hers. The ASCOT tie and the headband were definitely the most eye-catching, but it was also possible to see that the look was designed so that Lafayette would have the spotlight, not him, after all that dress was his greatest creation of the night and was being shown off by the best possible model.

Behind them, a little overshadowed, were John and Alex. The first wore a basic light blue suit, but he still looked very beautiful. Half of his hair was tied up on top of his head, while the rest flowed down to his shoulders. He had let Lafayette do just a little makeup on him, just enough to highlight the beauty of his face, and it had been quite effective.

Hamilton looked... Well, it's hard to explain. First of all, the emerald suit he was wearing wasn’t his, it came straight from Laurens’ closet. The funny part is that the owner of the suit himself had never worn it, having bought it exclusively with Alexander in mind. The gold lion-shaped lapel on the beige tie wasn’t his either, having been taken from Hercules Mulligan’s enormous collection. The only thing he hadn’t borrowed from anyone was his naturally handsome face, only enhanced, if that’s the right word, by the Frenchman’s impeccable techniques.

An emerald green eyeliner decorated and highlighted Hamilton’s deep, intelligent gaze, one of his most striking and praised features. Then, the light green glitter eyeshadow, because of course Lafayette wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to add more glitter to things, made him even more interesting than usual to look at. He had also shaved (practically forced to do so by his dear friends) and, with his shiny and inviting lips, he seemed more youthful and always ready to give one of those smirks with flushed cheeks that made men and women sigh with love and lust alike.

When the fashion foursome left the room, the party was already underway on the ground floor. The mansion had those classic double staircases with a Greek statue in the center, something quite exaggerated in Hamilton's opinion. Rich people and their increasingly extravagant ways of spending money . Anyways, all the guests — both those who would stay in the rooms for the following days and those who came just to attend the party — had already arrived, and there were about 200 people in total spread out across the halls, dining rooms, dance floors and outdoor patio. Most of those people were very important, either politicians or businessmen, because Philip Schuyler, Angelica, Eliza and Peggy's father, was a senator for the state of New York. Once again, Hamilton wondered how it was possible for a guy who had no connection whatsoever with the reality of the people to be elected, but of course he kept this opinion to himself and maintained cordial bonds with the man, who once even asked him to be his ghostwriter for a campaign a few years ago.

A few rooms away to the left, a trio had also just finished getting ready. Madison was wearing an extremely dull yet clearly refined gray suit that contrasted with his girlfriend's baby blue dress and the eye-catching ribbon bow in her hair. 

Jefferson was wearing a long, vintage magenta outwear coat with embroidery along the entire center length, silver buttons hand-carved with roses, and the thing had a trim that definitely emphasized his waist in an unholy way. The pants, the same color, separated from the top by a silver belt, ended in high, heeled boots. Yes, that tall man, wearing boots with heels. It should be a crime. At least that's what Hamilton thought as soon as he laid eyes on him while Thomas was distractedly buttoning the cuffs of his garment. When he finally looked back, their eyes met for a few seconds in which they both remained paralyzed, hypnotized by the other's beauty. 

"Thomas? Thomas, are you listening?" Madison asked. 

"What? Yes. Yes, I am."

"I said that if you need anything, you can call me."

Jefferson sincerely doubted that his friend would be able to hear the call over the loud music and the fun he would certainly be having with his girlfriend, but he still appreciated the gesture. He knew he was only worried like that because Thomas didn't have a very good history with parties: he often felt overwhelmed by all the stimuli and ended up with horrible headaches that didn't let him sleep.

Well, that ends up being a necessary sacrifice for anyone who wants to live in society. At least in the society they were expected to live in since they were children.

"Yeah, okay, thanks James."

When he looked back to where Hamilton was, he was already gone along with his friends.

~~

"Oh. My. God." After walking around the huge ballroom for a while, the four of them found the birthday girl. Angelica was wearing a long yellow dress with gold thread embroidery, lots of hair accessories and very little makeup, because she definitely didn't need much anyway. She was finishing offering champagne to some of her father's guests when she turned to the side and saw Lafayette and, like everyone else without exception, had an instant reaction. "You look so gorgeous I'm jealous, Laf"

“Thank you, mon cherie, but you look even more astonishing, as always” They exchanged quick kisses on the cheek à la française and kept holding hands while talking. “This is quite the party, I must say”

“Well, this year I wanted to go a little further. Hercules, Alex and John, you three look beautiful too!”

“Well thank you for noticing our mere mortals presence next to our queen, Angie” Alexander smiled.

“How could I not, you specially look amazing like that Alex. Laf did the makeup I suppose”

“Damn right, I wouldn’t be capable of that. What do you think? How many of your guests will want to have a taste of me by the end of the night?” He purposely gave her a seductive little smile that, in all honesty guaranteed by the heavens, would have made her respond with a holy shit, even me.

“Plenty. But try not to get involved with politicians, they’re paranoid with blackmail and could make your life a living hell.”

“Are you talking by experience?”

