Warning: gory images of war

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed. I love knowing what y'all think and would like to see.

Chapter 12

Stefan huffed and rolled over onto his side. He fumed as he listened to murmuring voices outside the tent with jealousy. Ever since his trip to town a few days ago, Damon had been sending him to bed early. He couldn't even sneak out because Damon kept one eye on the tent flap at all times. Stefan had briefly considered rebelling before deciding that he didn't really want Damon's tent mate to witness him being scolded. Or worse.

His body stiffened when he heard Damon come through the tent flap and he resolutely studied the flame flickering in the lantern bedside the cot. Just because he was forced to share a bed with his brother didn't mean that he had to acknowledge Damon's existence.

Damon sat down on the edge of the cot and pulled his boots off. "The scouts just came through and warned us that there are Union troops moving into the area. Stay in the camp at all times. I don't want you leaving by yourself for any reason. Not even to fetch water."

Stefan laid there in silence.

Damon puffed his cheeks out in frustration. "How long are you going keep this up?"

"How long are you going to keep treating me like a child?" he sassed.

Damon lightly smacked his thigh through the blanket. "When I can trust you not to wander off like a small child, I'll stop treating you like one."

When he didn't get a response, Damon sighed and laid down next to his little brother. ""If you do what I said and stay close by for a couple days, I'll stop putting you to bed so early. I know I'm not your favorite person right now, but we're in a very dangerous situation. I'd rather have you angry and alive than dead because I didn't do my best to keep you safe."

Damon had kept his promise, but Stefan was still irritated. And the gnawing hunger wasn't helping his attitude any. The soldiers had eaten through the town's food supply and now everyone was on strict rations. Damon was going to buy some sausage from the sutlers a couple days ago, but he changed his mind after what happened to some other soldiers. The four men had split the cost of the sausage only to discover that the 'sausage' was actually from a cat.

Stefan looked up from his journal when Damon walked into the tent. A worried expression marred his older brother's face.

"What's wrong?" asked Stefan.

"Union soldiers are about a mile away. We're getting ready for battle."

Damon crossed his arms and stared at his little brother with narrowed eyes.

"I don't like the look on your face," Stefan said nervously.

"I'm debating whether I should hog tie you to the tent pole."

The boy slowly inched backwards on the cot. "That won't be necessary"

Damon looked him in the eye with a solemn face. "Stay in this camp and don't go near the battlefield. If I don't make it back, go find James' cousin. If he doesn't make it back either, grab the horse and go home. Travel at night only with your pistol out at all times and watch for Union soldiers."

Stefan panicked and threw his journal to the side. "No!"

"Yes," he said firmly. "If I don't fight, I'll be executed as a deserter." Damon pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, little one."

It took everything Stefan had in him not to grab his older brother and beg him to stay.

He tried to lie down and read a newspaper to distract himself, but he was too anxious to concentrate. About an hour after Damon left, Stefan heard the roar of battle begin. Booming thuds filled the air along with rapid gunfire. Stefan pressed his hands over his ears to try and block out the noise. It was hard enough to cope with the thought of Damon being in danger when he was back in Mystic Falls. Being nearby during a battle made it seem so much more real. And frustrating. He had no idea how the battle was going or if Damon was even still alive.

After what felt like an eternity, he startled when someone open the tent flap.

"Come here," said Dr. Bennett. "I need your help."

"But my brother said..."

"Don't worry," the doctor interrupted, "You won't be going anywhere near the battle, but I'm desperate for help."

Stefan cautiously followed Dr. Bennett to the field hospital. In between washing bandages, the doctor had been teaching Stefan basic medical care such as how to bandage wounds.

The boy's eyes went wide as he took in the scene. Men were lying all over the ground and moaning in pain. One man laid on a temporary operating table that had been set up with an old door, two barrels, and rubber cloth. Stefan turned to the side and lost his lunch when he noticed a pile of amputated arms and legs lying nearby.

"You okay, kid?" asked Dr. Bennett.

Stefan nodded and wiped at his mouth.

"Good. Get to work," he said before throwing some bandage cloths at the boy.

