The Greatest Changes Do Hurt The Most

by imfeelinguntouchable

Summary:

When marriages fail you either call a marriage councillor or a divorce lawyer.

Unless you are the following people:

Thomas and Angelica Jefferson, who decided to council themselves

Eliza and Alex Hamilton, who just instead make out with the nearest cute gay available

John Laurens and Maria Reynolds, who arnet married unless you count the platonic playground wedding. They dont know how they got mixed up with the Hamiltons but all is fair in love, after all.

Or, angst fic in which relationships must be fixed. Some are salvaged, others are let go. New ones are formed.

Notes:

Is this gonna be good? Excellent question. I doubt it. Still, they are gonna try. They're flawed people. And I want them to try.

(Yes the title is a line from an Adam Silvera book pretty sure it was Infinity Son or Infinity Reaper)

Also I know I know some of the ships aren't everyone's favs but this is self indulgent and I promise it's good.

Updates aim to be at least once a month. I've outlined most of it.

Chapter 1: Lonely Hearts Club

Summary:

Thomas and Angelica fight.

Across the city, Alex is kicked out.

Closer than anyone expects, two gays discuss their problems over alcohol.

(Sorry it's so short)

Thomas Jefferson hated himself.

There were a few reasons for this but the main ones were that he couldn't seem to speak properly. Oh he could talk alright actually, he was famous for it. But not when it mattered. Somewhere between his head and his mouth the words you're my everything became give me some space. The consequences of both, as you can guess, are pretty different.

"You utter asshole!" That said, she didn't have to be shouting so loud. Not this late. It was nearly eleven. And it was a Friday, for fucks sake. That probably explained the mutual bad mood. Her shitty day. His boring one (arguing with his sainted brother in law at work didn't do anyone favours especially not when Saint Alexander immediately phoned Angelica to snitch).

"Oh, me, really?" She shouldn't get involved but seriously, it was Angelica, of course she was involved. Didn't mean she had to be. Somehow the argument over whatever he'd called Hamilton today turned into yet another screaming match that wasn't (mercifully) anything to do with that bastard. "You're the one who-"

Angelica waved a hand at him to quiet him down "You know what, I don't want to hear this. I really don't." She stood up and started walking towards the door.

He snorted in spite of himself, which really didn't cheer her up. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" There was a pause at the words. Because fuck, there you go she'd said it. They couldn't act like she didnt. How had they got here? Fuck if he knew. He was sure she didnt either but she hated her job and she hated her life and apparently she was frustrated enough to not care what bridges she was burning. Even if it was for Alexander Hamilton. Though if he was honest Thomas knew it was more about their marriage than the bastard orphan. But he wasn't honest. Yet another reason to hate himself.

"You love me." They were both grasping at straws now. If they kept arguing she wouldn't leave. Right? She never backed down. He winced at how arrogant he knew he sounded.

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Crap. Her voice was low. Why was her voice so low? "It's always 'you love me', never 'I love you'."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying..." Thomas held his breath. And waited for it. The killing blow. The one he'd been dreading and anticipating every argument they'd had for longer than he could think about.

What did he want? 'I'm leaving you'? Fuck no. He didnt want a divorce. But it felt like they hurtled toward the inevitable now. What else was there? They had stretched 'in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer' about as far as it would go.

He wanted to want to let go. But maybe the years with her had got to him. Maybe he wasn't as much of an ass as everyone said. Maybe he was just a stubborn prick. 

"What are you saying?" He asked.

She shook her head, stepping back when he tried to move towards her. "I don't know what I'm saying. I just want space."

"From me?"

"Yes, Thomas, from you!" At least she sounded ready for a round two. Not the sort he wanted, but now wasn't the time to think about that. It had been months a fucking year a while since they had had even a round 1.

He wasn't looking when she slammed the door. He did watch however as the car backed up off the driveway. Probably going to her sisters. He'd call later when they had both calmed down.

---

"Eliza-" he was begging and he hated it but it was fine. If he could buy time he could talk his way out of this. He always could. He was Alexander Hamilton for the love of God.

Eliza was an avenging angel as he looked up from the street to the window she leaned out of. Behind her Peggy was shouting that he wasn't worth it, come away please, don't listen to him.

He did something he hadn't really done before and waited. Alex waited for her to speak. Maybe if he did-

Coldly, Eliza Schuyler dropped a ring down to the sidewalk and said "Go fuck yourself, Alexander."

There was a cheer from Peggy (the words were probably her idea, why did she get involved, why did Eliza not listen, why hadn't he said no?)

Into the rain down the street Alex walked without feeling a thing. He would find somewhere, maybe Angelica's or something. But then he saw her car roll past, closed his eyes as she actually swerved so she could drive through a puddle and splash him. Yeah maybe not.

And that question again, why hadn't he said no? (He had thought it before, when he pleaded with himself to let Laurens stay, watched dawn light colour his friend and wanted the sun to burn him alive if it meant these thoughts would stop. 'stay?' No... No... Say no... Think of Eliza... Think of women... It wasn't he didn't love Eliza because he did, so much. And he knew he wasn't fully he wasn't because he'd loved women before but he just needed a reminder. Because if he could have her, that girl painted for pleasure, then it was as good as saying 'see?')

Maybe this time there was no shot in the dark. There was just dark.

---

Not as far away as Alex thought, John Laurens raised a glass. "To freedom." He told Maria, who with a reluctant smile clinked her vodka cranberry again his whiskey. "And no more bitchy husband."

"No more bitchy husband." She echoed hollowly. "So what now?"

"Find a cute guy? I don't fucking know, M. It's your life."

She smiled at him, genuinely smiled, for the first time in way too long. "My life."

He offered his glass for another toast. "Your life, M. All yours."

Chapter 2: Come Home With Me! (Who are you?)

Summary:

Maria moves in with John, meanwhile guess who's going downtown?

Angelica, EliiiiZAAAAA (... and Peggy:( )

(also yes the title from this chapter is from Hadestown and i have no regrets)

Notes:

CW:
References to an abusive relationship
Panic Attack/Flashback?

It was John's idea to have Maria move in. After all, he was depressingly single (his words), hopelessly in love with a straight and unattainable man (Maria's words) and had a spare bedroom (this one is just a fact).

It took her all of ten minutes to show up, all of fifteen to wonder if she'd ever need a partner if she just had this enthusiastic little soldier boy trying to help. "I think the instructions say-" She began with the air of the most patient saint.

"We don't need the instructions." He replied shortly.

"But I think that screw goes in here-"

"Maria, we do not need the instructions."

"John, I just think that-"

Laurens threw the chair leg across the room. "MARIA I AM NOT SWEDISH AND NEITHER ARE YOU LETS STOP PRETENDING THAT-"

"There's a translation."

"Oh really?" He grabbed it and tried to read it upside down. "Sweet."

It was strange to have such a friendly environment, not the screaming, the grabbing, the- Well, James. She chose to delight in it, using her full (new!) name every available opportunity. Including that night, though it was easy to assume it was Johns idea. It wasnt, it was hers.

"Are you sure you want to go out?" John asked her cautiously, hovering in the doorway while she put in new earrings for the fifth time. "I just mean its been a week."

"Exactly, Laurie." She swiped the makeup brush over his nose, leaving a pink streak down his face. "It's been a week. And I have to get back up."

"Sounds like you want to go down." He mumbled but she just laughed. 

"And if I do? What just because you've been in love with that nameless hot guy from your office? Ow, hey, quit it!" This last part was because he lunged at her with a pillow. Her chest hurt for a second but she told herself firmly this was John and he wouldnt hurt her. It was a pillow, not a fist, he was a good man, and she was scared for no reason, but halfway over the bed when she jumped he caught her ankle in his hand and the way he casually dragged her back to smack her with the pillow made her strangle a scream, because she was trying to not move when she felt him next to her because this wasnt safe and he was James and he would hurt her. And her thoughts were a runaway train, wrong way down a track with no end or begining, cant breath, dont breath, he'll stop soon- "Tell me its you."

