A/N: Here is Chapter 14! I hope you guys like it!:)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.
The air is muggy and damp, smelling of sour body odor and cigarette smoke. The low murmurs from other sections of the building are far off and muted, as though from under several feet of water (or sealed behind multiple layers of bullet proof glass and steel). A occasional laugh or groan surfaces for a spilt second from either side of the walls, each sounding high pitched and half crazed, before the holler of an officer cuts it off short.
George walks slowly down the long hallway, steps echoing in the dim light of the iridescent lanterns that swing from the low ceiling, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck at each noise. His ears catch the sound of when his Chief of Staff, Scarlet Harris, approaches his side, the pale pink of her dress a stark contrast to the gray interior that surrounds them.
"Just a few more minutes of walking, Mr. President." She says, tucking a loose strand of strawberry blond hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, sir."
The Alpha waves her off, feeling the sole of his black dress shoe squish into a puddle of water. He grimaces. "It's fine, Mrs. Harris, it gives me more time to. . . prepare myself."
Scarlet nods, understanding that the Commander is barely holding onto his control. The Omega steps a few feet back, leaving George to walk down the hallway with his thoughts buzzing through his head.
Director Meeks had told him the news early that morning, the rising sun turning the sky into cotton candy colors as the clouds finally pass. The ginger had shaken him awake, not bothering to wait for the President to get dressed before dragging him out of the barrier and into the hallway beyond. After checking around them for stray Nurses and Doctors, the Alpha grinned, green eyes lit up for the first time in days. He leaned close to George, his scent filled with triumph, and whispered something that changed the Commander's whole day.
The President immediately jumped into action, feeling relief fill his veins as he quickly got on his white dress shirt and red tie. Martha had finally woken up then, her tired brown eyes searching his face when he walked up, Gilbert and Alexander sleeping peacefully beside her.
"Where are you going, George?" She asked, reaching up to cup his jaw, brows furrowing at the sight of his elongated fangs. "What's wrong, honey?"
The Alpha pressed a quick kiss to her lips, breathing in the scent of his family. "Nothing baby, I just have to go to an emergency Congress Meeting."
He felt guilt fizzle in his stomach at the lie, his tail twitching. But no matter how bad he felt, he knew he could not let his Omega accompany him on this trip, the wolf inside him bristling at the thought. At movement on the side of Martha caught his eye, and he turned just as Gilbert sits up.
"Bonjour, Papa." He says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand, the other reaching out toward the President.
"Good morning, sweetheart." The Alpha replies, squeezing Laf's hand back.
"Where are you going?"
"Just to a meeting, I should be back later today." Again with the guilt, but George pushed it back. "Go back to sleep, Gil."
The 15 year old squinted, his brown eyes studying his father for a few tense seconds before he huffed. Reaching up, the young Omega planted a wet kiss onto George's scruffy face, before curling back up against his Mama.
"Don't forget, you promised we wou-" A yawn cuts his sentence in half, his eyes slipping shut as he wrapped one arm around his still snoring brother. "-ld watch a movie t-tonight as a family."
"I remember. The one with the talking cop animals right?" The Commander whispered, gently running one hand through his child's curls.
Lafayette snickered quietly, nuzzling his face further into his pillow as Martha pulls the sheet further up his chest.
"Yep, Zootopia. With buttered popcorn, lots of butter. . ." The 15 year old's voice started to fade as he went back to dreaming, giving one final "Je t'aime, Papa." before a trail of drool made a puddle on the pillow.
"I love you too, Gilbert." George says quietly, kissing his Omega's foreheads, Alex wrinkling his nose at the sensation, gripping Martha's shirt tighter in his fist. "I love all of you, so much."
"We love you too, George." The First Lady whispered as her husband takes a step back. "Please make sure you eat something before the meeting."
"I will."
The President stopped for a second, letting his body relax as he covers the room in his scent, making sure to blow one final kiss to his mate before stepping fully out the door. General Mulligan gives him a nod when he passed, promising silently to watch over his Pack while he is gone. Pushing down his guilt for the millionth time, George quickly grabbed a granola bar from a basket on the Nurses Station. He ripped off the wrapper as he walks, stuffing half the bar into his mouth at once as the Secret Service Members open the outside doors.
