"Listen, if I don't make it-"

"Shut up. You will."

"I'm serious. If I don't come back, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?"

"I love you."

"What?"

"I-I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Wait! You can't just leave!"

"I'm sorry. I'll send you a letter, if I can. Goodbye."

"Goodbye..."

Nico played their last conversation over and over in his head, trying to decipher Will's every word, trying to figure out what had been said.

It just wasn't fair. Why did William have to be sent out? Nico knew that the army needed doctors, but Will was barely old enough to drink. He still had that childish light in his eyes. Nico imagined thse blue eyes darkened with death, devoid of any light, any sign of the boy Nico knew extinguished in seconds by a gunshot, a bomb, a missile...

No. He had to stop giving himself these nightmares.

It had been too long. Will had never gone this long without telling Nico where he was. No matter what, he always sent a letter or a postcard or something within the first week he was gone. Nico always knew that Will was okay, that he was visiting family or training at a hospital or even just down the street like always. It made Nico feel better, made him feel like Will was always there, no matter where he was.

But when William Solace left for the war, the letters stopped. Nothing came for two years.

During those two years, Nico pushed everyone away. People stopped paying attention to him, and that was fine. If anyone came near Nico, he snapped at them until they left. Will was gone, probably dead, and Nico was miserable.

Then he heard the screams.

He knew they'd come someday; there was no other possibility. Someday, a stern-looking officer would come to the Solace's doorstep in full military gear, hands clasped behind his back as he deliverd the news with a blank stare: William Samson Solace, in whatever rank he'd earned, had given his life for the United States of America. Undoubtedly he'd done it to save someone else. Will's sisters and brothers would stand around in shock until they accepted the inevitable and broke down in tears.

Later on, a body would be brought to the nearby cemetary, and the neighborhood would come and grieve, because everyone loved Will. More of William's comrades would stand by the grave, folding a flag into a neat triangle, which they would present to Will's crying family. Life would go on.

But not for Will.