*WARNING* *WARNING* THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A PRETTY VIOLENT PANIC ATTACK AND A REALLY SHITTY JEFFERSON TAKING ADVANTAGE OF IT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

This chapter's theme is 'What if Hamilton didn't go as willingly to Jefferson's Compromise Meeting as the soundtrack implies?'

"Hamilton, I have a proposition for you."

Alexander glared up at the man perched atop his desk, quill threatening to snap between his fingers. "Get off my desk, Jefferson."

Jefferson feigned hurt. "Ooh, so prickly. That will do you no good. Especially with what I'm about to offer."

"I don't give a flying fuck about your handouts. Get off my desk, get out of my office, and stop bothering me. Go do something productive for once. Like removing that stick from your ass."

Jefferson's face hardened for a brief moment, before fading into one of a nonchalant ease. "Alright. Alright, I'll go. I mean, us meeting up to compromise for your dept plan was never going to work anyway." He paused, glancing at Hamilton with a smug smirk, an expectant look in his eyes.

Hamilton's writing didn't even stutter. In fact, he wrote faster. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

Jefferson sighed, finally slipping off the desk. He made a show of brushing off his flamboyant purple coat. "You're missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Hamilton. I'm willing to tolerate your presence and work out a compromise. You sure you're willing to pass that up?"

"Fuck off." Alexander looked up. "You're insane if you think I'm going to bow down to your wishes in this 'compromise'."

"You won't 'bow down' to anything! It's a compromise, Hamilton! Or are you so stubborn you don't know the meaning of the word?"

"Suck my ass, Jefferson." He had to stifle a laugh at his rival's expression. "The only reason you're trying so hard to get me to agree to this is because you clearly have a 'compromise' in mind already. I doubt you'll stray from it. So, by denying you my consent for this compromise, I may not get what I want, but you sure as Hell won't get you want." Now, he wore the smug grin, Jefferson's face morphing into one of outrage.

"You're willing to risk your plan, the thing you've been working on since the war, just to deny me?"

"That about sums it up, yes."

Jefferson snorted, not believing his ears. "Insupportable bâtard. Baiseur têtu."

"Je ne savais pas que vous étiez si habile à vous décrire," Hamilton deadpanned.

The dark-skinned man made his way toward the office door. "You're making a mistake.

Alexander didn't even look up. "I doubt it."

____________________________________________________________

It was beginning to grow dark out, and Hamilton was still scribbling furiously at his desk, though his eyelids were beginning to droop with fatigue. He absent-mindedly rubbed at them, sighed, then began to pack up, figuring Washington would be livid if he didn't get some decent rest, judging by the last time the president discovered he was sleep-deprived.

There was a knock at his door. He looked up sharply, then grinned. "Madison!" His eyes narrowed. "Jefferson's not with you, is he?"

The elder man shook his head. "No, just me. May I come in?" Alex nodded his consent, and Madison slowly took a seat across from him. There was an awkward, slightly tense silence spanning between the two for a long time, until Madison sighed. "Listen...Alex, in all honesty, I think your plan is ingenious. It's brilliant! I don't know how you ever came up with it."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "If that's so, why do you continue to back Jefferson? Why do you refuse to let it pass?"

"Because, Alexander, it's too centralized on the government! We fought for freedom, and now that we have it, you want to build up another oppressive government, by our own hand! I can't allow it!"

"A strong government doesn't mean it's oppressive! You saw what happened with a government too weak, we were a disaster with the Articles! We still are a disaster, so deep in debt we're about to drown! We need a way out, at the same time earning ourselves some social standings in the world! I have the solution, yet your party refuses to let it pass!" Hamilton was fuming by the time he was done speaking, a familiar fire burning in his eyes.

Madison pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning before dropping his hand. "Alex, please, if you'll just meet with Jefferson-"

"Ah." Alexander's voice was suddenly dead, emotionless. "So that's what this is about. What, is Jefferson using you to convince me to go to his stupid meeting? It's not going to work. I refuse. Go tell that egotistical bastard that he can shove his compromise so far up his slave-holding ass he'll be picking shit and paper out from between his teeth for a month." His eyes were smoldering.

The dark-skinned man sighed, standing. "You won't change your mind?"

"Never."