His black limo waited for him, the metal shining in the growing light. Thanking the service member that opened his door, the Commander quickly swallowed down the rest of his granola bar, feeling the oats stick to the back of his throat as they started to roll out of the parking lot. Glancing back once at the building behind them, the President remembers feeling the tension that lit up his body like lightning.
A clearing of a throat shakes George from his thoughts. Blinking quickly, the Alpha gives his full attention to Director Meeks as he walks to stand in front of him, ears flickering as the ginger starts to speak.
"Mr. President, the Interrogation Room is right through this door," looking quickly at the door they are standing by, he pats the steel frame with one hand, the sound hollow, "No one will be allowed in besides you, me, and authorized Agents."
A small gust of wind suddenly kicks up some scents from below the door, and George's eyes widen as he scents the air. Growling, the Alpha is about to tear open the steel when he is stopped by Meeks.
"Sir, I know who is talking with you today, and I know that it is going to be hard keeping your protective instincts in check, but please try. If not for your sake, then for your Pack's."
Licking his lips, the Commander slowly relaxes, feeling his claws start to shrink. Taking a deep breath, George focuses again on the Director.
"I'm sorry, Andrew. Please continue."
Nodding, the Alpha stands up a little taller. "As I was saying, this meeting will last for as long as you need it to, sir. You may ask any question that pertains to the case, and do not need to answer any yourself. Any violence will not be tolerated."
Seeing that his boss understands, Meeks pulls on the handle, both Alphas wincing at the squeak that assaults their ears. Walking into the small room, the President looks around, locating a metal table and 2 matching chairs on either side, one fitted for handcuffs. A sheets of glass covers one wall, the people that George knows are on the other side completely invisible via the one-way quality of the mirror. Another metal door is situated beside the glass, the heavy lock making the Commander feel anxious.
Taking a seat on the closest chair, George watches as Scarlet walks in behind them, her head held high, and her brown eyes focused. She stands off to his right. Meeks takes the other side, tail snapping straight as footsteps approach from behind the other door. Sitting up straight, the President stares a hole into the metal as a key is pressed into the lock.
He feels more than sees the Service Members tensing behind him, but all of his attention is locked onto the door as it slowly swings open. A musky male smell assaults his senses, settling on his tongue and almost making him gag.
Narrowing his eyes, and bearing his fangs, George silently stares down Charles Lee as he walks in.
The Alpha's once neatly combed blond hair is greasy and tangled in knots, his orange jumpsuit making the bruising that covers his face stand out vividly, white bandages glowing around his head. His walk is more of a lopsided gait, seeming to vastly favor his right side as he slowly limps over. His left arm, sitting in a cast that hangs around his neck, flops back into his chest with each step, his right hand pulled behind his back by a chain cuff tied at his waist. His eyes, partly hidden behind his dirty bangs, are locked onto George's, blazing a gray fire as he is forced to sit into his own cold metal chair by 2 police officers.
He doesn't say anything as the officers lock his cuff onto the pole on the table, flexing his right fingers as he continues to study George. They sit there for a few minutes, both barely breathing as they stare at each other. Finally, Lee breaks the silence.
"Mr. President."
His voice is raspy, as though he hasn't used it in a while. The term, while normally conveys respect, is spit out like the worst curse word, the Alpha's face still blank and non-interested.
George doesn't respond, feeling fury fill his blood as he thinks of this man touching his baby. His brown eyes darken, a snarling fighting for appearance as his lips curl. Taking a breath, the President tries to calm down, knowing that Lee wants him to get angry. And the bastard is not getting anything he wants, not today.
Lee seems un-surprised by the lack of reaction, tapping out a steady rhythm against the table with his good hand, the hand cuff jingling.
"It seems that the little brat finally out played me. I will give him credit, he was very persistent. But I had a few ways to-" The Alpha licks his lips, eyes dilated in pleasure. "-make him remember who was boss. Oh yes, he was so pretty pushed up against the wall, sweet tears falling from his beautiful eyes. . .
George growls, the only sound he has made so far, leaning forward so that he is towering over the other male. His power swirls around him, his scent heavy and coated with anger. Out of the corner of his eye, the President sees Meeks step forward to interrupt, but is stopped by a quick look from the Commander. Seeing that he was free to continue, the Alpha brings his hands to rest on either side of Lee's body, bringing his face inches away from the prisoners.
