Hero of War

Hero of War- EDITING AS OF 7-21-16

Btw, think season 1 Dean because he's a li'l guy in this.

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"Corporal!" The sound of the soldiers' voice who was looming over him was faint compared to the piercing ringing in his ears. Guns were firing all around him, men in uniform yelling orders as they ran into the heart of battle.

"Dean!" His name was called out again and all the sounds of the furious battlefield began to focus, along with the outline of who he hardly recognized as Adam. 

"We gotta go!" Adam yelled as he knelt down to hoist the other soldier up on his feet, guns swinging at their sides. Dean took a step forward but nearly fell to the ground as his knee buckled. He was caught by Adam's thin hand pressed to his chest, splayed across a dirtied military uniform. He felt... dull. What had happened? Looking down, Dean realized one of his legs had been tattered to the point where it couldn't even be classified as a body part anymore. Blood was pooling in the hot, Afgan sand.

Anything Dean tried to say came out as babble. The realization he was being pulled from battle sent him slipping into a state of shock, heart racing, his eyes wide.

Just before the two could hobble any further, a loud voice split through the air, "Milligan! Get Winchester back to Base! We'll cover you!" It was their First Sargent. For the first time in his life, Dean was genuinely terrified.

As he was pulled along by his fellow soldier, Dean reached up to his helmet where he was certain a worn, folded picture was placed, taking it into the sweaty palm of his hand just as both him and his comrade collapsed. They were ducked behind a wall, hiding from the enemy's line of fire, so Dean had the perfect amount of time to unfold the picture, getting a good last look at the person he loved. The loved picture got progressively blurrier as the world around the Commander spun quicker. Darkness began eating away at every inch of the rubbled city in Dean's sight, he instinctively clutched onto the photo, unable to bear the idea of it getting buried, forgotten, in blood red sand. 

"Tell 'em... I love him..." The Winchester managed, his helmet sliding forward on his head a little as he stumbled off the battleground, weakly clutching onto the smaller soldier at his side. Dean knew what was happening. Knew he'd bleed out before he could reach the supplies-less medical tent. Soldiers don't cry... He reminded himself repetitively. Soldiers don't cry.

"I won't have ta, Dean, 'cause you'll. You're gonna tell him yourself, right?" Dean's grip loosened. "Hey... Hey! Dean stay with me! We'll get to Base, stay with me!" Adams southern accent was thicker at certain points of his speech- clearly trying not to breakdown to tears himself. The two might as well have been brothers they were so close, so this was devastating on both ends. 

Dean's one good leg started to give and everything around him was spinning, doubling. His name being screamed was the last thing he heard before his senses were switched off. 

_.~_.~._

Somehow, Adam must have gotten Dean back to Base, because now he lay on his back being rushed down a long hallway on a cold, steel gurney. Blinding white lights shone down at him along the way, the voices of the medical staff shouting around him was almost more frightening than gunfire to hear; especially with their current conversation.

He promised to come home safe, he promised to go back with no memory of any of the war, but now here he was... Dragged from the war zone to go into surgery.

"We'll have to amputate his right leg just above his knee. I'm going to need anesthesia prepped, IVs and morphine. As much as we can administer to one patient." The doctor above him instructed, looking down at Dean with a soft smile on her fragile face. "You're going to be okay, Mr. Winchester. Don't worry, you'll leave these sands just as you came." Lie.