A/N: Here is Chapter 12! Sorry this is so late, I have been really busy with finals lately. I hope you guys enjoy:)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical. Trigger Warningfor talk of ChildAbuse andNon-Con!
A couple of days pass.
George, after receiving the troubling news from Director Meeks, immediately orders the other Alpha to send out Search Parties, starting around the D.C area and moving into Northern Virginia. The President was going to find the fuckers even if it was the last thing he did.
The Director complies instantly, speaking rapidly into his nearly invisible head set, fingers flying over the keys on his phone. After a few minutes of ordering his agents, Meeks informed his boss that detectives are leaving as they speak, tracking the two criminals by scent and by sights from witnesses.
"We should find them within the next 48 hours or so, sir." The Alpha had said, ears twitching.
That was 5 days ago.
The Commander is getting restless, his body high strung and tense. He finds himself, alone, and in the middle of the night while the Hospital is all but a few whispers between curtains, pacing the floor around Alexander's bed. His claws tap against the tile floor, ears pricked and eyes scanning every corner of the room, as though invisible threats lurked in the pockets of darkness. His mate and child sleep deeply in the bed a few feet from him, their faces glowing in the pale light of the moon.
George knew that Martha suspected something, he could see the way his mate would gaze at him with worried brown eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. He had told her the news, of course, had taken her into the bathroom and spoken soothing words into her drawn back ears as she ranted and cried. But that was the last time she had sobbed about it, both of them knowing that they had to be strong for their boy.
Alexander's wounds were slowly healing, the harsh gashes and sever bruises starting to scab over, and fade. But the phycological symptoms are still brewing full force, forcing the young Omega to relive his horrors over and over again in the dead of night. No matter how much George and Martha held him and kissed away his tears, Alex still woke up screaming, trying to push away phantom attacks with his small claws.
It was a cloudy day. The rain that the weather man predicted a few hours ago coming down in sheets, small droplets tapping against the window as the trees fight an epic battle against the wind. George is never sure which one wins.
The Alpha is sitting on the edge of Alexander's cot, the First Lady resting against the headboard, both watching as a flash of lightning zips across the blackened sky, the sound of thunder following soon after, ripping the air in half with it's loud bass.
Their child is in the bathroom, taking a shower alone for the first time in days. The Omega had been cleaned, of course, but only with a supervisor, and never was aloud to stand up. Alex had thrown a fit when Dr. Franklin informed him of this arrangement, saying that he was old enough to wash himself, and not fall face first into the faucet. But the Doctor was insistent, informing the 12 year old of the consequences that would arise if he were to injure his ribs or head again.
A concussion, Ben had said, pulling his gloves off while the Washingtons watch him from the bed, is not to be taken lightly, especially combined with your other troubles.
That statement had effectively stopped Alexander's complaints, and the 12 year old grudgingly accepted that he would not be bathing himself for the next few days, at least until his ribs were not as inflamed. Yesterday, after a gruesome 30 minutes of checking by the Doctor, Franklin had told the family that Alex could stand while showering, his brain showing no sign of swelling, and his ribs slowly healing. It would take another 5 and a half weeks for them to be completely fixed, but right now they celebrated every step in the right direction.
A movement out of the corner of his eye breaks the President's train of though. Turning away from the rain soaked window, George feels his heart fill with love as he takes in the sight of his baby standing in the bathroom doorway, a white towel being held tight around Alex's bruised waist as he shivers from the cold.
"Momma?" The Omega calls quietly, small droplets of water rolling down his arms from his soaked dark hair. "Can you help me with my clothes?"
He gestures to his ribs, where the outline of a shoe print could still be seen, as though someone had stomped on his chest as hard as they could. George still feels fury tingle his skin as he looks at it, but focuses on his child's face once again as his little boy shifts, tightening his hold on his towel.
Martha gently smiles at Alex, reaching out to squeeze her husband's hand when she lifts herself out of the bed. "Of course, baby. Did you already brush your teeth?"
Alexander nods as his mother steps around him, flipping on the bathroom light and leading her son inside. George continues to watch the door even after it has been softly closed, his ears barely catching the soft mutters of his Omegas through the wood before another clap of thunder drowns them out. Turning his attention back outside, the Commander watching the rain slide down the glass as he lets his thoughts wonder.
