Historical Appearance

Snow Globe AU

Angst and Horror

Alex, Thomas

"But, Mother. You know the Jefferson's hate us. They look down their crooked noses at us like we are common gutter rats. It doesn't help that we basically are," Alexander complained, trying and failing to knot his ragged tie around his collared shirt.

The duo was dressed in their Sunday best, scuffed shoes, patched tops and bottoms, Alex's red hair tied into a green ribbon that had been his father's, and his mother's hair pinned back in her finest piece of jewelry outside of her wedding ring – a faux silver and pearl comb. They tried to move around the single cramped bedroom to prepare for the party they had been invited to. It had been strange, of course. When Mrs. Jefferson had invited her poor neighbors to her family's mansion for a dinner party. Never before had Alexander nor Rachel been anywhere near the Jefferson mansion without being chased off it. And yet, Rachel had found it rude to deny the invitation. Her son, Alexander, had begged to differ.

But alas, the duo found themselves on the bright red bricks before the pristine white door, Alex behind his mother. Rachel grasped the bronze knocker, a ring between the sharp teeth of a lion, and tapped it against the door. It seemed to be ineffective, but before Alex could suggest they just leave, nobody was home, Jefferson's mother came to the door.

She was monstrous. Tall and skinny with wrinkles marring her face and hands. Her shadow seemed to fill the doorway without the help of her husband who stood behind her. Her face broke into a smile that failed to reach her cool eyes.

"Rachel, Alexander. Do come in," she greeted, turning to leave the doorway open.

"Good afternoon, Jane. Thank you for having us," Rachel said, tilting her chin up to meet her hostess's eyes. Alexander's mother was significantly shorter than any of the Jefferson family, resulting in Alex being shorter than them as well. Sure, he was average height for his age, but the Jefferson's exceeded expectation even in the context of height.

"I think Mrs. Jefferson will do, hm?"

Alexander's eyes flashed, but his mother just smiled kindly and nodded. Alex had failed to adopt his mother's unrelenting kindness in his traits. He had more of his "no good" father in him. Fire, passion. Of course, kindness, but only when warranted.

The party was already flourishing as the duo walked into the main room. Alexander quickly spotted Thomas speaking with some of his friends, all high-class boys with views most likely the opposite of Alex's own. He stayed close to his mother despite the way she tried to get him to venture. Nonetheless, the two stayed quietly in the corner.

As the night drew on, the party seemed to pick up. More people arrived with more alcohol, and more obscene conversation filled the air, sending Alex and Rachel to hide away in a spare bedroom, trying to escape the too loud music.

Inside the bedroom was a simple twin bed with a white comforter and silk sheets. Sheen curtains hung from ceiling to floor, but were pulled back to reveal the dark night, making the tiny room seem slightly bigger. It was a shockingly small room for such a mansion as the Jefferson household. However, even stranger than the size of the room was the thousands of snow globes that sat on a bookshelf and above the fireplace. Every globe focused on one miniscule figurine, carefully situated in different scenes. In one, a blonde-haired boy was reading next to an undecorated Christmas tree. In another, a large brunette girl had a lollipop inside her mouth and had a red balloon in her hand. Alexander had never seen snow globes that didn't focus around a destination. He had also never seen the miniature people in a snow globe done so beautifully.

Alex and Rachel were so entranced with the globes that they didn't hear the bedroom door open. It wasn't until Mrs. Jefferson's screech resonated through the small space that the duo looked up.

"What are you doing in here? I invite you into my home, and you trespass into my private rooms! Leave! Immediately," she shrieked. Rachel quickly apologized, before grabbing Alex's hand and leading him from the room and out the front door. Rachel was in such a rush to leave that she didn't see Mrs. Jefferson gently grip Alexander's back side, before ushering him out. The teenager couldn't do anything but shoot her an affronted look, color tinting his cheeks and ears.

Rachel forgot about the party a few months later, preferring to go on with her mundane life than think back to the uncomfortable encounters. Alexander, however, could not get the snow globes out of his head. And more than the snow globes, his run-in with Mrs. Jefferson still left him feeling slightly dirty. Then, they got sick.

