A/N: Hey guys! Here is Chapter 11! I hope you enjoy:)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.
The sunlight is blinding from where it shines through the cracks in the shades, bright spots dancing along the cream colored walls. George blinks his eyes open, sitting up so fast he can hear his back crack. A snarl curls his lips as he takes in the sight of Director Meeks standing a few feet away from their sleeping forms, the shorter body of General Mulligan a little ways behind him, his face serious and apologetic.
The Director had his hand out as though he was getting ready to touch the President's shoulder, but retracts it quickly at the sight of the other Alpha's sharp teeth.
"I'm sorry for waking you up, sir, but I have some ne-" The Director begins, but is cut off by a small voice coming from George's left, Alexander blinking his groggy eyes against the white light of the sun.
"Daddy?" The small Omega asks, curling his fingers around his father's clenched fist. "What's going on?"
Turning away from Meeks, the Alpha smiles softly at his child, giving his forehead a quick kiss as he feels Martha sit up on Alex's other side, her ears perking up as she catches sight of the two other people in their room. George shares a glance with his wife, knowing that his expression of dread is mirrored in her dark eyes.
"Nothing is wrong, sweetheart." The President reassures the 12 year old, gently throwing the covers from his legs over Alexander body when he shivers. "Why don't you try to sleep for a little longer?"
But the Omega shakes his head, sitting up and leaning against his mother as his ribs protest at the movement. His stomach suddenly growls so loud that even Jim smirks, the General stifling a snicker as he glances at the in-eaten sandwiches sitting on the dresser. George gives him an apologetic look, climbing out of the bed as his wife grins lightly.
"I'm hungry." Alex says, a confused frown drawing his brows down when his parents laugh. "What?"
Shaking her head, Martha smooths down his bed head, the youngest Washington leaning into her touch as he sighs. Her voice is bright with amusement when she speaks.
"Nothing, love, do you want some breakfast?"
Getting a nod from her son, the First Lady reaches down and presses the red button on the foot of Alexander's bed. Seeing that both Omegas are fine for the time being, the President squeezes both of their hands, before starting the trek to the bathroom. Director Meeks walks at his heel, voice like rough sandpaper on the Alpha's ears.
"Sir- wait, Mr. President, I need to tell you something important! Sir-"
Rounding on the other Alpha, George growls, feeling his tail snap behind him in annoyance. His dark ears are pinned against his head, white teeth flashing.
"Give me a second, Director! I need to change and make sure my family is fed before I can concentrate, so stop with the chatter, and make sure my Pack gets breakfast."
Meeks swallows, giving the Commander a salute.
"Yes sir." He says, turning away once George releases him, shifting from foot to foot in agitation when he stops beside General Mulligan.
The Omega looks sharply at the President, knowing instinctively that he is in charge while the Alpha dresses. Giving his boss a nod in understanding, Mulligan walks over to the First Lady and Alexander, his voice becoming muffled once George closes the bathroom door.
"Ma'm, could I get you or Alexander anything to drink, some juice or milk-"
Changing quickly into a white button down shirt and black dress pants, the President brushes his teeth and washes his face. He is just tightening his green and blue striped tie when a knock at the door sounds. Growling softly to himself, George whips around and throws the door open, causing Jim to jump back in shock, the Alpha's phone almost slipping from his grip.
"Y-you left this in the car, sir." The General stutters, placing a hand over his chest pocket to try and calm his racing heart.
George steps fully out of the room, taking the electronic device as he goes. Thanking the Omega over his shoulder, the Commander presses the center button, nearly groaning in dread at the sight of over 100 non-read emails. Shaking his head, he checks the time as he slips on his shoes.
8:12 a.m.
Feeling the hum of exhaustion tingle through his body, the Alpha walks the short distance to Alex's cot, his work shoes tapping a slow rhythm against the tile floor. His son smiles around a mouthful of eggs as he nears, Martha chiding him to close his mouth and chew slower.
"Hi Dad." Alexander says once George stops at the foot of his bed, holding out his plate to the President, much to his amusement. "Do you want some eggs?"
