This was going to be for Rememberance Day, but I was late. It's because we had to go to Seattle for my li'l bro's birthday, which is a day before the sad "holiday". n.n"
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
What is death?
It was a universal question, one we all asked at one point in our lives.
Maybe it was the first time your pet goldfish died, and you had to flush it down the toilet. You asked your mommy and daddy what would happen to it, and they told you it was in goldfish heaven.
Maybe it was when your grandpa died, and you asked your parents what death was like. They might've told you Grandpa was free now; free of old age, and was watching you from above.
Or maybe...you were like me. Well, in some ways at least.
The question came to me at an early age, when I was still young. All I had ever known was to cause destruction.
But then one day, the thought occurred to me that there could've been people who died in the destruction we caused. So I went up to my father figure, an old ape (I know, I know), and asked him what happened to those people who died.
He raised an eyebrow and looked irritated, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. "What kind of question―a stupid one too―is that?" he demanded sharply.
"I'm just wondering where people go after they die," I snapped back, equally as irritably. The words felt sharp on my tongue, as if I wasn't actually saying them. I felt like I was listening to the words on a scratchy old disc.
"Death is incomprehensible." His answer was tart. "And yet it is simple; easy; it takes no thought." Then he snorted. "Even someone as stupid as your brothers could understand."
I suddenly felt irritation within me. I was the only one allowed to call my brothers stupid. And if it was so easy, why didn't I understand it? "So what does it mean?"
"Death is the action of dying or being killed. It means to end the life of one person or organism; as in a living, breathing, growing, reproducing thing."
"But what does it mean to die?" I demanded irritably.
"Hmm..." He tapped a finger against his chin. "That is a broad, as in a very open to discussion; and very big topic. It is universal. No one knows what happens to the dead, for no dead person has ever come back and told us. Some people; who are idiots dare I say, believe in ghosts and ghouls as some form of afterlife and such wickedness. They say the Grim Reaper comes for your life. I, for one, don't."
I felt smug that I had managed to make the old monkey think about it, showing death wasn't such an understandable topic. However, I soon unfolded my arms and shivered, feeling cold.
...That made death a lot more scary.
"Or maybe we all go to heaven or hell." The old ape was already talking again, screwing a loose bolt in on his machine. "Evil is said to be punished in hell, while goodness is awarded in heaven, but I don't believe in such falseness either. A religion is stupid, and none of it makes sense in scientific terms. If God is so powerful, He could just stop all the villainy in the world."
I shuddered again. So my brothers and I would burn in hell while our goodie-two-shoes counterparts entered heaven? The thought was almost scarier than the afterlife.
"What about Him?" I suddenly asked.
He paused to look at me, appearing to think for a moment. "Him's...different. Some say he's a devil, or a demon, or even Satan himself. But who on earth knows with that guy?"
I shuddered. Him was already scary. Now he was ten times more scary.
"Some people say we are reborn as new people," he continued. "After all, Christianity isn't the only religion out there. I don't believe in that either, but let's let those stupid people believe in what they want."
"Mojo..." My voice was slow as I said the next line: "...Aren't you scared of dying?"
He turned to me and cocked his head to the side, before laughing. "Me? Afraid? Nah. I won't die anytime soon."
"How can you be so sure?" I could tell by his eyes he was somewhat afraid of dying.
His laughter died as he stared at me blankly. "Look, Brick. People fear the unknown. Maybe that's why you're starting to be scared of death. But you don't need to be afraid. I don't know how to say this. Don't be afraid of death, even when it stares you in the face."
We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In Flanders fields.
Mojo may have told me that all those years ago, but now that I was actually facing death in the eye, I felt myself fearing it all over again. I felt like I wasn't a brave soldier anymore, but a little boy.
Long ago, my brothers and I had stopped being villains. Mojo and Him turned sides too (Mojo earlier than Him―the possible incarnation of all evil himself), which set an example for other villains.
Crime slowed down in Townsville. My brothers and I ended up dating our counterparts; the ones I had mentioned earlier: "our goody-two-shoes counterparts".
However, our peacefulness didn't last long, as war soon started again. It wasn't a huge war, like any of the world wars, it was just war with a country that didn't agree with us. They were controlled by terrorists who the world had deemed not necessarily evil, but extremely unjust.
A few days ago one of my brothers was shot down. More than once.
It was my blond brother Boomer; the stupid idiot had raced onto battlefield and immediately been gunned down by the enemies on the other side.
