//TW: self-hatred, mentions of self-harm and suicide, abuse, swearing\\

Alexander

He's hiding so much from me.

I can hear it in the way his voice clips with every word, as though the sound of his smile is nothing more than a disguise meant to distract me from the pain so obviously pushing him past his limits.

I can hear it in his tight little laugh, which contains almost no humor to it at all. It is empty, a husk of the music I had come to love so dearly. And my world felt all the darker, all the more dull and doomed without it.

I can hear it in his silence, as long as it stretches, as he listens to me ramble on about nothing for as long as I can just to keep him with me.

He is hiding so much from me in his absolute refusal to share his pain, to let me see him for what he is and help him as I long to. He is closing himself off from me, taking just another step backwards every day, further and further from my grasp. And as he retreats to his once-abandoned protective shell, I feel his joy slip right out of my hands as though I'm attempting to hold water.

If only there wasn't an entire city standing between us. If only I could have him, close enough to reach out to. If only I could press my fingers against the warming bliss of his skin and pull him tight to me, so that both our bodies intertwine in all the right ways, and I can pretend even momentarily that we are as we were meant to be.

But he is miles away, and the only thing I have to hold onto him, to affirm he is here, is his occasional laugh filling my heart with the lightest buoyancy, the strongest euphoria. And even that is so...strained. Fragile enough to break even with the most gentle of touches.

Though we may be in the same city, we are not in the same world.

God, I miss him. I long for him like the pieces of my broken heart, needing his presence to be whole and hating myself for that horrible dependency. After everything I had been through, all the people who had turned away from me, all the loved ones who had left me lost, stranded, you would have thought I would be used to losing and moving on.

And unfortunately, I am just as weak as I've always been.

And still, I did everything in my power to hear his gorgeous song, to hear his beautiful laugh and voice and know that there is something good in this world, that he is still alive and as long as he is still alive I will never stop fighting to have him back in my arms, where he belongs, where the world feels so effortlessly right.

"Do you wanna talk about what happened, now?" I asked, checking the time. We had been on call for almost two and a half hours, and I had hardly managed to coax more than a word or two out of him at a time. I just wanted to hear him, to know somehow, even in the face of the most decrepit, savage monsters, that he was smiling.

"Not really," Thomas returned, and the heartache in his hesitation hit me far too hard to be imagined. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, bab—" I caught myself, frowning as soon as the first syllable passed my lips. I cleared my throat, my cheeks burning in embarrassment and frustration at my indecision. It had just been so natural. "It's okay, Thomas. I'm just happy I get to talk to you, that's all."

"I'm happy I get to talk to you too," he said with the sweetest of sighs. It was so remarkably easy to imagine him sitting next to me, when I close my eyes. If I opened them, maybe I'd find him laying on the bed at my side, his chin resting on his palm, listening to me go on and on about the most mundane things with that beautiful smile plastered across his face, like a being straight from a fairytale.

"You know I think you're amazing, right? That you're quite literally the best thing that's ever happened to me? That I'm so very lucky to have you in my life?"

"I...thank you, Alexander. I feel the same way about you." And even through his sadness, I could hear the genuine care that ignited his voice, brightening the world for the briefest of moments.

And it is extinguished just as fast.

"Oh, God." Just underneath the soft whisper of his voice, I swore I could hear yelling, a desperate pounding somewhere in the distance and yet so terribly close.

"What? What's wrong?" I demanded, hating how my voice betrayed my weakness, making me sound like a scared child, even to me. I gripped my pen tighter, my fingernails digging into my skin. Gasping slightly in pain, I forced myself to let go, to recalibrate. I just needed to breathe but I couldn't breathe without him. Not when he's so far, not when there are far too many things standing between us.

"Uh, it's nothing. I'm...oh, I've got to go," he whispered in response, fear filling every single syllable.

"Thomas, wait!"

"I'm sorry. I can't stay. Thank you so much, Alexander, for tonight. I...I have to go. But I'll talk to you later?"

God, he said it with so much unabashed hope, hardly bothering to conceal it. It struck me in the moment, how he needed our nightly conversations as much as I did, if not more. It wrenched at the delicate strings of my heart, and I had to take a deep breath to fight down the tears blossoming in my eyes and the sobs working their way up my throat. I had to be strong, for him, but strong was the very last thing I felt like being.

But if I could hold myself together now, if I could be his anchor and his wings, then what else mattered? So I swallowed down the tears and forced a light happiness that felt so terribly contrived, but it was all I had left to go off of.

"I...hey! Maybe we can go up to your roof tomorrow night? Would that be okay?"