He spoke fast, scared by the way she'd gone stiff. "Huh?"

"Who are you?"

"John. Laurens. Laurie. Your new roommate, remember?"

"Don't touch me." She should have added please but he was already up, lunging across the room. 

"Better?"

After some deep breaths, Maria rolled over and saw him stood in the far corner, hands up so she could see them, head bent. "Yes. Thank you. Love you loser. Platonically, of course."

"Yeah, I like men."

"Good for you."

"Do you?"

Interesting question. Maria sat up, smoothed her hair. "I don't know. But tonight I'm in the mood for women." She hadn't kissed a girl for a long time, not without James' disgusting encouragement permission. "I'm going out, I'll hit on someone that I want to. And if I want you must take me back here."

"I'll pretend to be your boyfriend if you want to scare guys off."

"And if you get intimidated by straight girls I'll fake being your girlfriend."

"I won't-"

"Remember last time?"

"Touche, Maria Lewis, touche."

---

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea." Peggy said for the third time at least. Angelica rolled her eyes. "Well I do."

"Dad always said-"

"Pegs, honey, you're nineteen, stop doing what our father says, please." Eliza asked nervously, brushing the hem of her dress repeatedly. "Annie, are we sure this is a dress not a shirt?"

"Yes. Stop fussing, you look great."

"Does Tom know you're here?" Peggy spat miserably as Annie batted her eyes at the guy at the door and flirted so bluntly Eliza was shocked he fell for it. Does he really think she's interested?

Angelica spun around and seized the front of Peggy's top without hesitation. "My husband doesn't need to know. And you can leave anytime, baby sister."

"Calm down." But before Peggy could start another argument Angelica rushed into the building. Eliza rested a hand on her younger sisters shoulder and shook her head. They said they were doing this for Eliza, to help her get over Alex (how do you get over your husband of only a year? They were going be each others futures. She wanted to have a kid with him, maybe two, or five... Jesus, her whole life was in his hands and he... He...). They weren't. They did it because Angelica and Thomas' latest argument was the worst yet. They had been together about seven years, way longer than the Hamiltons but they just seemed to spend all their time at each others throats. "And not," Peggy added in a conspiratory way "In a kinky way."

"Right." Said Eliza, uncomfortably. Pegs was drunk already, Angelica was degrading an undergrad in the corner (honestly, that was normal). Eliza was just brooding by herself, thinking about...

"Laurie, can't you-"

Thinking... Um...

"You can't seriously be wanting to drink all that!"

"I bought it for a reason, and it wasn't to wash my hair with."

What was Eliza thinking about? She knew it wasn't however that woman by the bar looked, the way her legs looked in that dress. The blood pounding in her ears, in... Other places... Blood, colour of her dress, clinging to her- Fuck no, wait, red like her lipstick and oh God, looking at her lips was a mistake...

The man with her, someone Eliza swore she'd seen before but couldn't place, drunk on fumes from this stuffy place she was sure, he glanced at her in surprise but said nothing. At some point he wandered off, the lights pounding, Angelica scowling at the table again while Peggy made out with somebody in the corner with hair the colour of limes or baby leaves or-

Oh fuck, how many drinks had Eliza had? More importantly how long had she had this game of taking a shot whenever that girl at the bar did?

Because now she was dead gone and brain dumb and it was enough to move over to where the girl was. She had intention, no clue what though. Once she was there all it took was a look in her eyes and fuck this was falling again, helpless, pinned in place, would she pin her in place, would she write her poems or read her other peoples, would she be mean or sweet or a liar or honest to a fault, would she be forever would she be good at it, was the beautiful shade of her skin where the lights hit it worth it when she wasn't forever or any good?

"Can I help you?" Shy smile, Christ, that smile was good.

Eliza grinned. "I'm so sorry, I think I was going to hit on you but you're so..." She gestured at the woman, who laughed. "... Yeah, no, I'm sorry, I'll just head off..."

"Stay."

They both paused where they were, Eliza's wrist in her hand, close enough they could dance. "H-Hey..." Eliza said awkwardly, finger gunning with her spare hand. Oh wow she was really drunk.

"Hey."

---

Angelica: We need to talk.

Thomas J.: no shit

Angelica: Not now I'm busy.

Thomas J.: busy how?

She typed for a while then the bubble disappeared. He was left staring at that green dot on her profile. He weirdly thought he must now know how Gatsby must have felt and now he was having visions of himself dead in a pool. Oh, and Angelica would be a cross between the main two female characters. Bitchiness of Jordan Baker, beauty of Daisy. Yeah. That was right.

He had to laugh at the irony when she texted back:

Angelica: At a party.

Thomas J.: is it in west chicken?

Angelica: Oh my God what drugs have you taken?

Thomas J.: its fine i meant west egg

Angelica: Thomas please, which bottles in the cabinet? Find them, then check and tell me, at least send a picture of the bottles if you can't make out the labels.

Thomas J.: i meant WEST EGG from gatsby IM A NERD THATS WHAT I MEANT ANGELICA

Angelica: Oh. So you're on crack :)

Thomas J.: not a smily moment is it really?

Angelica: It was a pun. It was crack... Because eggs crack and you said west Egg so...

Thomas J.: oh

Angelica: I'm sorry I just wanted to be funny out of the two of us.

Thomas J.: well dammit youre already the hot one

He left it an embarressingly long time before texting again, as she was typing for several minutes and those visions of him in a pool were her with another man, which was crazy because according to her frantic angry texts for the past week she was staying at Eliza's after Alex cheated and more to the point Angelica wouldn't cheat on him, but honestly he wasnt sure if he could say that anymore. He wasnt sure what either of them would do to win this contest of cruelty, everything being a competition, including pissing each other off. This, though, the most normal conversation they had in oh my God, months. First time he had complimented her in a while. And it felt like that first time (yes he remembered) when he called her beautiful and they both stopped because they had to acknowledge that unspoken thing between them now... He hadnt thought about that in a long time.

He had the sudden urge to call his wife beautiful.

---

They were on the floor in Angelica's room. Not like that, not doing anything, just studying. Again. For a subject he wasn't taking but we'll get into that soon. And her head was bent while she frowned at a page of equations, hand moving furiously. And his eyes were glued to how her hair fell and her mouth parted and her nose turned up and... And...

"What's wrong?" He couldn't tell if she was demanding it. She always spoke like that. He liked it. "Why are you looking at me?"

He smirked. "You don't want me to, darlin'?"

"Shut up." Her nose wrinkled the way it always did when he called her darling. Oh, and Thomas liked how he now could say 'always' in a sentence with her in it. He was hopeless. Madison would have a feild day when he told him, and he probably would.

"Admit you like that."

"I would rather die." She told him with dignity. There was a brief moment where he thought she would go back to her work but she didn't, she stopped and set her pen down, looking back at him for what weirdly felt like the first time, which was obviously not true but that's how it felt. "Why, though?"

"Huh?"

"Why were you looking at me?"

"You look beautiful, beautiful."

---

Angelica: Wow. Smooth.

Thomas J.: glad you think so

Angelica: Sorry I took so long to reply to that by the way.

Thomas J.: its fine

Angelica: No it isn't, and I know it pissed you off. We need to talk about us. And stop doing this weird competition thing.

Thomas J.: come home then

Angelica: Give me an hour, I should get Peggy and Eliza home. Wait never mind Eliza's hooking up with a hot lady at hers, they're getting a cab back to hers.

