Written by my friend, AteIsa

Author note: So yeah, the Werewolf AU nobody asked for! This story is definitely darker than my other fanfics before this, but it was an idea I had to try. Prepare for some angst, some violence, gore...

Oh, and sappy Washingdad fluff.

Anger, panic, worry, regret, and fear; a combination of emotions that were best not felt all at once.

But that was exactly what George Washington was feeling, nonetheless—with burning intensity, even.

George stared hard at the map which was mounted upon his office's wall, desperately trying to understand. Trying to understand that question he wanted so desperately answered:

Why did it have to be him?

George stared at the quill in his hand and clenched his fist around it. He had to find him. He couldn't just give him up, like everyone else had adviced him to do. For one thing, he was very crucial to the war. He felt too much would be at stake if they gave him up. And second, he simply just could not let him go. He refused to. Not yet.

"He's for sure dead, sir, you're going to have to replace him soon," Nathaniel Greene had chastised, looking worried.

"The boy's dead, Washington, you have to realize that he has been gone for far to long to still be alive now," Charles Lee had sighed, giving him a look.

These were the sort of things everyone kept telling him. But he was the General. He would be the one to decide when the search would be finished. No one else but him.

Snapping him out of his thoughts were several loud shouts of alarm as the crunching of boots ran through the camp quickly, crushing fallen twigs and kicking aside small stones.

George, on a whim, decided to stop brooding to check out what was going on, so he stuffed the quill into his pocket and rushed out. His eyes were immediately greeted by the sight of a crowd of alarmed aides following two men who were swiftly carrying another unconscious, limp one.

George pushed through the crowd to see who he was, his breath heaving erratically. The thin form looked familiar, yet he also looked so unfamiliar that it was alarming. George both hoped and dreaded that it was him.

But as he got closer, his hopes and fears were both simultaneously confirmed as he caught up behind John Laurens and The Marquis De Lafayette to see who they were carrying. His heart all but stopped beating completely when he saw that the unconscious man was, in fact, Alexander Hamilton himself.

George's breath caught in his throat, and he forced himself not to sob as an overwhelming rush of emotions threatened to overflow. Both relief and terrified shock pushed the tears behind his eyes as he saw his right hand man, alive and found. But..

His condition was so terrifying, George almost wished it wasn't him. His hair was in a tangle, dirt and sand making it look darker than what was natural. His face, arms, and all other exposed parts of his body was covered in scars, bruises, hardened mud, and—George gave a shuddering gasp—blood caked all over him.

George came up beside John and Lafayette, who gave him one look and immediately began speaking. "Your Excellency! Please forgive us!" Lafayette cried, stumbling as he continued running forward to, George now realized, the clinic.

"We couldn't bear waiting any longer, Your Excellency, sir!" John exclaimed. "We had to find him ourselves, and we were afraid you were going to stop us, and we do apologize for sneaking out the way we did—"

"Laurens, Lafayette, this is not the time. I need to know; where did you find him?" George cut off the violent income of unnecessary apologies swiftly as he lifted the clinic's tent flap, holding his left hand up to stop all the other following aides from entering.

He let the flap fall and skidded forward to where John and Lafayette were placing Alexander down onto a cot.

"He was tied to tree, sir." John lifted Alexander's head and slipped a pillow underneath it.

"Tied to a tree?" George echoed with a faltering voice. "Was he not guarded?"

"N-No sir.." Lafayette avoided the general's gaze, grimacing.

"He was unguarded? Are you sure it wasn't a trap?" George took the wet cloth John was offering him. He had rushed out immediately to the creek a moment ago.

"Yes, sir, we were particularly careful about that," John panted, taking off Alexander's coat with the help of Lafayette. "It took a lot longer than I had hoped, but at least we know we weren't followed."

"But—But why would those Redcoats just abandon a captive?" George wiped his face with his free hand and started to wipe Alexander down the best he could, shoving off the hardened mud and blood as gently as possible.

"I don't know.. Maybe they were done with whatever they wanted him for?" John scratched his head, his voice weak as he helped Lafayette pull off Alexander's boots.

