Changing History

Chapter 2

(Y/n)'s POV

(F/n) came home late and boy did I have a story to tell them. "Guess who joined a fucking war today!" they nearly choked on their drink. The laughed, like it was a joke, but gave me a confused and concerned look. "W-wait—really!?" I nod. "Burr signed me up when I was with him, I also met this Samuel kid, he seemed nice, British, but nice," (F/n) snickered. "Who reacted worse?"

"Alexander, John and Hercules looked upset but Lafayette and Aaron seemed to understand," I respond as they get ready to cook dinner. They're such a (mom/dad) honestly. "I wonder if I'll have to do the same," they wondered aloud. I walked into the kitchen pantry and pulled out a container of dog food to feed Violet.

"Probably, I'm not going into war on my own," I answer. We laugh.

It was still light outside when we finished dinner so we decided to go back. The 17's were darkish, the sun was setting. I lead (F/n) down the cobblestone roads to the sign ups, where the people were STILL waiting.

"Is this a good idea? I mean, what happens if we die here?" (F/n) asks warily. I shrug at them. "More action here than at home, right? Besides, a hole day here is barely a few minutes at home, for some reason, I dunno, time is weird," they look at me weirdly, then sigh. "Sure, whatever," they signed the sheet.

"Coolio, now let's roam the streets!" They snort and we walk the New York streets, talking about our day and whatnot. "Damn, look like we can't get rid of them," (F/n) comments, dragging my attention forwards to a drunk quartet of men. Looks like Aaron Burr was missing.

"Hey boys, funny seeing you again," They greet, as we get closer. "Oh! Ishhh- Redly-boo and Blu-boo! How -hic- nice to meet you. Swear I -hic- drunk not I'm... wait," Alex slurs in a heavily drunken tone. "REEEEDDDD~ Have I ever mentioned -hic- that you kinda look like a girl~?" John slurs, ignoring Alex as he pushed past the shorter and wraps an arm around my neck. "We've met twice," I deadpan. "LAISSE-LES ÊTRE ILS LES QUI SONT JOHN!" Lafayette yelled in a drunken rage. All I understood was "John".

"I don't know what you just said- but I disagree," John retaliated. "GUYS! STOP FIGHTINGGGG," And Hercules was clinging to Alex's leg crying. What the ever-living fuck? I fish into my pocket and pull out the paper with Hercules and Alexander's address on it. "Wanna take 'em home?" I ask casually. "Better us than some muggers," (F/n) replied, sparing the group of drunk boys a look. John and Lafayette were yelling at each other, Alex seemed to be trying to stay awake and Hercules was clinging to his leg like a puppy.

We somehow manage to drag the quartet to the house/shop place Hercules and Alexander stayed at with Hercules's wife, Elizabeth. She thanked us and we went on our way home. As predicted, the sun was only a just starting to set at home.

"God, I smell like shit," (F/n) cursed. We both smelt heavily off the second-hand liquor from the boys. "Have a shower than," I replied like a smartass. They snort in half-assed amusement as they make their way to the bathroom. I mess around on my phone while I wait for my turn.

"Red! Where the fuck is my shampoo!?" (F/n) calls. "I don't know!" I shout back. "Can you look for it in my room!?" I groan loudly. "FINEEE!" I huff, placing my phone on the table and venturing into their room. I find their toilet bag for traveling, eh, it was close enough. "IS YOUR TOILETRIES BAG OKAY!?" I yell. "AUGH! I guess!" I walk shamelessly into the bathroom and hold the bag out for them.

We'd bathed together as kids and we'd know each other all our lives. Neither of us were fazed by this. "Thanks..." They glared at me and I grin smugly and leave the bathroom. I enter the kitchen and stop. "Where the fuck is my...?" I'm sure I left it on the table.

I grab my keys and press a button on a tile I had connected to the keychain, usually this was so I could find the keys but it works vice versa. I heard the reply jingle from... above me. Oh, HELL no! I curse under my breath and walk into the hall with a chair. I use the appliance to pull the attic stairs down and I crawl up. Why did my phone of all things disappear?? I followed the jingle until I found a dead end. But I could still hear the jingling.

I pressed pressure to the wall and to my surprise, it wasn't very sturdy... it was a fake wall. Behind it was what looked like a room in the attic. Someone's been fucking living here!! There were dog biscuits, a collar of Violet's that went missing, pillows, blankets and food wrappers everywhere, along with my phone and a person. The goddamn mastermind.

The person was sound asleep, somehow, so I slowly grabbed my phone and booked it down the stairs. (F/n)'s door was open and they were half dressed when they saw me. "The hell, Red?" They asked. "There's someone in the fucking attic!!" I whisper-yell at them, dialling 9-1-1 on my phone.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" The operator asks. "There's someone in the attic of the apartment I share with a friend, I don't know who they are and I found them looking for my phone," I explain quickly. "Okay, dear, I need your address," I hurriedly give the operator the details she needs and she says there's going to be a police car there soon.

When the cops arrived, I sent the upstairs. They came back holding the person I'd seen before. She had wild brown hair, like it hadn't been brushed or cut in years and crazy eyes that darted everywhere. Her clothes were ragged and she reeked, she jittered and spasmed in the officer's grasp, but when her eyes met mine, she stopped and uttered a bone chilling sentence.

"Stay away from the basement,"

That set to officers off so one stayed back to ask questions. We told him we'd just moved in and I was helping (F/n) -now dressed- with something and how this whole ordeal happened, and yeah, we lied about the basement thing. Like hell we were gonna give up the time travelling thing. They'd either think we're crazy, or it'd be confiscated by the government and given to scientists or some shit. Not. Happening.

I went for a shower myself then in order to relax. Once I was done and dressed I sat on the floor in front of the T.v blaring some movie (F/n) put on. They were greedily stretched out across the couch. I heard them shuffle and then their hands found themselves massaging my shoulders.

"You're tense," They commented. "Not shit," I replied, rolling my eyes. "You're stressed too though, with work?" I ask. "Yeah, those officers were from our precinct, but they're not part of the inner circle so I didn't quite catch their names,"

I snort. "That's a bitch move," They shrugged. "Yeah, well, what can ya do?"

"Hey, how's (L/I)?" I ask. {(L/I) = Love interest}

Their hands go stiff. "(S-She/H-He)'s fine, work is good," (F/n) stuttered. I roll my eyes again. "You're so fucking hopeless,"

"Shut up!"

...

I didn't really get a good sleep that night.