Gilbert was scheduled to arrive late tonight, his plane suffering a delay because of the weather. When the Alpha had called him, the Omega had been so happy he could barely speak, going off on a rampage only Alexander could understand. The 12 year old reassured his brother that he was getting better, and that Laf had better bring him back a t-shirt from France, otherwise he was going to be very angry. Gilbert had just laughed through his tears, telling Alex that he would bring everyone back one. The connection had started to break due to the distance and weather, so George was forced to end the call, all 3 of them making sure to tell the Omega that they loved him and would see him soon. Blowing kisses through the phone, the 15 year old wished them goodnight, then gently hung up.
Another flash of lighting zigzags through the clouds, hitting the ground so close to the Hospital that the President could see its' final resting place, the rumble that follows shaking the windowsill and vibrating through his skull. Glancing behind him, George turns toward the entrance just as Jim pokes his head in, startling at the Alpha's intense gaze.
"Mr. President, Dr. Nelson is here to see Alexander." The Omega says, and the Alpha slides off the bed.
Walking over, he smooths his slightly wrinkled blue shirt, making sure his red tie is straight as Mulligan opens the flap for him to step out.
Dr. Nelson is standing near the door when he walks out, her blond ears perking up when he comes closer. She steps forward eagerly, blue eyes bright as she takes the President's offered hand.
"Nice to see you again sir." She says as they walk back through the clothe, her clipboard held to her chest, papers crinkling.
"You as well, Doctor." George says.
After turning on the lamp, and grabbing her chair from the corner, the President sets it up beside Alexander's bed, making sure to keep it not too close so his child does not panic during the session. Dr. Nelson hums as she sits down, her golden tail resting against her thigh, the tip flicking lightly from side to side. Both Alpha's watch the storm raging outside, waiting patiently for Alex and Martha to finish in the bathroom.
Dr. Katlyn Nelson has been meeting with Alexander for the past four days, trying to get the small Omega to open up and talk about what he went through. At first, his son had been afraid of her, cowering beneath Martha the first day, the Therapist's Alpha scent making him anxious and jumpy. Nelson had tried to explain to the 12 year old that she was only here to help, and that she was not there to hurt him, but Alex was too far gone to be consulted. He had whimpered and cried for 30 minutes after she had left, hanging onto his parents as though he was being taken again.
His screams had rung extra loud that night.
The next day, Katlyn tried a different tactic. After coming in and sitting down, the Alpha started writing on her clipboard, the scratch of her pen helping to coax the reluctant Omega out of his hiding spot between his Mommy and Daddy. After about 10 minutes, bloodshot brown eyes blinked at her from behind tousled dark hair. They stayed that way throughout the rest of the hour, the Therapist writing out notes as she quietly observes Alexander, while he, in turn, studies her watching him. Martha and George were silent through out the whole affair, the President rubbing soothing circles on his baby's back when he tenses up. The Alpha in him has to fight not to chase away the Doctor, his scent subconsciously trying to beat hers from the room.
The only outward respond George got was the lowering of Nelson's ears, her body language trying to convert that she was not a threat, and that she respected his dominance. It has never been an issue sense.
Once she left that day, the Doctor had given Alex a green notebook and a purple pen, telling him to write whenever he feels sad or scared, or if he remembers a extra gruesome memory. The Omega had almost immediately started to write, bearing down on the flimsy cardboard so hard George though the pen was going to snap. His child didn't even acknowledge the board that was placed under him, or the First Lady's fingers gently running through his hair, all his focus was on the words flowing on the paper. He had filled up the notebook by the next morning, his mother sending word to David to pick up more from the White House. The Secretary arrived a few hours later, carrying a whole box full of different colors and sizes.
Alexander's current notebook, a bright orange one, is sitting slightly hidden under his pillow, his infamous purple pen tucked into the spine. George wonders, not for the first time, what it is his child writes about so late at night.
Dr. Nelson clears her throat, startling the President from his thoughts. A bolt of lighting slices through the room, illuminating the councilor's pale features as she turns toward him. She waits for the rumble to pass before speaking.
"Mr. President, has Alexander spoken to you or your mate about anything that went on in the Lee house?"
Getting a no from the Commander, Katlyn clickers her tongue, face becoming concerned as she glances down at her notes, making a mark on her paper. George is just about to ask her what is wrong when his wife and son step out of the restroom.
Alexander freezes when he catches sight of the Doctor, putting himself slightly behind Martha. His newly washed red shirt is being pulled down by nervous hands as the First Lady gently urges him along. His hair is still slightly damp, a high ponytail making the bruising on his face harsher in the gray light.
The Omega walks slowly toward George and Nelson, his tail tucked between his legs as he glances down. The only sound he makes, a small squeak of pain, is when his father gently picks him up, placing the 12 year old in the middle of the messy bed. The President kisses his head in apology, a deep rumble that mimics the thunder outside escaping his chest.
