Going to war was all Mikey could think about the next day. Every time he thought he was done overthinking all of the possibilities, another one popped into his head. How would he explain himself to Gerard if he ever saw him again? What would he do once he got back? Could he see Lindsey again after coming back?
He thought until he had exhausted every option, analyzed every possible outcome. He had a piece of paper in front of him detailing what could come of every single possibility. None of them gave him a surefire answer as to whether or not he should go, but the more he thought about it, the more okay with leaving he became.
He gave the sheet of paper one more look-over, reading his own notes, not even knowing what he was thinking of when he wrote down some of them, before standing up. He examined the wall for a moment while he thought some more. If he told Lindsey he was going to go, she would give him a couple of days to say goodbye and everything, right? Probably. He tore his eyes away from the suddenly very interesting wall and headed to search for her.
He found her in her bedroom, sitting on her bed and writing in a notebook. He knocked on the doorframe to let her invite him in, since her door was already open. She looked up at the sound, and he felt a little twinge of disappointment when her face didn't light up like it did when she used to see him. He dismissed it, though, he didn't smile either when he saw her. They both had other things on their minds.
"Come in," she told him, sliding over to let him sit next to her on the bed. He sat down, she looked into his eyes, and he could see the frustration in hers. This was not a good time for her.
"I just wanted to tell you that I've decided that I'm going to volunteer to fight. In the war," he spoke softly. Lindsey's expression eased a bit and she relaxed.
"Thank you," she said gratefully. "Seriously, Michael, that helps us a ton. But I'm going to miss you, though," she added. Mikey shrugged.
"I'm not doing much nowadays," he dismissed.
"None of us are. it always feels like we're doing so much and nothing at all at the same time," she noted, sighing. 'I really hate that you have to go but we really need the money. You're really helping us out."
"I know. And I know I won't have enough money to send you letters but I promise if I get back I'll have a million stories to tell you and everybody else and everything will be fine since I'll have my citizenship and we can... I don't know, I'll enter chess competitions and become a chess god and beat you every time you try to challenge me." Lindsey laughed at that, and it felt so good to make somebody laugh again that Mikey couldn't help but laugh with her, trying not to think about the 'if' that was included in what he said.
Of course he'll come back. He couldn't not come back.
-
Pete was missing Mikey to the point of annoyance. He was actually annoyed with how much he missed him. And he was annoyed with how much he meant to him.
Gerard was helpful with that, though. He was similar enough to Mikey that sometimes Pete could pretend it was him he was talking to, but he knew that wasn't the healthiest thing to do. He liked Gerard himself, too, though. They even hung out outside of their everyday meeting every once in a while. They were both being paid by Flasch for their work, so Gerard didn't have to worry about making a living outside of the work he was already doing. He had moved into Mikey's bedroom since his bed was much more comfortable and it just wasn't practical to be sleeping in the living room when there was a bedroom he could use. He didn't get rid of any of Mikey's stuff, though, he wasn't quite prepared to do that. And besides, what if Mikey came back? It would be useful to have those things still in the house in case that ever happened, or at least that was Gerard's reasoning.
Gerard crashed at Pete's apartment sometimes when Mikey's absence got to be too overwhelming to live in his apartment. Pete was amazing at talking about Mikey. He understood how Gerard felt, even when he used analogies that didn't make sense. They could talk about other things, too, and it didn't feel like they were ignoring an elephant in the room. They had lives outside of missing Mikey, and that was something that was hard to remember sometimes.
Pete was too into Mikey, though, he realized, for it to be purely platonic. This occurred to him when he was talking with Gerard over a huge pizza about drinking. He remembered how good Mikey looked when they went out for drinks, with eyeliner on and his jeans sitting on his hips in just the right way.
"You know I'm into him, right?" Pete said casually after Gerard said that he didn't like the person he became when he drank or something, Pete didn't quite register it. Gerard took another bite out of the crust he was eating.
"Ew," Gerard said, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I kinda figured."
"You gonna get all big brother-y? Tell me I better not break his heart? Although I guess that would be pretty hard for me to do, considering," Pete theorized.
"Yeah," Gerard agreed. "Though he's probably into you too, if the way he acted that night we went out was enough to tell by. Then again, I don't really know how he acts when he's into someone, so he could just have been acting like he does with all his friends. He hasn't been a relationship ever, that I know of." Pete nodded, and they went back to talking about the ethics of alcohol consumption.
-
Mikey spent his last days of relative freedom doing everything he wanted to get done before he left - mainly sorting out his thoughts and ideas and what he wanted to be known before he left. He wrote down the rules to chess in a paper he would bring with him as well as a few tips and tricks he learned. He wasn't allowed to pack much at all, he had been told, but all he would really need would be souvenirs from home and he didn't really need reminders of a place he had been living in for less than two months.
