I own nothing except my ideas. A 1776 fanfic. Enjoy!

A man trudged silent in the snow head held low to shield his face from the wind. His collar ajusted to tune out the frozen rain. Snow matted his hair. He was of average build with brown hair swept back and dark black brown eyes. He glanced arround fearfully and lowered his head again. He rode at a slow pace. His horse was not the most beautiful beast. The man was only one, and not an incredably heigine constant man at that. Yet it only takes one man to change the world. Sam Adams was his name. Sam was on his way to Congresses session. A group of loud obnoxious men that had nothing in common all in the same room argueing. He was preocupied in Massachusets with a recent rumble. Somthing about taxes again. Now that it was over he would return to Congress. Poor Hancock was likely to explode if Hall or himself wasn't there. Then again if he didn't come... Poor Hancock. He would shurely get a good yelling from cousin John for being late. He sighed and looked over his shoulder a second too late. A gunshot rang out and Sam fell, his arms waving dramaticaly searching for somthing to hold onto. He hit the ground with a thud, the snow red underneath his limp body. Soon the snow swallowed up him along with the horse leaving nothing but white snow, laughing in the wind.



John ranted pacing arround the empty congress hall. Franklin sat comfortably on a chair with his foot suspended between the chair and a foot rest. Franklin was an old man, balding with long gray hair and gray brown eyes. Franklin was a sincere man and thought rationaly. Mr. Adams on the other hand... Sam better get there fast.

"He'll be here John."


John Housoun of Georiga rode his horse arround the outskirts of town, despite the health issues it may cost him. A man needs a dailey walk to keep himself fit. He rode on a long, narrow, stone and tar road with nothing but snow on the sides. After a good twenty minnutes walking he decided to turn back but stoped. A silowette of a horse was barely visible in the snow.


Hall moved closer. The wind and snow tearing feircely at his coat and breaches.

"G-Good Sir?" Stumbled Housoun, nervously.

The snow opened to reveal the rider was not on the horse. John dismounted and ran over and looked over the steed.

I know that horse.

He stoped and looked to the ground, Sinking to his knee's.

Red as... blood.

He began to dig. The snow swirled arround him in a twisted dance. It mocked him as he franticaly dug faster, the snow getting deeper as he dug. He uncovered the prone body of a man.

I know that face.

The pulse beat was faint. He loaded the unconcious Sam onto Sam's horse and made like frank to town. The snow danced behind the horses in it's dance of pure glory, laughing madly in the wind.


Congress was in session,

but thats all that Hancock said.

He remained still silent as two men argued. He didn't break up the fights. He didn't respond to Rutleges annoying southern charm. He didn't ask for the role to be called. The Congress didn't seem to notice. Hancock was a relatively young man, late thirties, his brown curly hair made him look like a lost puppy at the moment. Loose hair curled arround his face. His eyebrows tilted down in the expression of sympathy. His blue eyes stuck out and poped at annyone he looked at him. He glanced arround the room eyes full of sadness, they lingered most on the fighters. Adams and Dickenson were at it again.

"I dont understand why you won't even give the matter the courtesy of open debate!"

Hancock sighed. Somehow John made every sentence into a shout. Dickenson turned to the president.

"Mr. Hancock I say the matter of independence be prosponded, indefinately."

The Congress broke out into shouting match, it got louder, and Louder, And Louder, AND Louder, AND LOUDER untill Hancock had enough. His puppy dog face replaced by pure fury and contempt. His eyes burned fire and he was sweating in the middle of December Mr. Housoun or Mr. Sam Adams wasn't there to curb his flaming temper. He did alright by himself but he had enough that day. Today the congress would shut up and do as they were told.

"Sit down and shut up all of you!"

Inside he was thinking.

Please get here soon. I don't know how much of this I can take.


Housoun was at a full gallop when he reached the congress. A croud had quickly gathered. He began to talk and point at the locals ordering them about. Normaly he would never do such a thing. Desprate times call for desprate measures.

"Can you please send for a doctor to reach the Congress? Tell him it was a bullet. Thank you. Can you sir please help me bring Mr. Adams in? I thank you. Oh and can the rest of you give us some space? Thanks."

The townsfolk dispursed and Dr. Housoun and the villager picked up Sam and brought him inside. The immediate warmth spread throughout Sam's body. Dr. Hall checked his pulse and gave a sigh of relief.

"Still breathing... thats good."


