Chapter Summary: Joseph never even learnt French, so why could he suddenly speak it?

I apologise in advance for the French. I do not speak French, so I had to rely on Google Translate, which we all know is sketchy at the best of times. If any of you happen to speak French, let me know how I can improve on the translations, because obviously there is going to be a lot of French in this fic with Lafayette.

I would like to thank the two Guests who commented on my story. I really appreciate it! Thank you so much.

The light from the window stretched over Joseph's bedroom, burning into his eyelids and forcing him awake. The warm morning brightened the boy's spirits, he always loved lazy Sunday mornings. He stretched and yawned, before climbing out of his bed and setting out to start his day.

Joseph lived in South Carolina with his mother and sister, as it had been for almost eleven years. His father walked out on them, leaving his mother scrambling to raise two rambunctious children on her own. Joseph and his sister, Marie, helped out where they could, knowing the struggles their mother went through. Joseph loved his mother; her strength shining through even when the family struggled to get by. Marie came in a close second, at the age of eight she had taken the job of looking after her younger brother. Joseph owed his life to both women.

He skidded into the kitchen, racing around to make breakfast as fast as he could. His mother, Monica, placed her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "Really, Joseph? What have I told you about running in the house? You're sixteen, for goodness sakes." Then she smiled and ruffled his hair, having difficulty as he towered over her at almost a full head taller. "What's got you awake so early?"

He swatted her hand away, stuffing the toast into his mouth. "Je ne sais pas, aujourd'hui semble être une bonne journée, c'est tout." 1.

Monica turned around slowly, looking at her son with shock and concern. "Joseph, did you just speak French?"

Joseph lifted his head, confused. "Non." Then he widened his eyes and gasped, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. He stared back at his mother, whole body shaking. "Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" He closed his mouth tightly, eyebrows furrowed, and body hunched over. "Maman, qu'est-ce qui se passe?" He looked close to tears, frustrated and angry that he couldn't speak in English. "Pourquoi est-ce que je parle français? Je ne connais même pas le français." 2.

"Baby, calm down." His mother placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, stopping him as he started speaking rapid French, obviously worked up. "What I think has happened is you're a reincarnate and your past self could speak French. Now just take deep breaths, okay sweetie?" She held his hand as he took deep breaths in and out, calming himself. "Good, now I want you to focus really hard on speaking English, okay?"

He nodded, still taking in deep breaths. Closing his eyes, he set to concentrating hard on English, not French. "Mum," he tested, his body relaxing as he took in a sigh of relief. "Mum, what was that? Why did that happen?"

Monica smiled at him. "Have I ever told you that my mother was a reincarnate?" He shook his head, eyes narrowed. "Well, she was. In her past life she was from Spain. She was actually quite late in her reliving, I remember I was ten when she first got her memories back. She woke up screaming, only speaking in Spanish."

"So," Joseph licked his lips, nervous. "You think I'm a reincarnate?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but that isn't a bad thing Joseph, no matter what people may say. There's always a reason for reincarnates, whether the reason is for themselves or for the world. It's a natural thing, you don't need to be afraid of being one."

"I know," he replied hastily. "It's just," he breathed in and out, determined to feel in control again. "why can't I remember anything?"

His mother hummed, sitting next to him by the table. "Sometimes reliving can be a slow process. I know people who relive all of their old life in a second, for some it may take hours, weeks." She took his hands into her own. "But I'll be with you every step of the way, sweetie."

He nodded his head, swallowing down his nervousness with a smile. "Thanks, mum."

OoOoOoO

Joseph spent most of his time in front of his computer, researching reincarnates and how he could possibly speed up his reliving process. It had been three weeks since his first taste at his old life, and he had received no more hints as to who he actually was.

He hadn't slept in who knows how long, too busy looking up every article he could on reincarnation, reading up on testimonies, absorbing the most information he could. Thankfully, summer holidays had just started, so he didn't have to worry about school.

One thing he did have to worry about, however…

"Joseph Marcus Laurettes! You better not be on that computer again!"

His sister.

Marie Laurettes was short, incredibly short. Joseph loved to tease her about it, the fact he stood a full foot taller than her, and also three years younger. It had been a joke since he had hit his growth spurt at thirteen. However, as short as Marie was, her temper might have been even shorter.

"Joseph Laurettes." She seethed, at his door in a moment. "You have not slept in days, you have not showered in days (which is disgusting) and I don't even think you've eaten at all today!" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know you want to get to the bottom of this reincarnation stuff, but it does not come at the cost of your sanity and health." She reached over and grabbed his computer from the desk, carrying it under her arms back to her room.

"Hey, wait!" He called after her, trying to snatch it from her grasp. When she sprinted out of her room, it took him a full second to comprehend what had happened. "Marie, wait!"

By the time he made it to her bedroom, she had already hidden the laptop. There, she sat on her bed, a smug look on her face as she turned to look at him. "Try staying up on that damned computer all night now."

