IF YOU READ MY 'BROTHER'S CANON STORIES' AND DO NOT READ UN-RELATED SAM/DEAN STORIES: DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. You have been warned!

Legalities, as always Sam and Dean and all things Supernatural do not belong to me. They are the property of the CW and Kripke Enterprises. I wish they would share, but I don't think that is going to happen so I guess I will simply play in their sandbox for a bit.

Rating MA: For language and injured Dean and Sam throughout the storyline, they will also be M/M pairing although they are not brothers in this story. Pairings won't happen till later chapters, so be sure to review the warnings before reading.

If you don't like this type of thing, then don't read this story I am sure there are ones that would be more pleasing to you.

Author's Note: This story will follow Sam and Dean they continue their lives and try to deal with the challenges of their own pasts and tragic past of a child named Adam Milligan. This ride will get bumpy before it gets smooth, so be prepared.

Previous Chapter:

"Dean…I'm sorry. I got caught up at the office…" Sam's voice was soft and apologetic as he stared into the jade eyes of his partner.

"Guess that's what happens when you've been out for two weeks." Dean mumbled. He didn't feel badly that Sam had been with him, but he certainly understood how quickly one's work could pile up. He wasn't looking forward the backlog of patients and cases that he'd be attending to once he got out of this hospital. And the sooner he could talk them into making that decision, the better.

Sam's throat rumbled as he chuckled. He leaned in and ghosted a whisper of a kiss across Dean's plump lips. He was careful to pull away quickly, since he didn't want a repeat of the other day. Sam wasn't sure that his heart could handle much of that. It was hard enough to see Dean in this place, his face pale and his breathing labored, without knowing that he'd sent the doctor over the edge…like earlier this week. "Very true. Although the other partners have been splitting my case load, so I wasn't nearly as behind as I could have been." He grinned and applied a tiny bit of pressure to Dean's wrist in emphasis.

"You're gonna have to do something nice for them…dinner maybe." Dean said simply.

"Already ahead of you. I'm taking a pro-bono case from each of them." Dean smiled. He knew that it wasn't a stretch for Sam to take on the free cases that his law firm accepted. It was a PR stunt for the firm, but Sam actually believed in helping those that couldn't help themselves. And since he wasn't in it for the money, Sam put his whole heart into those cases.

A sharp stab of pain lurched through Dean and he ground his teeth together as he waited for it to pass. Sam watched, feeling helpless, as he too waited for the other man to reopen his eyes. "I'm fine, Sam…" He said as his eyelids slid slowly apart, revealing glassy green irises.

Sam didn't answer. He licked his lips and stood up, he settled gently next to Dean's hip and then leaned back against the mountain of pillows. Dean shifted just enough to lie against the long ribcage and stretch his long lean legs out blow him. "You're not…but you're alive. I'll take that." He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat. "Agent Richardson came to see me."

Dean turned his head slightly and his eyes widened in surprise. "What did he want?"

"He wants to talk to you." Sam said quietly.

"But I don't know anything…" Dean answered softly.

Sam inhaled and tried to determine how much he should say to Dean. He didn't want to send him down a self-pity path…but he also didn't feel good not telling his partner what he knew. The lies that he'd dealt with in his short life had been far too damaging for Dean. And Sam knew that of all the things that the man could handle from him…lies was not one of them.

"He's found a connection he wants to explore." He felt Dean shift again and that drew his blue-green gaze down to the smaller man.

"A connection? Like between me and the bomber?" The words tumbled out of Dean's mouth and he could feel the hysteria building in his stomach. His past was coming back to haunt him…he just wasn't sure which part of his rotten past it was.

Sam inhaled deeply. "I don't how much I can tell you…not because I wouldn't, just because I don't know all that much. He said something about a catastrophe with a unit…" He was just about to continue when all the color drained from Dean's face and he sagged back against the pillows.

"The bomb…it was military grade wasn't it?" He asked.

Sam nodded.

"He promised it was over…" Dean whispered before he shifted and tried to move away from Sam. He needed to call this Agent Richardson and he needed to do it now…because this thing wasn't over.