The swish of the curtain causes the Alpha to turn toward the entrance, subconsciously stepping in front of his two pack members. But it is only Steven, the Nurse holding an ice pack in one hand, an extra bag of fluid in the other.
He doesn't speak as he sets up Alex's I.V. once more, and all of the occupants watch him with various expressions. Dr. Nelson continues to make note every few seconds, her ears perking up at every almost silent noise.
"I am going to need you to hold this to your ribs again, Alexander." The Nurse finally whispers, holding out the blue ice pack, which Martha takes gratefully.
Alex hisses when the cold container is placed on his chest for the 6th time in two days, goosebumps rising along his arms and neck, brown tail fluffing up against the coolness. George quickly brings the sheets up to cover his upper body, rubbing his warm hands up and down his baby's arms to warm him up, while his mate just pulls the 12 year old closer.
Once Steve leaves, Dr. Nelson clears her throat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, blue eyes keen and earnest.
"Hello again, Alex." She says.
The young Omega glances at her from under his lashes, picking at a button on his daddy's shirt. George breathes out a sigh of relief when his son responds to the Therapist for the first time. Martha grips his hand, body language conveying her joy at this small improvement.
"Hi." Alex whispers, voice small and body tensing.
Katlyn smiles softly at the skittish child, a flare of lighting reflecting in her shining cyan eyes. The rumble of thunder that follows is muted, the sound of rain starting to lay off as the storm possibility starts to settle down.
"Have you been writing in your notebook?" The Alpha asks, ears perking up when Alex gives a shy nod.
The Omega grabs his newest papers with a slightly trembling hand, clutching the orange colored book against his chest. The ice pack crinkles at the pressure, some water dripping out and staining the red fabric a darker crimson, dot appearing across Alexander's chest as the liquid soaked through. George feels his stomach clench at the sight, the color reminding him of a different source, of pain filled whimpers and vibrant streaks of red smeared on white sheets and sliding down bruised cheeks. The President shakes his head slightly to clear away the images, pressing a quick kiss to his child's temple. His son's pulse is fluttering underneath his lips, his heart beating wildly as lighting illuminates the room.
"You don't have to show me what you wrote, Alex." Dr. Nelson reassures the 12 year old, "I am just glad that you are putting your thoughts and feelings into words instead of keeping them bottled up."
Alexander looks down once at the notebook still held to his chest, his brown eyes holding an emotion that George cannot place, before he meets the Therapist's gaze again. His opens and closes his mouth, the words that he wants to say getting trapped in his throat as the rain kicks up again. He shifts against his Mother's chest, gripping the ice pack so hard his arm trembles, nostrils flaring and ears drawn back. Martha shares a concerned look with her Alpha, grabbing the pack from Alex, and placing it on the table. Her own nose twitches when she catches his fear filled scent, cupping her baby's face, her dark eyes searching.
"What's wrong, love? Are you in pai-" The Omega starts to ask, but is cut off by her son, his voice filled with sorrow.
"They. . . They would ask me questions- weird questions, about Daddy and his work."
All eyes are locked into the small boy as he whispers about his experiences for the first time. Tears fill his eyes, but none fall yet, his free hand becoming entangled in George's work shirt as he silently seeks comfort. The Alpha is quick to step closer, trying desperately to mask the scent of his fury with a sweep of his tail as Alexander continues.
"I-I didn't know what they were talking about! They kept saying something about a war, and a desert, and how he was the real hero. . . " Alex seems to loose his train of thought for a second, tears finally running down his red cheeks, eyes misty and far away.
The only sound for a few seconds is the scratch of pen against paper as Katlyn furiously tries to write down the whole situation. A clash of thunder sounds, rattling the windows as the wind and rain howl outside. George grips both his Omegas hands tightly, trying desperately trying to control the snarl that wants to curl his lips, already knowing that his wife felt the same way.
"They would beat me when I refused to answer, or if I didn't know what they were asking," The 12 year old continues once the thunder passes, voice flat and fists clenched, "I was almost never allowed to eat, and then sometimes, late at night, Lee would, he would -"
Alexander's voice cracks, fresh tears slipping past his now squeezed shut eyes. His parents both pull him close, the Commander feeling his pupils darken as he shoves away his Alpha instincts. Martha growls silently, white teeth sharpening as she gently strokes her child's still damp hair.
"What would he do, Alex?" The Doctor asks quietly, her pen seizing it's frantic movements as she focuses her entire attention on her patient.
