Chapter 5
Alexander woke up in a strange bed with a horrible headache, and for a few alarming seconds he thought he had been kidnapped.
The blankets were soft, almost silky, and that was far too nice for a kidnapping. The room was painted a milky beige color, and the warm light coming from behind the closed curtains made it look like one of those generic adds for bed sheets.
So, decidedly this was not a kidnapper's hide out.
He definitely hadn't slept over at John's again, thankfully, as that was a habit he was trying to break. Lafayette had left for France a week ago. Herc would have a fit over those curtains. He and Aaron were fighting again, so it wasn't his apartment.
As he tried to think of who's apartment this could be, he slowly remembered the night before.
He remembered feeling really awful about what happened with Jefferson, and at the time, walking through two miles of snow didn't seem that bad. He remembered being so so so cold, his body wanted to shut down. Lay down and never wake up kind of deal. He remembered being wrapped in something warm and soft, and a warm gravelly voice saying something to him. He remembered soft brown eyes and mint tea and warm blankets. He remembered pink wings.
This was Jefferson's bed.
First things first, how did he get here? The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the couch, Jefferson passed out on the floor. Shouldn't he be lying on Jefferson's overly expensive rug?
He looked at the slightly open door, seeing just a peek of the hallway outside. It was clearly early in the morning, but that was usual for Alexander. He usually woke up hours before sun rise.
Alexander slowly crept out of the bed, and made his way through the strangely average-looking house to the living room. He'd been here before, so it wasn't that strange seeing it, but it still felt....weird.
Where were the velvet rugs and pillows with feathers imported from France? I mean, the first time he'd been here he assumed all the really fancy stuff was just in some other section of the house. But nope, surprisingly Jefferson's house was rather on the smallish side. Small for the one million-something dollars Jefferson had supposedly inherited.
Jefferson was asleep on the couch, snoring slightly. Thomas's eyelids fluttered a little, and the pink glow from his wings made him look almost ethereal in the low light. The southerner seemed weirdly peaceful in his sleep, a stark contrast from his annoying behavior when awake. I mean, Alex would have chosen his loud, annoying, arguing awake version over this quiet sleeping one, but it was pleasant for the moment.
Alexander carefully sat on the edge of the couch, making sure not to disturb Thomas's sleep. His pink wings fluttered a bit when Alex sat down, but he did not wake up. Alexander sighed in relief, as this would be a rather compromising position for him to be woken up to.
Alexander gently brushed Thomas's hair out of his face, tracing the curve of his hairline. The sleeping man murmured something incoherent, and Alexander smiled, chuckling slightly. God, this pompous asshole was cute.
He got up from the couch and grabbed his hoodie at the door. He slipped on the slightly damp jacket and walked out the door, trying not to make a sound as he closed it quietly behind him.
***
Thomas shot up from the couch, his breath ragged and his face sweaty. Maybe he'd had a bad dream. The curtains were drawn, and the room was cast in dark shadows, the only light an orange gold that seeped through the shades. It must have been late afternoon. Crap.
Rubbing his eyes, he looked around the room. No Alexander.
He clumsily got up from the couch, his wild hair blocking most of his vision. If it really was late afternoon, Alexander probably would have left hours ago. Thomas hated waking up late, but his sleep schedule was so all over the place that it was impossible to tell when he'd wake up.
He stumbled over to the dining room table, finding a note scribbled in messy writing. "Thanks for the clothes."
Thomas laughed out loud, a smile sneaking onto his face. He slapped his hand to his face, still giggling. He didn't know why he was laughing, it wasn't particularly funny. But at the moment it seemed hilarious. Hilarious how Hamilton had showed up in the middle of the night, soaked to the bone. Hilarious how his wings fluttered whenever Thomas leaned close to him. Hilarious, at the moment, was the perfect word to describe his emotion.
He sat down at the table, leaning back in a chair. A giant grin was glued to his face.
Thomas pulled out his laptop, placing it gently on the table. Didn't really have anything to do, so he spent a couple of minutes scrolling through social media. That quickly became boring so he turned the computer off.
Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock seemed to move with the same ambition as a slug, and Thomas wasn't in the mood to be bored. There was nothing to do, really, in his house. He'd cleared it out after a particularly nasty relationship the year before, and it was very much like a blank slate.
Thomas tapped a erratic beat on the table's smooth wood. His wings spread out behind him, flapping as if they were struggling to stay awake.
He turned on his phone, checking for new messages. How many minutes had it been since he'd sat down? 40? 35? He checked the time. It'd been 11 minutes.