There it was. That blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment of peace, of bliss. There was that beautiful, tinkling laugh untarnished even by the rough connection of our phones and the miles that sat between us, growing with each and every day. His laugh stood untouched, a testament to just how strong my Thomas truly was, even if it is not the kind of strength we usually imagine. But I would argue that he is the strongest person I know, the strongest person to have ever walked the earth.

His laugh made me smile, made the world seem alright for just a second or two. And for that brief little stretch of time, as long as I could hear his breathing on the other side of the phone, and know that somewhere, my Thomas sat gazing at the bright neon light of the phone screen just as I did, my mirror and my opposite, there was nothing else in this world but the two of us, our souls entwined. Even if I couldn't see his face illuminated by the yellow street lights, even if we couldn't lay together in the grass and bask in the glow of the stars, we still had one another.

"Yes. I would love to see you again."

Oh, how close that came.

"Promise me you won't cut?"

"I promise."

"Good! And you better not break that promise or anything, Thomas. Because I'll know. And then you'll never get your sweater back!"

"Oh, so I am getting that back eventually?" God how I loved that teasing tone, that little thing meant solely for me. A flash of the happiness we had both lost the minute he followed James out of the opposite end of that dark alleyway.

"Uh," I said, sinking into it, letting the feeling of something that once contained his warmth engulf my body. It smelled like him, and thus, it smelled like safety. "Well, no. But I want you to feel like you have a shot at getting it back one day. So you'll keep trying, you know? It won't be fun if you give up."

He laughed again, and I indulged in that momentary blip of relief. For even though the steps were small, they were in the right direction, and that was more than enough for me. "I'm glad you think it's fun, Alexander."

"I think it's sweet is all!"

"You're sweet."

"Well, this is true."

Thomas laughed again, and I found myself able to breathe just a little easier for as long as the sound filled my ears, filled my room. How perfect this moment was, listening to the music of his happiness, knowing that even despite it all I could still make him smile, make him laugh.

He is still mine. And I am still his. And though we may be worlds apart, we have everything we need right now so long as we have each other.

"Okay. I won't break my promise as long as you promise to get some sleep!"

"Hmm. That's not fair."

"How is that not fair?"

"I don't know. Because I said so?"

"Alexander!"

"Okay, okay. It's a deal," I said, unable to hide my own laughter, harmonizing with his to masterfully create a wonderful song.

But such a song cannot last as long as it should.

"Goodnight, Alexander. Sweet dreams."

I sighed, and swallowed. "Take care Thomas. I'll talk to you soon."

"You too. Bye." He hung up, and that was that. I sat back in my chair and took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

The room felt so remarkably small now that his voice was no longer apart of it.

So small and so empty, leaving me floating adrift in an endless expanse, deaf and blind and dumb to the world around me. I may as well be dead, for I hardly feel anything else besides this all encompassing hollowness.

I want an escape, but one simply does not exist. I have nothing. I am nothing. Not without my Thomas.

I feel like I'm wondering through an empty forest, trying to find my home. A lifeless forest where the sun doesn't touch the ground and the birds can't sing. Where death looms around every corner. Where there is no life or even a remote sign of it. No bugs, no birds, no animals. Just silence.

I feel like I'm lost in the middle of a forest, trying to make sense of the world around me. Of the leaves that block out the sun. Of the vines that choke the life out of the trees. Of the dead and decaying plant matter that couldn't reach the sun in time.

I feel like I'm never going to be able to find my home. I feel like I'm never going to get to see the one person I care about ever again.

I feel lost and alone and hopeless.

And there simply is no cure for that.

God, I just want to lie down in the dirt and stare up at the dark canopy of the leaves, blocking out any hint of the moon's gentle light. I want to let the vines creep over my body, pulling me back down into the world I came out of. I want to return to the soil, to become another permanent fixture of the earth and all the life it supports. Perhaps I can finally give back, perhaps I can finally carve a meaning out of a place where there isn't one.

Perhaps somebody will wander through the forest, taking refuge from the sun's sweltering presence, and find me draped in roses and thorns.

Perhaps he'd sit down right next to me, breathe some semblance of life back into my weary veins. He'd uncover my aching love and join it with his own, and together we'd sit in the meadow of flowers and birdsong until the end of time.

And perhaps I'll finally find him again. For good this time, and I promise myself that once I do, I will never let go of him ever again, regardless of the predators that linger in every shadow, waiting for the moment to tear us apart. I would rather die in his arms than spend another fucking day without him and his love.

But until then, I had nothing.

Until I had Thomas, safe inside my arms, I had nothing.

The sound on his end right before he had to end the call haunted me. The pounding on the door accompanied by the yelling, all tied together with the unhidden note of fear lingering in his voice for far longer than it had any right to.