Two of my brothers, Bandit and Blaster, immediately have him medical attention.
Butch, Braker, and I stood side by side as we gazed at Boomer, who was almost too weak to help heal himself.
As he lay in bed, he asked me with a bloody smile, "Who's the crybaby now?"
I didn't know who the crybaby was anymore. I felt like bawling my eyes out right then and there.
It hurt.
I vowed to fight even harder; to be an even better soldier.
But now that we were invading enemy territory and losing more and more of our men, my promise didn't seem so real anymore. Training had always been easy for me.
My brothers and I were known as Weapon X, because we had superpowers. We didn't need much medical attention, because our chemical X let us heal pretty quickly, but our opponents had quickly learned from their mistakes.
They had gotten their hands on plenty of Anti-Chemical X, and other weapons that could be used to destroy us. They clearly hated us for taking so many of their comrades down.
Once again, the thought entered my brain: Just what is death...?
Maybe I should just let myself die right then and there. The thought occurred to me as the fifth man or so that day keeled over. End all the suffering and pain. Just finally quit trying.
But then something―or rather, someone―popped into my mind.
...Blossom.
I remembered her smile, and her laugh. Her long red hair and her smooth skin, soft lips and gentle, unique pink eyes.
...What would she say if she found out that I had died?
And what about the unborn child in her stomach?
Would they grow up never knowing their father, and witnessing the terrible events of war? Or would they know a stepfather, one Blossom would marry after I die?
Maybe I was being selfish, but I decided I didn't want to die. Not yet. I had to press on.
Or maybe I was selfish for thinking about dying in the first place.
I was fighting for my country, wasn't I?
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
I closed in on the enemies, gunning and slashing down any man who dared to oppose me. Others fired bullets from afar, which I had to dodge.
Flying had been prohibited unless it was an emergency, and I was wearing a scarf. They didn't want the enemies being able to tell which of us had Chemical X right away, especially not after that mistake with Boomer.
It was especially hard for Braker, Blaster, Bandit and I, because all of our eyes were more "unique" in colour compared to Butch and Boomer. This made it easier for foes to recognize us.
Someone must have seen through my "disguise" though, because they fired an Anti-Chemical X gun at me.
One. Two. Three.
Dodged. Dodged. Dodged.
Four.
Dodge―
Suddenly, I felt that bullet slam into my hand, knocking the gun I was lifting out of my fingers. I gritted my teeth from the pain, trying to ignore the blood gushing down my fingers.
Another hit.
One grazed my shoulder, but the next two I managed to dodge. Then one hit my side, and another slammed into my knee.
...Shit.
Stumbling, I felt myself almost keel over, until I realized I wasn't falling anymore. I looked up in surprise to see Bandit grinning at me. Blaster was healing my wounds, while Butch and Braker fought off enemies in front and behind us.
Behind me, there was a slight pink and blue glow. For a moment, I thought I saw Blossom and Boomer. They were both smiling at me as they extended their hands.
I reached my bleeding hand out, and touched where their fingers were, before they disappeared.
Blaster sighed. "Brick, Brick! Careful; you're going to get blood in my hair! What are you doing, anyway?"
I snapped out of my unfocused gaze, turning to Blaster, and then Bandit. "Huh...? Oh, sorry about that."
"Hey, did you forget about us?" Bandit asked, steadying me.
I limped forward, feeling a smile spread on my face. "Nah, sorry guys. Guess I got a little clumsy."
"You don't say?" Blaster sighed, pressing his glowing yellow hands against my wounds.
"Leader Boy should try stepping it down!" Braker shot back.
"Yeah, I want some of the action too!" Butch shouted over his shoulder, slamming his gun into an enemy.
"Oh shut up, you two," I sighed, wincing.
Butch just shot me a grin and a thumbs-up, before shooting the enemies some bullets.
Braker followed with energy blasts, which led to Butch shooting laser beams at the opponents. It was clear neither cared much for hiding their powers.
When I felt ready to walk on my own, I stood up straighter and joined in the fight.
"You sure you're okay?" Blaster demanded, refusing to leave my side. He blasted down an enemy.
"Jesus; I said I'm fine." I kicked down another opponent. "Just relax."
Blaster shrugged. "Okay," he finally said. "But I'm going to accompany you."
"Suit yourself," I responded.
