"Call me son......one more time....."

Alexander coughed the dust and soot out of his weakened lungs as the dry tears creeped out of his closed eyelids. His fist clenched around the black headset as voices echoed from the speakers.

"Hamilton? Hamilton! Do you copy?"

George looked down at a Alexander's small frame as he sat with his knees to his chest, back to George.

"Alex....."

Alexander lifted his head upwards toward the ceiling of the crashed black helicopter as dust and dirt swirled around them. Wires hung from all directions along with broken chairs that were sprawled along the ceiling.

"...we're gonna die here..." He muttered as he closed his eyes. "God realized his mistake of letting me live the first time...."

"Alexander that's not tru-"

"YOU KNOW IT IS!" Alexander snapped, standing up to face George. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his uniform and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Angrily, with bitter tears, he unfolded the paper and began yelling its contents

"I take up my pen just to give you an imperfect account of one of the most dreadful Hurricanes that memory or any records whatever can trace, which happened here on the 31st ultimo at night.

It began about dusk, at North, and raged very violently till ten o'clock. Then ensued a sudden and unexpected interval, which lasted about an hour. Meanwhile the wind was shifting round to the South West point, from whence it returned with redoubled fury and continued so 'till near three o'clock in the morning.

Good God! what horror and destruction. It's impossible for me to describe or you to form any idea of it. It seemed as if a total dissolution of nature was taking place. The roaring of the sea and wind, fiery meteors flying about it in the air, the prodigious glare of almost perpetual lightning, the crash of the falling houses, and the ear-piercing shrieks of the distressed, were sufficient to strike astonishment into angles.

A great part of the buildings throughout the Island are levelled to the ground, almost all the rest very much shattered; several persons killed and numbers utterly ruined; whole families running about the streets, unknowing where to find a place of shelter; the sick exposed to the keenness of water and air without a bed to lie upon, or a dry covering to their bodies; and our harbours entirely bare. In a word, misery, in all its most hideous shapes, spread over the whole face of the country. A strong smell of gunpowder added somewhat to the terrors of the night; and it was observed that the rain was surprisingly salt. Indeed the water is so brackish and full of sulphur that there is hardly any drinking it.

My reflections and feelings on this frightful and melancholy occasion, are set forth in the following self-discourse.

Where now, oh! vile worm, is all thy boasted fortitude and resolution? What is become of thine arrogance and self sufficiency? Why dost thou tremble and stand aghast? How humble, how helpless, how contemptible you now appear-"

Alexander was suddenly cut off by a tight embrace from George. The letter slipped from Alexander's hand and fluttered to the ground.

"Listen to me son...this won't be like when you were seventeen. You won't be alone. You're going to live through this. Because I need you alive. We all need you alive. Can you do that for me son?"

Alexander could hear the words son ring in his ears like the broken bell. They were louder than any of his conflicting thoughts. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he head held by George tightly. His lip quivered as he remembered his father's last words before he walked out that oak wood door.

'Can you do that for me son?'

He buried his face in George's shoulder wrapping his arms across his back crying.

"....I-in the eye of a hurricane....there is quiet....."

George looked back at him petting and smoothing out his hair, picking out the rocks and dirt.

"For a moment.....a yellow sky."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Breaking News. American troops sent to France for aid trapped in a hurricane and no word has been sent from General Washington or Hamilton about return.

President John Adams has sent reinforcements but they have yet to arrived.

If any-"

Jefferson turned off the tv sighing, falling back into his bed.

"Dammit! Fuck!" He cursed, clenching his fists, he let his eyes slip shut, he thought about James, and the fight they'd had. Maybe he was too rough, James seemed to like it though, god, he was stupid. Thomas, visibly agitated, sat up, he thought about calling his ex-lover, but shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Meanwhile, James was feeling absolutely horrible, sure Alexander had been engulfed in bedsheets with his boyfriend but, he wasn't heartless, he still cared for the man. He still respected him.

"shit.." James cursed, he ran a sweaty hand through his short hair and took in a deep shaky breath.

He reached for his phone, pulling it out of his pocket and scanning the screen, he clicked the phone on and began to dial Thomas' number.

"hello-?" a distorted voice came from the speakers, he sounded; broken.

"Come over." James bit his lip, and parted his thighs ever so slightly.

"wh-" Thomas began, but thought, he did miss James.

"alright, on my way."

Soon enough, Thomas was knocking on James' big brown door.

James opened the door in boxers and a big shirt.

"Mister Jefferson-" he flirted.

"Hey, James, what did you want me fo-" James cut him off by crashing their lips together.

Thomas was set back, but his eyes fluttered shut and his hands roamed to James' hips.

"Missed this-" he mumbled against the smaller man's mouth.

James pulled away to catch his breath, his lips roamed to Thomas' jaw, peppering kisses along it.

"James-" Thomas groaned, his legs began to tremble.

James pulled him inside and sat him on the couch, and planted himself on the taller man's lap, kissing down his neck.

"What changed your mind?" Thomas pondered, running his skinny fingers through James' hair.

"Nothing, I still hate you." James spat, and brought his mouth back to Thomas'

Thomas let out a whine, trying to pull away from James. "I'm sorry." Thomas whispered and cupped James' jaw.

Tears formed in James' eyes, "i know." He mouthed.

Thomas brought their lips back together, but it was, different.

Not rough.

Not shaky.

Just, passionate, and loving.

James whimpered, his hands traveled to Thomas waist, "you hurt me so bad."

Thomas felt his heart wrench, "I know, I'm so terrible." Thomas held his lover close, James is all that mattered to him.

"I'm in love with you." Thomas muttered.

James suddenly went cold, his knuckles go white.

He looked up at thomas. He....

He didn't know what to do.

His heart pounded against his chest. "T-Thomas-" he began, his hands trembled.

"Yes love?" Thomas asked him.

"I... I have to go-" James blurted and sat up.

Thomas gripped James' hand "J-James?" he whispered out, his heart shattering.

James hesitated before sitting back down, he buried his head in his hands.

"I'm scared to love you again."