Begin Again

Summary: Jefferson is not sure how exactly how to ask Alex if he remembers his past life without seeming insane.

"Are you seriously just gonna walk out of here without asking me?"

Thomas froze, a hand on the edge of a bookcase. Outside, the busy, rainy city day crashed around them and was completely oblivious to the legends tiptoeing around each other. Inside, the quiet of the library forced both Thomas and Alex to keep their voices down. It was the only way to have a conversation without yelling at each other, they'd found.

Slowly, Thomas turned back. He raised a single eyebrow. "Ask… what?"

Alex snorted, shrugged obnoxiously, and leaned back in his chair so that only the two back legs touched the floor. "Nevermind, man. I'd… well, I assumed you actually had a purpose for meeting with me here."

"Besides the school project."

"Uh, yeah."

Thomas rolled his eyes and walked back up to the table. "Look, kid. I don't like you. I don't want to spend any more time with you than is positively necessary."

Alex stuck his tongue out (such maturity) and thumped his front chair legs down suddenly. "I'm not a kid, and we're the same age."

Thomas glared at him. Alexander Hollins.

Formerly, Alexander Hamilton.

Formerly, his sworn political rival.

Formerly, a royal pain in the backside.

No, scratch that. Continually, a royal pain in the backside.

Course, Alex didn't know who he was before. He couldn't. No one else did. And Thomas Jefferson had run into several of them. Madison, Angelica, Washington…

No one remembered.

So why would Alex be any different?

"Technically, I didn't invite you," Thomas said testily. "We were assigned."

"Blah, but you're the one who said we should actually do the project together."

This was true. Thomas really couldn't say what possessed him to try and study with the most energy filled individual on the planet. When Alex wasn't biting his pencil, he was twirling it between his fingers and then dropping it and then tapping a beat on the table with his thumbs and muttering to himself.

Slowly, Thomas sat back down. "And we're nearly finished. So… I'm leaving."

Neither person moved.

Alex gave him a whatever look, sticking his bottom lip out. "Okay then. Leave. Don't ask."

"Ask what?" Thomas didn't want to play this game. A guessing, hoping, wondering game. Thomas Jordan had been cursed with memories of his past life because he'd been that much of a horrible person and it was that simple. Now he was paying for it. So yeah, there was no reason to ask Alex. (Yes, he'd planned on it, but it really couldn't possibly get a good reaction)

Now it was Alex's turn to glare. "Am I really gonna have to spell this out for you?"

Thomas cocked his head. "What do you think I'm gonna ask?"

Alex shook his head. "No, no. I'm not gonna say it."

Thomas tightened his jaw. "Then I guess we're stuck."

"Guess so."

They stared at each other in silence.

Dear god, how stubborn could they possibly be?

Very.

Finally, Alex groaned. "You know what? Screw you." With that, he turned his attention back to his project and would not look up.

And there you go, Thomas. Lost another chance. How many chances was he going to get? Suddenly overwhelmed, Thomas stood suddenly, grabbed his books, and started walking away. In his past life, he'd been a genius. He'd also been a coward and a racist and a slave plantation owner and an adulterer and an obnoxious little prick and a lot of other things and it did not pass over Thomas's head how fitting it was for him to be reborn as someone with dark skin.

He should stop trying to find them.

Anyone.

He quite deserved to be alone and that was that and he really should stop seeking Hamilton out now that he'd run into him. He didn't even like Alex.

Jefferson made it to the front door of the library and pushed his way through the revolving doors out into the sparkling wet street. He paused, shifted his backpack onto his shoulder, and started down the street with his eyes on the ground. He counted each sidewalk crack as he passed over it.

It was approximately twenty-seconds later, that a patter of feet and ruffling of papers brought Thomas to a stop. He sighed dramatically. "Alex. Dude. Leave me alone."

Alex, still significantly shorter than Jefferson (although he no longer had auburn hair as he had in his first life) struggled to keep all of his books in his book bag. "I changed my mind," he said. A bit out of breath. "As it turns out, I have a question for you instead."

Thomas blinked. He frowned and turned toward him. They were blocking the sidewalk and neither of them cared enough to move aside. "Uh… okay?"

"But I want you to ask your question first."