"Alright. But, just for the record, I did try. Remember that." Alex opened his mouth to question him, but all that came out was a strangled cry of surprised indignance as Madison lifted him out of his chair and pinned him to the floor, quickly tying his wrists behind his back and binding his ankles together before tucking the writhing man under his arm and walking out of the office.

"Madison, what the actual fuck do you think you're doing! This is kidnapping! Let go of me right fucking now or I swear to God I'll-mmph!"

Madison slapped his free hand over Hamilton's mouth, muffling him. He made an outraged noise and began to struggle harder, forcing Madison to shift his grip. "Hamilton, please don't make me gag you."

He stopped moving immediately, and the elder man dropped his hand. "You wouldn't fucking dare." His voice was practically a growl, full of dangerous warning. His eyes were practically glowing in the dark.

"Try me."

In true Hamilton fashion, the second they got outside, Alex started screaming and squirming like a fish out of water. He didn't actually call out for help, his pride wouldn't allow it, but that didn't stop him from making enough to noise to sound like someone was being murdered. He continued to struggle in Madison's grasp as the bulkier man raced toward the coach waiting for them, emblazoned with Jefferson's coat of arms. He tossed the still-screaming Hamilton in first, quickly climbing in himself. He shoved a handkerchief in Alex mouth, hand covering it to keep him from spitting it out as he writhed, trying to dislodge the large hand. Thinking fast, he tugged the cravat from around Hamilton's neck and tied it around his head as the young secretary kicked out at him, eyes squeezed shut and muffled curses bouncing around the carriage as it rolled forward.

When he was done, Madison quickly got out of Hamilton's range. He kept struggling, jerking at the ropes and eventually falling onto his back, bucking and arching his back, muffled grunts and obscenities escaping more often than not. Madison just watched in slight, hesitant amusement. Even from this angle, he could see Alexander's eyes seethe as he kicked against the coach's door. Finally, they reached their destination. The coach rattled to a halt, and Hamilton bolted upright, locking eyes with Madison. The Congressman suppressed to urge to cringe away. The Wrath of Alexander Hamilton was something to witness, but he never knew just how terrifying it was to be on the receiving side of it.

Steeling his resolve, however, he reached toward the smaller man. He paused when Alex jerked away, snarling through the gag. Madison sighed. "Alex, I'm not going to hurt you." He reached for him again, causing Hamilton to curl farther into the corner, growling low in his throat. He looked much more liked a cornered, feral animal than the brilliant, smart-ass of a man that gave Madison and Jefferson such a continuous headache. Without warning, Madison snatched Hamilton from the carriage and bolted out of it, Hamilton shrieking and writhing as the dark-skinned man slung him over his shoulder, hurriedly knocking on the door of Jefferson's New York home.

When Jefferson opened the door, his jaw dropped into a shocked expression at the sight before him before it curved into a grin, ushering Madison inside. The elder secretary led them to a lavish dining room, pointing at a chair sitting across from two others, and Madison dropped Hamilton gracelessly in it. The young immigrant glared at the two Virginians as they stood behind their respective chairs across from him. He looked truly disheveled, panting hard. His hair, normally so pristinely held up by a loose ponytail, was falling into his eyes, framing his face and in general a frizzy mess. His eyes burned with the rage of a thousand suns, darting between the two of them as if predicting who will make a move first.

Of course, Jefferson didn't last long. His lips slid upwards to form a smirk. "I see someone was problematic," he said, looking Alexander up and down. The man in question's eyes narrowed, tugging on his bonds as Madison laughed.

"You have no idea. He's hard to keep a hold of. Kept screaming, too."

"I can imagine." Jefferson circled around the table till he was standing behind Hamilton. He noticed the way the man tensed up at his approach, spine stiffening, his panting becoming harsher. He trailed a hand over Hamilton's shoulder before looking back to Madison. "What do you say we hear what he has to say, hm?" And with that, he tugged the cravat down around his neck, moving back to his spot.

Alex took a moment to spit out the soaked handkerchief, letting out a loud, hacking cough afterwards. When he caught his breath, his face immediately hardened. "You," he spat, locking eyes with Jefferson, "are fucking dead."

Jefferson feigned shock, gasping and placing a hand on his chest, eyes widening, before he broke, face becoming a blank slate of emotion. "I told you, Hamilton. I wanted to meet, discuss our options. With your consent or not." He took his seat, Madison following suit, and folded his hands together. "So. Let's discuss."