Stefan tried to work as quickly as possible. It seemed like there was blood everywhere, seeping into the ground and running in tiny rivers beneath his boots. Nurses brought new wounded in on stretchers faster than he could attend to them. Several hours in, his legs were shaking with exhaustion and his eyes were blurry.

He was surprised when he looked up to see McGuffey lying on the operating table. The old man was crying in pain and clutching at his leg.

"The bones are completely shattered," said the young, male nurse.

The doctor gave a quick nod and then the nurse held a chloroform cloth to the man's face. Dr. Bennett set to work amputating the leg in the short time that the chloroform would allow. Stefan watched in horror as the doctor took a large knife and cut into the leg. He couldn't watch anymore when the bone saw was pulled out to use.

Stefan tried hard to focus on the other soldiers and not on what the doctor was doing. McGuffey was annoying and irritable, but no one deserved to go through that. When the doctor was finally finished, Stefan volunteered to bandage the man.

The nurse handed him a bottle of whiskey. "Give him a shot of this every fifteen minutes after he wakes up."

He obediently eased the alcohol down McGuffey's throat in between seeing to other soldiers. The pain in his eyes as he groaned was haunting. Stefan wasn't entirely sure that the man was even aware of his missing leg.

Finally, Stefan noticed non-wounded men returning from the battlefield and started searching for his brother among the haggard faces.

Relief washed over him when he finally spotted Damon. Stefan wrapped his arms tightly around his brother for a moment before pulling away. His breath hitched when he realized that Damon's jacket was soaked in blood.

"That's not your blood is it?" Stefan asked worriedly.

Damon took in the sight of his disheveled younger brother. "Thankfully no. I assume that you're covered in someone else's blood as well?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I left the tent. It's just..."

"It's alright," said Damon calmly. "You stayed away from the battlefield and I'm proud of you for helping."

"Damon?"

"Hmmm?"

"It's McGuffey...he...he lost his leg."

Damon winced. "Come on," he said. "The others can take over. You need some rest." He pressed a hand to Stefan's forehead. "Great. You've got a fever again."

Stefan shrugged as he looked around at the wounded. "Could be worse," he said softly.

Damon pulled him to the tent and grabbed a bucket. "I'm going to get some water. I'll be right back."

Stefan nodded and sat down on the cot. Wiley came through the flap soon afterwards and raised an eyebrow at Stefan's appearance.

"Damon...?" asked Wiley uncertainly.

"He's fine," reassured Stefan right as Damon came back.

The two men shared a relieved look. Wiley pulled on his hair in frustration. "Well that was a miserable failure," he said.

"Tell me about it," gripped Damon. "It's like the commanders never want this stupid war to end." He turned to Stefan and set the bucket down. "Strip. You're not getting into bed with those dirty clothes on and ruining my blankets."

"Did we lose?" asked Stefan hesitantly.

"General says it was inconclusive," snarled Damon, "but I'm not sure the concept of winning even exists in this war. Not when both sides have lost many."

Stefan obediently took his jacket off while Damon cleaned the blood off of his face with a rag. For once, he didn't fuss about his older brother acting like a mother hen.

When both Salvatores were reasonably clean and in fresh clothing, Damon threw a blanket around Stefan's shoulders. "Come on. Let's go sit by fire. It'll warm you up."

He stood up and followed his brother outside where he noticed a gloomy atmosphere among the soldiers. It was strangely quiet as the men took stock of who was dead or wounded.

Damon held his hands over the fire. "You okay?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," muttered Stefan. "My fever doesn't feel that high."

Damon turned to look at his little brother. "That's not what I meant."

"I don't want McGuffey to die," said Stefan sadly.

Damon looked towards the field hospital. "Old man McGuffey is tough. He'll be fine."

He gave his older brother a disbelieving look. "Nurse Davidson says that only half the amputees survive their injuries."

For the first time in Stefan's life, Damon didn't have anything comforting to say. His brother just stared into the fire for several minutes before telling Stefan that he was going to look for food.

He reached out to grab Damon's arm before the older man could walk away. "I'm glad you're alive," said Stefan, he voice thick with emotion.

Damon smiled. "Me too, baby brother."