Alright you all know the heart breaking first story, My Brave Soldiers. Well, here's the second one. Bear with me once again as we go through yet another tear-jerker.

…

Maddox Paul di Angelo didn't want to go home. But he'd been released from duty. Most likely because he'd had a mental breakdown in the medical tent. No one would blame him for the fact though. But he blamed himself. Soldiers were supposed to be tough. He'd faced gunman and terrorists and everything else under the sun, but sitting in that tent had to be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He sucked in some breaths as he boarded the plane. He could believe he'd be leaving Patrick behind. But his brother told him to go home. Maybe seeing mom would help. Then again, maybe it wouldn't.

See, Maddox was in a very unique situation. The army had never experienced anything like it before, and they'd sent him packing. He would be called back in about five years, when everything was calmer. But Maddox wanted to stay in Israel, with Patrick. He didn't need a leave. He needed his brother.

The muscular nineteen year old gazed out of the airplane window at the glasslike Atlantic Ocean. There was something both calming and terrifying about it. He gripped his armrests and fingered his three dog tags. Patrick had given him his, and one for mom so he wouldn't worry too much. But mom would worry a lot. Actually, mom would probably cry. Maddox lifted Patrick's dog tag up and removed it from around his neck. He pressed the warm metal into his palm and closed his eyes. He was bone weary from having to travel on such short notice.

"Hey," a pretty blonde girl said, batting her eyelashes at Maddox. "Someone took my seat. Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Wordlessly, Maddox shook his head and patted the seat next to him. She slid in and shot him a dazzling smile. "My name's Caroline," she said. "What's your name?"

"Maddox," the muscular youth said. Caroline tilted her head thoughtfully.

"That's a strange name," she said. "I like it. So, you're a soldier?" Maddox grunted in reply and clutched his brother's dog tag tighter. How he wished Pat was with him right now. They were more than brothers, they were best friends. Leaving him in Israel had to be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. "What's that?" Caroline asked, motioning to the chain exposed above his fingers.

"My brother's dog tag," Maddox replied shortly. She was pretty, yes, but annoying. He didn't want to talk right now. He just wanted this nightmarish ride over with. He wanted to go home and hug and kiss his mother and thank God that he got to see him. He'd be praying to God a lot over the next five years. His mercy and His love would, hopefully, get him through this. Maddox leaned his head against the plastic window and closed his eyes. Poor Pat. He laughed at the thought. Poor him too.

Caroline didn't attempt to talk to the muscular youth again, which suited Maddox fine. He wasn't in a talking mood anyway. All he wanted to do what sulk and mope. He couldn't believe he'd been discharged from the army for five years. That was more than enough time. One year would've been suffice. But Lieutenant Collins told him that five should be enough to fully heal. It's not like he needed it or anything. The best thing for this would to be to get back out there and fight for his country. For his family.

…

Maddox felt at a loss when he reached his hometown airport. He didn't want to go to mom's apartment yet. Everything was still so fresh in his own mind. He chose to sit at the bar in the airport instead. He couldn't order a drink, so he just played with his coaster and willed away the images that flashed through his mind. He'd probably have PTSD after this, as well as a host of other diseases. The bartender popped the top off a new bottle of wine, and it sounded like gunfire. Maddox yelped and ducked under the bar, then sheepishly rose.

"Sorry," the bartender said with a slight wince. "I wasn't excepting a soldier to be sitting at the bar as I opened the wine." He set the bottle aside and leaned his arms on the bar. "So what's got you down?"

"Er," Maddox began awkwardly, twirling his brother's dog tag around in his hand. Not for the first time, he wished Pat was back in the states with him. Patrick was the twin who was good with people. "I guess I just miss my brother," Maddox finally mumbled, fumbling into his jacket pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. It was a print copy of the photo mom took on his and Patrick's send off. Pat had one arm slung around Maddox, and he grinned wickedly for the camera in their mom's hands. Maddox showed it to the bartender, who studied the photo intently. "Patrick, my brother, is the one of the left," Maddox said softly. "He's still in Israel."

"Why are you two separated?" the bartender asked, handing the paper back to Maddox, who tucked it back into his jacket's pocket. "You guys are obviously twins. Why would they ship one twin back and keep the other there?"

"It's…complicated," Maddox replied slowly. "Patrick doesn't have a choice. They're holding him there for the time being."

"So he will come back?" the bartender asked.