Alexander's scowl twisted into a wry smile. "I hope you realize the second I am out of this room I am going to ruin you. You kidnapped me. Imagine how fast you both'll lose your jobs when the public gets ahold of your business ethic, what Washington will do. You forget, I'm a lawyer, Jefferson. When we're done here, your life as you know it is over."

"When we're done here? Does that mean you'll hear us out?"

"I don't have a choice."

Jefferson laughed. "I suppose you don't." Hamilton's mouth drew into a tight line when the taller man revealed a rolled-up piece of paper, smoothing it out across the table. After sharing a glance with Madison, Jefferson leaned back in his chair. "We are willing..." He was hyperaware of Hamilton's eyes studying every move he made. "...to let you pass your debt plan, as is, if you give us the United States capital, right on the Virginia-Maryland border."

There was dead silence. Then, abruptly, Alexander barked out a laugh, much to the Virginians' shock. "I said I would hear you out, seeing as I am here very much against my will." He leaned forward, crooked grin on his face. "But, even if I was planning on complying here, what in God's name makes you think I'd agree to that? I happen to enjoy New York. If you're so homesick, Thomas, you can go back anytime you want! That would benefit the both of us so much more! I wouldn't have to stare at your stupid, ignorant, arrogant face every day, and you get to be home, 'creating', fucking your slaves." He sat back, taking great pride in watching Jefferson's face darken as rage crossed over it.

Jefferson was shaking when he stood sharply, chair scraping along the floor. "You loud-mouthed, hot-headed, piece of shit-" He started toward where Hamilton sat, vaguely aware of Madison scrambling out of his seat to hold him back. "Let me go, Madison! James, get the Hell off me!" He fought in his friend's grasp, his vision tunneling so all he could see was Hamilton's smug little grin, defiance bright in every feature on his face. Jefferson just wished he could knock that stupid expression of the young immigrant's face, watch his head snap to the side, watch the bruise bloom-

Oh. Realization clicked in Jefferson's brain and he went slack in Madison's grasp. Hesitantly, his friend released him, taking a few steps back. Hamilton arched an eyebrow. Jefferson drew a calming breath, smoothing down his magenta coat. "No. I refuse to let you provoke me, Hamilton. I refuse to lay a hand on you, to fan the fire."

"Ah, il y a donc un cerveau dans ce crâne épais! Peut-être que cela aurait plus de présence si vous atténuiez cette coiffure ridicule." Madison placed a hand on Jefferson's shoulder as his eyes flashed at Hamilton's words. Reeling in his anger, he turned and stiffly walked back to his seat, Madison on his heels. The tension was so thick it was nearly suffocating as Jefferson and Hamilton locked eyes, electricity sparking between them, equally stubborn and unwilling to bend.

"What," the elder Virginian managed to grind out through clenched teeth, "would you consider a fair deal? I am still willing to negotiate despite you grating, abrasive personality." He forced a tight smile.

"First off, I would like the use of my limbs back. Mind granting me that? Or are you too worried you'll say something you'll regret and I'll ruin your pretty little face?" He stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, and Jefferson had to lock his jaw in order to bite back a retort, gesturing to Madison. The bulkier man stood, obeying Hamilton's wishes. Jefferson took note of how Alexander rubbed his wrists, red, angry abrasions evident encircling the tender skin. He took the time to redo his cravat, staring the two dark-skinned men down all the while. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Secondly, I have a proposition of my own." Jefferson raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Hamilton bolted.

Jefferson immediately tore after him. The Caribbean man didn't get far before he was tackled to the ground, pinned beneath Jefferson's weight. He winced, choking back a cry of pain as Jefferson gripped his wrists tight. Still, he fought hard, writhing and trying to throw the other man off of him. "Get the fuck off me, Jefferson! I want no part in your delusional compromise, just let me go! Connard! Mère baiseur! I will ruin you, you sans émotion, égoïste, soulless, poor excuse for a human being! I-" Jefferson brought his hand, formerly propping his body up, around and slapped it to Hamilton's mouth, ignoring his shriek of outrage. Lying completely prone over Hamilton's body, he glanced over his shoulder at Madison, grinning madly.