God, none of this was fair.

I can complain about it all I want, but it does no good. I can fight and I can argue and I can ultimately suffer for my sins, but it doesn't change anything. The world we live in is far too cruel, for whatever higher being watching over us is far too intent on twisting the paths of our lives to fit their great cosmic joke.

What is the point in suffering with no reward? What is the point of loving only to be repaid with hatred and an ultimately bitter end?

A rapid thundering sound, not too different from the horrid discordance that had pulled my Thomas away from our perfect little sanctuary, jolted me out of the mindless daydream, and for the most shameful moment, a flash of fear electrocuted my body.
It sounded far too similar to the rich staccato of gunshots disrupting the otherwise silent night, and though I had been lucky enough to never hear them firsthand, I still couldn't stop myself from imagining how they echoed.

But a voice followed the faux-gunshots, one of the few voices that was actually enough to bring me back to this world, to ground me when there was nowhere left to go but up into the endless sky. I let out a breath of relief as it drifted through the room.

"Alexander?" John asked, hesitant but so obviously concerned.

And the relief faded away as the ever-present seed of worry once more sprouted in my stomach, and the memories of the boy I had left behind bubbled back up to the surface.

"What?" I snapped.

"Can we come in?"

"We?"

"Yeah. Laf, Eliza, Aaron, Angie, all of us. I...I already told them everything. Can we come in?"

"No."

"Alexander!" That was unmistakably Laf.

"Leave me alone."

"You can't sulk in there fooooooreeeever," Peggy scolded.

Sulking? In what world was this sulking?

I had lost the only thing that had ever fucking mattered to me, the only person who could turn even the dullest, most horrible days into a moment of time to forever be cherished and loved.

I had lost to a monster, a coward who hid behind his violence and the ease with which his hand struck, a fucking psychopath who could easily die a thousand painful deaths and would still never atone for the atrocities he had committed.

I had lost.

Plain and simple.

So, no, this wasn't sulking.

At least, that's what I tried so hard to convince myself. But even I knew that I was only making excuses, only trying so hard to justify my hesitation, my own cowardice.

"So are you coming out now or do we have to go in?" Aaron demanded, so clearly pissed off and done with my shit. I didn't blame him.

But still.

I didn't have to take this. Not now. Not ever.

"Fuck off."

"Dude! We just want to help you!" Hercules.

"Alexander, you're being unreasonable." Aaron.

"Can you stop moping for five minutes and come out and talk to us? You're acting like a two year old, Alex." Maria.

"Alexander, if you aren't out here in two minutes, I swear to God, I will do something!" Angelica.

And then, Eliza spoke. It was just two words. Two, very simple words. "Alexander. Please."

But those two words said so much.

More than I could ever explain. More than I could ever want to explain, for as much as I love to hear myself talk. They were just two words, yet words that bound themselves to me, words that sealed our fates together.

In those two words echoed the truth, and whether I was strong enough to face it or not simply did not matter. It still existed, it still rung through the air with those undeniable meanings and unadulterated love disguised as a simple plea.

We want to help you.

We understand what you're going through.

We're here for you.

We're your friends.

Please, let us help.

I stared down at the paper, the messy jots of ink beginning to swim together as tears filled my eyes. My breath came out in short, quick gasps, pulled from deep within me. And surprisingly enough, I laughed. I laughed without caution, without care, letting the empty noise fill the room because it's all that I could offer this messy, messy world.

They were my friends. They were all that I had left, and yet they were more than I would ever deserve. They were here for me and I was turning them away.

"Alexander?" John's voice floated through the room again. "Can you please let us in?"

I stood up and stepped over to the door, doing everything I could to hide the weakness spilling down my face. They didn't have to see me reduced to this emptiness that often finds me in the middle of the night. I had never showed them this side before, I had never allowed myself to break in front of them in fear of how quickly they would turn their backs on me. But now, there was no point. They already knew the extent of my weakness. And if they hadn't seen it first-hand, I'm sure it wasn't hard to imagine for themselves.

But if they left me, then I truly was lost once and for all.

I hesitated at the door, my fingers resting on the doorknob, and sucked in a deep breath.

"What if he doesn't answer?" I heard Hercules mumble. "We're not going to leave him alone, are we?"

"Fuck no," Angelica returned, her voice sharp but just barely hiding its own note of concern. "He'll let us in or we're going in ourselves."

"You have the key, right, John?" asked Maria softly.

"Yep. And I'm not afraid to use it, too," he said, no doubt knowing that I was listening. "So he may as well just let us in now."

