Suddenly Bodies Switch

Where am I?

Hamilton woke up in a strange looking room on a relaxing white sofa, a girl looking over her wearing what he could only describe as odd clothing, long, dark blue pants with a strap around the waist and a plain white undershirt with neatly cut sleeves that didn't dare reach past her upper arm with no overcoat worn over it.

"Lin!" the strange woman embraced him in a hug that nearly squeezed him to death. "Oh thank God you're awake. I was starting to worry about you."

Hamilton pulled himself out of her embrace and gave her a strange look, clearly confused. "I am terribly sorry, strange miss, but who is this 'Lin' of which you speak?"

"Lin, what are you talking about? It's me, Vanessa. Your wife."

"I am no 'Lin' and you are definitely not my dear Elizabeth."

Vanessa thought she realized what Hamilton was doing. "Lin, stop with the prank. Your Hamilton career is over, remember?"

Hamilton was even more confused. "I've not a clue what you mean. What is this 'Hamilton career' that you talk so fondly of? And what is a 'prank?'"

Vanessa was going to say something, but was interrupted by Leslie screaming at the top of his lungs, feeling himself and seeming to be making sure he was real.

"Wh-where am I? Why am I a black man? Am I not a slave? What is this place?" the odd questions come out of his mouth like a rapid fire machine gun.

That was when Phillipa came into the room. "What's going on? Why did I hear the terrified screams of Leslie?"

Vanessa went over to her and said semi-quietly, "I don't know, Lin and Leslie woke up, but I think they might have amnesia. Lin says he doesn't know who I am or who he is, or what Hamilton is for that matter, and Leslie knows nothing as well."

Phillipa went over to Hamilton and Leslie. "Guys, what are your names?" she asked, testing Vanessa's amnesia theory to see if she was right.

"My name is Alexander Hamilton, miss. Pleased to meet you." Hamilton replied, worrying the two women even more.

"And you?" Vanessa said to who she could only hope was Leslie.

"I would be Aaron Burr, good madam. Now, may somebody explain to me what is happening at this moment?"

Phillipa and Vanessa exchanged worried looks, Phillipa finally breaking the silence of the moment.

"Houston, we have a problem."

Hamilton questioned that statement, clearly not getting the reference.

"May I ask who this Houston is?"

~~~~

Lin woke up to an odd room with highly dated furniture on a bed that he felt would give him back problems if he were to sleep on it nightly. The entire room seemed to be made of wood, smelling of burnt out candles and ink. He sat up in the bed and saw a desk in front of him that was near a window with closed curtains blocking the sunlight from coming into the room. He recognized this room, though it looked much more clean and new.

Is this, no it couldn't be, but it cou- no, it isn't, is it?

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the door was opened by a familiar woman, though one he had only seen pictures of in museums and on Google Images.

"Alexander, dearest, are you alright? You look rather panicked." What Lin thought to be Eliza, the real Eliza, sat next to him on the highly uncomfortable bed.

"Eliza?" Lin asked, trying to speak as though he was from that era, even though he had no idea how to do so. "May you perhaps tell me what year it is? I just need to... uh confirm it....?"

"Well, it is 1790, dearest, but I would think you to know that. I must ask again, are you alright? You seem to be forgetful."

"I am fine, E-Eliza. Now, I need to go to the bathroom, if that is alright with you." Nervous sweat dripped down Lin's face as he wondered if bathroom was a word they used in the 18th century.

"Do you not mean the washroom, Alex?" Eliza asked, confused as all hell right about now.

"Um.. yes, dear, that is exactly what I mean. I will just head into there and.... uh.... do my business." he dashed out of the room, feeling fatigued once he got to the equally dated bathroom. When he looked into the mirror that dangled over the sink that Lin questioned the functionality of, he did not see himself, but did see the face of Alexander Hamilton. Instead of his newly cut dark brown hair, green hoodie, white shirt, and jeans that he saw himself in last night he saw Hamilton's long, auburn hair that was grey at the roots, his hazel over coat and white shirt, and his thin figure.

"Holy fuck!" Lin exclaimed, making sure Eliza didn't hear. "I'm fucking Alexander Hamilton! How the fuck did this happen!?"

He splashed water onto his face, making sure he wasn't dreaming. Unfortunately, he was not. He found that out after only a couple minutes. He came out of the bathroom soaking wet. When he looked to his right, he saw a small boy with short, curly hair run towards him, hugging his lower waist tightly.

"Papa, thank the heavens you are awake. Mother told me that you are unwell. What is ailing you, Papa?"

"Son, I am fine. Ca- er, may you please get your mother? I need to speak to her." Lin said, trying to calm who he could only assume to be Philip when he was about nine.

"Yes, Papa!" Philip said, seeming a little too eager to do the task. A few seconds later, Eliza was being dragged towards Lin by Philip, who was grabbing her hand tightly. Once he reached him, he just left without another word.

"So, Philip told me of your need to speak to me. What is it that you needed to tell me?"

"I must ask, what happened to make me suddenly appear in bed?" Lin asked, realizing he went a little 21st century on her and hoped she didn't notice.

"I've not a clue. One of your fellow politicians came by and carried you unconscious and he'd not a clue, either. I placed you in to bed for I thought you unwell, and I have a feeling you still might be. That is the reason you are going back in the bedroom and resting."

"But I am fine, Eliza."

"I think otherwise. You have been speaking in a strange mannerism since you have awoken and are not yourself today, so you are getting rest immediately." she said as she practically pushed Lin into the bed he was previously in and closing the door on her way out.

"Welp, let me go over some things. One, I have to talk in regal lingo 24/7 now. Two, these clothes are riding up my fucking ass. Three, I need to eat alot. Seriously, what does he eat, like, four grains of cereal and a piece of toast once a day?! And, four, this bed is hard as fuck! How does Hamilton not have back problems?"

Then, it dawned on him.

"How do you politics?!"

A/N

I hate the end of this chapter, but honestly don't know how to fix it. Guess that's a sign of improvement or something...???