Finally, the day upon which he was determined to leave, came. He had his small booklet of notes in hand and Lindsey at his side. The mayor wasn't able to be there but sent his gratitude to Mikey for what he was about to do. He and Lindsey drove to the enlistment office, which was about an hour away, in relative silence. Every once in a while she would mention something on her mind and Mikey would listen, trying to memorize every detail of her voice and personality. He didn't know when he'd be seeing her again.
When they got there, Lindsey offered to go inside with him. He politely refused, saying that she would probably be wasting her time that she could be spending on something else. She smiled and climbed back into the car. Mikey watched her drive away, trying not to cry. Then he turned around to face the office. It was fairly small and probably held about a dozen employees, maximum. He walked inside, pushing open the door to reveal an entry room with a front desk. There was a man a few years older than Mikey sitting in what appeared to be a waiting area, twiddling his thumbs. He looked stressed. Mikey tried sending him a quick smile when they made eye contact, but he didn't return it. Mikey frowned and turned towards the woman at the front desk. He cleared his throat.
"I'm here to enlist," he announced.
"Alrighty," the woman said cheerily. "And your name is...?"
"Michael," he answered, then added "James Way."
"Can you spell that, just to be sure?" She asked, and he complied.
"Do you have any identification?" She inquired once he was done, copying this down on a paper on her desk.
"No, I'm not a registered immigrant," he explained. She nodded, checking a box. Then she looked up at him and smiled.
"Now just go down that hallway," she pointed with a pen that was in her hand, "You'll meet with a recruiter. Give this paper to him," she passed him the paper she had been writing on, "And good luck!"
He waved his hand as a thank you and took the paper. He went down the hallway like she instructed and opened the door to the left. A middle-aged, tough-looking man sat at a table in the center of the room, though he wasn't facing Mikey as he was organizing his papers. Mikey cleared his throat so he would look up. When he did, he waved slightly, silently asking for permission to come in.
"Come in, boy, don't be shy," the man spoke in his loud, booming voice. Mikey gave him a smile in appreciation and took a seat opposite him, putting the paper on the desk. "Let me see here..." the man muttered as he took it and looked it over. He read it, looking confused and then nodding every once in a while. After he was done, he looked back up to make eye contact with Mikey. "So, Miachel. I'll be your recruiter today. We'll discuss your enlistment a bit, then you'll have a physical exam, then we'll find the job the best for you, and then you'll take an oath of enlistment. This will probably take..." he looked at the clock. It was eleven in the morning, "This will probably take until five tonight. Now judging from this form, I take it you'll want to start your training as soon as possible?" Mikey nodded. "Alight," he said, writing on a notepad. "So you're going to be fighting because of the Accessions in the National Interest. What that means it since you're not exactly here legally, you can participate in the war and when you come back you'll be a documented citizen and you'll be free to go." Mikey nodded. "Now, this may have an effect on how much your family is paid, but I don't see that as much of a problem since it's being sent to Ballato."
"How much of an effect are we talking?" Mikey asked. The whole reason he was in this situation was because they needed money, he didn't want them to be getting less than they were promised.
"Maybe a deduction of twenty dollars a month, if you're unlucky," the man explained. Mikey supposed that wasn't so bad, but then again, he wasn't certain exactly how much twenty dollars could get you in this time.
They went over things like that for a bit and even discussed what branch Mikey wanted to go into - it was the army, since it required the most soldiers and the least background knowledge, before he was sent to the waiting room again to wait for a doctor to preform his physical.
The guy he had seen waiting before was no longer there, to Mikey's relief. Thankfully it wasn't that much of a wait before a doctor was sticking his head out to see if there was anybody waiting or if he could take his lunch break. He waved Mikey in, and Mikey got up and walked into the room. It was fairly small, though it only needed to preform a handful of functions. He was weighed and measured, though he clearly was above the height required. As it turned out, though, he was only a pound over the minimum weight. The doctor laughed when he saw the result on the scale and told him he was lucky. Mikey grimaced. Now that it was happening, he didn't exactly consider himself lucky to be in this situation.
He also had to confess if he had ever had any of a list of diseases, most of which had been eradicated in Mikey's time. Since he had no medical history, the doctor just had to take his word for it. They went over his health risks (which were next to none, the doctor was impressed), and then he was sent back to his recruiter, whose name was apparently Andrew, according to the doctor. He found it a little odd that he only learned this now, but he supposed it just never was relevant.
When he returned to the office, Andrew had gotten out a few more papers having to do with the different branches of military. He sat down in front of the one for the Army, noticing that Andrew had made a couple of notes in the margins of the paper.
"So I passed the physical exam," Mikey explained, "I'm exactly a pound over the minimum weight."
