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He walks hurriedly along the trench, his face dirty and helmet askew. The sounds overhead are deafening, the explosions rocking the earth - the dirt around the ladders trickle down with every bump of a soldier running past, their shoulders jostling rock free.
A high pitched whistle sounds overhead.
“Incoming!” Someone yells, and he immediately ducks down, throwing his arms over his helmet. The force of the blast knocks him off his feet and into the dirt. When he looks up, his gaze is met with the wrecked face of a mother clutching her small child, sobbing - the last civilians left alive in this area. “Help us, please, help!”
He staggers to his feet and stumbles, knocking back into the chest of the Colonel. Hands on his shoulders, Colonel Latiffe turns and steadies him, and gives his surely shell shocked face a one over. Hands come up to smack against his helmet.
“What’s in your head, Winchester? Get your shit together, Lieutenant, this ain’t your first go-round.”
Another explosion surrounds them and two lookouts high up on the ladders drop, dead, and another with shrapnel stuck in his eye. Dean pales.
“Benny, I gotta find him - Cas, where’s Cas?”
The Colonel’s expression softens for a moment before hardening; shouts and screams surround them. “Tank! They’ve got a tank!”
“Find the Captain and tell him he’s needed back here.” Dean nods, “Go, brother.”
And Dean takes off running, his head ducked low and a hand on his helmet. The noise is deafening from either side, but Dean’s on a mission, his sole mantra as he runs: “Get to Cas, get to Cas, get to Cas.”
Ahead, he sees Cas with his back turned to him - but he would recognize that stance and the wisps of slightly too long dark hair curling around his ears. Dean breathes such a huge sigh of relief he doesn’t even notice the ground shaking and by the time he hears the loud whistle he knows he’ll be too late. “Cas!” He calls out and launches himself forward, but the Captain is already down.
“No, nonono, no, Cas, c’mon buddy.” Dean drapes his body over Cas’ trying to shield the Captain from the debris falling around them. Cas coughs, a dark splatter of blood hits Dean’s chest.
“Medic!” He cries out. “Fuck, Cas, hang in there.” Cas smiles weakly up at him, his blue eyes clouded over to grey. Dean clutches Cas’ hand to his chest. “I need a fucking medic over here, now”
Another explosion sounds close by and Dean throws himself over the Captain once more. And then silence. A bell tolls off in the distance and then people around them start cheering, hugging each other. He pulls back and Cas coughs again, his lungs rattle loudly, pulse weak.
“We did it, Dean?” Cas is quiet, the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his teeth stained with it.
Dean looks down and brushes his thumb over Cas’ cheek, “Yeah, buddy, we won.” Cas closes his eyes, a small smile on his face, and Dean feels Cas’ last breath shudder to nothing. He chokes back a sob, oblivious to the celebrations around them, and tries one last, fruitless time. “Medic!”