Hamilton Oneshots (Discontinued)

Numb (Jamilton)

So, you ready for more angst?
I am.
Woooooooo
Trigger Warnings: Depression, Self Harm.

*SouthernMacaroni's PoV*

Cabinet Meetings are the worst. I don't know what's even going on half the time except that I don't agree with Hamilton.
Right now he's going off on one about why we need his plan so badly, and I swear we've been here for at least an hour.
I glance next to me and see James has nearly fallen asleep, and if I didn't have to argue with Hamilton, I'd have fallen asleep myself. He just goes on and on!
"Thomas Jefferson, always hesitant with the President, reticent there isn't a plan he doesn't jettison! Madison, you're mad as a hatter, son, take your medicine, damn, you're in worse shape than the national debt is in! Sittin' there useless as two (NO): hey, turn around, bend over, I'll show you where my shoe fits." The obnoxious immigrant spits, looking James directly in the eye as he strides over. I jump up to protect my friend as I push Hamilton away.
"Excuse me?" Washington suddenly cries as he pulls Hamilton away.
He tells James and I to leave, as he also does with Hamilton, who storms out of the room slamming the door behind him. It looks as though he's about to cry.
"I hate kids." I hear Washington mumble as he picks up his things to leave.
Once I've made sure James is okay (he was startled when Hamilton went off at him), I go to find the man and settle things with him without the President being aware.

(Smol skip brought to you by my terrible life choices)

"HAMILTON!" I yell as I near his office. I may as well let him know of my arrival.
I'm about to kick the door down when I hear...crying?
Nah, I doubt it.
"I'M COMING IN!" I shout again, and as I go to storm in, I hear a muffled
"No."
"Are you... are you crying?" I ask, sure that he is.
"No."
He's crying.
"I'm coming in and you can't stop me." I say, pulling the handle down and opening the door a lot less angrier than originally intended.
"Look, we need to settle this, you can't just- OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" I suddenly yell as my eyes travel to his bloodied wrists.
"Get. Out." He whimpers, cradling his wrist that was oozing blood. Next to him lay a pocket knife.
"Hamilton, oh my god what did you do? Do you need band aids? Antiseptic cream? Why did you do this? Was it me? Oh god please don't say it was me!" I ramble, panic overtaking any rage left in me.
"Leave, please get out Thomas. Please!" He begs.
Thomas? Since when did he- doesn't matter.
"Hamilton, let me help you. Let me see." I say softly, as though I was talking to a child.
"N-no." He stutters, but puts up no fight.
I crouch down to his shaking body on the floor and gently lift his wrist as I examine it.
From what I can see there are 7 fairly deep cuts, some starting to clot slightly.
"My god." I whisper. "Do you have bandages?" I ask him, he nods shakily.
"D-drawer, second down."
I look in the drawer and find a roll of bandages as well as cotton pads and antiseptic cream. Why does he keep this stuff in here on hand?
I crouch back down next to him and pour some of the cream onto a cotton pad.
"This'll hurt." I say before wiping the cuts down. He winces but shows no other signs to say that he's in pain. It makes me wonder how often he does this procedure himself.
I try not to dwell on it as I clean the cuts. Some of them bleed a little, but I pat them down with a fresh cotton pad. I then take the bandages and wrap them around his wrist, tying it at the end. When I'm satisfied with my work, I stand him up and guide him to his desk chair.
"How long?" I ask him, holding his hand gently in mine.
"E-eight years." He tells me as a tear runs down his face. I wipe it away with my hand and feel my own eyes water slightly.
"Could you tell me why?" Softness coats my voice, which was slightly strange as I was never one to be so nice, but now was a fragile situation. I understood that.
"Well, when my mom d-died, I fell into a state of depression, then my cousin committed suicide, so that didn't help," the man in front of me gave a weak chuckle and continued.
"My brother and I were separated, and then a hurricane hit my hometown and destroyed everything. That's when I started...cutting." He finished, squeezing my hand.
"What happened today, was I the reason you did what you did just now?" I ask, worried that I had caused his most recent breakdown.
"Not really, I had a lot on my mind anyway which is why I said what I did to Madison. You didn't cause today, that was just my mind. Usually Lafayette would help me, but he's in France, and John..." Hamilton let out a sob as I kneeled in front of him. He fell into my arms and I let him cry into my shoulder.
I didn't know much about 'John Laurens', but Lafayette had talked to me about him so I had some idea of who he was and what happened to him. I helped Lafayette when he heard of Laurens' death, the Frenchman fell into a mild depression himself, though nothing nearly as bad as Hamilton's.
Hamilton sniffed and stood up, picking the knife up off of the floor and handing it to me.
I stare at him confused with the knife in my hand.
"I don't want it. Keep it or throw it away." He tells me, wiping his face with a tissue and organising his papers.
"Uh, okay. Are you feeling better?" I ask. He nods at me, but I notice how tired he looks. I sigh, contemplating what to do.
I throw the knife in the trash and take Hamilton's good arm, dragging him out of his office. He protests but I ignore him. I make my way to Washington's office and open the door without knocking.
"Mr Washington, could you excuse Hamilton and I, we have something to settle. We're going to my home so nothing gets damaged here." I tell him, making up the lie as I go.
He raises and eyebrow at me and waves his hand.
"Sure, just don't break any bones. Be sensible about how you settle this." He lectures, and I leave the room dragging Hamilton behind me.
"What are we doing?" He asks me, i just shake my head and walk to my house.

(Smol skip)

We get to my house and I close the door.
"Head over to the couch." I instruct.
"Thomas, what?"
"Don't question, just go to the couch." I repeat, heading to my guest room to grab some blankets.
I return about a minute later so see the man passed out on my couch. I smile softly and make my way over to him. I sit down and lift him gently onto my lap , letting him lie there. I put a blanket over the both of us and drift to sleep, stroking my fingers through his hair.

There was fluff at the end, so that's cool.
By the way, I in no way encourage self harm. If you feel depressed or want to/have self harmed, then you should seek professional help. I know that you've probably heard that before and are getting sick of hearing it, but it is the best thing to do. You are all important, and deserve happiness <3

-Bye.