The world was so much different than when Burr last saw it. There was so much... everything. New, glowy technology, huge, towering buildings, and more people than he could count.

And America... Oh, America! It was truly beautiful. So big... 50 states! And millions and millions of people. All of them happily living in the bustling country. Burr couldn't help but feel pride at seeing what he helped to create. If that bastard Hamilton could see him now.

He stopped himself. He couldn't reminisce and admire now; He had a new job to do. He needed a vessel. To... possess somebody.

It felt foreign on his tongue. It was weird. Really weird. He wasn't human anymore. Everything was different. The whole world, America, him...

No. No! This is right. He's something beautiful now, not something weird. He was great and powerful. And he needed someone to project his power unto the world.

But with everything different, it was hard to tell where he was. The buildings were tall, the people numerous, the streets alive with moving machines. Carriages?

Stay on task, dammit! He thought to himself.

Burr looked down on himself. Wasn't much to look at anymore. Just a cloud of red smoke. Clearly, he couldn't just go out and discover where he was. He needed a vessel. And fast.

Suddenly, a person stumbled into the wide alley he was in. He was... he was black. And he looked happy. He looked free. The man had white ropey-things in his ears and a huge smile on his face. That wasn't right. He was supposed to be a slave.

Angry, Burr surged forward, embedding himself in that thing. Instantly, he was struck with new knowledge. History after his death, where he was, who his vessel was, and so, so much more.

He opened his eyes, feeling renewed. He had a body again. It would be his. Screw this kid, Leslie or something stupid like that. This is his body now.

Thoughts from his vessel surged forward, but he quickly quieted them. But one he received. One he didn't like:

He was next to Broadway. In New York . And that Leslie kid was on his way to help a friend, Lin, with a musical. A musical about that bastard .

Burr growled loudly, a trash can behind him exploding. If he had anything to say about it, that motherfucking show would never be finished.

But he had a job to do. He needed to damn as many souls to Hell as he could. He smiled. He knew just where to start. Burr walked towards the doors.

"Leslie!" Lin shouted from the stage. He was clearly happy to see this face.

"Lin!" Burr responded, trying to sound happy. "So good to see you!" He embraced the man.

"Thank God you're here!" Lin was gripping his shoulders tightly. "I'm stuck in a rut and I need all the help I can get!"

"Of course, Lin. Anything I can do." He smirked as the man rushed away.

"Right, now, I'm stuck on 'What'd I Miss', and it's hard to figure out what to do with the rest of the act." He started rummaging through the papers scattered everywhere.

Burr bent down and picked up one of the papers. The song was titled 'Wait For It'. And it was good . He grimaced. Why did Hamilton get everything he wanted in life?

"- and the notes aren't matching up correctly. It's really stressing me out!" He didn't realize Lin was speaking until he looked at him with huge puppy eyes.

"Well…" He tried.

"Well what?!" The man shouted.

"Well, I can't help you like that." He said. Lin looked at him incredulously. "I can help you in other ways though." He let his eyes go blood red.

"AH!" The man fell on his back, screaming. "Leslie?!"

"Not right now." He smiled devilishly. "You can call me…" He thought for a moment.

This man idolized Hamilton. Imagine what he would do if he found out the he, Aaron Burr, had become a demon.

"...Guy." He blurted out.

"O-okay, Guy…" Lin said cautiously. "What do you want? What did you do to Leslie?!"

"Don't worry about him. He's fine. But you, you are going to get much better." He pointed to the shivering man.

Lin slowly nodded. "I can make you a deal. Ten years, in exchange for spectacular fame. All I need is your soul."

"My-my soul?"

"You're soul. Amazing artistic achievements, profound fame, just for a little, speck of nothing." He lied. Might be better to squeeze a few details out.

"Um…" Lin wheezed.

Burr held his hands up. "Take your time. I'll be patient." He began to walk towards the exit before he heard a squeak.

"Wait." He turned to find a shaky Lin standing on the stage. "Could you really help me with that?"

"That and more."

Lin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Guy gestured him to go on. "Ok."

Guy smiled. "Alrightly. But we have to seal the deal with a kiss." He crooked his finger, beckoning Lin toward him.

Reluctantly, the man approached him. He slowly reached his arm toward the demon. Guy grabbed him, rushing into the kiss.

When they separated, Lin half smiled nervously.

"See you in ten years." Guy smiled as he turned to leave. He laughed. This was going to be easier than he thought.

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" The girl squealed. Guy looked down at her, scrambling to pick up her books. Damn. She looked so pathetic.

"No worries!" He said, getting down to help her with her books. He took pity on her. So what? He was busy.

"No! Really! It's my fault! I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

"Really," He interrupted. "It's fine." Not really. He just wanted to get back to work. And he really needed a new book.

But the pitiful girl seemed to want something else. "I'm Becky." She said, clearly smitten.

