Chapter Text
Alex stalked closer, and Aaron backed up instinctively. His heels scraped against the floor before he even realized he was moving. His body reacted faster than his thoughts, an uncommon occurrence. Of all the ability users housed at the institute, Alex was the one Aaron had never wanted to understand. He had been warned about him before they ever met and told to keep his distance. Told never, under any circumstances, to let him copy his ability.
Now, Alex had found a way around that rule entirely, finding he could steal the abilities of others.
“Please,” Aaron said quietly, the word slipping out before he could stop it, “don’t.”
Alex tilted his head, “you know, you’d always say that when I tried to talk to you.” He sighed, “It seems more fitting now.” Aaron’s back hit the wall, and Alex planted a hand beside his head to trap him there. “You don’t want anything to do with me,” Alex said, “you never have. Let’s not pretend this is new.”
“I never said that,” Aaron murmured automatically. He knew it sounded weak even as he said it, because it wasn’t like the words were wrong. That was exactly how he treated Alex, and there was a good reason for that.
“You didn’t have to,” Alex snapped. “You avoid me, practically running away the second I’m in the same room with you. Everyone else, I can at least talk to. You?” His jaw tightened, “you decided I wasn’t worth the effort.”
Aaron swallowed, he wanted to explain, but he wasn’t sure the explanation would help. He wanted to say it wasn’t personal, that distance was safer, that getting close to people who could hurt you never ended well. Attempted explanations gave people something to argue with, something to twist and use against you. He wasn’t about to give ammunition to someone he knew had a way with words. “That’s not why,” Aaron insisted.
“Then what was your reasoning?” Aaron stayed silent, earning an eye roll from Alex. “Do you know how long I wondered what I did to make you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you,” he said quickly. Hate wasn’t the right word. Hate implied intent, and choice; Aaron didn’t choose for Alex to be the way he was, so he didn’t believe he chose to hate him.
Alex’s eyes narrowed, “you wouldn’t even make eye contact with me most of the time. You would leave rooms when I entered them. You flinched when we had to walk by each other in the same hallway. If that’s not hatred, then what is it?”
Fear, Aaron thought. Fear that had been instilled in him for almost as long as he had lived. The kind that learned early what charm could hide. The kind that didn’t wait for proof. Alex had already given him proof, having lived long enough to see him hurt everyone numerous times before now.
“I thought maybe you were just… quiet,” Alex continued, voice lowering. “Or that you didn’t like crowds. Or maybe you were just better than the rest of us, or thought so anyway.” His mouth twisted. “This is the longest we’ve held a conversation, and it’s when I’m about to strip you of your abilities. Don’t you even feel the slightest bit bad about that?”
Aaron’s chest tightened painfully. That did kind of make him seem like the one in the wrong, but that couldn’t be the case when he had never done anything to actually wrong Alex. He had never provoked him; he avoided him to protect him from… Well, Aaron’s ability, and possibly making him an even bigger monster than he always turned out to be.
“I-” Aaron’s voice caught; he didn’t know what to say to that. He forced words out, knowing they weren’t what Alex was looking for. “You’ve been stealing abilities.” Alex looked unimpressed—almost bored—by the response. “P-people are getting hurt-” Aaron had tried to continue.
“People were already getting hurt,” Alex snapped, “just not anyone you liked.”
Aaron winced before falling silent. The silence stretched so long, heavy and suffocating.
Seeming to grow anxious with the silence, Alexander demanded, “what’s your ability?”
Aaron’s heart hammered hard against his chest. He had avoided this question for so long because once spoken, it changed everything. It made him a target to people like Alex, and he’d had it drilled into his mind by the facility that it would be too dangerous to show Hamilton.
Alex’s expression hardened at his silence. “See? This is what I’m talking about. Everyone else, I know what they can do. You wouldn’t even give me that. I don’t think you told anyone.” His voice sharpened, “why?”
“I can’t-... I can’t tell you,” Aaron murmured.
