"Mark, there's something I need to tell you." Thomas whispered in Mark's ear, gently shaking him to wake him up.

"Can't it wait until later?" Mark groaned wearily, swatting Thomas's hand away.

"I got a letter in the mail...I was drafted for the war." Thomas sighed.

"What?!" Mark yelled in alarm, instantly awake as he bolted up into a sitting position and scanned Thomas's face for any sigh that could prove that he was only joking like Mark hoped he was.

His face was grimly serious, which was rare for him.

"Does Mom know?" Mark asked in a softer tone.

Thomas shook his head no as he ran a hand through his raven black hair in exasperation.

"I can't tell her, that would just break her after losing Dad." Thomas explained.

"When would you tell her though, when you leave?" Mark pointed out.

"No, it's just...." Thomas trailed off, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I'll tell her later." Thomas decided.

"Tell me what later?"

The brothers whirled around to find Mom standing in the doorway.

"Nothing." Thomas lied before Mark could speak up.

Mom shrugged, happy with the answer as she walked down to the kitchen to make breakfast.

"Why did you lie to her?" Mark hissed.

"I said that I'd tell her later." Thomas huffed back as he left the room with Mark following behind him.

Mark and Thomas didn't speak to each other during the quick breakfast of oatmeal and leftover bacon, thier Mom unaware of the silent battle occurring between them when thier dark brown eyes locked.

"So," Mom cleared her throat.

"I was told last night that we're now under martial law." She stated.

"What?!" The brothers exclaimed in unison with eyes wide in surprise.

"It means that we have a curfew, wages are frozen, work hours are set, rent prices are controlled, press is being censored, and the bars and restaurants are being regulated." She informed them grimly.

"Who's doing this?" Thomas demanded with barely restrained rage.

"The military." She admitted.

"What are you worried about anyway Thomas, it's not like you'll be here for it." Mark scowled bitterly.

"What do you mean?" Mom turned on Thomas with a confused expression.

Thomas shot Mark a glare before looking back at Mom hesitantly.

"I...in the mail I got a letter. I've been drafted for the war." Thomas admitted reluctantly.

"When did you get the letter?!" Mom snapped, looking angry for the first time since Mark could remember.

"Early this morning." Thomas muttered softly.

She didn't respond as she abruptly stood up, dumped her plate in the sink, then stormed out of the room.

"If what she said is true, there's no point for me to stay." Mark realized aloud as he stated out the doorway she left from.

"I'm joining the military with you." Mark decided firmly.

"There's no way you're joining the army!" Thomas protested fiercely.

"I have to, I can't let you go alone. Besides, even if I don't join now, I'll probably just be drafted anyway." Mark argued.

"What about Mom?" Thomas countered.

"The neighbors already promised to watch over her while we're gone." Mark stated.

The two brothers were silent for a moment as they stared each other down.

"You're so stubborn." Thomas huffed as he stormed out of the room.

"Like father like son." Mark replied with a chuckle as he followed Thomas out.

The brothers followed the address on the letter to an office close to the coast where men were already lined up as either draftees like Thomas or volunteers like Mark.

He noticed that there was a mix of not only Hawaiians, but also Americans that were standing off to the side already in uniform.

"Jason Thomas Fischbach!" The soldier at the desk called out.

Thomas bravely stepped up, standing respectively with his hands behind his back as the soldier studied him closely before looking down at the papers in his hands. 

"You're clear. Welcome to the military son." The soldier nodded, patting Thomas on the back as he walked off.

"I'm here as a volunteer sir." Mark stated as he stepped up, feeling his pulse racing as he tried to look at least half as brave as Thomas.

"Name?" He prompted.

"Mark Edward Fischbach." Mark stated.

"Age and date of birth?" The soldier continued, scribbling notes down on a blank application for him.

"Eighteen and June twenty-eighth." Mark recited.

"I remember your dad, he was a good man." The soldier nodded as he tucked the application in with the others.

"Well Mark, welcome to the military. Your new home is Fort Shafter." The soldier informed him before moving on to the next person.

Once everyone was registered, the group of men walked to their new home, wondering if they'd ever get to go back to their family.