Yo, thank you so much for checking out Part Two of the Wings 'verse. If you're new to my work please read Waiting in the Wings for You first as the sequel will not have context without it. Fair warning, I am back in school in addition to my full-time job and I have a some personal stuff that is draining both my time and creative energy, so please be aware that I may not be as consistent with my uploads. I try to update daily but there may be a productivity decrease in this story. With that said, here's some good, fluffy, caring Hamilton-Laurens family action.

I unlocked the door and called out to Alex. The apartment was dark and I kicked my shoes off by the door, adding them to the pile of Alex's and Philip's.

"Babe?" I called over the sound of the washer and wandered through his apartment to his bedroom.

He was sitting up against his headboard, Philip on top of him hugging him around his neck, both of them bare chested, blankets pulled up over Philip's back. They were sleeping fitfully, Alex sounding congested, Philip's mouth wide open, his little nose bright red. Alex still had his hand tangled in Philip's curls.

I sat on the edge of the bed, noting how warm it was, and rubbed Alex's thigh, my hand trailed up to Philip's back, his skin was cool and clammy. After a few minutes of my presence hanging in the air Alex startled awake, spiraling himself into a coughing fit. He held Philip tightly to give him more leverage to cough. I heard the gunk shaking loose in his chest.

"You're sick, too." I sighed.

Alex lie back into the pillows and resumed running his fingers through Philip's hair, "yeah," he licked his lips, "Typhoid Philip got me."

The buzzer on the washer startled me as I pouted at him empathetically, "of course he did. I'm sorry, darlin', I brought the stuff you asked me to, should I go get the grown up versions?"

He shook his head, "I'm fine, I keep enough shit on hand to choke a horse for me, I do shots of Dayquil like a Girls Gone Wild candidate."

I smiled at him, knowing how true it was, "what can I get you guys?"

"Water?"

"You got it," I patted his thigh and got up.

"And, Jack?"

I turned around.

"I'll give you twelve dollars and a raincheck for an orgasm if you switch over the laundry."

I smirked at him, "twelve dollars, huh?"

"That's all the cash in my wallet."

"I gotchu."

I went to the kitchen and filled up a cup of water and then went into the laundry closet. Philip's comforter was in the washer, I untangled it and threw it into the dryer with a few dryer sheets, setting the machine. Upon my return, Alex gratefully accepted my offering of the glass of water.

"Anything else?"

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard and then letting out a shaky breath as another wave of nausea hit him.

"Poor babe." I sighed.

Alex weakly patted the bed next to him and I carefully crawled over him and Philip to take my spot by the wall. I could feel the chill of cold air coming through the old panes of the window, the warmth of the blankets inviting. I snuggled up to Alex, offering for him to curl against my chest, he shook his head, claiming that moving could be disastrous and I just pressed myself around him, feeling how cold and clammy his skin was, like Philip's.

"When did you get sick?" I asked.

"This afternoon. I know, according to germ theory, that Philip got me sick like a day ago or whatever, but I feel like the defining moment was giving him a bath at three a.m. last night to clean him up after he puked all over God and everything when he sneezed on my face."

I winced, "just, right…" I pulled a face at the thought.

"Oh, yeah, just, achoo and then all up in my shit."

"I wondered about the comforter."

"Funny story, that's the second time it's been washed in twenty-four hours."

"No…"

"Mhm, see how much fun being a dad is?" He managed a chuckle.

"Well, I'm glad I'm here now."

"God, you have no idea how glad I am that you're here. Lafayette okay? Show go alright?"

"Everything was fine, we all lived."

"Good." This seemed to make him relax.

"How is your bed so freaking cozy?"

"Electric blanket."

I smirked at him, "you would, cold blooded."

"It makes it feel less like sleeping alone." He shrugged.

"Well, I'm here now."

"It's also just cold and shitty out. I got this when we were in our first place and we had shitty heat, gets the job done."

Alex coughed again, this time disturbing Philip who sat up and wiped his eyes.

"Daddy?" Philip's voice was so small.

"What, baby?" Alex drank from his water cup to calm his coughing.

"I don't feel good."

"I know, baby. You feel like you're gonna be sick again?" He suddenly seemed fine, it was hard to believe that he was even sick.

He shook his head, "just don't feel good."

"Me either," Alex relaxed back into his sick fugue and tucked a curl behind Philip's ear as he realized that I was there.

"John," Philip pouted.

"What's up, kid?"

"I'm so, so sick."

"Yeah, that's a bummer, huh?"

"Yeah, and now my daddy is sick, too. Are you sick?"

"Nope,"

"Keep it that way, Pip, no face sneezies on John." Alex teased, playful despite the flat tone sickness put in his voice.

"I know," Philip nodded, "John, I want cuddles."

I opened my arms to him, "come here, baby."

Philip drug his clammy body onto my chest and curled into me the same way that he had been on Alex. Slowly, with trepidation, Alex rolled onto his side away from us, letting out a groan.

"John," Philip whispered, "is it late late?"

"Yeah," I pulled the heated blanket over us and smoothed back his sweaty hair, "I just got done at the show."

