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She is sixteen when the memories come rushing in. They threaten to overtake her, to drown her under the sheer strength and number of them, and she locks herself in her room for days, refusing meals or indeed any human contact as she struggles to make sense of it all. She is worrying her parents, she knows (not her parents from before , but her parents all the same), but she can’t bring herself to do anything different. This is not something her family can help her with.
When she emerges three days later, her parents pepper her with questions. They’d had some idea of what was going on; almost everyone remembers who they used to be, who they are a reincarnation of, at some point in their lives. She is no different from anybody else in that respect. And so her parents want to help her, want to know who she was and what happened to her, want to talk her through everything, tell her how to deal.
She is tempted to tell them everything. But she decides against it. She loves both of them dearly, but both of them last lived normal, innocuous lives in the mid-twentieth century. How is she supposed to tell them about everything she’s done, everything she’s lived through? Perhaps the feeling is irrational, but she can’t help it. She fields their questions with a grace she only just remembered she possesses, telling them nothing more than the fact that she was a woman who lived during colonial times. They don’t seem satisfied with that, but they leave her alone after extracting promises for her to come to them if she needs help.
She won’t need help. She’ll make sure of that.
It is difficult, though. She is an only child this time around. Even before she recalled everything, she knew she was missing something, and now that she remembers them, she feels the loss of her sisters keenly. She misses Angelica’s wit, Peggy’s smile, the camaraderie and love that always existed between them. Even when she felt like she had nothing else, she had them. And now she doesn’t.
She hopes they are alive right now. Hopes they are happy. Even if she never sees them again, that will have to be enough.
And then… well, her sisters are not the only ones she misses. She discovers soon enough that even though more than fifty years have passed since she last saw him alive, Alexander still holds her heart in his hands. His absence is a physical ache within her, only dulled by the passage of time, not removed. She loved him in her first life and she loves him now, despite everything. Not to say that she’s not incredibly angry with him, of course. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if she ever sees him again. But she’s had a lot of time to reconcile herself with his mistakes. Her husband was always a deeply flawed man, and she understands that now better than she ever did.
And she accepts it.
Of course, that doesn’t do her much good. There is no evidence that Alexander is even alive during this time period, and even if he was, there would be no guarantee that they would be able to pursue any kind of relationship. She constantly checks the list of past historical figures that have gotten themselves verified, but that is about all she can do.
Alexander’s name never shows up.
So she lives as best she can, and she would be lying if she said it wasn’t a good life. She has people who love her, no less important to her for the fact that they didn’t know her before. She makes good grades in school (especially in American history), gets into a good college. She breaks down into tears the day she registers to vote for the first time, and the woman helping her, a former suffragette, is very understanding.
She majors in PoliSci, and likes it more than she expected. She has the full college experience, something she never had the chance to do before, and she enjoys every moment. After school, she lands herself an internship with a local politician, and starts making her way up in the world.
She never stops looking for her loved ones, for Angelica, for Peggy, for Alexander , but she doesn’t allow her life to revolve around them either. They wouldn’t want that, and neither does she. She cherishes all of her old memories, but she doesn’t let that stop her from forming new ones as well.
Years pass, and Liz Scott, formerly Elizabeth Schuyler, makes the best of them.
Then, she meets John.
The two of them hit it off immediately, John laughing at her wit and Eliza falling for his kindness and brashness and the way freckles are scattered across his face like stars.
When he asks her out for coffee, she does not say no.
One coffee date turns into two, then three, then four. And then they branch out, going to movies and restaurants and long walks together. Then that turns into nights in at one of their places. And that… leads to other things.
Perhaps she should feel like she is betraying Alexander, but she doesn’t. She still loves him as much as she used to, but now it seems that her heart has made room for John as well. She thinks Alexander would understand, will understand if she ever sees him again.
(She is almost certain he was poly, after all. There were no terms for that sort of thing back in those days, no terms other than those such as abominable and wrong , but now that she knows the word, it fits Alexander to a tee.
It explains a lot.)
She doesn’t often think of Alexander when she is with John. They are very different, and besides, it would be unfair to both of them to compare them. But sometimes, she is struck with how similar they can be; both are capable of great kindness, both are brave to a fault, and both are very opinionated on what they feel is right. And there is a certain melancholia that sometimes hangs around John like a raincloud, a cloud that surrounded her husband far too often. This is how she knows that John, too, has loved and lost.
(One day, they are cuddling on the couch, and she says to him, “I didn’t give you permission to make me fall in love with you, but it’s happened anyway.”
She doesn’t say it with anything other than the utmost affection, but he stares at her as if he’s seen a ghost. For the life of her, she can’t figure out why.
At least, not yet.)
It is a long time before they even dare to approach the subject of past lives. By this point, she has figured out that he was once in love with someone else, was in love very deeply and still is. This is something they have in common, and she thinks that John can tell that about her as well. So they have an unspoken agreement not to ask, to leave the past in the past.