“Hell no. Only observations. Never making that mistake and you shouldn’t either. actually, I have a very specific recommendation regarding this subject.” From her mischievous smile, Hamilton could already guess what kind of suggestion she would make. “You see, there’s that cute guy wearing a magenta exquisite outfit…”

“Not this again…”

“... I think he suits you just fine…”

“Wait, you talking about Jefferson?” John asked.

“Yes. Don’t you agree?”

“Um… In fact… recently they’ve been more chill…”

The two looked at Hamilton as if trying to analyze him. Wanting to get away as quickly as possible, he uttered loudly, already walking away. “Never happening. Ever. If you excuse me…”

And he vanished among the guests.

As he walked away, he found himself in a very interesting corner: some guests were gathered around a marble counter with huge shelves filled with bottles of the most varied beverages. Two bartenders were mixing drinks, and Alexander decided that was exactly what he needed.

"Good evening, what do you have?"

"Good evening, sir." A muscular man covered in tattoos was swinging a cocktail shaker. "Pretty much anything you can think of."

"Rum?"

"El Dorado, Havana, Plantation, Bacardi..." He started to list some brands. Hamilton interrupted him before he could finish, pretending to know what he was talking about.

"Uh... Havana will do... I'll have a Mojito."

"Havana 3 then. In a minute, sir." The bartender poured the drink he was preparing for the other guest before starting.

While he waited, another person approached, sitting on the raised stool next to him. Thomas Jefferson leaned his arms on the marble counter.

"I'll have the same as him."

"Yes, sir."

"Gonna trust my taste in drinks, Thomas?"

"Yeah, I'm getting a little worried about my sanity, too." He joked.

"Where are James and Dolley?"

"Over there" He pointed to a couple on the dance floor. They seemed too engrossed in each other's presence to pay attention to anything.

"I can see why you're not there."

"Nobody likes being the third wheel." He smiled as their drinks were delivered.

"Except when you're on a threesome." Hamilton downed half his Mojito in one gulp, while Thomas nearly choked on his comment.

"Ew? No. Absolutely not."

"Wasn't a suggestion, Jeffshit."

"Good to know." He was silent for a few more seconds, savoring his drink. "This is surprisingly good."

The two continued drinking and chatting for a while. They varied between drinks suggested by each of them, which made them discover that they shared similar tastes. When they were already pleasantly drunk, tipsy at least, Alexander saw Eliza and Maria walking together in the distance and decided to comment on it, because his head felt light and his tongue was loose, and also because for some reason he wanted to steer the conversation in that direction.

“Wanna know something funny?”

“Yeah?”

“These two over there” He pointed. “Are the only two women I made out with in my entire life”

“Wha-”

“And now they’re together, like, a couple, isn’t that… I mean-” He started laughing to himself like an idiot as Thomas stared at him in disbelief, smiling as he watched him lose it for no apparent reason.

“What? I mean, how? Who’s the one in red?” Jefferson knew Eliza, of course. Angelica’s younger sister was a sweetheart and well-known for her extensive charitable work throughout New York and even out of state. Her father was often accused by his adversaries of using his daughter’s labor to campaign, but anyone who knew the girl would know that this was nonsense; she simply had a good heart. Thomas had recently heard rumors that Eliza was dating a woman, but he hadn’t really investigated it too deeply since they weren’t as close as he and Angelica were. Seeing her there, walking hand in hand with the woman who was so obviously her girlfriend, however, he could confirm that the rumors were true.

“Her name’s Maria, Maria Lewis, but when I met her it was Maria Reynolds… I was still a full time lawyer at the time and she looked for my services on the divorce proceedings against her abusive husband. I helped her. In more than one way, we can say that-”

“For fucks sake is that even ethical?”

“Wasn’t ethical for her husband to treat her like he did, I was merely there right on time. Still, it didn’t last long, mainly because she, um, came to the conclusion she doesn’t like men, you know?”

“Wow.” 

"With Eliza, it was even funnier." Hamilton took a sip of the wine aged in Scottish oak for 300,000 years or something like that that Jefferson had ordered before continuing. "It was before I met Maria, but I already knew Washington and he was trying to recruit me to help with founding the company. He introduced me to Philip Schuyler and the guy invited me to come here, not expecting me to charm his daughters, of course." 

"Holy shit, Alexander-!" 

"It wasn't as bad as it sounds!" Hamilton doubled over laughing, he had to take another sip of wine to compose himself. "Eliza is too pure for anything like that. Even so, her father doesn't know, if you could keep it quiet I'd appreciate it." 

"Why? Afraid of getting murdered?" 

"No. It's jus' that the guy loves me for some reason and would try to get us married... needless to say she doesn't need me, right?" They watched as Eliza laughed excitedly in a circle of friends next to Maria. The passionate glances the two exchanged left no doubt that Eliza didn't need it, didn't want it, and probably never would. Thomas turned his gaze back to him.

"Your love life sounds like a mess." He chose his words and tone of voice carefully. A warm sensation was beginning to build in his lower abdomen, and he was inclined to attribute it to the alcohol, which should also be responsible for speeding up his heart and making him nervous like this, right?