Thomas sighed with relief. She was coming home. They could fix themselves. Look, he wasn't dumb. He'd admit he hated himself in the same sentence that he loved Angelica, it was just that love had grown poisonous ink-coloured, tainted when before all their memories were dancing in the snow and making out in the dark, whispering about weird facts and texting nonstop. Now there were fights, there was problems, and they hadn't fixed the cracks when thy sprang up so now what?

Thomas loved her but it was hurting, and he couldn't tell if that was normal or if they were doomed, if they were wrong together, if opposites would attract better than two people so similar.

He paused.

Thomas J.: wait eliza is doing what now

Angelica: A hot lady.

Thomas J.: how hot

Angelica: Should you be asking your wife that?

Thomas J.: well i already know its lower than you ;)

Angelica: Correct answer. Also, I'd say she's a nine, nine point five.

Thomas J.: my god
Thomas J.: good for eliza

Angelica: Exactly. I'll be home in maybe an hour, maybe half that if I can extract Peggy from the dance floor quickly. See you soon.

Well, 'see you soon' wasn't 'I love you' but it was a start. He wondered if he over did the joke asking about Eliza's hook up but Angelica seemed fine with it.

Thomas smiled at his phone like a teenager texting his crush. It was sad but hey, in either scenario he was considering if he was going to get laid tonight. And his chances in this case were far more likely.

Chapter 3: Shot Through The Heart

Summary:

Eliza: is it gay to have a hot amazing woman in your bed as sort of revenge on your husband who you might have kicked out who is now home and you want to tell the hot woman to get out but oh god what if she thinks you didnt have a good time or like her and do i like her and ami i gay?
Eliza: Wait this isnt google

sort of CW for mentioned smut

Eliza felt she should have had hesitation. She should have at east thought this was wrong for a second. She hadnt ever really liked women but she hadnt ever not liked them, so she had never outwardly called herself straight. That wasnt the problem.

Her and Alex bought this bed five years ago.

They'd bought the house 3 years ago.

And now he was gone.

And his place was taken up by blood red lips, Eliza could feel the lipstick smudge on her neck. It was filled to bursting with fire and heat and God, this felt like heaven.

She had introduced herself with 'Eliza', which she awkwardly added 'short for Elizabeth' just because if she kept talking Maria would keep looking at her. And Maria gave her an almost shy grin and said "I'm Maria. And if you don't mind, I'll call you Elizabeth." How her voice grated when instead of talking loud over the music, she leant closer and said "Such a pretty name, wouldn't want to lose a moment of it."

Eliza had tucked Maria's hair behind her ear and grinned.

They had danced first. The song was something by FLETCHER, Eliza didn't know it but Maria was screaming along excitedly, dragging her to the middle of the dance floor. "Hey, back off, perv." Maria had hissed when some guy wrapped an arm around her waist. He shrugged and went for Eliza with a leer. Maria snatched her hand, pulling her flush against her. "And this one's mine."

He backed away with a curse.

Eliza had never been fought over, not like this really.

After the song ended something else faster came on. Maria's fingers pulled on Eliza's hips, until the two were pressed together and the song was in Eliza's blood with the lights and the glitter on Maria's cheek. "You like this song?"

Eliza's reply was to kiss her cheek and grind back. "I like this."

"And is there anything else you'd like?" Maria's voice was snaking from among Eliza's hair, where her face was pressed tenderly, too tender for this night, really. "I'm at your service, Elizabeth."

"Oh, I only want to please you."

Maria hadn't been told that before. "Well, in that case, let's get you home, lover. We'll see about the rest."

"I'll get the bill." When the other protested Eliza pulled away and grabbed her wrist. "I'm paying. Please."

Maria took a deep breath. "Alright."

---

Alexander wasn't sleeping that great in the hotel. Every moment was a reminder of everyone he'd hurt.

Eliza. Sweet Eliza. Kind, beautiful Eliza. Who he loved. So much.

But the daydreams weren't blue dresses, soft words, braided black hair anymore. They didn't even feature. No, instead it was stardust freckles and hair like caramel and God, those eyes...

The phone glared at him from across the bed.

(Who would even phone him? Who could it be? He didn't know which call had been worse: Washingtons quiet disapproval while he told him "Take some time off.", Jeffersons clipped "I was just looking for Angelica, seen her?" without a pause to mock or insult him, or even the call from Lafayette offering him a place to stay the night, before calling back recounting the offer)

Alex tried to calm himself down but fuck it, this was nearly impossible. The phone was right there. Why couldn't he pick it up, dial, call? But who would he call? Who would answer? Who did he want to talk to? Because "Call him" and "Call her" sounded the same and he had never hated himself more than this.

Alex wondered if Eliza missed him.

(Kissing in the park, old school dates, love letters, heart shaped chocolate, God, he missed her)

Alex wondered if he missed him.

(Too long stares, flirting, "If you were a woman..." and "You love me" and "Beautiful", whatever else they had said, and God he was so pretty it just hurt)

He thought for another moment then picked up the phone and hurled it against a wall. The cracked screen leered up at him. Ultimately, he went to sleep with an old movie blaring in the background.

---

Eliza wanted to hate herself.

No, really, she did.

Her and Alexander were still married technically. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

"You like this?" Maria asked as she pressed Eliza to the back of the door, her hands everywhere, tracing shapes on her waist and hiking up her top. "You like me being in charge?"

"God, yes," Eliza was torn: How desperate was too desperate? Would it drive her away? "Please."

"You're sure?" For a second it felt overwhelmingly serious, as if Maria was scared of something. "You want this?"

"I want you."

I want you.

The lips on hers were red painted, left marks everywhere, left them on Eliza's thighs and the inside of her wrists and her abdomen, all over her neck and along her jaw.

I want you.

Their hearts beat at the same time. Everything clung to everything else. Somehow Maria managed to be so gentle, like Eliza was precious and fragile and beautiful...

I want you.

She wanted her. She wanted heat and lipstick and the shy smile when they were done, interlaced legs and fingers under the covers. Collapsing into a sleep. She wanted her so badly it hurt.

The moonlight fell through the window, the slant of silver along Maria's cheek and over her closed eyes, which fluttered. She was smiling in her sleep.

Last time she fell hard for someone she was excited at it. The helplessness.

Now?

She was terrified.

Chapter 4: R U Mine?

Summary:

More a part 2 for the last chapter

Notes:

if you're here for lams it will be soon, I swear. Meanwhile Thomgelica will be next up, I haven't forgotten them either. Thanks for reading X

When they first moved into the house, Alex had taken great delight in shouting "Honey I'm home!" when he came in.

Now he was silent.

Somewhere above there was creaking, whispering, a quiet laugh. Then, the unmistakable sound of Eliza talking "-I think that maybe if we-"

"Eliza?" He covered his mouth as soon as he said it; Hearing her voice was painful.

There was a clatter. Then-

"Fuck."

He frowned. Eliza didn't swear, she was an angel. She never swore. Ever.

But now she did. Alex thought for a moment then made up his mind. He turned around and walked back out the door.

---

Eliza woke up to a woman. A beautiful, horrible, perfect, devil of a woman. One with smudged makeup and a sleepy smile, rumpled hair and warm skin Eliza was keeping herself away from, as far back as she could without falling out of the bed. She had a list of questions in her head, one she was adding to because ever since she was old enough to be able to write legibly she had started to-do lists to keep in order.

Get her out.

Wake her up.

Let her sleep, that was a long night.

That was a difficult night.

That was the best night.

It wasn't worse than Alex.

It was necessarily better than him.

It was brilliant in a different way.

I want to kiss her.

Don't think that.

Kiss her.

I don't want to love her, but I want her to love me. I want to do her no good.

I want her to do me nothing good, nothing helpful.

I want to be pinned helpless, I want to be happy to serve.

I want her to be cruel as she wants.

I want her to be kind to me.

I want her so much.

Kiss her.

Whatever you do, you want her here.

You need to talk about this.

Wake her up.

