When I saw Sam fall, it all came rushing back; Cold Oak, Stull, the myriad of times I thought him dead or dying, lost to me forever.
Like a giant redwood struck by lightning he tottered, then began to topple.
Time slowed to a standstill, all I could see were his hands moving to cover the wound, the bright red blood already beginning to seep between his trembling fingers.
He looked down at his belly, then lifted his eyes to meet mine. Sam wasn't new to suffering, fuck, he'd been tortured by Satan himself, but it was me who couldn't accept his pain. Not any longer!
In empathy, I could feel the agony of his wound gouging itself into my flesh.
My Sammy was hurting. I had to get to him.
:
An image of Hulk bulking up and turning green with rage, filled my consciousness. It was how I felt as the heads of the three vamps hit the floor, rolling away like burst footballs.
I threw down the machete and slid to my knees. 'Sammy, please,' I murmured in a choked voice, brushing back the chestnut curls. 'C'mon dude. Don't leave me. Don't you ever leave me.'
Sam tried to focus, to reassure me with a pained smile, his vulnerability a flaming arrow to my heart.
'I'll never leave you, Dean,' he managed to utter before his eyelids fluttered and closed.