“Not even a love life at all. Sex life at best.” Alex went silent staring at his glass for a couple seconds before mischievously smirking. “What ‘bout you?”

“Hm?”

“Have any stories to share?”

“No, I don’t” He looked away, trying not to focus on the other's drunkenly rosy cheeks.

“Come on! What’s the fun in that? I talked about myself now it’s your turn” Hamilton mockingly hit him on the shoulder, he took a deep breath.

“‘Kay then, if you insist… There was this guy, during my scholarship in France, his name was Edgar-”

“Wait, France? Is it the same Edgar I’m thinking?”

“I was gonna get there you lil’ shit, let people finish before talk-”

“Whatever, just go on!” Hamilton sat on the edge of the seat, moving closer to the other man. Thomas could feel his warm breath against his cheek, sending shivers down his spine.

“Yes, prob’ly the same Edgar. He was friends with Lafayette and he was so fucking annoying, and I mean it.”

“I know right??” You’re one to say… Jefferson thought, but let the other keep babbling. “Worst part is that he's also very arrogant, can't stop talking about himself... I met him a few months ago because Lafayette really wanted to introduce us, but honestly I have no idea how she puts up with that guy. Probably because Laf is more of an angel than a human being, that must be the only explanation.”

“Ok, yeah, kinda. Point is, one day I was tired of the bullshit and told him to shut the fuck up, and guess what?”

“What?”

“He said make me .”

Oh.

Oooooh.

Hamilton didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the immediate reaction his body had upon hearing it. He felt his hands tremble softly and suddenly it was really uncomfortable to sit in the position he was in, so he separated his knees slightly at the same time Thomas readjusted his own position, causing their legs to become somewhat intertwined. Neither of them could tell when they had gotten so close. The bartender refilled the wine in their glasses without saying a word. Alexander's voice was low, Thomas probably wouldn't have understood what he said if he hadn't been paying so much attention to his lips.

"And your answer was...?"

"What do you think?" Jefferson's voice was little more than a whisper. He pointed behind discreetly. "I choose this story to tell because somehow he ended up in Angelica's social circle and has been chasing me the whole party."

Hamilton leaned slightly to the side and saw, staring at them shamelessly, none other than Edgar, The Annoying One. He had to hold back laughter.

Na-na-na, come on!

Rihanna's voice blasted from the speakers, making the ballroom erupt in cheers, which caused Thomas instant discomfort. He reached out, still sitting sideways, to grab the wine, but the texture his hand touched felt much more like feathers, and the startled gasp had certainly not been produced by a glass.

"Ouch- Get off me, man, gone crazy?"

"Dick??? What the fuck are you doing here?" Thomas released the bird, which slid erratically in the smooth counter trying to stand still. Clearly its feet were not made for walking on such surface.

"Partying. But that's not important right now!" He took a generous sip from Thomas's wine. "I felt something. It's going to happen in a few minutes."

"Nightmare attack?" Alexander jumped up from his stool as soon as he heard that. "Where? Who?"

"Where? I don't know exactly, inside this mansion. Who…? Hm, hard to say, but I think it's the youngest of three sisters. That's all I know."

"Youngest... Peggy!?" He looked straight to Thomas, he looked just as scared as he was. "We gotta go. Now ."

"Good luck, boys! I'll take care of your glasses." Dick saluted with his wing as if he were a bird on a mission.

Thomas and Alexander looked for her, and it went something like this:

Feels so good being bad (oh-oh, oh-oh, oh!)

They split up to cover more ground as they searched for her through the ballrooms. Hamilton made his way through the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor 'no. 1'. He almost knocked two people over.

There’s no way I’m turning back (oh-oh, oh-oh, oh!)

“Excuse me, have you seen Margarita Schuyler?” Thomas' urgent voice almost scared the random old lady he decided to ask. Almost.

“No, my dear. But you could certainly stay here with me, hm?” The flirtatious tone was obvious in her voice. He simply turned around and walked away.

Now the pain is the pleasure

‘Cause nothing can measure (oh, oh, o-o-oooh)

"Eliza, Maria, how are you? Great, very good. Betsey, have you seen your sister? The younger one. Peggy." Alexander almost knocked over the dancing couple when he arrived and then practically ran them over with words. The women looked at each other before looking back at him. There had been no awkwardness between the three of them after the... um... situations they shared, but it was still the first time he had seen them both at the same time since they started dating, and none of them had imagined that this moment would happen like this, with Alexander clearly tipsy enough to forget how to walk properly and looking for Peggy as if the world depended on it.

"Uh... no, I haven't. Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her in a while..."

"Fucking fucks."

"What?"

"Nothing, thank you very much Betsey. Maria. You two look beautiful. Congratulations on your relationship. Bye!" He ran away before either of them could react.

Love’s great, love’s fine (oh-oh, oh-oh, oh!)

Out the box, outta line (oh-oh, oh-oh, oh!)

The affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more (oh, oh, o-o-oooh)

Thomas went to the main hall, the one with the double staircases and the Greek statue, and found a few people who preferred to stay away from the noise and loud music. He looked around and found neither Peggy nor anyone he knew that he could ask. As he was considering going upstairs to look at the rooms, a hand on his wrist pulled him back into the ballroom "no. 1".

"Found her! I think." Alexander was breathless, but his grip was firm.

“Lead the way”

‘Cause I may be bad but I’m perfectly good at it!

When they got back, Thomas realized what Alex meant by that. Across the dance floor, on top of a small, inconspicuous doorway, Dick was flitting back and forth trying to get their attention. He wondered vaguely how no one else seemed to notice the presence of a fucking mockingbird in the middle of the party before he was pulled headlong into the middle of the dancing crowd, since they had to pass through it to get to the other side.

Sex in the air, I don’t care, I love the smell of it!

“What the fu-” Madison stumbled forward slightly when he felt a bump on his back. When he turned to see who it was, however, the words died in the back of his throat. He just stood there staring as Hamilton pulled Thomas by the wrist. "Knew it!"

"What's wrong, love?" Dolley asked.

"I knew there was something going on between those two."

"Want to play detective?" A spark of amusement danced in her eyes. James smiled back and kissed her.

"I'd rather stay here with you."

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But chains and whips excite me~

The door was made of white, sophisticated wood. As the two of them slipped into the narrow hallway, the music from the hall was instantly muffled and they could finally breathe a little.

"Where are we?" Alexander asked, making no move to let go of Thomas's wrist, and Thomas made no effort to pull away either.

"It looks like... maybe the servants' quarters?"

"Wow. That was probably the most aristocratic thing that has ever come out of your damn mouth. Wow. Servants' quarters? What kind of shit straight out of an episode of Downton Abbey was that?"

Jefferson just shrugged. Indeed, upon closer inspection, it seemed to be exactly that; along the hallway were several rooms. One of them was a laundry room, recognizable by the various baskets of linens and washing machines, another was a storage room for cleaning products, and further on were the bedrooms. Alexander was about to argue about it when his thoughts were interrupted by unmistakable sobs.

A little further on, they found the kitchen. It was a small and tidy place, without all the luxury that the real kitchen in the mansion displayed, but definitely much more comfortable and inviting. It had a stove, a kettle, other basic utensils and wooden cabinets with worn paint, which had once been light blue and now looked more like a grayish shade. Hamilton entered first with Thomas right behind him. Very slowly and very carefully so as to not scare her, they walked around the table and came across Peggy curled up like a child.

“There you are” Alexander’s voice was soft and calm. He slowly lowered himself to face her. She lifted her face slightly, and when she looked at him, her eyes were cloudy. Hamilton almost didn't realize he was still holding Jefferson's arm until he let go. He tried not to think about how much he missed the warmth of his body. "We'll help you."

“Can you?” Her voice was shaky and filled with genuine despair.

“Yes. We’ve been doing this a lot lately”

“Sounds kinda… lonely” Peggy — or at least supposedly her, said — Alexander frowned and turned slightly to face Thomas before answering.

“I don’t feel alone”

“Is that so?”

When she spoke for the last time, her tone no longer sounded shaky or desperate, it was empty. The kitchen began to spin around itself, every detail becoming more and more indistinguishable as reality lost its sense of self at a dizzying speed. Everything spun around Thomas and Alexander until it was absolutely unbearable to stare at the accretion disk of which they were the center, they closed their eyes.

They opened them again, everything was solid.

They were in a sort of living room. Behind them was an ornate dark wooden door with small windows decorated with white flowers painting, and outside there seemed to be nothing but a street that stretched into infinity, an empty lot and a red sky. The blood-red moon casted a dim light through the worn, translucent curtains; it was obvious that this place had been empty for a long time. The dusty sofas were crooked, the glass cabinet displayed a very sophisticated collection and the wine-red carpet had an elaborate gold pattern, although it was so dirty that the color was barely distinguishable.

Ahead of them, an open door showed the hallway. Everything was so silent that neither of them made a sound as they walked slowly to the door, looking both ways. Empty. They sighed in relief.

"Okay... what do we do?" Hamilton whispered, "This place is terrifying, it gives me the creeps."

"We don't have much choice but to explore a little. We need to find out what this nightmare is so we can figure out how to defeat it." Thomas's words were much more confident than his tone of voice.

"'kay genius, go ahead." Alexander made room for Thomas to walk ahead of him.

"What?"

"You're going first"

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm telling you to"

With that, Thomas led the way. They had barely stepped out into the hallway when the door slowly closed itself behind them, and Alexander was the first to look back. For about half a second, in the crack of the closing door, he could have sworn he saw a round, pale yellow glow with a pupil in the middle — an eye . A shiver ran down his spine. They’re being watched.

“Thomas-”

“What?” He instantly turned around, finding the door closed. There was nothing there anymore.

