The human mind has the ability to turn off feelings after a trauma.

The thing with William was that he should be used to it, should be okay with seeing the blood of people he knew soaking the grounds, turning the vivid colours crimson.

But no matter what, his hands would always be scarred with murder and no matter how far he ran, his hair still smelled of war and running and running and running...

The sound of their heavy breathing and bounding hearts drowned out the silence as they became to a stop. John fell heavily against a tree, sliding down the rough bark. His head lulled back as he stared into the clear blue sky, his chest falling up and down rapidly. A suffocating sound left his lips as be forced his eyes shut. "It's okay, we are okay. we are fine." John mumbled, still keeping his eyes shut as he clutched the rifle to his chest.

Elliot looked around, holding his breath as he looked for anything out of place. They could still hear the distant sound of grenades and bombs going off being followed by silence and after that a row of gunshots made Williams skin bristle.

"Dum vivimus, vivamus." The dark-haired man mumbled in Latin. John gulped, prying his green eyes open as he looked at John with newfound strength. "While we live..." his voice was merely a whisper. "let us live." Elliot finished, standing closer to John as his hand rested on the other man's shoulder. John nodded and stood up, eyes filled with rage as the darkness in him creeping into the surface.

Both of their attention was caught by the sound of something heavy falling onto ground with a loud thud. Elliot's hand went to the small knife on his belt while John took a hold of the unloaded rifle that he has been clutching to his chest earlier. However, he relaxed slightly when he realizes it was William who had collapsed on the soft moss.

"Fuck- Elliot, keep a lookout. I've seen this before." John ordered, falling on his knees before panic-ridden William. The boy's face was glistening with sweat as he watched up at John helplessly, blue eyes wide and desperately searching help from Johns calm ones. His hands that were scratching his own neck and throat were gently clasped into Johns warm ones. Williams breathing was ragged, as if a piece of sharpnel had got into his lungs. His chest was moving up and down in an uneven pace, his hands shaking so bad he nearly forced himself to bite the inside of his cheek or even his tongue if only it weren't for the chattering of his teeth.

John had seen this all, before his twin had been killed, he had been a victim of an attack that was purely a torture created by his own mind. As much as people wanted to turn away, it was a common sight among men of war. William had turned into a soldier, and for soldiers, war never ended.

"Look at me, hey, kid." John said gently, realizing William was gripping his hand as if his life depended on it. John carefully placed his free hand on Williams trembling shoulder, gently helping him sit up. "Hey Thiefling, focus on my voice okay?" he said steadily, ignoring the distant echoes of grenades. William hiccuped, trying to gasp in oxygen as his blond head fell onto Johns sturdy chest, trying to hide from the world, from the hate, the pain and death.

Williams head felt like it was about to explode, his temples ached and his chest hurt even worse. Ashamed, he felt the tears prickle behind his blue irises. He could feel Johns calloused fingers skim through his dishevelled hair, telling him to keep taking deep breaths. He didn't want to face either of the men, Will just wanted to die right then and right there.

He didn't want to be a soldier anymore.

"You're safe with us, you know that right? You're okay mate, just keep breathing and counting the numbers. I used to tell my brother to keep counting different cars, do you like cars, Willey? Count cars, I like birds. Hey, see? There's a bird watching us Willey, an eagle." John whispered, his hands still securely around the younger, trembling boy. "If you're ever in a situation like that again, find me. Find Johnathan Lawford, Will. And if I'm absent, start counting birds. Eagles, okay?" he mumbled, glancing at Elliot who was standing a couple feet from them, sympathetic eyes flickering between the two on the ground and the still forest around them.

"I have a dog." John started, rubbing Williams back soothingly, trying to make him feel better. "His name is Hunter, my brother and I got him secretly. We wanted to get ourselves a hunting dog, so we searched and searched, finally finding someone whose dogs just had pups." John smiled, reliving the old memory. "We chose the darkest pup, we though he would blend in nicely with the forest you know? Ma didn' know anything until we got back, hiding a small dog in our jacket. She was so so furious at us. We barely bad a penny to feed ourselves and now a dog?" he shook his head, realising the shaking in Will's shoulders had eased a little. "Hunter started following Ma around the house, choosing her to be his human. You can bet my brother and I never got that hunting dog, Hunter is a lazy bastard who just loves Ma for her pies, I know she keeps giving him crumbs." he said with fondness.

William kept his head down, allowing piece of blond hair to fall over his startled eyes as most of the sick feeling had passed, a numb feeling still remaining in his limbs "Look, six o'cock." John murmured, encouraging the shamed boy to glance up. Hesitantly, William lifted his gaze from the soft forest floor up towards the branches reaching for the sky. He was met with the glaring eyes of a curious bald eagle, it's golden eyes were guarded and slid over the soldiers briefly. “American Eagle.” It gave them one last glance before it opened its gigantic wings and rose into the air with a heavy beat of it's enormous wings. A dead squirrel hanging from its sharp talons as it disappeared from their sight.