Get her out.

"Can I help you?" A low voice asked. Eliza was so surprised she squeaked and nearly fell off the bed. Maria laughed. "You've been looking at me for a while."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't sound so guilty."

"Okay."

Maria laughed again and reached out a hand, ruffled Eliza's hair. "So obedient. And relax, you look like a deer in the headlights."

"I've never been with a woman before."

She paused, confused by that. "Well, for a beginner you're exceptional but I feel you may need more practice."

"You think? OH." Eliza's turn to laugh. "I don't know why I didn't understand that straight away."

"Straight?"

"Sh... Anyway can I ask you something?"

Maria made her eyes wide, darkened her voice the way she'd spoken last night. "Anything, lover." She cackled, then covered her mouth. "Sorry, God."

"I like your laugh." Eliza said it as she decided it. "If... If I say something will you be mad?"

"No? Why?"

"Because you have to know it's not that I don't like you. I really do."

"But?" Bitterness laced in her tone now. It stung.

Eliza moved closer. "It's just I'm technically married..."

"Technically?"

"I'm not sure."

"I'm divorced."

"Oh."

"Very recently. And so if you need a good lawyer..." She trailed off. Eliza pretended Maria didn't look hopeful.

"I think you ought to leave."

"You're going to kick me out?"

"No!"

Maria smiled softly. "Lover, relax yourself, please. It's fine. I can leave."

Outside, the sunrise was painting lights all over the sheets. It couldn't be as pretty as the way Maria's hair fell, as the knowledge of how her skin felt on Eliza's lips. "I don't want you to but if you get found here by my sort-of husband or, you know, my sisters-"

"Gotcha. I can head out the back door."

"You're sure?"

"I'm used to it."

That really did sting. Jesus. "Maria, I don't do this."

"Yeah, I know. You're not into women or something, this was an experiment."

"No! I do, I just..."

"You don't like me?"

"No."

"Then what, what is it, Elizabeth? Because I'm getting increasingly worried about being here, you're acting like I'll be skinned alive, and if you don't want me, I don't want you."

"I want you." She sounded so small.

"Then that explains why I want you." She said, like Eliza had cursed her. She laughed. "I want this again. I want... I want you again, I mean we could get food and maybe watch a movie or something, whatever you'd like, Maria."

"Whatever I'd like?" As she'd never considered that before. "What if I want to get down on one knee and propose? What if I'm pregnant? What if you knocked me up, huh?"

Eliza burst out laughing. "Oh gosh, I just think that maybe if we-"

"Eliza?!"

She knew his voice like she knew the colour of her eyes, the colour of his as well as she knew the skin on her hands as she wrung them over and over last time she'd seen his face and she was breathing too fast and this wasn't what she meant by helpless and-

"Fuck!" She yelled, startling Maria.

The door downstairs slammed.

Both women stared at each other. "Can you..."

"Want me to leave?"

"I'm sorry really, I need to sort out-"

"I'll be back okay? I'll leave you my number somewhere."

"Thank you. Thank you, so much, thank you." Eliza sounded like she was thanking her for a lot more than a number, but for leaving and for being kind and for even showing up and the lover and the I want you's that would never end.

3017681828
Next time I'll stay, I promise.
~Maria Lewis, xoxo

The note was pinned to the fridge. Alexander wasn't there when she went downstairs.

Eliza screamed until her throat hurt while she disintegrated the note in the sink.

Chapter 5: Flashbacks

Summary:

Angelica and Thomas ought to talk...

Angelica had never, not even once in her life, held her tongue.

It wasn't in her nature. From a young age she'd ask every question she wanted to have answered, and why not? Better to say it than think it silently. Thomas used to say he liked it, thought it was admirable. Only now was she remembering he hadn't called it admirable, he had actually called it interesting. That wasn't necessarily good or bad. She didn't know what to make of it.

And yet here she was, sat in her car, freezing half to death when it was December and almost Christmas and she was not with family or friends but alone, trying to think how to use the word 'divorce' in a sentence with her husband that wouldn't start another argument. It wasn't that she wanted a divorce. If she thought about it, she didn't know why not. After all, Angelica was logical. And logically neither of them were able to get along well any more. So they really should divorce. It's the advice she'd been spoonfeeding Eliza, who was hellbent on forgiveness or had been for a few days at least. She loved Alex with all her heart, bless her. Angelica made no comment to that.

But there was some block on the idea, something that worked actively against it. Something that made her scream internally no, refusing to surrender, that I would rather die. I would rather die than just give that up. Giving up had never angered her to such an extent before, nor did she know where this feral, furious internal voice came from but she did know she didn't want to leave Thomas.

She... Well she... Okay, she didn't know anymore, but that wasn't the point.

---

She hadn't knocked on the door that day back in university, she'd nearly kicked it down. "Open the damn door, Jefferson."

"No need to be bitchy, I'm here." He had said as he opened the door. Angelica stomped inside. "It's cold out there."

"And yet you seem so-"

"Call me hot and I will kill you."

"Not as creative an insult as normal. Are you going soft on me?" He smirked as she sat down. "Come on. What's wrong? I promise not to piss you off while you tell me."

"That's a lie. But fine, if you must know, I argued with my sister. It was over a boy and it was pathetic. Are you happy now?"

"Nope. Hey, come on cheer up." She didn't move away when he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. She didn't move when he cautiously put an arm around her. "Hey, I said cheer up, darlin'. Come on now, you're gonna act like this because you and your sister had an argument about a boy? That's not in character. And I like your character."

She laughed. "Top ten things to maybe not say to a girl."

"You love my loser ass."

"I have no opinions regarding your ass." She said with a smirk. "Unlike you I don't ogle people."

"I have never ogled you in my life." He said quickly.

She actually laughed. He seemed to relax at the sound. "I never said me, perv."

"You don't sound like you mind."

Angelica looked him dead in the eye. He seemed to be trying to choose between being turned on or scared. "Maybe I don't."

---

"Open the damn door, Jefferson." She said, kicking it weakly.

He opened it. "Uh, hey."

"Hey." They both stared for a minute. She sighed. "Can I come in?"

"Do what you want..." Him not caring hurt more than if he had.

She followed him through, both trailing into the kitchen together. He didn't ask before turning the kettle on. And she watched it light up and start boiling, waiting for him to start. Eventually Thomas cleared his throat. She looked up but he didn't say anything. Angelica sighed. "We can't keep doing this."

"I agree."

"It's ridiculous. Either we love each other or we don't! Why are we... Why are we fighting so much?"

"Stress?" He suggested. "Work's got stressful recently. And we don't spend much time together."

"I don't think hanging out more will make things better."

"Annie, babe... We used to spend all day together. I used to call off work..." He rubbed the countertop absently, and she knew it was because he too was thinking about those lazy mornings, walking around in his shirt and sat on the counter while he made her tea. Sleepy kisses. Quiet words. God, they were so good.

"I know." She laid a hand on his arm. Thomas stared at it like he couldn't believe she was touching him. "I know."

"Well, do you miss it?"

She almost yelled at him for even asking. As it was she just said "Obviously."

He gave a twisted sort of smirk. "I miss you too, beautiful."

"Been a while since you called me that." She pulled herself onto the counter.

"Oh, but you look pretty good tonight."

That was bullshit and she knew it. She always tried to keep tidy and had a lot of pride in her appearance but she was only wearing her old Princeton t-shirt and joggers. She was pretty sure she hadn't even brushed her hair properly. Compared to him, who was still wearing his suit from work, tie undone around his neck, she wasn't sure she could be considered good looking. And she was focusing really hard on the kettle as it stopped boiling because if she kept looking at him she was going to either start shouting or kiss him. Actually, how long had she not kissed him for? It had been forever. It had been only yesterday.

She couldn't remember at all.

"You look very pretty too, Thomas." She said softly.

