Hamilton Whump

Hamilson sadness

Welp. Part 2 coming out soon for that one with me in it.

My name AINT CASSIE BUT DEAL WID IT.
Also Hamilton was like 5' 7" so I'm gonna tower over our poor bean...

Anyhow here goes...

Alexander tried to hold back tears as he rode away from the militia camp- away from a very angry George Washington, and away from his problems.

His feet barely made it in the rung, and his tears blocked his vision more than his red hair flying out of his ponytail.

Why is it he caused problems everywhere he went.
Every single time- nothing ever lasted.
He knew what Burr thought of him, he knew what Nathaniel Greene and Henry Knox thought of him, he knew what a lot of people thought of him.

But he never suspected Washington to be the same as all the rest.

Alexander didn't allow him to be an admitted Father Figure, but subconsciously he was the tough, leading fatherly-like man that was present in his short life.

But is that not what guarantees that people will leave? End relationships? The pushing towards something a little more- asking more than what the universe has given us that it decides to take it away completely, huh?

Flashbacc:

"No, you see sir, everything could be moved over to Jersey, and then we could plan an attack in the dark- loop around from the inside and spread out as everything becomes more dense-"

"Hamilton? Do you ever stop talking?"

Alex buffered, stood up as little straighter, and stepped back from the table where Washington sat.
Washington had a ticked little frown on his forehead, and the General looked rather done.

"A- apologies sir. I'll stop..."
What? The general was usually rather pleased to hear Hamilton's rants, ideas.

Most of the time?

"Thank-you. Go rant to one of your buddies."

"...So, dismissed, sir?" Alex asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes! Was that not CLEAR!?" The General raised his voice a little bit.

Hamilton was small already- just sitting down Washington was eye to eye with Hamilton.
So when George suddenly stood up the smaller man jumped- quickly saluted and tore out of the tent.

That was two days ago- Hamilton hardly spoke a word to the general the next day.
But that seemingly made things worse.

"Hamilton! A word," The general spat.

It was just after breakfast and Hamilton had been chatting with one of his friends- and the General had made his way up and pulled his away his Aide de Camp.

"Sir-?"
"When we get to the tent!"

The walk wasn't long, but the air was as tense as thick metal- at least for the aide de camp.

Washington wasn't tense- his posture suggested he was angry.
Eventually they made it inside the larger tent and Washington pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Listen. We have aggravated the troops to the south- your little stunt with Laurens the other day was real fun. Congrats."

"Sir, I-"

"No, okay!? This has gone on far enough, Hamilton. You play life like a game! Do you realize what would happen if we lost our troops to the other side down there!? We could lose in a single battle. No more anything. So I've decided you need a break."