A/N: And Chapter 16 is making an entrance! *crowd cheers* I hope you enjoy!:)
Trigger Warning for gun violence and death!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.
The Television is turned on low, the sounds of the cooking show a soft murmur that barely reaches George's twitching ears. He is pacing, back and forth across the tile floor, running his hands over his tie and dress shirt to smooth any invisible wrinkles. His mate watches him from their bed, closing the magazine she is reading with a snap.
"I still don't understand why you are so nervous." She reaches up to grab her reading glasses from her nose, pink nails bright, "You know that Jeremy Burr is the best Press Secretary you could ask for."
"I know, but-" The President cuts himself off with a groan, stopping near the window and glancing out.
Alex and Gilbert are in the courtyard, a neon orange frisbee being tossed between them, the open window blowing in their scents on a light breeze. His youngest Omega is still limping slightly, his head no longer wrapped up in the obnoxiously bright white bandages, a red line running from his forehead to his right ear. His face, when he turns toward the window, is barely bruised, the only indication of his injuries being a yellow and black speck on his cheek and chin, his cut lip scabbed over.
Laughter flows into the room, blocking the sound of the chocolate cake being made on the T.V. A few Agents stand around them, eyes wandering and feet shifting as the clouds start to thin. George glances around the grassy yard, checking for any signs of threats, and finding none, turns back around to face his Omega.
"You don't trust him." The First Lady says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and stepping down, her magazine slipping from her lap.
George shakes his head, reaching over to adjust the volume of the Television as a particularly loud car commercial blares out. "No, it's not that I don't trust him. I just don't trust the media. You know how they blow things out of proportion. Remember the Cheating Scandal of 2013?"
The Omega laughs, walking toward the open bathroom door, looking back to talk over her t-shirt clad shoulder.
"Trust me, how could I ever forget? I think your cousin was scarred for life."
George huffs in amusement, watching as the oak door is closed behind her. A swish in the curtain catches his attention, and the Alpha turns around just as Scarlet Harris walks hesitantly in. Her lime green dress is blindingly bright in the white interior, heels tapping on the cool floor.
"Good Afternoon, Mr. President," she says, reaching out one hand to shake the Commander's.
"Hello, Mrs. Harris." George replies just as Martha walks back out of the bathroom, her hand still slightly damp from washing.
"I just wanted to let you know that the Press Conference will be starting in around 10 minutes, sir. Would you like me to go get your sons?"
The Alpha shares a look with Martha, who shakes her head in negative, turning to look out the window at her babies. The Omega's are now sitting on a blanket, snacks spread out around them as they eat and talk, a more laid back Service Member sitting down beside them, her eyes covered by a pair of black sunglasses.
"No, I think they are fine for now. Thank you Scarlet." The First Lady says, giving the young Omega a smile as she changes the channel to the local News Network.
"Your welcome, Ma'am."
Shifting on her feet, the Chief of Staff gives a nod in acknowledgment, glancing between both Washingtons before turning and walking out. She walks back in after a few seconds, Jim Mulligan following close behind. After greeting the General, all occupants of the room take a seat and focus on the Television just as the Newsagent switches to the Press Room.
Jeremy Burr walks quickly into the now crowded room, the view on the T.V screen making him seem taller than he really is. An American Flag stands proud behind him, the red, white and blue getting ruffled by the slight wind blowing in from the air conditioning unit above. Flashes of cameras light up the Secretary's damp face, his dark skin a stark contrast to his pressed white shirt. He clears his throat, ears twitching as he waits for the Press to take their seats. Once the room is relatively quiet does he speak, the speaker on the Television filled with static.
"Good afternoon. Thank you all for coming. I will be answering questions one at a time, and if you need to ask something please raise your hand."
The Omega nods once, before pointing to an older women in the front row, her dark hair slightly grey at the roots. Her squinted brown eyes are locked onto Burr as he shuffles his papers. She stands up, her notebook and pen held out to start writing.
"Jessica Walker of New York Times. Can you tell us anything about the President's absence from the White House over the last 4 weeks?"
Martha shoots a quick look at her mate, brows raised in a silent question. George is quick to reassure her, squeezing her hand as he sits down further on the cot.
"It's okay, honey. I called Jeremy yesterday and went over what he is allowed to reveal. He knows any extra information given will not be tolerated."
"I cannot give you much information, as it is a open Investigation, but what I can tell you is that the President is currently staying in a unnamed Hospital while his youngest son, Alexander, recovers from severe injuries inflicted by an classified source." Burr says, tail flicking around the pedestal.
A murmur escapes the once quiet crowd, pen scratching quickly across notepads as information is collected. Hands of many shades pop up all at once, voice recorders held out to capture what cannot be written in time. Jeremy's dark eyes widen a fraction, the President knowing that he is more than capable of handling so many people, but feeling slightly sympathetic for the quiet man. The Press Secretary composes himself quickly, pointing with a steady hand to a younger gentleman in the middle row, his pink tie slightly wrinkled.
