AN: In honor of independence day and dedicated to BeachSweet101 who requested this on tumblr. Wishing you all a safe and happy fourth.

John Hancock is many things. He is a businessman, a member of the church, a respectable man. He is a rebel, a patriot, a man on the run. A man who falls deeper into a cause he never envisioned existing everyday. He is someone with a cause, with a reason, with no real plan but to win.

To come out of this alive and get the others out with him.

He is not having dreams about the likes of Sam Adams, he is not scared every minute of the hour, he is not someone people will die because of.

He is not a murder.

Except he is all these things. And when Sam pulls the gun away from him; pries it from his hands gently like he is a wounded animal John looks down the redcoat's body. A young man, younger than him, cut down on the ground, hat gone and blood, God so much blood to be dead already, oozing out of a pistol wound in his head.

It adds to the confusion, to the hurt, to the unrightful traum inside. It all keeps him up at night. Keeps away the relief of sleep after long days at Franklin's. Since, well, after everything, is he even John Hancock anymore