To the Four of Us (Part Twenty Four)
premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things. words: 2,276 warnings: death mention, swearing, i think that’s it all chapters: x tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @angelica-peggy-eliza @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @but-if-you-had-to-choose @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @5p00kygh05t @panda-powers @lafeyettegunsandships @schokoobananaa @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @aphboi @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @aham-threw-his-shot-away @hesitantcat @nonstopspook @hamrevolution @writethewayout @alexander-did-you-know @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @sun-tree @angelizaandpeggy @isis278 @idk-destiel @engulfedinstars @hamiltrashuniverse @ahrupe @just-me-an-asshole @readfizz @skeletonmelodies @gum-and-chips
a/n: something a lil kinder for all ur patience <3
“I don’t think I can go through this again.”
Have you ever spoken words that you didn’t realize you were thinking until they tumbled out of your mouth? Have you ever shocked yourself with the opinion of your subconscious? Have you ever said something that made you want to cry because how could you say that? Why would you think that? Is it true?
And you genuinely don’t know.
Alexander didn’t mean to say it. He didn’t want to say it. But he’d said it, and he feared that a part of him meant it. He watched his father’s eyebrows scrunch together in the rearview mirror as he opened his mouth to speak.
What would he say? Would he be disappointed? Would he understand? Would he tell Alexander to grow the fuck up and deal with it? Tell him to leave John? Take a break?
“Alex—” George began.
He was interrupted when John began to stir and lifted his head off Alexander’s shoulder. His cheek had the imprint of Alexander’s sweater on it and his hair was flattened on one side. He flashed a small, close-lipped smile, still half-asleep.
“Good morning,” John said.
Alexander raised an amused eyebrow.
“Welcome back to the world,” he said, chuckling, though he could feel his father’s concerned eyes still trained on him.
“Oh,” John replied conversationally. “I’m not staying awake. I just need to pee. Really bad.”
Fair enough.
George pulled off the highway and into the rest stop at the next exit. While John was in the bathroom, George and Alexander waited in line for coffee.
“Alex,” George tried again. “You can’t just—give up.”
Alexander took a deep breath.
“Do you think I want to? I just—I feel like I’ve been suffocating ever since I read the text, Dad. I feel like I’m reliving everything that happened with Mom. And I don’t know if I can do that again.”
George’s expression softened when Alexander’s voice broke on the last word. He grasped his son’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes, adopting his old military-esque discipline tactics.
“Alexander. You know what you signed up for. Even if you weren’t together, he’s still your best friend—”
“—Herc’s my best friend—”
Alexander dropped his gaze to the floor and shut up under his father’s glare.
“—and would you abandon your best friend? No man left behind. Haven’t I always taught you that? I thought you were better than this. We don’t leave people when they need us.”
Alexander sighed. He knew that his father was right.
“But—”
“But what Alex? But it’s going to be hard? You’re goddamn right it’s going to be hard. But it’s going to make you think of your mom? Yes, it is. But you don’t know how to help him? You’re helping him right now. As we speak, you’re helping him. Because he knows that he’s loved and he knows that he has someone in his corner, no matter what. When he showed up at the train station, you were helping him. When he woke up in your bed, you were helping him. Hell, when you told him that his father died, you were helping him. Because he found out from you, who he loves. You’re not going to give up on him, Alex. No goddamn way. Not on my watch.”
“Hey,” John said, shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering back to Alexander and George.
Alexander shook the swirling thoughts from his head and mustered a smile.
“Good to go?”
John nodded, so Alexander and George got their coffees and headed back to the car. Within five minutes, John had fallen asleep again. Alexander was bored, but he didn’t mind. He knew that John was probably exhausted from all the over thinking. And if sleeping was the way he wanted to cope, then Alexander would let him sleep.
It was a long drive, though John didn’t know it. He slept almost straight through the entire twelve hours. Whenever he woke up, he would squeeze Alexander’s hand, then sigh or yawn, and the calming bump of the car speeding down the highway would lull him back to sleep within minutes.
Right now, sleep was simple. Sleep was quiet. Each time John awoke, it was like the voices in his head started screaming, thoughts started swirling, and the inside of his skull transformed into a hurricane. It was as if he awoke into a nightmare, instead of the opposite. The reality was the nightmare.