"David Horn of the CNN Newsroom, a unnamed source relayed that they had seen multiple Police and F.B.I. officers entering and obtaining boxes full of evidence from the address of 1224 Winfield Avenue. Can you tell us if this has anything to do with President Washington's recent visit to the local Criminal and Justice Facility?"
George watches Martha's reaction carefully, hoping that the reminder of his lie and meeting with Charles Lee wouldn't spark a negative reaction. Luckily all she does it shift closer to him, her scent sharp and bitter with anxiety. The Alpha growls soothingly, kissing her temple as her ears draw back slightly. In the corner of his eye, the President sees Scarlet shift in her seat, taking in the sight of the Meeting Room glowing on the screen. Jeremy licks his lips, reaching up to scratch at his nose as he answers.
"That information is classified. Next question."
Ignoring the huff of annoyance from Horn, the Omega continues to answer question after question, most being dismissed with a snappy Classified. It's when an older Alpha, an man with thinning brown hair and warm green eyes, asks a question what makes the whole room go quiet.
"Mr. Burr, you said earlier that President Washington's son, Alexander, was sent to the Hospital with major injuries. Was his condition life threatening and is he stable now?"
George looks at the Television in slight shock, not expecting a Reporter to care about the wellbeing of his baby. Most Press he had the pleasure of meeting only cared about the value of their story and not about the health of their subjects. Looking over at Mulligan, the President can see his disbelief is reflected in the Omega's brown eyes. His Press Secretary, when the Alpha turns back to the screen, is waiting for the whispers that fell throughout the room in the silence that followed the question.
"I'm sorry sir, but what is your name?" Jeremy asks, leaning forward above the wooden pedestal, his dark ears pulled forward in attention.
The man smiles, his teeth white and as straight as plywood. His ears twitch, tail flicking against the back of his chair as he stands up straighter. "Paul Revere. I'm with the Midnight Rider Newspaper."
"Alight Mr. Revere. Alexander's condition was not life threatening and he continues to get better everyday. Thank you for your question."
Burr leans back once the Alpha had nodded, sitting back in his chair and pen moving across his paper with vigor. Blinking, the Press Secretary shuffles his paper, glancing at the clock that seems to be located on the back wall, out of the view of the camera. George can tell the Omega is getting restless, his ears twitching and feet shifting.
"We only have about 5 more minutes left of this meeting, so any last minute questions must be asked now."
Pointing toward a red haired women in the back row, her yellow scarf bright between the layers of dark blue and black, the Omega waits patiently for her to stand up and ask her question.
"Molly Greyson of Fox News. Does the recent arrest of a Alpha by the name of Charles Lee, a retired Army Sniper, pertain to this case?"
The President waits for Burr's reaction with belated breathe, knowing that any hesitation on his part could mean the suspicion of every Reporter in that room. But the Omega doesn't even flinch, his eyes steady and voice collected.
"I'm sorry, but that information is classified." Getting the signal from his Agent, Jeremy waves his hands in a downward motion, trying to tell the Press to lower their many hands. "I'm afraid that is all the time we have for today. Thank you all for coming. May God bless you and God bless the United States of America."
The attended Journalists give the Press Secretary a round of applause as he gathers his notes and makes his leave. Once he is out of the room and the lights have dimmed do they start to get up and exit. The local News Channel- News 29- plays a small jingle before panning back to the newsroom. An African American women, gold earrings hanging from her perked up dark ears, starts to speak after a second.
"When we come back: Reading Between The Lines: how Secretary Burr answered some condescending questions and left us all still pondering what is happening in the White House."
The jingle is played again, the screen fading to black before a brightly colored juice commercial blares out, the announcers voice seeming to fill up the whole room. George quickly stands up, moving around the bed and grabbing the remote. Clicking the button, the Television is abruptly cut off, the only sound being the muffled talking from few rooms over, and the light breeze blowing into the window, the blinds clicking against the wall. Turning back around, the Alpha reaches out to shake Mulligan's hand as he steps over, Scarlet right behind him.
"I think that went quiet well, sir." The General says, his tail wagging slightly. "The Press are left with just enough information to satisfy their editors, but not enough to go into great detail."
"They are still asking questions. Questions that we cannot answer, not unless we want them to be all up in our faces." George argues, ignoring the frown that marks his mate's red lips. Squeezing her hand, the Alpha starts to walk over to the window.
He is stopped by Scarlet's voice, her scent getting carried away from him by the wind blowing in, goosebumps rising along her arms.
