"Christ! My head!" Cheyenne moaned, gripping her pulsing temple with one hand while feeling her way up the darkened stairs with the other. She should've just turned on the lights, but her headache was already splitting as it was. Besides, her balance was shaky, so she would be running her hand along the wall one way or another.

Finally, she reached the top and made a direct beeline for her room. Going out drinking probably wasn't the best idea, she decided whilst pulling on her pajamas. Then she plopped down on her unmade bed, only sparing her packed duffle bag a quick glance before she laid back.

Cheyenne had to get up at eleven to go to brunch with her parents. Then, immediately after, drive to the next town over and board the bus for vacation. It had taken forever to convince Mary to give her a week off to go to the Black Hills. They really needed her, but her boss recognized that a stressed out worker would be counterproductive. At least the woman had managed to make it work, as Cheyenne would not get another chance to do this for a long time.

Yeah. Maybe she should have thought through this 'going out drinking' decision a bit more.

But what's done was done, so she only let out another exhausted groan before shutting her eyes and drifting off, hoping the hangover tomorrow morning wouldn't be too bad.

…

The sound of objects being shuffled around was what woke her, followed quickly by birds chipping and bright light in her face. She grimaced, baring her teeth in a silent snarl, ripping her arm out from under the covers and bringing it to her head. There was a pounding sensation burying deep in her skull, causing Cheyenne to groan while sitting up.

Wait a minute, she realized, and finally opened her eyes to look down at the unfamiliar blanket covering her. She hadn't gotten underneath her bed covers last night, and this wasn't even her bed!

Then the sound of a zipper sounded in the otherwise silent room and she finally noticed the other person in there with her.

The other person who was going through her things!

"Hey!" she said without thought. "Put that down!"

The man whirled around immediately, dropping both her purse and flexible, silicone cup he'd been examining. He examined her closely, as if sizing her up, and she suddenly regretted being so aggressive. This man was huge, his thick muscles covered with tan skin that suggested a life lived under the sun. She found herself backing away, but as quickly as he'd turned on her, his gaze softened and he straightened up.

"I am sorry," he apologized, voice low toned and sincere. "I did not expect you to wake up."

She blinked twice, confusion flooding her mind as she looked around the room. She didn't recognize this place, nor had any explanation as to how she arrived here.

Unless…

"Well," she spat out. "Now that I am, would you mind telling me how the fuck I got here?"

The man was taken aback, brown eyes flashing with surprise. "I-"

"Did you kidnap me or something?! You sick fuck!"

"Keep your voice down!" he snapped back. "And stop cursing. I did no such thing."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You have been drinking," he continued, hands clasped in front of him as he tried to reason with her. "Perhaps you had too much-"

"I did not! I would never drink that much!"

His head lowered slightly and the thick, black hair and single braid framing his face moved with the action. "Miss, please calm down. I did no-"

"And what seems to be the problem here?" an elderly voice spoke, interrupting the other man.

Cheyenne raised an eyebrow as she examined the newcomer, a crippled old man hobbling into the room with the use of a cane. Old and fail as he looked, he didn't seem like the type to take people hostage. And, now that she took a second look, the first man didn't either, his sincere eyes and demeanor unbefitting of a criminal.

"She is scared of us, Achilles," the first man explained. "She thinks we took her."

"Hmm. Quite the contrary, actually," Achilles assured her. "Connor here found you lying by the river, along with those...bags of yours."

He gestured over to her left with his cane, and she turned to see her duffle lying on the floor by the bed. It was a little dirty, but otherwise looked untouched.

"Where are you from, child?" Achilles asked.

"I'm from Iowa."

Connor raised a curious brow. "Iowa? Where is that?"

Cheyenne was a little taken aback. "The United States."

"And where is that?"

Now she was absolutely baffled. "How have you not heard of those names before? We're in the U.S, right?"

Granted, Iowa wasn't really famous. But to never have heard of the entire U.S seemed unlikely.

"I do not know of this 'U.S' you speak of," Achilles informed her. "We are in my manor, with the closest colony being Boston."