"…Yes." Maddox got up and left before he could burst into tears. He didn't want to talk about the twin he'd been forced to leave behind. He moved to sit on a bench outside of the airport. He could call mom any time and he'd be there, but he wanted to enjoy the crisp New York air for awhile. The sun was setting behind the skyline, and it bathed everything in pinks and oranges. Maddox fingered the bottom of his jacket. He didn't want it anymore. Being a soldier wasn't fun. Not that he ever expected it to be fun.

Sighing, Maddox moved from his place once again and hailed a cab. He didn't want to walk all the way to the subway, and he didn't want to call mom for a ride. He told the cabbie the address of mom's apartment and stared at the passing lights out of the window. They were all sorts of cheery neon, the opposite of how Maddox felt. He just wanted to go home and curl up with mom. Yet, he dreaded going home. Seeing mom would make this all seem real. He hoped he was just knocked into a coma in the medical tent and he'd wake up from this nightmare soon. Here he was with a discharge and Patrick was still in Israel.

Maddox debated throwing his dog tag out the taxi window. It was worthless. It was stupid. He didn't want it anymore. He wasn't a hero. He was a coward being discharged for a mental breakdown. He pulled on it until the chain snapped, and then he stared at it for the longest time. He lowered the window and held it out, watching the broken chain flap in the wind. Huh? That was a good metaphor for his life. He was a broken chain. Finally, he pulled the tag back in and put it in his pocket.

The muscular youth stepped out of the cab squinted at the building. Always a cheerful place, the building now looked dark and hostile, like one of the many enemies he'd had to face. He took a few tentative steps forward, then stopped. He couldn't do this. He couldn't face mom. But his feet carried him up to the apartment on their own accord, and his hand knocked on the door. There were some muffled thumps from inside and Percy threw open the door, blinking into the dim light of the hallway.

"Maddox?" he asked in astonishment. "Is that really you? Is it really my baby?" Maddox gave a forced grin and opened his arms. His mother plowed into him and then squeezed his middle until he couldn't breathe. "Oh my god it's my baby!" Percy cried, kissing his cheek. "Where's Patrick? He came home too, right?" Percy looked behind the muscular youth like his other son would be hiding behind him, waiting to surprise their mother. Maddox blinked away the tears and ushered his mom inside the apartment. "Maddox, where's Patrick?" Percy asked, all the excitement gone.

"He's still in Israel," Maddox said. That was at least the truth.

"Oh thank goodness!" Percy exclaimed, collapsing into the chair. "You were going to give me a heart attack Maddie. But if Pat is there, why are you here? You guys shouldn't be separated." He squinted at Maddox's neck. "And where's your dog tag?"

"I took it off," Maddox replied with a wave of his hand. "Mom…" he began, and he noticed Percy sat up straighter in the chair. "Mom," Maddox repeated. "Patrick won't be coming back to the states." Percy blinked at his son.

"Of course he is," Percy insisted. "You told me he was still in Israel. That silly Patrick, he always wanted to be the big hero. I remember…"

"Mom!" Maddox shouted, grabbing the brunette's shoulders. "Patrick won't come back because he's dead!" Anything Percy had been about to say died on his tongue as his son released him. "He was shot mom. He was losing blood so fast there was nothing they could do for him. I crawled into his bed with him and held him. He bled all over me, but I didn't care. I wept. I wept for him and I wept for you and I wept for me. But Patrick just laughed. He took my hand and told me it was going to be alright. He was going to go see dad." Maddox was bawling into his hands as he spoke. "He gave me his dog tags, all three of them, and told me to come home to you. He said he loves you and he can't wait to see you in Heaven. And he said he loved me and regretted leaving me behind. But he would rather it be him than me. That was the last thing he ever said to me mom. How am I supposed to take that? I'd rather it had been me!" Percy moved beside his remaining son and buried his face in his hair. Maddie's shoulders shook and he heaved great sobs, one after the other, into Percy's shoulder.

"Maddox sweetie," Percy said, stroking back his son's buzzed hair. It was starting to grow back a bit. He had the dark hair of his father. "I'm so glad your home."

"But at what cost?" Maddox asked, clearly anguished. "My brother, my best friend, is dead. He died the same way dad died, being shot. Mom, if I could trade places with him, I would. In a heartbeat. It shouldn't have happened to him. The gunman was just shooting at random. Hell, he even hit his own people. But Patrick dove in front of one of our comrades and he got a bullet in the chest. He died a hero, but at what cost? I'm nothing without Patrick."