He groaned, about to put his phone back when it buzzed in his hand. "The fuck is this?"
The screen read the word Hamilton in big white letters. Maybe he shouldn't let him know he's in his contacts. He cleared his throat before pressing the 'answer' button. "Hello, who is this?"
"You don't have my number in your phone?"
"Alexander?" Thomas asked, not used to hearing him sound genuinely hurt.
"No shit, Sherlock."
Thomas scoffed. "What do you want?" He tried not to sound too annoyed, because honestly he was glad to have something to take his mind off the crushing boredom.
The audio made scraping sound, like the phone had dropped, followed by a very loud "SHIT!". Thomas suppressed a laugh before asking if Alexander was okay.
"I'm fine, but my phone case has a big scratch on it now." Alexander audibly groaned.
"You were saying?"
"Wha- oh yeah, right!" Alexander exclaimed. "I was wondering if you'd like to go with my and the crew to this karaoke club later? It's super fun and-"
"Did you just un-ironically call you and your friends 'the crew'?"
"Oh, fuck you! I'm trying to be nice, asshole!"
"Fine, fine." Thomas surrendered. "Where's the club?"
"On the corner of Smith and Shelly. Can't miss it, it's got a giant neon sign on the roof."
Thomas laughed. "Sounds fun." He said sarcastically.
"No, really! You should come, I swear on my life it'll be fun."
"I'll go, but I'm not going to have fun." Thomas grumbled.
Alexander laughed, a clear and happy sound.
"We'll see about that!"
***
Thomas pulled up to the curb, a block away from the club. As he neared the building, he could clearly see Alexander and the "crew" hanging around outside. He brushed some lint off his long sleeved black shirt, walking towards the small group.
As promised, a giant green and yellow neon sign stood high up on the roof to the building. "Reynolds Karaoke" Thomads said to himself. "Reynolds...Reynolds... I've heard that name before."
Just as he was trying to figure out who the name belonged to, Alexander ran up to him, looking like he was about to jump from excitement.
He stopped short of Thomas, collecting himself. He slowed to a mild walk before reaching Thomas. "You came." Alexander said quietly, but his happy tone betrayed him.
"Nothing better to do." Thomas said, almost defensively. His wings arched behind him, the feathers bristling. Alex laughed, punching him in the arm.
"I know! You literally have nothing in your house! Do you even own a TV?"
Thomas was about to respond when Hercules walked up behind Alexander. He looked rather grumpy, which was strange considering his usual attitude was a just a bit different.
"I'm designated driver again." Hercules grumbled, staring down at the grimy sidewalk.
"That's what you get for being the dad friend, dude. Besides, you both need to stay sober for what Laf's planning for you tonight." Alex joked.
Hercules blushed before punching him in the arm. "Shut up."
Alexander and his friends seemed to punch each other in the arm a lot. Thomas guessed that it was a sign of endearment.
Besides the other sign of endearment which is joking about your friends sex life, apparently.
Thomas interrupted the two men, a question still bothering him. "Isn't Reynolds the name of that girl Angelica's been bringing 'round the ofafice lately? What's her name.....uh....Maria! Yeah, it's Maria, right?"
Alex looked up at the neon sign, his expression changing into one of a question. "Yeah, I think so.... Hey, Herc, you know who owns this place?"
Hercules looked up from the ground, his eyes travelling to the sign as well. "Yeah, I think James Reynolds does. Used to be Reynolds' and Sons shoe store before James inherited it."
There was a awkward silence for a moment, no one really knowing what to say. Alex broke it by mentioning that they should go join Lafayette and Laurens inside the club.
"Good idea." Thomas said, following Hercules and Alexander into the building.
***
Loud music blasted from various speakers around the room, and the room was filled with people dancing. A stage was placed at the font of the room, big enough for at least two or three people to dance around on. Or sing.
Hercules spotted Lafayette and Laurens at a table near the stage, which was pretty easy since John was waving at them like a crazed lunatic. Alexander, of course, ran up to greet them immediately, complete with hugs and a few cheek kisses for Lafayette.
"Mon ami!" Lafayette exclaimed when they saw Thomas. "What are you doing here?"
"Alexander invited me." Thomas mumbled, blushing slightly. He rubbed his arm uncomfortably. Lafayette and his relationship was complicated- they'd met in Paris years before, just after Thomas had graduated from college. Neither of them felt like they'd ever meet their soulmates, so hey, why not have a fling. It was the first time Thomas realised he liked people that weren't girls.