John didn't ask if Will was feeling better or if he needed a drink of water or more time to rest. The truth was, he knew the younger boy had to toughen up. His twin hadn't, and he no longer walked on the grounds of the living. But until William was ready to face the demons in his mind, John would do everything in his power to keep them tamed.

He sighed, standing up as he felt the uncomfortable tingling in his legs, as if ants were running up and down his knees. "Come on, it's time to get up." he said lightly, giving Elliot a pointed stare that prevented him from making any comments on the matter. "Yeah, thanks." He stood up on shaky legs, stepping away from John whose curious green eyes rested on him. He didn't trust William on his own. In a way, he saw his twin brother in the younger man. The same protective feelings seemed to wash over him.

A sudden shot rang out, hitting Elliot right into the chest as the man went swirling through the air, landing a feet from where he had been standing earlier. John skidded to his knees after curling his fingers around Will's neck and pushing the boy lower to the ground.

Elliot's face turned ashen, panicked groans leaving his lips as he roamed his chest with his trembling fingers, trying to find the injury on his aching chest. He felt as though the blow had hit his heart and it was now sending waves of pain all over his body. John tried to keep his upper body down, ignoring the frantic muttering and almost sobs from the dark-eyed man on the ground. William looked, frozen on the spot next to an old pine tree as his breath hitched when the two froze.

"You lucky arse Elliot. You lucky son of a gun." John said with a laugh, raising the amulet with an iron cross higher. It had been damaged by the blow, the cross was crooked and had obviously gotten in between Elliot's heart and the bullet that was released to blow out the candle.

Another shot rang out, making them all duck before scrambling up and making run for it. John grabbed Williams shoulder roughly, pushing him in front of him as the three kept running for their lives. Another shot rang out, bruising a broken tree that Ellliot had just jumped over. William felt heat rise to his cheeks as he felt himself getting faster, but fear made him slow down. Fear of leaving others behind.

He could sense them leaving the band of German and Italian soldiers behind, they were probably satisfied enough of their deeds of this early afternoon. High with the knowledge they had killed hundreds within minutes, happy to have succeeded on their mission.

After another mile of running and quiet minutes without any bullets being aimed at them, Elliot staggered and leaned against a rock that was covered with moss. John gulped in a large amount of oxygen, brushing sweat from his dark brows as he pulled William behind the rock, even though the younger could tell they were safe for the moment. For the sake of John's sanity, Will stayed put, still feeling alert and buzz in his veins.

The forest around them had stilled. "Theres a camp with our men not far from here, Hoare... Hoare told me we were supposed to meet them on sunrise. I hope those who have survived will be heading there, they must have heard of the massacre going on. There are still miles to go, but if we keep going towards the alps, we will meet them." John said, roaming his gear for the small flask to satisfy his dry throat. He unclipped the helmet, pouring some water over his greasy curls before sliding his wet fingers over his tired face, leaving clean trails over the dirt and grime that caked his face.

He passed the flask on to Will, whose fingers curled around the cold object as he leaned against the rough surface of the rock that was taller than all of them. His mouth was dry and he was still breathing heavily, his calf muscles trembling from the heavy exercise. He placed it on his dry lips after sliding his tongue over them, tasting the salty sweat that covered his upper lip. He frowned, taking a gulp of the drink. He lowered the flask, looking around as he scrunched his nose. He smelt it, the bitter and irony taste in the air as it tickled his sense of smell, making him sneeze.

He knew that smell, as days passed he had gotten more and more used to it, but at this very moment, they were far away from all sorts of corpses. His sky blue eyes that seemed to grow more guarded with each sunrise, landed on Elliot who was slumped against the rock. His head was lulled back, dark eyes squeezed shut. His black hair that reached just a little above his ears was pushed back, revealing the grimace he often hid from the world. William's eyes landed on the unmistakable bloodied handprint on the rocky surface.

"How bad is it?" Will asked, thrusting the flask into John chest as the man sent him a confused glance. He opened his eyes, startled as he seemed to hide his right side even more from them. "I am fine, come on, we must keep on going like John said." he said, removing every trace of pain he had shown on his face before. William felt worry as he reached out for Elliot's hand that he was hiding from their view. He gave the dark eyed man a knowing look. Elliot let out a shuddering breath, unable to mask it any longer. Defeated, he shuffled on his feet, looking away as he turned slightly. John cursed, horrified at the soaked jacked Elliot was wearing. He kept his  hand pressed to his chest, hoping it would ease the pain in his shoulder and keep enough pressure on the wound and not bleed to death in the middle of the forest.

That was Elliot Mayers' biggest fear, die of small blood loss in no-ones land, leave his body to earth he did not mind. But leave his body in the middle of nowhere, he couldn't bear. He did not want his sisters and mother to bury an empty coffin. He knew they would forever wonder where his bones lay.

He realised John was pulling his hand away, ripping a piece of fabric from his shirt to cover the wound with. The angry British soldier cursed under his breath, pouring some moonshine on the wound after he had seated Elliot on the ground. The man hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as be felt his body getting weaker.