Sams pov

A searing pain broke through my body. I couldn't move. I gasped for air. Some things we take for granted. It scared me to think how easily my right had been taken. I tried to move my eyes. Even that was too much effort so I kept them closed. How weak I had become so suddenly. I could hear the mumbled voice of Doctor Hall. A searing pain broke through my blood again, and then it stoped. I felt numb. Where am I?


The congress had no idea what happened outside the doors. They were too worried about what was going on inside. Every congressman quaked in his boots and returned to there seats. They all looked at Hancock who was pale as a ghost despite the heat of the room. Dr. Franklin broke the scilence.

"Are you Alright Mr. Hancock?"

The Congress saw how John Hancock might look when he was old. A crumpled withered beaten man with silver long hair and bags under his eyes. Beaten to the point of no return. They nervously figited in their seats waiting for him to respond to the odvious question. Hancock continued to stair at his hands for a while giving no sighn of hearing Dr. Franklin.

"Mr. Hancock?" Asked John Dickenson wondering if the man could hear him.

Slowly Hancock's maple brown eyes lost their spark and the men in the room looked nervously at eachother. Mr. Hancock Then slowly he lowered his head onto the oak desk and fainted. The congress immediately sprung into action. A mass panic attack occured.

"Elevate his feet!" Shouted Henry Lee of Virginia. Jumping over his desk in a scramble to save Hancock. In midair he decided to trip over his own feet and feel to the floor landing on his head.

"That isn't the first time somones done that to him."

Mumbled Adams from his standing position beside Hancock's desk.

"No elevate his head!" Cried Robert Sherman in mass panic, flinging his arms arround wildly.

"Fetch me two rums!" Croaked Steven Hopkins conpletely unaware of the comotion. McNair angrily threw up his hands in a fit of madness and hobbled halfway accross the room.

"No send for a doctor!" Argued Adams, stoping McNair midstep.

"Check his pulse!" Drawled Edward Rutlege in his annoying southern accent, offering his constructive crittism for everyone to hear. Unfortunately no man was listening.

"New York abstains!" Shouted Mr. Livingston standing up from his seat beating his fist on a desk.

"FROM WHAT?" Shouted the Congress throwing up their hands.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Screamed Livingston back startling the Congress for a brief moment.

"Please stop shouting." Jefferson wispered from his seat by the window seat, but was not heard over the comotion.

McNair had returned with two rums for Hopkins some how making it across the room without being recomanded. He set them down on the desk with force splashing the rum everywhere. Hopkins picked both them up and hobbled (at an impressive speed I might add) over to the crowd surrounding Hancock.

"Alrighty Johnny move outa the way!"

John Dickenson moved reluctantly and Hopkins hobbled over to Hancock. He tilted the mans head back and opened his mouth. He poured the one beer down draining it all. Hancock began to choke and sputter clutching his throat. Hancock twitched and held his head. Hopkins picked up the other bear and threw it on Hancocks face. Hancock continued to choke but opened his eyes comfirming he was alive. Henry Lee jumped out from behind the crowd nocking over a chair in the process.

"I'll save you Johnny boy!"

He pounded Hancock on the back repetively hard. He finaly stoped chokeing and gave Lee a half hearted smile.

"I'm alright now, thanks. You may return to your seats."

The congress glanced nervously at eachother. The president did not look better, if annything he looked worse with rum all over him. They did as said. Hancock began to assume his role as president again.

"Concerning the debate to prospone independence indefinatly again. Those for."

The dispatch guy got up and began to count the fingers.







He turned to Hancock who gave him a smile.

"Those against?"







The New York delegation stood.

"New York abstains, respectively."

Hancock sighed and stood.

"Very well, anny tied votes go to the president. The chair rules talk of independence should be not prosponed although it should be cautioned. If It is absolutely necessary to declare independence it must be discussed with the chair. If anny hostilities with Brittian escelate then this is null and void. You may talk about it as you please."

Hancock sat down heavily and the room burst into uproars of joy and anger. Hancock seemed to regret his decision a little. Now was not the time for Adams lectures. Mr. Adams was the first to react, of course.

"John listen to yourself you've gone insain!"

Mr. Dickenson was the one to praise Mr. Hancock.

"Your sent from heaven Mr. Hancock!"

Just then an increadably weary Dr. Hall stumbled into congress. His wig lopsided and his hat flat made him look disheavled. The double doors clashing against the walls. Dr. Hall leaned up against a wall to keep from falling. He gave Hancock a look of woe.

"Sam got shot."

The congress had yet another mass panic attack. Everyone except John Adams ran out the double doors. John remained calm in his seat unmoved. After every man cleared the room he calmly got up and followed. After all they were so diffrent, they might not even be considered related. He picked up his old walking stick and did as the name suggests. He cleared a path into the room. This had to be a joke.

