Healing the Wounds of War

Part one: Wounded Prologue: The Scars of War

"NO!" Weston screamed, wrenching his arms free from the soldier's grasp. "HE NEEDS ME! HE'S WOUNDED!" His vocal cords tightened, making his voice an octave higher than usual as he pleaded frantically. Struggling free from the soldier's grasp he fell to the sand, landing on his belly, biting back a yelp.

He gazed over at his comrade, laying motionless in the sand. No, not just his comrade, his friend. His brother. Not him. Why him? Anyone, but him. "I NEED TO HELP HIM!" He dug his elbow into the sand and struggled to pull himself forward. The man's limp body stirred.

"We... Ston?" The man's unseeing eyes opened and darted in desperation for a moment. "Wes... Ton?" He rasped again, his voice cracking and dying out. He was trembling and groaning weakly. Adam never liked being alone, he must be terrified, Weston thought as he continued to struggle forward.

"I'm here, Adam!" Weston cried crawling over to him, dragging his wounded legs behind him. Reaching out, he grasped Adam's hand. "I'm here, Adam..." He whispered, his voice shaking as he struggled to hold back tears.

Would he ever get home and get to collage, like Weston made him promise to do? Would he ever give his goofy smile again? God, when was the last time Adam smiled? Not much since they lost Mikey. Would he go home and finally make things right with his family, like he said he would? Why had he been so harsh to him in the beginning? He needed Adam.

"Weston...?" Adam rasped, a shudder passing through him. "I... I don't... Want to... Die here... I... Still... Need to-" He squeezed his eyes shut and winced, the corners of his mouth twisting into a pained frown. Tears ran down his cheeks and his whole body trembled.

Weston shook his head and shut his eyes. It hurt him to see someone he cared about so much in so much pain. "Your not gonna die... Just... Hang on!" Weston pleaded desperately. He lifted Adam's shoulders and yanked his medical pack, grimacing when Adam let out a yelp. Slipping the straps off Adam's arms he gently laid him back down before he fumbled through the bag.

Quickly discovering that everything in the bag was destroyed and worthless, he tossed it away and fished out his knife from his own bag. He quickly cut away Adam's shattered vest and choked back a sob as he looked at the bullet wounds that had tore into his friend's chest.

Weston had never felt so helpless. He was a medic, he was supposed to save lives! For the love of God! There had to be something he could do! Inside though, he knew there was nothing he could do. "CALL A MEDEVAC!" He yelled, pleaded, as he pulled Adam's head into his lap and cradled it gently.

Adam's eyes fluttered open briefly and they darted, searching for Weston. Finally, they stilled and the clouded shadows faded away from his dull, blue eyes, and he could focus on Weston's face. "Thank... You... Weston... Fo-"

"Shhhh. I know... Don't waste your energy... I know..." He shook his head as tears silently fell from his cheeks. "I'm gonna get you home. I'm gonna bring you home. Just... Fight it. Don't give in."

Adam smiled weakly and raised his left hand, which Weston quickly took. His eyes rolled closed, but his chest continued to rise and fall in shallow, rapid breaths. Weston closed his eyes and let his head bob forward onto Adams chest, listening to his slow, fading heartbeat. Weston was losing him. Adam was leaving him.

Behind him, a cry echoed in his ears. He was the Senior medic. Soldiers still needed his help, and he couldn't do anything more for Adam. He had to go and help his other brothers. He hastily cleaned the wounds on Adam's chest and packed a bandage on them, seeing the the blood had stopped spilling so rapidly. His heart wrenched. as he wished Adam's eyes would flutter open, the color would come back to his face, and he would give him ideas on how to treat the wound. Like old times.