He knew she meant well, of course he knew that. They were siblings and she only wanted to see him healthy and happy, but it didn't make it hurt any less. He had become obsessed with trying to find out who he was before becoming Joseph Laurettes, find out why he could speak French fluently when he had never even met someone who could. The fact that his only means of researching the topic had been taken away from him left him broken inside. What if he never found out? What if he never remembered? This empty feeling, would he never escape it?

Before he knew it, he had collapsed onto the ground, breathing in huge breaths of air as if it would be the last time he would ever breathe again. In the corners of his mind that were still rational, he could feel his sister sit down beside him, trying to shake him out of his daze. Joseph fell deeper and deeper into the depths of his mind.

Blood, blood, blood. All around him was blood.

Soldiers on stretchers were gasping for their final breaths, red painting their clothing and hands. Many others had retreated to their tents, exhausted after the long battle. Even more lay in the infirmary, a white sheet draped solemnly over their form. Lafayette walked with General Washington, sighing at the devastation clear on the soldiers' faces.

"Sir, I do not know what more we could do, the soldiers are facing hopelessness." He told the general, an obvious French accent covering his words. "We're running out of supplies and food, not to mention also soldiers."

The general turned to the young man, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What if we didn't have to rely only on congress for supplies."

"Sir?" Lafayette asked, his eyes wide with confusion. "Where else would we get supplies? No one is going to support a distressed and defeated revolutionary army."

"What about France?"

Lafayette looked thoughtful, catching onto the general's idea. "If we could play to their fears, they might consider."

Washington placed a hand upon Lafayette's shoulder. "I place you in charge of that, Lafayette. Are you ready to go back to France?"

And then the memories came snowballing into his mind, covering him like an avalanche. He could hardly breathe from the pressure against his head. Almost 77 years of new (old?) memories flooded into his head in a second. And it hurt like hell.

Two revolutionary wars.

Two wars.

Wars.

Bloodshed.

His wife, his children.

Cold, cold, cold…

"Joseph, can you hear me? I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear, I'm so sorry. I was only trying to help you, Joseph, snap out of it! Come on, come on. Mum! Mum! It's Joseph! He's not okay!"

Joseph? Who was Joseph? Joseph was part of his name, sure, but most people knew him as Lafayette. Hardly anyone called him Joseph, hardly anyone even knew part of his name was Joseph.

Joseph? Did he know a Joseph? Wait,

But his name was Joseph. And Lafayette. Or was it only Joseph?

"Joseph, honey, it's your mum. Talk to me baby, what's going on in that head of yours?"

Mum? His maman was dead. Why wasn't she speaking French? He could feel his head pounding, as if someone was banging on the door, wanting to be let free.

"Come on, breath with me, that's it. Come on sweetie, just calm down."

Maman? Mama, Mum.

Lafayette (No, Joseph) was brought back to reality, collapsing into his mother's arms. "Maman, c'était si effrayant, c'était horrible, il y avait tellement…" 3.

"Sweetie, you're talking in French again." He was? His head blurred together as he struggled to pull up the English words. "Shh, shh. It's okay, don't panic. Just focus."

He breathed deeply in and then out, clearing his head and focusing hard on the English translation. "It was so scary, it was horrible, there was so much violence and blood and…"

"Shh, shh, you're alright, you're alright now." Her voice calmed him even more, bringing him out of his memories and into the present. "Sweetie, I need you to tell me your name, where you are right now and the year. Can you do that for me?"

Lay-Joseph scrunched his face together. "Why?" Thinking was too hard for him at the moment, his head exploding with new information.

"Sweetie, you're dividing at the moment. It happens after you relive. I need you to ground yourself in the present."

"Okay," his mouth went dry as he struggled to bring forth the information. "My, my name is Lay- no, it's Joseph, right?"

"That's right, sweetie. Your name is Joseph. Where are we?"

"We're in France?" He shook his violently, gasping for breath. "No, we're in our house, in South Carolina, America."

"You're doing so well. What year is it?"

"2015." He answered this one correctly, although his mind still supplied him with the answer 1785.

"Good." His mother gave a sigh of relief. "Look at me sweetie." Joseph only just realised that his eyes had been closed the whole time his mother had been talking to him. Seeing her face brought him into reality even more, allowing him to sort through the two memories and focus on the newest ones. "Are you feeling better now?" She asked, her voice sweet and caring, like he knew her to be.

He smiled. "Yeah, I'm feeling better." Joseph was feeling better than he ever had in his second lifetime.

Translations:

1. I do not know, today seems like a good day, that's all

2. No… What is happening?... Mum, what's going on?... Why am I speaking French? I don't even know French!

3. Mum, it was so scary, it was horrible, there was so much…

Alright, so, I think I finally have a plot worked out. You shall see parts of it coming into play in the next chapter, which will feature Hercules and Peggy Schuyler.

You see, I don't want this story to just be 'Oh look, we're all reincarnated at the same time, let's party' kind of story. I want there to be actual plot. So, there will be adventure, and action and all that lovely stuff to come in later chapters.

I think I've finally decided on ships as well. For Alexander, no relationship at all. However, I will have references to both Laurens x Hamilton and Eliza x Hamilton.

Thanks for staying this long, 20 extra points.