I sighed, pushed down the hesitation tugging at my stomach, trying to pull me back away from the door. The metal of the knob burned, but I pushed myself through the pain as I slid the door open and stepped back, hoping the darkness did enough to cloak my face.

It didn't.

The eight of them stood there, packed together in the rather cramped hallway, simultaneously the best sight I've ever seen and the most damning one. Each of them went silent as I opened the door. I lowered my head, unable to face the weight of their judging gazes bearing down on me.

Eliza was the first one to speak. "Alexander, we know– Alexander, are you crying?"

"No! I'm not crying! I never cry. You're crying!"

"What do you wanna call this then?" Aaron asked, clearly unimpressed.

"I— I— I don't know! Okay? I don't know!"

Lafayette stepped forward, his gaze betraying nothing. I forced myself to stand still, to meet his eyes, even if my thoughts already began to swim with all the things he'd say to me, all the weakness he'd point out. All the horrible imperfections that riddled my very existence.

But instead, Lafayette surged forward and wrapped his arms around me.

I fell into his embrace.

"Alexander," Eliza said softly, and the next thing I knew, I was squashed between all of my friends as they pulled me into a massive group hug.

I had forgotten what it felt like to be cared for, so unconditionally, so freely. I had forgotten what it felt like to be loved by people who cared for you no matter what, even if I had never truly had its absence from my life it at all.

"It's okay, Alexander," Eliza said softly as they all pulled away. "Everything's going to be okay."

"We're here for you," John added, setting his hand on my shoulder and casting me the faintest hint of a smile. "And we always will be, regardless of what happens. We're your friends."

"And we are going to get Thomas back," Aaron added, a resoluteness ringing through his words, a resoluteness that struck me to my core.

"Why don't you guys come inside?" I offered, standing aside and letting them trickle into the room.

I wasn't as lost as I thought I was, not as long as I had them.

~•~

My phone went off, filling the otherwise silent room with its promising ding just as much as it filled me with a small sliver of hope. I dropped my pen almost the second I heard it, my heart hammering in my chest with relief, and reached for my phone laying on my bed, an unwelcome distraction I had forced to the side to be forgotten about.

I prayed that it was him. I prayed that it was my Thomas, come to call me and promise that he was alright and take me away from this unending nightmare. If I could just hear his voice once more tonight and affirm that everything was going to be okay, then maybe I could sleep easier. Not easy, but easier.

I just needed to talk to him. To joke around with him, to hear him laugh. I just needed to know that my Thomas was still alive, gripping to life even with just a thread.

I needed him.

I turned my phone over, biting down on my tongue, and let my eyes skim over the name.

Oh.

A great tidal wave of disappointment washed over my shores, pulling me under its surface and filling my lungs with that suffocating bitterness as I stared at the words glaring up at me, a very far cry from the person I had so needed it to be.

Fine. That was fine. Just fine.

Part of me considered not answering it as the suddenly obnoxious and unwelcome tone filled the air. I could just ignore him, let my silence speak more than my words ever could. And I could just say it was his fault for calling so late, anyway. Just so he didn't have to hear my crushed hope, just so he didn't know of my infinite weakness.

But just as the thing almost petered out, I sighed and answered it, the better side of me winning once and for all.

"What?" I asked, not even faking a calm or happy voice.

There was no point.

"Is now not a good time?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and scratchy. To be honest, he really didn't sound that well.

"It doesn't matter. What do you want?"

"Well, I'm sick. Like, really sick. Remember those essays we have to do? I can't do them. I'm really sorry, Alexander. I really am."

Wow. Way to be useful, Jay.

I sighed. "Fine. How many do you have done."

"Five."

Thanks for your contribution, Jay.

"I'll cover for you."

"Thank you so much, I owe you one, I really do–"

I hung up.

Throwing my phone back on the bed, I leaned backwards and stared up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. Sighing, I pulled at my hair, wondering if I could get away with just ripping it out altogether. If anybody would notice how much I just wanted to hurt myself, how it was perhaps the only way I could feel human again.

But not even a few minutes later, another ding filled the air.

I sighed and automatically reached for my phone, instinct driving me at this point. I glanced at the notification filling the screen, and a small, choked laugh escaped my throat.

Thomas: <3

Thomas: idk if youre awake or not but please try to go to bed soon

Thomas: i'll talk to you tomorrow ok bb?? sleep well !!

I smiled, unable to hide it anymore, and typed out a quick response before pulling the blanket over my lonely body and letting the darkness take over for just a little bit longer.

And again, I dreamt of Thomas and our forest, and laying in his arms for a wonderful but unbearably short eternity.

~•~

This chapter was really boring but I promise the next one will be interesting (and probably heartbreaking too)