Blaster suddenly noticed more of the enemies approaching, and his eyes narrowed.
Uh-oh. He's going to go crazy, I realized.
"GET THE FUCKING HELL OUTTA MY FACE ALREADY! Can't you take a hint!?" he screamed, his hands glowing yellow. The light consumed them, forcing them back as explosions sounded along the ground. Blaster then pulled out some of his kunais, rapidly firing the silver blades.
I grinned. That's Blaster for you, alright.
Braker and Butch were back-to-back, Butch creating a green force field as Braker became a human juggernaut. He rolled into the enemies, knocking them over like bowling pins.
Bandit was now riding a bear made out of purple spiritual energy, with a real pack of wolves behind them. He had purple raccoon markings on his face as he slashed down his opponents.
I couldn't held but be filled with relief. They're okay. I'm okay. We were all going to be okay.
...And so was Boomer.
Then I could go home and finally say hello to Blossom again.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
After the war ended for a little bit or a long bit (who knows), we got to return back.
Boomer was mostly okay, and we were all sure he'd be okay under Bubbles' care.
Meanwhile, Butch had gone back to Buttercup, where he was greeted with "I-I didn't miss you that much". Butch only laughed as he spun her around.
Bunny was shy, but welcoming. Bandit approached her with a giant hug.
Banana told Blaster how stupid he could be by putting himself in so much danger all the time, but he cut her off with a kiss.
Braker simply let Bliss jump onto him, and both were clearly glad to see each other. She had tears in her eyes, before the two shared a kiss.
I simply smiled at the scene, before turning around. I was looking for―
―Her.
Standing off to the corner, smiling cutely as she waved, was the girl I was looking for. That familiar smile, and her laugh. Her long red hair and her smooth skin, soft lips and gentle, unique pink eyes.
Hurrying over to her, I caught her by surprise when I pulled her into a giant hug. Digging my face into her hair, I murmured, "I missed you."
She looked surprised, before smiling and patting me on the back. "I missed you too. I'm glad you've come back safely."
Pulling back, I shared a kiss with her.
Fireworks off in my head. A racing heart.
...I had missed this feeling.
When the kiss was broken, I stared into her eyes. "...How have you and the child been...?"
"Fine." She smiled, patting her stomach.
"You've got to be more than fine," I said, nuzzling her as I placed my rough hand against her petite one.
"Okay then; we've been more than fine." She giggled. "The baby's completely healthy, and while I'm a little stressed and have been missing you like crazy, we're both great. I love this kid, even though it's been driving me mad."
"That's awesome," I sighed in relief. I bent down. "Hear that, little guy? Mommy loves you."
"Hold on," she said with a playful smile, "who says it's a guy?"
I shrugged, grinning back at her cheekily. "I'd like to think it is, but y'know. 'Little Guy' can 'totally' mean more than one thing."
"That makes it sound like our baby could turn out to be an alien or a monster or something!" Blossom couldn't help but laugh.
I then leaned into her stomach, and heard a little kick. "Hey, look at that! The li'l guy's a kicker."
Blossom only laughed, pulling me upwards. "Get up, you," she said with a smile.
For a moment, comfortable silence draped itself over us.
Then Blossom sighed, taking my head as she leaned against me. "...I'm glad you're alive and okay, Brick. Maybe this is selfish of me, but I'm glad it wasn't you who got hurt so badly. While I don't want such a thing to happen to Boomer either, I don't know how I'd feel if you―"
"Shhh," I responded quietly, nuzzling my nose against hers. "It's all okay now."
She smiled, her lips brushing mine. "...I'm glad you're okay."
I only nodded, before pulling back and looking around us. "...Look at all these poppies," I whispered quietly.
Blossom nodded, reciting quietly: "In Flanders fields the poppies blow; Between the crosses, row on row."
"That mark our place; and in the sky; The larks, still bravely singing, fly," I continued.
"Scarce heard amid the guns below," we both said at the same time.
I bent down and picked one, gently placing it in her hair. Blossom plucked one as well, pinning it to my jacket.
We held hands, looking into each other's eyes.
"...You're okay," she whispered, a type of complicated emotion settling in. Tears appeared in her eyes.
"Shhh," I whispered as I wiped them away. "I swear I'll always come back."
"You better," she murmured, leaning in closer to me.
So this wasn't that serious, but the next fic to be uploaded will be more...dark...?
Anyway, I hoped you liked it! Please leave a review!