"Maddox," Percy said, his fears growing. His son was torn by this. He felt if something wasn't done, he would lose his other son as well. "Maddox it's okay. Patrick died doing what he loved. Defending his country and his family."

"But at what costs!" Maddox screamed, shoving Percy off him. "Mom, it should've been me. I should've been hit. Patrick dove in front of me!" He buried his face in his hands and burst into fresh tears. "Patrick would still be alive if I'd taken the bullet."

"Patrick would've then asked the gunman to shoot him too," Percy replied. "You know how much your brother loved you. He wouldn't want to go on without you."

"I don't want to go on without him," Maddox muttered. "I can't go on without Patrick." Percy's sea-green eyes widened. Maddox couldn't be serious. Percy couldn't lose his other son too. He would die of a broken heart. He couldn't lose Maddox. Maddox was the only part of Nico and Patrick he still had. "Where are we going?" Maddox huffed as Percy dragged him down the hall.

"To see grandma and grandpa," Percy said. "You talk to them. I'm talking to Rachel." He left Maddox to knock on the door of his parents' apartment, and he backtracked to Rachel's. He let himself in with the key and sat down on her couch. She came out of the back room and took one look at him. She then knelt in front of him. "Patrick's dead," he said simply. The redhead gasped.

"No!" she said. "Not little Patrick!" Percy nodded and bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut. First his husband. Now his son. How many more of his family was he going to lose before it was finally enough? He was still thankful God brought Maddie back home, safe and sound. If he lost both sons in that accident, he'd shoot himself. Or hang himself. There'd be no point.

"Yes, little Patrick," the brunette responded at last. "Maddie held him as he slowly bled to death after being shot. At first, he told me Pat dove in front of one of their comrades. But then he confessed and told me Pat dove in front of him. Patrick saved Maddox's life." Rachel listened quietly as Percy retold the tale of Patrick's heroism and Maddox's slow downward spiral. "He says he would trade places with Patrick in a heartbeat if he could. He also told me he didn't want to continue without Patrick. He couldn't continue without Patrick. Rach, that scares me to death. What if he tries to off himself? I wouldn't be able to take it if I lost Maddie too." Percy leaned his head on Rachel's shoulder as the redhead wrapped her arms around him. "I can't lose Maddie. But I can't take him to the doctor. He'd hate me for life."

"Just go with your gut instincts Perce," the redhead replied. *If you think Maddie needs help, get him some. It's better to act now rather than later, because later might be too late to do anything." Percy sucked in a breath, held in his cheeks, and slowly puffed it out. He nodded.

"You're right Rach," he said at last. "I'd better go see how Maddie's doing." Percy left, thanking Rachel for listening to him and giving her input. He slunk back down to his mom and stepfather's apartment. The scene that greeted him melted his heart. Paul was at one end of the couch, and Sally was at the other end. Maddie's head was in Sally's lap, and he seemed to be sleeping. There was the precious little boy Percy hoped he hadn't already lost.

…

It was The Day. The day of Patrick's funeral. Maddox found himself back at the same church from fourteen years ago, a church he swear he'd never step foot in again. He left his uniform at home. He didn't want to wear it to his brother's funeral, even if his brother would've wanted it. His freshly pressed purple shirt and black dress pants were enough. Patrick's favorite color was purple. Maddie was going to wear it as often as he could after this. Somehow. He waited while mom mourned the loss of his son, then he took his place. Everyone stayed away as Maddox made his way up to the casket. No one wanted to interrupt the sibling. Maddox peered closely at his brother. He looked like Patrick, but he didn't look like Patrick too. This Patrick looked older, with a little orange tint. His hands were folded over his plastic chest, and between his palms was a purple rose. Maddox picked it up the day before and placed it with him. Purple. A hero like Patrick deserved purple.

"Oh Pat," Maddox whispered, gripping the edge of the casket. "Patrick, please come back. Please. You can't leave me. If you're playing a joke, I won't care. I'll just be happy it's over. Pretty please. Wake up for me." But Patrick didn't do anything. He laid there still, slightly smiling in a peaceful way. "Damn you Patrick! Why'd you do it? It should've been me!" Percy ushered Maddox away before the older twin could do something to the younger twin. "Mom, I'm fine," Maddox said, shrugging Percy off. "I'm okay." Maddox listening to the stupid army march playing over the speakers. He loathed that song. If it wasn't for the army, Patrick would still be alive.