"Alexander Washington!" The First Lady scolds, thrusting the offered plate back into her baby's lap. "You are going to finish your eggs even if I have to force feed them to you!"
Alex groans good naturally, scooping another mouthful into his mouth at the look Martha shoots him. George snickers in amusement, grabbing his own plate of eggs from the tray on the nightstand, nearly moaning in delight as the cheese flavor settles on his tongue.
His finishes his food in record time, face turning pink when he sees his wife smirk behind her cup of coffee. Taking a steaming mug from her when she holds it out, the Alpha sips it, feeling the hot liquid flow through his system, the caffeine giving him the extra boost he needed.
Alex tries to reach for a piece of buttered toast next to the eggs, but stops suddenly, bring one hand up to cover his forehead, wincing in pain as his forehead starts to sting beneath the bandages.
The gesture doesn't go unnoticed, George being quick to press the red button to summon Mary or Steven for the second time that morning. Ignoring Director Meeks as he steps closer, the President gently smooths his son's dark hair back as the 12 year old whimpers.
"Does your head hurt, sweetie?" The Alpha asks, watching as his wife takes the now empty plate from their child's clenched fist, grabbing Alexander's glass of water from the nightstand.
"Yes, and my back." Alex whimpers again, shifting on the bed as the morphine starts to wear off.
His mother holds his glass up to his dry lips, tilting it back as he takes grateful sips of the cold liquid.
"How long has it been hurting?" Martha asks once he finishes drinking, voice tight with worry.
Alexander shrugs, whining high in his throat as his ribs shriek in protest. Leaning back against his Mommy, the Omega takes deep breaths as he fight down the sudden nausea flowing through his system.
"Alexander, baby, you have to tell us when you are in pain. We can't help you if we don't know something is wrong."
But the youngest Washington doesn't respond, and George is forced to watch for the millionth time in two days as his baby grits his teeth through his pain. Martha shushes his cries, kissing his head and yipping into his ear every so often when he shivers.
George shifts closer, laying one large hand on top of his son's brown hair, running his fingers through the greasy locks as he growls softly. Alex just clenches his eyes shut, gripping the sleeve of his Daddy's white shirt tightly.
"Sir-" Director Meeks is suddenly there, standing so close to George's Omegas and reeking of Alpha that the President snaps.
Snarling, George moves to stand in front of his mate and puppy, blocking them from the Director's view. Standing up to his full height, the Alpha towers over the ginger, stepping close so that they are chest to chest. Sharp teeth flash as Meeks is pushed a few feet back, George's dark ears flattening against his head.
"I said, not right now." George growls, shuddering as he fights for control.
Suddenly, the entrance is pulled open and the Alpha snarls again, but stops when he sees Mary walk into the room, carrying a bag of clear liquid in one hand, the other holding a pair of fresh white bandages. She says something to Martha, but the Commander doesn't catch it.
Leaving the other Alpha to gasp at his back, the President pads to stand next to his wife and child, dark tail snapping behind him in agitation. Ignoring the look the First Lady sends him, George sits stiffly on the side of Alex's bed, watching with slit pupils as the female Nurse changes his baby's I.V. bag.
The Commander tenses as Mary grabs Alexander's head bandages, but relaxes once she starts to slowly take them off. The Omega critters as the clothe is pulled off, sagging against Martha as through all his energy is spent. The First Lady holds him close, wrapping both arms around him. She breathes deeply at the sound, fighting for her own self control as she feels her material instincts peak higher with every pain filled whimper and whine. Groping blindly, she grabs her Alpha's hand tightly in her own, knowing that they both needed something to ground them.
Once all red stained cotton is pulled off, Mary applies more ointment to the long gash, giving a nod when she deems it satisfactory. Alexander flinches away from her touch for the first time, however, when she goes to re-wrap his head with fresh bandages. Pulling back slightly at Martha's warning growl, the female Alpha is quick to reassure both Mother and son.
"I am just applying fresh bandages, Alex. Nothing else, I promise. Okay?"