"I can see why you gagged him! I knew he could talk but-ow!" He jerked his hand away, staring briefly at the teeth marks indenting the palm before hauling Hamilton onto his feet and forcing him back toward the dining room. "You aren't going anywhere," he hissed. "Not until you sign."

"Suck my dick, Jefferson," was Hamilton's snarled reply. He was shoved roughly back into his seat, Jefferson holding him down as Madison rebound him, this time to the chair itself. He squirmed and bucked, the chair thumping against the floor as he strained, fists curled, knuckles white. "I fucking hate you," he spat, glaring at Jefferson with a newfound loathing.

"What a pity," Jefferson drawled.

A small smile graced the State Secretary's face as watched Hamilton struggle and jerk in his bonds, circling slowly back to his seat, revealing a quill and inkwell stored in his coat, and setting them down directly in Alexander's line of sight, pushing the unsigned compromise in front of them. "Come on, Hamilton. No need to drag this out any longer than you already have. Just give us the capital, and you can walk away with your 'assumption plan'. It's really quite a generous offer." Hamilton said nothing, just stared at Jefferson with undisguised hatred and defiance.

"No."

"Oh, come on, Alexander! Don't be such a child!" Jefferson banged a fist on the table. Just then, a loud CRACK! of thunder shook the room, making all three men jump. Soon after, the steady thrum of rain began to sound, signaling the start of a storm. He looked up, smile softening. "Ah, I do love the sound of rain, don't you? It's...calming." When he drew eyes back down to meet Hamilton's, Jefferson actually took a step back in shock. The young secretary's eyes, always burning with intelligence, were blown wide and glazed over with what he could describe as fear. Pure, unadulterated terror. Thunder sounded again, and Hamilton flinched, curling in on himself as much as he could.

The second Alex remembered he was tied down, he began to thrash, violently writhing in his bonds. His harsh, ragged breathing echoed in the dead-silent room, hitching whenever thunder boomed. He grew more frantic every second, the world fading around him and suddenly he was seventeen again, staring at what remained of his home, water everywhere and the bodies oh God the bodies they were everywhere the stench making his eyes water and oh God everything hurt why couldn't he have drowned as well he didn't want to see this-

A sharp stinging sensation on his cheek jolted Hamilton back to the present, tears running down his face, blood down his wrists as the already aggravated skin was rubbed completely raw. Jefferson was standing in front of him, shaking him, screaming at him.

"Hamilton! Hamilton, calm down! What the Hell has gotten into you! Pull yourself together, Hamilton!"

He flinched away from his rival's touch, whimpering as the panic and the memories began to completely overwhelm him. "Let me go! You have to let me go, please, let me go! Jefferson, Thomas, please, James let me go I can't I can't the bodies please I just want to go home!"

"Bodies?! What the Hell are you talking about? You need to stop struggling, for God's sake, Alexander, you're making yourself bleed! Plus, you're not going anywhere until you sign the damn compromise!"

Hamilton was in complete hysterics at this point, each clap of thunder sending a fresh wave of sobs, a fresh wave of pain and memories, wracking through his small frame. "Fine! Fine, I'll sign the compromise, I'll do anything, I won't tell anyone about tonight, I don't care, just let me go!"

Madison pushed Jefferson to the side, holding a small knife. When he approached the panicking man, he couldn't help but cringe away when Hamilton flinched away, a series of whines, and whimpers flying from his mouth. He muttered a quick "sorry" before bringing the blade to the ropes, ignoring Alexander's hoarse, strangled sob, thrashing harder. "Jefferson, hold him down! He's not in his right mind, I-I don't want to hurt him accidentally!" For the first time in his life, Jefferson obeyed without a word, in a state of shock at seeing his long-time rival, despising each other the moment they saw each other, reduced to this. He held Hamilton's arms down while Madison quickly sawed through the ropes. In no time Hamilton was standing, already racing out the door when Jefferson, coming to his senses, gripped his arm.

"Sign the compromise." He ignored Madison's disapproving scowl and snort beside him. Hamilton didn't even protest, scribbling his name messily across the bottom of the paper and then he was gone, leaving the two Virginians in shock.

"What...what just happened?" Madison sounded dazed, confused.

"I have no idea but..." Jefferson held up the paper, Hamilton's rushed signature a dark stain. He grinned. "...I do believe we have a capital to build."

I am so very very proud of the insults in this chapter.