Lafayette laughed before walking over to Herc to talk about....something. Laurens looked suspiciously at Alex and Thomas, but said nothing. Thomas just stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do or say. He didn't know how to act around Alexander's friends. What was he even doing here? It stupid, it's just stupi-
"Hey," Alexander's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Wanna dance with me?"
Thomas coughed. "What?"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "You. Me. Dance?"
Thomas looked at Alexander, unsure. "Really?"
Alexander nodded, and without a second thought, pulled Thomas onto the dance floor. Thomas sputtered, but didn't protest. He grabbed Alex's hand.
The song ended and a new song started to play just as Thomas spotted a familiar face. "Angelica?"
Angelica Schuyler was dressed in a pastel pink dress, complete with pink high heels. Her curly hair was put up in a bun, and she looked insanely pretty. Standing next to her was a woman in a blood red dress, her makeup the same shade. Thomas knew in an instant who she was.
"Maria Reynolds."
The woman looked at him strangely, but nodded. Her dark curly hair rolled over her shoulders, and her striking appearance made Thomas wonder why he absent noticed her before. "Doesn't your husband own this place?"
Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. Angelica appeared to have grabbed Maria's arm after mention of James Reynolds.
"Hey," Alex said softly "Maria? Are you ok?"
Thomas wondered why he asked that until he noticed the dark trail of bruises that were poorly hid by Maria's hair.
Maria opened her mouth to speak but Angelica grabbed her arm gently, a subtle signal that it wasn't wise to say whatever it was she was about to say. "She's fine." She said flatly, her tone pointedly indicating the conversation was over.
Alexander made a quiet noise of protest, but didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled Thomas over to a corner.
"I think something's up. That woman's got a bunch of bruises and it looks real bad." Alex paused for a second, looking down. When he looked back up his eyes looked angry. "What should we do?"
"We?"
"Yeah, 'we'. You're not gonna leave me to deal with this alone are you, because that would be a dick move."
Thomas was about to protest to this accusation, but faltered, rethinking this decision. He grabbed Alexander by the shoulders, looking him dead in the eyes. "Listen, Hamilton, we need to think about this carefully. What if we're jumping to conclusions-"
Alexander cut him off. "Jumping to conclusions? Really? You would charge a guy for murder if he looked at you funny."
"I think that's an exaggeration."
"Jefferson, we have to do something! What if her husband is beating her? We have to help."
Thomas sighed, but nodded his head. "Alright. Want me to rally the guys? If this Reynolds guy really is abusing her we might need backup. Besides, are we sure it's safe for her? What if she has nowhere to go, what if he hurts her?"
Alexander paused, thinking for a minute. "We have to talk to Maria. Find out the best way to help her."
"Now there's a plan I can get behind."
***
They found Maria sitting alone at a booth in the corner, a can of root beer sitting in front of her.
She turned to look at them, but when she saw their faces she quickly looked down.
"Root beer?" Thomas asked, eyebrow raised.
"I don't drink." Maria said quietly, not looking them in the eye.
Thomas leaned down to look at her face to face. Maria glanced at him, her face turning cold. "Listen, Maria, we saw the bruises. Is your husband hurting you in any way?" Thomas asked, his tone gentle and calm.
Maria turned to look up at him, or eyes wide with something that looked very much like fear. "You can't tell anyone." She whispered, more to herself than to them.
"Why? What would he do if we told?" Alex asked, his tone more urgent than necessary.
Maria shrank back. She looked down at her root beer again, fiddling with the opener. "Just- just please don't tell anyone, ok? I'll be all right."
"We just want to help-" Alexander reached out to touch her arm, but she flinched away.
"I have to go," Maria got up from the booth, pushing past Alexander into the swarm of dancers.
Knowing he'd go after her. Thomas tugged at Alexander's sleeve, signaling that it was time to leave.
Alexander nodded, following him back to their table. Thomas sat down, but Alex stood, tapping his foot anxiously.
"That was... bad."
Thomas nodded solemnly. "No kidding."
Thomas tried to ignore the bad feeling this club was starting to give him. Just... the feeling of the place made him uneasy. The bright yellow of the seats had dulled into a dingy mustard color. The excessive amount of fluorescent lights. It made him kind of queasy. And now with the Maria thing. Argh, coming here was a mistake.
Thomas was just about to attempt to leave when Alex grabbed him by the shoulder. "Wanna get out of here? I know a good all-night coffee shop near here , and to be honest this place is giving me the creeps."
Thomas nodded, laughing slightly. "I thought you'd never ask."