History Has Its Eyes On You ~ A Hamilton Fanfiction (Book 1, Act 2)

Distant Faces

!!Warning!!

°~2 Months Later~°

(Y/N POV)

I began to regain my consciousness. What a dream... It recounted the moment just hours ago, whilst I was mourning Grandma's passing. A ring had appeared in front of me, and the instant I put it on, I was transported to a battlefield. From there, there were gaps in my memory, but the next thing I knew, I was taken in by Alexander Hamilton as his niece.

I had suddenly aged and decided to join the war by becoming a cross-dresser. There was little that I could recall, but  immediately I returned home and Emily was married to John Laurens? Well, from what I could interpret they were married, but they may have only been engaged. Then I was back in the war, fighting alongside an older soldier till we were held victorious. Time skipped once again, presumably a large amount of time, for I was now a grown adult. It ended with me running in front of carriage to save a young boy from death, and now here I was.

Back to my ordinary, youthful self.

I could have sworn that my alarm had not gone off... Perhaps I was so tired that I hadn't payed any attention to the noise. Grunting, I rolled over and stretched my arm out to reach for my phone; instead, my hand fell, sensing no desk. I hovered my hand around, and yet it fell on nothing. I squinted my eyes open... I couldn't say that I recognised the room.

Hadn’t I only just been in my room?

I didn't tend to sleep walk... Even if I had, this was not a room in my house. Had I been kidnapped? No... I would have woken up... Unless I had been drugged. But still, the room was... peculiar. I was on a canopy bed, four pillows lined into a neat row behind me. The mattress wasn't the most comfortable, but it was bearable that I was swiftly able to fall to sleep into it. The room did not seem... modern. It was old-fashioned, like something you would see from hundreds of years ago.

I no longer wore my uniform, either. At least I... I thought I had been wearing it. After my breakdown, it was hard to recall much, other than that I had passed straight to sleep on my very own bed. Now looking down, I wore some sort of... night gown? This couldn't have been another dream. It felt too real to be a dream. Perhaps all of this Hamilton nonsense had gone too far into my head and I was hallucinating... Damn you, Jeffrey.

Then all of a sudden a man walked in, an older man with withered skin. He was worn out and carried a tray holding a bowl of soup. My first instinct was to act as if I were fast asleep again, but he had already taken notice of me by now. Aware of the little amount of clothing I appeared to have, I took the quilt and used it to cover my chest, almost hitting myself in the nose as I did so.

The man, who as I concentrated began to look familiar, grew the largest smile on his face, one that I had never seen from someone so old. I was afraid that jaw would snap from the obvious amount of strain that he put upon the smile. Still wary, however, I did not let my guard down and continued to inspect the figure carefully.

"Oh, I was starting to believe that you would never wake up!" he exclaimed, hurrying for me.
"G- Get away!" I warned him whilst shuffling across the bed.
"I did not mean to scare you, child." he comforted, gaining a look of embarrassment. "I am your humble servant."

Perhaps this explained it: it wasn't out of the ordinary that this would would be living in such a house. However, what I couldn't explain was his style of clothing, too. It was a style that you would only see in the 18th and 19th Centuries. Was I still stuck in this dream? No, that couldn't be possible... It felt too real.

The man placed the tray down onto the bed, casually sitting himself down by my side. His smile returned, but this time it was from reassurance, not glee. "It was a miracle that you survived." he admitted. "You kept breathing, but you remained unconscious."
"...Where am I?" I questioned with a tint of fear in my voice. The more I looked, the more familiar he became.
He sniggered. "You don't remember a thing, do you, child?"

I gazed at his eyes, but from the intimidation, I soon looked away. There was something about him. A distant memory... Nevertheless, I shook my head at his question.

"Could I know your name?" the man enquired.
"...Y/N L/N." I spoke with hesitation.
He chuckled. "Now, that's not who I remember. No, the young lady I remember is Sophie Hamilton."

I furrowed my eyebrows. I recognised that name, yet I had never heard it in my life. I observed the man some more: grey hair, smart clothing, a kind complexion.

I began to remember.

"...Hugh? Hugh Mulligan?"
"Ah, so you do remember."
"I..." Scanning through my thoughts, all I could remember was the summary of the dream. I did not remember specific characters other than Emily, Alexander and John. But upon taking in his presence, the memories of Hugh Mulligan came flooding back at once. "...No, I can't remember a thing."

It was too real to be a dream. What if my dream had been reality? What if I did travel into the past? But... Why could I not remember? I went over it again: to save the life of a young boy, I ran in front of a carriage and sacrificed myself. I then, Y/N L/N, thirteen years of age, woke up, here, in Hugh Mulligan's household, with every thought a million miles away from reality.

So I landed at two conclusions: the first, I was in a dream within a dream, and the instant I somehow got myself killed again, I would be sent back to consciousness. And the second, this was all real and made to look like a dream for... whatever reason. My name was once Sophie Hamilton, and now I had just revealed my true identity to Hugh.

Shit.

"I- I mean, I am Sophie H-"
"I know who you are, Miss L/N." he confessed with a grin. "I've known right from the start. Mr Hamilton is a tricky one to keep his trap shut, isn't he?"
"...I wouldn't know." -I folded my arms- "I can barely remember him."

"It was strange." Hugh held his weight upon his hands, pressed firmly against the bed. "I arrived just following your apparent murder. You were in terrible condition, unrecognizable. Then, ever so slowly, your body shifted into, well, this." -He presented his hands out- "The first Y/N L/N that I had met."

My eyes flickered up to him with the realisation that he must have known everything. "Please, I'm not a witch, I swear-"
"You are not a witch, Miss L/N, I know." he chuckled. "Mr Hamilton spoke of everything, a long time ago."
"I'm sorry, I... I don't know what I told him."

Hugh smirked.

"You're from the future, Miss L/N."

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