Broken- And Fixed Again- (A Jamilton Fanfic)

Chapter 7: Stardust

//TW: self-harm, panic attacks, swearing, and far too much John Mulaney\\

Thomas

The air was fresh and clean, the crisp breeze gently ruffling through my hair as we walked through the busy streets of the crowded town. It had been such a long time since I had last walked for the sake of doing so, no clear destination in mind with all the time left in the world. It was refreshing in ways I couldn't describe, like watching the world completely remake itself. I couldn't recall the last time I felt as free as I did then, my chin lifted up to the chilling sky, breathing in the city.

Alexander took my hand and gently squeezed it, making my insides flutter a little bit. People didn't usually touch me the way he touched me. I never had that careless, unplanned brush of a hand against mine, simply to remind me that I was here, standing on the firm ground, and not plummeting thousands of feet through the air to land on merciless, hard concrete.

"Doing okay?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, taken a little by surprise. Again, it was not a question I was used to, but it wasn't one I minded.

Alexander laughed lightly, nudging me softly with his elbow. "Are you alright? You look better, but I just wanted to make sure."

I nodded, taking my hand away from him and stuffing it into the pockets of my sweater, an old habitual movement that gave me some sense of stability. Keep to myself. Don't bother anybody else. "Yeah. I guess I just needed fresh air. Again, I'm sorry for, you know, freaking out or whatever."

"Thomas..." he began, exasperated. But he caught himself before anything else escaped his tongue, and his posture relaxed. "I'm just glad you're okay. Really." He spoke quietly, as though it was a secret he wanted to keep from the others who had recently joined him, John, and I.

I opened my mouth to thank him. For everything. Because where I was ashamed and embarrassed and horribly disappointed by the way I had acted earlier, by the way I had lost myself to that blind frenzy of panic, Alexander was patient. He was calm. And he continued to smile at me, a possibility I never would have believed just a week ago. It had always seemed like my emotions were the only thing that belonged to me, and I could never dare show them to anybody else.

But before I could say anything, John, from the head of the group, shouted over the noise of the city and pulled Alexander away. "Hey! Alex! Hercules needs your opinion on something stupid but he doesn't actually want to ask you!"

"John, please," responded Hercules with uncontainable amounts of annoyance, swatting him over the head. John laughed and ducked away to hide behind an Aaron who looked less than pleased. John glanced back over at us. Or rather, Alexander.

"Oh, umm," Alexander said, glancing up at me as though waiting for me. The frown that creased his face begged me to say something, although I had no idea why.

"Go ahead," I returned, the automatic smile too natural to be healthy. "It's fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. He's your friend."

"You're my friend."

"Alexander."

"You don't mind?"

I shrugged. "Who cares what I think?"

And before Alexander could say anything else, John screamed his name one more time, and that was the end of it. He flashed me a brief, apologetic look, and wormed his way past Maria and Eliza in front of us, who were chatting about nothing important. And he disappeared, leaving me empty. Leaving me alone.