"They are always going to ask questions, Mr. President. Even if you tell them that the sky is blue, they will argue that it is orange. It's part their job, sir." She shrugs, smiling at her boss when he laughs, leather shoes squeaking on the tile floor as he turns back around.
"Quiet right you are, Ms. Harris." He says, his tone light. His voice suddenly drops, becoming serious. "I am going to need you to do some damage control, make sure that the Press don't stick their noses where they shouldn't be. When you get back to the White House, send me a copy of all stories pertaining to Alexander and his case. . ."
Martha comes over to join them, looking only once at the open window, where the silence that has fallen outside somehow louder then the laughter that sounded earlier. Her stomach drops in nervousness, and she raises a suddenly shaking hand to rest on her Alpha's shoulder. George sniffs the air, turning sharply around as the bitter taste of her fear scent settles on his tongue.
"Honey, what's wrong?" He asks, his teeth enlarging as he gathers her into his arms.
In the corner of his eye, the President sees General Mulligan talking quietly and ferociously on his almost invisible headset, his movements animated and agitated. Scarlet is taking notes next to the door, her notepad held out and pen scribbling. She stops though, once she notices the grim atmosphere of the room. Her tail subconsciously tucks between her legs and she carefully scoots closer.
Martha grips his arms, her claws drawing small drops of blood as they cut into his skin, her browns eyes widening in fear. "I think something is wrong with the boys. We need to-"
She is cut off by the sound of a shrill scream crashing into the room from outside.
With a curse, George races out of the room, ignoring the Agents that jump to attention as he passes. Turning his head, the President is pleased to see his mate running only a few feet behind him, her movements sharp and as agile as a snake. Her face is pinched in anger and worry, and she shifts suddenly, her smaller brown body slipping easily around him and racing toward the stairs. Snarling, the Alpha shifts as well, his paws thudding on the cool floor. Cocking his ears to the side, George listens as Scarlet and Jim pant behind them, their human legs no match for the wolves furious sprinting. Taking the steps 4 at a time, the President arrives at the bottom at the same time his mate exits the building, her growls and snarls edging him on as he jumps. Doctors and Nurses race to get out of his way as he runs through the lobby, his Secret Service Agents now ahead of him, their guns out and faces grim.
The Sunlight blinds him for a second, the smells of grass and birds disrupting his senses as he pants on the concrete. A commotion a few yards away catches his attention and the President races toward the scene, the colorful flowers that line the yard blurring as he runs. Martha waits for him a few feet away, not speaking but leaning close for comfort as they round the corner.
Alexander and Gilbert are surrounded by multiple News Reporters, more than the 4 Agents could hold back. The trespassers were shoving microphones in their faces, shouting questions that the Alpha couldn't make out, his ears flattened against his head as he sprints. Gilbert shoves himself in front of his brother, yelling at the Press in French. An Alpha male, a blond man with blue eyes, pushes his oldest child out of the way, causing Laf to fall into the dirt, his hands and knees catching him before he could hit his face. With a howl of fury, George makes it over to them, and throwing himself on top of the man, snarls as his mate begins to comfort their babies.
Alex is crying, his hands thrown over his ears as he rocks back and forth. Gilbert, trying to be strong for his younger brother, stands in front of him, growling at the men and women as they are forced back by Agents. Martha finally makes her way through the crowd, snarling at anyone that gets to close. Lafayette, his face falling and emotions finally snapping, leans down and wraps his arms around his mother's fluffy coat as she curls around her boys. Tears fall from his eyes, but he doesn't sob, his shoulders shaking slightly.
George shifts back into a human, pushing the man that violated his child back so that he stumbles, tail tucking between his legs as an Agent grabs his arms. The President turns around, crouching in front of his Pack, growling loudly the whole time. Flashes suddenly appear as the Journalists snap photos, the cameras clicking. Martha whimpers at the sound, tightening her now human arms around her children as they stop crying. Alex, lifting his red face from her chest, snarls for the first time, his brown eyes sharp as his mommy picks him up, Gilbert trailing behind them as they start to walk back to the room.
"I'm going to get them looked at. Take care of these people, George." She spits out, her lips curling up as her bodyguards line up around her.
The Alpha just nods, hoping the love he feels for them shows in his eyes. He watches as they quickly make their way across the lawn, ignoring the shocked stares of the other patients through the windows as Alexander's legs swing in time with her steps. Gilbert grips her hand, trying to control his breathing as she wraps an arm around his waist, kissing the top of his head as she starts to calm down. They disappear through the automatic doors without incident.
Taking a deep breath through his nose, the Commander tightens his jaw, turning to face the mass of Reports that are now held back by multiple Service Members. The Alpha that pushed Gilbert is in front of him, the sunlight shining against his yellow hair. He looks down, blue eyes squinting.