“Tell me you saw that too.” Alexander’s voice was terrified, and because of that, a little more heavily laced with the Nevisian dialect. The many times the two of them had been in this kind of dangerous situation, Thomas had noticed that whenever he got scared, he had a tendency to add unfamiliar slang and change the way he spoke. Secretly, Thomas thought that was the cutest thing.

“Saw what?”

"The fucking yellow eye, please tell me you saw it too!"

"Alexander, I have no idea what you're talking about." Thomas was starting to get scared too, but he knew he had to keep control of the situation for their both sakes. "Let's just keep going."

At the end of the hallway, they found a small dining room with a fireplace and a table that seated eight. It was all very tidy, but dust covered the room heavily and the ashes from the fireplace had accumulated in a small mound. In front of each of the chairs was a plate with a piece of paper inside, and they approached to see what it was. 

Very carefully and without saying a thing, Thomas picked up the first one, it was a photo. The lighting didn't allow him to see it clearly, and the figure was covered in dust. He dusted the smooth surface with his hand, spreading a small cloud of dust that made him cough a little before he finally managed to see it clearly. 

"It's a cat." 

"A cat? Like, normal cat?" 

"Yeah, take a look" He casually showed the photo to Alexander, but his reaction was completely unexpected. He screamed and stepped back, a dull thud echoing through the house as his back hit the wall. What he saw in that picture was not a normal cat.

It was shaped like one, but its eyes were huge, yellow and bright, and the smile tore across its face unnaturally. Looking at it was so disturbing that Hamilton began to hyperventilate and Thomas dropped the picture to approach him.

"Alex? What is it? What happened?"

"The... the fuck... was that..?"

Thomas moved even closer and gently held his face with both hands, tilting it up, away from where the picture lied. "Alex, look at me." When he finally looked, their eyes met. "You need to tell me what's going on."

"I saw... I saw the big yellow eyes in the picture." His voice was low, he felt as if saying it out loud would make the thing that was watching them real. 

His worst fears were confirmed when, as he looked away slightly, he saw behind a crooked and indistinguishable painting's frame, long, gray fingers slowly crawling out, followed by a yellow-orange orb. From the edge of the eye, a crystalline drop formed and dripped onto the floor.

The noise made Thomas immediately look back, and as if reality returned to normal speed, suddenly the creature was no longer there. Alexander could not move. The corners of his vision were darkening in fear of blinking. His hands trembled as he grabbed the other's arms.

"Thomas..."

"Alexander, calm down. I'm here... look at me, look into my eyes, focus."

"I... thought you didn't like..."

Thomas actually smiled a little. "You're an idiot worrying about something like that in this situation." He gently put a strand of Hamilton's smooth, soft hair back in place with his fingertips. "It's not that bad, I feel comfortable with you."

"You mean it?" Alexander was starting to calm down. His hands involuntarily traveled up Thomas's arms to his shoulders, making him move even closer.

"I do." Thomas whispered against his lips, leaning his elbow on the wall without taking his other hand off Alexander's face.

Suddenly, there was nothing more to be said. His words were lost in the softness of the other's lips. Their shaky but relieved breaths mingled as Thomas explored his mouth with his tongue, sending waves of trust and courage through their bodies now pressed against each other.

The terror of what they were about to face disappeared along with everything else, they were alone in their own world. Alexander didn't even have time to feel embarrassed by the small frustrated "hum" he let out when Thomas pulled his lips away before being silenced with another kiss.

"Is that what it took?" Alexander said, his eyes closed as Thomas kissed every possible spot on his face.

"Hm?"

"It took a haunted house in a parallel reality for you to kiss me?"

"Shut up, I had no way of knowing you wanted that" Thomas chuckled softly.

“I’ll make sure you know from now on”

“I appreciate that” He didn't mean to sound so infatuated, but the silly grin gave him away. 10 points for James — he was right. Thomas really wanted this more than he realized, and now that it was a real possibility he couldn't help it.  "So... let's find a way to get out of here soon so you can make sure I know?" 

Alexander was about to answer when his attention was caught by an object on the table. A silver lantern was positioned right in the center, as if it were the main meal. It certainly hadn't been there before, but by now they both knew that things tended to appear out of nowhere in nightmares, and it usually happened when they were about to figure out what to do. Convenient, huh? Their theory about it is that there was some kind of trigger that activated the "powers" granted by the piece of Dick's soul inside them, and it usually had to do with strong emotions, which in turn were related to the nightmare they were facing. When Alexander pointed at the lantern, they looked at each other. Yeah, that makes sense. 

"Okay, I have a plan." Hamilton said, handing the flashlight to Thomas.

"I hate it when you say that."

"Clearly whatever this is, is after me." Alexander ignored the comment. "So let's lure it to me and you use this flashlight to, I dunno, vaporize it."

"And how are we doing that?"

The two stopped for a moment to think. It probably wouldn't be enough to point the flashlight at random cracks hoping that at some point the nightmare would disappear, they needed to expose it.

drip... drip... drip...