Alexander got ill first. He lay in bed for days, sweat beading his entire body, coughs wracking his entire body. The heat was so intense that hallucinations began to infiltrate his mind. He saw his father reaching out to his mother, an evil scowl on his face. Alex saw his brother, reaching out to bring him into a hug. Alex's brother was long dead. The side of the bed was damp with sick as Alex was too weak to reach his head far enough over the bed before he threw up; stomach bile and the few crackers he had managed to stomach that morning. The illness was easily cured with the correct antibiotics, but the doctor was too expensive, and refused to come all the way out to the Hamilton's run-down, dingy "home."

Soon enough, Alexander's germs infiltrated his mother, and both mother and son were confined to the sick filled bed, both too weak to stand or do much more than sleep. Rachel's arms encircled Alexander's shivering form as she kissed a trembling kiss to his brow. Alexander's eyes were clenched shut and his teeth gritted against the pain in his gut. Rachel hushed him softly as he whimpered.

"My Alexander. You are so brave," she whispered. "You are going to do great things one day. Just hang on a little longer." A few tears leaked down her cheeks as she kissed another kiss to her child's head. "I love you, Alejandro." She died later that evening.

A few days after his mother's passing, Alexander recovered. His fever broke and he awoke to cold, waxy arms encircling him. When he rubbed the grime away from his eyes for the first time in weeks, he was greeted with the still form of his mother. He screamed.

The authorities found Alexander alone in his house later that day; a neighbor had called saying she hadn't seen the duo leave the house in nearly a month and had heard the scream. They took Alex into custody, made sure he was healthy, and threw him into the system. Rachel was buried before Alex had gotten to say goodbye. He wasn't even sure where her body was.

After spending two weeks at a local orphanage, someone stepped forward to adopt Alexander. The orphanage was already overcrowded and didn't have enough funding to feed all the children sufficiently, so getting the teenager off their hands was such a blessing that they didn't even do a background check on the family. And it wasn't until the case worker drove onto Alexander's old street that he realized the hoe he would be getting dropped off at was his old neighbor's. The Jeffersons.

Alexander almost r effused to get out of the car, but after seeing the exhausted look on the caseworker's face, he clambered out. He was causing enough trouble already and didn't want to add to the burden. The three Jeffersons were waiting by the door for him. They waved off the caseworker who sent them a weary smile and backed out of the driveway. Alex was pretty sure there was more she was supposed to do to make sure Alex was safe, but again, he wouldn't want to bother her.

"Alexander! A pleasure to see you again," Mrs. Jefferson greeted, her spindly fingers reaching out to clasp Alex's face. He flinched away from her. Mrs. Jefferson frowned, but let Alex greet her husband and son. Mr. Jefferson merely grunted at the boy, but Thomas shook her hand firmly.

"Guess we gotta start to get along, huh?" Surprisingly, his smile seemed genuine, and Alex grinned back.

"Well," Mrs. Jefferson said, clapping her hands in a sharp manor. "We best get you settled in, Alexander." Said boy nodded slightly, following the family into the house. "We have a room all set up for you. We think you'll enjoy it." Something in her voice told Alex he definitely would not be enjoying it.

He was right. The room was smaller than the snow globe room. Dirt covered the floorboards and there was only room for a small bed and Alex's backpack to fit. The bed was basically the entire room. Alex looked back at the family, trying to hide his indignation. Mrs. Jefferson crooned, Mr. Jefferson looked bored, and Thomas had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Thank you," Alexander whispered. He had nothing to be thankful for at this point. The floor of the orphanage was better than this. Dealing with snotty, tired children was easier than this. Mrs. Jefferson squeaked her delight at Alex's response before pushing him inside and pushing everyone else, out.

"We'll call you for dinner. That is, if you can get out." Then, she closed the door and Alex heard the lock click behind her. At this point, Alex had no real care. He flopped on the bed dramatically and groaned. Just his luck. He was living with his former worst enemy and his probably sex-offending parents. He was just thrilled.

However, the thing getting Alex through it all was the fact that he would be eighteen in a few months. Then, he would be free. College probably wasn't an option, but at least he could start saving up enough for application fees. When he had been at school, his guidance counselor had said he had the potential for a full ride, knowing full well that Alex's family didn't have the means to pay for college themselves.

Alex must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing he knew someone was knocking softly on his door, and the moon was high in the sky. The Caribbean boy went to open the door, turning the handle only to feel it lock beneath his hands. Right.

"Hey, yeah. Sorry, I don't have the key, but I managed to get some food for the table for you," Thomas' voice came from the other side of the door. Alex was shocked. He had noticed a change in Thomas, but not that big of a change.

