Beads of sweat rolled down Dean's neck as he wiped at his forehead with his gloved hand, one hand tightly gripping the gun to his chest and pointing it out towards the trees behind them as the truck rumbled down the curving road, following behind the two that were nestled in front of them. The sun beat down on them mercilessly, and the dirt that rose from the trucks left a cloud of dust in their wake, scratching at his very throat with every breath and making him swallow vainly in an attempt to be rid of it.

"Hot as hell, ain't it?" One soldier drawled, wiping his mouth with his thumb and letting out a soft breath of air as he attempted to find a way to cool himself down, "Reminds me of the time on the fields at home. Alabama had some of the strongest sun I've ever laid my eyes on."

"I remember visiting lower Alabama once. It was like the sun was completely different from the sun in the north," Another soldier chimed in, shaking his head as he flashed a pure white grin, his dark eyes flashing over to the man who had first spoken.

"You've obviously never been to Texas," Said a soldier near the back of the truck, smirking at the two, "You haven't felt true heat until your skin feels like it's being burned off. I've had so much sun poisoning from working in the sun in Texas that I was hospitalized for at least an eighth of my life."

"You're only twenty Richmond," The first soldier jibed, and chuckles spread through the soldiers, even Dean, as Richmond flushed a slight red, shooting the man a friendly glare and opening his mouth for a retort.

Yet, there was no chance for response as the shattering screech of a land mine tore at their ears, Dean barely having any moment to react as he threw his arms up to protect his head as the truck flew backwards with a strong force, twisting to the side before tipping and rolling quickly across the ground and hitting the trees just beyond the dirt road.

Pain lanced through Dean's jaw as he landed onto the ground, and the crushing weight that landed on top of him smacked his head into the side of the truck, knocking him unconscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A scream is what roused Dean from his unconscious state, his head lifting groggily as his vision attempted to right itself, coming upon the chained figure of Richmond, his head hanging limply as his arms were stretched above his head, attached to some sort of metal railing. Dean jerked forwards to help, only to stop when his own arms strained in protest, numbness in his fingers as he looked up, finding himself in a similar situation as the man before him.

"What the hell..." He whispered out, not having enough strength in his ragged throat to speak any louder as he turned his head to the side, his vision shaking slightly as his gaze landed upon the other soldiers that had been in his platoon, his brows furrowing at the extensive and diverse damage to each one of them.

"Keep your mouth shut," He heard someone mutter on his other side and turned his head to see a soldier he did not recognize sitting beside him, a dark look in his eyes as he kept his gaze carefully on Dean, darting every once and a while to the shadows that surrounded just outside the dull glow of a dirty lamp, "The guards don't put up with any noise."

Dean let his eyes dart to the shadows as the soldier spoke, and he could just barely make out the shifting of a guard in the distance, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out what they were wearing, or if they had any identification at all. He figured it wouldn't matter anyway, now that they were their prisoners.

Another scream reached his ears, and Dean turned his head back to look over his shoulder the best he could with his arms in the way, only seeing a tent with two guards standing by the entrance of the sand-colored cloth. The soldier beside him shifted when the screams became continuous, and when Dean looked back, he could only see discomfort and regret on the man's face.

"What the hell is going on?!" Dean hissed under his breath, making sure he remained as quiet as possible. The soldier shook his head, clenching his jaw as jerked his head to the side before letting his head hang. Dean didn't move, but he felt chills crawl up his spine as he heard footsteps, and a guard passed the corner of his vision, the man making his way through the prisoners before he took place at where he was to begin with.

"That poor soul tried to escape last night. Would have made it too if your platoon hadn't come along when it did," The soldier responded quietly, his fingers wrapping around the chains and staring up at the frustratingly, "He'll probably be dead by morning. Just tune out the noise."

Dean swallowed nervously, letting what conversation that they had fall silent as he turned his gaze down, staring at the ground as he shifted, feeling the clinging of dirt and blood sticking his clothes to his skin. Thankfully, he didn't feel injured anywhere on his body, except for a throbbing in his jaw and back of the head. It wasn't until he heard the jingling of the chains across from him that he looked up, meeting the panicked eyes of Richmond.

"What's happening?!" Richmond exclaimed in fear, tugging at the chains wildly in an attempt to get his hands free. The soldier beside Dean attempted to silence the man, but it was too late as he heard a loud string of foreign words reach his ears, an angry tone lacing them as the guard from before stalked over to their part of the line, staring at the young soldier that was still struggling.

Dean saw the gun being raised up by the man, only to flinch when the butt was brought down across Richmond's head with a sickening thump, Dean swallowing as the young man let out a cry of pain. When the gun was raised again, Dean felt a little panic overcome him as he kicked out with his leg, catching the guard in the back of the calf.

"Leave him alone, you fucker," Dean snapped, successfully gaining the guard's attention as the man turned his dark gaze to Dean, turning and pointing the gun right at Dean's forehead. Dean felt his heart stop, but he refused to let himself show fear as he glared at the man with all he had, a snarl trying to force its way on his face.

Instead of shooting, the guard pulled the gun back and brought his foot up, catching Dean right in the ribs and dragging his breath from him as he collapsed, only the bite of the shackles keeping him in place. Another kick, a little closer to his hip than ribs and Dean gritted his teeth, his glare only growing in intensity as he was dealt blow after blow, and he was almost sure that his insides were being bruised.

It seemed forever before the guard stopped and spat in his face, stalking back towards the front line of prisoners and leaving his eyesight. Dean took in a breath, his ribs stinging with the effort as he forced himself back into a normal sitting position, ignoring the look Richmond was giving him and closing his eyes to try and force the pain away.

"You're mad," The soldier beside him hissed, but Dean just looked over at him, the glare in his eyes still present and causing the soldier to flinch under the pure rage in his eyes.

"I've had worse," Dean growled with painful breaths before turning his eyes to the sky, wondering if Sam would be staring at the stars in the sky as well