"I don't care about the consequences, if you ever talk about my child that way again, I am going to tear you limb from limb!" He whispers, claws scratching against the cool metal.
But the other Alpha still gives no reaction, leaning back against his chair with seemingly practiced ease. The only outward change is in his scent, which wavers slightly, before filling up the room with more pheromones than needed. George huffs, glaring one more time at the bastard, before settling back against his own chair.
"Now, you are going to answer all of my questions to the best of your ability-" The President starts to says, but is cut off by Lee, his voice bordering on bored.
"'All is fair in love and war.'"
"What?"
"You know the saying, George." The Alpha says, ignoring the warning glare the Commander sends him, tail twitching against the leg of his chair. "'All is fair in love and war.' People have been saying that since the beginning of time."
The President waits for him to elaborate, but all he gets back is the same blank, almost dead stare. Clearing his throat, the Alpha continues with his speech.
"As I was saying, we can do this the easy way, or the hard w-"
"Do you remember the war, Mr. President?" Lee suddenly asks, shifting around in his seat, his gray eyes intense as they bore into George's. "Do you remember the blazing sun, and the scorching sand that would rub your feet raw with each step?"
Yes. George remembers all of that and so much more. The war with Afghanistan was a hard war, and it still haunts his dreams. The screams of the drying, and the cold silence of the already deceased. The days of walking, heavy packs weighing down their backs, little to no food in their stomachs, and sometimes even less water. The precision in which they killed other humans had always scared and fascinated George, and he remembers the first time he took a life. . .
Shaking his head, the Alpha forces the memories back into the corner of his mind, instead of choosing to focus on the criminal in front of him. Lee was watching him with the same collected intensity, and smirks at the haunted look the President tries to hide.
"I was in the 12 Division. Sniper." The blond says with a small amount of pride. "I was instructed to kill my enemies with pin point accuracy, and if I saw an opportunity, was commanded to shoot no matter what they were doing."
A minuscule amount of happiness flows into his tone, so fleeting that George thought maybe he imagined it.
"I killed people while they were eating dinner, or riding a bike, or walking their dog. I murdered them getting groceries, and driving their cars. Even though they were people, human beings, I still felt some enlightenment, some pleasure . . . "
He stops speaking for a few minutes, the only sound being the breathing of the 4 of them, and the hum of the air conditioner kicking on. The light above them slowly starts to sway in the now flowing air, the President feeling goose bumps rising along his skin from the cold, and from the concentrated eyes of the killer in front of him.
"Do you know what I learned, George?"
The Commander shakes his head, feeling his irritation spike at the casual use of his first name. Lee clenches his good fist, the cuff making it hard for him to do anything else.
"I leaned that it is so easy to take things from people, especially from fools." The criminal's voice is hollow and grim, reflecting the atmosphere of the room. "Like you."
The President still doesn't understand, and his confusion must show on his face because Lee huffs, irritation morphing his busted up features.
"You took something from me, something important-life changing even! You started my downfall with your hero bullshit! Remember the promotion?"
George just stares, gasping at the other man as the thoughts finally click together, like a puzzle that found its last missing piece.
"You mean, you were the other Soldier they were considering promoting?" The President asks, hearing Scarlet gasp behind him as she figures it out.
"Yes! And I would have gotten the job if it wasn't for you. You, with all of your metals, and talk of honor, the great George Washington in all of his mighty glory." Lee sneers, sarcastic and cruel. "While you were living the high life as a General, I was stuck down in the slumps, a worthless Lieutenant, forced to bow to your every wim."
The male, in his passion and anger, tries to stand up, but the chain connected to the table prevents the action, leaving him to fall back down into his seat with a loud thump. With his eyes blazing, Lee leans forward toward George, face pinched in the imitation of a smile, teeth sharp and bared. His ears fold back, claws leaving thin scratches on the gray metal of the table. Director Meeks comes forward to control the enraged Alpha, his gun out and loaded, but the President holds up one hand, forcing the man to halt in his advancement.
"And when m-my time to shine f-finally came, to show my commanders that I was c-capable of leading a team, I was again stopped b-by you." Charles gasps out, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
George remembers this mission, and he feels frustration rise up from his gut. His tail snaps around his legs, foot tapping on the concrete floor. "I told you to retreat! I saved your life!" Sadly.