"Daddy couldn't go to work today, 'cause he got sick."

I nodded, "I know, but that's okay."

"Gabriela and Carmen took care of me the other day when just I was sick, but today daddy could took care of me 'cause he was sick, too."

Alex interjected in our conversation, his weak voice distorted from his face being smushed into the pillow, "'could take' not 'could took', Pip."

"Okay." Philip agreed.

"Yeah, they take good care of you." I nodded, closing my eyes.

"John, are you sleepy?" Philip asked, his cool hand on my cheek.

"Yes," I kicked a leg toward Alex, wanting to offer him comfort, too, I ran my toes over the back of his ankle.

Alex snuffled and reached hand back to stroke my thigh. I fell asleep holding Philip.

I sneezed myself awake in the dark of night, finding Philip still lying on me. His hot forehead pressed to my neck, a damp spot on my t-shirt over my chest from his drool, the rest of my shirt damp with his sweat. At some point in the night, Alex had taken claim to my shoulder, my arm around him, hand resting on his elbow.

Alex felt me moving and bolted up, his hair barely still tied back in its bun. I reassured him and he cuddled back against me. None of us had any desire to wake up, I tightened my grip on Alex and fell back asleep, relieved that it was Monday, and that by magic, we actually had two days off this week. Philip started coughing and groaned, burrowing closer into me, his small body shaking with the intensity of his coughs.

"Sugar," I patted Alex's arm, trying to be soothing, not wanting him to panic.

He wiped his eyes and rubbed Philip's back, "what is it, John?"

"He's coughing more and I think he's feverish."

Alex drug himself out of bed and came back with a hoodie over his naked chest and was drinking Dayquil out of the bottle, he had a smaller medicine cup filled with liquid for Philip.

"Jesus, darlin', could at least mix it with Sprite." I winked.

He smirked at me, "no cute boy brought me any after I casually mentioned recreationally using cough syrup."

"That's what you think. Check the fridge."

His eyes lit up as his grin ignited them and he sat back on the bed, "who would've thought that the sweetest part of a relationship would be founded on lean?"

"I mean, any relationship where someone gets sick as much as you."

"God, you make me feel like the luckiest dumbshit ever."

"How so?"

"Like, how did I end up with you? Thomas never… I'm sorry, I don't mean to bring him up, I just… I really love you."

"I love you, too, 'Lex. I don't know how anyone could not want to take care of you. You're adorable when you're sick," I scooted up the headboard, starting to rouse Philip for his medicine, and realized how dizzy I felt, "oh, shit."

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head and let out a deep breath, "I'm okay."

Alex sighed, "Typhoid Philip strikes again?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Damn." Alex pinched the bridge of his nose.

I turned my focus to Philip, "hey, baby, wake up."

He coughed into my neck and Alex cringed.

"Remember, germ theory, like you said, I've already had it." I tried to assuage his worries.

"I know, but he's gross." Alex pouted at his snotty, sick kid.

Philip sat up, "Daddy?"

"Yeah, hi, baby, gotta take some meds, okay? This isn't the icky one, though."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Alex rubbed his back and handed him the medicine cup.

Philip drank it back like a champ and gladly accepted Alex's water, he shivered in the cool air. I coughed and held my forehead to see if I could keep my brain from rattling around. Alex handed me the bottle of cough syrup. I took a demure sip as opposed to his brazen glug. He left the room again and came back with a long sleeve shirt for Philip.

"You want a change of clothes, sweetheart?" He asked me.

I considered how dirty my shirt had become, "please?"

He rummaged through his shirts and returned to the bed, helping Philip dress himself, "thanks, daddy." He pouted in a small voice, sounding generally sick and miserable.

Alex kissed the top of Philip's head and handed me a black shirt, I swapped it for the shirt I'd been wearing, and as I pulled my hair free from the neck hole smirked at him, "thanks, daddy."

Alex got back in bed and made a face at me, I noticed him squirm just slightly, "that's so not cool. You can't do that to a sick man with a sick child."

"I dunno, makes me feel like a magician. I'm drunk with power."

"That's just the Dayquil."

I rolled my eyes and took note of the writing on the shirt he'd given me, reading it aloud, "'if you can see me, something's gone terribly wrong'? What… oh, wait… God, you're a nerd."

"Stage crew humour." Alex shot finger guns at me.

"You're obnoxious." I teased him.

Philip crawled back into Alex's arms and I took my place under his arm, switching positions based on who Philip wanted to be with.

"Jack, sweetheart, do you need anything else?" Alex kissed my forehead.

"No, I'm okay, I'm not one to get man sick. I'll be fine."

"I don't get man sick," Alex protested.

"Oh, no, not you, just like those dudes in general, I'm not a man sick kind of guy… have you never seen me sick?"

"Not for real… and not when there wasn't tequila involved."

"I told you, I don't drink tequila."

"Gabriela would disagree." Alex pointed out.

"That was a rough morning," I sighed.

"But, it was a fun night."

"Sure was."

"Why would Miss Gabriela disagree?" Philip asked.

"Doesn't matter, grown up talk." Alex shut it down.

"Grown up talk is boring."

