Alex shifted slightly on his queen sized bed. He had always been a restless sleeper, and ever since Philip had been born, he woke more often then ever. Alex, being the slightly protective parent he was, he always preferred to check on his son throughout the night. Eliza would roll her eyes at him, especially since Philip had started sleeping through the entire night. "If you wake him up during your nighttime wanderings," Eliza constantly told him, "You're the one who gets to rock him back to sleep."
Speaking of his wife, Eliza was currently on a visit to Peggy. In her absence, Alex had been having Philip sleep on the queen bed with him, surrounded with pillows so he would not roll off the bed. Reaching a hand out, Alex tenderly smoothed Philip's brunette curls, his hand brushing slightly against his son's soft forehead. As he did this, Alex frowned, testing the boy's skin again. Several seconds later, Alex had scrambled out of bed. Quickly picking up his son, who was currently making sounds of protest at his rude awakening, Alex held him to his chest as he hurried to the bathroom.
"Sorry, Pip," Alex apologized sincerely as he searched for the thermometer through the various cabinets, slightly hindered, as one hand was holding Philip. Finally finding it, the man quickly took his son's temperature. 102.3, the screen flashed. Alex stared at the number for a few seconds, before hurrying back into the bedroom, snagging Philip's favorite green blanket from the bed and tucking it around the boy. Grabbing his phone, the young man paused for a second as he thought. He could call Eliza. Alex only considered this idea for a moment before dismissing it. Eliza didn't need to be woken in the middle of the night to stress about her feverish two year old when she was several states away and unable to do anything.
Alex's finger hovered over Washington's number before pressing it. George Washington might be slightly confused and annoyed at being called at this hour, but he was fond of Alex and would understand. Right? Alex shrugged as he raised the ringing phone to his ear and tucked Philip a little more closely against his chest, feeling the heat radiate off of his boy and trying to calm his jangled nerves.
George sleepily blinked open heavy eyelids as his phone vibrated loudly from his nightstand. Blindly fumbling until his hand finally closed on the device, he squinted as he made out the caller ID.
Alex Hamilton, it read. His forehead creasing in concern, he slid the answer tab. "It's the middle of the night, Son. What's wrong?"
"Sir!" Came Alex's frantic voice from the other end. "I'm sorry about the time, but I didn't know what else to do-"
"What's wrong, Alexander?" George cut in.
A shaky exhale, then, "It's Philip. He spiked a fever."
"It's probably nothing to worry about," George reassured him. He knew that Alex had a tendency to overreact and was rather protective of his two year son. "Is Eliza there? What did she say?"
"Eliza's visiting her sister. Sir, he's pretty warm-"
"Calm down, Son," George advised him again. "Did you take his temperature?"
"102.3," came Alex's immediate reply. George could hear the young man pacing.
"It'll be okay. Keep an eye on him, but he should sweat it out."
"What if he doesn't?" Alex shot back. In between replies, George could hear Alex murmuring in French, as he often did when he was nervous. George could picture the scene clearly; Alex pacing his bedroom, Philip cradled in his arms, the phone held between his ear and neck, soothing his son in French while inwardly panicking.
"If he doesn't, you'll call Eliza or me. It'll be fine, Alex."
"If you say so, Sir," Alex finally answered. "I'll call you if it gets worse?"
"Yes, Alexander. Try not to worry too much. Kids get sick all the time." And with this, George ended the call. Settling his phone back onto his nightstand, George burrowed deep back into his covers, shaking his head in slight amusement as he mulled over the recent events.
Alex made a face as he heard George hang up. Adjusting Philip slightly, Alex carefully climbed back into bed, leaning back against the pillows. Philip was still resting easily on his chest, having now drifted off back to sleep. Alex pressed a kiss onto his son's soft brown hair before letting his eyes droop closed. "Everything will be alright, Pip," he murmured quietly.
Alexander Hamilton: a rising lawyer with a pretty wife and a pretty baby. He also happened to be a notorious worrier over his family.
There were worse things to be.
It's been said that Alexander Hamilton was a "chronic worrier, an emotion perhaps held over from his childhood". I love "Dad Hamilton", and I love sick Hamilton kids, so putting them together just makes sense, right? I think fatherly-ish Washington can be cute, too.
Reviews are appreciated.