Chapter Text
June 6th, 1944: 7:30 AM
Mikey was hiding behind a barricade, hyperventilating. Why did he agree to this? Why was he still here? How was he still alive? Where was his brother?
As the endless thoughts swirled through his mind, he felt his throat close up, whimpering had he tried to get the air to his lungs and to his brain.
"Mikey! Now's your chance! Go, go, go!"
Gerard's voice snapped Mikey from his trance. The adrenaline coursing through his veins, the blood drumming in his ears and the fogginess of coming out of panic left his body to operate sheerly on the instruction of his lieutenant. With one last panicked breath, Mikey got up and ran. He knew the risk somewhere in the back of his mind. Just keep going. Just keep going.
Mikey got knocked back and down. Why wasn't he running? What's happening? Why can he taste blood?
Oh.
Somewhere faintly he could hear Gerard yelling as he fell.
Ray rushed to his side, quickly applying pressure to the younger's chest.
"Hey, hey Mikey. Mikey baby, stay with me. You're gonna be okay yeah? I got you. Hold on for me." Ray's voice was shaking as he spoke.
"Ray..?" Mikey's eyes fought to stay open, vision starting to go black. "Ray.. I.. I love you."
"I love you too, Mikey. You're gonna be okay I promise. Just hold on."
"Tell Gee, I never doubted him for a min..."
"Mike? Mikey!? Wake up you're okay wake up."
Fuck.
Ray started to tear up, his lover had died in his arms. Distantly, he heard Gerard screaming. Crying it almost sounded. He looked over to see Frank and Pete were holding him down. Pete looked like he'd seen a ghost. Frank was near crying from trying to make sure Gerard didn't die too. Ray could swear he hears his Lieutenant's heart breaking under the raw, desperate sob of his voice.
Tears fell on deaf ears and cracked glasses and his soul left his body too. Sure, everything Mikey did was like watching a car crash get narrowly avoided, but Ray never thought that car would actually get into an accident. Let alone would that accident be fatal.
Ray didn't move. He couldn't. It felt like hours had passed as he took his place and laid beside his sun.
He was ripped from his thoughts by the yell of "RETREAT!"
Looking around. The surviving German soldier's fled. They had won. They had won but at what cost? Normandy was secured. Is that worth it?
As soon as they were safe, Gerard ran desperately to his brother's side. They choked on a whimper the second they saw his corpse.
Gerard said to go in. Gerard gave Mikey that command. So he's the one to blame for his death. Oh God. He lead his own brother to die. And he trusted him. What kind of monster had he become?
Pete sat beside Ray and held him as he cried. Gerard gathered his baby brother's lifeless body into his arms, fingernails pressing red crescents into their own palms, scared to hurt Mikey's body, like he'd be able to feel the pain.
The broken sobs poured out silently from the Lieutenant's mouth. Frank kneeled beside them, rubbing their back and holding them gently.
"...It's not your fault, Gee."
Gerard shook his head and didn't look up.
"I promise it's not. We lost so many. It's not like you tried to get him..." Frank's voice trailed off, unable to say the word himself.
Gerard took anything off Mikey's uniform he could, shoving them into his pockets, picking up knocked out teeth and putting on Mikey's glasses. The already swirling world suddenly seemed nauseating through the unnecessary lenses, but he didn't care. It made Mikey feel closer.
The General yelled for everyone to get back on the boat. Frank ushered everyone on. And there Mikey was left.
A cold, corpse on the beaches of Normandy.