I own absolutely nothing, everything here belongs to the one, the only, Lin-Manuel Miranda!

Alexander hurried along to the Cabinet meeting, hoping to get there early so as to not draw too much attention to himself. Of course, he knew that once he got into the whatever topic was chosen for this particular meeting all thoughts of remaining inconspicuous would fade, but it never hurt to try to keep your head down.

He slipped into the room, taking a seat off to the right side of the room, but as close to the doorway out as possible, a habit he'd picked up over the years.

As various people filed into the room, he fiddled with the hem of his coat - this one green.

Just fifteen minutes into the debate and Hamilton was already spitting fire.

"No, slaves are not- they're real human beings with feelings, you can't just-" Alexander broke off with a frustrated sigh, unable to find the right words.

"It's perfectly acceptable to have-" Jefferson was cut off by his opponent's scream of rage.

"No, it's not justified- you don't pay them- you don't treat them right," Alexander stopped himself, heart racing.

"Hamilton, it's quite normal-"

"No!" he screeched. Both people's faces were dark with rage, Hamilton's pale skin growing red and flushed.

"Hamilton," Jefferson snapped, but was interrupted once again.

"No, slaves are not okay to have! In the least give them acceptable bedding and food and medical care, wages, manageable work hours, days off for when they're sick-"

"I didn't realize you made it a hobby of yours to study the conditions of slaves," Jefferson drawled.

Hamilton left.

Just like that, up and left, green tailcoat swing around him as he turned out his heel and stalked out of the room, red in the face with hatred. Jefferson's eyebrows rose a fraction, surprised at the fact that Hamilton had left the room rather than launch himself at him.

Once Alexander was out of that room, out of sight of Jefferson, some of the tension in his shoulders left him. Once he got back to his office (which was currently quicker to get to than his small house) he slumped at his desk, head rolling back on the chair-back.

He raked his fingers through his long hair, resisting the urge to just tug at it until it was ripped from his head and scream, scream until his vocal cords ripped.

His hands dropped onto his lap and he sat there, looking at them for a long time. Soon though, his hand creeped up the underside of his shirt to his back, tracing the scars left there, proof of his past.

*Flashback*

"Faster, you need to work faster," Indow growled, bring his arm down hard, and with it, the whip. Alexander cried out, his small frame buckling under the weight with which it was brought down upon him, with the pain, with the exhaustion, and with the fury he felt.

He looked desperately out to the others, his equals, the other slaves, hoping against hope that one of them would snap and come to his rescue.

No one did. He'd expected that though. Keep your head down and you survive a little longer.

The whip was brought down three more times before he was finally - finally - allowed to crawl back to the shed. Everyone slept here, and it reeked of blood and sweat.

He wondered when they would next be allowed to eat. He knew that Indow was always unpredictable with the rations.

Maybe someday he could escape, find a better life. He could stop slavery, stop all this pain and suffering and death.

*End flashback*

Alexander ripped his hand back out, trembling a little from the unexpected memory. Those days would always haunt him. The scars on his back were a promise that he'd never be allowed to forget, to leave the past behind him.

That night Hamilton slept only fitfully, unable to catch more than a few minutes of sleep at a time. When he woke up, it felt as if he'd rubbed handfuls of sand into his eyes and wished he'd never laid down at all.

Why can't Jefferson just see what I'm trying to say here?

He got up out of his bed and dressed himself.

It should be illegal to have slaves.

He gave a half-hearted attempt to tame his hair a bit before going to the kitchen/dining room/sitting room.

No one should have to suffer through what I did.

He ate a quick breakfast of bread, butter and jam before heading out of the house to work once again.

'Keep your head down,' Alexander thought to himself as he entered the meeting just a few seconds late. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he sat down.

"Anyways, because we didn't get much done at yesterday's meeting, I've decided that we should continue it. I'd like the Cabinet to come to a decision about where America should stand on slavery," Washington decreed.

That cursed, ugly word.

"Jefferson, why don't you start," Washington continued.

"Slavery is a good thing, it helps the South prosper which gives the North the materials - particularly cotton - it needs to put paychecks in the pockets of the workers, which, in turn, allows all of America to grow," Thomas stated. Alexander clenched his fists, growing more and more peeved at every word that came out of Thomas fucking Jefferson's mouth.

"Slavery is not a good thing, it is, in fact, pure evil." Hamilton's words were so heavily laced with hatred and contempt that even Jefferson took a double take. "Every day those people are suffering from starvation, dehydration, and illness just because they're from a certain area of the world or their skin color is different.

