Dawn brought a kick to his leg, stirring him from the exhaustion-filled doze that he had managed to find himself in halfway through the night. His mind was groggy, but the anger that had stirred in his chest last night woke him up, the stinging in every breath he took a reminder that none of them were safe.

His chains were released from the ones binding him to the railing, and pain coursed through his arms as blood rushed through them, but he did nothing but breathe a bit deeper through his nose, ignoring the pain of both his arms and side when the guard kicked his leg again, and he met the heartless stare of the man with a glare of his own.

"Get up. Moving to next camp," The guard growled, his accent making it almost impossible to quite understand what he was saying. Still, Dean got the gist of it and forced himself up onto his knees before rolling back onto his feet ad heaving himself up. The guard sniffed at him, as if Dean were lower than dirt, before grabbing the link of the chains and attaching it to a long middle chain that moved down the whole line of prisoners, locking it into place behind the other soldiers.

After the guard was finished, he moved on, linking Richmond to the chain, then the soldier from last night behind him. Dean turned his head, watching them carefully until he felt a soft kick on the back of his heel, more of a warning than anything.

"Turn your head. You'll end up dead if you keep pissing them off," The soldier muttered under his breath, and Dean frowned, turning back to the front despite the twitch in his fingers revealing how much he wanted to antagonize the guards. Sure, he was a prisoner, but did that mean he had to make it easy for them? Hell no.

It didn't take long before the guard was finished and the rest of the enemy soldiers formed around them, their guns kept ominously close as they pulled the prisoners into movement, dragging the entire line forwards and forcing them to walk. Dean scowled, muttering under his breath, but no one paid him any mind as the prisoners struggled for several moments before falling into a rhythm that made it slightly easier to walk.

Richmond had a dark look on his face, the skin around his eyes pale and his pupils blown wide, and Dean took in a breath when he realized that the boy had a concussion. He glanced back at the soldier behind him before moving closer to Richmond, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"You okay?" Dean asked, though he only received a slight nod in return. He could tell the boy was far from alright, as his hands were shaking and his eyes were darting around, as if he were trying to look at everything at once. Dean turned his head back to the soldier behind him, concern in his eyes at the deflated look of the man.

"There's nothing we can do for him," The soldier mumbled, his eyes casting to a guard before looking back to the ground, "It's best the guards don't know. They'd just make it worse."

"Keep up you useless shit!" He heard a guard shout from the back, followed by the thump of someone getting hit. Whoever it was didn't make a single noise in response, and Dean clenched his hands as he turned his gaze back to the front, his fingers twitching the entire way.

It wasn't until midday before they stopped to rest, the shade of the trees providing little relief against the heat that swamped the land. The enemy soldiers didn't seem to even notice the heat as they patrolled around the prisoners, and Dean watched them warily from his position before glancing farther down the line, counting the prisoners. Twenty-three in all, ranging from every age and each one seeming to have a vast difference of injuries.

"Richmond," Dean whispered, keeping silent for just a moment as a guard passed before looking at the younger soldier, staring at the quiet, pale form of the man that he remembered as being easily excited, and that only spurred his worries further, "How you holding up?"

"'M....fine," Richmond slurred out softly, not daring to speak any louder than slightly over the sound of a breath. Dean frowned and scooted a little closer, shifting as inconspicuous as he could before he was close enough to the soldier, gently guiding his head where he could see the damage that the enemy soldier had done to his scalp.

A knot had formed, almost as big as a golf ball, and beginning to turn a bluish color. The very sight of it making Dean's stomach sink down and do flips and bile rose in his throat before he forced it back, letting the soldier go, only to reach out and gently help him lean against Dean, his eyes fluttering closed before he drifted into unconsciousness.

The guards gave the two soldiers strange looks as they passed, but said nothing when they made their rounds, and after, what Dean could estimate to be, thirty minutes, the guards were back to nudging them up with their guns or feet, and Dean roused the poor soldier, who was struggling to stay conscious before helping him up, and continuing their path.

