Hamilton Oneshots

something (vent) // Kingsbury

tw for mentions of previous abuse , and daddy issues

this is a vent writing bc , hahahah 😀 i cannot stop thinking and it was 5 in the morning

Samuel needed to be away from George whenever the later was drunk. Normally, he'd stutter something that would be an excuse, but tonight he just stayed quiet as he went to bed. He didn't fall asleep immediately, but laid awake, his mind wandering to if he should check on George.

The door opened, hitting the wall roughly. Samuel jumped at the sound, thinking of the amounts of times he heard his father opened his door when he was asleep as a kid. George walked in, heading straight for Samuel, turning to the closet quickly. He was going to make a hole, just like your father, Samuel's head told him. Samuel squeaked at the thiught, trying to get away. The closet door slammed, though in Samuel's head, it sounded similar to the dry wall caving under his father's fist. George turned to him, looking only tipsy, but that did nothing to ease Samuel's mind.

"Sammy?" George asked, walking closer. Samuel scooted back, worried George would hurt him. He has yet to hurt Samuel, but maybe, just maybe he could be an angry drunk like his father.

"D-don't... please," Samuel whimpered, still scooting away. He felt himself fall off the bed, his legs getting caught in the blanket. Nonetheless, he still tried to get further away. George could be just like his father.

"Don't what? Samuel, what are you talking about?" George asked, looking at Samuel raising his arms and legs to hide what mattered the most.

"Samuel, what's going on?" George asked. Samuel felt the hot tears burn on his face, not even bothering to wipe them or to run off. It never worked, besides he knew George was stronger than him.

"D-Dad, please get out of my room," Samuel cried out, still holding his arms up. His breathing hitched as he realized what he said. George looked confused, freezing in his steps.

"Sorry... I'm sorry, don't be mad, please don't be mad," Samuel said, lowering his limbs. George stared at him, taking another step. Samuel raised his defenses again, preparing for something.

"I'm not mad, Sammy, but we might need to talk about this. If you're comfortable, okay?" George said, leaving quickly. Samuel crawled back onto the bed, pulling a pillow close. He sobbed at the memories that forced their way up, the ones that seemed to only cloud his vision when drunken George was around. The closet was closed, making him wonder if George actually punched into the wall, or if he just imagined the sound. His mind told him that there was a hole in the wall, one that was a warning to him that he would've gotten hurt. His back stung from the fall, but he pushed the feeling away, worrying more about his thoughts. He was barely able to fall into a restless sleep, plagued with nightmares generated from his night. George hitting him, taking out any pent up rage. His father replacing George in the scenario. His mother's pleas to his father to not wake up poor Samuel late at night. The need to lock his door late at night. He woke up several times in a cold sweat and in tears. By the second time, he locked the door, swearing he noticed George in the hall, peering worriedly into the room. By the fourth time, he remained asleep for the rest of the night. In the morning, he opened the door, George immediately hugging him tightly, and making Samuel even more frightened.

"Put me down?" he asked meekly, as if he was only asking for a candy bar at the store. No, even that was more confident that what he sounded like. George complied, holding Samuel at arms length, worry flooding his eyes.

"What in the world happened last night? You kept crying, and locked the room," he said, his hand reaching up to trail along Samuel's face. Samuel flinched unintentionally, pulling himself free from George.

"Nothing happened, I promise," Samuel said, looking anywhere but at George. He's never mentioned anything about his childhood to George, or to anyone for that matter. Sometimes it was from his refusal to discuss it, other times, it was just the fact he couldn't recall the memory. Only his family was completely aware of it, but even then, there was some omitted things that happened behind shut doors. The degradation of minor things, things that didn't need to be perfected, not because they were so minuscule, but because they were things that weren't meant to be perfect. George looked confused, probably from the casual deflection of his worries to a "nothing". It was obvious that he knew something was up, but didn't want to make Samuel uncomfortable. He reached out for Samuel again, but Samuel backed away, making it obvious he didn't want the touch. George pulled his arm back and nodded.

"I'll give you some time. I'll be in my office if you need to talk," he said. That was when Samuel broke down, putting his arms tightly around George, desperate for the comfort he normally felt by this. George lightly ran his fingers over the dips of his spine, giving the needed comfort. Samuel kept crying, muttering apologies. George didn't say anything, but moved them to a seated position, where Samuel crawled into his lap, still in hiccuped tears.

"Breathe, dear, breathe. Nothing's going to hurt you, I promise," George said. Samuel tried to follow George's breathing, though he was constantly disrupted by a hiccup. He tried to get closer to George, holding tightly on his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. George shook his head, letting his hand play with Samuel's hair.

"Don't apologize, okay? You've done nothing wrong. Do you want to talk about it?" George asked. Samuel shook his head and pressed his face into the crook of George's neck. The familiar smell of faint cologne on George gave him a comfort nothing in the world could.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Samuel mumbled.

"Again, don't apologize. The one thing you need to know is that I'll forever worry about you, because I love you," George said, kissing just above Samuel's ear. Samuel made a strangled sob, holding George tightly.