"Mark, you need to wake up...please."

"I already took Lucy for her walk." Mark mumbled, cracking his eyes open slightly to look at his brother.

He was confused to see tears in his eyes, a sad smile on his face as he hugged him tight.

That was when he remembered what happened.

The base burning.

Running from Thomas.

The soldier.

The explosion.

Dad.

"Where's Dad?" Mark demanded frantically, bolting upright into a sitting position so quickly that it made him feel light headed.

"I don't know, they're still looking for survivors." Thomas answered, gently pushing Mark backward so his head landed back onto the pillow.

"But-"

"No buts, you nearly died and I don't want you going back there." Thomas cut him off tersely.

"Don't you care about Dad?" Mark protested.

"Of course I do." Thomas replied defensively.

"Then help me look for him." Mark begged.

"Mark-"

"I'm not going to just sit here." Mark interrupted.

"I'm going. Whether you come with me or not is your choice." Mark continued, sitting up slower this time and hopping off of his bed.

He was glad that other than having a hell of a headache, he surprisingly felt fine.

"Stop being so damn selfish for once!"

Mark froze halfway to the door, whirling around to glare at Thomas furiously.

"You think I'm being selfish!? You're the one that's wanting me to stay home and be safe while our dad is possibly hurt or dying!" Mark snapped, stepping closer to Thomas.

Thomas flinched back slightly, but didn't back away and kept his expression calm.

"I can't lose you. You can't do that to Mom." Thomas whispered softly.

"I'll be fine." Mark replied stiffly as he stormed out, leaving Thomas alone in his room.

Mark ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the base, hoping with all of his heart that the destroyed base wasn't where his dad was posted.

"Hey kid!"

Mark was surprised when he saw the same soldier that had tried to make him leave the base greeting him with a wave.

His face was heavily bandaged, the patches of skin barely visible burnt a vibrant red and badly scarred.

"Have you seen my dad Officer Fischbach anywhere?" Mark questioned.

"I haven't. Things have been chaotic since about two thousand five hundred soldiers got killed and another one thousand two hundred were wounded. Eighteen of our ships were sunk too." The soldier scowled bitterly.

"Who attacked us?" Mark frowned in confusion.

"The damn Nips blew up Pearl Harbor." The soldier growled angrily.

"Nips?" Mark repeated.

"Japanese, but we call them Nips since it's a nickname we made in the First World War using an ethnically slurred version of their word for Japan, Nippon." The soldier explained.

"Look, I'll let you know if we find him. For now, you should go home and be with your family." The soldier urged him sternly.

"Fine." Mark muttered in defeat, trudging back home.

He instantly became excited when he saw a uniformed soldier standing at his door.

"Dad!" Mark exclaimed in relief, running towards him and wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry kid."

Mark felt his world collapse when the man turned around.

He looked nothing like his dad.

"Y-you're just here to tell us that dad's a-alright, right?" Mark stuttered hopefully.

"Your father was killed in the bombing of Pearl Habor on his way out after having formally resigned from the army...I'm sorry." The soldier apologized lamely before walking away.

Mark saw Thomas and their mom standing in the doorway, tears freely streaming down their cheeks as Thomas held Mom in his arms.

Thomas opened his arms up and allowed Mark to join with a sad smile.

Instantly Mark joined the embrace, feeling his own eyes well up with tears that he tried to no avail to not shed so he could be strong for his family.

But he couldn't be strong for them.

Not with Dad gone.

The three stood in the doorway and cried, holding each other close and praying that wherever he was that he was happy.

By the time Mark stopped crying, he felt absolutely exhausted both physically and mentally.

He picked at his dinner of chicken and egg dumplings, which was his favorite, before retreating into his room to try and sleep.

He ended up staying up all night with his eyes closed so he could see his dad's smiling face in his mind and hear the memory of his laugh in his ears while breathing in the scent of his sweat and cologne.

He had to put a pillow over his head to muffle the sobs coming from his mother's room and the shouts of anger from his brother's room.