"What's that?" Alexander looked up, intrigued by the dripping noise coming from right above their heads.

"I don't know, but it's really annoying." Thomas frowned.

"Prob'ly second floor, micase come." Without thinking twice, he started walking out of the dining room through a door that was in the opposite direction from where they entered.

"Wait, what?" Thomas hesitated to follow.

"It means hurry up, Jeffshit."

" Cool , but are we just gonna go after the noise like that? We need to talk about this impulsiveness of yours, it's going to get us killed."

"Worked so far, hasn't it? Stop being a pussy and let's go."

It turns out Hamilton was right, the house had a second floor. They passed the kitchen and some other rooms, one of which had a red dim light coming out from under the door — probably not something they wanted to deal with, really. After that, a narrow staircase led to a second floor even darker than the first one, every step they took towards its end felt heavier as the wooden boards creaked beneath their feet.

This time, Hamilton was the one leading the way. They walked slowly down a hallway that was much more sinister than the previous one, along which several very similar rooms — small with a single bed and a nightstand — gave the impression that they were walking in circles. When they had already passed about six of those, Hamilton finally decided to say something.

“What the hell is this? How many people lived here?”

“Looks like children’s rooms…”

Indeed, all the rooms had colorful sheets on the bed and a few toys scattered on the floor, although everything was very dirty, dusty and looked like they had been taken straight from the 18th century.

When they turned right in the hallway, however, there was a room that was different from the others. The dripping sound grew louder and louder as they approached a white and gold double door, carved in a style that matched that of the Schuylers' mansion. Hamilton recognized it immediately.

“Hey, this' Peggy’s room.”

“How do you know that??” Thomas was genuinely impressed, Alex laughed at his expression.

"Last time I visited them, she called me there to badmouth people I've never met in my life. I'd never forget something like that, honey." He said it in a purposely exaggerated way to give it a comical tone, but Thomas couldn't help but almost fucking purring at the nickname.

The door creaked softly as it was opened by the two, revealing a spacious room, but for some reason all the furniture was destroyed, corroded, worn out. Right in the center, illuminated by a beam of light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, a bed was the only thing that seemed almost intact. Like everything else, it was large and refined, although the edges of the covers were slightly torn as if they had been gnawed by rats. On the bed, a single sleeping figure was breathing slowly. 

It was Peggy. She was right there, in long yellow silk pajamas, wearing her own face like a pale mask of peace. 

Confused, Alexander and Thomas approached to take a better look, and some new details intrigued them. Firstly, several places on the bed around the girl had deep rips that reached all the way to the mattress, as if caused by huge claws. In addition, some puddles of a smelly liquid soaked the pillows right next to her head. 

"Okay... what do you think this is?" Thomas asked. He couldn't stop staring at the morbid expression on the normally smiling face.

"This' the first time we've met the person inside their own Nightmare, isn't it? She seems... I dunno, some kind of enchanted sleep. I wonder if the solution is a true love's kiss?" Hamilton couldn't help but joke. Thomas rolled his eyes.

"If you want to try, go ahead."

"Thomas." Alexander said, in a very serious tone. "Don't you know how wrong it is to kiss unconscious people? That's harassment, as a lawyer I need to reprimand you."

"B-but- you were the one who-"

"’m just annoying you, silly" Alex turned back to face Paggy. "Anyways, I don't think that's the case. This is a Nightmare, a bad dream by definition, of course she'd be sleeping. Maybe the thing inside the walls is watching her the same way it seems to be watching me... maybe this is the final result of being observed by it; the person falls asleep to avoid the psychological trauma"

"Interesting theory" Thomas was genuinely impressed by how smart the other actually is "but what do we do- the flashlight! If it's observing from the cracks, it means they don't want to be seen, which means..."

"... We have to bring ‘em some light, yeah. That's what I think too"

Hamilton and Thomas then fell into a contemplative silence. It was more or less decided that they should use the flashlight to bring attention to the creature, but how? Slowly, at the same time, they both thought about that moment just before they were pulled into Peggy's nightmare.

She had commented that it felt lonely. Alexander promptly replied that he didn't feel lonely, and he could only say that because Thomas was with him. Ever since they entered, the Nightmare seemed to want to get closer, to make him look into its eyes and lose his sense of self, but Thomas' presence prevented that from happening every time. In that case, if they wanted to lure the nightmare out of its crack, out of the walls...

Hamilton approached and gently touched Thomas' hand, which he immediately took. "Tom... you need to get out of here. Leave me alone."

"What? No."

"Oh please, don't get all protective now, wanna get outta here or nah?"

They talked this through (Almost threw things at each other) and decided (Alexander decided) that Thomas would wait outside the door, hidden just behind the corner to observe what would happen when Alex was alone with Peggy. Assuming it would be more fit, Hamilton laid down next to the girl and waited.

The silence grew heavier with each passing second, and the dripping sound flooded his ears, preventing him from concentrating on anything else; it was even strangely comforting to have his mind empty, focused on just one repetitive and hypnotizing sound, causing everything to turn to smoke and blender before him.