So, he slept.
Alexander, however, could not sleep. He knew that his father was right, but he was absolutely filled with doubts. Not doubts about John necessarily, but self-doubts. He knew that John needed him—that wasn’t the problem. He just didn’t know how he was possible going to get through this. He felt like he was losing his mother all over again.
George tried talking to Alexander during the drive, knowing that he would overthink until he went mad, but Alexander wasn’t really in the mood to talk. He responded with short, one-word answered until George stopped trying and focused on the road.
Alexander’s thoughts consumed him so extensively that when George pulled into a hotel parking lot and stopped the car, it took him a full minute to realize that they were already in South Carolina.
“I called and made a reservation before we left,” George explained. “I’m going to go check in. Can you park the car and meet me inside?”
Before Alexander got a chance to wake John, his phone began blaring Anaconda.
Why was Hercules calling him?
“Hello?” Alexander said, confused.
“Alex!”
“Laf?”
“And Herc! Guess what?! Laf changed his flight this morning! He’s in my car right now! Guess where we’re going?”
As soon as he heard his best friends’ voices, Alexander’s worries flooded out of him and he was consumed with a warm, smiley feeling.
“Where?” he asked, strongly anticipating the answer.
“SOUTH CAROLINA!” Hercules and Lafayette sang in unison.
Alexander gasped, his heart full to bursting.
“Are you serious!? Oh, my god, John is going to be so excited! I’m so excited! Wait, I’m not going to tell him—let’s surprise him. Okay, I’ll text you the address of our hotel. How far away are you? Will you get here tonight? Oh my god I cannot wait to see you guys—”
“Alex, chill,” Herc laughed. “We literally just left my driveway; we’re going to be driving all night. My GPS says we’ll be there by about nine AM if we don’t stop and, considering Laf can’t drive for shit, I’m gonna need to stop and take a break at some point.”
“Okay, first of all, fuck you,” Lafayette interjected. Alexander’s laugh made John stir. “I can drive, Herc. I just can’t drive these idiotic left side driver cars. Like, why is this even a thing? I miss you, Alex.”
“Miss you too, Laf. Okay, I gotta go, John’s waking up. See you tomorrow!”
After Hercules and Lafayette hung up, Alexander redirected his attention to John, unable to contain his grin.
“Why are you so smiley?” John asked grumpily. “Who was on the phone?”
“It was just Herc and Laf checking in. And no reason, don't worry about it. We’re here, by the way.”
Alexander’s smile grew wider as John ripped off his sweater and jumped out of the car, breathing in the warm southern air.
“Thank god,” he sighed. “I fucking hate the cold. Did you know?”
Laughing, Alexander led John inside to meet up with George, who handed them each a room key.
Without much more than light small talk, the three of them grabbed their bags, went up the flight of stairs, flopped onto their beds, and fell asleep almost immediately.
John was pulled from his deep and peaceful sleep by a relentless slamming on the door of the hotel room. It was only ten o’clock in the morning—why would housekeeping already be this adamant about making sure they had enough towels?
“What the fuck?” John muttered. When he ripped the sheets off, Alexander’s eyes snapped open.
“Wssgoinon?” he mumbled, tapping a finger to John’s wrist.
“Someone’s trying to beat the door down.”
John pulled his shirt on and stood up, stretching his arms out in front of him. In a flash, Alexander realized who it must be and jumped up beside him. John gave him a weird look but shrugged it off, crossing the room to open the door.
“JOHN!” Lafayette screamed, throwing himself into John’s startled and unready arms.
Hercules stood in the doorway grinning, hands shoved in his pockets. Alexander smiled, giving him a quick hug before turning around to watch the antics. Lafayette had jumped onto John’s back and was ruffling his hair, absolutely squealing in excitement. He was like a puppy who hadn’t seen its owner in days.
Across the small room, George stirred, opening one eye in annoyed confusion. When he saw that the number of boys in the room had doubled, he sat up in bed and turned the lamp on.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” he remarked, eyeing Alexander. He shrugged in response, grinning.
