[ After another hour or so, NOT BECAUSE MADISON WAS DELAYING, he
was being rushed around delicate tech and was not allowed to have his phone
with him. When he sees the text, he says, immediately,
]
It wasn't your fault.
[ After a
couple of minutes, the name and address of the hospital. ]
[Well fuck delicate tech because Jefferson has been glaring at the phone for an hour here. He was on his way to tell the driver to just get him to all the nearby hospitals but he doubted they'd offer any information about their patients so freely anyway. So when the text comes he simply lets himself slide down the seat in relief as he dictates the hospital's name to his driver.
And he ignores the first text. He knows it's a lie, anyway.
He simply walks over to the room once he gets there. And just... waits right on the door without coming in. The door is open, so Madison can more than clearly see him just standing there. But it's like he's glued there.]
[ Not necessarily a lie. Maybe halfway a lie. Not Thomas's fault
that a stupid stomach bug chose tonight to hit Madison, with dysentery and
throwing up and everything.
It may be a little
bit Thomas's fault that Madison didn't bother to even think about taking
care of himself until he was dehydrated and really, really not okay. That
last text was basically before he collapsed in the middle of the hallway as
he was finally going to at least go home.
Thank god
for helpful interns, right? They called 911 and got him all settled and
everything.
Now he's mostly lying curled up on his
side, IV hooked to his arm as he's staring into space with just.
Resignation.
And then he catches sight of motion, and
his eyes slowly travel to the door. Then widen, and then squeeze closed,
his body sort of sagging into the bed. His voice shakes, but it's also
warm, so warm. ]
Yo. [He lets out his name like a breath and Thomas finds himself kind of tumbling his way inside. What is he supposed to say? 'I needed time away from you so I could feel less like I was drowning but I don't want you to die'?]
[ No hesitation. And yes, that one probably would
work. It would have also worked if you'd sent it, oh, when you first didn't
pick up the phone, what, fifteen hours ago? Sixteen? It doesn't matter. It
really doesn't.
Though actually... having Thomas
there, the tension in his jaw, in his shoulders, all over the familiar, fit
frame? It makes Madison's mind kick right back into gear. And no, he wasn't
trying to kill himself or anything like that. He just. Couldn't think about
feeling like crap or throwing up bile, it just seemed
insignificant.
Now it suddenly isn't, and, on top of
the emotional tenterhooks he's been trying to ignore and suppress for so
long? He kind of feels bruised on the inside. His voice actually sounds a
shade weaker, though his eyes are just as intense on Jefferson.
]
Please, take a seat. If - if only for a little while. I won't keep
you if you need to go, just. Just for a little while.
[Thomas is already looking for the chair the moment Madison asks, he doesn't need to ask twice. But that's the problem: the moment he's around Madison, the moment he begins to ask things Thomas isn't going to be able to control himself, or deny himself any longer.]
I don't have anywhere to go. [Anywhere important enough, anyway. Madison who controls his calendar will probably be able to tell the difference.]
I just wanted to check on you. See you were okay with my own eyes. [Put the image of a hurting Madison in his mind, so he sees it every time he closes his eyes. So he knows he's to blame, and the levels of destruction he brings.]
[ Madison swallows, his mouth way too dry, and his chapped lips stretch a bit as he smiles self-deprecatingly. This, this part on his end at least is familiar. ]
I'll be fine. Fast-working stomach virus, added to my immune system? Dehydration and nausea that's still pretty bad, but it's nothing that I haven't lived through before. Just one of those days, you know?
[ Not your fault. It's not even an emphasis that Madison puts on the words, more like the lack of it, how like so many times before his voice sounds.
The thing is, if Thomas hadn't come back, he probably would have rallied up and pulled through. It's just sooner and better when Thomas is right by his side. Even if Madison doesn't reach a hand over. For one, he's not sure if there's no somehow some bile left coating his fingers or something. For another, he's not sure of moving won't send him retching again. ]
[Jefferson is no germophobe, but he's very aware of all the different kind of bacteria and virus crawling around, waiting to get into you with every handshake. It's once again one of the reasons he dislikes hospitals so much, the other reason is all the bad memories attached to them. He still reaches to squeeze Madison's shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture.]
Glad to see you're going to be okay. [Even if he does look pretty miserable right now.] You should have told me it was an emergency.
[ Jefferson is awkward, and unhappy, and it's his fault, and Madison can see that all too clearly. He wants to dig his nails into the flesh of his palm, but his hands are way too clearly visible, so he just swallows. Shakes his head very slightly because anything more will stir up tho nausea. ]
It wasn't when I texted you last. [ Let's not mention the more than a dozen unanswered calls and twice that unanswered texts, and how that might have meant that Thomas didn't want to know, right? ] I was just going to go home and rest.
