Chapter Text
Thomas didn’t know this when he walked out of the House, but his world would never be the same. Or maybe, as he found himself being tugged forward by Hamilton’s—Alex’s, he corrected himself—hand on his elbow, he did, to an extent. Maybe the tingles that the warm grip on his arm sent up his spine were sending him a message.
But they weren’t telling him how his world would become both brighter and darker at once. How he would be able to see shadows that he couldn’t before, and how he would be able to feel something inside the world that he couldn’t before. He could sense things. He could smell more.
In other words (or, in Church’s words), Thomas Jefferson’s soul had been touched one too many times by a creature not of this plane of existence, and because of that, he could now glimpse into its plane. It was a handy trick, Church had assured him, but Thomas wasn’t sure if he believed him entirely.
Especially when he found himself leaping out of the way of a dark, grizzly thing and running straight into a woman walking her dog. Apologising quickly, he walked as fast as he could to the bar he was heading towards.
It had been a month since they’d defeated (“Vanquished,” Peggy called it) Andre’s ghost, and they’d all decided to meet here today. There were still days when Thomas would wake with that same sense of bone-deep dread, nightmares haunting him as they haunted the others, but the fact that he could now actually see his fears (as could the cat) reassured him somewhat.
Opening the door, he slipped inside quietly, shutting it before one of the small blobs of black goo could hop in too. He didn’t really understand how they worked; sometimes they could go through solid objects and sometimes they couldn’t.
“Thomas!” He followed the sound of chaos and shouting and found his friends taking up the entire back booth of the place, a few perched on the tables themselves. James patted the seat beside him and he made his way there, anxious to quickly sit and avoid being stared at by the rest of the customers who were bound to glance over at the sheer amount of noise they were making.
And then Alex was next to him. “You gotta try this shit,” he said, eyes manic.
“Um,” Thomas sniffed it, his supernaturally-enhanced nose now able to pick up things he didn’t even know had a scent, like dust. And water. “what is it?”
Alex crossed his arms, smiling cockily at him. “You tell me.”
This was a new sort of game with them, where Thomas was poked and prodded and dared to use his newfound senses. He’d given up trying to get out of it weeks ago, and had to admit, it was fun sometimes. “Raspberry and… bleach?!” Okay, maybe he wasn't as good at this as he liked to think, but it wasn't his fault things smelled the same.
Alex gave him an insulted look. “If I’d wanted you dead, I’d’ve just had to stay in bed instead of saving your ass.” He was never letting that go, Thomas thought in exasperation.
“You’re a prick,” Thomas informed him. “And I had it handled.”
Angelica snorted. “Yeah, you did.”
Waving his middle finger delicately at her, Thomas took a sip. Immediately, his senses were overwhelmed with the amount they could taste. It was raspberries and watermelon and the sheer taste of a drop of water that had probably gotten splashed in at some point and a lemon which was sour but also bitter and each individual droplet of the beverage had a different flavour and there were days when Thomas wouldn’t want to eat because of this and days where he had to try everything because it was exactly as Ratatouille had promised him food would be like.
Alex was giving him a questioning look. “So?” he asked. “Good, right?”
Thomas contemplated for a moment. “I’ve had better,” he said casually.
“See if I buy you any more personalised drinks, with this treatment,” Alex huffed. “Partner abuse, that’s what this is.”
John Laurens, sitting opposite Alex, snorted. “Partner abuse? Last night Gilbert took away my stuffed animal collection.”
Eliza, sitting beside him, nodded sagely. “Stuffed animals are creepy,” she said, downing a drink.
Aaron stared. “Of all people, I didn’t expect you to be the one to say no to stuffed toys.”
“Their eyes stare into your soul, and have you ever watched Coraline? That scared the shit outta me, even now.”
“Well, I know what we’re watching next movie night,” Hercules announced.
“Don’t worry, Betsy, I’ll protect you from their button eyes,” Alex said, winking at Eliza.
Thomas let the conversation wash over him, leaning back in his seat. Alex was gently holding one of his hands under the table while he talked, playing with his fingers as he gestured with the other hand, but never once letting go. And they weren’t perfect, but they were getting there. They were communicating.
And at that moment, even though Thomas could still see the shadows on the outskirts of his vision, there was brightness and light right here where was with his tight-knit family, who were capable of driving it back by sheer willpower. He could live like this, he thought. He could live with happiness like this.