Say No To This
James Madison never thought he'd live to see the day when he was irritated by Thomas taking care of him. But, here he was, fuming inside as Jefferson tossed another blanket over him in the midst of a tangent. The room was an absolute blur of flowing magenta, Thomas's pacing, Thomas's hair (which was bouncing almost as much as his feet were), and an abundance of rapid-fire words.
"... And I can't believe I didn't even come to see you yesterday or the night before. You could have been floored, for Christ's sake, and everything just completely slipped my mind! The fact that he had the audacity to say those things; and here you are, probably even sicker because of it... I would throttle him if Laurens hadn't already done it. I'll send in my letter, and appeal to Washington, instead—"
"Thomas."
"— I heard Lee's getting in-school suspension for one day. One day! One fucking day, James. Just because his uncle's the superintendent, he gets away with this. This is why we need stronger independent power! So the system doesn't get corrupt and bring disgusting people like him further and further away from what they deserve. This prick is asking for someone to bring him to task. What he called you—"
"Thomas."
Jefferson was wildly gesticulating now, his hands flying around him, only adding to the blur. "A kick in the ass from Laurens isn't enough! He needs to be taken out of the damn council. Somebody's gotta stand up to his mouth, James, I swear, I couldn't even take it—"
"Thomas!"
Thomas turned his head to face Madison, eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden raise in volume of James's hoarse voice. Madison, now grateful for Jefferson's attention, coughed to clear his throat. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" Thomas was indignant, an irritated fire burning in his eyes. This level of sheer anger was uncommon, and rather unnerving to James.
"Stop being so angry. You shouldn't have stormed out and you shouldn't have gotten so angry." James's eyes widened. This was a new sensation, this assertiveness, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Indeed, it was laced with his typical timidness, but it was new in whole.
Jefferson arched an eyebrow. "Why not? You heard what he said to you."
"Thomas, it was nothing." James looked away.
"You can't possibly mean that. He called you withered and little and an apple and—"
"I said it's nothing. It's okay, you really didn't need to get so angry..."
"I didn't need to?" Jefferson was bordering on dangerous, setting the both of them in highly uncharacteristic moods. "How could I possibly tolerate his intentions?"
"Thomas..."
"How the fuck could I possibly tolerate his intentions? And how could you? How could you take someone saying something like that to someone like you?" Jefferson's eyes widened and his eyebrows arched even more. There was a long, tense pause. "Do people treat you like that often?"
"Thomas, not exactly... I mean..." Madison was rapidly losing his fire, retreating into his blankets.
"Oh," Thomas's eyes narrowed in realization.
"It's okay."
"James. It is not okay."
"It's okay. I'm nothing special, I know. And," Madison managed a weak smile, "I am kind of withered."
Thomas wheeled completely around on his feet to stare directly at James, who promptly shrunk even more under this enraged glare. "Don't you dare use his words against yourself. Do you hear me? Don't you dare."
James gulped.
"It's ridiculous —absolutely ridiculous— how much you're missing when you see yourself. You don't even see it. You don't understand. You are one of the single most intelligent people I've ever met. You are one of the most modest people alive, and you never fail to put other people ahead of yourself, either. That is fucking admirable, James!" Thomas wore a strange expression that Madison could only describe as earnest. He quickly wrote this judgment off as erroneous in time for Jefferson to continue. "And another thing. Beyond that, you're adorable. You're too damn cute for any man to understand, including, apparently, yourself. And I don't give a shit if you're sick all the time. You're fucking hot. Got it? You're fucking hot and I really, really care about you. You are a thousand times the man Charles Lee will ever be. Some things need to be said. This is one of them. You don't deserve to be treated as or called anything less than spectacular." Thomas breathed once. "And while we're speaking of thousands, you're way beyond a ten, Jemmy. You're at least a five-thousand."
James Madison was a quiet person, but right then, he was speechless. Well, for at least the ten seconds of just staring at Thomas in awe. "You... You called me Jemmy."
Thomas didn't quite flush, but his features softened in a rare show of vulnerability. "I... Yeah. I've always called you that in my mind. I guess it sort of slipped out."
Madison smiled, feeling his ears warm up. They were definitely redder than before. "I like it."
This really was all James could manage to say. He was flustered— caught off guard completely by the absolute honesty of what Thomas had said. It wasn't that James believed him about being spectacular, exactly; it was the expression and the tone and just the words themselves that truly surprised him. Jefferson was always exaggerating, and James knew this, even expected it. But suddenly, in this one outburst, Thomas had been nothing but down-to-earth. Madison had always thought his devotion to Thomas was uneven, and that the sentiment was never returned in full. Certainly Thomas liked him back, but most of the expressions of affection were, James thought, just Jefferson being his extravagant self, and had nothing to do with Madison himself. At least, this was what he'd believed until now. And James wasn't even sure they were dating.
But he would definitely be happy if they were dating.
"You meant all of that?" Madison finally asked, his voice small. "You... You weren't exaggerating?"