"Thant's great," Andrew nodded, "I was honestly a little worried you wouldn't pass the minimum."
"Why wouldn't they just do the physical first?" Mikey wondered. "You know, so they could turn away the people who don't pass the requirements as soon as possible."
"We want to weed out the people who aren't old enough first," Andrew admitted. "Too many young men show up, far more than sick people." Mikey nodded. He supposed that made sense. "Anyways, now we're supposed to be choosing your branch, but I think you're already settled on the Army," he started. "However, I have to tell you a little bit about the others, too." He went on to explain the different branches and what they did, which Mikey didn't pay that much attention to. He was certain on joining the army, since he wanted to be getting as much money as possible for Lindsey and her people.
"Yeah, I think the army is the best for me," Mikey said at the end.
"Alright, then. You have to take your Oath of Enlistment at the end of the week with the other enlistees, so for now, you'll be staying with us until then. After your enlistment is complete, you'll board a train Camp Wood. That'll be your training camp for the next few months, until they deem you ready to go fight. During this time you'll probably want to get acquainted with your fellow soldiers, as you'll need a good team to not get yourself killed. I'm sure they'll tell you all of this later, but really, they cannot stress how important it is that you trust each other," Andrew looked serious. Mikey made a note of this for later. "Anyways, here are your papers. You can go over them. Ask the receptionist for a room in the pre-enlistment building, she'll give you a key."
"So I just stay in that building until Friday?" Mikey asked. It was Wednesday, not too far away from Friday, but it still seemed a bit... low energy.
"Well, there are things to do, like reading or playing chess-" Mikey's eyes lit up.
"Chess?"
"Yes, chess," Andrew confirmed, looking confused at Mikey's excitement.
"It's my favourite, I've been playing it since I came here a month or two ago," Mikey blushed. Andrew nodded, smiling from the corner of his mouth at him.
"Well, you'll have plenty of time to play it this week. I think they hold tournaments for the trainees at Camp Wood, too."
"Awesome," Mikey said, giving him a thumbs up before standing up. Andrew stood up too, and shook his hand. Mikey uttered a dubiously appropriate 'thank you' before going out the door with his papers and getting a key and directions to the right building from the receptionist.
His room was small, though he was lucky to have one to himself. All it had was a bed, but there was a common room with a kitchen and bookshelves and, as promised, a chess table. He looked through the bookshelf, not seeing anything that caught his eye, before going to the chess table. The pieces were of a much lower quality than the ones Lindsey had, but he didn't mind the chipped plastic. They were a lot lighter, too. He tried juggling them but they were too irregularly shaped. He wasn't in the mood to play chess at the moment, especially knowing that he would have way too much time to play the next day, so he took a book from the bookshelf and brought it to his room. Unfortunately, it was way less interesting than he anticipated, and he ended up falling asleep with it resting on his face.
-
The next day, he was woken up by a loud banging in the hallway, followed by a shout of some word he was still too asleep to recognize. He groaned and moved the book off his face. He was really fucking hungry. He laid in bed for a few minutes before his hunger got the best of him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and making his way to the common room.
The smell of pancakes greeted him as he entered the room. There were several other men in the place, as well as a woman serving the pancakes. Mikey took his place in the line for the plates of pancakes.
"Cheer up, boys, enlistment's tomorrow," she said, noticing the downcast mood of the men. The one in front of Mikey grumbled in acknowledgement, to which Mikey chuckled.
He made conversation with a few of the others over breakfast. One of them brought up how hard training was going to be, then another accused him of not being grateful for their opportunity to defend their country, and after that, Mikey ate his pancakes in silence, ignoring the shitstorm going on behind him .
Afterwards, he made his way to the chess table, where he played a practice game before one of the men who also stayed out of the prior argument offered to play against him. They made small talk while they played, and Mikey had to lie a whole lot about his past in order to relate to some of the things he was talking about.
"Checkmate," the guy said at the end, moving his queen to take Mikey's king from the last three sides he needed.
"Dammit!" Mikey laughed, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. The guy stuck out his hand for Mikey to shake it, which he did. "I don't think I ever got your name," he added.
"Tomas," he stated. Mikey smiled.
"I'm Micheal."
"Nice to meet you. Listen, I have some food in my room that I have to get rid of before we leave tomorrow, will you help me finish it?" Tomas asked him. Mikey smirked.
"Of course."
aaaaaahhhh so sorry this took like a month to get up i had a little bit of a crisis where i had like 0 information on the history of like. what it was like to enlist for ww2 so this is probably going to be pretty historically inaccurate for the entire rest of the fic (it probably already has some inaccuracies but its definitely got some here) but i did the best i could!!!!! hope u don't set me on fire!!!!