“Because you think I’ll want to copy it?” Alex shook his head, “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? Your power is mine whether I try to copy it or just take it.”
Aaron drew a slow breath, steadying himself. He had known this moment would come eventually; maybe this would be the thing that finally changed something. “… I can manipulate time.”
“… Time?” he repeated, blinking.
“Yes,” Aaron watched the shift happen in real time.
First, Alex’s expression was disbelief, then recalculation, then the sudden awareness settled behind Alex’s eyes. “Did you know this is how things would end up?”
Aaron couldn’t answer. Saying yes felt like betrayal. Saying no would be a lie.
“So you did,” Alex said quietly, “has this happened before?”
Aaron pursed his lips before looking to the side, “I wouldn’t say this exact thing has happened before.”
“How many times,” Alex pressed.
“… Too many,” Aaron admitted at last, “I lost count.” The room felt smaller. He felt smaller at finally admitting how many times this had happened. “I’ve never confronted you like this before though,” he gave the smallest shrug.
“So you weren’t just distant,” Alex said, voice tight. “You weren’t just uncomfortable.” He laughed once, sharp and bitter. “I can’t believe you.”
“I was afraid,” Aaron said softly, “I still am.” Fear wasn’t wrong, not when he had such a bad track record.
Alex’s jaw clenched, “of course you are. You’re just like them. Just like everyone else.”
“Who is—that’s not fair-”
“Life’s not fair,” Alex cut in. “People like you taught me that.” His voice broke, anger spilling over into something raw and shaking. “What’s not fair is deciding I’m a problem instead of a person. I’m a person! I deserve to be treated like a person!”
Aaron’s throat burned; he knew this wasn’t his fault, but he still felt bad. He’d never seen Hamilton like this before. “I understand you’re upset-”
Alex scoffed, “no, you don’t.” He sighed and seemed to collect himself before glaring at Aaron, “and you never will because you never wanted to.”
His hand lifted to make contact with Aaron.
Aaron didn’t wait for it, not this time, and not for this. He didn’t wait to see if Alex hesitated. Time reversed in an instant. It always ended up like this. No matter how many times Aaron turned back the clock, Alex always snapped eventually. Different words, different moments, same ending. After every time, a small, bitter part of Aaron thought the same thing: I was right to be afraid. However, this time felt different. He almost felt to blame.
He stopped going back after realizing he had been distracted by his thoughts, not paying attention to just how far he had traveled. When the world settled again, Aaron nearly swayed on his feet. The first thing Aaron noticed was a young Alexander standing not too far away, talking to James Madison. Burr gave a sigh in relief at not being cornered by him or forced to speak to him right away, but then they locked eyes. Alex raised a brow at him before saying something to Madison–excusing himself, probably–then turning to him. Aaron’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for the worst.
“Hello there,” Alex greeted him with a crooked grin.
That was when it clicked. Aaron knew exactly where this was; this was when Alex had first arrived at the Institute. Except he didn’t feel this sh*tty back then, that’s probably because that was ten years ago. He’d never used his power for that long; it made his head feel like it was about to explode. “Uh… Hello,” Aaron nodded weakly.
“And your name is?” Alex prompted him with a head tilt.
Aaron hadn’t said anything the first time he’d met him here; he’d just stayed silent and walked away. At this point, he’d already been warned to avoid Alex, not given any reason why. It didn’t help that Aaron could see a familiar Frenchman who hated him walking up. “It’s Aaron,” the man–no, now boy–nodded. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Alexander. I’d stay to chat, but I see you’ve already made friends here, so let’s continue this another time.” He offered his hand for a handshake, and Alex did take it.
Lafayette watched him walk away for only a split second before Aaron could hear him say, “he must like you or something. Burr doesn’t normally do more than nod in response to being talked to.” Aaron glanced back before rounding the corner. He couldn’t hear what Alex said, but whatever it was, it was said with a sly expression. Everything he did just gave Aaron the chills, but maybe this was the secret to everything. Maybe his treatment of Alex actually did matter.