"I know, baby. Someday you'll be a boring grown up, too."

We all took another nap, Alex waking up again to his alarm to get Philip ready for school.

"Oh, yeah, not happening, not even a little bit." He groaned and called the school to let them know that Philip wouldn't be there.

"How you feeling?" I asked him.

"Like hell. You?"

"Been better, I'm alright. I'm making food for us later."

"You don't have to, we can just order in, make Sonny our errand boy."

"Nah, I want to, home cooked food makes everything better."

"Except the way my pants fit," he chuckled.

We snoozed until the morning sun crept in through the blinds. Once Philip woke up Alex shooed us out of the bedroom, claiming that it was too cold to go outside on the fire escape and smoke, he cracked the window and I took Philip into the living room, wrapping him up in his now clean - for the second time - and dry comforter on the couch, setting him up with Duck Tales.

"What are you doing?" He asked me.

"Starting on food." I put chicken in a pot with onions and oil to get some colour on the outside, leaning against the counter for support, feeling like shit.

"What are you making? My tummy hurts too much to be hungry."

"That's okay, little man. I'm making chicken and dumplin's."

"What's that?"

Alex joined Philip on the couch, "it's kind of like the chicken soup that abuela used to make, but it's got noodle things instead of plantains. Is that a good description, John?"

I shrugged, "yeah, noodle-y, biscuit-y, yeah."

"That soup was spicy, spicy would hurt my tummy." Philip whined.

"Mine's not, don't worry bud."

I added stock to the pot along with seasonings and put a lid on it to simmer and went to the living room to sit with my boys while it simmered.

"Did your mama teach you how to cook?" Philip asked.

I wrapped my arm around Alex and he snuggled against me, smelling of fresh smoke.

"Yup."

"I don't get to learn how to cook since I don't have a mama… 'cause sometimes mamas have babies but they aren't ready to be mamas."

I decided not to get into that topic, staying in safer waters, "y'know, I could teach you how to cook if you wanted."

"Maybe when I feel a little better?"

"Sounds good."

"Then I can make tasty dinner for my daddy and for you, too, John." He stretched out between Alex and I.

The chilly apartment filled with the smell of cooking food and comforting spices, transporting me to the best parts of my childhood.

I let it cook for most of the day while we watched movies, getting up once we all felt hungry enough that eating didn't seem out of the question. I dropped dumplings into the thick soup and let them cook, dishing some out for the three of us.

Alex sighed at the comforting meal, eating a dumpling happily. Philip poked nervously at his bowl while I tucked in, it tasted like home.

"This is what people eat where you come from?" Philip looked hesitant.

"In the south, yeah, I grew up eating food like this."

"Hmm…" He cautiously ate a piece of chicken.

"Bro, you've eaten mondongo with abuela." Alex rolled his eyes.

"Isn't that…" I started, only to be cut off by Alex, he waved me off and pressed two fingers to his lips, taking a deep breath through his nose.

"Yup… I can't right now." He swallowed hard and took a drink of his coffee.

"I didn't like it, what is it again, daddy? It's something icky right?"

"Nope, we're not, nope, eat, Pip." He turned up the volume on the cartoons.

Philip finally conceded and ate half of his bowl. Alex sighed contentedly once he'd reached the bottom of his bowl and set it on the table next to the couch before snuggling against my chest. I closed my eyes against my headache and rested my forehead against the crown of his head. The oils of his dirty hair held his scent and comforted me as I continued to feel like death warmed over. Philip climbed into Alex's lap, I felt Alex fidget with his boy's hair.

Once Philip fell asleep, Alex - still looking tired and spent - slid out from between me and Philip and carried his son to bed. I carried the comforter and helped Alex tuck him in.

"I need a shower." Alex decided.

"Up for company?" I sniffed.

Alex wrapped his arms around me, swaying just slightly and nodded into my neck. I followed him into the bathroom and stripped while he set the water, snorting and trying to clear the junk in my head. I stood with my back to the stream and Alex pressed himself against me, mostly for warmth and partly to take some of his weight, despite my own fatigue I held him up and let the water run over us. I hummed to him something that I hoped was soothing. He started to take on the appearance of a drowned rat and I leaned over to pump some of his shampoo into my hands and worked it through his hair. He nuzzled against me closer and pressed little kisses to my collarbone.

I shifted us to rinse out his hair and massaged conditioner into it, noticing his breathing slow. I stood us there under the stream until goosebumps rose over his tan skin.

"Sugar," I whispered in his ear, kissing his temple.

He blinked a few times, "I fell asleep, huh?"

"Yeah, it's alright, I've got you."

He coughed and made quick work of washing down his body.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"Go on to bed, I'll be there in just a minute."

Alex nodded and stepped out of the shower, I was almost certain I could hear his teeth clattering over the sound of the shower as I washed my own hair and body.

When I joined him in the bedroom I found him in a hoodie and thick sweatpants under the electric blanket and two other quilts, shivering in fetal position. I cuddled myself around him and rubbed his back.

"My poor, little snake." I soothed him.

He nodded sadly against my neck, fingers gripping my arms tightly, vibrating with his shivers.