Critical (Jamilton)

20. Thomas, Your Response?

Jefferson

"I'm sorry, you did what?!" Thomas yelled. Hamilton sat on the edge of the bed, nervously tapping his foot. "Why would you think forgiving him was the best thing to do?!"

"I didn't forgive him," Alexander clarified. "I just told him that I'd give him a chance at a fresh start, okay?"

"No! Not okay! Opposite of okay! We're making decent progress here, working past your 'leaving every time things go wrong' habit, your nightmares are dying way down, you're getting back into your old habits! Why the hell would you forgive him!?"

"I didn't forgive him," Alex said again, standing up. 

"Oh, right, you just gave him a chance. A chance to what, Alexander? A chance to kill you? Because you know that's what he's going to do!" 

"No, I actually don't. Maybe he really just wanted a fresh start, you ever think of that?"

Thomas stared at Alex for a second. He pinched the bridge of his nose and continued with his pacing. 

"Let me get this straight," he muttered. "part of the reason that you can barely stand to leave the house shows up and it takes you less than a week to forgive him? Right, sorry, give him a chance? Seriously?" 

"Uhm, no. Actually, you're the one that insists I don't go out on my own, remember?" 

"I'm trying to keep you safe!" 

Hamilton stood up and blocked Jefferson's pacing path, which he ignored. He just paced the shorter length of the room. 

"Maybe I don't need you to do that!" yelled back at him

Thomas stopped and turned around, silently telling Alex to continue. 

"I need to move past this shit on my own, Jefferson, you can't just coddle me all the time!" 

"Oh, right, says the asshole that tries to leave at least once a week!" 

"Excuse me for not knowing what to do when part of my trauma shows up in front of me!" 

"Are we still talking about the one that you just forgave?" Thomas asked sarcastically, moving around Hamilton to pace again. 

Alex groaned and stepped in front of him each time Jefferson moved around him. 

"Can you stop pacing so we can use your precious communication?" Hamilton practically screeched. 

"There's nothing to communicate," Thomas growled. "You don't have any decent coping mechanisms so your solution is to go out and just have a friendly conversation with one of your kidnappers over a cup of coffee?"

"It wasn't a friendly conversation!" 

Thomas spun around so fast it almost knocked Hamilton off his feet. He stormed closer to Alex, forcing him to move backward until the wall stopped him. Thomas looked at Alexander and the pure angry expression on his face and he could have sworn that everything that he thought he had was just a dream and he just went on hating Hamilton from day one. 

"What do you call it then?" he hissed. 

Alex shoved past him and went back to sit on the bed, leaving the floor free for frustrated pacing, which Thomas took advantage of. 

"I call it a civil conversation, something you're incapable of having," Alexander muttered. 

"I'm sorry, what was that?" 

Hamilton shot off the bed again and went off. "I said you can't have one civil conversation! At least not without talking to me like I'm some unstable kid!" 

"Maybe--"

"Shut up. No, you think that I need you, which I don't Thomas, I got by just fine before I even met you!" 

"Before you met me you only had to deal with a sick parent! You were held captive for six years, Hamilton, that's a little different!" 

"Oh, please. Why do you think I keep trying to leave? I don't need you!" 

"Well then maybe you should just leave then! Go right ahead, I'm not going to stop you this time!" Thomas stormed over to the closet and through Alex's bag out, which was still holding some clothes. "Obviously too much has changed since you first disappeared because I don't even know who the hell you are anymore!" 

"You're just pissy that I'm finally telling you how it is and killing your ego." Alexander made his way behind Thomas. "I don't need you to treat me like a fucking child--"

"Shut up, Hamilton." 

"--I don't need you to treat me like I don't know what to do--"

"Shut up, Hamilton."

"--and I. Don't. Need. You--"

"I said shut. Up!"

Without thinking, Thomas swung his arm back, smacking Alexander's cheek with a room-silencing clap.

The regret was immediate as Alex slowly picked his head up to look at Jefferson. His cheek was already starting to look red and the facial expression that he had was nothing less than fear and hurt. Thomas reached out to try to comfort him, but Alex just swatted his hand away, letting his face set into an expression of something that Jefferson didn't even want to think about. 

"Darlin', I just--"

"Don't." Ham bent over to pick the bag up, slinging it over his shoulder as he stood. "You're right, I should just go because right now I have no idea who I'm looking at." 

Hamilton went to the door, ignoring Thomas asking for him to wait.

As promised, though, Jefferson let him go.