The Great Book of One-Shots

War

Wow, okay, I've had this idea for literal years. I wrote it down in a notebook at school and never got around to typing it out. However, I ended up throwing the notebook away and just taking pics of the story... on my old phone. So, I kinda had to write it all out from faint memories of the original story line. (Also, can I just say that the original may of been a Skybop fic? I don't really remember anymore, but that's how old this is)

Without further ado, have a long overdo one-shot~

Warning: blood, injury, and weapon mentions, capture

Enjoy!

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Ben bit his lip hard enough to taste iron and tried to steady himself with his shaking hands as he gathered up as much courage he could. Squeezing his eyes shut, he jumped out of the plane he had been flying and hoped to God that whatever was in the most-definitely booby trapped and enemy controlled water below wouldn't kill him.

The force of hitting the water stung all over his body and snapped him back to the moment as he struggled to the surface, gasping for air as soon as he could. He quickly surveyed his surroundings to make sure no enemies were around before staring his swim to the shore. Though, as he got closer and the murky water got more shallow, his hand came down on something sharp. Yanking it away and looking at his palm, Ben found that there seemed to be a few, small, puncture-like wounds. 

His heart dropped as he recognized the pattern and the tactic that caused it. Barbed wire. The shoreline would be covered in it from base to base, specifically to keep enemies like himself out.

Taking a deep breath and letting a grimace settle on his face, Ben continued forwards. The metal thorns scraped and cut at every inch of his body that they touched and he tried his best to block out the pain, adrenaline helping to do so. 

His arms shook as he crawled onto the small beach, sand only going back about 10 or so feet before it merged into the forest that covered much of the land. He smiled at his progress and tried to stand up only to be met with a sharp pain in his right leg that caused him to fall right back down.

Determined to live, he settled on crawling and started making his way towards the cover of the trees when his world froze and his heart shattered.

"Freeze." The American soldier's voice was firm and demanding, effectively making Ben do as he wanted. Though, he still risked a look towards the other man, the most desperate and pleading look in his eyes.

The gun that had been pointed at him slightly lowered before being raised again and Ben looked away, not wanting to see his own death. 

However, instead of a gunshot, he simply heard footsteps in the sand getting closer to him until he saw the American crouch near him out of the corner of his eye. He flinched as the other man grabbed his left arm with a tight grip and caught the glint of a knife heading towards his wrist.

He prepared himself for a sharp pain, but let out a confused sound as the blade simply went under the cheap, plastic band - you know, the kind that are impossible to get off without something sharp - around his wrist to identify his body. 

The band easily snapped off and his arm fell back to the sand, a whimper escaping his lips at the pain that shot through the many cuts covering the underside.

A moment passed before the American soldier read off the country listed on the band in a shocked voice, "D-Denmark?" 

Ben weakly looked up, hoping to find anything other than ruthlessness or hatred on the other's face.

Blue eyes met his green ones and they simply stared into one another for a moment before the other spoke, "You're... from Denmark?"

A nod was all Ben could manage.

"Then... you're supposed to be on our side."

Another nod was followed by Ben looking away, almost ashamed. His throat felt dry despite just being in the water, but he knew words were his best chance at getting through this alive, "Cap...tured..." The broken word was heavily accented and spoken in a voice that hadn't used English very often.

"H'mm?"

"Captured..." He spoke the word again, louder.

Realization seemed to hit the American, "You or your country?"

A pause, "Both."

The other - who Ben had noted seemed to be older, taller, and stronger than him - gave a questioning look that probed for more information.

"We were... attacked... Useful people... were taken and... forced to join the enemies... I wasn't strong... but understood English... I was supposed to be a spy... find out your plans... Th-they would kill me if I did not do what they wanted! I-I do not want to die!" Fear showed more and more with each word as Ben showed the emotions he had been forced to hide since he was dragged from his home.

A whimper escaped him as his upper arm was grabbed and a sob as an arm wrapped around his chest. He felt himself get pulled to his feet and dragged off into the trees he had been heading for in the first place. He let out a grunt as he was set against the trunk of one of the trees and tried to slow his crying when he felt hands mess with something on his chest.

Forcing back tears and settling on small whimpers and whines, he watched as his army jacket was unbuttoned and figured it useless to fight back as it was taken off of him. A similar process repeated with the white shirt he wore under it and he flinched as the knife was pulled out again. He watched, body trembling in fear, as red stained parts of his pants were cut away to reveal the cuts and gashes underneath - a particularly gruesome one on his right calf.

He tried to muffle his pained sounds as shreds of his discarded clothing was wrapped around the worst wounds - a temporary fix for the blood loss, yet the best that could be done for the moment.

He let out a very un-manly squeak as he was scooped up bridal style and gave an uncertain look to the soldier who had gone from wanting to kill him to helping him in a matter of minutes.

A not-very-reassuring sigh was followed by simple, yet meaningful words, "I'm taking you back to my base to get patched up. Your wounds need cleaning and stitches, but you should be fine." The American paused, "There'll probably be a guard around you 'til they can figure out if you're trustworthy or not and... and I wouldn't doubt it if there's some handcuffs or a cell or something, but you'll be okay. You'll live... I'll make sure of it."

Ben hesitantly wrapped his arms around the other to help keep himself from falling as he started walking, "Why... why do you care so much... about me?"

The American gave a half-hearted smirk, "Weren't you the one crying about not wanting to die? Besides," Ben could of sworn he saw the other blush, "you're kinda cute."

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1104 words! Okay, I kinda wrote this one out but it still doesn't have a proper ending so let's just count it as unfinished.

Hope you enjoyed!

~Angel ^-^