(Uh... IT'S BEEN A WHOLE MONTH I'M SO SORRY D': 
1. My new bio is FULL of Hamilton references b/c I'm a glittering pile of Hamiltrash. Srsly check it out!
2. TFW your personality matches Aaron Burr's SO MUCH it physically freaks you out. You understand why he did what he did. And then you fall in love with the guy????!!!
3. LIN WAS CALLED "AN AMERICAN MIRACLE" AT THE OSCARS!!!)

"What's the chance that Alexander won't get his hands under Eliza's dress tonight?" Hercules grinned at me as I thoughtfully watched the newlyweds dance together.

"Wha—They got married five minutes ago!" I tried not to imagine them staying up at night to do things other than sleep.

Eliza's veil swished around as she did a little twirl around Alexander. Their laughter rang across the room, louder than any conversation. In that moment, their lives seemed to revolve around one another.

"Anyway, I heard about you and John."

My spine went rigid. "You did?" The drink in my hand suddenly tasted stale. "Herc, I'm so sorry if and when I offended you all... I was intoxicated, and I know that's a horrible excuse, but it all seems so confusing to me..."

Hercules raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but brushed it off. "John was affected the most that night. He's been writing fewer essays on the abolishment of slavery ever since you made that comment about George Washington and the type of people you think we should be."

There was a hidden, unassuming snarl in his voice that shook me to the core.

His message? Apologize or else.

"Alexander hasn't heard yet, but he did notice John being a little more subdued at the party we threw for him. He doesn't look the part, but he's worried for John. In fact, he says he has 'so much work to do.'" The edge in Hercules' voice was gone, replaced by disquiet.

Dazed and distracted, I looked over at Alexander and Eliza, who were still throwing themselves in circles in the heart of the room.

You're a doctor. You make people better. Just breathe.

A cool breeze ruffled my hair and I turned towards the door.

A curly, brown-haired someone slipped quietly out of the room.

"John." I tried to say his name clearly, but all I heard was a squeak.

I exited the room. "John."

He took one look at me and scowled. I winced internally.

"John Laurens, I am so deeply sorry for what I said three weeks ago."

A pause. "I s'pose you should be grateful I never told him."*

"Told... who?"

"General Washington."

Another pause. "Thank you," I blurted.

The sharp, forced nod in return shook something in me.

"It's just... John... I have to tell you something. It relates to the argument we had. Can we... can we go somewhere more private?"

Silently he walked to the edge of the garden. I followed, my gut twisting in apprehension.

"I'm not certain you'll believe me—" I began.

"Out with it."

I gulped and said, "I come from a place you would dream of."

He raised an eyebrow, looking almost impatient. In the dim light from the candles inside, his freckles seemed to shine out much more than any other feature.

"Um, so, slavery is outlawed."

Watching John's expression go from irritable to shocked was almost painful. His voice caught in his throat. "Slav—slav'ry—how..."

"The place is very accepting of change," I justified.

"What..."

"Women don't have to stay inside the house the whole day. Dark-skinned children go to school, and you can love anybody and, in fact, everybody and not be judged by—"

"Stop!" John's voice wavered violently in the twilight. "Please... stop."

He sat down on a bench, putting his head in his hands. After a silence that seemed to last forever, he murmured:

"Anybody?"

"Sorry?"

"You can love... anybody? Gender ain't a problem?"

"I don't see the harm in it."

"But... but it's wrong."

"John, I am not quite sure what you mean when you say that loving anybody is wrong," I said firmly.

"It ain't possible now!" He burst out.

"Well, it certainly is possible where I come from! A woman can love a man just as much as a man can love another m—"

John's head snapped up and he faced me, and I shut up immediately. His eyes were crackling with denial, shock, curiosity and hope, and he was trembling so violently that the light flew on and off his freckles constantly.

"If it's possible in the future, then... when did you come from... Katherine?"

I took a shaky breath. "The... the 21st century."

He didn't move.

"Specifically, the year 2016."

He blinked once.

"I live in a city called Seattle." The sentence was so easy to say aloud that it was almost laughable; no one on the East Coast knew what Seattle was.

"What's the province? Or state? And the country...?"

Oh my god this isn't happening. I decided to rush it all out. "The state is called Washington and the country is called... the United States of America."

John's mouth fell open, but he quickly closed it. "Well, I'll be damned," he breathed.

"Yes, it's a lot to take in," I muttered. "Pretty wonderful, if you think about it. That's also the reason I gave you that coin—a quarter dollar. Twenty five cents."

"What about shillings?"

"Money's advanced, too. I'm sorry I burdened you with all this... but please don't tell anyone, especially Alexander—he'll yell it to the world."

He laughed shakily. "It's like you're livin' in some sort o'... utopia."

"You wish!" I cackled. 

"How'd you mean, you wish?"

"Never mind." Then I remembered the other reason I came to speak with him at all. "John... people in our time saw you all as heroes."

"Did they now?"

"They had... uh, different faces than you do. But they're still the same people; they still did the same great things."

"What great things? Your world doesn't happen to have stories 'bout us... right?"

"That's for you to find out." I stood up and started walking back to the mansion. John followed, thankfully.

"I'm really sorry for everything I said there, John. I shouldn't have made that comment on the General. It's just odd how you all look like people of color rather than what my people view you as."

"No... no, this is great! I'll start writin' more—"

"If you think you can include anything I said about slavery in your essays, drop it."

"Drop... what?"

"What? No, no, I mean, don't... don't entertain the notion, if you will."

John frowned. "Anyways, I b'lieve you. About the whole... your home, thing."

I turned to him sharply. "You do? Why?"

"Well, I suppose it makes sense; the—what do you call it?—quarter, and your clothes... they were certainly very..." John coughed, "revealing."

"Fashion's changed. For better or worse, I don't know."

"'S not exactly a sight one would forget, is it?"

Welcome to my world.

*Ummm... I tried to do my best at a Southern accent, since I'm pretty sure it comes when John speaks about something and he's really emotional about it. If John's slang/language is too modern, let me know and I'll try to fix it. I hope this is a way of explaining to John about what happened in the last chapter! I'll TRY to look at the other characters as well; I've been focusing on John too much... Is this chapter good?

Shoutouts to: SantosPhillipCarlo aaron_burrn AlexanderBaconton awkward_pigeon Crazy4AReason4Life  THANK you (and the rest of the world who I can't tag because my phone glitches) for the comments, votes, and reads! Updates are so slow and I'm so sorry about that... but y'all  helped greatly; life isn't going too well for me right now.

You are all lovely, beautiful, exquisite, wonderful people with passions and dreams dripping from your hands and mouths and bodies in the form of words, art, music, beauty, love, compassion... I can't express how amazing it feels to have some of that love directed towards me.
THANK you.