Once she gets a small "Yes." from the bundle in the First Lady's lap, the Nurse continues with her wrapping, making sure to go slow and talk it through for all 3 Washingtons in a low, soothing voice. Her scent, when George sniffs the air, is clean and non-threatening, and he relaxes slightly.
Once she is done, Mary cleans up, grabbing Alexander's chart from above their heads and making a quick mark with her red pen, before capping it and putting it back into her pocket. After placing the clipboard back on the hook, the female Alpha turns back to the family, speaking quietly when she notices Alex's dark eyes beginning to droop as the Morphine enters his system once again.
"Steven should be back to check on everything at around 10:15, but if you need anything before then, feel free to ask."
Smiling gratefully at the thanks she receives, the Nurse glances one more time at Alexander and his machines before brushing past both Jim and Meeks, and walking out.
Once her footsteps fade, and her scent stales, the Director steps hesitantly closer to the bed, folding his ears back and tucking his tail between his legs to show that he is not a threat. Stopping about 3 feet away from the President and the Omegas, Meeks clears his throat, holding his hands up in innocence when George turns sharply toward him.
"Mr. President, I really do need to tell you the news now, sir." The Alpha states, ears twitching when he hears his boss inhale sharply.
But what ever the Commander was about to say is cut off by the First Lady, her voice as sharp as glass when she speaks, shifting her son closer.
"George, please go see what is the matter. The Director has been asking you for the past 20 minuets, and you are still the President of the United States, no matter the circumstances."
"But I can't leave you and Ale-" The Alpha starts to protest, but Martha stops him before he finishes, voice softening.
"We will be fine for a few minutes, honey." Pressing a small kiss to her husband's palm, the Omega gently moving her child to a more comfortable position as he starts to snore quietly.
George sighs, glancing back once at his mate and son as he follows the Director out of the room and into the hall, stopping only once to speak quickly to Mulligan.
"Stand guard outside with Kevin and Mike. If you have any problems, or smell an fear-scent, come and get me immediately."
"Yes, sir!" Jim salutes, face serious, and once released, stands rigidly in front of the flap, arms crossed over his chest, metals flashing against the light from the window.
Sniffing the air one last time, George steps through the doorway and into the empty hall, the smell of chemicals making his eyes burn. Turning one ear toward the door, the President waits impatiently while Meeks paces in front of him. Finally, after a few seconds, the Alpha huffs in annoyance.
"If you dragged me out here so I can watch you walk around like some unsteady toddler, I am going back to my Pack."
The Commander turns around to leave, shaking his head at the other man's antics. He is stopped by the Director's hand on his arm, forcing him to turn around. George is about to snarl at him, but pauses before even drawing a breath.
Meek's face is pale, deep crevices lining his cheeks from frowning all day. His green eyes are bloodshot and surrounded by dark bags. His mouth opens and closes several times, face so close to the President's that he can smell the pot roast from dinner on his breath. The Alpha wrinkles his nose, trying in vain to pull away from the Director.
"Andrew?" The Commander tries using the man's first name, hoping to finally snap him out of it. "What the hell happened?"
It seems to do the trick, because the other Alpha lets out a deep breathe, one hand coming up to run through his thick red hair. His whole scent reeks of nervousness, and slight fear. George tenses at the smell, fighting the urge to run back into the hospital room and protect his family.
"Mr. President," Meeks begins, hands shaking as he clenches his fists at his sides, wrinkling the red sleeves even more. "I have some news about Jane and Lee-"
George cuts him off, gut clenching at the through of finally having the bastards in his grasp. "What did you find?"
The Directs shifts from foot to foot, not meeting the Alpha's eyes. His tail curls between his legs and he tries to make himself smaller. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks.
"Mr. President, we cannot find them." Meeks's scent curls around both Alphas, smelling of dread. "They are gone, sir."
George feels his blood go cold, eyes darkening as he comprehends the news. He feels anger and terror fill his stomach, simultaneously making him want to punch the wall, and cry until he pukes. He wishes for a fleeing moment that Martha was there, needing her comfort and grounding presence.
"What?"
A/N: Thank you for reading and don't forget to comment:D