"Sam."
"Yeah?" Sam didn't turn around. In a brief respite from researching, he was deeply engrossed looking up people he knew from college on MySpace.
"Sam!"
Annoyed, Sam dragged his attention away from the screen.
"What?"
As he turned, he saw his brother pinned to his bed by a gigantic dark green claw, which was attached to a huge, heavily muscled, shiny-skinned arm that curled out from underneath Dean's bed.
"Fuck!" Sam started towards the bed but stopped and went instead to the weapons bag, rummaging hurriedly though it.
"Hurry up Sam!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
He found the axe he had been looking for and, standing over the bed, using both arms, he raised it over his head.
"Stop!"
"What? Why?"
Dean was lying very pale and still, hardly daring, or able, to breathe. Four huge, curved claws were embedded in his torso, spanning the base of his sternum down to his abdomen. A fifth "thumb" claw penetrated his side, at his waist. Strangely, after the initial lightning fast whir of motion, when the enormous thing emerged from underneath the bed and sunk its claws into him, there was no further movement from the beast.
Sam could see Dean's lips moving and had to concentrate to make out the whispered words.
"... don't know …what it is." Beads of sweat had broken out on Dean's forehead. His arms were splayed to either side of the bed, hands gripping the blankets.
"What? No! I'll get it off you and then we can deal with it!" Sam raised the axe and brought it down across the wrist of the beast, severing the mighty clawed hand from its gargantuan arm. The axehead was buried in the mattress.
The severed claw instantly convulsed - dragging Dean into a ball, knees curling up and shoulders lifting off the mattress. It looked for all the world like he was protecting a grotesque foetus as his arms wrapped around his torso, enveloping the vicious hand.
Sam had a moment where Dean's life flashed before his eyes. Every time his brother had put a band aid on a cut, every time he had winked when Sam was cheeky but clever. Every time Dean had stepped in to protect him from bullies at whatever school he was at. Every time their dad was too harsh. Every single time he had wanted something, Dean had been there, doing his damned best to make sure he got it.
Oh shit, shit, shit!
Every instinct told Sam to go straight to Dean, but a lifetime of training made him look under the bed.