"Whipped for- for not being fast enough on a job or for not making their masters' food quite right, or for breaking something - even if on accident." his breath was picking up again and he could feel himself going lightheaded from the adrenaline coursing through him.

"Even if those people do sustain America, slavery must go," It was only now that Hamilton realized that he'd started crying in fury and frustration.

He panicked and fled from the room, heart racing, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Nearly half an hour later, Thomas came into Hamilton's office, guessing correctly that that was where he'd escaped to.

All it took was six words to bring Hamilton's life crashing down around him.

"Are you speaking from personal experience?"

'He knows, he knows, he knows, he knows, I can't go back, I can't ever go back, I can't possibly go back.'

Hamilton's thoughts swirled around him, eyes widening in fear at Thomas' words.

'Keep your head down, that's all you had to do!'

"What do you mean?" Hamilton choked out. Dammit, he'd been going for an unconcerned tone of voice. Not terrified.

'They'll come back and drag me back to that hellhole-'

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it? Surely that couldn't've just been you overreacting to a debate?"

'I wouldn't survive a single year there, I'd die in the worst way possible-'

"I am passionate."

'Thomas just has to tell one person and I'll be back there-'

"No one can be that passionate."

'The word will spread, they'll beat me senseless-'

Hamilton was at a loss for words.

'I'm a runaway, they'll kill me-'

Jefferson's face when Hamilton didn't answer tore him apart.

'Even if I somehow survive, I'll get all the worst jobs, I'll be worked to the death-'

He broke down crying, unable to hold back. Somewhere along the way he heard himself sobbing, "please don't tell anyone, they'll kill me, they'll kill me."

Jefferson had the ultimate piece of information for blackmail, and Hamilton knew it. He'd do anything to keep word of this off the streets, away from everyone's ears.

"They'll kill me if they find out, they'll kill me, kill me," Hamilton repeated. He hiccuped, and he knew he was hyperventilating.

He grew light-headed and dizzy, still saying the same words over and over.

"They'll kill me if they know."

The first thing Hamilton realized was that he had no shirt on. The second was that he was on his back, his preferred sleeping position.

He pushed himself up with his arms, eyes flying open in panic.

Jefferson's face was the first thing he saw.

Thomas fucking Jefferson.

He twisted himself around so that his back faced away from Jefferson. Blind fear overcame him as he realized that Thomas would've had plenty of time to see the scars in the time that he was unconscious. He scrabbled for the blanket that was covering his legs, pulling it up over the exposed skin.

"I didn't realize how bad the discipline is," Thomas whispered, his eyes dropping from Hamilton's terrified face.

"I was just told that their bad behavior was being taken care of, but I didn't know that it was that bad," Jefferson continued quietly. "I didn't think that they were so cruel."

"Please don't tell anyone," Hamilton said, whispering in tones even quieter than Jefferson's. "They'll kill me if they know I escaped."

He mouthed the last sentence rather than say it aloud.

Hamilton was clutching the blanket so tightly that his knuckles turned white, unable to take in a word Jefferson was saying.

"I won't."

Hamilton didn't know what he should feel. He was more terrified than relieved. Not hearing what Thomas had been saying previously, he thought that he would hold that over him, blackmailing him with his past.

Should've kept your fucking head down.

"They'd kill me if they knew I escaped," Alexander mouthed again, despair welling up inside him.

"I know," Thomas whispered, head bowed down.

"When I told you what I knew, how I'd guessed- that, I thought you'd act surprised, curious as to how I knew - how I'd found out, and we could joke about it. I didn't know how bad it was. I didn't know it'd been so bad for you," Thomas said.

"I had it better than the others," Alexander said, surprising even himself at his words. "I'd been born into it - my mother had been a slave before me - and I was taught to keep my head down, to stay quiet, to follow orders and say thank you when they gave us our portions, even if they were small, to be perfect. The only times I ever got punished was when I dropped a plate or bowl, or when I wasn't fast enough." Now that he'd started, it came spilling out, as if keeping it hidden for so long had made it harder to make it remain secret.

"The others, especially the new ones, were headstrong and thought they could run away. They were nearly always caught, and were beaten so badly. Once I nearly ran out and stopped him, but I never did. I was too cowardly.

