Synopsis: "Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide."
Thirteen-year-old Alexander Hamilton's life is once again turned upside down when his cousin commits suicide.

Here it is! This is the first of a mini-series in my Freedom High AU using the words from "Alexander Hamilton" as titles.

Warnings: Suicide, disturbing imagery, anxiety, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of drug use, implied child abuse, Google translate French (I'm sorry)

Please read with discretion.

Enjoy!

~TH~

"Come on John, you know I don't like it when you come with me," Alexander mumbled, kicking a large rock as he and his best friend John Laurens walked through the less-than-safe neighbourhood.

His friend scoffed, "So you think I'm gonna let you walk through here by yourself?"

"I live here. I know how to take care of myself. All this does is make you walk back out by yourself."

"Yeah, well, we're here, so might as well stop worrying about it."

They both stopped in front of the small apartment building. John had often expressed his wonderment that the building hadn't been condemned yet. Alex always shrugged it off and reinforced his decision to never let John inside.

"You better get going. You don't want to be out here after dark." Alex said heading up the rickety wooden steps. "And, uh, text me so that I know you made it back."

John's face softened slightly. "Sure. Let me know if you need anything."

"I'm fine." He rolled his eyes.

John shrugged, "I know it's been a hard year since your mom-"

"I'm fine." He enforced. "Now I'm serious, get out of here." For emphasis, Alex turned around and opened the door.

Laurence sighed and left.

Alex entered the small house, the burnt acid smell had stopped bothering him months ago, but it was still a shock whenever he first came into the house.

He entered as quietly as possible. If he could get in and out of the apartment without his cousin even knowing he was there, Alex counted it a major success. He threw his backpack onto "his bed" which doubled as the living room couch.

As he headed towards the kitchen, the acidic smell got stronger. It would be fine. He didn't need to be in there long. He just needed a glass of...

He stopped, frozen in the doorway. Alex found his mouth open as his heart started pounding. His cousin was there, hanging from the ceiling. The face was devoid of all colour, the chord still tightly wrapped around the throat. A chair was tipped on its side under the motionless body.

"No," Alex whispered, feeling it difficult to breathe. "No.. This isn't... It's not..." He turned, vomiting as the sight finally sunk in.

He backed away. His eyes still watching the dead corpse hanging from his ceiling.

He needed out.

He needed out.

He needed out now.

He took off at a dead sprint. The door slammed behind him and the stairs creaked dangerously, but he didn't care.

He needed out.

He needed out.

He needed out.

His phone started vibrating in his pocket.

John must have made it home. He was safe. Someone was safe.

He needed out.

He needed out.

He needed out.

He needed...

He needed to just keep running.

~H~

George Washington watched as his eighth grade homeroom gathered. John Laurence slipped in right as the bell rang, taking an open seat beside Gilbert Lafayette. The French exchange student was living with George and Martha while he continued his schooling and had become fast friends with Hamilton's small group.

George noticed with a frown that the boy was missing. Shaking off the uneasy feeling he had, he went through the morning routine. It wasn't until the bell rang for dismissal to first period that he voiced his concern.

"Laurens," the boy stopped right before exiting through the door. "May I speak to you a moment." The group of friends all awkwardly stood inside the classroom as John nodded.

"I noticed that Alexander wasn't present this morning, is there a reason?"

The boy started to fidget. "I'm sure he just slept late. He'll be here later. Alex would never skip school. He loves it too much. He's just late."

George nodded, but it sounded more like the boy was trying to convince himself than his teacher.

"You boys know you can come to me if there is a problem, right?" He cast a glance over the group. They nodded before glancing at the clock on the wall. George sighed. "Get to class." They all scurried away to first hour.

The boy was just late, why did he feel so uneasy?

~H~

Eighth-grade history was the last class period of the day. Washington was anxious to see if Alexander had yet arrived.

It didn't take long to see that the boy had not shown up. Hamilton's three friends all looked extremely tense. Hercules Mulligan was bouncing his leg so hard, George could see the desk shaking. Lafayette was biting the end of his pencil, a habit he only reverted to when particularly upset about something. Laurence had his phone tightly gripped in his left hand and his eyes kept flickering to the clock. Whatever was going on with Alexander, his friends were just as clueless as he was.

George was relieved when the bell finally rang.

The three boys nearly sprinted out the door.

