Holding on

"Hang on, Sammy!" Deans' voice is strained almost to the point of breaking as he fishes around for the sweet wrapper that must be somewhere in his pocket and thank god, it is made of plastic. He unfolds it with shaking, bloody fingers, smoothing it out as best as he can and then presses it to the puncture wound in his brothers' chest where air bubbles keep welling up along with the blood. Cas looks sceptical. "This will keep his lungs from collapsing?" Dean nods mutely. "I'm sorry I can't help." Cas murmurs, picking up Sam's limp hand to hold.