Hamilton Oneshots

200 years // Leerens

Laurens sat up, rubbing his head and looking around. The room was bright, too bright to be healthy. He shut his eyes and let his head fall against the table he was laid on.

"Fascinating," someone muttered under their breath. Laurens slightly opened his eyes in search of the source of the voice.

"Can you move your legs?" the person asked, sounding as if they were on his other side now. Laurens flopped his head back over, seeing someone in a white coat, holding a brown board he couldn't identify. He bent his legs, feeling stiff as if he hadn't moved them in years. The person walked around, writing stuff down, clearly not focused on the brightness of the room.

"Can you shut the damned draperies?" he asked. The person looked at him with confusion before walking away. A few beeps sounded and the room was about half as bright.

"Is this better?" the person asked.

"Yes, thank you," Laurens said, sitting up. He got a better look at the person in the white coat. They had dark, short hair, indicating a man in Laurens' head. They also wore a matching blue, oversized pair of clothing under the white coat.

"...Who are you?" Laurens asked, trying to connect everything. The last thing he remembered was fighting and getting shot. He moved his hand to where the bullet hit him, feeling almost nothing but his body and a thin cloth covering him.

"Allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Doctor Charles Lee, head of biological anthropology. I'm going to be the only person who sees you for a while until all my studies are complete, Mr. Laurens," Lee said, walking around again.

"...I have no idea what any of that meant, what do you mean studies? Why can't I just see my wife and daughter?" Laurens asked, watching the fast movements the doctor made.

"To put it simply, they're both dead. So were you for, uhm... give or take two hundred years," Lee said, making more notes.

"Two hundred years? No way that's possible, it still has to be 1782," Laurens said, getting up quickly.

"Subject died 1782 when most had believed," Lee muttered as he wrote.

"No, there's no way it's the future, no possible way," Laurens said, curling up a bit.

"Hey, man, just relax, okay? It won't take long for you to adapt, alright?" Lee said, with a half-smile. Laurens copied it and looked around the room once more.

"So, how did you dim the room quickly?" he asked, not finding any curtains or candles.

"Light bulbs and light switches," Lee said. Laurens made a confused face but didn't ask any more questions.

"...How am I alive after so long?" Laurens asked.

"I don't know your whole story, but for the last 20 or so years, you were definitely in a bio-freezer," Lee said. He wrote more stuff down and went to the only thing on the wall. A few more beeps sounded and the wall made a door appear. He left, the wall sealing behind him. Laurens quickly became interested, going right to where the door was. His legs were a little wobbly, but he eventually reached the door, running his hand, trying to find an edge to pull free.

"Enter fingerprint or pin," a monotonic female voice said, scaring Laurens. He stared at the thing on the wall and pressed the flat bit.

"Hello, John Laurens. I am Sarah, your A.I. assistant, how can I help you?" the same monotonic voice said. Laurens could've sworn Lee said that he would be the only person interacting with him, not this Sarah person.

"Uh... Hi Sarah? Can I, uhm, leave?" Laurens asked, pressing at the door area again.

"Exit not permitted. Is there anything else I can help you with?" Sarah said. Laurens groaned and stepped away from the door.