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"I have never yet heard of a murderer who is not afraid of a ghost.”- John Curran
Alexander tried. He tried to free himself, to make some noise while the FBI agents were at Thomas’s door. When he saw the SUV pull onto the gravel the first thing Thomas did was grab him. Alexander fought against his hold, yelling up a storm but it was to no avail. No one heard him. Thomas had him on the floor in the blink of an eye, tied his hands and feet together.
“Now you stay here.” He whispered with deadly calm, tying a rag around his mouth. “While i go speak to them.”
And he fought against the bonds as he heard Thomas answer the door.
“We’re investigating the disappearance of Alexander Hamilton. We’ve been questioning all of your neighbors.”
Alexander starts in surprise. The FBI is looking for him? How does anyone know where to find him? How did they know to come here? Could it have been because of Lily’s phone call? They managed to trace it? Even then how do they know he is missing? He made quite sure when he left New York in the middle of the night that he didn’t want anyone to find him.
“Hamilton? He was one of our trash guys right?” Thomas fakes confusion and Alexander thrashes. If only he could roll and knock something over. His body is too taught to move and so he works his jaw. If he can get the gag off he can yell. Hearing him sound so nonchalant, so calm and collected makes Alexander’s blood boil. How dare he stand there and speak about him in such a way.
“Folks around here don’t really have much else to do but get friendly with people. What would you like to know?”
He strains his ears hoping to catch more of the agents words to give him a clue of how on Earth they ended up looking for him here. He’s feet away, he needs to do something. With renewed vigor he works to roll himself on his side.
“I don’t know anything personal.” He catches the tail end of Thomas’s sentence, too caught up in his own plans to have been paying attention to what had been said. He’s going to kill him, he’ll strangle that fucker in his sleep.
“Well Mr. Jetts thank you for your time, have a wonderful rest of your day.”
They’re leaving! He struggles, kicks, and groans in exasperation as he hears the front door slam closed and Thomas’s form fills the doorway. “Well wasn’t that interesting?”
Alexander bares his teeth around the gag to show his frustration and Thomas smirks. “In case you were wondering they don’t know you’re here yet.” He’s trying to play it cool but Alexander has known him for a while, he can see it in the set of his shoulders and the angle of his mouth and the way he stands. Thomas is panicking.
“I suppose i should untie you.” Thomas says, but he makes no move too. Alexander’s entire body aches from being pulled so taut and he whines pitifully as Thomas flops onto the couch. “I need to think Lexi. What am i going to do if someone finds us? We’ll have to leave won’t we?”
He reaches down and runs a hand through Alexander’s hair as though he is merely a dog .
“I don’t know why anyone is looking for you in the first place.” He murmurs. “Who could possibly care about a nobody, broke, trash truck driver?”
Alexander doesn’t care who it was. All he knows is that somebody noticed, somebody knows, somebody cares.
“You understand now why you cannot be allowed outside?” He looks at him fondly. “Someone might see you.”
He reaches down and swiftly unties Alexander’s gag. “You could just let me go.” He whispers, knowing in a high stress moment like this it is better to be calm.
Thomas shakes his head. “There are far worse monsters out there than I, Alexander. Men who delight in so much more sadistic means of torture. Men who look at their victims as though they are nothing.” The hand in his hair is still petting. “My victims mean something, they are the means to an end.”
“You aren’t better than anyone.” Alexander reminds him. “Rape and murder are serious offenses. Just because you tell yourself there is some other reason for it to happen or because of your past doesn’t justify it.”
Thomas stands. “I think i ought to leave you down there a little longer to think about all of this.”
“YOU CAN’T KEEP ME CHAINED TO YOU FOREVER THOMAS!”
He ignores the loud protests as he leaves the room and descends the stairs into the basement where Lily is tied to the table. Her eyes are on him and she begins to thrash and yell. Thomas seats himself beside her and waits until she has calmed herself down.
“Goodness such spirit!” He laughs. “You never give up fighting do you? The two of you are alike in that way.” He points to the ceiling indicating he is speaking about Alexander.
“But you have also caused me some great strain Lillian. I have federal eyes now that may turn on me very soon because of what you have done.”
“Good.” She spits. “I hope they find you. I hope they fucking kill you. I hope you rot.”
“And they say i am cruel.” Thomas looks at the ceiling. “You know that is the truly extraordinary thing about the complexity of mankind and its morals. When did we decide what was cruel and what was kind? What is torture and what is mercy? What is good and what is evil?”
She doesn’t answer right away and Thomas stands. “See when i was a young boy growing up my own childhood was less than average.” He examines the tools on the table. “I had an abusive father and a mother who was virtually powerless to do anything about it.” He examines a long sutured knife. “When I was 8 years old my mother was found dead.” He looks over at her. “She killed herself, she gave up. She quit on me. I fucking hate quitters.”
He approaches her with the knife still in hand. “How would your daughter feel if she knew that you had abandoned her?”
Lily registers a double take. “What are you talking about?”
“That little baby girl you abandoned at the hospital.” Thomas waves the knife in front of her face. “Went through with the pregnancy but then at the hospital decided that you couldn’t take it-”
“How-”
“So you told the nurse you needed some privacy and then when no one was looking you booked it to the front door!”
