Mistake
Dean Winchester knelt on the floor trying desperately, without luck to get any sort of response out of his little brother. Sam, however just sat there in what appeared to be a foetal position, rocking back and forth, shaking uncontrollably. The younger's head was downcast, and Dean was pretty sure that if he was to lift it, he would be staring at dead hollow eyes. The elder rubbed his hand repeatedly over his face. He had seen Sam confused, broken and in need of saving…but the Sam he faced scared him. The Sam he faced was barely a shell of his former self.
'If only'. Dean had promised himself hours earlier that he wouldn't let those two words dictate the current situation but there was no way in hell he could stop pondering them.
If only he had made his younger sibling heed his advice to stay behind and catch up on some well needed rest.
If only he had kept a closer eye on Sam and realised that he was rapidly reaching boiling point.
If only he wasn't as self centred and realised the hazardous toll Sam's visions were taking on him.
If only he had been there…
But now all Dean could do kneel next to Sam and try to ignore the fact that his brother's face was now the same shade as the bleached white curtains behind him…try to ignore that he had been shaking for what had to be over an hour… try to ignore rhythmic rocking.
Dean mentally braced himself for something he had been intending to do for hours. Tentatively he reached out and grabbed his brother's arm. He felt the younger's body tense.
"Sam…"
0o0o0o0o0o0
72 hours earlier
"So what have you got?"
Dean flashed him a grin, and held up a cocktail napkin, with inky writing on it. "Her number…"
Sam raised his eyebrow. "You've got to be kidding me, are you capable of – of…"
"Sam?"
"I…head…" the younger managed to blurt out before his vision erupted into flashing white. He moved his hand to his forehead, then down to pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt his chest constrict and then his head try to implode. The onslaught of the visions lately had been more taxing then in the past. They came quickly, and left just a viciously and suddenly as they arrived. It appeared this one was the same, if not worse.
Dean swore under his breath as he watched his brother deal with the onslaught of the vision. As he moved to steady Sam, he was slightly taken aback when his brother's fists began to subconsciously beat at his head. "Whoa, easy Sammy." Dean grabbed both his brother's wrists, firmly and held them away from Sam's head. "Jesus, Sammy. Calm down, okay? It's just a vision." His words were lost on his brother; Sam just continued to struggle against his hold. A few moments later Dean felt his brother's body slack.
"Damn it Sam, you scared the crap out of me. What the hell did you see?"
"…Wha – what happened?"
"What?" This was new. "Sam, you don't remember?"
Sam pushed both his hands over his forehead. "What am I supposed to remember?"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine." It wasn't exactly the truth. His head was throbbing and it felt like his brain was trying to collapse in on itself. "What happened?"
"You had a vision," Dean paused, "I think. You don't remember anything?"
"Oh God. Blood. There was blood everywhere."
"Blood. Anything else?"
"No."
"What no people, no place, no anything else, just blood?"
"Yes."
Dean frowned. Usually Sam would see or remember more than just one aspect. Usually he could recall almost every detail to the point that it was just plain scary. "C'mon Sam, lets get you back to the motel."
0o0o0o0o0o0
"Sammy are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Dean raised his eyebrow. "You should get some rest. You look dead on your feet."
Wordlessly Sam walked around to the nearest bed. He rolled on his side so that there was no possible way that his brother could determine if he was asleep or not.
Dean watched his brother settle himself in before pulling out their laptop. He paused. Sam had given him one word, 'blood'. He couldn't just google it and hope to find some clue as to what Sam saw. Sighing, he opened up a game of solitaire, casting frequent, concerned glances towards his younger sibling.
Sam stared at the clock, it was just after ten. He was tired, though he would never admit it. After Jess he had rarely slept, fearing rightly so that he would be haunted by nightmares of her death. Now he had just fallen into a pattern of having as little sleep as possible and trying to survive on it. Sam adjusted his position before the darkness claimed him.
The elder smiled slightly as he heard his little brother's breathing even out. Sam was finally asleep. He closed the laptop and moved towards the other bed. He paused. "Sammy, you okay?" Sam was sweating and had just begun to thrash around in his bed. "Sammy!" Dean reached out and grabbed both his brother's arms. "Sam!"
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