"Aw, thank you." He batted his eyes dramatically. "You think?"

"We're getting off topic."

He got closer to her. "Uh huh."

"Look, I just- Well I think- I just-"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but can you just stop doing that?"

"Huh?"

"Thomas, remove your hand from my thigh."

He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he removed it. "I'm sorry, I got distracted."

Angelica saw his point. It felt like this was the first time in a while they'd even looked at each other properly. "We need to fix us."

"Yeah." It was strange to have him agree with her. The past year had been a lot of fighting. And it was probably because as he said, work, stress etc. Didn't help. "How about therapy?"

"What?"

"Therapy. Like, couples therapy."

"I'll look into it." She was already googling it, head bent over the screen, picking at her lip as she thought deeply. "Oh my fucking God."

"What?" Thomas craned his neck to look at the phone.

"It's so expensive!"

"Oh we can afford that."

"I'm not paying that money for us to fix our marriage."

"What do you want to do then?"

"Give me a second..." Still deep in thought. Thomas would rather she stopped drawing attention to her lips. It was making this so much more difficult. "Okay, got it."

"At the risk or repeating myself, what?"

"There's a list of questions they tend to ask in counselling sessions. We can just therapy ourselves."

"I don't think that's grammatically correct."

"Shut up."

"Make me." She paused, glanced up at him. "Please tell me you aren't flirting with me?"

"I'm your husband, it's allowed."

"We're going to council ourselves and when we rescue whatever we have together we are going to only thank ourselves. We don't need anyone to save us. We can do it together."

"What a motivational speech."

"Thomas?"

"Yes, beautiful?"

"I love you. But shut up."

"Okay."

Notes:

IM SORRY IT HAS BEEN SO SO LONG BUT HERE I WILL UPDATE MORE!!!

Chapter 6: Pretty Boy

Summary:

Long awaited Lams (wonder if its casual?)

TW for internalised homophobia

Alex wasn't hiding anymore.

Well yes, he was at the hotel still and not actually living at home and his work was his life now but still. It was better than rotting slowly.

Every day, in work, out again, working from the free Wi-Fi until the lights hurt his eyes and he got the phone call from the lobby telling him his taxi was here and would he please stop coming back so late because he scared the maid half to death?

But this weekend would be different- Work conference. A new hotel, some other town. He was proud of the extent to which he cleaned himself up. It was almost a full transformation. He would be unrecognisable. He hoped so anyway.

He turned to the door when someone knocked. "Hello?"

"Alexander?"

Shit.

Only 4 people had ever called him that with any regularity. One was Angelica, the first time he introduced himself. Once he began dating Eliza she switched rigidly the Hamilton, at least mostly.

Eliza called him that with that loving look she always used. He never felt so high as when he spoke to her but God, the thought of it made him sick now. It was juxtaposed with the horror as he told her about...

Maria. She had called him Alexander. He could still hear it. Hello, sugar.

Hi, again, Alexander.

Hey, baby...

Stay?

It made his skin crawl. But at the time, it was so sweet. How desperate she seemed, never mind her longing always wandered, seemed so detached. So vague. He just wanted to be wanted. He wanted to want.

Not that he didn't want Eliza. But he wanted to want the way he always had done, and not want...

This brought him onto the only other option.

"Laurens?" He asked cautiously. His stomach was in knots.

A light laugh. "Yessir. Mind if I come in?"

In. In his room. In his life. Alex was stood in his hovel of a room and John Laurens, beautiful John Laurens, wanted to come in.

---

It had been months ago, nearly a full year, since fresh-faced and straight out of South Carolina the law graduate came to Alexander's office. An overflowing box in his hand. A smile on his lips. "I'm John." He reached a hand out. His accent made the words blur, become a little more casual.

"Alexander."

"Nice to meet you." He pointed at Alex's shoes when his hand dropped. "Nice boots."

Alex blushed. "You think?"

"Yeah. Sure do." With that he was gone.

And Alex was left alone in the middle of the office. Wondering what that dropping feeling was in his chest, and why he thought he could hear his own heartbeat.

---

"Hey, Laurens."

"Alexander." John eyed him nervously. "So what's with the set up?"

"Wife kicked me out." He should have said. He didn't though. Instead- "Oh, you know me, I never like to be predictable."

"Oh you are far from predictable, my darlin'." John laughed. Alex actually wondered if that would kill him.

"Good to know you think so." His voice was hoarse. Could anyone tell? "Like the shoes?"

John smirked. "Yeah, yeah I do. Very pretty."

"I am, aren't I?"

"For sure..."

When had they got so close?

Why was there no air?

And why wasn't Alex scared of himself anymore?

In the moment it would feel right...

And then would come the loathing. And the fear.

And he would rather die than do that.

So he sidestepped and left the room. Leaving a confused Laurens to trail behind.

Notes:

>-COMMENT-<

Chapter 7: Call Me Back

Summary:

All 3 ships facing similar problems right now...

If only they talked more... Which they will.

sorta.

"Hey, hi, um, Thomas, this is Angelica." She groaned at the way her voice had gone high pitched. "Uh I just wanted you to know that um... I will um... Well we should start that therapy thing soon. I've done a lot of... Of research and I'm fairly confident in our ability to... You know... Yeah. Um. Bye."

Hanging up, Angelica sighed and threw her phone into the back seat. She didn't really want to be doing this. But her and Thomas had moved from the 'I want you dead but we aren't speaking' stage to the 'I want you but we still aren't speaking' stage. This didn't make things that much easy. It was less aggressive but still.

Angelica didn't even know what to talk to him about anymore. Once it was a lot easier and then... It just got...

Complicated?

The phone rang. "Hey."

"Come home." She said instantly. "I mean, I'll be there soon. We ought to get started on the therapy. And... I'll order a takeaway. And it will be like a date."

He laughed. "A therapy date?"

"Perfect for a fucked up couple."

"We aren't so bad."

"Thomas..."

"Alright, okay, fine. Fine." He didn't say 'whatever you want' but it was nearly said. Close enough. She started the car with a stupid grin.

---

"Thomas?"

"M'lady?"

She didn't react to the nickname. Among all the ones he had for her it wasn't the worst. "What are you doing?"

"Uh..." He frowned "Reading?"

"Reading what?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because you actually look happy for once and it's because you're reading so I'm curious."

"I happen to like reading." He said it without thinking, before darkening slightly. Angelica wondered if anyone had ever cared about what he liked. She also wondered if he had admitted he liked reading. After all, it wasn't a very... Thomas-y hobby.

"What is it though?" He held up the book, so she could read the cover. "It's good." He added.

"Explain it to me." 

"What?"

"When I read a book, I get obsessed. And I want to explain it in excruciating detail for everyone around me. But I never can. So, tell me all about it." That was the closest to romantic or even really nice to him. Thomas blinked unsure actually how to react. Eventually he started talking. "So... It's about rabbits. Right? Not normal rabbits but special ones, and then one of them -Fiver- he has a prophecy..."

Angelica didn't dare breathe while he explained the plot of the book to her, gesturing wildly, his Southern accent getting stronger slowly and his smile brighter. It wasn't flirty like normal. For once, he didn't just seem like he wanted to hook up. He seemed like he enjoyed her company. Almost as much as she liked his. She wouldn't let on, or tried not to, but some point over the past few weeks the sensation of being wanted had turned into a wanting of her own. And since she wasn't stupid enough to deny herself obvious pleasures she simply admitted it and moved on.

After all, it was no more than brief infatuation, a crush. It would burn out. Not like she'd marry the man.

---

"Pick up, pick up, come on you Southern bitch pick up the phone, please." Alex stared at his phone like it would blow up if he glanced away. "Laurens, please pick up the phone."

It rang on without a care about his begging.

"If you don't pick up..."

The threat wasn't finished.

