A new kind of stupid ( one shots )

This is some sad shit right here

Tw? - death, mental breakdown of sorts
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December 14, 1799
Mount Vernon, Virginia

Alexander sits by the former president, supporting him as he breathes his last. The air is still and the tension obvious. It's clear, though no one will admit it, the veteran will not make it past tonight.

Alexander sits quietly, watching as people come in and out of Washington's room. They hold his hand, talk for awhile and leave. There is some kind of depressing nothingness in the quiet that emitted off of Alexander.

Washington would not admit it, wouldn't want to risk making Alexander feel guilty, but seeing him in this quiet mourning bubble of unease is distressing. Something else he would like to refrain from admitting is that he only had a couple breaths left.

Martha is called back to his side and the last guest he shall see would be Alexander. "Sir, please don't leave us..." It's a pitiful begging that breaks Washington's heart. The once feisty man with unwavering spirit seemed so distraught at the thought of Washington's death.

Alexander breaks off into quiet rambling about why Washington could absolutely not leave them. Could not die on them. Martha squeezes Washington's hand and gives him a slight smile.

Her bright eyes are dull that night but she tries her best to put on a show and Washington loves her just a little more for that. He takes his hand from Alexander, who stood rambling at the loss, and cups her cheek. She leans into the touch and the couple smile lovingly at one another.

He looks from Martha to Alexander and back to Martha. "Take care of him please," he barely is able to mouth the words to her as tears well in both their eyes. Martha nods and lets go of his hand.

Washington struggles to turn to Alexander.

"Sir?"

"Don't do anything stupid, Son"

Alexander is about to crack a joke about his statement when Washington cracks out the last word. Some twisted form of anger sets into Alexander and his eyes widen.

"DON'T CALL ME SON!" He screams although it is really more of a plea, Alexander being too tired to really be mad.

Washington pays no mind and continues on with his last words. He does not get to finish.

The time is 10 o'clock when Washington utters out "Son" and goes limp.

Alexander doesn't seem to register his limp body and instead flares up at Washington's use of the word "Son".

"CALL ME SON ONE MORE TIME!"

Alexander is standing and flailing his arms wildly in the air. The world goes into a horrifying whirl of panic and it seems to really set in that the general now lay before him lifeless.

There are a thousand voices screaming, struggling to be heard amidst each other in Alexander's mind. In this moment, Martha is trying to come to terms with the death of her beloved and stays where she is, tears cascading toward the floor, off her cheeks.

And so, to Alexander, there shall never be comfort for him again. His Father has run off without him. His Mother and Cousin have left him to fend for himself. His Best Friend had left him to fight alone. And now, George Washington had abandoned him.

Alexander is throwing things around the room. He is spinning around in his spot and flinging his arms left and right as he cries out horrifically. His hand knocks a bunch of things off the bedside table that stood next to him and is slightly bloodied form crashing into the mirror that stood above.

He doesn't seem to notice because he keeps on screaming. His screams are a deafening wailing tone and now his hands have gone to catch his head as he collapsed to the ground.

He looks up to see Washington's limp pale hand hanging freely from the bed.

The screaming stops. The tears stop. There is but one voice that rings out. And even then, it is one that is shaky and cracking.

"Call me Son one... more... time..."