The afternoon came and went, and when the sun hung low in the sky, the prisoners found themselves in what looked like an old abandon string of cabins, already lit with at least five more guards standing among the buildings, watching the approaching group with little to no interest. They were led from the entrance of the cabins towards the largest one in the back, being released from the chains two at a time and led by the guards into the building.

Dean was dragged along beside Richmond into the building, the smell of fear and death swamping the dim room with only a few flickering lanterns casting enough light to see the other soldiers that were chained to the floor in the room so he didn't tread on their legs or feet as they were led farther back, where Dean was shoved down and chained.

Richmond was pushed as well, stumbling and falling beside Dean, a cry of pain leaving his lips as his head hit the wall, not hard, but not gentle either. The guard paid him no attention as they attached his chains and turned to leave, until Richmond retched onto the floor, his entire body shaking before collapsing against the wall, spittle escaping his lips as he began to jerk and spasm against his bonds.

"Richmond? Richmond?!" Dean called in alarm, pulling against his chains and reaching out for the man, just barely close enough to touch his shoulder with his left hand as the boy's eyes closed and the spasming began to slow. The guard grumbled and walked over, giving Dean a rough kick to knock him away before crouching in front of the soldier, grabbing his face roughly and twisting it this way and that before holding his hands in front of the man's mouth and nose, pulling away with indifference after a moment and leaving the room.

Dean took the chance to drag himself as close as he could and searched out Richmond's wrist, pressing his fingers to the thin skin and searching for a pulse. He felt his fear rising and reached up, pulling the soldier as gently as he could towards him, holding his fingers to the man's neck and ignoring the guard bringing more prisoner's in as he searched for the feeling.

There was a faint pulse.

Dean couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief and forced Richmond's face towards him, patting the cheek gently to try and rouse the man. The sigh turned into a soft version of the boy's name, trying to do anything to wake the man up, but nothing was working. He tried the man's pulse again, paranoia pushing at the fear he forced himself to contain back, for his own sake.

Nothing.

Anger stirred in Dean and when the next guard passed, he kicked out, letting out an angry shout that tore at his throat and turned his eyes to a glowing green, "You killed him!" Dean snarled, successfully gaining the guard's attention as the man swore before meeting Dean's jaw with his fist, letting out a string of angry foreign words that sounded suspiciously like a threat.

Still, the man did not stop until Dean was forced to look away, his jaw stinging and new pains bringing itself to light against the skin of his arms and hips. The guard finally turned his attention to the dead soldier now leaning against the wall, a peaceful look on his face despite the coldness of it all. The guard grinned, looking between Dean and the man with horribly disfigured teeth and a misalignment in his smile.

"Lost your toy?" The man jibed, laughing as if it were hilarious before motioning another guard in and pointing out the fallen soldier. The man then began speaking, motioning to Dean once or twice, and bringing out a laugh from the other guard before they unchanged Richmond and the first guard dragged him back out of the cabin, leaving the other guard to crouch near Dean, amusement in his eyes as he grabbed Dean's chin tightly enough that it could bruise.

"Like broken toys?" The man slurred with his thick accent, and Dean jerked his head away with a dark scowl, resisting the urge to bite the fingers off the man's hand. Still, he merely leaned back on his heels, staring at the empty space with a sudden excitement in his eyes.

"No worry. Another broken toy come soon," The man said, almost gleefully as he left the cabin, returning only a minute later with another soldier in tow, bandages over the man's eyes as he stumbled, a constant shiver in his body. The man tossed the soldier down, and he fell onto Dean with a soft whimper that Dean could barely hear, gripping onto Dean tightly in fear.

The soldier was pulled away from Dean at that, the momentary hold that the man had on Dean's clothes causing Dean to reach for the injured man on instinct, yet there was nothing he could do as the guard began to laugh at the movement, chaining the man before he looked back at Dean, that glee in his eyes turned into a sadistic smile that stretched his face.

"Pray this one don't die," The man spat at Dean, giving his leg a good kick before he left to get the rest of the prisoners. Dean turned his head away from him, feeling sick to his stomach as he looked over at the injured soldier, watching as he quivered and flinched at every noise.