"What!? That's impossible! How can I be that far from Iowa?!" Because even if she left her home in a drunken stupor, she couldn't have come this far on her own. Someone else would've had to take her.

"Where is Iowa?" Connor asked again. "Is it another country?"

"No. It's in the United States. In America."

Both Achilles and Connor balked at her words.

"We are in the American colonies," Connor said. "But this 'Iowa' is not one of them."

She opened her mouth to respond, but just as quickly closed it and shook her head. "Never mind that. You said you found me outside, right?" They both nodded. "Well, thank you for not leaving me out there.

Another nod from Connor. "You are welcome."

"I need to get home, though. I'm sure my parents are worried sick. Can I have my purse back?"

After Connor retrieved it, she thanked him while pulling out her phone. Her phone wasn't broken, thankfully, but she noticed there wasn't any service.

"Great," she muttered and put the device away. Too far out in the middle of nowhere to get service, probably. "Can I use your phone? Mine isn't working."

She only received another confused look from both of them. Connor especially so. "Phone?"

Cheyenne let out a low snort.

"What?!" Connor demanded.

"How do you not know what a phone is? It's 2019."

If the two men didn't think she was crazy before, they certainly did now.

"Are you quite alright, madam?" Achilles asked. "Hit your head a time or two, perhaps?"

"Why are you asking that?"

"It is not 2019," Connor explained. "It is May 15th, 1776."

She let out another snort. "Okay you two. That's funny, but let's be serious now."

Connor's eyes narrowed. "We are serious."

"No you aren't. That's crazy. 1776 happened a long time ago."

"No. It is 1776."

"Are you alright, child?" Achilles asked again, just when it looked like Connor was going to add something else. "You seem very confused."

"Okay. Last chance. Drop the act, now."

They didn't. Achilles continued with his penetrating stare while Connor straightened up at her tone.

"How do we know you are not crazy?" Connor accused, shooting her a suspicious stare.

"I am not!" she hissed, voice full of venom as she retrieved her phone from her bag and turned it back on. "Look!"

She showed Connor the illuminated screen, practically shoving it in his face until he took the device to study it further. His brows scrunched together at first, but soon relaxed as surprise colored his features.

"May 25th, 2019,'" he read. Achilles tapped his cane and cleared his throat, so Connor handed the elder man the device.

"I told you," she muttered while Achilles studied the phone, a similar look of surprise on his face.

No hostility remained on Connor's face; all of it had been replaced with deep confusion. "But how are you here?"

"I don't know," she told him. "I fell asleep in my own bed, but woke up here."

Cheyenne's head lowered while she processed the situation. In the past, well over two hundred years before she would be born. It threw her frazzled mind for a loop and left her struggling to comprehend how this even happened.

"Perhaps this discussion would be best continued downstairs," Achilles suggested at last. "Are you hungry, child?"

She turned towards him when he spoke, his compassionate smile calming her enough to nod. With that, Achilles led her out of the room while she followed close behind. Connor tagged along quietly, but nudged her shoulder once they reached the stairs.

"What was that...thing from before?"

"What thing?"

"The soft cup."

Cheyenne blushed a little. "I'm not sure if I should tell you."

"Why?" Connor asked, intrigued but a bit suspicious due to her hesitance.

"Because it's embarrassing."

They were walking down the stairs, but Connor suddenly stepped in front and stopped her in her tracks. "Tell me now!" he demanded.

"Why?" she said. "Come now. There's no way that cup is dangerous."

"I will not take chances with a stranger. Especially if you will be staying-"

"I use it for my period," she deadpanned.

Connor's face lost it's suspicious look at that, his tan skin flushing a little while she heard the taping of Achilles cane stop. He huffed and continued walking a moment later, but Connor just turned his back on her and hurriedly stomped off to another part of the house. Most likely to wash his hands, if the semi-disturbed look on his face was anything to go by. She, on the other hand, sighed before continuing to follow Achilles to the kitchen.