Thomas sighed. He wasn't going to ask. He'd gone down this road before and lost a friend. Madison thought I was crazy.

Alex wasn't a friend. But he wasn't really his enemy anymore either.

"I'm not asking first, Alex. Get over it."

A growl of frustration and Alex shoved the rest of his pages messily into his bag. "Fine! At the same time. We both say it at the same time."

Thomas frowned. He considered.

He could always say it quietly and then deny it if it didn't work out.

Slowly, Thomas nodded. "Alright, on three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

"Do you remember?" Thomas muttered at the same time as Alex said, "Do you remember me?"

Alexander grinned. Then he huffed and shoved Thomas's shoulder.

"Of course, I remember! Sheesh, Jefferson, I cannot believe you were going to just leave."

Thomas just stared at him. Alexander. Alexander Hamilton had called him Jefferson.

Alex snapped in his face. "Yo, dude. You okay?"

Thomas blinked. A small smile tugged the corners of his lips. "Figures it would be you I'm stuck with." He slapped Alex's hand away. "Guess that's part of the curse."

Hamilton gasped in mock offense. "Who's to say I'm not the cursed one."

"Cause you're not…" Thomas trailed off, realizing he didn't really want to say the rest of his sentence out loud. You're not a horrible person. I mean, yeah you made some horrible mistakes. Just not as many as I did.

Alex pulled the corner of Jefferson's sleeve out of the sidewalk, and he sat down at once of the tables on the porch of a little cafe. After hesitating a moment, Thomas sat down as well.

Hamilton cleared his throat. "So. Have you found anyone else?"

Thomas nodded. "A few. Washington. Angelica. Madison." Hamilton's eyes widened. "Before you get too excited, none of them remember and Madison has a court order against me cause I screwed up."

The excitement died. A frown formed on his lips. "Madison has a court order against you?"

Thomas nodded sharply. He didn't really want to bring that up… which was why of course Alex continued to press.

"Why?"

Why indeed.

Sighing, Thomas leaned his elbows on the table and pinched between his eyes. "In summary, it's not a good idea to relentlessly attempt to get someone to remember a past life when they don't even know you or believe in reincarnation."

"Oh." Carefully, Alex nodded. "That's why you didn't want to ask me."

"Exactly."

They fell into silence, each studying the other like they'd never seen a human being before.

"You look… really different." Hamilton eventually said.

This made Thomas smirk. He nodded in agreement. "I believe it's probably ironic something, karma, or something like that."

Hamilton nodded. But his eyes stayed serious. He seemed to read deeper into Thomas's words than Thomas had wanted him to. "Those were the times, Thomas," he said softly. "Even George Washington had slaves." Hamilton hadn't. Thomas knew this for a fact. Hamilton had seen how slaves were treated in the Caribbean and never chose to own slaves. It was something Thomas had made fun of about him, Thomas remembered bitterly.

"It's not an excuse."

"No."

Again, silence reigned. As usual, it was Hamilton to break the silence. He exhaled and changed the subject. "Anyway, that was nearly three hundred years ago."

He smirked a bit and took out his school notebook. The subject was not at rest, but Alex seemed alright to place to the side for now.

He opened his notebook and glanced up at Thomas, who was watching him curiously. "What are you doing?"

Alex shrugged. "Dude, we still have to finish our final project."

Oh. Right.

It was strange how insignificant these things were in comparison.

"And, uh, now that we both know, can we stop pretended we don't know anything about this project?"

He lifted up the page. Key Players in the Revolutionary War.

Thomas smirked. "For the record, I am way more of a key player than you were."

"Not even remotely true." Hamilton countered automatically. "You were in France for most of it!"

Thomas snorted "I wrote the Declaration of Independence!"

And on they went. There was no malice in the arguments. In fact, the debating was rather fun. It was relaxing. Familiar.

And although Thomas would never admit it, right now, he was quite alright working a history capstone paper with Alexander Hamilton. It was far better than being alone.

AN: So I posted this and other little fics on my tumblr (littleoptomistme, btw), but I realized it isn't on this site. So here you are. One shots that are loosely connected, I think will be the flavor of these stories. Anyway, please leave a review? Cause I'd love that?