The Omega lets out a cross between and groan and a whine, his fear scent leaking from every pore. He buries his face in his Mommy's chest, sobs forcing their way out of his clenched teeth as he relives the horrors. His voice is nearly unrecognizable when he speaks, body shivering.
"He would touch me. . . "
George's ears are sudden filled with ringing. He takes a step back from his family as he feels the wolf inside him become unleashed. His hands turn into paws, claws razor sharp and snout curling back to expose his enlarged fangs. His dark fur stands on end as he jumps up onto the bed, landing with a thump as Katlyn watches with wide eyes. He snarls at her, spit dripping from his bared teeth as he curls about his Omegas. Both people under him whine at the pure protective scent that surrounds them, Martha trying in vain to calm down her mate.
"George, calm down please, it is okay, honey. We are safe and Dr. Nelson is not going to hurt us. Please shift back."
But the President is to far gone to be consulted. Looking over his shoulder, the Alpha snaps his jaws, giving his Omega a warning growl when she huffs. His son is still crying, eyes clenched shut and tiny claws ripping into his white sheets. George feels his heart break at the sight, giving his baby a nuzzle with his nose, a soothing rumble filling his chest as Martha sniffs.
"Mr. President?" Katlyn stands up, keeping her blue eyes lowered in submission at the snarl the other Alpha sends her. Placing her clipboard on her chair behind her, she takes a timid step forward. "Can I speak to Alexander one more time before I leave?"
George sniffs the air, brown eyes searching the Doctor's face as he tucks his body tighter around his pack. Finally, he huffs, tail swishing as he allows Nelson to come closer.
You may.
Dipping her head to the Commander, the female Alpha tips her ears to the side as she gently squats so she is eye level to the now sniffling puppy. Alex wipes his eyes with his sleeve, his heart monitor finally slowing down in its persistent beeping. The First Lady tightens her hold on him when he tenses, but allows him to lift his head from her chest. His eyes are red rimmed, nose stuffed up and leaking snot onto his mom's blue shirt. Martha gently wipe it away with the palm of her hand, cupping her child's cheek with the other.
"I just want to thank you, Alex." Katlyn says gently, eyes brightening as the room flashes white once again. "It was very brave of you to open up today, and I am very proud of you."
The youngest Washington smiles at the Alpha, feeling his heart swell at the praise. Turning his head away from Nelson, the Omega snuggles closer to his Mommy, trying to calm down, breathing in her scent as his tired eyes slip shut.
The Therapist steps back once Alex closes his eyes, grabbing her papers as she faces the still shifted President and his wary mate. George's dark eyes track her every movement, ears twitching as the precipitation outside continues to abuse the window.
"We have made excellent progress this afternoon. I am very happy that Alex decided to talk." Her tone suddenly becomes darker, and George suppresses a shiver, giving his mate a lick on her head when she whimpers. "But we still have a long way to go, and I really hope that this sudden rush of emotions is not to much for Alexander. I would hate to see him revert back to his silence."
With that, Dr. Nelson turns and walks out, not waiting for a response from either Washington. The President continues to stare at the entrance of the clothe for a few more minutes, crawling to lay at the foot of the bed. Martha shifts Alex to a more comfortable position, face troubled.
"Are you going to shift back now, sweetheart?" His wife asks, tail twitching under the blankets as she tugs them up.
Not right now. George says, licking his lips as the taste of the Hospital chemicals settle on his tongue. I need to make sure you both are safe before I can change back. I will feel restless if I don't.
The First Lady doesn't argue, but her brows draw together in worry. Her Alpha barks soothingly, watching as she kisses their now sleeping puppy's head. Gently pulling Alex up farther, Martha closes her eyes after glancing at her Husband one more time. Her chest rises and falls evenly with each breath, but George knows she is not asleep, and wouldn't be for a while. They both needed to talk about the new development, but right now the President is to wound up to even shift back to a human. He knows, however, that it is only a matter of time, and feels his gut clench and his fur ripple as he sinks further into his instincts.
Sighing silently, the Alpha hops down from the bed, freezing when his mate shifts, but she doesn't open her eyes. Glancing at his family, the Commander sniffs the air, ears flicking as the sound of the rain and Alexander's heart monitor fill his sensitive ears. Feeling his paws start to twitch, he starts to walk back and forth across the foot of the cot, keeping all his senses focused on his pack and the area around them. This lasts for over an hour, the clock on the wall counting each of his steps as he feels Martha's eyes follow his movements. His breaths come in pants, feeling his claws scrape against the cool, tile floor.
Outside, the wind blows, and the rain falls. Lightning flashes and thunder booms. But still, George paces.
A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D