Sam Adams doesn't just die. Yet John began to question his judgement when he entered the hallway. The men stood with their heads bowed in mutual respect. Even Dickenson looked shot himself. The croud began to clear a path for John, their eyes on the floor. He began to doubt his over confidence in his cousin. The walk in the hall way seemed to last an eternity. A slow motion hell. Then he saw Sam.

Everything slowed and began to turn backwards. Traveling backwards. A family reunion. The go happy relatives showing of their proud accomplishments. Sam and John were not with the rest of the Adams family. They sat together on a hill over looking the entire fiasco. Under the apple tree in bloom. The pink flowers surrounding the two on the ground. Sam sat with his eyes closed and hands folded, and legs outstreatched, hapily napping with cousin John. John sat beside him, wanting to ask one question but not knowing how to put it.

"Sam, will you be with me forever?"

Sam awoke from his peaceful slumber to this harsh question. He ajusted himself and looked over at his cousin, head cocked to the side. Like a hen wondering where the grain is, moving it's head in rigid motions. Sam then gave a loud sigh and returned to his origional position. Sam, being the taller of the two looked down at his cousin.

"Forever is a long time, but I will be with you through thick and thin if you decide to be their with me as well."

Content with the anwser the two fell back in wearyness.

Standing their John remembered the promise to his cousin. He fell to his knee's at the sight of Sam in this condition. His arm and leg bound proposing he had been shot twice. His eyes red John Adams stood up and quietly walked over to the doctor.

"His contition sir?"

The doctor looked at John nervously shifting as he concluded who the man was. He stoped shifting and looked John in the eye. Wanting to say he had looked John Adams in the eyes and lived. To the doctors suprise, only pain lingered in John's brown eyes.

"If he makes it through the night he will survive." Concluded the Doctor begining to pack his equiptment and finishing the operation. John gave a brief nod of thanks. Two townsmen then loaded Sam onto a stretcher and cartered him from the building. John watched them go in scilence. The congress shifted nervously and started to back away, frightened of John in a bad mood. To tell you the truth he wasn't very appealing in a good mood. To their suprise John did not say annything for a long while, stairing at the floor in scilence. He then shook his head and walked from the building in odvious dismay, after his cousin Sam. A long scilence followed. John Dickenson then walked into the center of the circle, and turned to face his fellow delegates.

"I say the talk of Independence be prosponed, indefinately."

Another long scilence followed. Then the Reverand John Witherspoon came up to the opposing John. His eyes growing angry made Dickenson shudder, and Witherspoon puched him right square on the nose.

"Taking advantage of a dieing mans absence to get what you want. How DARE you. How DARE YOU."

The Congress stood watching in unparalleled shock as Mr. Witherspoon walked from the room. Mr. Lee then walked into the center and stood facing Dickenson. Dickenson clutched his probably broken nose in pain. Lee then turned to the man in a threatening stance, for he was at least a head taller.

"He's got a point John, no man should stoop that low."

Mr. Lee the weirdest, dumbest man in Congress, was right for once in his life. The congress slowly departed from the hall, like ghosts gone into another world.


John caught up to the two men transporting Sam. His poor cousin. Perhaps if Sam survived the night he'd ask him. Sam seemed to toss and turn every time the men moved. The four of them walked down the quaint street Sam lived on. When men passed by they removed their hats in respect. Wommen gave a quick sob and children asked why the other Mr. Adams wasn't walking to. The transporters had some trouble getting up the stairs and in the door. John grabbed a key that Sam always kept under the mat because he always seemed to loose his other key, and have it reappear days later. Elizabeth always joked that Sam always lost his head, he only found it when Congress came over. The men walked into the small room Sam occupied. They layed him down on a bed. They removed their hats and left without a word. The room was quaint, with touches that symbolised Massachusetts. A two roomed apartment that had a kitchen and a living-sleeping area. A large, arched, window over looked a square that looked like one from Massachusetts. A large desk was proped by the window and parchment was neatly centered in the middle. An owl feather was in the inkwell as if Sam would just wake up and write somthing down. John felt somthing slide down his cheek as he thought of this.

John wiped the frozen tears from his eyes and began to work. He went to the fire place and attempted to light a fire. He took a newspaper from the table and almost crumbled it up. Realizing it might be somthing inportant he turned it over.

Boston Gazette

John began to read aloud to himself.

"John Adams defends 13 redcoats in trial for killing civilians."

He picked up another paper. Same title.