[ Well, the last part was just sort of a vague idea, probably curl up around the toilet and possibly drift off when his stomach settled a little. Or something. Rest as such was difficult to contemplate.
[It's cute when Madison still acts like Jefferson being a huge hypocrite is a surprise. Really.]
Do you need to rest now? I can wait until you fall asleep. [And then disappears into the shadows, he doesn't say. Somehow it's still screamed into the conversation, loud and clear.]
Madison sighs, squeezing his eyes so hard it hurts, but then opens him right back again, because, of course Thomas will leave again. So might as well keep looking at him now. That's. That's fine, isn't it? That's okay? ]
I guess... [ I guess this wasn't what you were looking for, after all. Except Madison knows that saying that would be a mistake. One that maybe neither of them will recover from. Thomas is here, and that means - some things, and not necessarily others. It means that, for all Thomas left, and will leave again, e's not - e's not given up on him. He's not ready or willing to cut Madison off, and trying to hold him up beyond that, well.
Then Thomas really might leave and never turn to look back. And that would be bad. Very bad. ]
[He says with a smile, because no one is a better actor than Thomas Jefferson when he wants to be. His only complain right now is that he's not on a swivel chair so he can't turn around like he does when he's nervous. But that would be a telltale sign, so he figures that's for the best.]
Can you read? I can read to you until you fall asleep.
[ Relaxing a notch... before that last bit comes, and Madison's eyes go wide and round. On the one hand, for all he appreciates Thomas's presence, especially this time, he really doesn't like being coddled.
On the other hand, the thought of Thomas's voice lulling him to sleep, even, or especially, knowing that he'll wake up alone? Far too tempting. ]
[A one shouldered shrug. God, this is so awkward. He hates it. He hates even more knowing it's all his fault. But he doesn't have any other options, not in his mind. All he knows, all he can focus on is how he needs to stay away. It'd be so easy, too easy to get sucked into Madison completely. To lose himself in... this, in them. He had nearly forgotten what it was to feel so strongly about someone. For once in his life he wishes he could apologize, but he can't. He can't explain himself, because he has no reason for this.
[ Madison winces at the reminder that he's sick, then even that small jolt has him closing his eyes and swallowing back bile, ugh. He takes deep breath, and when he opens his eyes again, they are clear, focused. Determined. This is not going to beat him.
(That is not going beat them.)
He uncurls one arm from around himself, unlocking his phone and browsing briefly to his kindle app. He could argue and make Thomas choose, but why? He's too exhausted to argue, and, even more doesn't want to waste what time he has with Thomas over it.
After a moment, he holds out his phone. It's random, ish, the first thing he could think that wouldn't bore Thomas painfully.
When Thomas reaches for it, Madison surrenders the phone easily, but then also squeezes Thomas's wrist. It'll be okay. Just with touch only. ]
[Thomas looks at the wrist, at Madison's fingers touching his skin. He looks at the phone, but he doesn't really see it. Doesn't even really grab it. Just that touch, just that little thing is enough to ground him. To make him focus. He's always reaching for Madison, always hovering around him and because Madison doesn't seem to mind his endless amount of energy and random burst of needy affection. But the times where Madison initiates the contact are way, way fewer. And because of that, way more meaningful.
He remembers how he felt when they were texting. He remembers thinking he couldn't just run away from Madison, that he never could. That he was painfully aware that he couldn't do this on his own.
So why are you trying to run?.
Good question, self. Sharp as always.]
I miss you. [He talks to the hand. To their fingers touching. Anywhere but Madison's face.] Please, don't think I don't.
[ Thomas doesn't pull his hand away. That's good. That's actually very good, even if Madison still can't fix it. ]
I was... afraid, for a while. But now I know. Please don't actually poison yourself with alcohol [ when you go again ] because I still have things to say to you. Later.
[ Madison can point out that Thomas is going about things the wrong way. He doesn't want to escape from Madison, he wants to escape from the storm inside, but he's still running away from him. That won't work, and will hurt even more. (It hurts even more.)
But telling Thomas that will do no good. He has to realize it for himself.
[He nods, because he can't do much else. It's a miracle that he wasn't drunk (just hungover) when Hamilton told him about the news. It's probably a good thing that he wasn't in his best shape, because now Alexander's expression is just a blur in his mind and he doesn't have to decide if he saw mirth or actual sadness in his eyes. He did work together with Madison, after all, and Madison was the one to break up the relationship.
He doesn't promise he won't. He can't do that. The moment it's a promise there's a chance he'll break it, and he always (always) takes the worst possible option when it's there. He just knows it. So he can at least try. He can at least do this much for Madison, when he's taking so much away.]