"You made me look weak! That was my one chance to advance in rank and you ruined it! We could have killed th-"
"Enough!" The President finally commands, his Alpha tone vibrating throughout the room. Lee snaps his mouth shut, bloodshot eyes widening at the power the other man has over him. "We are getting no where. What does all of this have to do with my son?"
The other Alpha grins, shark-like and dangerous. Seeming to gather his composure once again, he carefully props one foot on the corner of the table, trying to appear uninterested. Brushing his dirty hair from his face, he speaks in a lust filled voice.
"Oh, yes. Well, when we saw that the Coven was going to be putting Operation Evaluate in place, we knew that this was the perfect way to ensure the most pain we could cause you. So we put our names onto the list of possible placement homes, and prayed that we got one of your children. The next day, we got the news that we were approved, and found out that we would take your youngest pup. Alexander."
Shivering at his baby's name coming from this monster, George fights for control once again. "He said that you would ask him questions about me. Why?"
Charles giggles, the sound causing the hair on the President to stand straight up in alarm. "I just wanted to see what he knew, if there was anything we could use against you. But he knew nothing useful, so I put his mouth to better use."
George stands up, feeling queasy at the though of Lee forcing his child, his puppy to do those nasty things. He starts to pace, snarling, feeling all of the eyes watching, from behind the glass and not, as he goes back and forth across the room. His wolf is pushing against his skin, wanting to get out and attack, but the Alpha pushes it down, knowing that it would only make things worse.
"Where is Jane?" He suddenly asks, nostrils flaring at Lee's bitter scent. "Surely she was with you when-"
The President gestures to the cuts and bruises that litter the Alpha's skin, his broken arm twitching at the movement as he sits up. His gray eyes are dull, reflecting the light of the lamp with slitted pupils.
"I have never driven in Virginia before, especially at night and in the rain." Lee says, feel defensive for some reason. His lips curl. "And that truck came out of nowhere. . ."
"That wasn't what I asked." George growls, his frustration growing. He stops pacing and stands in front of the blond, jabbing his finger onto the table with every word. "Where. Is. Your. Mate?"
Lee scowls, his sharp chin jutting out as he thinks. Finally he speaks, voice sounding defeated for the first time that day.
"I-I don't know."
The Commander frowns, leaning down closer to the man. "You don't know where your Omega is?"
"No!" The criminal fidgets, trying to reach up to tug at the collar of his orange shirt. "I mean, she-she was there, when we got into the crash. Right beside me, yelling at me about her having to pee. . . The next second, we were in a ditch. The passengers side was empty, with blood everywhere and the glass broken. My head was bleeding pretty bad, I might have blacked out. . . When I woke up, I was handcuffed to a hospital bed. They wouldn't tell me anything. . ."
Lee grew uneasy and quiet after that. George tries to ask him a few more questions, to get back on the topic and get evidence, but the other Alpha's gaze is foggy and unfocused. He doesn't even flinch when the President scoots his chair back, the metal scrapping against the concrete.
George sighs as he turns toward the other people in the room. His Chief of Staff is capping her pen, smoothing down the wrinkles in her dress, and waiting for an order from her boss. The President nods at her, and she turns to walk out. Once the door is shut firmly behind her, George looks at Meeks, knowing that the feeling of frustration and apprehension is shared between the two of them. Finally, he stares at Lee once more, the killer fixing his cold gray gaze on the Commander.
"I think we are done here." George finally says, and watches as 2 police officers file back into the room.
He thanks them for their time as they unclip Lee from the table, the Alpha making no move to resist. His head is lowered, tail dragging behind him and ears drawn against his unruly blond hair. His limp thumps against the ground with each step.
Director Meeks steps forward to lead the President out of the room, and the Alpha is about to follow him when he is stopped by Lee voice, sounding ominous and as dry as gravel.
"Don't forget, George. There is always one wolf in every field of sheep."
Then he is gone. The metal door bangs shut behind him, and both occupants of the room listen as his footsteps slowly get further away, his scent become stale as they stand there. After a few seconds of silence, the Director rests one supporting hand on the Commander's shoulder, gently tugging him in the direction of the now open door.
"Are you ready to go now, sir?"
The Alpha nods with a soft "Yes, thank you." before Andrew leads him out into the foul smelling hallway.
They begin to walk away from the room. George leaves with more questions then answers, and a sense that more confusion is still to come.
A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D