His legacy would be nothing if he didn't keep up his manners. "I'm Guy." He shook her hand.

The girl- Becky smiled. "Oh! You like Super Duper Hot Vampires too?" He sighed. This was going to be a long ride. But after a few years, his initial disgust faded the more time Becky insisted they spend together. She was annoying as hell, but she was great for business.

He's made deals with so many of her friends. All those geeks, those nerds, those loser, they were all desperate enough that they were going to Hell. Because of him. He was great at his job.

And he was able to make everything better: his deals were supposed to be ten years, but he was able to, shorten that time.

He was able to get more deals, and much more souls. Guy was truly innovating Hell. He should be king. Not Crowley.

Not that he wasn't good at his other job. As a cover, he worked as a party planner. And he was great at it. He made so much human currency, he had nothing to do with it, not needing to eat and all.

And little Becky. She was very endearing, thinking he was a gay Wiccan. And she believed it, too. He showed her some of his magic, and she was spellbound. She was out of town right now, just after asking for a love potion.

All in all, afterlife was pretty good for him.

That is, until he met a Winchester.

Becky came back from Vegas, excited and married. Married to Sam Winchester. He was busy enough, now he had to deal with a fucking Winchester.

"It's an honour to meet you, Sam." Guy faked. He reluctantly shook the man's hand. He didn't want to be in this situation.

"Thanks. You too."

"Guy's a really good friend. We met in the erotic horror section in the Novel Hovel."

"God, Becky, come on." He said, embarrassed. He just so happened to like erotic novels. Sue him. He was a lawyer. "TMI." He likes the slang today's generation uses. It's interesting and kind of fun.

The rest of the conversation went quickly, and he tried to get out of there as fast as he could. He was walking away as casually as he could.

"One more thing." Becky grabbed his jacket. "Did you get my message?"

"Of course. I thought you'd never ask. Now give me a hug." Guy smiled, and stealthily handed her the potion. She smiled, thanked him, and went back to her Winchester. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

In hindsight, it was stupid to tell Becky. He knew she was a huge fan of that Supernatural series, but he didn't think she would really use that against him. He had hoped she would've taken the deal. She should've, if she was that obsessed with Sam Winchester. But, no.

"Blueberry vodka." The skinny man said as he approached. "The answer to all of life's problems."

Becky was rambling something, but it wasn't paid any mind. He stared at Dean Winchester. He was supposed to be in Hell.

"Dean Winchester." Guy smiled. "This is really thrilling. It's been so long, hasn't it?"

Dean stopped. "What?"

"Don't you remember me? We were besties back in Hell. I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Rapunzel?"

Dean stopped, shock written all over his face. Guy smirked devilishly.

"Dean?" Sam asked. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Sammy." His hands clenched into hard fists. "Just seeing an old friend."

"What?" Skinny asked.

"Garth," Sam whispered, pulling them both back a few steps. Dean stepped forward.

"So, Dean," Guy started. "Long time no see. Hey, how did you break out? I've never heard of anyone doing that."

"Didn't you hear? I thought it was all over the news." Dean was circling the Devil's trap. "An angel saved me."

Guy shrugged. "I've been busy."

"I'm not surprised that the Vice President's been busy." Gasps of shock came from behind Dean.

"What did you call me?" Guy's words were heavy with threat.

"You told me who you were in life. I remembered, just in case our paths ever crossed again. And thank God that they did." He pulled out the demon's knife. "Let's assassinate the President."

"You said 'vice president'." Garth pointed out.

"Shut up." Dean snarled.

"Dean," Guy started, nervous. "You don't want to do this."

"I do. After everything you did to me, I do. Might as well take revenge for that Hamilton guy, too."

"DON'T!" Burr screamed. "Don't you say that bastard's name!"

"And don't do anything." A dark voice said. Crowley appeared from behind Sam. "He's mine to handle."

"No way. After what he did to me, it's me that should kill him." Dean stood tall against the King of Hell.

"But he's disobeyed." Crowley stated calmly. "Disobeyed my orders, disobeyed the sanctity of Hell's contracts, disobey-"

"I was innovating. Improving our soul count and the crossroads process!"

"That doesn't matter!" Crowley shouted. "If the person does before the ten years are up, the contract is void. Their souls go to Heaven!"

Burr shrunk back. Shit.

"And to make sure that no one else in my kingdom disobeys like you did, you're coming with me."

"Afraid not there, Crowley." Dean stepped in. "This asshat is mine."

"Sorry," Crowley smirked. "King trumps Winchester." He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, Burr was somewhere else.

Hell. He was in Hell. He was on the rack in Hell. He was about to be tortured on the rack in Hell. In front of everyone.

"My people," Crowley began. "Take this as an example for when you go against my words." He looked down to a frightened Burr. "Die, you bastard."

An angel blade was thrust through his solar plexus, and for the second time, everything went black.