Jamilton OneShots

Suicide

I based this off a suggestion by @SapphireThePansexual. Prepare for the angsty stuff. Note: I changed a few things, please don't hate me. I don't like writing angst very much and I'm kinda bad at it. :/

Warnings: Read the frickin' title, guys

Alex sobbed, gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared out at the skyline of New York from the top of his apartment building. Useless freak. Mistake. Worthless. The voices started taunting. Alex squeezed his eyes closed tighter. His arms shook. He swung one leg over the railing, then the other. Tears were streaming down his face as he glanced at the city below. 

"Hey, wait!" a voice called out. Alex turned, suprised. A man was walking quickly over to where he was. "Please go away." Alex said nervously, edging away. "Why are you doing this?" the man asked him gently. Alex shook his head. "I need to. I don't have a choice." he said, turning his head away. A shock went through his body when he felt someone put a hand over his own. "You don't have to. You always have a choice." the man said, keeping Alex's hand from letting go. Alex stared at him. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had talked to him like that. 

The man offered him his other hand, which Alex took, and he helped him back over the railing. Once his feet were on steady ground again, Alex's knees gave out, and he crumpled t the ground crying. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and Alex leaned into the embrace. "I-I can't believe I almost did that." he sobbed. "Shhhhhh, it's alright. You're safe now." 

(Alex learned that the man's name was Thomas. They eventually started dating, and were pretty happy. Fast forward about a year later. Sorry guys I didn't know how to write the next few months and stuff.)

"Well, what do you expect? You're never around anymore, just leaving me by myself!" Alex shouted. Thomas rolled his eyes. "So your rational solution is to try and poison yourself? Do you hate me so much that you need to kill yourself just to leave me?" he scoffed. "You promised that you'd always be there for me!" Alex said. Thomas reached into his pocket, drawing out a ring box. "Yeah. I did. And I thought I have been. And working more so I can afford this, just so you can accuse me of non commitment?" he laughed bitterly, tossing the box at Alex's feet and stomping outside. "I hope your happy." he said, slamming the door.  Thomas stopped by the door, listening to the sobs that floated through the wood. His hand lingered by the doorknob, and he had to use all the self control he had not to rush inside and take him in his arms. He inhaled deeply, and left. 

About a week later, Thomas got a call. "Are you Thomas Jefferson?" a woman's voice asked. "Yeah. Who's this? What happened?" he said. "You were listed as an emergency contact for Alexander Hamilton. I'm sorry to say that he has committed suicide." the lady said apologetically. Thomas's hand moved to his mouth, stifling the sobs that rose from his throat. "Where?" he choked out. He drove over to the apartment. He hadn't been there in years, and hesitated when he reached the door. His hand wavered, before he harshly twisted the doorknob, and swinging the door open. He burst in, and the authorities shot him a look full of pity. The same woman who had called him earlier shot him a sympathetic smile. "There was just this note left for you," she said softly, handing him a folded up square of paper. His breath hitched when he saw the ring from all those years ago resting inside. Underneath, in Alex's messy handwriting was one sentence.  

Thank you for being the one good choice I ever made.