XXXX

Chapter 15

Moral Highground

Sam tilted his head and stared at Dean. He watched as Dean took in the full meaning of this development. He also saw the moment that Dean realized that he was indirectly responsible for all these people deaths. And while Sam would have argued, until he was blue in the face, that Dean couldn't be held accountable for this man's decision…he knew that Dean would do it anyways. His partner stretched out his hand until his fingers closed around the small black iPhone. His green gaze shifted to Sam and he tried to force a smile. He wondered if he should explain it to Sam first? If talking this through would make more sense than immediately calling the agent and trying to piece it together over the phone? His hand fell quietly at his side and turned to look at Sam. The worried face was slightly masked as he waited for Dean to continue. Sam generally didn't like to infer things…he waited until those talking to him spilled their guts…and they always spilled.

"His name was Corporal Dawson. We were…involved for a time. It wasn't something that the military allowed then…we both would've bee dishonorably discharged if they'd found out." Dean found that he had to drop his eyes from the pain reflecting out of Sam's gaze. The other man had known that there'd been relationships before him. Hell, he'd had relationships before Dean…but he'd never before considered that those would haunt them at this point. It had sure as hell never occurred to him that one of those past sins would come back and try to destroy their lives. Dean's eyes clouded and he leaned back against the white linens as the memories overtook him.

Sam had seen Dean drift into memories so often over the course of their relationship that he recognized the signs. He just wasn't quick enough to pull Dean out before he was already descending into the dark twisted caverns of his past.

XXXX

They'd been sent on a night raid. Dawson had been added to Dean's squad on this particular assignment. Neither man had spoken of their physical relationship out loud. They'd meet up outside the lines of tents and then find a quiet spot where they'd spend the next twenty minutes ripping each other's fatigues off and satiated their sexual appetites. For Dean it was exactly what it appeared to be…a relationship built on sex and satisfaction. He wasn't looking for a long-term relationship. He'd not considered that it might be more that for Dawson. As he followed the insurgent teams, his medical pack slung carefully over his back and his M-16 pointed straight ahead, Dean wondered what this night had in store for them. He'd trained with the Special Forces teams, so he was a capable of performing those tasks as well as those assigned to him as a combat medic. But he preferred saving lives…not taking them.

His thoughts turned to Brandon Dawson. The young Texas native was brash and hotheaded with a blatant disregard for the rules…something that Dean could identify with. He was also 'hot' as hell. The guy had a body that would have made an Adonis cry. And he was as sexually active as Dean. They had an argument earlier that day about where this whole thing between them was heading. Dawson wanted something more and Dean was planning on getting out at the end of his tour. The fight had gotten physical and Dean had pinned the other man with a chokehold as he tried to talk some sense into him. It hadn't worked. Dawson had stomped out of the area, his face flushed with rage and embarrassment. "This isn't over Winchester." He shot back.

A noise off to his left pulled Dean's focus long enough for him to go in search out the origins. He nearly smiled when he saw a wayward goat eating a piece of a straw from a mattress in the corner of the hut. They'd been sent in to find a specific target. The man supposedly had knowledge of an impeding attack. Dean's purpose had been to ensure that the man was either fit to travel upon capture or dead. Nothing in between would be tolerated by the upper level brass…alive was preferable. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and he turned to recognize specialist Ricks. The kid was from Queens, New York and he had an attitude a mile wide…but his heart was bigger. He and Dean had become good friends over the last four months.

Ricks brought two fingers up and motioned toward a room that hadn't been cleared yet. Dean nodded and allowed the other man to slip past him, taking point. A hand touching his ass had Dean's eyes shifting and coming into contact with Dawson. He moved so he was right up against Dean. While it might have appeared to be a sexual move to the untrained eye, Dean knew it was an attempt to kept physical contact as they cleared the hut. Dawson pushed Dean behind him. Dean twisted his position so he was watching their 'six', his hip staying in contact with Dawson's as they moved forward as a well oiled machine.

A flash off to his right had Dean spinning and then the shit hit the fan. Two other squads had been clearing the area with their team and all Dean could make out was the muzzle flashes. He'd been knocked down by the blast, he'd assumed it was a grenade and that would explain the ringing in his ears. Dean had been thrown to the ground by the concussive blast, his hands clutching his rifle and he folded his body and rolled against the wall.