George was silent for a moment as he cleaned his aide up. He stared at Alexander's face, which seemed to be in pain. George ran the cloth over it, but his expression did not change.

Before the three could continue talking, the doctor finally came in. Immediately, he grabbed his bag and shooed John and Lafayette away from Alexander. "Go. I can't have you two distracting my analysis."

John looked offended, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Lafayette just pulled on his friend's arm and whispered something in his ear. After a moment, John finally consented, letting him pull him away.

George stared after them, then turned back to the doctor, who was watching him with an eyebrow raised.

George shook his head. "No. I'm staying here."

The doctor, Dr. West, looked exasperated. "But sir—"

"I said no." George's voice was stern now, causing the doctor to shut up. "Besides, I'm not going to disturb you. What do you think of me?"

Dr. West went red in the face. "Of course. I'm sorry, sir."

The next few minutes were utterly silent except for Dr. West's muttering, and the occasional clinking of equipment. But after about an hour of silence, Dr. West shook his head and closed his case with a light click.

George, who had been staring into space at the wall, turned to him, a little startled. "How is he?" George asked, standing immediately.

"It's not good, Your Excellency." Dr. West bit his lips anxiously. "His heart rate is unnaturally high, and as is the case for his blood pressure. His breathing is also alarmingly uneven, sir, but there isn't much I can do."

George ran his hand over his face worriedly and nodded as he processed all this news. "Alright," He managed. "Thank you." He nodded at the doctor in thanks, who nodded in reply and left.

Pulling his chair closer, he studied the boy's face.

George had never seen Alexander so restless in his entire life, and he had seen him restless quite a lot of times. What could those Redcoats have done to him that caused him to be like this?

He pulled Alexander's long hair off of his face and sighed. George rubbed his own eyes, which were moist. He just wished that Alexander would wake up, then this whole nightmare could be over.

George didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but the next thing he new, he was suddenly awakened by a low growl. When he opened his eyes, he saw Alexander stirring slightly. He yawned, something in his mouth shining against the candlelight brightly. George narrowed his eyes and tried to peer inside, but Alexander snapped his mouth shut too quickly.

Then he opened his eyes.

George broke into a wide smile. "Alexander."

The young secretary looked around, then spotted George sitting near him. Alexander blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Uhh, hi?" He murmured, gingerly clutching his head and grimacing.

George turned and called out to the nearest aides, "Please find John Laurens and The Marquis De Lafayette and tell them to come here!"

Almost immediately afterwards, John and Lafayette came running into the tent with panicked expressions on their faces. But the panic immediately melted away and was replaced by huge grins of joy when Alex looked up at them in surprise.

"Alexander!" They cried simultaneously, rushing to him. They both wrapped their arms around him, and Alex was almost knocked backwards and off the cot by the force of it.

Alex returned the hugs, but still looked somewhat confused as he looked at his two friends. "Did I go somewhere?" He asked, turning to the General through the tangle of arms for some explanation.

George's grin slipped off his face, and John and Lafayette pulled away, staring at him in confusion. They sat beside him on the cot.

Alex cocked his head to the side. "Not that I'm ungrateful for a little appreciation of my existence," He added hurriedly, chuckling. "But.. What happened? Was I sick, or something?"

John, Lafayette, and George all stared at each other in turn with wide eyes. Did he not remember?

"Alexander," George asked gravely. "Do you really not remember?"

Alexander seemed to be becoming a little amused. "No?"

George and the other two looked at each other again.

"So.." John muttered, staring hard at his friend. "You don't remember you were captured by the British about a month ago?"

Alex made a shocked face and didn't respond.

"And," Lafayette added. "That you were gone for as long as that?"

Alex opened and closed his mouth, lost for words, then gave a weak laugh. "You're—you're kidding, right?"

George slowly shook his head, and Alexander blanched, reaching up to his head again with a trembling hand. "But—but I can't—" He let out a shuddering breath. "Eliza must be worried sick!" He whispered to himself.

George put his hand on the boy's shoulder and tightened it reassuringly. "Relax, Alexander, we'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

His voice was consoling, which helped Alex and the other two relax, but he himself was not calm at all. What did those Redcoats do to him?