"You slow twat, look what you are doing, bleeding for arselings is not what you Americans do, understand, Mayers? No, you don't do that." he said, slapping Elliots face to get some color back onto his pale cheeks. "Get up, we will keep on going, okay? Here, drink some whiskey Will got for me couple of days back." he said through gritted teeth. Elliot glared and William played dumb, looking away as if it stopped Elliot from looking unimpressed.

He flinched as the drink ran down his throat, but in a way, it helped him a little. "Come on, up you get now you walrus. We get you into that camp and you'll be back to wanking in no time." he tried to lighten the mood, helping the wounded soldier up. He groaned, his hand around Johns shoulder as the younger soldier carefully wrapped his hand around Elliots torso, allowing him lean most of his weight on him. "Wrong-" Elliot gasped out, "-hand." he finished, taking another large gulp of whiskey that made his cheeks flame. John snorted, still looking concerned by the patch of dark brown blood on his clothes. "Also, a shoulder injury never stops a man." he said and Will knew the alcohol and blood loss had gotten to him. Elliot would never speak like that, but then again, war changes even the most innocent.

"You don't drink much do you." John said, trying to not show any discomfort on his face. Elliot shook his head, grimacing after he had drank some more. "First time actually." he muttered as they started heading towards the camp.

John stopped, turning around when he realized William was not moving. "You know, you'll grow roots if you keep standing there like that. " he said, tilting his head as he narrowed his apple green eyes, sensing that something was off.

John had always kept an eye on everyone he cared for, he couldn't restrain himself. He didn't want to lose anyone anymore. He didn't know if he was able to live if he lost anyone else. Too long he had been fighting, had grown attached too easily. It was as if his heart was crying out for someone to care. After losing his twin, he had kept the pain to himself, buried it deep down and always carried it with him, he deserved pain. But he also had to stop hurting himself. And only way to do that, was to look after his friends, family, his brothers.
Okay, they were uncultured, hot-headed Americans but still.

"I am going the other way." even Elliot snapped his head up at his steady voice, looking startled by the news. "What, did you get a blow to your head?" John's voice broke, uneasiness sweeping through as he allowed Elliot to lean back against the rock as he took two long strides to stand in front of William.

He had grown attached to Will. He had grown protective over him, and then the git dares the stand before him and threaten to leave, choose a different path, go the other way.

He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes as he tried to catch his eyes. "We went scouting with Theo, Hoares orders. I- we found a base, and I saw our people, John. Our soldiers, our friends, our family, our brothers." the last one seemed to squeeze Johns heart painfully, it was dripping blood, it had been for a long time.

"But you are my brother, my family. We go to the camp, and we get help, okay? We will help them, but Elliot needs our help, your help." he said with a tight voice, shaking the boy after dugging his trembling fingers into his shoulders. William raised his eyes, and they were cold like ice, they reminded John the frozen lakes back at home during the coldest winters. "It will be too late then, I know it will. Elliot has you, I will be fine. Hoare knew it, I know it." he stated as they seemed to hold a tense eye contact.

"No, are you out of your bloody mind?"

"I-I have to, John. I need to go."

"No, you are coming with us and that's final." Johns lips were in thin line, his thoughts running around wildly. At this point, he was sure he was starting to lose it. Had it been anyone else he might have reacted differently. But there was something about Will.

"No." Will growled out, making John grit his teeth. The boy had had a panic attack just minutes ago and there he was, pushing back with all his might. But John also knew he had no say in what Will did, and even if he tied him up and forced the boy to come along, he knew Will was also good at slipping away. Too good for someone his age.

"Okay...« John let out an angry sound between a growl and sob, his hands running up to Will's sandy hair, their foreheads touching as John's whole demanour changed. "Okay, listen here you little shite. The war is won by the last man standing. And this man will be you". He said, his voice growing stronger as he tensed even more. Realising how hopeless the situation was.

Will just nodded, gripping Johns shoulders, realizing it was calming down the screms in his head and the last traces of anxiety that still lingered in his chest. “You will go in, carefully, you will run if anything does not go according to your plan, you will not care for honor, nor anyone elses life. You come back, will go home as a hero that you already are.”

William nodded and Johns hands fell, roughly pulling the younger male into his chest, cradling the back of his head as Will buried his head into Johns sturdy chest, cherishing the piece of safety that he had missed. “Also, you still owe moonshine so you can't even get hurt a little on this self-sacrificing, stupid mission of yours.” Will snorted, “Of course.” he could feel the older mans shoulder drop, as if the weight of the world was all on him.

“Dum vivimus, vivamus, Thiefling.” he said into his hair, squeezing him even harder before releasing the younger boy from his firm grip. “No, come with us kid, you must.” Elliot slurred, face turning ashen. “Good luck and hang on Elliot.”

They parted and John gave him one last glance filled with desperation, anger and worry. His green eyes were worried, but he wasn't the only one.

“Dum vivimus, vivamus.”

It was time time to stand alone.

***
Okay, here it is. This was so hard to write for so many differed reasons.

Hope you still enjoyed it though.