To Be or Not to Be | hamilton

eight : alexander

{tw: drug/sex/rape mention}

He didn't last long without drugs, as things turned out.

It had been two months since Thomas told Alexander about John's suicide attempt. John was still in a coma. True to his word, Alexander hadn't bought a single drug from Thomas, despite the threats.

Miss Maria Reynolds was now his official friend with benefits- and the benefits didn't stop with sex. She was also his drug dealer.

He saw her once a week, and Alexander had never been happier.

Burr, of course, tried to knock some sense into him. But what good was that- Alexander was hopelessly addicted to some of the two most destructive things.

Aaron was watching his best friend get destroyed, and it was destroying him as well.

}{

"To be or not to be," Alexander yelled aloud the following day to the dying John Laurens, "that is-"

"Ironic."

Alexander looked up. "Who are you?"

"His father. And you are?"

"The only one who cares about John."

John's father seemed to radiate darkness. He was dressed in a shabby black winter coat, with worn-down cargo pants and a tacky, used pair of brown shoes. Alexander wrinkled his nose- you could always tell a person's life story by his shoes, and that story proved true. He was a sorry, hopeless, horribly ugly case. His beard was untrimmed, his hair greasy, and he stared a demeaning stare.

But Alexander wouldn't back down. This man had hurt John. "Everybody here knows what you have done to John. Careful, or I'll have you removed." He crossed over to John's IV drip. "They know I wouldn't harm John." He gave the drip a small tug. "But you?" Alexander grinned. "Not so much."

John's father crossed the room and grabbed Alexander by the wrist, prying him off of the drip with a snapping sound that Alexander knew was a broken bone. He pinned the younger boy's thin frame against the wall with his arm at Alexander's windpipe, and Alexander found it hard to breathe. "They caught that on the tapes."

"This... too..." he managed to gasp out.

The elder snarled. "I could kill you."

"Do it," he choked.

"No. Because I need something from you.

"You were right when you said they knew I hurt John. They're filing a charge against me. For domestic physical and emotional abuse as well as being an unfit parent. I need defence. I need witnesses. I told them you were one. Expect a subpoena. At my trial, you better speak in my favour. Or I will kill you. I have some... connections I can use to blackmail you. Want to hear them?" Without waiting for a response, he opened his eyes wide as if surprised and began to talk. "Thomas Jefferson told me everything! You raped your girlfriend, you sell drugs, and you illegally locked him and his friend in your closet until they finished your course work?! Unbelievable!"

Alexander's eyes widened. He had no doubt this man would accuse of him of such at the case, but... could he defend him?! Never.

He released Alexander, and he, weak and our of breath, fell to the ground and was too weak to get back up. "Make the right decision, Alexander. It truly isn't that hard."

Aaron found him half an hour later, still on the ground, a bruise blossoming on his neck. His Shakespeare book was gone.