"Wait!" Everyone in the classroom froze. "You three," he pointed at them. "Stay here. I need to speak with you."

They looked at each other as if debating whether it would be worth it to disobey. In the end, they shuffled over to Washington's desk and waited while the rest of the class quickly left.

When the room was clear, Geroge sat down and looked at the boys. They all refused to make eye contact. "What's going on."

"Nothing, sir." John was quick to answer.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, "Then do you mind telling me where Alexander is?"

No one answered.

"Gilbert?" The boy had been living with the Washingtons for several months. George hoped it would help him get some answers now.

"We don't know." Lafayette sighed. "He has not answered any of our texts or calls."

George nodded, "Who was the last person to see him?"

"I was." Laurens volunteered. "I saw him go inside his house. He had me, uh, he wanted me to text him when I got home, but he never answered.

"Where does he live?" At this, John paled and looked away. "Gilbert?"

The Frenchman shrugged, "I've never been to his house. We always meet somewhere else."

"Mr Mulligan?"

"Like Gil said, we always meet somewhere."

"Laurens, is there a reason no one besides you has been to his house?" George was beginning to get worried. No one had even heard from the boy in almost twenty-four hours and now, no one knew where he lived.

"He, uh, doesn't like people to see where he lives, he's never actually let me inside. He doesn't like for me to even walk with him, I just... Don't like him walking there by himself..."

"John, where does he live."

The young boy hesitated. "I, uh, I don't think he would like for me to tell you."

"Laurens, I can get the information from the school office. It would be easier for you just to tell me, but if you're going to be hard to get along with, I can do it the hard way." He went to stand up when a voice interrupted him.

"He lives in the St. Croix apartments!"

The room seemed to still. Hercules and Gilbert both turned to John with wide, slightly frightened eyes. George felt the blood drain from his face.

"St. Croix?"

Laurens nodded.

"Take me there." Washington insisted, rising and gathering his things.

"I don't think-"

"John, listen, Alexander is missing and the last time you saw him he was at Croix. Are you going to take me, or do I need to get assistance from the office?"

No one said anything for a long moment.

"Okay," Laurens finally whispered.

George nodded, "Hercules, Gilbert, go back to my house. Tell Martha where we're going. Wait for us there. If anything changes one or us will text you."

"But Monsieur Washington-!" Lafayette began to argue.

"Go! I won't get anything done if I have to look after all of you. I promise I'll text you as soon as we know anything. "

Hercules looked like he was going to add something, but Gilbert gave an annoyed sigh before grabbing his friend by the sleeve and pulling him towards the door.

Laurens still looked a little upset at having revealed Alexander's secret. George would have to worry about that later.

"Let's go."

~H~

When George and Laurens arrived at apartment ten of the St. Croix apartments, they both stopped. Washington carefully made his way up the three broken-down steps and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he knocked harder.

"Laurens, I want you to stay our here if anything happens, yell for me." The boy nodded quickly.

Geroge found the door unlocked. He pushed it open, a concerning creak emitting as it swung inward. The smell hit him immediately. Cocaine. The teacher felt his blood begin to boil as he entered the living room. A bed sheet was haphazardly thrown over a ratty couch with a pillow and half folded blanket. Alexander's backpack was there, it appeared to not even have been opened.

"Hamilton!" He called out, hoping for, but not expecting an answer.

George was even more dismayed to find that Alexander's "room" was the cleanest room in the house.

The only real bedroom in the apartment was absolutely filthy. Half-eaten food littered the floor and dressers. Even more prominent was alcohol. Bottles and cans of beer filled the room. It seemed everywhere you looked there were multiple signs of alcoholism.

And the bed, if you could even call it that, had more holes then the actual mattress. Clothes were everywhere and all of them smelled thickly of smoke.

Hadn't Alexander mentioned moving in with his cousin? How had anyone allowed that? Had anyone even checked to make sure the boy was safe?

The bathroom door didn't have a handle and there was water clogging the sink and bathtub, though the water looked more brown than anything.

The last room in the house was the kitchen. The smell of Cocaine got even stronger as he got closer. How had such a bright boy been living in such terrible conditions and never let on?

Entering the kitchen, he let out a startled gasp. His hand flew to his mouth at the picture in front of him. A man was hanging from the ceiling. As if in realization he smelled vomit, looking down he saw a small puddle. Recent.

