Wasn't Meant To Be : Jamilton [Completed]

Chapter 44: The one with George Washington

However, Alexander didn't go home. Instead, he prayed that George Washington still lived where he was back when he fostered the immigrant. He walked the long 19 miles to Georges's home, covering his cheek and sweating nonstop.

George was definitely home. He was working out in his so-called gym, which was really just the room above his garage. When the grading was done, when it was too early for dinner, and he didn't have a detention shift, exercise was all he could think to do. It filled the time.

Alexander hesitated, before knocking on the door a few times

George heard the door and his French hound, Tipsy, immediately ran up the stairs to get him. "I heard it, I heard it," he assured the dog, wiping his forehead off with a towel and heading down the stairs. The dog followed on his heels the whole way to the door. He opened it already apologizing for his state. "I'm sorry, I was--Alexander? What's wrong? Come in." He stepped out of the doorway. 

Alexander only moved to hug the other tightly, not bothering to walk completely inside. He whimpered. "I'm sorry...."

"Oh." He pulled the boy inside and held him to his chest. "It's...it's alright. Whatever happened, you'll be alright." He closed the door. 

Once the door closed, Alexander let it all out, sobbing into George's chest. "It's not alright." he cried. "It's not...."

George hesitated but stroked Alexander's hair anyways. "Alright, alright..." Tipsy was sniffing at Alexander's leg excitedly, so George commanded her, "Backyard, Tipsy." The dog took off out of the foyer, leaving him able to comfort the boy. "What can I do for you, Alexander? How can I make it better?"

Alexander looked up at George, his bruise becoming quite visible. "I-i....i don't know, s-sir..." he looked down. "Y-you're a-a-all I have.." he whispered.

The sight of the bruise in George like a fist in the gut. He almost cursed but caught himself. He managed to remain cool and calm as he said, "Okay. Come on. Let's get some ice on that." Keeping the young man close, he started leading him to the kitchen. 

"Well, I'm sure you've learned now," he replied, only letting go to get him a bag of ice from the freezer in the kitchen. "Take a seat, Alex. Do you want anything to eat? Anything to drink?" He hesitated. "I...I have alcohol if you really need it to relax. I think we can ignore a law or two tonight."

"I don't need a drink, sir.... thank you..." Alexander sat down at the dining room table. He looked up at George. "Thank you for actually letting me in....?"

He sighed and handed him the bag of ice. "Would I ever tell you no, in a situation like this?"

Alex shrugged, taking the bag and putting it to his bruise. "You turned me down at school....." he mumbled.

"Yes, well, Alexander, I've just been under a lot of stress lately," he explained. "I was planning on making a run to become principal of the school, but...somebody...has been spreading rumours about how I act around...certain students." He sighed. "You don't need to worry about it. But I'm here for you now. I promise."

"Whoever spread those rumours are just horrible." He pursed his lips. "And... you really should be principal, sir. I understand if you were stressed..."

He shook his head. "That's not what matters, Alex. All that matters right now is how you're doing." He sat down next to him at the table.

Alexander took a shaky breath. "I was at Thomas's house, going up to his room with him... he was drinking alcohol and threw the glass behind him and I caught it... He got all mad at me for not dropping it and letting it break. We began to fight and he punched me. I broke the glass when he did..."