A/N: Word: chest. I wrote this ages ago and never posted it. Bad author!
Dean couldn't believe how quickly the poison spread. He tried to hide from Sam how much it hurt. Judging by the panicked look on his brother's face, he didn't hide it well.
"Dean? Stay with me."
"Trying, Sammy. Think I might've been poisoned."
"Poisoned? You sure."
"Pretty sure. Feel weird."
Simply breathing was too hard, the pressure in his chest unbearable. Last thing he heard was Sam making a call and then, "Dean? Dean! Hang on, Dean. The ambulance is on its way."
He learned the hard way to never accept gifts from strange hunters.