This is what Alexander came home to. This is what Alexander was dealing with.

George pulled out his phone and dialled 911, walking back towards the front of the house.

As soon as the voice on the other end answered, he began, "Yes, I would like to report a suicide."

He had just opened the door and immediately regretted it as he saw all of the blood drain from Laurens's face.

"Suicide? Did Alexander-?"

"Attempted or official?" The voice on the phone continued.

"Official. It's official."

"Mr Washington?"

"What's the location?"

"Apartment 10 at St. Croix."

"We have a team on its way. Wait outside of the house if possible."

George hung up and looked at John. He looked on the verge of tears.

"Mr Washington, please, please tell me-"

"It wasn't Alex. I think it was his cousin. Alexander must have walked in on..."

Laurens looked relieved, then realization set in. "So Alex... Saw his cousin... Dead?"

"I believe so."

"Mr Washington, we need to find him!"

"I know, I know, but right now we need to wait for the police."

~H~

The police arrived fifteen minutes later. Geroge could tell Laurens was upset, but there was little he could do at the moment.

An officer exited the car and walked up to the two of them. "I'm officer Derek Johnson." He said simply, shaking the teacher's hand.

"George Washington," was the reply.

"And who is this young man?" The officer turned his attention to John.

"John Laurens, why are we here? Alexander is still missing and we're just standing around talking about a dead guy!"

"Laurens! Show some respect!" Washington growled.

The boy mumbled an apology.

"Is someone missing?" This was directed back at Washington.

He gave a hesitant nod. "My student, Alexander Hamilton. He wasn't at school today. I came to check on him and found... Well..."

"A relative of the deceased?" He had his notebook out, jotting things down.

Another nod, "Cousins. I believe the... Deceased, was his guardian. His school things are in the house so I'm assuming..."

"He walked in on the body." The officer continued. He looked in thought for a moment before calling out, "Sally!"

A young female officer appeared, she smiled kindly at Laurens before turning to Johnsons.

"What's up, boss?"

"This is John, his friend went missing. I was hoping you could get any information he has."

"Sure thing." She gave another large smile before nodding towards the squad car. "Let's leave these two boring adults to do their thing."

Laurens offered a weak smile, following her away.

"I assume he's you're students?" Johnson smiled fondly.

George nodded, "He's Alexander's best friend."

"Understandable. Why don't you take me inside?"

He motioned for a couple of forensic analysts who followed them in.

"Cocaine." Johnson wrinkled his nose. Washington found himself just as angry as the first time he entered.

"How old did you say this boy, you're student, is?"

"Thirteen."

Derek looked disgusted. "Do you know how long he's been here?"

"A year. His mother passed away last February." It was mid-March now. He had spent an entire year in this abhorrent apartment.

When they reached the kitchen the analysts went to remove the body.

"Can you give me an estimated time of death?"

One of them turned back, "It appears around thirty hours old."

Washington nodded. "That's set a couple of hours before Alex would have gotten home."

"So, about this boy. Has there been anything to suggest he's been struggling? Any implications of drugs or alcohol? Any physical or mental abuse?"

George shook his dead. "Nothing too unusual, but he's never had the most... Consistent home life. His abusive father left him about three years ago. He was actually put into prison a year ago after trying to abduct Alex. His mom died not long after that. He told the school he moved in with his cousin, but we had no idea about," he spread his arms out motioning towards the filth, "He's never let on about anything like this. I suppose to him it was... Normal." His heart broke even as he said the words. Alexander had one of the brightest minds he'd ever seen. It was ridiculously unfair that he would have to live through so much.

"We'll put a search out for him. You can keep looking if you like. Just make sure you call the station if you find anything."

"Of course." George reached out his hand and Johnson accepted the handshake. "I appreciate all your help."

"You're a good teacher, George. Not many people would spend their Friday night checking up on their students. Speaking of," he nodded towards the door, "Tell Sally I need her in here. You and the boy are free to go, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped by the office later to fill out an official report."

George nodded and headed back outside, thankful to be away from the sickening sight.

~H~

"It's getting late. Maybe I should take you home." George suggested, looking at the time. It was nearly nine. Martha had already sent Hercules home.

"No! We've got to find him! He's been alone since last night. It's cold out and he didn't take anything with him! We've got to find him tonight!"

