A/N: Here is Chapter 2! I hope you enjoy!:D Trigger Warning for talk of child abuse and Non-Con!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.
"This is the President."
George says this with confidence, cool and collected, ready to deal with anything that could be said by the other line. But nothing could prepare him for what comes next.
"D-daddy? I need help, please Daddy, they keep hurting me and h-hitting me, and I-I don't know what to d-do! He keeps t-t-touching me and I don't like it! He keeps bitting me and k-kissing me! Please help me Daddy! Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy. . ."
George's vision is suddenly bathed in red.
His breath comes in pants and gasps as he feels his instincts taking over. His hands turn into paws, claws the size of daggers. His nose turns into a pointed snout, lips curling back into a snarl to expose sharp, white fangs.
"Daddy?" Alexander's voice is horse from crying, so small and precious that George is snapped out of his rage, if only for a second.
"Shh, I'm here baby, I promise. I am on my way to get you sweetheart. Daddy's coming Alex, just hold on for a little longer, okay?" As he speaks, the President bursts from his office, startling his Head Officer, Jim Mulligan, from his place at the end of the hall.
Mulligan takes one look at the half transformed President and immediately jumps into action. Speaking quickly into his microphone, the General calls for backup as he makes his way toward George. He speaks once he gets closer.
"What do you need, sir?" The Omega salutes, standing with his heels touching as George stops.
"They are hurting my puppy. I need to go and get him and kill the bastards for even looking at Alexander wrong." The Alpha's voice is a deep growl, a rumble in his chest as he starts to walk again, tail snapping behind him in aggravation.
Bringing his phone back up to his ear, George listens as Alex continues to babble on the other end, wishing more than anything that he was there to protect him.
They reach the black car that has become the President's travel vehicle, the sun too bright and cheery in George's opinion as it peaks its head behind puffy clouds.
Climbing into the back, the Alpha growls at the slowness of his team. Mulligan gives him a look, but George ignores it, instead choosing to yip softly into the phone when his boy begins to cry again.
"Take us to the Lee residence as fast as you can." Washington orders his driver after getting the address from Alexander, the engine roaring to life as they pull out of the White House.
Glancing behind them, the Commander-In-Chief is relieved to see an Army Tank following close behind, while Police cars flash their blue and red lights ahead.
It takes a good 15 minutes to get to the Lee house, and all the while the Alpha is growling, eyes slit and dark. Mulligan squirms in the dark leather seat, affected by the tinge of protective and possessive pheromones George knows he is admitting.
It feels like years later, but they finally pull into the as-fault driveway.
Ignoring the warnings from the Omega General, the President jumps out of the car, transforming as he walks.
A purple WELCOME mat is scratchy under his pads as George snarls, ears pushing against the top of his head as he waits for his men to bust open the dark, oak door.
An officer, her blond ears twitching from under her hat, takes a large battering ram from the back of a tank as it rolls to a stop. She walks up the driveway, a Lieutenant following close behind, both glancing wearily at the enraged President.
They salute when they get to the porch, tails snapping straight. George looks at the barrier separating him and his baby once more, Alex's scent seeping out from under the wood, before transforming back into his human state.
Mulligan walks up the steps to stand beside the President, hand snapping into a salute when he arrives. George relieves them, wanting to get this over with quickly. His boy, his pup, was in this house, in pain and scared. And the Alpha would not stand for it, making him shake in pure rage.
"Break down the door." The Commander gives the order in a whisper, but he knows the General hears.
The Omega salutes before nodding at the Lieutenant, who, with a grunt, brings the black bat down on the door. It doesn't give way for a few seconds, but after 3 hard hits with the weapon, the wood splinters with a sharp crack.
The door gives way after a few more pounds and George has to be physically restrained by Mulligan to not rush into the house the second the barrier was down.
All the scents rush into his nose at the same time as the Special Opps team makes their way inside, guns up and ready to fire. They check the kitchen and living room, finding both clear and undisturbed, aside from a half used bottle of glass cleaner, and a blue wash cloth sitting on the countertop.
Getting the signal from the lead officer, the President steps through the doorway, taking in the dark leather couches and large T.V as he breathes in deeply.
The first scent that reaches his nose is musky, obviously male and an Alpha. A softer, more feminine smell, comes after. Lee and Jane.
But then it hits him.
It is faint, as if he had not been down for a couple of days, but Alexander's scent is still there. George grabs it like a life line and pulls.
It smells bitter, tainted with pain and fear, and the rusty stench of blood. But still there. Washington snarls, eyes flashing and ears falling back onto his skull as he follows his officers up the stairs. They reach the top in a matter of seconds, Mulligan signaling with one hand for his troops to check the first room.
They burst in, guns aimed.
Nothing. Just a bed, the comforter perfectly made, and a white dresser. A lamp sits in the corner, its yellow light casting eerie shadows on the cream colored walls.
"Clear." A troop says, ears erect, before turning and walking out.
George holds back a howl of frustration, hair bristling as they make their way to another room. They get the same result, but from the size of the bed and the heavy scent of both occupants, the President concludes that it is the master bedroom.
His lips pull up in a smirk as he takes in the flower print on the bed, already knowing that the wife had a horrible taste in design. Martha would be appalled. The Alpha thinks in amusement as he walks to stand in the hallway. His amusement is short lived, however, when he catches the signal the Lieutenant gives.
1 finger is held up. One more room to go.
A/N: Don't forget to R&R!:)