"I – thank you," Alex said, reaching his fingers under the door and feeling a piece of fluffy bread being placed there, as well as a few slabs of cheese. Alex had never been a cheese kind of guy, but it wasn't until he took his first bite of bread that he realized how hungry he was. Then, the pickiness toward the food was gone.

"I don't know how much of that I can do, but I'll try to help when I can." Then, Alex saw the light under the door shift, and heard Thomas walk away.

The next weeks continued much of the same way. Alexander knew he was probably putting Thomas in danger by relying on his services to get him food, but it was so much easier to do that than pick the lock on the doorknob, and nothing in Alex's life had ever been easy.

It wasn't until his second month of living at the Jefferson's house that he was allowed out of his room other than for a brief bathroom stop. The three Jeffersons had left the house, and the night before, Thomas had slipped the key to the lock beneath Alex's door with a note. Thomas had his phone with him on their little excursion and would ring the landline as soon as the Jeffersons were headed back so Alex would have enough time to return the key to the snow globe room and re-hide himself.

As soon as the Jefferson's car left the driveway, Alex was out of his room. He ran out of the room and through all the hallways, laughter bubbling in his chest. He hadn't laughed in a long time. His feet carried him up and down the hallways, his bare feet pounding on the carpet. The pictures rattled, but he didn't care. He was free! If only for a little while. After running around the halls, Alex raided the kitchen. He stole sleeves of crackers and fruit snacks, granola bars and bags of chips. But he was careful. He knew that if Mrs. Jefferson found out he had stolen her food it would not end well for him.

Finally, he thought back to his first visit of the Jefferson household. The snow globe room. It had only been about a year ago, so Alex assumed it wouldn't be gone. The orphan slipped through the hallways and around corners before arriving at the white room. The door was once again unlocked, and Alex slipped in, shutting the door behind him.

If possible, even more snow globes filled the room then what had been there a year ago. A newer looking globe held a petite teen with a red-tipped nose, more from illness than an outdoor chill. Alex ran his fingertips over the glass before stumbling back across the one of the blonde boy, his hair in a ponytail as he read. Faintly in the background, Alex heard the phone ringing urgently. However, it was drowned out by his intrigue of the snow globe. He picked up the glass ball, turning it in his hands and watching silver sparkles fall around the boy. The phone rang louder this time and snapped Alex out of his trance.

He quickly placed the snow globe back on the shelf, running out of the room. Unfortunately, the door slammed a little too hard, and Alex heard a crash. He froze. Thomas had said he would call as soon as they left. That should offer just enough time to fix whatever had just gone down.

However, Alexander was not prepared for the sight before him. Standing among the small shards of the snow globe, was the blonde-haired boy who had been reading within the confines only moments before. Alex stood with his mouth agape.

The boy was handsome, his hair silkier than it had appeared in the snow globe. His eyes were a gorgeous blue, and he stood confidently like a soldier. Then, the boy turned to face Alex and the boy fell a little harder.

"Thank you, for freeing me," the snow globe boy said, a gentle southern accent lacing his words. "My name is John Laurens." Alex was still frozen to his place like a streetlight. John looked at him a little longer, hand awkwardly held out to Alex. "And you are?"

"A-Alexander. Hamilton," he added as an afterthought. Alex quickly took John's hand. "Y-You just came out of the snow globe." John looked confused.

"Yes. Oh! You do not know, which means you still have time…" John trailed off, pacing the ground as if he hadn't just been sitting by a tree for a year. John's eyes suddenly snapped to Alex's. "You have to get out of here. You cannot trust Mrs. Jefferson. If she finds out you freed me – "

"Who knows what she'll do?" A familiar voice drawled behind them. So caught up in the moment were John and Alex that they hadn't heard the front door or the room door open. Mrs. Jefferson stood menacingly in the doorframe, her tall form towering over John and Alex. Thomas cowered behind his mother, fear marring his normally confident features.

"You should have told me you knew how to get out, Alexander," she cooed, reaching forward and caressing the red head's face. "If I had known, I could have added you to my collection earlier." Alex was frozen. "Thomas, be a dear and go fetch my tools. I need to add a new globe to my collection." It was the last thing Alex heard before there was a sharp pain in the back of his head, and everything went dark.

WC: 2750