The Teacher [ON HIATUS]

1. Let's sprinkle in some Lams

Today was an exciting day! After years and years of struggling with himself, he was here, happy, healthy, and 25 years old with clear skin. Today, Alexander Hamilton would be picking up his first set of testosterone shots. He raced around the apartment he shared with his fiancé, John Laurens, trying to find those damn shoes. John was also looking for them, wanting to leave as soon as possible. They were already late, too busy celebrating that morning to check the time. Two minutes later, they found the shoes and headed out the door. They climbed into John's car and left.

Staring out the window, Alexander wondered if his mother would be proud of him. He wondered if she was even alive. The last time he had seen her was before child services took him away when they deemed her unfitting to raise him. Sure they were going through a hard time, but that was only because his abusive asshole of a father had taken all of the little money they had and left. She even had a job lined up. They just needed another week or so. He wondered if his older brother, James, was living a happy life. If he got the perfect family he dreamed of: a beautiful, loving, and kind wife with one child and dog. Maybe James would be proud of him too. What about the rest of the town? Would they be proud of him? Is his cousin finally happy in that better place? He hoped everyone from his past was proud. He didn't know, but he knew everyone in his life now was proud of him.

The Washingtons, his adoptive family, and the Laurens' were so accepting before and when Alexander came out, he cried. They made sure he felt safe and loved. They were amazing. His life was going amazing.

Until it didn't.

They were on the freeway, and something hit them. John swerved, crashing them into something else. The last things Alexander heard were screams and ringing before he blacked out. He couldn't see anything before his consciousness gave out. He only saw the darkness of the inside of his eyelids. The last thing he felt was some warm stickiness and cold metal. The last thing he smelled was smoke.

Alexander woke up in an unfamiliar, small, white room. It reeked of sanitizer. His body, especially his head and legs, ached. He turned his head to the side when he heard the familiar voices of people gasping and sobbing. One was his sister, Kristina Santos. The other was his mother, Martha Washington.

"Lex," Kristina breathed. "Oh my god, you're awake!" She gripped one hand onto his, the other slipping into the pocket of her sweatpants, and fishing out her phone. One-handed, she typed out something to someone and stashed the device away. "Dad and Eleanor are coming." She looked to the side and pressed the red button that alerted the staff in case something was wrong. Martha just sat there holding Alexander's other hand, tears pricking at her eyes. She was unable to say anything, but he understood and nodded.

He tried to recall the events that led to this one, but he couldn't. The last thing he remembered was looking for something in their apartment how many days ago? That's when he remembered someone. "John," he gasped. "Where's John? Is he okay?"

Kristina frowned, and a nurse came into the room. The nurse had a baby blue name tag that read, Clara (She/Her). "Hello, Alexander. Glad someone's finally awake."

Alexander's brows furrowed. "Finally?"

"Three days," Martha cut in.

"But don't worry, you're doing just fine," Clara informed. "You and your baby are fine. I'll come and check on you again in a few minutes. Let me just need to grab some things before we start any tests." She smiled and left with a wave.

The room went quiet and cold. Alexander was in shock by this new information. He, Alexander Hamilton, was pregnant? He didn't even know.

"Alex, why didn't you tell us?" Martha asked. "You're not supposed to take testosterone while pregnant. You know this."

"I-" he was at a loss of words. Did John know? Is John even alive? Where was he? He tried to sit up, but when his leg shifted, and he pushed pressure on his arms, he squeaked in pain. Instead, he laid back down and pressed a hand to his stomach. "...didn't know."

Clara came in a few minutes later with papers and a metal tray full of medical stuff he couldn't name.

"Excuse me? How far along is my brother?" Kristina asked.

"Almost three weeks." Clara stuck a needle into Alexander's arm, releasing a liquid into his vein. "That should lower the pain. I would give you a higher dose, but you know your situation." She handed him some papers. "Your left arm is broken, your legs are very bruised, and have some deep cuts, so be careful, and you have a mild concussion. We'll need to set your arm soon..." she trailed off, writing something in a notebook. "Those papers have some more information about your current state, and stuff to help with your pregnancy."

"Where's John?" Alexander asked.

"Oh, well, he's stable, but we're not sure if he'll stay that way. The crash caused some heart problems." She turned to leave. "I'm sorry."

They sat in silence, Alexander letting the information sink in. John could die. Thoughts like those circled in his head for what felt like hours.

Eleanor, John's mother, was the first to arrive, immediately pulling her future son in law into a careful hug. They filled her in with the new information and was relieved, unlike Alexander. She said, "At least he's stable."

Alexander knew he should trust her judgment- after all, she was a nurse- but something just felt wrong. Maybe it was the concussion, but something was wrong.

George finally came into the room ten minutes later, to which he complained about the traffic. They filled him in like Eleanor, and he gave a comforting hug and forehead kiss to his son.

The group stayed there until visiting hours were over, just trying to lighten the mood. Alexander would get his arm set the next morning, and stay one more day for observation before he could leave.