[ Madison sighs, his eyes closing for a moment. Not because of the lack of promise, that's - he understands that. He understands the question, too, he's just way too drained to be able to answer it properly.
He tries, anyway. ]
I know you. [ I was selfish, I'm sorry, except he does know saying either of those will just make it worse. ]
If there's anything urgent, I'll write to your work e-mail. So check at least that.
[ I won't blindside you like this again, in other words. It's not okay, but Madison knows that Thomas can't not. Madison knows that he'll return, too, but saying that out loud may make it harder.
Saying most things may make it harder. But some are necessary. ]
I won't ... leave.
[ Thomas will have him to come back to, when - not if, when - he does.
And no, Madison's not going to die on him. He won't. ]
[Jefferson pauses, for an honestly long time. Eventually he takes the phone without looking at it, glancing at Madison. And then he simply leans over to press his lips against Madison's forehead. Yes, he's aware he's sick. But Jefferson's physique has always been miraculously healthy so he'll take the risk, just to do this.]
Try to rest, James. I'll read to you until you do.
[ Madison's shaky breath in is almost a whimper, the warmth of Thomas's lips, of his breath, against his clammy skin is like a blessing on its own, and combined with the gesture...
He closes his eyes, curling a little more in on himself, and nods. ]
Okay. I will. Thank you, Thomas. Thank you.
[ It won't take him too much to fall asleep, deep and sweet, really. He's been holding on for too long. ]
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Your pick
I should come over and help, shouldn't I.
2
Since when do you call him Alex?
~choosing my own adventure ~
Text 23/?
I just miss you.
last one;
Talked to Hamilton. No one will tell me what hospital you went to.
Re: last one;
[ After another hour or so, NOT BECAUSE MADISON WAS DELAYING, he was being rushed around delicate tech and was not allowed to have his phone with him. When he sees the text, he says, immediately, ]
It wasn't your fault.
[ After a couple of minutes, the name and address of the hospital. ]
no subject
And he ignores the first text. He knows it's a lie, anyway.
He simply walks over to the room once he gets there. And just... waits right on the door without coming in. The door is open, so Madison can more than clearly see him just standing there. But it's like he's glued there.]
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[ Not necessarily a lie. Maybe halfway a lie. Not Thomas's fault that a stupid stomach bug chose tonight to hit Madison, with dysentery and throwing up and everything.
It may be a little bit Thomas's fault that Madison didn't bother to even think about taking care of himself until he was dehydrated and really, really not okay. That last text was basically before he collapsed in the middle of the hallway as he was finally going to at least go home.
Thank god for helpful interns, right? They called 911 and got him all settled and everything.
Now he's mostly lying curled up on his side, IV hooked to his arm as he's staring into space with just. Resignation.
And then he catches sight of motion, and his eyes slowly travel to the door. Then widen, and then squeeze closed, his body sort of sagging into the bed. His voice shakes, but it's also warm, so warm. ]
Thomas.
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Should've asked if you wanted me here.
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I do.
[ No hesitation. And yes, that one probably would work. It would have also worked if you'd sent it, oh, when you first didn't pick up the phone, what, fifteen hours ago? Sixteen? It doesn't matter. It really doesn't.
Though actually... having Thomas there, the tension in his jaw, in his shoulders, all over the familiar, fit frame? It makes Madison's mind kick right back into gear. And no, he wasn't trying to kill himself or anything like that. He just. Couldn't think about feeling like crap or throwing up bile, it just seemed insignificant.
Now it suddenly isn't, and, on top of the emotional tenterhooks he's been trying to ignore and suppress for so long? He kind of feels bruised on the inside. His voice actually sounds a shade weaker, though his eyes are just as intense on Jefferson. ]
Please, take a seat. If - if only for a little while. I won't keep you if you need to go, just. Just for a little while.
[ He presses his lips against the babbling. ]
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I don't have anywhere to go. [Anywhere important enough, anyway. Madison who controls his calendar will probably be able to tell the difference.]
I just wanted to check on you. See you were okay with my own eyes. [Put the image of a hurting Madison in his mind, so he sees it every time he closes his eyes. So he knows he's to blame, and the levels of destruction he brings.]
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I'll be fine. Fast-working stomach virus, added to my immune system? Dehydration and nausea that's still pretty bad, but it's nothing that I haven't lived through before. Just one of those days, you know?
[ Not your fault. It's not even an emphasis that Madison puts on the words, more like the lack of it, how like so many times before his voice sounds.
