Favorable (Jamilton)

24. Jefferson

Thomas sat patiently in the room, waiting for Alex to come back. He felt like a parent waiting for their teenage kid to come home from a party, but he had no idea where his roommate went and after the past week, he had an overwhelming sense of "I need to keep that idiot safe" toward Hamilton. 

It might not have been such a mystery as to why, though. Jefferson thought back to the day Alexander's mom died and how she asked him to get her a glass of water that she never even touched. There was a reason behind that. Rachel wanted to have a conversation that she thought was important and she didn't want her son to hear. 

Thomas remembered how she looked, frail and scared, it was like she let everything go as soon as her reason to stay strong left the room. She didn't look like she wanted to die, she probably didn't want to leave her family behind. . . If only she knew that it didn't take Peter long to follow her. 

Jefferson made her a promise that day. She specifically asked him to watch over her son and make sure he stayed out of trouble. Thomas wondered why she didn't ask Peter. Maybe because he wasn't there or maybe because, deep down, she knew what was coming for her nephew as well. Either way, she made it very clear that Thomas needed to be the one to make sure Alex was doing alright with anything he needed. 

Despite what Hamilton thought, Thomas did care, at least somewhat. It did seem a little suspicious since it took up until this point for Thomas to even consider the fact that maybe hating Alex wasn't the way to go. He liked to think that it was because of how much he learned about his roommate. 

Before the trip, Thomas could have made a five-page full paragraph presentation on why he thought Alexander Hamilton was nothing more than a spoiled rich kid that got his allowance taken away so he took up jobs from other people to get more. He seemed like the person that would do anything for money, which wasn't completely off, he just didn't do it for himself. Ninety percent of the money he made probably went to his family. 

It was admirable to a point, but there was also the dangerous part that probably kept Peter up at night, knowing that part of his family was going out doing these jobs that could get him arrested or in the worst cases death. Thomas was getting anxious just thinking about that and really he wasn't even supposed to like Alexander. 

Still, though, he was sitting up close to midnight waiting for Alex to come back and prove he was alive. Stupid morals, getting in the way of sleep.

He stood up, deciding that sitting and waiting was doing nothing to calm his nerves. Instead, he started pacing around the entire room. He ran a hand through his hair and started thinking of reasons that Hamilton would be gone for what was now five hours. It was still the weekend, so classes wouldn't be an option. Running around to get things from teachers, maybe. 

That seemed like the most reasonable assumption, but still. With the apparent disappearances going on, anything could have happened. 

The thought of Alexander being kidnapped put Thomas even more on edge than he already was. He pulled out his phone, ready to dial in Hamilton's number and yell at him for ignoring the new curfew that was just set not even twelve hours ago. 

Before he could do anything, though, he realized he didn't even know what number to call. They'd been living together for how long and Thomas had no clue how to get a hold of him. Luckily for him, Alex walked in right after he put the phone away. 

"Do you have any idea what time it is?!" Thomas whisper-yelled, careful not to disturb any of the surrounding rooms. 

"Yeah, time for you to stop acting like my mom," Alex spat, flinging himself into his bed and hiding under the covers again. Thomas sighed and sat down next to him. 

"Okay, something's wrong." 

"What did I just say?" Hamilton growled. 

"You're using your mom as an insult, after this last week if you have any respect for her, you wouldn't. What's up?"

It was Alex's turn to sigh as he sat up, still keeping the blanket wrapped around himself. 

"Why are you acting like you care about this all of the sudden? What changed your mind about hating me?" 

Of all the things that Hamilton could have said, Thomas wasn't expecting that one. He had answers lined up in case he said something along the lines of "I hate you," or "get out of my face," or even "hey let's go get dinner tomorrow and talk about shit."

"Well, uhm, I mean. . . I don't know, I guess I learned more about you after the past week? It's really not an act, you get to know someone and you'll probably start caring about them."

Alex hummed in response and flopped back down. "Then tell me about you." 

"Wow, you don't care about me, that's cool. I see how it is, I didn't care anyway," Thomas said sarcastically, going to sit on his own bed. 

"Just tell me about yourself, asshole." Despite the annoyed tone, Thomas could see Alex holding back a smile. 

"Well, my name's Thomas--"

"Thanks, I thought you were Mary," Hamiton said sarcastically. "I mean like what's really you. All that deep shit that you don't tell anyone. You went to my entire family's shared funeral, I don't want to know your name."

Thomas stopped for a second. He didn't really know if he could trust Alex with that information, but he had a point. After considering it for a second, he continued. 

"Okay. . . You already know that I don't remember my dad, so I guess I can start with that. Mom never remarried and she became a little dependant on strangers. One night stands and all that. There were times where she wouldn't come home for days at a time, but when she did she would just give Jane money and leave. Let's see, I've got nine siblings total, but, uhm, only seven are actually alive. When I was around five-ish, my mom lost two sons and that really. . . She wasn't the same after that. She got way into alcohol and that's where we got Elizabeth, Martha, Lucy, Randolph, and Anna. They don't really even know Mom, they just know that Jane isn't supposed to be their mom. Jane passed the responsibility to Mary when she left. Mary passed it to me, I passed it to my younger sister Elizabeth. Right now, she's probably fighting to keep herself awake to do homework or something. . ." 

Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess my goal is to get them out of that. Buy a house, take all of em in. . ."

"Get onto Easy Street?" Alex realized quietly. 

"Yeah. So, you know, flirt with everyone. Maybe someone with money'll come around and get me there."

Thomas had to admit, saying all that out loud to a real person did feel refreshing. Despite all of Mary and Jane's efforts, neither of them really knew how it affected their brother. Thomas and Mary had always had the sort of relationship where neither of them had to say when they were upset, and they never really had to do anything about it either. They would sit with each other until whoever was upset felt better. Maybe have a conversation. Really, it depended on the severity of the situation.

Like when Jane first left. Thomas remembered waking up for something in the middle of the night Jane left to see Mary still sitting awake in the living room. They both knew that she got it the easiest, she'd only have to keep everything running for a year, but that didn't help her relax at all. Thomas didn't say anything that night, he just went over and sat next to her with his head on her shoulder until they fell asleep. 

Jane just never really had the time to listen to everything wrong with each and every one of her younger siblings, that's where everyone else pitched in.

"Wait so then how do you have enough money for all the designer, on-brand clothes that you have?" 

Thomas had to smile. "Jane didn't want any of us to be made fun of for not having enough money to buy clothes that weren't from resale stores, so she sewed some of the tags inside our clothes." 

Alexander was quiet for a solid minute before he did anything. Then, without a word, he went over and laid down next to Jefferson. 

"Life sucks." 

"Yeah, it really does. But we're supposed to make the most of it or whatever."

"Sounds lame."

"Agreed."