Chapter 10
Entering Washington's office, Hamilton was greeted with a firm punch to the stomach, effectively knocking the air out of him and dropping him to the floor. Washington stepped over him and locked the door, turning to crouch over the gasping man. Grabbing a fistfull of hair, the general yanked Alex's head off the floor, pulling their faces close enough for their breath to mingle.
"You're a little whore, you know that Alexander?" Washington started, his deceptively calm voice filling the young man with fear. "Imagine my surprise when, out of nowhere, Aaron Burr comes to me about injuries you seem to have suffered from. Weeks, he says he's known, fucking weeks!" He punctuated the word by slamming Hamilton's head onto the floor, only to drag it back up, ignoring the low whimpers his subordinate was trying to quell. "Were you going to come to me about this? Better question, how did this come to his attention at all? I warned you about talking, Alex. Clearly I need to reinforce that lesson. Pity, since you had been so well behaved. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Here the general lowered his ear to Hamilton's mouth, waiting for a response.
"I-ah-I d-din't tell h-him anyt-thing, ah he ripped m-my collar, s-saw. I would never t-tell anyone, I did-dn't tell anyone!" Hamilton pleaded, still trying to suck air into his lungs.
"Regardless, this is still your fault, which means you need to be punished. You'll go back to our tent and wait for me. Try to leave and it will be even worse once I find you, do you understand?"
"Yes, s-sir." With that, the grip in his hair loosened, and he was yanked by the arm up to stand. Straightening his jacket, Alexander unlocked the door and left the office, heading to the tent to await his punishment.
Reaching his destination, he got undressed and sat on Washington's bed. He knew waiting in acceptance would save him a little pain in the end. He couldn't stop the sobs wracking his frame however, as he succumbed to the fear of what was to come. He had never been severely punished by the general before, but he knew it wouldn't be pretty.
"Fuck you, Burr. 'You're welcome' yeah, I'm oh so grateful for your intervention. Fucking prick." Hamilton cursed under his breath, hot angry tears clouding his vision. Alex just sat there on the bed, awaiting his fate. It had been only right before dinner, so he knew he only had a few hours at most. He dared not leave his spot, however, and simply waited. Soon it was dark, and he heard the telltale footfalls of his commander. Sitting up straighter, Alexander held his gaze on the tent entrance, meeting Washington's gaze as he appeared. Stalking over to the younger man, George pushed him back on the bed, holding him down forcibly as he brought his face closer to Alex.
"You know that you deserve this, I'm doing this so that you can properly learn this lesson. You need to remember who you irrevocably belong to. So don't fight. And if you make noise, I'll make this so much worse." With that, the general released the bruising grip on the young man and retreated to a table on the other side of the tent. He shed his clothes before grabbing a knife from one of the drawers. He picked up the candle on the desk and made his way back over to the bed, running the knife blade through the flame as he did so. "You'll do as I say. Now turn over."
AN: Sorry for the cliffy, but I just couldn't resist. The picture in my head of him walking over is just too intense for me to not end the chapter there.