Dean felt it. Damn did he feel it!
"'s'alright!"
"Dean?"
He hitched a breath.
"It's okay Sammy! Don't worry."
He heaved. Sammy was getting closer. He heaved… and huffed and heaved some more. Long, slim, Sammy-type fingers curled around the edge of the abyss. Sam was safe.
He breathed.
"Dean."
"Wha…?"
"I'm okay."
"I know. Sorry Sammy. Bad dream."
Dean rolled over and hitched a breath. If everything was okay, why did his chest feel like his heart and lungs had been wrenched out?
If everything was okay, why did Sam have to wake him every night to tell him he was okay?