Title: Fratello di Lotta di Fratello
Rating: PG for Violence, just to be on the safe side...
Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH!! Also a bit AU...
Comments: Public or private... Please criticize privately
The field was empty. The sun was just barely shinning under the rolling hills. Spring flowers were in bloom among the blades of grass, giving a cheery feel to the battlefield.
Joe Cartwright scanned the horizon. He knew the enemy was hiding just out of view. He sat down in the grass with a sigh. The charge would begin soon.
He rested his back against a nearby tree. Closing his eyes for a few moments he thought of the battles he had seen in the few months that he had been a soldier. His beliefs were only strengthened by his confederate comrades surrounding him. Yet he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and regret for leaving on such bad terms with his family.
"Men!" he heard a yell. Captain Stowell, his commanding officer was a man with a presence that demanded attention. Standing over six feet tall and with a build that suggested he was accustomed to hard labor, Joe had always felt awed in his presence.
The men of the company stood, all gathering around their commander's horse in the cover of the trees. "Our scouts have returned. We are about to move soon. The Union Army is planning a sneak attack, but we'll show them. The first division will swing around to draw attention from our cover here while the remaining forces will charge. To victory!"
The Men roared in agreement. Joe cocked his rifle and took his place. Excitement began to release butterflies into his stomach. Anticipation made him fidget. He was ready for battle.
He watched as the first division moved out towards the west. Other soldiers began to file into position with their weapons at the ready.
They heard the sound of rifle shots and yells before too long. The Captain called for the men to start moving.
Joe marched, one foot in front of the other, just as he had been taught with his eyes straight ahead and his rifle resting on his shoulder. The men beside him exactly the same way each ready for the fight ahead.
Suddenly a wave of blue soldiers came rushing up to meet them. Joe aimed his rifle and shot, not knowing if he hit his target. The confederates began to split apart to take on the enemy. Joe moved to the right, taking cover behind a large tree. He reloaded his rifle and took aim. This time he saw a blue uniform fall to the ground.
He reloaded again, aiming for another uniform. Men were falling to the ground from both sides. He fired again but instead of reloading his rifle he dashed out from his hiding spot. Running towards the first blue uniform he saw he brought his rifle up and began fighting with it. He hit everything and everything that he could to try and break away from the stream of forever coming soldiers.
After what seemed like an eternity, the fighting began to die down. The Union army began to retreat in hast. A weight lifted from Joe's shoulders. They had won this battle.
"Men!" Captain Stowell yelled. "Find out the wounded. I want no prisoners. We won't have enough rations for the dirty scoundrels and ourselves. Shoot on sight!"
Joe took out his pistol from the holster. He checked the rounds before beginning to walk around the bloodied field. He shuddered with the sight of the carnage all around him. Only a few hours before a feeling of peace had guarded this field.
Within a few moments, Joe found a man lying face down on the ground. His back heaved with breaths from exhaustion and pain. He looked down and saw a river of blood flowing from a wound just above his knee.
"In the name of the Confederate Army, I have been instructed to take no prisoners." Joe swallowed. He never liked this part of battle and he knew he would never be able to harden himself to it. He cocked his pistol and aimed it at the back of the man's head.
"I understand." The soldier said quietly. He rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. The hazel eyes that stared back at Joe made his breath catch in his throat.
"Adam..."
He saw the familiar smile. "Hello, brother. Fancy meeting you here?" His voice was calm and even, just like Joe remembered from his childhood.
"W-What are you doing here?" Joe stuttered. His eyes grew wide and his pistol remained fixed on his brother's forehead.
"The same as you, Little Brother. Fighting for what I believe in." Adam replied. He winced slightly as he tried to flex his injured leg. "Seems I didn't do a very good job of it now, did I?"
"But... Why aren't you home with Pa and Hoss?"
"Do you think you're the only one with beliefs and ideals? The only one with a right to fight for what they think to be right? I left soon after you did. I couldn't stand it any longer. I could tell Pa and Hoss thought I drove you away. I didn't mean to, Little Brother. I truthfully didn't want you to leave."
He heard a yell from on of his fellow soldiers. "Cartwright! What are you waiting for! Shoot the Bastard!" Joe swallowed hard.
Adam's eyes fell to the ground. "I understand, Joe. Do it."
Joe felt his eyes burning with tears. Memories began rushing back to his mind. Comfort after a nightmare, special fishing trips, snowball fights in the yard, horseback riding and survival lessons from his youth. How could he pull the trigger on his own blood? He shook his head violently, the tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "No." He mumbled. "No, I can't!"
"Joe. You have to obey. Do it." Adam let out a deep breath of air before moving forward. As gently as he could he brought himself up to stand on his knees. "Take care of Sport for me, would you?"
Joe's tears became sobs. "No, Adam! I won't do it!"
"Yes you will, Joe." Adam narrowed his gaze. "It doesn't make any difference, Joe. Either you pull that trigger or someone else will. I'd rather that it be you. I know it wouldn't be done out of hate."
Joe fell to his own knees, still pointing the gun at his brother. "B-but Adam! I- I can't-"
"You can, Joe. Please do this for me. Please... Tell Pa and Hoss... I'm sorry... and that I love them." He grabbed Joe and drew him close to his body. He stroked the back of Joe's head with his hand, like he had done so many times before to quiet the boy's fears. "Don't blame yourself. Please don't. I forgive you, Little Joe." He whispered in his ear. "Don't forget that I love you too, Little Brother. I always will."
Adam rested his forehead on his young brother's. He looked into the green eyes full of tears and sorrow. He smiled bravely for Joe and quietly grabbed his brother's hand. He raised the pistol to his temple, pointing it away from Joe and pulled the trigger.