The door creaked slightly, Alexander was more self-aware than he had ever been, and right next to him a soft noise drew his attention to the seemingly spontaneous appearance of a digital clock.

2:11 a.m.

He closed his eyes when the noises began. At first, they seemed like just soft footsteps, but as they got closer he heard the laments, a series of incoherent and inhuman groans carried by the static air of the room. The agony of not being able to see what was slowly approaching was great, but fear has a much greater paralyzing power than one imagines before being in a truly terrifying situation. The bed makes a soft noise as a weight creeps over it. He won't notice if it looks closer, will he? After so much time alone, an amalgam of feelings of the abandoned, wandering through the darkness of a peer's mind, is it so bad that it wants a new friend? 

Hamilton feels the warm breath against his cheek. It is shaking with excitement, the tortured noises it makes are so intense that he can't tell if the liquid dripping on his face is saliva or tears. His eyes open little by little without him being able to help it. Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. 

What was before him was a horror beyond belief. A grotesque, curved creature with rough, ragged skin of a grayish tone. In some regions of its body there were several bizarre eyes of different sizes and pupils that multiplied over time. Hovering just above Hamilton's head, the bulge dotted with small eyes that could be called the creature's head watched him closely with one eye larger than all the others inside its gaping mouth lined with twisted teeth. The location of this larger eyeball made its breath come out in a choking sound. The arms, too thin for his body, ended in even more disproportionate fingers that rested on both sides of the man, who watched with eyes now wide with shock as the creature readjusted the position of its excessively short legs.

From all the eyes spread across the body of the Nightmare, constant tears of emotion flowed. They were not content to look at just one point, they seemed to want to swallow every inch of Hamilton's body with their gaze.

That is until it realized that it was being stared at. When the large eye in its mouth met the brown eyes, it let out a choking sound of suffering and stumbled backwards. No. No. He can't see us. We're going to be alone again!

That scream of pain awakened Alexander's stiffened senses. "THOMAS! NOW!"

With a delay of less than five seconds, Thomas entered the room. He fumbled with the button to turn on the flashlight when he came across the Nightmare clumsily crawling towards him, wanting to get back to the crack in the door. He blocked the door! He blocked the door!

Desperately, the creature tried to hide behind its thin arms, but they were not even close to enough to prevent the intense light from entering and burning each of its eyes. One by one, the pulpits cracked and disappeared, the body melted completely until there was only a pile of...

Cats?

Alexander quickly jumped out of bed to approach Thomas, finding on his way a pile of semi-decomposed corpses of several cats, all of them without eyes. It took a few more seconds of astonishment for them to realize the extent of the cruelty and suffering that these cats exuded. It was even heavier than the other Nightmares they had faced. They looked at the bed, instead of Peggy there was an older woman watching.

It was a sinister figure; a black veil covered most of her face, leaving only her mouth wrinkled and twisted in penance. She was holding a cat in her right hand and...

A pair of yellow eyes in her left.

They woke up, still feeling the horror of what they had just witnessed. At least they could take comfort in the fact that the dream ends as soon as the dreamer opens their eyes and faces reality, and the reality was that the three of them were sitting on the kitchen floor.

The muffled sounds of music and loud talking indicated the party was still going on, even despite the large clock on the wall indicating it was almost 4 a.m.

For a glorious moment, everything was calm. Peggy was sleeping peacefully when Hamilton picked up the small sphere of darkness from her lap, and inside it he saw the battered, huddled figure of a cat. He didn't want to keep looking at it for long, and he didn't need to: he had something much better to look at.

It's almost ironic to think that a few hours ago he wouldn't have imagined the possibility of throwing himself at Thomas Jefferson, still on the floor of the Schuyler mansion's staff's kitchen, climbing into his lap as if his life depended on it. Thomas, taken by surprise, barely had time to wrap his arms around the shorter man's waist before he was vigorously kissed, letting his tongue run freely through the inside of the other's mouth in a way he hadn't had the freedom to do before, when they were kinda busy with the possibility of having their souls vaporized, or worse.

It was only when Thomas started fumbling with the buttons of Alex’s suit, his tongue still shoved in his mouth, they realized Peggy was still there and starting to recover consciousness. Leaning against a leg of the table in the center of the room, the girl mumbled something and began to move as if she were uncomfortable in that position. Holding their breath, the two looked in her direction, expecting her to suddenly open her eyes, as had happened with everyone else up until then. Miraculously, and for the first time the universe seemed to be on their side, she just sighed in dismay and returned to a state of deep sleep.

"What do we do now?" Thomas asked, helping the other to his feet.

"Get out of here as fast as possible before she wakes up?"