"When I ran, I nearly died so many times. They sent hunting dogs after me. If they'd've caught me I'd surely have a mangled limb, for I once saw their snapping jaws and sharp teeth from the top of a pine tree.

"I had to move only at night, to try to stay awake throughout the day so I wouldn't be caught. I couldn't leave marks of my presence. I remember always being so very hungry.

"Then I finally made it to the North, where slavery isn't as popular, where I could make a name for myself. Those first few years I was terrified that they'd find me, that I'd be forced to go back. I'd always wake up screaming, much to the distaste of the person I'd been roommates with. I was so scared that my escaping had just been a dream, that'd I'd wake up back there.

"Even now, sometimes I worry about them suddenly remembering that they'd had someone logged under the name of 'Alexander,' and that they're come and drag me back there."

Thomas sat in silence for the duration of Alex's terrible past, resentment for whomever had scarred him this badly growing with every passing word.

"They'll never get you now," Jefferson whispered. He felt that he should hold Alexander close to him, to sooth him with comforting words, but kept his hands to himself. "If they come I'll protect you from them, I'll keep you safe. You're never going back there again."

Hamilton slumped down into the too-soft pillows, eyes drooping shut in exhaustion.

They ripped his shirt off, clasping chains to his ankles and wrists so he couldn't move, so he couldn't run, so he couldn't escape again. They raised the whip and brought it down again and again, long after Alexander's cries turned hoarse, long after he'd fallen to the ground. There was no escaping the torment, the pain, the suffering. If only death could hurry up, he'd be satisfied.

But he could only wish for something as sweet as death, for he was soon jerked upright and thrown into the shed again, clothed in torn, thin rags. They laughed at how he fell limply to the ground as soon as he hit it, laughed at how he thought he could escape them. A few more lashes and they left, a lock turning. Alexander hadn't the strength to get up, to even attempt to escape, and lay on the floor, shivering and back aflame.

"Shhh, it's alright, you're ok," a voice crooned.

Alex shot upright, heart pounding, tears streaking his face. He jerked his head to the side and saw Jefferson, an expression of the utmost care and concern gracing his face.

"They can't get you anymore," Thomas assured Alexander, holding him close, earlier restraints of doing so long gone.

They stayed together like that until Alexander had calmed down enough to fall back asleep. Jefferson sent a messenger to Washington telling him that they'd be absent for a while and returned to his bed in the hallway, where he'd lain Alex that night he'd started hyperventilating.

He crawled in beside Alexander, holding him close, praying that he wouldn't have another nightmare.

When Alex next awoke, he was still curled up in Thomas' arms, a warm haven surrounding him. The blankets were soft and silky and Thomas' breathing was smooth and steady. He'd fallen asleep at some point in time, tired to the bone after a fitful night of occasionally dozing off in the hard chair.

Alexander shifted so that he was closer to Thomas and the warmth he radiated and fell into a dreamless sleep once more.

The two soon grew used to sleeping in each other's warm embrace. It wasn't anything sexual, Alexander simply slept better when in Thomas' arms.

Sometimes Alex would panic for a moment, worry that Thomas was just baiting him, waiting for the perfect opportunity to blackmail him until he remembered the devotion and determination with which Thomas had spoken when he'd declared that he would protect Alex from them.

Then the tightness in his chest would loosen and breathing would become easy again, and he could rest easy once more.

Congress meetings became easier for everyone now that the two were friends and would no longer scream at each other. When they disagreed they'd talk it out in a civil manner.

Just a week into this, Washington called them both into his office.

"I've noticed a definite change in both of your behaviors," he said.

"Would you prefer us go back to the way it was before?" Thomas quired. Alex's heart skipped a beat at that. Could he be implying that he was a burden?

"Oh, no, you work much better now, I was simply wondering why."

Alex forced himself to keep looking forwards, to not cast a pleading look Thomas' way to not tell him about it. He had to trust that his new friend wouldn't betray him like this.

"It matters not why, but rather that we have improved greatly upon past performances," Thomas said carefully. Alex had to admit that it was cute how much more complicated his speech became when he wanted to phrase it just so.

"Well, either way, keep up the good work," Washington said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You may go back to your work."

"Thank you sir," Thomas and Alex chorused before leaving the room.

No sooner had they gotten ten steps, Alex burst out, "thank you."

"For what?" Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side.

"For not telling him about, you know."

"I couldn't tell him that, that's for you to decide to share," Thomas said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Sometimes I can't help but remember that the Thomas from before wouldn't have hesitated to tell the world about this, about how he would've seen it as just another move in that huge game of chess we used to be tangled in," Alex whispered.