"Please, I'll do anything!"

No answer still, in more ways than one.

"John, please."

The ringing went on and on, somehow inside his damn head, he wanted to scream and rip it out.

Wanted to tear his hair out.

Wanted to just curl up and die.

The ringing stopped, but only because the person on the other end of the line cut it off.

---

Earlier, John had ran to catch up after the last meeting. "So, you got the notes?"

Alex was looking at the floor. He had been doing so all day and was enjoying it thoroughly, so much more than just looking at Laurens. It was a lot easier and didn't hurt anyone. He'd seen the carpets and the scratched floor in the boardroom and the grass as they all smoked outside.

"What, sorry?"

"D'you have the notes? I didn't take any." Laurens repeated.

Alex hadn't taken notes either. Too busy. Too much floor to stare at.

"Uh, no."

"You didn't take any? You mean you weren't writing? Shocking."

"I did."

"Wait what?"

"I did, you can't have them though." Alex paused, unsure what he was even saying "It- It would only encourage you to be lazy and not take them yourself."

"Oh... Kay." Laurens was probably looking at him funny now. Alex didn't check. Just turned tail and walked to his room. You know. Like a coward.

---

Maria picked up the phone. "John? Hey! No I'm free, of course, go on. No, go ahead."

"Alright... Wait, are you okay?"

"Shitty few days. You?"

"Same here." She heard him rustling around, presumably settling in a good place to hear drama. Less fun when it was her heart getting shattered but oh well. "You go first."

"Well, I met the woman of my dreams."

"You did? Amazing, and implausible."

"Spell 'implausible'."

"Fuck you."

"You like men."

"Don't remind me. Anyway, keep talking. Woman of your dreams?"

"Yep. Beautiful, hot, kind, sweet, smart... And oh yeah, what's the last one?"

"Imaginary?"

"Forgetful. She hasn't called back."

"You gave her your number?"

"Yes. As I left."

"Left?"

"Left hers." He knew that part, not the rest "And that was a few days ago."

"DAYS?!"

Cringing, Maria held the phone away from her ear. "Yeah, yeah..."

"MARIA?!"

"Yeah, I know, doll..." She'd picked the expression up from him and couldn't stop saying it "Can you tell me what's with you now?"

"Alex, he... He's ignoring me." John didn't like talking about his crush on the 'boy from work'. All he would say was he was genius, sweet but reserved around John.

"Ohhh, his name is Alex? I knew an Alex." She thought nothing of it. "Wait, what?"

"And I asked him for notes, and he called me lazy and stormed off and... and well... I don't know."

"Well, kick his ass." She said casually.

John, a weirdly peace loving guy for someone who served in the army for a few years, seemed appalled. "No! I can't do that."

"Alright, fine, don't take my advice."

He sighed, well used to her by now. "Well, if you want to deal with your dream girl, you know what you ought to do?"

"What?"

"Go get her fucking number."

Chapter 8: I'm Not Mad

Summary:

Thomgelica therapy time

What more do you people want?

Also are y'all actually readin this?/gq

Therapy was always done in an uncomfortable looking office when Angelica saw it on TV.

For them, therapy was done sat on the bed (they hadn't shared it for about two months but oh well) in their pyjamas. For them it had a surprising amount of snacks, messy hair, but the same awkward silence before they spoke as Thomas took up the entire side of the bed with the headboard, and Angelica rested at the bottom. It was hard to believe recently that things were so terrible as they had been but God, she hadn't forgotten.

---

"You're not listening!" She slammed the door as they walked in.

He gave as good as he got, he always did. "You're saying I've lost my mind. I heard that completely fine."

"Okay I'm sorry but you spent how much on what?" He didn't answer straight away. Angelica pointed to the new couch in the corner. "We don't need that, Thomas!"

"My bad, I guess I thought you wanted to be comfortable." Yeah, wounded martyr angle, because that always worked in arguments. Didn't have a history of pissing her off at all.

Her voice rose, of course. "Yeah I do! But we don't need a couch that's three and a half grand for that. Do we?"

"It's my money. I can spend it how I want." This yelling was the closest they had stood in months. So close that if you turned the volume down, they might be about to kiss. What a stupid thought that was.

"It's our money because you used our shared account to buy furniture for our house. We don't need a new-"

Thomas took another step closer, right in front of her now, and she backed up into the wall. "I do one nice thing and you lose your mind over it." He snapped.

"You do one stupid thing and I become the bad guy just because I have common sense." Angelica corrected him icily.

"Which pointless book you get that one out of, huh, angel?" Her eyes widened but he didn't stop, he couldn't, he already said it as soon as it had popped in his head. He regretted it before he had a chance to open his mouth but too late. "Was it the same one that convinced you you're doing ok even though you don't seem to be living up to that star potential you insisted you had when we met."

The words filled the space between them because they certainly wouldn't.

"You... You bastard, Thomas. You utter bastard." She didn't sound angry. He wouldn't mind if she had but she didn't. She just sounded sad. No, worse. She sounded hurt.

"Angel, listen..." But he didn't know where he was going with that. She pressed her hand to his chest, pushed him away. He knew he hadn't imagined the tears in her eyes either.

If it had been years prior he would have gone after her. Probably begged for forgiveness. But what did he do instead? After all, he'd seen in her eyes the stubbornness he'd loved for so long. He knew these arguments which, at this stage, were fewer and farther between, were a game. They must be. A game she wanted win.

A game he couldn't let her win. If he did what did it make him but a loser asshole? And Angelica didn't need a loser. No. No, he'd win her over. Maybe arguing wasn't the answer to all their problems but simply backing down wasn't either. He'd show her they were alike. That he could fight back too.

---

"So."

"So." He echoed.

Angelica pulled out her phone. "First question. Ready?"

"Born ready." He rubbed his hands together. "Let's do it."

"Do we want to stay together?"

The question seemed to rise in the air, hover.

Then Thomas started talking. "That's a dumb question. Why would we be doing this if we didn't?"

"Thomas..."

"And I can't believe you'd ask that! You think I don't want to stay with you, is that it?"

"Thomas."

"You don't even want to, I bet that's it, that-"

"The question wasn't 'are we going to try to stay together' or anything." Angelica finally interrupted. "It's 'do we want to'. And if you really wanted to the answer would be an immediate yes and not an argument."

"I just-"

Her voice was low and even, surprisingly. No offence but she was typically the first to lose her cool in a fight. "Do you want to be with me, Thomas?"

"Of course I do!" He was scandalised she'd suggest otherwise.

(Wasn't it obvious? He'd spent this entire time with her hadn't he? He'd stuck by her, even when they fought, he loved her, he thought about her all the time, he couldn't see himself with anyone else, he loved her, he was as obsessed as he used to be, he-)

"Then act like it!" This was going to turn into an actual fight in a minute but at least Angelica looked a little mollified at his response.

"What about you?" Thomas asked.

Angelica pulled a face. "What?"

"Do you want to be with me?"

There was a pause, followed by the squeaking of the bed as she got up. "What sort of idiotic question was that?"

"That's what I said too!"

She frowned. "I see why it seems weird now."

"Exactly." He said, smirking. "Where are you even getting these questions from?"

"A reputable source." She replied guardedly as she messed with her hair.

"Therapy for dummies?"

Angelica planted her hands on her hips and looked at him across the room from where she'd drifted to the mirror. Still a challenge but a joking one. Almost a flirty one. "You calling me a dummy, Jefferson?"

He'd missed her.

---

"I swear to God, Jefferson, do you ever pay attention?" She snapped, mopping up the spilt coffee with a tissue. It was too late, her papers would be ruined.

"I'm paying plenty of attention to you." He tried to find another tissue in his bag. Privately, he really did feel bad. Publicly, he was obligated to keep up teasing her. What else was there to do? She had to fall for him somehow (he wasn't sure how much of a joke that was)

She went on muttering under her breath, limiting the worst of the damage and fixing a few smudged words with her pen. Eventually, though, Thomas asked "Why'd you call me that?"

