A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for such the long wait, but school and work are taking their toll on me and I am really tired XD. Thank you for sticking with me and I promise the next Chapter will be up much sooner!:)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: AnAmericanMusical.
Trigger Warning For Talk Of Child Abuse!
They are quiet after that, breaths falling in sink with their sleeping child. George can still smell Lee and Jane's scent on Alex when he kisses his forehead, nostril flaring at the reminder of what they still need to figure out. The Omega shifts once more, curling tighter against his mother's chest as he sighs. The President tenses, waiting for any sign of pain, but none comes. Martha squeezes his hand lightly, resting her head on top of Alexander's dark locks as she starts to lightly dose.
A movement in the corner of his eyes catches the Alpha's attention, head whipping around, and body springing to cover both his Omega's sleeping bodies as the white clothe is pulled aside.
"Excuse me, Mr. President, but I have some extra clothes for you all to change into when you get a chance." His secretary, a young Alpha named David, holds up a gray duffle-bag as he speaks, making sure to keep his eyes lowered as he catches the Commander's heightened scent.
George huffs at himself, feeling foolish for overreacting, but knows that the wolf inside him is on full alert, and will continue to protect his Pack Members for as long as it will take. Glancing down at his sleeping mate and son, the President carefully slips out of the bed, pressing a kiss to each of their heads as they both whimper as his scent gets farther away.
"Thank you, David." George says, taking the bag from the younger Alpha. Ignoring his instincts telling his to stand protectively in front of both Omegas, the President shifts from foot to foot, scratching the back of his neck as he feels his face heat up. "I am sorry for acting like a-ah, what's the word?"
"A protective, possessive Alpha?" David supplies, letting out a small chuckle as his boss blushes even harder, feeling embarrassed even as his chest subconsciously puffs up in pride. "It is fine sir, I understand that your instincts are impossible to ignore. I mean, you should have seen me when I was first bonded to Shawn. We couldn't even go out to dinner without me snarling at everyone and everything. He never lets me live it down."
George huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as David smiles softly, thinking of his Omega. A noise from the bed catches both of their attention and the President immediately turns around, ears swiveling to catch any other sound that is made.
But it is just Martha moving Alex to a more comfortable position, the First Lady's eyes still closed and breaths still even. George stares at them for a second longer, trying to calm his racing heart and retract his claws. Seeing that nothing was wrong, the President turns back to David, making a motion with his free hand as though he wants to apologize. The younger male waves him off, taking a step back as he speaks.
"You can get back to your family now, Mr. President. If you need anything else from the White House, just let me know."
"Thank you." The Commander says, giving his secretary a nod as the other Alpha shuts the curtain behind him.
Adjusting his grip on the bag, George walks back over to the bed, stopping next to Martha, love flaring up in his dark eyes as he takes in the scene before him.
His wife clutches Alexander to her chest, lovingly breathing in his sweet scent as she sleeps. Their baby is holding her back just as tight, snuggling closer every few seconds, injuries seaming to finally dull in their throbbing. The President hates to wake her, but he needs to get them both changed.
Reaching down, the Alpha gently kisses her cheek, feeling her long eyelashes flutter on his face as she stirs. Her eyes are instantly alert once they open, and she makes a move as to sit up. She stops, however, when Alex whimpers, instead choosing to grip George's shirt collar in her thin fingers. Her breath is hot against his cheek as she kisses him, lips soft and warm against his.
"David brought us clothes from home," the President says once they break apart, relishing in the high color on his mate's cheekbones, a deep rumble filling his chest as Alex sniffs, nuzzling Martha's shirt. "Do you want to go get changed while I sit with Alexander, or do you want me to go first?"
The First Lady gestures to the 12 year old in her lap, raising one perfectly trimmed eyebrow as she answers.
"I don't think I could move even if I wanted to."
George smirks, kissing both of their foreheads. Once he knows that there are no problems, the Alpha walks to the open door near the window. A peak inside shows a white bathroom with a walk in shower, the curtain a light yellow that is bright in the plain interior. Cream colored towels hang on racks near the sink, some folded for use after showering. The whole room smells slightly of fake flowers and chemicals.
Glancing back once more, taking in the sight of his sleeping baby and tired wife, the President blows his Omegas one last kiss before stepping into the other room. Closing the oak door except for a crack, George sets the bag down on the toilet seat lid, flipping the light on as he goes.
The white light blinds him for a second, and the Commander blinks, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down as he waits for his eyes to adjust. Once the black spots fade does the Alpha unzip his bag and pull out his fleas pants and a plain white shirt. Digging deeper, the Alpha pulls out a smaller pink bag, finding a razor, 3 tooth brushes, some deodorant, a brush and toothpaste enclosed. He sets it on the shelf to the left of the mirror.