"Alex," Thomas said, striding in front of him and placing his hands on Alex's shoulders, "I would never betray you like that, not now that I know how bad it is."

Over the next few months, Alex and Thomas' friendship grew stronger, and it was no longer out of concern that Thomas kept by Alexander's side. It was because he truly enjoyed the other man's presence. He liked the witty banter, his dry sense of humor.

It wasn't long after that that their relationship progressed past just friendship, and soon they were both head-over-heels for the other, neither of them brave enough to confess his feelings to the other.

Alexander admired Thomas in glances shot his way and vise-versa. The highlight of their day was the end, when they would get to hold each other in Thomas' ridiculously placed bed. Alex didn't admit that he no longer needed to be embraced to keep the nightmares at bay.

And of course, it was only a matter of time before Thomas dragged Alex into the market in search of more clothes for him.

"I seriously don't need any more than I already have," Alex muttered, glancing around him at the bustling road.

"Maybe so, but you need more variety, and there is no way I'm going to allow you to go on any longer without," Thomas said, winking.

Alexander walked out of the shop with three new outfits, courtesy of Thomas. If Alex had just not looked left, they could've had the perfect rest of the day off.

He stopped dead in his tracks, clutching the two parcels he'd told Thomas he'd carry.

The whip rose up and cracked down, five times. Who knows how long it'd been going on before Alex had seen. His chest tightened as the crowd swarmed around him, hurrying to get where they had to be.

It took Jefferson but three beats to realize what had happened. Less than one to be at Alex's side, comforting him.

"It's ok, you're safe now," he murmured to Alex, slipping his arm around his waist and squeezing reassuringly. "They can't get you."

Only a couple people spared the two friends glances before hurrying along their way.

"D'you think you can walk home with me or should I get someone to pick us up?" Thomas murmured in that same tone.

Alex slowly nodded, wanting nothing more than to get home. He didn't spare a second thought for the fact that he'd come to think of Thomas' house as his home.

Finally the lashes stopped and the man bearing the whip left the scene.

'Did he see me? He couldn't've seen me, he's can't possibly be coming to get me, surely he's not coming to punish me-'

Alex's thoughts spiraled out of out of control, even as Thomas led him home. At some point in time, Thomas had taken the parcels from Alex's hands and placed them on the couch as they went by it, not sparing them a second glance.

Alex slumped onto their bed, Thomas pulling him close.

"Hey baby, it's ok, they're not going to get you," he crooned. "You're the last thing on their mind."

"He just kept going and going," Alex whispered. "He wouldn't stop the lashes. I counted five before I could stop myself. You never count the lashes they dish out, that's one of the first rules you learn. It hurts less that way."

Thomas stroked Alex's hair, still holding him close, murmuring comforting things into his ear.

"When he stopped I was so relieved, but then he disappeared. I thought he was coming for me next," Alex breathed, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"They'll never hurt you, I promise," Thomas said, still stroking Alex's hair.

"I didn't want them to get me again," Alex sobbed. "That- that first night, I dreamt that they found me, that they beat me senseless. They were laughing at how I thought I could escape them forever, and I thought it was real, I thought they'd gotten me again, I thought I was going to die in that shed."

"It's ok, they'll never get you, you're safe," Thomas repeated. "You'll never be hurt again as long as I'm alive."

Thomas kissed Alex's tearstained cheek as if that was the wax sealing for the promise. Alex leaned into Thomas' touch, closing his eyes in relish.

"I was so close to being caught before, I could see the dogs snapping their jaws, searching for my scent," Alex whispered. "They thought the dogs had found a squirrel when they started clawing at the tree I was in. I remember clinging to the trunk, so very close to breaking down, the pine sap sticking to my hands, my face, my clothes. I was so close to being caught.

"I was so very close to being caught and beaten senseless, it terrified me out of my wits. As they started walking away I couldn't stop the whimper that escaped me and they looked right at where I was clutching the trunk. Then they turned and left.

"I was so so close."

"Shhh, it's ok Alex, you're safe, they're never going to get to you again, ever." Thomas planted another kiss on Alex's cheek, continuing to stay by Alex's side all through the night, holding him close.

And right as Alex was drifting off to sleep, Thomas breathed, ever so softly,

I love you, Alex.

And he was convinced that he heard Alexander murmur them back.