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The streetlights shone overhead like poor excuses for stars, illuminating the sidewalks and roads for people having the misfortune of traveling so late at night. Despite the serene view without a person in sight, the wind blew harshly, whistling as it danced by on waves of its own creation. Too bad the clouds covered any trace of what was bound to be a full moon, leaving Alexander to deal with the wind alone. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his face, shutting his eyes against the torrent of chilly air whispering secrets of what was to come.
A storm was brewing.
The first drop of rain landed on the tip of his nose sending tremors of terror through his petit frame. He still had another twenty minutes before he reached the steps of his apartment. Pausing his walk, he bit the fingers of his gloves, ripping them off with his teeth so he could hastily try to push the power button of his phone. It lit up but not with the homescreen as Alex had been expecting. Instead, it simply told him that it needed to be charged.
That was bad. Very very bad. Chances of a taxi passing through at this time were slim at best and calling a ride wasn’t an option. Maybe there was someone close by that would let him crash for just long enough to ride out the storm. A glance up at the nearest street sign confirmed his suspicions.
Thomas Jefferson was lounging on his sofa, book in hand while his glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The wind howled outside the shelter of his apartment, rain pelting the glass and created a soothing symphony he had always found to be quite pleasant. Therefore, there was no better time to take out his book and catch up with the characters he’d missed oh so dearly.
A knock at the door jostled Thomas from the inferitating speech the antagonist decided to speak and he had no choice but to dogear the page and set the book down. After fixing his hair and making sure he didn’t look like complete shit, he finally opened the door.
“Hamilton?” He asked in surprise, staring at the sopping wet figure just beyond his apartment door, his eyes hardly masking his bewilderment. Hamilton’s eyes were alight with fear and his tiny body shook with what Thomas guessed to be chills from the rain. Despite going to have let him in anyways, the little demon shoved his way past Thomas without a hint of politeness, tiny droplets of water creating a mini creek in his mad frenzy to get inside.
“Bathroom?” Hamilton called out like a lost puppy, his normally confident voice missing its usual bravado.
Thomas didn’t bother to analyze the abnormality before answering, “Down the hall, first right. There are towels in there and don’t forget to clean up out here.” He was fairly sure his response got lost as soon as the door being slammed shut sounded.
Alex slammed the door shut, stripped off his sopping wet clothing and turned the tap in the bathtub, anxiously waiting for it to warm. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his house, didn’t care that he was in the residence of his worst enemy. There were things crowding his thoughts he’d hoped to have banished long ago but that seemed beyond impossible. At least the tap water helped to block out the sounds of rain bombarding the exterior of the building.
While he waited, he fixed his hands on the edges of the sink, staring into the mirror. He saw himself. His hair was dripping, plastered to itself in thick locks. His eyes were dull and gloomy like the weather outside, dark with exhaustion underneath. His lips had a bluish hue to them, the rest of him shaking from cold. Only cold. He was not admitting to the other reasons.
Deciding it had been long enough, he checked the water to find it had warmed and plugged the tub. Back to the mirror.
Only this time, he did see himself, yes, but younger, so much younger. His hair billowed about in the roaring winds of a storm. A hurricane. Water droplets of disproportionate sizes plummeted to earth, waves the size of mountains, taking back the land it had lost from its depths long ago.
The bathtub was full.
Turning off the water, he climbed into the near scalding water, letting his arms go limp at his sides. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and was consequently submerged in the memories once more.
As Alex slipped underneath the frothing waves, their depths dragged him down with icy fingers wrapping around him in every place within reach. He opened his mouth to cry out, to get help from someone, anyone, but water crowded his tongue much like a lover might. He was warm and cold all at once, the thunder clapped overhead. Even it’s rolling growls weren’t heard from beneath the surface.
He reached up, searching for something to grab onto, a hand, a stick, whatever could grant him the use of his lungs before he drowned, before he had the opportunity to change the world and have a legacy.
He was going to die. He was going to die forgotten and alone.
By now, his lungs burned with the effort to breathe through the water but with every breath he tried to take, the deeper he sank. This was it. This was the end. The end he’d worked so hard to never meet but it had only been a matter of time.
Strong arms wrapped around him, the water having gone cold, and lifted him out of it. A towel was tied around him and the strong arms returned, pulling him into the warmth of another body. “Alexander,” it whispered, “are you alright?”
Alex couldn’t remind himself of who that voice belonged to or the location of his very near drowning but, for now, he was safe. So, he shook his head.
A sigh was the response. “I’ll keep you safe,” Thomas whispered, hugging him tighter.