"How did you know we were here?" The President asks, his voice quiet and filled with anger. When no one answers, he asks again, watching as Mulligan paces in front of him, ears drawn back and hand positioned on his gun. "As your President, I command you to answer me. Where did you get your information from?"
A few people shift on their feet, some reaching down and fiddling with their equipment, before raising their hands when yelled at by the SS Officers. A young women, her Omega scent flowing into his nose on the breeze, takes half a step forward, raising her grey eyes in slight defiance.
"Technically, its 'who did we get our information from' not 'where'- " she says, voice sounding congested and sniffing with false dignity.
The Commander cuts her off, snarling. "You dare to come to a Hospital, where there are sick people, get into my children's personal space and hurt them, and then correct me on my grammar?!"
No one moves, and the Alpha, feeling restless, starts to pace. He goes back and forth, feeling all eyes locked onto his moving form as he cuts a trail in the sweet smelling grass. The sun is warm on his back, and if not for the circumstances, George would have enjoyed the relatively cool summer air on his damp skin.
"Senator Thomas Conway."
The soft voice stops the Commanders rapid movements, and turning around sharply, he sees an older women, her hair long and getting pushed in front of her hazel eyes. She lowers her gaze in submission when he steps closer, his Agents tensing but making no move to interfere.
"Excuse me?" George asks.
"Senator Conway told us where you were. I'm sorry if we hurt your children in anyway, President Washington."
Trying to hide his shock and anger, the Commander just nods, not trusting himself to speak. Looking over at Jim, George is pleased to see him beginning to lead the gang of News Reporters back to the front of the building, Agents following close behind.
Scarlet steps up beside her boss, her face pale and blue eyes wide. Her clipboard is still in her right hand, the metal clip glowing in the white light, reflecting the pale sky.
"Sir, what does this mean?" She asks, gripping her pen so hard her knuckles turn white.
"It means that Thomas Conway betrayed National Security. . ." George says quietly, slowly turning around and beginning to walk back to the room, tail drooping and ears twitching. ". . . and my trust."
A shout behind him catches his attention, and the Alpha turns around just as the blond male that pushed Gil breaks free of security and starts to sprint back toward them, his hand reaching into his front pocket. George instinctively pushes his Chief of Staff behind him, ignoring her noise of protest, as the unknown Alpha stops a few feet away, his blue eyes crazed and twitching. The President snarls, trying in vain to back up.
A flash of metal is all he sees before his Agents open fire.
"No, stop-"
But he is to late. 3 spots of red expand on the man's chest, one right above his heart and the other two on his right breast. A smile expands the Alpha's face, blood getting squeezed between his crooked teeth as his body fights to stay alive for a few more seconds. Drops of the rusty liquid slide down his chest, landing on the grass, the red and green mixing like a horrific version of a Holiday decoration. His eyes, locking onto George's one more time, go blank all of the sudden, like a candle that is suddenly blown out. He falls backwards, his now lifeless body hitting the ground with a hollow thump.
For a second, light hair is replaced with dark, and blue eyes are replaced with brown. The President shakes his head, clearing the image from his mind as cameras flash in the distance. Shouts make their way into his ears, Mulligan running and quickly taking the Alpha's arm, pulling him and Scarlet toward the door.
"Sir, you need to move." Is all he says, signaling with one hand for 5 Agents to block a path.
The President doesn't respond, his feet moving automatically as his mind races to keep up. He is vaguely aware of going into the Hospital, of stepping into the elevator and riding up to the right floor.
But all he can think about is the fact that New York Senator Thomas Conway betrayed him and the White House. And that his actions caused a man to die, even if it was suicidal.
Turning toward his Chief of Staff, George says in a calm voice for her to get a car ready to get him to Capital Hill, as soon as he checks on his Pack, his wolf still restless and snarling. She doesn't speak, only nods and walks away, her face pale and hands shaking.
"Ms. Harris?" The Alpha calls, feeling guilty when she flinches, turning around slowly as though she was getting ready for her execution. "Are you alright?"
Her face softens, hand reaching up to brush a blonde curl from her forehead as she answers with a quiet, "Yes, sir, I'm fine. I'm just happy you weren't hurt."
Smiling gratefully, the Commander turns back around, walking past the Nurses station. He choses not to look out the window, knowing that he will see the Paramedics hauling the man's body into the back of an ambulance. George shakes his head, hoping that his mate and sons didn't witness the shooting. The man's death still plays in his minds eye, mixing with his first kill like a bad horror movie.
No matter what, the game was changed as soon as the last breathe left that man's body. And George is going to get answers, what ever means necessary. Starting with Thomas J. Conway. And ending, hopefully, with Jane Lee locked up behind rusty bars.
A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D
(P.S: My Tumblr is Keep-A-Bucket-Full-Of-Stars. Come chat or just say hi! I also except prompts ;D)