What If After That You Spent Decades Trying To Bring My Decying, Lifeless Body Home, While With Every

What if after that you spent decades trying to bring my decying, lifeless body home, while with every year, my last wish doesn't just become a promise to your brother- it becomes an obsession. Your eyes slowly become darker and stop reflecting what you see; they only see one goal anymore, Earth. What if every roadblock becomes a mortal enemy to you as you try to bring the pile of bones, the ones that used to contain my soul, back- they're stripped of their flesh because you had nothing to eat on one of those long, Europa days when you were stranded from the rest of your brothers in arms. In fact, what if those brothers slowly began looking at you differently, and you know they're talking through their suits about something, but they're not including you. You can tell they're afraid of you, afraid after that night where they dug you out of the snow to see you gnawing on my skeleton, the remains of my moldy flesh scattered on the floor around you and spattered on your face. You didn't mind. Everything was for me, after all. So what if the others minded? You only had to finish the war to get back; you only had to defeat everyone else. You had to hurt the people who had taken me away. And as your good memories of me faded, they became the scraps of life you clung to, because you no longer had anything else. Your brothers never understood why if was so important to you to get me back to Earth, never understood that it wasn't because of my last wish anymore, it was because everything else around you had faded into static and your only peace would be found from burying me in my native land. You weren't even sure what you would do after, but you didn't think about that, all you had to do was keep on putting one foot in front of the other; keep killing one person after another. And what if, as the faces blurred together, you accidently killed your family? Your pack, that had traveled along with you, now lay silent among the pink-stained ice and snow? Well, you were fighting a war. Casualties were bound to happen. It wasn't even really your fault, was it- they were holding you back, trying to make you see that you were slowly dying from some disease you contracted after eating my flesh. But you knew, of course, that that wasn't true. They were only trying to keep you from returning with your brother to Earth, to stay there forevermore. If they were right? You didn't care. You trudged on, through snow and ice and sleet and bullets and guns and fighting and death, even though you were getting slower with every step, you kept walking. And what if, in the end, you looked around and saw that not even my bones were there anymore; your soul was now lost somewhere in the rubble. What if you looked up and thought you saw a glimpse of blue and green, somewhere out there, and felt your heart stop, there amongst the snow.

What if, later, your body was found and brought back to Earth, and I was finally able to rest happily?

What if that's when it ends?

What if it goes on forever?

what if we were brothers in arms in the war torn landscape of europa and i held your bleeding wound as the blood stained the endless, blinding white tundra, your bated breath asking me to bury you back home and our last memory together was looking up to the swirling rings of color on jupiter. what then.