Broken- And Fixed Again- (A Jamilton Fanfic)

Chapter 15: The Confession

//TW: swearing, PTSD, some ideation of self-harm\\

Thomas

"Are they seriously playing Minecraft?"

"Leave 'em alone, it's kinda cute."

Aaron shook his head and slumped down on the couch next to me, drawing his legs to his chest as we watched Alexander, John, Lafayette, and Hercules fight and bicker over a video game. And for whatever stupid reason, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Alexander, who was grinning as if the rest of the world couldn't see him. I smiled to myself as I watched them, finding a soft-spoken delight in the perfect contrast to the night before. My hands clenched just at the memory of his screaming echoing through the room, so pained and despairing. It had sounded like that of a pained, dying animal, trying to hold onto the cracking remains of life. Its mere memory caressed my spine with its cold hand, leaving shivers in its wake.

Alexander deserved nothing short of all the happiness in the world, and I'd never stop until I made sure he had it.

"Everything alright?" Aaron asked, as if somehow sensing my thoughts and shift in mood. Today wasn't bad. Not as bad as some days are. But it wasn't good either, leaving me in that forever perplexing state of being upset without any real reason to be upset. It was like standing at a crossroads, staring at each choice laid before me but unable to comprehend where the paths ultimately led.

"Yeah, for the most part," I returned after a moment or two. I looked over to him, and his knowing, teasing smirk sent a prickle of unease rocketing through my chest. That was the kind of smile he reserved specifically for tormenting me, especially when he knew something I didn't. "What?"

Aaron shook his head, amused by whatever he had found in the few short seconds he had looked right through me. "Oh, nothing."

"What is it?" I pressed. "You can't not tell me."

"It's nothing, I swear," Aaron said, easing backwards. "I just haven't seen you look at anybody like that in a while."

"What do you mean?" I said dumbly, because there was nothing else to say. The smile dropped from my face as the words sunk in, and although I didn't understand them, I hated everything they could possibly imply. Something tight wrapped its grip around my lungs, a pressure slowly building inside of me that couldn't be undone until it eventually exploded, destroying everything in its path.

"Don't worry about it, Thomas. You'll understand when you're older."

"Okay, whatever," I responded, shaking my head. "Because you're so much older and wiser than me."

"And you need someone older and wiser telling you what to do," Aaron half-said, half-sang.

I rolled my eyes. "You know, not everything's an excuse to quote a musical."

"Thomas, if a time ever comes where I don't quote a musical, I'll be six feet under the ground below."

Sensing that there would be no way I could win this argument without losing a piece of my sanity, I rolled my eyes and dropped my gaze to the couch. Warmth rushed into my face, though I couldn't explain why or where it stemmed from.

"How's everything going, by the way? James is leaving you alone, right?"

I shrugged, not exactly wanting to elaborate in fear it would only make matters worse. I didn't have to explain to him just what consumed my thoughts whenever it got the chance. I didn't have to explain the desires that creeped up into my hands, craving the relief that pain brought just to make myself feel like I was in control of something. In truth, I could have talked for hours about every last monster preaching their ideals of destruction and hatred in the back of my mind like gospel, but what good would it do in the end?