Thomas looked at him and took a deep breath. "Look... I may not be the most honest person. Or the most modest person. Or even the most personable person. But this... I mean what I say right now. I mean it, James, I'm devoted to you. There's nothing I wouldn't do. I'd— I'd found a college for you. I'd buy five-hundred-million acres of land for you, at any price. I'd make us mac and cheese every day for the rest of my life, whether that's just as friends or not. I mean it. I really, really care for you, Jemmy. I don't know what we are, exactly, but I really, really care for you."
James stared at Thomas again. It seemed Jefferson hadn't failed in blowing him away. "I don't know what we are, either."
Jefferson took on a sort of gentleness that suited him surprisingly well. "What would you like to be?"
James thought for a long moment. "Well, I'd like to be your boyfriend."
Jefferson finally grinned, and he plopped down onto the couch beside Madison. "I never thought I'd live to see the day." With this, James decided to act out of joyful impulse, turning his head to catch Thomas's lips. And he almost succeeded— had it not been for a loud ringing coming from Jefferson's back pocket that made the pair of them jump back with surprise.
Thomas pulled his phone out, glancing at the screen. Angelica Schuyler was calling. Hastily, he accepted the call, finding James's hand through the blankets and holding onto it. "Hey, Angelica. Feeling better?"
"Hi, Thomas. Yeah, I am, but I've heard the council's gone to hell without me?" Angelica's voice held its typical briskness.
"Well, Laurens socked the arrogant embarrassment of a president we have and both he and poor Hamilton are missing in action, so I'd say that's a mess." Jefferson leaned against Madison gently, settling in by his shoulder.
"Jesus Christ." Angelica sighed. "So what happened?"
"Lee's suspended in-school for one day. Haven't heard about Hamilton or Laurens. I've been kicked down into a standard council member position for one meeting for 'crude language' and 'misconduct'. That's it." Thomas shook his head. "I can't believe you're not the president."
"Well, I might just be president, now," Angelica said dryly. "Actually, I called wondering if you'd seen Peggy."
"Peggy? No, I'm with Jem— James."
"Oh, well, thank you. It's nothing important, I was just wondering. She's probably out with Eliza. Have fun, you two!"
"Thanks, Angelica; good to know you're feeling better." Thomas hit the red button to hang up, sliding his phone back in his pocket. He turned his attention back to Madison, a smug smile on his face. "Now, where were we?"
• • •
"Alexander, are you alright?"
"I have so much work to do."
Eliza crossed her arms nervously. It had been nearly a week since the impromptu meeting she knew had brought his relationship with John to an unsteady end, and, as far as the middle Schuyler sister knew, it'd been about that long since Hamilton had slept or eaten sufficiently, too. "You can't bury yourself in work like this. You'll only feel worse."
Alexander didn't look up from the screen of his laptop and the mess of notes laid out before him on the desk, but he shook his head. "I can't stop till I get this plan by Washington and through the council."
"Alex, stop this." Eliza sat down on Hamilton's bed, finding a spot by the foot that wasn't entirely covered in stacks of books. "Alright? You need to stop this. Let me take you somewhere. We can get ice cream or something. Please, just take a break."
Alex seemed to pale for some unspoken reason. "I don't want ice cream. I'm sorry, Betsey, I can't stop till I get my plan through the council."
Eliza picked one of the books up from Alex's bed, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. "What plan is it? Maybe I can help."
"No," Alex said, brisk but with an apologetic quality around the edge of the reply. "It's a plan for a GSA. I have to work out logistics for funding, then leadership, guidance, scheduling, and getting it through administration, but it has to go through the council first."
"I can help. Take a break," Eliza looked at Alexander and felt sympathy well up inside her. Coping be damned, he didn't deserve this.
"Thank you, but I can't." Alex sighed. "Are you an ally, by the way?"
Eliza smiled. She hadn't necessarily intended to bring up the topic, but Alexander had asked. "Actually, I'm into girls."
"Oh," Alex grinned momentarily, glancing up at Eliza. "Girls are quite wonderful."
"I agree." Eliza laughed lightly. "Which is why you shouldn't pass up the opportunity to let one take you out as friends and help you take a break."
Alexander would have laughed, but he was typing too quickly to spare the moment. "Thank you, but I have to keep working."
"Alexander."
"I know..."
"Take a break, you'll feel better. I'll feel better."
"I'd love to go..."
"You can. It'll be lovely."
Alex shook his head sharply, stubborn as always. "I can't stop till I get this plan through the council; I'll lose my seat if I don't get it through the council."
Eliza sighed, frustrated. No amount of trying seemed to be leading anywhere, and Alexander's miserable rut seemed to be staying firmly where it was. She took a deep breath in, not wanting to give up, but was caught mid-breath by the sight of the clock on Alex's bedside table. "It's almost nine."
"Okay."
"Alex, I've got to go." Eliza stood up reluctantly, sliding her purse across her body and hesitating. "Please take a break soon. You really, really need one."