Maddox didn't go to the cemetery after the service, and no one tried to force him. Instead, he walked to the East River. His mom had fixed his dog tag chain for him, but he snapped it again as he yanked it off. Then he threw it, as far as he could, into the river. He wasn't a hero. He didn't deserve to be in the army. He should've known. Patrick was the one with all the goals and all the dreams. Maddox simply wanted to do whatever he did. If Maddox hadn't enlisted with him, maybe he'd still be alive. Maddox was a coward. Patrick was a hero. That was how it always was, and it would remain that way forever and ever now.

"Damn you Patrick!" Maddox cried, sinking to his knees. "You should've let the stupid gunman shoot me. It should be me being buried in the earth and you comforting mom and all our family. You were always better at it than I was." Tears ran down his cheeks and splashed onto the sidewalk. "How can there be Maddie without Patrick? How could there be me without you? We've never been apart before Pat. Now, I'll never be close to you again. I don't want there to be just Maddie. I want Maddie and Pat, the dynamic duo. Mom's brave soldiers. Dad's pride and joy. I can't be me without you."

Maddox didn't want to face the hordes of people at his apartment, so he booked himself a cheap motel room for the night. He was surprised to find that there was a fully stocked mini bar in his room. The fridge was unlocked. He stooped down to peer into it. He pulled out a shot bottle of whiskey. It was time to drink away the pain.

"Here's to me without you," Maddox said glumly to the air. "Cheers." He drained it. Then seven more. Then eleven shots of vodka and coke. He was wasted as he stumbled into bed. At least the pain was gone. The pain was unbearable. He couldn't live with the pain of knowing Patrick died because he dove in front of a bullet for his brother. It should've been him. Patrick should still be alive. Maddox should be sober.

…

"And how do you feel?" the shrink asked Maddox. The not-so-muscular youth was lying on a brown cot, staring emptily at the ceiling. Today marked the one year anniversary of Patrick's death. Maddie had taken a turn for the worse. He lost about a hundred pounds, so know he was about one thirty. He was sickly pale and constantly had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in days (and sometimes he hadn't). He wore long sleeves to cover up the cuts on his wrists. He couldn't off himself, at least not yet. And drinking lost its appeal after mom found out about it. So now, the youth cut his wrists so he didn't have to feel the pain of Patrick's death.

"I feel like someone took away my best friend," Maddox finally retorted. "What do you think I feel like, kittens and rainbows?" Maddox rubbed the puckered cuts on his wrist with his thumb. He couldn't wait to get out of here. "I miss Patrick so much. Missing dad was never this bad. Why was it not this bad?" It was true. He missed his father, sure, but that was nothing compared to the pain of losing his twin.

"I think it has to deal with your age," the shrink replied. "You were four when you lost your father. You don't remember all the details. Patrick died a year ago. It's still fresh in your mind. You feel the pain every day. Especially since you insist it should've been you." What he said made some sort of twisted sense. But still, it wasn't what Maddox wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that was crazy and suffering from PTSD or something. Actually, he knew he was suffering from PTSD. The multitude of doctors his mom hired confirmed that. For months afterward, Maddox wouldn't sleep because the nightmares were too much. Even during the day, the graphic images made it hard to concentrate on anything. Maddox wished he hadn't thrown his dog tag into the East River. At least then he'd have something. He called Lieutenant Collins. Maddox wouldn't be returning to active duty. Maddox was discharged for life.

"Thanks," Maddox mumbled, rising. His half hour was up. He did this five times a week. His mother insisted on it. Persistent bastard. Maddox sauntered out onto the street. Why the hell was he doing this anyway? This wasn't helping. A year later and the pain of Patrick's death was as sharp as the day he died in Maddox's arms. Maddie wandered the streets and found himself on the Brooklyn Bridge. The river gleamed cheerfully below, beckoning him. He moved toward the edge of the bridge staring down at the water. He bunched his muscles, said a quick prayer, and prepared to jump.

Don't, a voice in his head said, causing him to freeze. Don't Maddie. It's not worth it. You still have mom to think about.

"Patrick?" Maddox asked, stepping back. "Patrick?"

Yes brother, the voice whispered again, calming his jangled nerves. It's me. I know you miss me and you often wish it would've been you to take the bullet, but I wouldn't allow that. Mom can't lose you too Maddie. He would fall apart without you in his life.

"But Patrick, I can't go on without you," Maddox whispered, stepping further away from the edge. He couldn't believe he'd almost taken his own life. "I can't be Maddie without Pat. I can't be me without you."

