Hamilsquad Oneshots

Belong

The bedroom was freezing, so you slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake Alex or John up. Laf and Herc both snored obnoxiously loud and were exiled to the guest room that you had to sneak past on your way to the living room. All you wanted was to sit in front of the fireplace, but Laf had insisted on an older home where everything squeaked because he needed the "character." You were never able to sleep through the boys coming home later from work or midnight snacks or other late night activities. It was a beautiful house, Laf refused anything else, but it had taken you much trial and error to figure out exactly how to move around the house without waking anyone up.

Once you got downstairs, you fumbled around looking for a lighter. You'd been shaking all day and now you couldn't stop shivering, even with the two sweatshirts you were wearing. It was excessive, sure, but nothing had warmed you up at all, which is why you were trying a fire. You could feel the cold of the floor through your thick, fuzzy socks that Herc had knit for you a while ago and you started sorting through things as quickly as you could without making too much noise to get to the carpet. After a few more minutes of digging, you finally found a lighter in the junk draw, so named because whenever you guys were too tired to clean, which was almost always, the things on the kitchen counters were just shoved into that drawer.

When you started back to the living room, your head started getting fuzzy and you couldn't quite get your eyes to focus. It wasn't a huge deal, you were just going to sit down. It would pass eventually. This happened a lot lately and you didn't want to start making a big deal out of it now. But when you moved towards the couch, you couldn't keep yourself up anymore. Before you knew it, you were falling to the floor. Your head hit the edge of the coffee table and then the floor with a thud. The last thing you heard was someone running down the stairs.

Alex had moved you to the couch while you were out. When you woke up, your head was resting in his lap. He was talking quickly with Gilbert in French, which you had always hated. They always seemed so suspicious or liked they were fighting. It was the same when Alex and John had conversations in Spanish. You and Herc spent a lot of time exchanging exasperated looks.

"Babe," you mumbled after a minute. "Shut up."

"Hey!" Alex said with a sigh of relief.

"Mm. What were you talking about?" you tried to sit up, just to be pushed back down.

"You hit your head. You're not getting up," Alex scolded. "And we weren't talking about anything."

"You, Alexander Hamilton, weren't talking about anything? Do you hear how fake you sound right now?" you rose a brow.

Gilbert moved your legs and sat on the couch. He put your legs over his, rubbing them a little. "How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm fine," you shrugged. "I'm kinda thirsty."

"Freckles!" Alex yelled before you could even finish talking. He didn't notice you wince at the volume of his voice.

"Yeah?" came John's reply from the kitchen, just as loud as Alex.

"Can you get water and something for (Y/N) to eat? Please," Alex called back. Thankful there wasn't a reply. You closed your eyes again and listened to John slam cabinets as he rummaged through the kitchen. No one else in the house knew how to be quiet, apparently. You had only just registered that you had a splitting headache.

"Ibuprofen, please," you whimpered. Alex opened his mouth to yell for John again, but you rushed to cut him off when you heard him take the breath. "I love you, but if you yell again, I'm going to have to kill you. Wait until he gets in here or something. It's okay."

You could could just feel him roll his eyes. The only reason you let it go was because it hurt to do anything. Just as you thought you were going to get a little bit of quiet, Alex and Gilbert started talking in rapid French again. You moaned softly and tried to cover your eyes with your arm, but really just elbowed Alex in the stomach. The fucker didn't even wince. What an asshole.