Alex looked up at Eliza, offering a dull smile. "I will try to get away. Thank you."
Eliza bit the inside of her cheek, leaving Alex's bedroom and closing the door behind her.
The doorknob clicked and Alexander exhaled.
He was alone again.
It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Eliza's kindness and care; he certainly did. It was just so much easier for Alex to do... This. Just what he was doing. Immersing himself in his work was one of the only constants in his life— whenever things got rough, Alexander could always count on words and books and papers and pages to keep him busy until his mind and emotions were sufficiently numbed. Working got things done. Working was planned. Working was an easy retreat that Alex now craved like a drug. He may have even craved real drugs; the amount of caffeine in his system was about triple the amount of sleep he'd gotten all week. And perhaps drugs would have compelled Alexander to actually do something— John had knocked him out, and he'd fallen apart. It didn't matter how smart he was, Alex's words had failed him. His most dependable ally had let him down in his hour of need. And without his strongest weapon, he was defenseless, so Hamilton merely coped, drowning himself in a hurricane of work. The schedule had been for Alex to go to school and work on writing and planning, and then come home and work more. Additionally, it was a busy week for Henry Knox and his wife, meaning they'd had meetings day and night since Sunday. So the only people really there to take care of Alex were Eliza and himself.
Long story short, there was trouble in the air, and one could smell it. Alexander was weak; he would have needed only one provocation to set him over the edge.
And this he received.
The doorbell rang.
Alexander reluctantly got up from his chair, neglecting to close his laptop. He opened the door, stepping out into the hallway and opening the front door with a sweep of his arm.
To Alex's surprise, on the doorstep, there stood a girl.
She looked about his age; this girl had long, curly hair, wide and currently fearful eyes, and was wrapped rather hastily in a deep red coat that blew about her in the slight breeze.
She looked helpless. She spoke.
"Alexander Hamilton?"
Alex rubbed one eye, surprised. "At your service."
The girl breathed out a sigh of relief. She was beautiful. "Maria. Maria Reynolds. I know you're a man of a honor... I'm so sorry to bother you at home, but I don't know where to go, and I came here all alone..."
Alexander blinked. "Please, come in."
She followed Alex through the doorway, shaking her head slightly at his silent offer to take her coat for her. "My boyfriend's in college. We've been dating since my famil— we've been dating since I was fifteen. He's... He's been beating me, cheating me, mistreating me..."
Alexander took Maria's hand, a gesture of sympathy that matched his now furrowed brow. She continued as he walked with her to the living room and sat with her on the couch.
"I live in his apartment, and he left me there. He's just up and gone." Maria looked scared, and Alex only now noticed the bruise across her cheek. It had been revealed partially through the slight tear tracks in her concealer— clearly a conscious effort had been made to hide it. Alex wondered sadly if this girl was hiding more injuries. "I heard you were good at negotiating and comforting and knowing what to do, and I heard you lived with the Knoxes. I didn't know where else to turn. I'm sorry... I don't have the means to go on."
Alexander looked at Maria, deep in thought. "It's alright. We'll figure this out. Do you know of anywhere else you could stay? Could you tell me if you have any more injuries? Do you need any money, or food, or water?"
Maria's wide eyes were unblinking. "No... My family disowned me last year because I'm bi. I haven't got anywhere to go. He... He hits me all over. I'm not sure. I'm not sure. I... I don't know what I need."
"It's alright. I'll help you." Alex pressed a quick kiss to Maria's hand to comfort her. "What's his name?"
"James Reynolds," she replied. "He wants to marry me. He's already having me use his name. I don't know what to do."
"Holy..." Hamilton shook his head. "We're going to sort this out, okay?"
Maria nodded, closing her eyes. She looked close to tears. "Okay."
"You said you're bi?"
"Yes."
Alex almost smiled. "I have another friend who might be able to help you, too. For now, I'll give her a call and see if you could spend the night at her house. And I could give you a little money for future use. Does that sound okay?"
She opened her eyes again, looking at Alex with an unfathomably grateful expression. "You're too kind."
Alexander shook his head slightly. Surely this reprieve from his work could be considered a break, and surely it could appease Eliza. His focus returned to the girl in front of him. Despite— or perhaps in spite of —the bruise and obvious fear that filled her, Maria was purely beautiful. She wore red lipstick that conveyed a resilience about her. The warm brown in her eyes sparkled. She was breathtaking, and she seemed caring. Sweet, even.
Alexander found himself leaning towards her. She had mentioned comfort upon her arrival...
"Thank you," Maria whispered. Her lips were so close to his. So close. "Thank you."
Maria's arms slid around Hamilton's neck. She moved closer. His mind was suddenly a whirlwind of subtext from their conversation and the physical nature of their interaction, from which he began to conclude that perhaps other than pecuniary consolation would be acceptable. His hands were on her waist. He moved closer. It was all happening so fast. They slid closer still. They leaned in.
Then her mouth was on his.
He did not say no.