George tugs the soft pants on, stuffing his work clothes into the bottom of the gray carrying case, setting his mate's clothes on top. As the President begins the slow task of unbuttoning his blue shirt, he takes a second to study himself in the mirror.
Dark circles stand out from under his red eyes, skin ashy and gray in the white light. His face is covered with the beginning of a 5 o'clock shadow and his teeth are sharp when he opens his mouth. All in all, he looks as much like a President as the moon looks like the sun.
Shaking his head at himself, George pulls work shirt from his shoulders and sets it on the edge of the sink. After tugging his night shirt over his head, he turns the water on warm, rinsing his face a few times to get rid of the groggy feeling starting to fog his brain, knowing he will need to stay up to keep watch over his Pack.
After drying the water from his face, George lets his gaze fall to the wrinkled shirt sitting on the counter, small droplets of red standing out against the blue material.
Alexander's blood.
Suddenly it is to much. Grabbing the shirt in trembling hands, George frantically tries to scrub his child's blood out of the cotton, the white marble turning pink after a few seconds. Strangled gasps make their way out of the President's mouth as he fights for control, body shuttering as tears fill his eyes, making his own reflection a blurred blob.
Finally he gives up, his hands rubbed raw in the scalding water, shirt soaked through and dripping now clean water down the side of the sink, forming a pool on the tile floor. The Alpha is breathing heavy, choked sobs being forced out through clenched teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he trembles.
A knock at the door startles the President, causing him to jump, growling softly at his weakness.
"George, is everything ok?" Martha calls softly through the door, scent worried and so beautiful.
George tries to answer, but his voice sticks in his throats and he can't speak. His tail flicks around in anger and frustration.
"Geor-oh, honey. . . " His wife opens the door slowly, eyes widening as she takes in her Alpha's tear streaked face and red hands.
She walks quickly over, heals tapping a steady rhythm against the hard floor. George turns his face away when she gets close, feeling ashamed because he needs to be strong and an Alpha for her and Alex, and Alphas don't cry or lose control, and certainly not the President of the United States of America. . .
Martha turns the tap off, the sound of running water stopping suddenly and leaving them in relative quiet, broken only by Alexander's machines and the drip drip drip of the water hitting the floor from the wet shirt. Reaching up to cup the Commander's jaw in her hands, her frown deepening when she spots the tear tracks on her husband's face. George's dark ears fall back as their eyes meet.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" The Omega asks softly, feeling her mate grab her waist with shaking hands.
"I-I was- there was blood-Alex's blood-on my shirt, and I needed to get it off, Martha. I needed to get our puppy's blood off my shirt because it is my fault he is hurt, and I needed to get it off!" George sobs out the last part, feeling a part of him break as he thinks of his baby and how scared he is.
The First Lady shushes him, forcing his chin up when he starts to look down again. Her voice is firm when she speaks.
"It is not your fault, George Washington. Did you make those people hurt Alexander?" The Alpha shakes his head no, and Martha continues, "Did you force them to bruise his skin and break his bones?" The Omega answers for him before he even opens his mouth, "No, you did not. So I do not want to hear you blame anyone but the bastards that did! It is not your fault that Alex was so helpless, and it never will be."
The President pulls away suddenly, his grip on his wet work shirt tight enough to drip more water in the already large puddle on the floor. His face is a mask of pain, and Martha feels her breath catch in despair at the sight.
"He shouldn't have to feel helpless! I should be in there protecting both of you, but instead, I am in here crying over a few drops of blood like some overgrown pup! I am an Alpha, and I need to be strong and not show any weakness, especially not now."
The Omega places her cool hand on his arm, kneading the tense mussels until George sighs, letting go of the shirt so it falls into the drained sink. Wrapping her arms around his neck, the First Lady presses her head against the President's chest, the sound of his heartbeat filling her ears. His arms wrap around her, engulfing her in his scent as their tails entwine.
"You can show weakness around me, George. I love you so much, and I cannot stand the though of you beating yourself up over what you cannot change." She repeats his earlier works back to him, "'We cannot focus on what we could have done differently, instead we should think about what we can do now.' and that applies to you as well."
"But I am an Alpha. . . " The President protests, the argument sounding weak even to his own ears. Martha's voice is a whisper against his chest when she talks.
"I do not care if you are the King of the whole world, everyone needs to let go at some point. Showing weakness, and acting on it is what makes us human."
A/N: I really need to stop ending my Chapters with dialogue lol. Thank you for taking the time to read and don't forget to review!:)