I'm sorry Maddie, Patrick's voice said. I really am. But I can't think of a better way to die. I protected my older brother. How often could I say that? I don't regret what I did. Please don't regret it for me. Suddenly, Maddie felt arms around his waist and a kiss on his forehead. The sensation was gone faster than it came, but if left him feeling calmer than he had in months. Somehow, knowing Patrick didn't regret what he did gave him a sense of peace.

…

"Are you sure you don't want to go back into the army?" Percy asked his son as the fifth year after Patrick's death came around. Shortly what happened on Brooklyn Bridge, Maddie called Percy in tears, saying he almost ended his life, but Patrick had once again saved him. He allowed himself to be taken to a healing facility, where he underwent intense therapy. Two years later, Maddie came out feeling better than he had since he was four. Maddox smiled at his mother and kissed his cheek.

"I'm very sure mommy," he said. "I think college was always the path I was meant to take. I'm going to study history and become a professor. Won't that be exciting?"

"As long as you're happy son," Percy said. "Patrick would be proud of you Maddox. Nico too." Maddox teared up and looked down, letting his dark hair flop into his eyes. Over the years he'd grown it out from its buzz cut to a shaggy mop of dark curls, much like how his father's looked when he was Maddox's age.

"I hope they can forgive me for not wanting to be heroes like them. But I feel like I'll be serving my country in a different way. By giving people knowledge, rather than holding a gun in my hand. I don't think I was ever cut out to be a hero." Percy wrapped his arms around his son.

"Don't say that Maddie," he scolded. "You're a hero too. You've fought through all the pain and loss and you've come out on top. Not many people can do that."

"I almost gave up though," Maddox replied quietly. "I couldn't take another day without Patrick. But now, I…I think I can. I think I can finally manage on my own. I still don't want to be Maddie without Pat, but I think I'll be okay."

~Maddie's Own Family Life~

"Mommy! Mommy!" PJ cried, jumping into Maddox's arms. Mikhail followed behind at a slower pace, and Maddox's husband, Linkin, came in last, smiling and pecking the dark-haired male's cheek. "Ewww daddy, that's gross," PJ said with a giggle.

"Patrick Marshal Severin Jr, you be nice to your father. He works hard and if he wants to kiss mommy at the end of the day, he can." His son Patrick was to ensure that his twin would live on. And now Pat had a new twin of his own. Mikhail Perseus, after Maddox's loving mother. Linkin readily agreed when Maddox asked if he could name their adopted baby boys that. He knew all about Maddox's failed tour of duty and his deceased twin. But he loved Maddox anyway. He never cared about his past. He supported him no matter what. That's why Maddox loved Linkin so much.

"Hey mom, what's this?" Mikhail asked. He tugged the dog tags out from under Maddox's thin t-shirt. "It's what doggies wear!"

"And soldiers," Maddox said. "They're Grandpa Nico and Uncle Patrick's dog tags. Remember them?" Both his sons nodded, wide-eyed. They'd heard stories of their dead grandpa and uncle.

"We'll meet them in Heaven, right?" PJ asked, gazing up at his mommy with big blue eyes. Maddox chuckled.

"Of course baby," he said. "Hey Link, do you think you and the boys could give me a minute alone?" Linkin nodded and led the boys up to their room. Maddox pulled out his yellowed paper picture of his brother, running his hands over it. "Hey Pat," he said softly. "I really hope you like Pat Junior. I couldn't name him anything else. Dark hair and sea-green eyes. He looks just like you. Their fifth birthday is coming up soon. It's time to initiate the tradition of donating money to the Fallen Patriot Fund. They're so excited. They've waited for this for two years now." Maddox chuckled lowly. "I can't believe I'm being me without you. Maddie without Pat. I never thought I'd say that." He heard Patrick's laugh and felt his arms around him once again. His presence filled the room for the briefest time and was gone. But Maddox knew he was watching over him. Someday, he'd see Patrick and his dad again. Then they'd get to meet Mike and Pat Junior. He couldn't wait to be reunited with his family. "I'm going to miss you Patrick Marshal di Angelo. I didn't think I'd ever be me without you, but here I am, doing just that."

"Mommy!" PJ said, crawling onto his lap. "Do you miss Uncle Patrick?"

"Of course sweetie," Maddox said. "But mommy has a different Patrick now. You." He poked his son's belly, and he giggled. "You'll meet Patrick someday honey. Just be patient, my brave little soldier."

…

This one is considerably shorter, but sometimes sequels are. I hope it ended happier than the last one. Sorry for all the tears and heartache.