"Sounds perfect"

Neither of them needed any extra encouragement to get out as quickly as possible to the back of the hallways. Somewhere between then and the moment they somehow found the way through the elaborate network of corridors and staircases, Alex’s legs had found their way to wrap around Thomas’ torso, who just lifted him effortlessly so, until they entered through a side door in the second-floor, which was thankfully empty. This was the time at the party when half the guests had already retired to their rooms, while the other half were far from doing so, dancing in the ballroom. There was only one unidentifiable figure sprawled at the foot of the Greek statue in the entrance hall, but whoever it was didn't seem in any shape to witness the clumsy lovers stumble into Jefferson's room.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Alex is pressed against the wall. Before he can make one of the many comments he always has about everything, warm, demanding lips cover his in the best way possible, one that makes him melt at the contact. Thomas pulls him to his chest, and they are so tight against each other that it is impossible to distinguish where the emerald green turns to magenta, and in the next instant there are no more layers of fabric between them, their skin rubs against each other in a perfect contrast conceived by the most skilled painter; another chapter in the pages of history, another secret to be whispered by two souls, even if they do not yet know the meaning of what they sigh and moan.

There’s something gracious about the way Alexander falls to bed, his posture all open and exposed for Thomas to admire. If they can trust each other with their lives and even more, nothing less than trust would be offered once Thomas finally got lube and a condom from his suitcase, and suddenly Hamilton wouldn't be inclined to make fun of him for packing so much for such a short trip.

“ yes -” Alex nearly hissed when Thomas rubbed his rim. He enjoyed the cold and yet burning sensation when the other slipped one finger inside.

“You feel amazing, Alex” Thomas praised, mumbling between the tender kisses he was placing on the inside of Hamilton’s tights, just loud enough for him to hear. The second finger joined the other one, carefully and slowly at first, but as soon as Alex moans became louder and irregular, he sped up to fulfill the implied request shouted to the sheets. “Can’t wait for me to be deep inside, can you?”

The way he arched his back in response showed that he really liked the idea.

At the same time he added a third finger to finish stretching him open, Thomas also grabbed Alex’s dripping, needy cock to give it some strokes at the same pace his other hand was moving. The double stimulation got Alexander out of his mind, bucking his hips forward and feeling his hands go numb from just how strong he was gripping the sheets underneath him.

When Thomas decides it was enough foreplay and moves to kiss the other man, when he sees the way Alex’s looking at him- a silent gasp, the murmur of a meaningless name if not attached, but everything when tied to the mundane concept of love is everything they both can hear as they inebrieate in the sensation caused by their union. No words would be needed, but still they praise, demand and interject; because they wanted it for so long. Because they need it. Because they’re thirsty and because they’re human.

“Just like that-” Alex says breathlessly as Thomas moved his hips in the exact rhythm he needed, the feeling was incredible and almost intolerable at the same time, because there was no way something could be so pleasurable. It’s not like he was an innocent virgin or anything of the sort at all ; but this time something is different- the world seems to shake and turn when he realizes what's new.

He loves Thomas. And, God , Thomas loves him back.

Thomas ascertains the very same thing as he starts moving faster and unsteady, his heart rate increasing with the ascending burning sensation on his lower abdomen. He’s fucking Alex in the exact way he has been secretly imagining doing for the last few weeks? Months? He’s not sure anymore, but the outcome is certainly better than anything he could have invented by himself. 

Their moans, groans and sudden pleas of faster and harder mix together increasingly abundant until both reach the peak of pleasure at the same time. Alexander comes with a numb cry of Thomas’ name as the other throws his head back, providing a beautiful view to the man under him. They breathe heavily trying to calm from their orgasms, feeling the world, which had previously spun with the adrenaline rush, come back into place. Thomas leans down to kiss Alexander one last time. Feeling the weight of the tiredness from the Nightmare before mix with the pleasant sensation sex had left deep in their muscles, they took a shower. 

“Good night” Thomas whispered, eyes closed against the back of Alex’s neck. They went back to bed together, which was… weird, but not awkward at all. The position they were in now — Thomas hugging Hamilton from behind — was too comfortable for either of them to worry about the details it would bring to their already much-changed-for-such-a-short-span-of-time relationship. They would have time to think about that another day. 

Instead of answering, Alex grabbed Thomas’ hand and gave its back a small kiss. He needed no words, not this once. That was enough for them both. They were enough.

Hamilton woke up early. The birdsong scattered throughout the trees on the property, as well as a thin strip of sunlight, entered through the curtains, which rustled slightly in the wind that came through the half-open windows. Still groggy from sleep, he slightly turned to stretch his arms and legs, but had to stop in mid-movement when he remembered that he was not alone.

During the night, he and Thomas had somehow switched positions and now he was the one with his limbs lazily thrown over the other's body. Alexander could thank the heavens for waking up first as he shyly pulled away a little to observe: Thomas was facing backwards from him and curled up in a position that for any normal human being would be uncomfortable, with one hand turned inwards below his jawline, the other under the pillow and his legs intertwined twice somehow.

Alex had to smile at how peaceful he looked, despite the weird sleeping position. If he could live forever in those moments, for him it would be perfect.

Unfortunately, that was not the plan the universe had stored for them. Not before the gears of time moved mercilessly, because something was about to change in the lines of history.

Yes. Something was about to change in the lines of history.