Destiel One-Shots

No! Not without you!

"Dean, I got next watch."

Dean glanced behind him at the yawning lieutenant.

"I got it, kid, don't worry. I'm not tired. Go get some shut eye."

The lieutenant smiled sleepily and crawled bag over to his sleeping bag. Dean turned back to watching the silent woods around them, waiting for the enemy.

A shuffling behind him caught his attention and he turned to see his brother joining him in his watch.

"Dean," Sam said, "You need to get some sleep too. You can't stay up forever. You need to let him go."

Dean glared at his brother. Let him go?! I'd as soon die than believe Cas is really gone.

Dean turned away from his brother and went back to his watch. He kept thinking about ways he could have stopped Cas from being captured, what he could have done differently, if he could have talked them into taking him instead.

Sam sighed and settled in to watch with his brother. Dean dragged his hands down his face, shaking the sleep from his mind.

**********************

Dawn broke over the horizon and rested upon Dean and Sam sitting side by side both caught in their own thoughts. Dean's were ones of guilt and self-loathing. Sam's were ones of concern and fear.

The company woke and quickly struck camp, heading out to their next check point. They laughed and talked of their hometowns. The group was mostly made up of eighteen year olds who had joined with the promise of glory and had yet to see any battle. They were restless, but Sam and Dean, who had already been in their fair share of war, warned them that glory did not await.

The company was trying to join the rest of their forces in a small town in the German countryside where the Allies had made a base. They decided to hitch a ride on a train passing through.

They clambered aboard the train, crowding into one car. They didn't even see it coming.

All at once, the car door slid open and gunfire erupted. The company was quickly mowed down like their murder was nothing. Maybe in war it truly does mean nothing. Two survived, only because they were trapped under the bleeding and broken bodies of their comrades.

The Winchesters.

They played dead as best they could, and made sure to see the face of the murderer. An ugly man with a long scar crossing his face over his left eyebrow and down across his nose and mouth to his right jawbone. The door slid closed.

He would pay.

The train rolled into the station in the town they had been heading for. The Allied forces avoided the car of the company. No one wanted to go near the car that was leaking blood from beneath the door and smelled of death. Finally, the commanding officer ordered a lieutenant to open the door.

Several bodies fell out, jostled from their position by the movement of the train. No one moved. Except for the Winchesters.

They stood, from the center of their fallen friends, covered in their blood and filled with righteous fury. They jumped from the train to the surprise of the multitude gathered around.

"We want to see the commanding officer." Dean said as a growl, his anger causing many to back away.

The officer stepped forward with his head held high. "I am the commanding officer."

"Permission requested for a solo mission, sir." Sam said in a quiet voice that shook with barely concealed anger.

The officer started to sputter that a solo mission was suicide and that they should give a description of the enemy who murdered the company but quickly silenced when the faces of the brothers did not change.