Should I stop starting more stories? Heavens, yes. Will I? Hell, no. At least I have more plans than I usually do. So many plans that it is likely to escalate.

For The Crownless Queen, because quite frankly, you're awesome.

I am officially Hamiltrash. But honestly, can you blame me?

Reincarnation is NOT (!) common in this universe.

Word Count: 1,002

just you wait

Darcy Lewis had always known that she wasn't completely normal.

Even when she was a small kid, she felt like she was missing something, like there was supposed to be something else, something more.

Her mother was overwhelmed by Darcy's odd mannerisms and weird habits. It was understandable, really. Her mom was barely 20 years old and Darcy behaved like she couldn't believe she was alive. She was perplexed by the simplest things—she had stared for an hour when her mom had explained the telephone to her—had a weird fascination with certain bills—mainly ones and tens—and kept imagining siblings.

"Honey, I think I would know if you had siblings," Riley Lewis smiled at her small bundle of joy every time Darcy brought it up.

The toddler would cross her arms, raise her head high, stand straight, and insist that she did, in fact, have two sisters.

It wasn't until U.S. History class in Middle School that she got her first clue as to why she was the way she was.

The lessons about the American Revolution—and especially the people—sparked half-forgotten memories inside her.

The teacher had divided them into seven groups and assigned each group one of the key Founding Fathers according to some historian from the seventies—she had forgotten the details almost as soon as she had heard them.

Darcy had been in the group that had been assigned Alexander Hamilton. Most of them had been displeased to say the least.

"Who the eff is this guy?" Amitola Stevens complained to her best friend, Azizah al-Fasir. "Couldn't we have gotten someone else? Like Jefferson or Washington?"

"They weren't that nice people," Stefan Kingsley pointed out.

Azizah huffed. "Yes, but at least I know who they are!"

"Hamilton was the first Treasury Secretary, a general, and a lawyer," Darcy heard herself say. "He wrote the majority of the Federalist Papers. He was Washington's right hand man during the war, for god's sake!"

"How come I haven't heard of him then?" asked Chu Huynh.

"Because he's also very much a child with no impulse control and ruined his own legacy," Darcy replied without thinking.

After that project, she began questioning where these memories had come from.

Because Darcy had never looked into history—at all—but her knowledge had to come from somewhere. And she had spoken like she had known Hamilton, like he was a friend, like she knew every single one of his little quirks.

Plus, she had a strong desire to punch the man in the face.

With some further research, she was at least able to figure the last part out fairly quickly. The Reynolds Pamphlet was hard to miss when researching Alexander Hamilton, after all.

And once she had read the name Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, Darcy just knew. She knew her sister like she knew her own mind.

Rebirth didn't change that. If the universe wanted Darcy—Peggy?—to forget her sisters permanently, it seriously needed to step up its game.

(Which, for the record, hadn't meant to be an invitation, but she admitted that she was at fault here.)

Once she had realized that she was an actual historical person™—she totally had been known enough to count—she had started to take an interest in things she had thought boring before.

When she had been just Darcy and not Dargy—no, that sounded completely stupid. Pegcy, maybe?—she had wanted to be a nurse or a doctor of some kind.

But, quite frankly, once she had realized how little had actually changed since then—no matter what they claimed, everyone who was not a cishet white male was still considered less by a great many of them—she wanted to do something different. She wanted to rise up and finally get the stick out of society's ass.

And it would be glorious.

Darcy—it was honestly the least complicated way to refer to herself, because she had no risk of slipping up and having to explain the mess in her had. It wasn't like reincarnation was a very common phenomenon. Or a phenomenon at all.

Either way, Darcy began to study like Alexander had written in the subjects she chose to apply herself in.

Which maybe should have been less, but she would not worry until she was as bad as her—former—brother-in-law.

But her dedication proved to be worth it. She got into the college she wanted—and maybe her choice was influenced by nostalgia a bit, but it wasn't like that was a problem, honestly—and her (so far) fifteen step plan progressed as planned.

Yes, she was acting like Alexander and Angelica and probably a few more, but she did it with style.

As cliche as it may sound like, everything changed when she heard she had to get six actualy science credits for some reason. Darcy had absolutely no idea why she needed to do that—neither did anyone else she asked—but this was not worth fighting against (yet).

Once she checked that yes, this particular project would work, she applied for internship to Dr. Jane Foster.

The woman might've been called crazy by a good part of the intellectual elite—or whatever—but her work on Einstein-Rosen-bridges—or, more commonly: holy shit, wormholes!—looked more interesting than anything else she had looked at.

And, if she was completely honest, this Dr. Foster kind of sounded like Alexander—and maybe she did have a problem, but honestly, it wasn't like there was anyone she could talk to without the fear of being locked up somewhere.

She was curious to see what the end result of this would be.

What she had expected when she had started, Darcy had no idea.

She just knew that it wasn't this.

And honestly, she would laugh in the face of anyone who claimed that they expected the chain of events that—at least for her—started with this internship. No one could honestly say that. Not scientists, conspiracy theorists, historians, pagans, or literally anyone else. No one.

Except, maybe Tony Stark and Phil Coulson, because they, apparently, knew things no one else did.

Please tell me what you think!

~Marvelgeek42