Outside These Walls [Destiel]

Chapter 2

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.