Alex's POV

It's been a week. And he still hasn't responded. I don't know what happened to him. His arms are still bruised, bloody, and they seem to be getting worse. His arms are so limp, I have barely been able to work all day today. I couldn't even hold Philip when Eliza came over, because there were no strength in my arms.

I can't imagine the pain John's in right now. If he's even still alive...

No wait, George told me to stop thinking like that. He's not dead. He can't be. Could he?

"Alex? Are you in there?" I hear Eliza call from the other side of the door. I was currently sitting in my bed, trying my best not to have another panic attack.

"Yeah, come in." I say slowly. She opens the door and smiles sadly at me. "I thought you would have left by now..." I admit.

She shrugs. "Oh, you know how Martha gets. She starts talking and next thing you know it's been three hours." She chuckles softly.

She closes the door and sits at the foot of the bed. "I figured you'd be working." She says softly.

"My arms are really hurting...I'm sorry I know this job is helping us with childcare and everything but-"

"Alex, it's okay. You can take a break every now and then." She interrupts. "I'm worried about you..."

"I'm worried about John." I mumble. "These are his bruises and scars..And he still hasn't replied.."

She holds my hand. "No, Alex. I'm worried about you because you've been doing nothing but stare at your arms for a week now. Martha says you haven't been eating right, you barely even interacted with your son. You're not sleeping, anything like that."

"Jesus, I guess you really have been talking to Martha for hours..." I mumble as I stare at my arm some more. The words I had written were still there, but were a little smudged and covered in dirt.

"Alexander I'm serious. Come to the livingroom. Say hi to your son. Let Martha make you food. Ice your arms. Interact with other people." She says sternly.

"I don't want to interact with other people, I want to interact with John." I say, starting to get angry.

"I'm sure John is fi-"

"No, clearly he's not, Eliza." I look up at her finally. "Otherwise he would've responded and his arms wouldn't be getting worse. I can only imagine what the rest of him is like..He's hurt, hell, he's probably dead right now. So I'm sorry if I want to sit and mope around a little bit, but I do think I have the right to feel upset about my soulmate being in the current state he's in."

Eliza seems a little shocked, but stands her ground. "Of course you have a right to be sad. But that doesn't mean you need to ignore and get mad at the people who care about you and want to help you." She stands up.

I frown and stare at my arms a little longer, not giving a response. She sighs. "You know what, it's fine. I'll just take Philip home tonight, clearly you don't want to spend any time with him. Text me when you want to start acting like his father."

I don't look up at her, knowing her expression would make me feel even worse. She scoffs and I hear her open and close the door. I look up to see she is gone and I frown. She was right. I was a lousy father. I never really had a good role model, though.

There was another knock on the door and I frown, staring down at my arms again. I don't answer, knowing they were going to come in no matter what I say. The door opens and closes and I feel the weight on my bed shift as someone sits next to me.

"Go away..." I mumble.

"Actually, I thought you might want to say hi to your son." I hear George say.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "I thought Eliza took him?"

"Martha was able to convince her to let him stay. I think spending some time with him will do you some good." He says, placing him in my lap. He looks up at me and giggles, clapping his hands together.

I smile slightly. "Thanks George."

He rubs my back. "You know I'm always here for you.. Even though I know you don't always want me to be." He chuckles slightly, sounding almost sad.

"I'm sorry.." I frown. "I haven't shown very much appreciation for everything you have done for me. I really am grateful, I hope you know.."

He smiles at me. "I know." He sighs. "I'll leave you alone with Philip, okay?"

I nod and he leaves the room. I look down at my son. I smile slightly. This was my son. My own mini me.

He babbles to me and I chuckle slightly, holding him closer. My phone starts ringing and I hesitate to answer it, as it was from an unknown number. I eventually click "answer" and hold the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Hello, is this Alexander Hamilton?" The masculine voice asks from the other side of the phone.

"That depends, who's asking?" I poke Philip's nose as I talk to man and he looks at me with wide eyes. He flails his arms around and I smile at him.

"Sir, I'm General Montgomery. John Laurens is a soldier in my crew." He says.

My heart skips a beat. This couldn't be good.. "Oh um... Okay.." I say, biting my lower lip slightly. "Um yeah that's me.."

"Sir, we need you to fly to Texas as soon as possible." He informs me. "Your trip will be paid and we will keep in contact with you throughout your trip. Your flight is tomorrow at 1500 hours."

I look at Philip, who seems to realize something is wrong. I reach my hand to him and he wraps his hand around one of my fingers, smiling brightly at me.

"U-um... I'm sorry, what is this for?" I ask, trying to keep myself calm. "Why do I need to fly to Texas?"

"Laurens was relocated there after being injured. He woke up and asked for you." He says nonchalantly. "Any other questions?"

I smile brightly. He was awake. Injured, but alive.

"No, I will be at the airport tomorrow at 1." I pause. "Erm, 1300 hours."

"See you then, Mr. Hamilton." The phone hangs up and I smile down at Philip, picking him up. I hug him close and he squeals. I then stand up and go to the livingroom, holding Philip in my arms.

"George, Martha, will you watch Philip for me? I've got to pack!"

1139 Words

I'm sorry if I worried you with skipping John's POV aha..No reason to be worried. Right? Right..

:)