But the topic is brought up eventually, a good two years into their relationship. Not intentionally, but John makes a reference that piques her curiosity, and she can’t help but ask.
“You were a soldier during the Revolutionary War?” she asks, and he stiffens, looking at her. He searches her face for something and seems to find it, relaxing again.
“Yeah, actually,” he says, flopping down on the couch next to her. “Let me tell you, the General was so done with all of us, like, twenty-four seven. Did not envy him.”
And that, that makes her even more curious. From the way he says it, it sounds as if he was personally acquainted with the man, and that is not something every revolutionary soldier can claim. Suddenly, possibilities open up before her; if he knew Washington, then he may have known Alexander. He likely heard of him, at least. “Running a war was a hard job,” she agrees. “Were you there for the whole war?”
His eyes darken, and she almost regrets asking. “Most of it,” he agrees. “I got myself killed in South Carolina, after Yorktown. Didn’t know the war was over yet.” He laughs, shaking his head. “You have no idea how relieved I was when I remembered and realized that we won after all.”
There is more he isn’t saying, but she feels like she’s pushed enough for one day. “I’m sorry,” she says, and he shrugs.
“I’m over it,” he replies, even though it’s obvious to her that he’s not, not really. “Besides, it could’ve been worse. I looked it up, and it turns out my friends survived, so they got to enjoy things, at least.” He grins at her. “I have a wikipedia article, y’know. John Laurens, that’s me.” He sighs and leans back into the cushions. “It’s kind of short, though. Think I should add some things?”
Oh.
Oh.
She can’t help but freeze. How else is she supposed to react? John Laurens is a name she knows well, even though she never met the man. She listened to Alexander go on and on about the man he told her was his dearest friend, and she read the letter that informed him of his demise. She dealt with the aftermath, dealt with as much of his grief that he would allow her to see.
Some people think that Alexander Hamilton was in love with John Laurens, based on the content of their letters to one another. As Alexander’s wife, she is inclined to agree.
“Liz?”
That’s John’s voice, and she realizes that she has been silent for too long.
“Oh my god,” she says, and a giggle escapes her, a giggle that turns into gale-force laughter, because this? This is one hell of a coincidence. “Oh my god,” she repeats.
John is staring at her with concern. “Liz, what is it?” he asks, eyes wide. She shakes her head.
“It’s just,” she manages, “I’ve got a wikipedia article too.” She reaches out to shake his hand, and the bewildered look on his face makes her break down into laughter again. “Elizabeth Schuyler,” she says. “Elizabeth Hamilton, for most of my life, actually. Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Laurens.”
He gets it. She can see it in his eyes. “Holy shit,” he whispers.
She nods. “Yup,” she agrees. “We should have figured this out a lot sooner.”
“I-” He breaks off, swallowing hard. “Uh, yeah. Wow. this is… wow.”
She gives him a sunny smile. “I’d figured out that you were still in love with someone else,” she tells his frankly. “I guess you figured that out about me too. This makes things a lot simpler, considering we’re both in love with the same person.”
He blinks. “You’re not… mad?”
“Why would I be?”
“I literally had an affair with your husband, Liz.”
She nods. “Well, yes, but if we start going into that, then we also have to consider that we are both kind of cheating on him right now. With each other. So, I think it works out fine, doesn’t it?” At least, it does in her book. She hopes John feels the same way. She doesn’t want this to come between them. The revelation about his identity doesn’t change her feelings for him in the slightest; if anything, it gives her a sense of relief.
She’d always wondered what would happen to their relationship if Alexander walked back into her life. She didn’t know that she would have the strength to choose between them. But now, she thinks that question is answered.
She tells him this, and a slow, bright smile spreads across his face. “Yeah,” he agrees, “I guess it is.”
Now, there are no more secrets between them, and it is a relief. They can be themselves around each other, completely themselves, past and present.
And if they ever find Alexander, they’ll be able to be themselves with him too.
A couple more years finds them still living together, no Alexander in sight. With each other, they don’t have to pretend they don’t miss him, but that doesn’t take away the pain of his absence.
They have each other, though, and for now that is… perhaps not enough, but they make do. They love each other, and that is what counts.
But she is beginning to lose hope, beginning to suspect that they never will find their missing half. That Alexander is lost to them. That their memories are the only things they will ever have of him.
She doesn’t voice these thoughts, but even so, she knows John is starting to feel the same way.
And then, the news comes in, news that makes them look at each other with hope and disbelief. News that they almost don’t believe, not at first, that they don’t dare to believe is true until it has been confirmed by multiple sources.
George Washington is running for president.
George Washington is alive, has been confirmed as being who he claims to be, and is running an an independent in the election. She looks up pictures just to be sure, and it is unmistakably him. He looks different to be sure, but that bearing, that air of command, that steely, determined look in his eyes, those are things that cannot be imitated.
She looks at John, and John looks at her. They don’t speak aloud, but they both know that they are on the same wavelength.
If Alexander is out there, that’s where he’ll be.