The thing is, if Thomas hadn't come back, he probably would have rallied up and pulled through. It's just sooner and better when Thomas is right by his side. Even if Madison doesn't reach a hand over. For one, he's not sure if there's no somehow some bile left coating his fingers or something. For another, he's not sure of moving won't send him retching again. ]
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Glad to see you're going to be okay. [Even if he does look pretty miserable right now.] You should have told me it was an emergency.
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It wasn't when I texted you last. [ Let's not mention the more than a dozen unanswered calls and twice that unanswered texts, and how that might have meant that Thomas didn't want to know, right? ] I was just going to go home and rest.
[ Well, the last part was just sort of a vague idea, probably curl up around the toilet and possibly drift off when his stomach settled a little. Or something. Rest as such was difficult to contemplate.
It still is. ]
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Do you need to rest now? I can wait until you fall asleep. [And then disappears into the shadows, he doesn't say. Somehow it's still screamed into the conversation, loud and clear.]
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Not now. Obviously.
Madison sighs, squeezing his eyes so hard it hurts, but then opens him right back again, because, of course Thomas will leave again. So might as well keep looking at him now. That's. That's fine, isn't it? That's okay? ]
I guess... [ I guess this wasn't what you were looking for, after all. Except Madison knows that saying that would be a mistake. One that maybe neither of them will recover from. Thomas is here, and that means - some things, and not necessarily others. It means that, for all Thomas left, and will leave again, e's not - e's not given up on him. He's not ready or willing to cut Madison off, and trying to hold him up beyond that, well.
Then Thomas really might leave and never turn to look back. And that would be bad. Very bad. ]
I think I'd like it if you wait. Please.
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[He says with a smile, because no one is a better actor than Thomas Jefferson when he wants to be. His only complain right now is that he's not on a swivel chair so he can't turn around like he does when he's nervous. But that would be a telltale sign, so he figures that's for the best.]
Can you read? I can read to you until you fall asleep.
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[ Relaxing a notch... before that last bit comes, and Madison's eyes go wide and round. On the one hand, for all he appreciates Thomas's presence, especially this time, he really doesn't like being coddled.
On the other hand, the thought of Thomas's voice lulling him to sleep, even, or especially, knowing that he'll wake up alone? Far too tempting. ]
What would you... choose to read to me?
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He's just scared. And when he's scared, he runs.]
Anything you want. You're the sick one.
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(That is not going beat them.)
He uncurls one arm from around himself, unlocking his phone and browsing briefly to his kindle app. He could argue and make Thomas choose, but why? He's too exhausted to argue, and, even more doesn't want to waste what time he has with Thomas over it.
After a moment, he holds out his phone. It's random, ish, the first thing he could think that wouldn't bore Thomas painfully.
When Thomas reaches for it, Madison surrenders the phone easily, but then also squeezes Thomas's wrist. It'll be okay. Just with touch only. ]
Thank you.
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He remembers how he felt when they were texting. He remembers thinking he couldn't just run away from Madison, that he never could. That he was painfully aware that he couldn't do this on his own.
So why are you trying to run?.
Good question, self. Sharp as always.]
I miss you. [He talks to the hand. To their fingers touching. Anywhere but Madison's face.] Please, don't think I don't.
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I was... afraid, for a while. But now I know. Please don't actually poison yourself with alcohol [ when you go again ] because I still have things to say to you. Later.
[ Madison can point out that Thomas is going about things the wrong way. He doesn't want to escape from Madison, he wants to escape from the storm inside, but he's still running away from him. That won't work, and will hurt even more. (It hurts even more.)
But telling Thomas that will do no good. He has to realize it for himself.
Madison doesn't doubt that he will. ]
Keep that in mind, all right?
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He doesn't promise he won't. He can't do that. The moment it's a promise there's a chance he'll break it, and he always (always) takes the worst possible option when it's there. He just knows it. So he can at least try. He can at least do this much for Madison, when he's taking so much away.]
You know I'll leave.
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He tries, anyway. ]
I know you. [ I was selfish, I'm sorry, except he does know saying either of those will just make it worse. ]
If there's anything urgent, I'll write to your work e-mail. So check at least that.
[ I won't blindside you like this again, in other words. It's not okay, but Madison knows that Thomas can't not. Madison knows that he'll return, too, but saying that out loud may make it harder.
Saying most things may make it harder. But some are necessary. ]
I won't ... leave.
[ Thomas will have him to come back to, when - not if, when - he does.
And no, Madison's not going to die on him. He won't. ]
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Try to rest, James. I'll read to you until you do.
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He closes his eyes, curling a little more in on himself, and nods. ]
Okay. I will. Thank you, Thomas. Thank you.
[ It won't take him too much to fall asleep, deep and sweet, really. He's been holding on for too long. ]
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