It only took a moment for him to realize that they'd walked into a trap. The entire platoon had wandered right into a stronghold for the enemy. Dean crawled forward, his elbows pushing through debris, as he stayed hunkered down. His eyes caught a lump two feet straight ahead of him; he wasn't able to identify what he was seeing immediately. The slick liquid that was suddenly soaking into his ACU's had Dean closing his eyes for a moment. A piece of an arm was laying to his right and the lump he'd seen had been a piece of Ricks.

Someone grabbing onto Dean's ankle had him turning over and trying to raise his weapon. A small boy wearing a large robe stared at him in fear. Dean sat up and put his hands in front of him in a placating gesture.

"Get out of the way Winchester." Dawson's harsh whisper cut through the darkness. Green eyes shifted and widened when he saw the other man pointing his handgun at the child. Dean immediately placed himself between the boy and the weapon.

"Dawson…what the hell are you doing?" Dean's own voice was raspy. He looked over at the frightened child.

"He's one of them, Dean…they all gotta die." There was no sanity in Dawson's voice as he stared with blank angry eyes at both the medic and the child cowering behind him.

"What the fuck man…he's a kid." Dean shot back.

"No…he'd gonna be one of them someday. Gotta kill him now." Dawson raised the weapon, but before he could fire, Dean's own bullet tore into the man's shoulder. He cried out in pain before he went over backwards. Dean rushed forward, not noticing that the boy had taken off in the commotion.

"I'm sorry man….but we can't shoot kids…it's not right." Dean said as he leaned over and pulled his kit from his back. He stopped the bleeding and secured a bandage that would keep Dawson stable until they could get to the combat hospital back at the QRF.

"I…can't believe you just shot me…Winchester." The other man drawled out angrily.

"You didn't exactly give me choice, Brandon." Regret was laced into the raspy response as he helped the other man to his feet. They started the slow progression out of the hut only to be stopped when they got to the doorway. There in the small yard was the boy, he was holding something and staring at the assembled Special Forces squads that hadn't been taken out in the initial blast.

Major Jesse Hunt looked in their direction and held his hand up to stop them. He was staring intently at the boy. "Come on son…you don't wanna do this." He gestured toward the gathered teams behind him. "These guys aren't your enemy."

The boy seemed to consider what the Major had said. He turned large brown eyes in Dean's direction. Something in them was the only warning that they had before the boy opened his hand to reveal a detonator. He opened his palm and the explosion was deafening. Dean and Dawson were blown back inside the hut, both men landing in a heap of tangled broken flesh.

Explosions of light were the next things that Dean remembered. He'd woken up in the hospital in Kandihar, it took days for him to be able to remember where he'd been and even longer to understand what had happened. Once his memory recovered, it was his body's turn to heal. He'd been seriously injured in the blast, a piece of shrapnel imbedding itself in his knee and left arm. He'd asked about his team…about Brandon. The psychiatrist had explained that the corporal had survived although he'd been burned pretty badly in the explosion.

Brandon had been in front of Dean when the device detonated. His body had taken the brunt of the fiery explosion, while Dean's body had taken the brunt of their fall as they'd been blown backwards. It had taken two weeks before the doctors would allow him to visit the other man.

Dean's first view of the man had been devastating. Brandon's beautiful face had been disfigured and his body was burned over thirty percent of the surface. His once warm chocolate colored eyes were now cold and filled with rage and resentment. He had turned toward Dean, his mouth a freak show of scorched skin and missing teeth. The left eye was red with blown blood vessels and his right arm was covered in white gauze bandages. Brandon's face hardened when he saw Dean leaning heavily on a pair of crutches as he debated on whether he should enter the man's room or not. Brandon's next words answered the question.

"You did…this…Dean…" He coughed and his once deep warm voice now resembled more of the wheezing rasp. "You killed…them." Brandon turned the full fury of his gaze on the medic. "You should have killed me too."

Dean's mouth worked as he stared at the other man. His words stuck in his throat as he contemplated how a person apologized for changing the course of another human's life. He'd made the decision based on his understanding of humanity. He honestly hadn't thought that the boy was a threat. "I never meant…" He limped forward. "Brandon…" Dean gulped.

"It's done, Winchester…just go." Brandon said as he turned away from Dean without another word.

Dean turned to go. He looked back at the man lying in the hospital bed. Brandon's body was covered with white bandages and he looked like a victim from one of the cheesy horror films that Dean loved. "I'm so sorry, Brandon." He whispered as he turned back toward the door and limped from the room.

