A/N: If you do not understand the historical context, please see the author's note at the bottom, where all of the historical references have been explained. I do not own Hetalia or John Adams.

It was easy to forget that America was a fledgling nation who held more gruesome memories than anyone could ever imagine. And it was only in moments like these that John Adams found his reminder.

"Blind Justice"

1770

"The law, [says he,] no passion can disturb."

"How could you agree to this? You're a patriot through and through," the angry outburst was sudden and unexpected, reverberating loudly throughout the otherwise quiet house.

"Hush, you'll wake the children."

"You're defending British soldiers, John. British soldiers that shot five colonists."

"I've not agreed to it. I'm simply entertaining their offer."

Abigail Adams calmed herself down, and spoke in a voice that portrayed more quiet resignation than her previous outrage. "And even simply considering it goes against everything you believe in."

"They're offering eighteen guineas, Abigail. I'd be a fool not to consider it," the man's tone was no-nonsense, matter-of-fact.

"But John, this could ruin you…"

The wife trailed off, correctly interpreting the man's stony expression as a signal not to push the issue any further, and the conversation lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. John Adams continued to pour over his transcriptions of previous court cases by candlelight. And his wife retreated to the far corner of the room and tried to focus on the book she had been reading before the discussion began.

The tension in the air was disrupted, however, when both of them heard the quick opening and closing of the front door, accompanied by the scuffling of a person's shoes in the front hall. Not long after, the silhouette of a gangly boy in his late teens appeared in the doorway of the library.

The lawyer raised an eyebrow.

"And where've you been, America," he said to the newcomer, "for you to return at such an ungodly hour?"

"With Revere and Hancock," he flashed a brilliant smile at the married couple as he discarded his overcoat, leaving it haphazardly lying on one of the chairs.

The older man was unsurprised by the colony's choice of company. "And how are John and Paul?"

"Excellent, Mr. Revere's been selling prints of a new engraving, you both must see it sometime," the younger blond replied happily.

"That sounds reasonable."

"Did they give you anything to eat, or would you like some supper?" Abigail asked, her voice sounding strained by weariness.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Adams," the boy responded, "They fed me."

"You've had a trying day, dear. So why don't you go to bed," John suggested upon noticing his wife's drooping shoulders.

"Yes, that seems like a good idea. I'll be retiring for the night," she said, ambling over to give America a stern hug, which the man received graciously. She then approached the table at which her husband sat, hovering above the man for a moment as if unsure of what to do; however the woman quickly made up her mind, running her hand through the lawyer's hair and bending down to look him in the eyes.

Her face entered the small space illuminated by the candlelight, exposing her worried face and watery eyes. She was obviously troubled. She placed shaking hands on her husband's shoulders and kissed his forehead.

"I trust your judgment, John, but I worry for you as well," and with those sentiments expressed, she left for the night.

There was a silence that did not take on any personality or tensions. America situated himself at the table, his expression portraying concerned surprise and curiosity; he sat across from the other man, who had buried his face in his hands.

"I don't wish to cause her such grief," the lawyer replied, accentuating the remark with a sad sigh and concern that showed blatantly on his face.

"Well, these certainly aren't times which inspire joy," the other remarked dryly, bringing a wry, self-depreciating smile to the elder man's lips. "But I do find that discussing my problems with people helps to lessen their gravity," the blonde went on to hint hopefully.

John smiled, though the issue that weighed upon him saddened the usually happy expression.

"It's the Boston Massacre," the lawyer stated simply.

"What of it?" the other inquired further.

"I was approached by James Forest today. He wants me to be the British soldiers' defense attorney," many expressions flit across the John Adam's face, finally ending on of a man torn, while America simply sat in shocked silence.

"To refuse these soldiers a fair trial is to anger the British Empire, and risk retaliation," he began pacing anxiously, and America was given the feeling that the lawyer was talking more to himself than anyone else. "But this goes against my patriotic beliefs. It could severely hurt my reputation; my law practice would lose much of its business. And I'd lose the respect of the other patriots."

"But you'll go through with it anyways," the nation stated simply.

John looked at the boy with the startled expression of one rudely pulled from slumber by a dousing of cold water. "And why would that be?" his tone was more curious than condescending.

"Because justice is truly blind to all but the facts." America was pacing now, not with the languid, lost movements that the lawyer exhibited before, but with short, clipped movements and posture that spoke of righteous, indignant fury. "Just as time waits for no man, the law bows to no man's prejudices. The law can't succumb to something as insignificant and fleeting as men's desires…

"You weren't there, in Salem, Mr. Adams. Those farce cases made mockeries of the court systems." his posture slumped, and the nation's eyes spoke of devastation far greater than any words could portray. He sighed sadly and ran a hand through his hair before continuing. "S-so many deaths, so many hung, and all without proper trials or anyone to speak in their defense. It was sickening.

"That's why you've got to represent them. Without a fair trial, we'd never know if their executions were just. The law can't be enacted without both sides able to tell their half of the story, and enacting the law is a calling higher than any political affiliations you may bear."

"I…see," the older patriot finally responded, shocked that so much indignant anger and dark memories could be held within such a seemingly happy individual, as well as the young man's ability to pull such a magnificent speech seemingly out of thin air.

With his happy attitude and endless optimism, it was easy to forget that the young man before him was in fact a fledgling nation, who held more gruesome secrets than anyone could possibly imagine. However, there were small moments like these that reminded the older man just how much America had seen in his lifetime.

"I suppose I've made my position rather clear, haven't I?" the young nation replied, scratching the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly.

"Ah, yes. I believe you have. Now you must be tired, so why don't you go to bed?" the elder spoke in a voice that was not entirely present, and his eyes were lost deeply in thought.

"Alright," America nodded, collecting his coat and making walking into the hall. However, he paused in the doorway, turning around to say one last thing before he went to bed. "Goodnight, Mr. Adams…and good luck."

John Adams truly smiled at that, a mirthful expression unhindered by doubts or fears. It was a trying day, but a good night indeed, and he now knew what course of action he was to take. So he hurried about the library, he collecting quills, an inkwell and parchment, and went about putting his ideas into words.

He set his quill to the parchment and began to write.

"The law, in all vicissitudes of government, fluctuations of the passions, or flights of enthusiasm, will preserve a steady undeviating course; it will not bend to the uncertain wishes, imaginations, and wanton tempers of men."

~Speech by John Adams in defense of the British soldiers accused at the Boston Massacre Trial

A guinea is a British monetary unit, worth roughly 21 shillings; 18 guineas would be 379 shillings.

In colonial America, lunch was "dinner", and was the primary meal of the day; what we now know as dinner was "supper," and was usually smaller portions of food and some alcoholic beverage served rather late.

I will not even try to summarize the Salem Witchcraft Trials. Google it, if you must.

Both quotes were from John Adams's speech in the defense of the British officers.

Review? Pretty please with a burnt scone on top?