Hamilson and Washingdad one-shots

Wounds (request)

TW: Bullet wound, blood and pain (very mild but felt I should put something as a trigger warning)

This request was given to me by Bipanick365, so thank you!

 Alexander clutched his arm, a faint streak of blood trailed down his blue wool jacket. He hadn't realized it on the battlefield, something he blames his adrenaline on. But now the boy was alone in the darkness, a hole in his jacket and blood on his arm.

Alexander tried to play it cool, he asked Hercules for a new jacket, saying he's got 'mud all over' which was the worst lie he ever told but it worked. He spent the rest of the day moping around the camp and trying not to hiss when his injury spiked.

It was hard to write saying as he couldn't use his right arm but everyone just thought Alexander was tired.

Like, yeah he was tired but the man had also been shot.

It wasn't a day or so later that someone took notice.

Washington entered the large tent, ducking his way inside to ask Alexander a quick question on a report. "Alexander."
The man looked up, startled by the silent and sudden entrance of his general. "Oh, um yes sir?"

The man watched Alexander with narrowed eyes, "Yes, I was wondering if you finished the report for congress I had you make two days ago."

Alexander searched his brain for any recollection of the letter. "I believe i haven't finished it yet sir."

Washington nodded in understanding, "Alright Alexander.'' The man turned to leave as Alex picked up his quill. Sadly that's when the pain came back.

The pain was as quick as the bullet that had entered his skin. Quick and hot yet blinding all at once. It made the man gasp and clench his fist, his eyes slamming shut and the man wished in hopes that the pain would ease.

"Alexander, are you ok?" Washington asked, his moment slowed when he heard Alexander hiss in pain and had turned to face the young man.

"I'm... fine sir, nothing I can't handle." Alexander said quickly.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Washington asked as he moved closer to Alexander, concur seeping into his steely gaze.

"I'm fine ok? Just a little tingle noth-"

Washington grabbed Alexander's arm and yanked his sleeve up.

Silver metal glinted from its bed of dried red blood. A crate had been driven into his flesh and Alexander couldn't help but turn away at the sight of it.

Washington sucked in his breath and looked up at Alexander. "When?"

His voice made it clear he wasn't looking for anything but the truth, as Alexander reluctantly gave in. "Just yesterday, or whenever we got in that last gun fight."

"Three days ago?" Washington asked.

"That was three days ago?" Alexander responded, his confusion becoming more apparent.

"We have to get you to the doctors now son-"

"I'm not your son." Huffed Alexander, "Besides I'm fine, see?" As Alexander picked him the dropped quill the pain hit again, its icy flash shocking Alexander to drop his quill once more.

"You're not fine, now stop fighting me and come on. You need medical help."

"No one even noticed, I'm fine."

"No. You're not. The Alexander I know would never let a letter to congress sit on his desk unfinished. You're in pain."

"I'm fine!" Alexander emphasized again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"Come on, you need to get that bullet out of there before it gets infected, surprised it isn't already."
Upon arriving at the medic's tent, Alexander was brought in the a flurry of panicked doctors. Much to Alexander's annoyance, the men flushed over him and poked at his wound. Alexander turned away and hissed at them but Washington lay a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Quite son, let them help you."

"I am not your son."

I should go to bed... nah its fine writing is way better

vote. pls. 

- Riley