Note: This story is not meant to be historically accurate. It was just a random plot bunny that I was attacked by and then had to write. Sorry that it's so short.
It was February 16, when he mounted his horse and set out with determination towards the only person that he could think about, the only person he'd been thinking about over the last few days. How could he not think about him on the one that landed exactly between both of their birthdays? It was the day that Lewis Armistead, commonly known as Lo, had many memories of over the years. But the war had changed everything. It was the war that had torn them all apart, the war that had changed the color of his uniform, the war that stated that they were enemies.
Winfield Scott Hancock wasn't an enemy to Armistead though. Maybe in the color of their uniforms they were, but in the hearts the bond of the earlier years still remained, and always would. The war wasn't strong enough to break the bond that had been between them since they'd first met, and when they'd fought together during the Mexican War. If only things didn't have to change, but could just stay the same, forever.
He rode quickly through the snow that drifted down from the sky and thought about Hancock. Their birthdays were only four days apart, Hancock's on the 14th, Armistead's on the 18th. There were many happy memories that he had of them celebrating them together.
The Union lines weren't far away; Armistead could make out the pickets in the distance as he approached them. But then he heard a sound he hadn't been expecting to hear, the sound of rifles going off, the second before he felt himself falling from the horse and landing on his side in the snow which started to turn a sickening shade of red.
It was then that the pain reached him, as Armistead tried to push himself back up, only to fall back down on his side in the snow. Union soldiers approached him and lifted him up slightly. Armistead stared at them for a moment. "Can… I… speak to… General Hancock?"
One of the men nodded, and went off into the snow, coming back a few minutes later with Hancock who fell to his knees before Armistead in the snow. "What have you done?" He asked, looking at the men who'd fired the shots, before looking back at Armistead. "We're going to get you someplace warm Lo; it's going to be alright."
Armistead shook his head and reached for Hancock's hand, which the other man took, blinking tears from his eyes. "Just hang on Lo, you're be fine."
"Win…" Armistead stared into his friend's eyes. "I didn't think it would end this way… Just… just always remember… how we were brothers…"
"How could I ever forget?" Hancock asked softly, but looking at Armistead, he could see that the man was already gone.
It may be for years, it may be forever.
Hancock closed his eyes, didn't want this to be the end. But he couldn't hide the truth. His brother had been taken from him.