The Teacher [ON HIATUS]

6. Philip

I'm actually really proud of this chapter

TW: asthma attack, sad thoughts

"Hey, Pip, I'm gonna drop you off at grandma and grandpa's house, okay?" Alexander looked through the rear-view mirror and saw Philip nodding. Perfect.

The whole time, his hands gripped the steering wheel, desperately trying not to let them start shaking. He wanted to cry. God, he wanted to so bad, but he needed to focus on driving. Eyes on the road. He was almost there.

Alexander bit his lip, anxiously waiting for the stoplight to turn green. He shut his eyes to take a deep breath. The overwhelming pitter-pattering of the rain only made him more stressed. He really couldn't catch a break today, could he? You know what? No, he was going to cry a little bit then. He was tired and stressed and-

A loud honk startled him out of his head. The light was green. He let out a shuddering gasp as he struggled not to start hyperventilating.

Just drive. Lift your foot off the fucking brake.

The honks started getting louder and his foot just wouldn't move. So he shut his eyes again, trying to take a breath. It was all okay. He was just being dramatic and such. He managed to press on the gas just in time for the light to turn yellow, bringing a few curses from the people behind him.

He couldn't handle this anymore.

Alexander drove into a parking lot. Maybe a Target or a Walmart or something. It was starting to get hard to breathe and he couldn't stop hacking. Philip was sleeping so he had to try to manage his asthma attack as quietly as possible. His breathing only picked up again as his inhaler was nowhere to be found.

Panicking won't help anything, dumbass.

But he still did. He still started silently sobbing, smacking his head back onto the headrest. People around him stared for a moment and just looked away. They thought he was crazy. Maybe he was.

This is fucking pathetic. What the fuck are you doing?

Why was he even crying? Was it stress? Because he lost his inhaler? It was most likely both. Wow, a temper tantrum because of a minor inconvenience, how very Alexander Hamilton.

You're a goddamn child. Pick yourself up.

Alexander couldn't stop crying and coughing. He could feel the phlegm closing up his throat and every second, it got harder and harder to stay silent. He couldn't breathe and the loud gasping was only going to make more trouble. He started squirming in his seat, causing his wet shoes to start making squeaking noises against the surfaces of his car. How was Philip still asleep?

You're such a failure, a disappointment.

"Shut-" he cut himself off with another gasping cough.

Your son needs you and you're over here fucking things up. Wow.

"Shut up," he whispered.

Just accept it. You're a girl and there's nothing you can do about it.

"Stop. Stop it," he cried.

You're a girl and you know it. Wow, she really wants to be oppressed that badly, huh? Fucking attention whore.

"Please stop." Alexander banged his head on the cushion one more time before just hiding in his arms. "Stop," he said. His voice was cracking and he just wanted to disappear. He wanted to pretend he didn't exist...

But Philip needed him.

Philip.

He was the only thing that grounded him. Philip was the only person who mattered. He had to breathe. He needed to be okay. For Philip.

So Alexander clenched his eyes shut.

Philip.

He took a deep breath through his nose. He recalled the first time Philip was in his arms. Philip looked so fragile and Alexander just wanted to make him feel safe and loved. He wanted to make sure Philip never touched harm in his life. He took another deep breath, sighing at the feeling of the oxygen smoothly entering his lungs.

Alexander popped a cough drop into his mouth and drove off. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew there was something wrong with what he said to himself, but for now, he brushed it off as stress. His brain could be sorted through when he was not on the verge of tears.

He made sure to check his eyes still weren't red and puffy before knocking on his parent's house. The Washingtons had always lived there, and Alexander liked that. It was always a familiar sight. The same feeling of warmth, and while the kitchen always smelled different from the food Martha was cooking, it somehow managed to feel the same as well. Whatever she cooked was made with love and anyone who ate a bite could taste it. Martha let him in, and today, the kitchen smelled like freshly baked cookies.

"Come, sit. Your father should be home soon. He said something about a meeting with one of his employees," Martha said, leading him and Philip to the couch. "Now, how are my favorite boys doing?" Philip climbed into her lap, giggling when she tickled his stomach.

"We're doing alright," Alexander lied, biting his lip. He always hated lying to Martha, but he didn't need pity right now.

Martha stared at him for a moment. "Well, that great. You sounded really stressed over the phone." He just nodded slowly. "Are you sure you're okay?" He nodded again.

"Yeah, yeah, why-why do you ask?"

"Your breathing kinda, um, like you're starting to hyperventilate and your eyes are all glossy." Alexander stayed silent, rubbing his knuckles. "Hun, if you don't want to talk about what happened, just say so. Please don't lie and say you're fine."

Slowly, he shifted towards her. "Can I have a hug?" he mumbled.

She gave him a sad smile, holding her son in her arms. "Of course you can, my handsome boy."

-

Alexander decided to stay long enough for George to come home. He'd planned on talking to him and Martha alone for a bit so it was a surprise when he came home with a coworker.

"Hello, Alexander," George greeted, obviously in a rush.

"Hi, I'm so sorry, I'll be out of your hair soon," the coworker said with his head lowered, allowing for his wispy, dark curls to hide his face. From what Alexander could see, the man was dark-skinned and easily at least 6 feet tall. Alexander saw the confident, assholey stance the man took while entering the room so the new, shy demeanor was a bit shocking.

"Yes," George confirmed. "I left a few documents in my office, but we'll be done soon."

"That's alright, dear." Martha stood up, taking a sleeping Philip to lay down.

-

Soon turned into a few hours and both the man, who Alexander learned was named Thomas Jefferson, and he ended up staying for dinner. Thomas seemed to hate him or something because his cocky attitude had come back and he acted like Alexander wasn't even there. He wouldn't even look in his direction. Thankfully, the asshole left after dinner, allowing Alexander to talk to his parents. There weren't any tears this time, though it was close.

"Son, you should sue," George said.

"Probably, but you know how much money and time that could take!" Alexander yelled.

"We'll figure something out, dear." Martha rubbed his arm in a calming matter.

"No, I need to figure something out."

"You're allowed to need help, Alex," George said.

"I know, I just-" he sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's alright."

A/N: go give my friend some love and don't tell them I sent you <3