“Neither was I,” John laughed, letting Lafayette smooch him on the cheek.
At John’s comment, George turned to Alexander and smiled. He knew that his son was trying his absolute best to listen to what he’d said yesterday.
“By the way, John, you were right,” Hercules piped up. “The weather is pretty great here.”
John’s grin widened and he hopped over to hug Hercules.
“I missed you guys,” he said into Herc’s broad chest. “What are you doing here!? How did you get here? Laf, you crossed the ocean!”
Lafayette chuckled. “You need someone other than the Angst Queen to keep you company, so I came back early.”
John beamed, everyone he loved grinning back at him in a half-circle.
“How are you, John?” Lafayette asked. His demeanour changed immediately as he wrapped an arm around his best friend and looked at him seriously.
For just a moment, he’d forgotten why they were there. He’d forgotten all the bad things. He’d forgotten that he was broken.
“Oh,” he said quietly as the memories crashed over him. So much had happened in the past few days that he staggered backwards with the flood of images circling through his head. He felt his knees buckle suddenly as Lafayette’s grip tightened, the only thing holding him up.
Lafayette led John to the edge of the bed where he took a seat, immediately surrounded on either side by Alexander and Hercules. George got up quickly, slipping on shoes and muttering something about grabbing coffee, leaving the group alone.
“John,” Hercules started. “I’m really sorry about your dad.”
John nodded, eyes tracing the pattern in the carpet. His excitement left him as quickly as it had found him. Everyone was so worried about him breaking that they couldn’t let him have a moment of happiness before getting down to business trying to put him back together again.
“I’m not,” Lafayette said quietly. Everyone looked at him. “I’m not sorry.”
Hercules raised his eyebrows desperately, silently begging Lafayette to stop talking.
“Laf—” Alexander interjected.
“No, come on, guys! You can’t be serious! John, look me in the eye and tell me you’re upset. Tell me you’re genuinely sad that you’ll never see your father again.”
John swallowed hard and looked up, finally. Alexander and Hercules looked like concerned parents, but Lafayette’s gaze was intense. Fierce.
“I—I have no idea,” John admitted weakly.
“John,” Lafayette continued, voice stronger. “Look at the scar on your knee, remember that? From when he pushed you and you sliced it open on a rock? Look at your arms, for God’s sake! I swear, there are still bruises from Thanksgiving. Look me in the fucking eye and tell me you miss him.”
John shook his head. He couldn’t find the words to respond. How could he possibly admit to that? How could he admit that he didn’t care if his father was dead? He felt like throwing up. He didn’t know what to think.
“You feel guilty because you aren’t sad, mon chéri. And know what? That’s okay. He hurt you, John. You don’t have to forgive him.”
John felt a hot tear run down his nose and watched it drip onto the carpet. Immediately, Alexander pulled him close.
“You’re right,” John whispered. “Wanna know something? My first thought when Lex told me was relief. I was relieved. How fucked up is that? How do you own up to that?”
“You’re allowed to feel like that,” Lafayette said gently. “He treated you like shit, John. He doesn’t deserve your respect, not even in death.”
Sighing, John wiped another tear from his cheek. “I still feel sad. It hurts.”
“You’re allowed to feel that, too.”
John nodded, leaning his head on his best friend’s shoulder.
His phone buzzed with a text from his brother.
James: The funeral is tomorrow at noon.
John typed a quick reply and clicked the screen off, managing a small smile.
“I hope you guys brought clothes other than sweaters,” he said quietly.
He would be damned if he wasn’t going to show off his hometown to his friends now that they were all finally in South Carolina.
He wanted to have one good day before dealing with whatever plethora of emotions his brain would throw at him during the funeral.
To his intense surprise and amazement, Hercules and Lafayette both took their sweaters off to reveal the ugliest button-down Hawaiian shirts he’d ever seen.
“We’re prepared for anything, John,” Hercules grinned over John’s peals of laughter.
Alexander smiled, but stayed silent. He was thinking. Thinking about the funeral. Thinking about how his mother never got a funeral. Thinking about what John’s father did to deserve a funeral when Alexander’s mother didn’t get one. Thinking about how excruciating the next day was going to be.