“How do you know all of that?”
He slams his hands on either side of her head. “Mothers aren't supposed to quit Lillian. Mothers are meant to stick around. You make a decision, you follow through, you see it to the end.”
“It was a mistake!” Tears stream down either side of her face. “I didn’t even mean to.”
“You knew what you were doing.” Thomas speaks low into her ear. “You and every mom with a quitters attitude and every deadbeat dad out there you all know exactly what you are doing.”
“Please.” She begs. “Please, you can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I hate that goddamn word. Sorry, doesn't fix shit okay? It’s a cop out, you lazy piece of shit!”
A hand wraps around her throat and he revels in the way she gasps for breath. “But i can have both mama.” He murmurs. “You hear me? I can have both. I can show you how it felt, i can show you what he did to me. And you’ll scream and cry and beg just like i did. And you’ll know and you’ll fucking pay!” He leans in closer to her again. “And then i’ll go upstairs and hold him and he’ll whisper things to me and he’ll make everything okay. He’ll tell me everything is going to be fine.”
“Please.” She gasps for air.
“I’m sorry mother. But theres no time for that now.”
Time blurs. Sometimes he wishes he could slow it down during times like these in order to make the memories last, so that he can drown in this feeling. He shuts his eyes sometimes and just basks in it all, in the sensations and the memories and the sounds of their desperation.
“Thomas Jefferson what on Earth do you think you’re doing?”
A sharp voice catches his attention. His mother’s reprimanding. Lily who is face down and struggling in a water basin comes up for air as his grip on her loosens.
“Please, please stop. I’ll do anything please.”
He scrambles back, eyes wide looking in all directions. Where could they be?
“Look what you did to me.”
Chris Tolker whose eyes Thomas had gouged out before burying him beside a river.
“You’re not safe here Thomas, none of us are.”
Bethany Larson, in an abandoned garden.
“She knows you’re here Thomas. She’s watching you.”
Kenneth Watson. What was left of him was in a church backyard.
“She’s waiting for you Thomas. She knows what you’ve been doing. We told her what you did to us.”
“No.” He scrambles to his feet. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”
“You can stop it Thomas. It can all stop. Time will stop, everything will go away.”
“No. I can’t.”
“Yes, look at what you’ve done.”
“Look at the mess you’ve made.”
“She’d be so disappointed in you Thomas.”
“He’ll find you Thomas.”
“You’re trapped here.”
“Look at us Thomas, look at what you did.”
“I thought you loved this Thomas.”
“Shut up. SHUT UP!” He claps his hands over his ears breathing hard. He feels like he’s treading water as he crashes his way up the stairs, half blindly as he alternates between squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of images to making sure he’s going where he needs to.
Alexander bound on the floor.
“Help me.” He’s in tears as he falls to his knees. A knife pulled from his pocket render the ropes useless. “Make them go away. Collapsing in his arm. He shakes as they swirl around him.
“He hates you.”
“He wishes you were dead.”
“He doesn’t love you, how could he?”
‘It’s your fault she’s dead.”
“Look at what you’ve done.”
“It’s not true.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Tell them it’s not true.”
But Alexander, whose blood is still trying to circulate, can do nothing but hold him there on the floor absolutely dumbstruck and powerless.
“Please.” Thomas is crying now. “Please, I can't. Please leave me alone. Mama help me please.”
“She’s gone.”
“She’s dead.”
“It’s all your fault.”
“You killed us, you killed her.”
“No. No I didn't.” “Thomas?”
This voice sounds closer, warmer, more familiar. Thomas follows it. “Thomas get off of me, i can’t breathe.”
And it all floods in. Alexander. Warm, sweet, kind, light, beautiful Alexander. Alexander who keeps the bad things at bay. Alexander who like his mother had a smile that lit up an entire room and a heart that never wavered. Alexander who is pushing at him with insistent hands now. Alexander who he reaches down to grip his face between his hands and kiss as tenderly and yet as hard as he can.
And Thomas remembers Maria and how her kiss had been awkward and clumsy. And he remembers Freddie and how the kiss had been eye opening and slightly nerve wracking. And he thinks about how right now he feels like there is no gravity except for the small space that they are sharing at this very moment. The only thing keeping him grounded is this kiss.
He pulls away and Alexander speaks.
“What the fuck are you doing!?”
“I’m not going to let you go, we’re chained to each other, remember?”
And he is so exhausted that he slumps right there. If Lily dies from the water in her lungs then it’s alright with him. If she manages to survive, let her drag her way up here. She won’t get very far anyway.
“Laying here with you is all of the clarity I need.” Thomas confesses. “Even if you hate me, even if this means I'm going to have to do something so we can get the hell out of here before they find you. You’re not the means to my end or any end`.You’re only the beginning.”
“Even beginnings eventually give way to other things.” Alexander cannot find it in him to try and stand. “They cannot last forever.”
“You will Alexander. People like you never die, they live on in the hearts of those who truly love them.”
Their eyes meet and Alexander sighs. “Please don’t say you love me.”