Hamilton Oneshots

Kind Hitman (Whamilton)

Trigger Warning: Death and Abuse

George Washington was never an emotional kind of guy, some even thought the man had no emotions at all. His only childhood memories were either intense training or preparation for the next training session. He was always told that emotions were a weakness, in fact, these emotions were basically beaten out of him. If he didn't feel empathy, he'd never have a problem killing somebody, he'd be reliable and a killing machine.

So, when he felt a deep desire in his heart, a desire to do something for another, he didn't know how to react.

It all began as a regular day, George walking around with a gray umbrella as he listened to the rain, walking down the sidewalk in solitude. That's usually how he spent his free days, literally just waiting for his phone to ring so he'd have a job to do.

However, in the midst of his brooding, he felt something or rather someone tug on his sleeve. He turned quickly to see who it was, making sure it was no threat. To his surprise, there was a small child before him, a rather small child. Not just small in size but weight too, a tiny little thing, clothes that were falling off of his tan skin, with brunette hair tangled into a rat's nest. What caught George off guard was the child's deep set brown eyes, they weren't bright with a childish innocence or sparkling with a playful notion. No, they were like mirrors of George's. Hallow, aged, determined, and serious.

With fingers shaking from the cold, the child held up what looked like pocket change, he was shaking so bad some of these coins slipped out of his fingers. With a shaky breath he made a request, "C-Can you kill my dad?" He sounded almost desperate, George was surprised at such a blunt request though the sidewalk was abandoned. How did this kid know who he was? However, the next thing this child said was what caused George to feel something in his world of emptiness, "I don't wa-ant him to hit me again..."

George didn't know what this feeling was. Anger? Maybe, probably, it was definitely there. Sadness? That was there too, he was relating to this child. His emotions beaten from him against his will. But what George felt the strongest from these was a need to help, he felt he had to help. He knew he could and in that split second he decided he was going to help this child in any way he could.

"Keep the money, kid." George said and pushed the money back, as the kid looked like he was admitting defeat George added, "I'll do it for free." He then took his coat off and draped it around the tiny boy's shoulders in an attempt to keep him warm, "Where do you live?" He always kept concealed weapons on him in case a situation came up, and this was one of those times.

"This way." The child took George's hand and lead him down an alleyway. The contact solidified one thing in the older man's mind, he was going to protect this child even if he had to kill everybody in the entire city of New York to do it.

"What's your name?" He asked, following the child and trusting him already.

"My name is Alexander Hamilton." The child responded and looked back at George with a grin though one of his front teeth was missing, he hoped it was from nature and not force, "I know a lot about you! My dad hired you once for his um...busy-nest partner." George chuckled slightly at the pronunciation, "You're my hero!" Did he feel something in his chest...something fuzzy? A hero? Him? He didn't care how the rest of the world viewed him anymore as long as this child loved him, he would be his hero.

Finally, they arrived at a beige colored house with a white picket fence, "This your place?" George asked, it looked innocent enough but he knew from his own upbringing that it's always the last place you suspect that harbors all of the secrets. Alexander nodded and went to go inside but George stopped him, "Best to stay out here little man." George told him. Alex nodded, choosing to sit in the yard while George headed inside.

The inside of the house smelled like mold, axe body spray, and bad decisions. George crept around inside a silver dagger at the ready, he peaked in every room until he found the fucker, resting in a depressed looking chair that looked like it had been deflated. George hurriedly sneaked up behind him until he was close enough, once he was confident, George grabbed the man's hair and as the man struggled he whispered, "This is what disgusting people like your ass get." He then stabbed the man where you'd check for a pulse because that makes the death a bit slower.

George watched the man flail, it made him happy to know a sick man like this one got what they deserved. Once the man was gone George slipped from the house, in one fluid motion he picked Alexander up, and kept walking. Alex didn't struggle, he just snuggled into George, and George vowed that from this day until his last day, he would be the protector of this small child.