"Okay, okay." George tried to calm him. "Can you think of anywhere else he might be?"

John paused for a long moment, thinking.

Then he gasped, "The cemetery! Where his mom was buried."

"That's a long walk, are you sure he would have gone that far?"

"Trust me, sir."

"Okay then," Washington sighed, "Let's go back and get my car. It will be easier to get there."

~H~

They saw him almost as soon as they pulled up.

"There he is!" John shouted, unbuckling at a rapid speed.

"Wait." George set his hand on the boy. "Let me talk to him first."

"But he's my best friend! I wanna-"

"John, listen. He's just seen something that completely changed his life."

"Again," he mumbled.

"Yes, again. I'm afraid he might be in shock or try to run away."

"But I'm-!"

"I know, Laurens. I know. Just let me talk to him a minute. Text Gilbert and tell him that we found him."

The boy grumbled an agreement as George exited the car. He cautiously approached the boy who was sitting with his back to the small tombstone. Alexander had his hands tightly wrapped around his knees and was rocking back and forth. George noticed that he was wearing the same clothes he had worn to school the previous day.

He was almost beside the boy when he heard what he was mumbling, "Je suis désolé je suis désolé!" the words were spoken rapidly and barely coherently. "Je ne veux plus être seul! Pourquoi tout le monde me quitte toujours?" (Translation: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't want to be alone again! Why does everyone always leave me?)

Washington watched silently as he continued to cry and whisper into his knees. It was times like this where he needed Laffeyet. He really needed to learn French.

"Alexander?" He said it as calmly as he could.

The boy's head jerked up and he moved back closer to the stone.

"Alexander," he said again, "Do you know who I am?"

"M-mister W-Wash-sh-ington?" The poor boy was shaking nearly uncontrollably.

George nodded, "That's right."

"My c-cousin's dead." It came out in a broken sob. The fact that Hamilton would so openly admit something like that spoke to the boy's state of mind.

"I know, I know," The teacher inched closer until he was directly in front of the boy. He crouched down and tentatively placed his hand on the boy's shaking knee. "Alexander, I know you're upset, and I know that it hurts, but you can't stay out here. Have you been here the whole time?"

Alex offered a jerky nod.

"Okay." he took a deep breath, "Why don't you come home with me tonight? Gilbert would love for you to stay."

The boy shook his head rapidly, "Y-you don-don't want me. Je suis mauvais la chance." He buried his face back in his knees. "Tout le monde part toujours." (Translation: I'm bad luck. Everyone always leaves.)

"I'm sorry Alexander, but you need to speak English."

He shook his head again, "Why would you want to take me?"

"Because I care about you and I don't want to see you get hurt out here."

At that Alexander laughed, "Personne ne s'en soucie vraiment.Vous dites juste que pour me confondre. Si les gens se soucient vraiment de moi, pourquoi continuent-ils à me quitter?" (Translation: Nobody really cares. You just say that to confuse me. If people really care about me, why do they keep leaving me?)

"Alexander, please listen to me." The boy finally looked up, "I don't know what you're saying and I know I can't understand what you are feeling. Just come back to the house with me. We can get everything worked out from there okay."

Alex sat still for a long moment as if debating.

"Laurens is in the car waiting. I don't think he'd be very happy with either of us if you don't come back."

"John?" the whisper was practically squeaked out.

George nodded, "He's been very worried about you."

"O-okay." he finally mumbled.

Washington found a small smile slip onto his face. "Good. Let's get going."

Alex stood up on shaky legs. Seeming to be spurred on by impulse alone, the boy wrapped his arms around George. The teacher slowly returned the gesture.

"It's okay, son. Everything's going to be okay."

~TH~

I certainly hope you enjoyed this! I think it's my longest short story to date!

Be sure to let me know what you thought of this! It was a lot of fun to write but took a lot longer than I expected.

I will be going back and filling in some of the stories starting with "His Father Split, Full of It, Debt-Ridden" and as of right now, the last story I have planned in the "Alexander Hamilton" Series is "Alex You've Got to Fend for Yourself". Just to let you guys know what's coming up.

As mentioned before, I don't speak French. If anyone noticed any mistakes, please let me know!

Just to let you guys know, I return to school tomorrow... So I don't know how much writing will be getting done. But I will certainly do my best!

See you guys soon!

God bless,
Jamie