"What?"

"My name's Thomas, darlin'. Why can't you use it?"

Excellent question. Now he thought about it, she'd never used his first name if she could help it. It was always Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson.

And as for Angelica, she figured he didn't need to know in her head he was called Thomas and that Thomas was the name she seemed to hear in her dreams more than she wanted to. It wasn't his business if Thomas in her head took her seriously, didn't spend all his time messing with her the way he did every other girl. He was kinder in her head, treated her better in her head, wasn't acting like she was something he could use and leave, because he would. Thomas Jefferson was no good. He was going to joke and flirt until she agreed to do what he wanted and then he would abandon her because that's who he was.

And she wasn't planning on letting that happen. Not any time soon.

Calling him Jefferson held him at an arms length away from herself. Calling him Jefferson kept her safe.

But that didn't mean she couldn't have fun at his expense every now and then. So she gave him her best smile and said "I like you're last name, that's why. In fact, maybe I want it. Mine."

It was supposed to shut him up. And it did, a second or two anyway, long enough that he was clearly dumbstruck. Until he laughed. "Go ahead. I'm all yours and you know it, darlin'."

---

"You don't call me that anymore." He said.

"Yeah, that's because I'm also Jefferson. I told you I would have your name."

"I want to be with you." He said it so much more confidently than before. She grinned and sat back down on the bed.

"Well I want to be with you."

"Well then, guess we have a deal."

"Yeah, guess we do." Why was he looking at her like that? Oh right.

Right.

"You'll stay?" She asked quietly. He was moving closer, one hand covering hers. She didn't say anything else until he was right next to her, both sat on the edge of the bed, kissing the top of her head softly. "You will stay, though?"

"Long as you want."

"What about you?"

He blinked. "I want to stay." He was surprised by it. Spent so long resentful, frustrated, annoyed, he assumed he didn't want her. Never questioned it long enough to find out.

The idea of being without her was wrong. Whether it was because of love or simple familiarity, he didn't know. But he knew he had a woman -a beautiful woman, his beautiful woman- in his arms and his bed right now. This wasn't the time to worry about that.

So he lowered his head to kiss her jaw where it met her throat. "I want you."

"I've missed you." She said.

This time, his lips met hers.

This time, neither said a thing.

Notes:

Comment ❤️

Chapter 9: Know My Worth

Summary:

Maria has a few things to say to Eliza.

Maria probably should have brought a coat.

It was pissing it down with rain, freezing cold, and she assumed she'd be fine since she took a taxi but the driver booted her out a five minute walk from Eliza's house so she had to march through the pouring rain. Her hair was sticking to the back of her neck.

This was such a bad idea.

This was the worst idea humanly possible.

This could not possibly-

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Maria jerked her hand from the door, as if scalded. What the fuck had she just done.

Knock, knock, knock!

She did it again, still horrified by herself.

"Coming! One second!"

Oh, fuck me. Wait no, that is the last thing I need. Be strong, Mari. You got this.

Be strong.

Yeah right.

Maria hid her hands behind her back like they'd betray her in some way.

The door opened to a weirdly domestic scene. Eliza in a blue and white apron. Her spare hand held a baking tray. Her hair was greying with flour. The lights were all amber, soft, warm. It was so fucking lovely it made her want to scream, or cry, because none of it belonged to her. She was the outsider, again, the tramp in the rain. The fucking doorstep girl. Whore. Homewrecker.

"Hello." She said, dumbly.

Eliza had no right, no right at all, to look like that, because Maria had no understanding of how other people really worked -men found red sexy, and long hair, and whispering, and all that shit she'd perfected for James to use- she didn't find that attractive.

She knew it was how she looked but it wasn't like she was going to be attracted to herself. Maria wasn't actually sure what she liked until now, and that was flour in hair and old sweatshirts and fluffy slippers and left over smiles and wide eyes and a woman who literally felt like home.

"Hi." Replied Eliza, barely audible. That smile she'd greeted the door with was fading rapidly.

Maria felt like she was shrinking somehow. Feet in concrete. Hands clamped behind her back. "Can I come in?"

No words, but Eliza stepped aside. So this was how she wanted to play it.

The second she crossed the threshold Maria turned back around. "How dare you?"

Okay, this was certainly a way to get her attention. Out of all the ways, it wasn't... the worst. Eliza seemed genuinely shocked. She took a reflexive step back into the door as it closed, blinking, stunned into silence. Or maybe she remained that way because she had nothing to say.

Maria was not done speaking. "How actually fucking dare you? I've been through shitty things, things you do not even know about, I've been used and hurt and beaten badly, and still this manages to cut under all the scar tissue and hurt me." Her voice broke and she went on talking. Eliza pressed herself against the door as if trying to sink through it. "You showed up in my life," God, now she sounded just sad. Actually, on reflection, she was " and you were sweet and drunk, and you danced with me and oh my God, you were so beautiful I wanted to die and I can't explain why. And I went to yours, we were so happy, I was so happy, we wandered in your room, we kissed, we- we did everything else we could think of because I couldn't stand it if I didn't, I needed you like you filled some gaping crack in my bones or some shit, and then we wake up, you tell me to go, you never called me back-"

Too much too much, she had to stop, it was too soon, they barely knew each other. Why would she care? But she'd said it and she couldn't take it back, so if Eliza wouldn't care about her feelings to some extent neither would Maria.

"Maria-"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME I AM NOT DONE SPEAKING!" Dead silence. Stagnant air. Not even the desire to speak moved between them, no, it was all hollow space. "Eliza, I really really liked you. And you don't have to feel that way but I am not something to be thrown away. I deserve to be told no in the first place."

She mumbled something.

Maybe Maria sounded too annoyed when she said "Speak up!"

Eliza snapped back "I said I wasn't telling you no, I was just scared! I've never been with anyone but A- my husband. Ex. My ex husband. I... I don't know what I want, and I was pretty sure you were part of it but how can I drag you into my identity crisis?"

"You don't make the choice on what I can handle!"

"No, but I decide what I can deal with at once! I couldn't cope with a new relationship, with a woman of all things, and try to fix up my life, and get a divorce, and avoid rumours at work, and calm my family down, all at one bloody time. I only have two hands, Maria." She held out her hands, actually, as if somehow pleading with God, palms up. 

Slowly, Maria took her hands and waited until Eliza looked at her before she said "Then let me help you."

"It's too..."

"Complicated? I can deal with complicated, lover."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

A kiss felt too much, but at least Maria could sort of wrap Eliza's arms around her waist then pull her in, inhaling the smell of baking then instantly hoping that hadn't made her seem creepy. They held on to each other, Eliza privately thinking Maria was some sort of life-raft sparing her from drowning in the mess she had made of her life.

They didn't pull away, either. Eliza quietly said "So, do you want to watch a movie?"

Maria laughed. "Anything you want."

At this, Eliza beamed and moved back but still held Maria's hands. "How do you feel about romcoms?"

"Eh, I don't know. Why?"

"We're going to watch 10 things I hate about you. And we're going to love it."

"... Yes ma'am."

Notes:

Hey loves, I know it's been a while but would appreciate it if you're still here... I am in fact alive.

A03 curse and all that jazz

Chapter 10: Having Said What I Said!

Summary:

More therapy with the Jeffersons

They scheduled the next therapy meeting like another date.

In pyjamas, with snacks, on the bed. In the background some boring antiques show was playing, some kind of background noise.

Angelica had her phone close to her face because she would genuinely rather die than wear glasses. "So..."

"So?" Thomas popped one of the grapes into his mouth. "What's next?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Is that the question?"