He'd been required to spend months with the doctors after the deaths of the men in his squad. They'd determined that Dean suffered from Traumatic Brain Injury and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Because his enlistment had been nearly up, the army had allowed him to serve out the remaining three months stateside and the honorably discharged him.

Dean had immediately applied into Stanford, so he could be closer to Anna…and then as they say…the rest was history. He'd done his best not to think of Brandon. Dean would wake up in cold sweats, his body curled in on itself like he was hiding from the explosion. He was able to feel the uneven flesh of Brandon's ruined flesh as he tortured Dean with his guilt. Eventually, Sam's entry into Dean's life had alleviated most of those nightmares and Dean's involvement with the children at the cancer ward had been his own personal penance for his perceived sins.

XXXX

Sam listened and his heart grew heavy as he learned yet another thing about the man he'd loved for the better part of a decade that he hadn't known. He watched as the memory consumed Dean for a moment before he leaned forward and took Dean's fingers between his own large hands. "It was kid, Dean." He looked down when green eyes flashed over and the glassy gaze was full unshed emotions.

"But my men died because I made that call." He nearly choked as he continued. "All those people in the hospital died because I let that kid live." He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "This…all of this…is my fault. Brandon was right." The tears finally spilled and it was the worst thing that Sam had seen next to seeing Dean pinned to the floor of that closet. The pain that was nearly radiating from the doctor was impacting Sam as well. His own eyes burning with emotion as he leaned in and tried to hug Dean. He felt the smaller man stiffen for a moment before he relaxed against the warm embrace Sam was offering. Inside of those arms, Dean felt the absolution he'd sought in retelling this horrendous even in his life.

He'd never told anyone about that night. Anna didn't know he'd been injured while on active duty. She had no idea that he had a disability rating with the government or that he carried pieces of the shrapnel inside his kneecap. But as he shifted and lifted his gaze to meet the accepting and loving eyes of Sam he thought that he might just get past this tragedy too.

"Can you tell…agent Richardson…I'm not sure I can." Dean's voice was stretched thin with pain as he stared at Sam.

Sam nodded. "Now that he knows what he's looking for…he can probably get the investigation directly from the Army."

Dean inhaled and looked down at his hands.

"What did the investigation find, Dean?" Sam asked when Dean continued to avoid his gaze.

"The boy…he was the son of the man we were sent to collect. We couldn't have saved him…" The words sounded as though they'd been torn from Dean. "He'd been poisoned about Americans since his birth…"

"So you made the only call you could, based on the facts that you had?" Sam shifted and settled next to Dean's hip, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin on Dean's arm.

"It still cost too many lives…right decision or not." He swallowed thickly. "If I could do it again…I'd shoot that boy myself." It was the worst thing that Dean had ever said. He loved children and the idea that this one decision could have saved so many lives was damning, but it was also the choice he should have made.

"Oh…Dean…" Sam said as he stopped touching Dean and leaned in to kiss away the tears sliding silently down the pale freckled face. He leaned in and allowed Dean to simply cry as he tried to deal with the overwhelming sense of responsibility he felt. "Baby…it's going to be okay…I swear it is…" The growing lump in his throat was a testament to how much Dean's pain was a part of him. "We'll make this right." He felt Dean nod in his chest and the hitch in his breathing as he worked to control the rampant emotions. It only took a few moments before Dean slid his mask into place and turned brilliant green eyes in Sam's direction.

"Help me up?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows and started to protest, but the determined look on Dean's face told him that if he didn't help, then Dean would do it on his own. He reached in gently and helped to sit Dean up ignoring the pain that he saw reflected out of the smaller man's face. Sam slipped behind Dean, allowing him to lean against the larger chest of his partner and then handed him the phone. "Call Richardson…let's end this."

TBC…

Author's Note: Sorry this one has been on hiatus for a bit. But here is the descriptive chapter of what happened to prompt the bombing of the hospital. Dawson's reasoning will be fleshed out when he is confronted by Dean and Sam in later chapters. Don't worry we are still working toward the adoption and the eventual happy ending for these two. Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed the previous chapter. Hope you enjoy this one.

Please Review: Please take the time and let me know if you are still reading this one. Thanks