"John Adams joins Continential Congress."

He took another paper from the table.

"Heated debate between Dickenson and John Adams in Congress."

He reached for another paper and groped arround for a moment. He then found, not a paper, but a drawing. A quite good one to be frank, though John would never admit it aloud. It was a drawing of a lady. She had beautiful features and held a torch high above her head. She wore some sort of toga held up at her hips along with a book. She wore a crown as well that spiked out in all directions. It was pictured so you were in a boat comming toward the lady. John stood up looking at all the things Sam had collected. He reached for another paper. It was for him.

Dear John,

I'm off to Boston again. I have to visit my family. I hope Dickenson doesn't crack the whip harder on your back than usual. If you find this you either let youself in, or I am in a state where I cannot move in myself. If I am hurt please try to take care of my family if I die. Make shure the children go to school and Elizabeth doesn't have to work to hard to get by. I hope you will honor my wishes. My will is in the third droor down in my desk. Otherwise Get out of my house and stop snooping in my stuff.


John left the note in the kitchen and went out to draw water from the well in Sam's yard. He fastened the bucket to the rope and lowered it down into the gloom. He brought it back into the house with some straining. He sat the bucket beside Sam's bed and sat beside Sam. He took two fingers to Sam's neck to check for a pulse and found one beating almost normaly. John gave a sigh of relief and removed his fingers. John then felt Sam's head. It was hot but not by much. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a wash cloth. He then returned to the bucket and soaked the rag in the water. He held it to Sam's head for a while. He returned it to the bucket and walked over to the desk by the window. He sat at the desk and dipped the quil in the inkwell.

Dear Elizabeth,

I'm writing with serious and sad tidings. Your husband, my cousin, Sam has been shot. We do not know who by. I would appriciate it dearly if you would come to see him. If he survives the night he will pull through. I hope he will.

John Adams

John finished his letter and walked out to the Riders to see if they could deliver his letter. After a brief moment of talking and bribing he got a man on the job. He returned to the house to wait. As he climbed the stair case he was interupted by a man calling his name.

"Mr. Adams!"

He turned to see Henry Lee of Viginia standing on the side of the road. He returned back down the stairs to where Lee stood.


Lee glanced at Mr. Adams.

"He'll be fine John. Theirs no one stronger than Sam."

John had a sudden urge to get it all out.

"If he doesn't?"

Lee staired at his gloves for a moment.

"I've been right once today. I have a feeling I'll be right again. If i'm not... Well I may not be the brightest fire in the woods but I think I will be."

He left John with mixed feelings of shock and gratitude. John remained outside a moment longer remembering where Lee had just stood. He then walked back up the staircase and sat down on the desk chair. He examined Sam for anny sighns of deterioration and found himself satisfied with none. He sat back the chair and fell into an uncomfortable sleep.


John was awoke when light seeped through the window.


He rushed over to Sam like a boy at Christmas, not shure if their will be presents. He put two fingers to Sams throat. He searched a bit and put a hand on Sams heart.

"He's ALIVE!"


Sams pov

I tilted my head slightly and managed to open my eyes. Next to my bed was John. He was kneeling at my side with tears all over his face. I smiled slightly to myself.

What is that laying on my shoulder?

I tried to turn my head but a sudden shot of fire lept up my neck preventing me from doing just that. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, like it had been doused by water. I decided it probably wasn't smart to move. I also realised that my throat hurt like heck. I moved my mouth without words. John stood from his kneeling positon at the side of my bed.

"What is it Sam?"

Their was worry in John's eyes. I hadn't seen him feel, scared in a long time. I managed to get a word out of my scratchy throat.


John out the door to the lawn. I watched him go out of the corner of my eye. As soon as I felt shure he had gone I decided It would be nice to sit up so I wouldn't choke on water. I took my good arm and attempted to sit up, by pushing up on the bed and putting my back to the headboard. I hoped John would take his time in the kitchen because this was taking longer that expected. A dull pain filled my body, but nothing compared to the fire that licked my leg. I mannaged to move my head to the side to scruntise the bandaging done on my shoulder. I looked up to see John walk back into the room, with the water. He walked over to me careful not to spill took my head in one hand and tilted it back. I managed to make my mouth work and open. He poured it all down. The rush of cold helped calm the pain a bit.

"Thats good."

John gave a small laugh of relief. He walked over to my desk by the window, and sat down in the chair. He looked as if he'd slept in a chair all night. He probably had. John continued to stair at Sam as if he wanted to ask him somthing but not knowing how to put it. John stared at his hands for a while.

"Sam, who shot you?"