"Yes, that's the next one on this list." She sounded oddly anxious. Meanwhile he pretended to think about it. Angelica reached awkwardly around herself and threw her pillow at him. "Bastard."

"I'm kidding, I swear. Of course I trust you. Completely." He leant back against the headboard next to her, waiting for her answer.

"Okay well you don't need to go further than the truth, Thomas." She mumbled, tapping away a text on her phone.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything important."

He sat up again, turning to her quickly. "I'm not fucking lying, I trust you!"

This wasn't the outcome they exactly wanted to get. "Yeah, okay, I get it, relax."

"Do you trust me? At all?"

"I do!" But there was something about the way she said it that made his stomach drop.

"How much?"

Exasperated, Angelica just said "Can't we go to another question?"

"No, we can't. I want you to tell me. Scale of 1 to 10. How much do you trust me?"

"Why don't you go first?"

"I ALREADY ANSWERED."

"Well, I never asked you for a fucking scale!"

Visibly trying to make himself calm down, Thomas said "Let's say the number at the same time."

She rolled her eyes but nodded. "On three."

"One, two, three... Alright, ten." He said, at the same time Angelica answered bluntly "Six."

"WHAT?!" He really didn't mean to shout that loudly. Certainly hadn't meant to make her flinch.

Angelica looked weirdly panicked, setting the bowl of chips on her lap to her side so she could move slightly away. "Calm down, I only-"

"SIX? SIX IS YOUR ANSWER, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

"YES, SIX IS MY ANSWER!"

He hadn't expected her to match his yelling. At least it shut him up for a second. "Why?"

"Because you never talk to me! You avoid me half the time, if anything happens at work I only get told because my idiot brother in law tattles on you. You act as if you hate me half the time. I'm surprised when you say you want to stay together, because fuck knows you never show it!"

"But, still, you don't trust me?"

"No, I don't. I clearly can't trust you enough to talk to, or be honest, I can't trust you for anything else." She admitted. "I feel like I'm at war with you half the time."

Thomas took a deep breath and said as calmly as he could "Thank you for telling me."

"That's it?" Angelica narrowed her eyes.

"Well arguing with you hasn't helped us so far, has it?"

"Look at you, growing the fuck up."

"Took me long enough." None of this meant he wasn't angry, or disappointed, or meant he didn't want to screw the sheets into a ball in his fist, break something, anything. He didn't want her to know that. "Next question?"

She was busy looking at him, absent smile, didn't hear for a moment. "Oh, yeah, right, right." She flicked quickly through her phone.

Angelica hesitated, then said "... Do you love me and, if so, what way?"

The words hung in the air a second.

"Of course I do."

"I do to."

"You love yourself?" He could have made light of it, turned it into a shared joke, but Angelica wouldn't minimise how awful this felt for her so he didn't want to minimise it either.

Awkwardly, she cracked a grin and said "No, I meant you."

"I love myself?" He maintained the emotionless expression.

"No, I- yes, you do, actually." Then, she added as if she couldn't be any more ridiculous "Be serious."

"You be serious. Say I love you."

"You say it."

"I did!"

"No, Thomas, you didn't!"

"Well, I want to, I just..."

"What? What is it that makes me so hard to love, huh?"

That sentence stretched between them and they waited as if they weren't sure where it left either of them. Eventually he stood up. "I thought we were improving." He said quietly.

Her voice broke with desperation as she reached a hand out, practically begging. "We are!"

"Say it."

"I-"

"Tell me why you won't, at least." Ah, a compromise.

"I'm scared you don't."

"Well, I don't believe you do."

"This is insane."

"I know, I know."

She sighed. "Do you think we should... not say it?"

Thomas thought. "I think, yeah for now, we can leave it." He took her offered hand and got back into bed. "I've never regretted being with you, though, and I want you to know that at least."

Angelica wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that declaration, and apparently that was okay because neither was Thomas, who promptly turned over and switched off his lamp.

She lay there in half-darkness until she too turned her lamp off. What a world, where what they couldn't say made them so-

Ah, no. That was a thought for tomorrow. Angelica felt his arm over her as she lay there and she was glad they had whatever fragile normalcy they had developed.

Chapter 11: Son of God

Summary:

I don't know what this chapter is????

TW:
Internalised homophobia
A lot of it!!!
Religious basis to it so BE WARNED.

Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens hadn't interacted for 4 days.

Not that either were counting.

The difference was while Laurie had the figure looming in the back of his mind, an unwanted reminder of their argument, Hamilton was consciously keeping track. He couldn't forget yet a new reminder of just how badly he fucked things up. Practically tallied it.

Lest he forget what he'd done.

This was all because of his evil. Because he actually had the nerve, the fucking idiocy to let whatever poison had rotted his mind from a lack of a father to make him weak enough to want a man. He had thought things, he had thought things that would disgust Laurie, as well as anyone sane enough, to have heard them. Things about his beautiful face, his hands, his-

Alex pressed a palm to his temple and whispered "Wicked." to himself with a heartrending sincerity.

His entire body was weak, aching, and at every thought of John Laurens the aching grew.

He prayed all night, did Laurie hear that? Did he hear the words babbled to a silent God? Did he see Alexander slumped like a child with tears drying on sore eyes, begging for forgiveness from a deaf saviour?

Alex apologised until all words died in his throat. As a kid in Nevis he spoke to angels and now, when one was before him with a freckled face he was kept away by the words thou shalt not and a fear of his own Father.

Father.

The disciplinarian. Firm hand. Spare the rod, spoil the child. Alex deserved every ounce of punishment for the thoughts he didn't feel he asked for, and a thousandfold over for what he'd done to Laurie- the pain in his eyes when Alex snapped.

Good will does not carry. Alex was only trying to protect him.

Father.

The loving figure. Our father, the father of all. Our Father. Alex was never alone with his father by his side. He was alone now, though, truly.

Eliza had seen his messages to the woman. Laurie hated him. No one would talk to him.

Father, oh Father, what had he done?

 

After the pretty face of the new boy at work began to haunt Alex in dreams, he decided to drink his problems from his head. At a bar. Alone. Told Eliza he was working, left her well-wishing text on his phone with a quick like of the message.

"Hey. Can I sit here?"

"Sit where you like."

"Thanks, sir."

Scraping of the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, colour. He drank another glass.

"You here long?"

"No, miss."

"Am I bothering you?"

"N-No." He slurred a little. Her unease was palpable but he barely registered. Even when she glanced over his shoulder.

"I need your help." She spoke low.

"Help?"

"My husbands... doin' me wrong."

"He hit you?"

"Among other things. Now he's gone."

"Left?"

"Gone. I don't have... I can't... I have rent, sir. I have bills." A small sob. "What am I gonna do?"

When had they got outside?

"I- Hey, girl, listen, don't cry. Come to mine and I'll write- I'll write you a check."

"You're too kind, sir." So earnest, the girl was.

 

He kept seeing her.

She was beautiful. In a way, it was only because of that. In most ways, it was only because of that. Because of the firm knowledge he was proving himself, asserting his attraction to women. Every time they... Met.

If he could love her, if he could just love Maria, it would be fine.

 

Father, forgive me, I really know not what I do.

Nobody's son, and the whore's son, and the son of God, all at once. It gets confusing. After a spell.

 

Alexander asked the silence in the hotel room if he was guilty.

It whispered God did not care if he was guilty or not.

"I care." Alex replied to nothing. "I care a lot."

 

He cared so much.

God didn't, though. Neither did Laurie.

Alex picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number, and waited for Maria to pick up. And waited, and waited.

Notes:

Hello there! Alstor here begging for comments, kudos, subscriptions, bookmarks, souls, old coats, broken hearts, tattoos, five more minutes of sleep or an empty shoebox! Pick one wisely now, that's all imma say ... Fair thee well, friends and foes and those of you on thin ice...