The title and the summary are taken from Snow Patrol's song: 'If there's a rocket tie me to it'. So that means I don't own anything. Not the song, not the title, not the summary and especially not Sam and Dean.

Enjoy…

"Sammy!"

Nothing but the pounding rain, thunder and lightning reached his ears. Nothing but silence and fear. Nothing but horror of 'where's Sam?'

"Sam!"

Nothing but harsh wind cutting into his cheeks and cold rain drops piercing his skin. Hitting his head, hitting his neck, hitting his face, hitting his chest… hurting in their strength, drilling deep into his flesh.

"Sam!"

Running as fast as he could, as fast as the muddy ground allowed him… sinking into the dirt, sinking into the earth so deep, he almost lost his shoes.

No breath, no air… nothing but darkness and thunder. Nothing but slippery floor and rain… no air. No nothing.

"Sam!"

Silence of the wet woods, silence of the lightening and the deafening thunder… in his heart, in his ears, in his… mind.

"Sammy!"

He gripped the gun tighter, not letting it slip from his hands and he ran. Over rocks, over branches, over plants, over tree trunks that were laying on the floor, over his feet, over his heart and over his ability to think.

"Sam!"

Almost breathless now, his chest tightening, his legs trembling, his arms flailing… almost on the verge of collapsing and giving in. Almost…

His flashlight was a useless piece of crap, its light only illuminating a small space in front of his legs. Nothing more. He was stuck… stuck in the darkness of the woods, with tall trees laughing at him, mocking him with Sam.

Removing one thick branch, which was in his way, before his head would hit it, he cursed. He didn't know where he was supposed to go, in which direction, and that squashed his heart in his chest and made a sob escape him. One little, unheard sob… lost in the noise the rain drops were making… hitting leaves, hitting trees, hitting the floor, hitting him.

"Sam…"

Weaker now, almost on the edge… going down into the freezing pit of despair. Lost his brother, lost his life, lost his…mind. Lost his breath… lost everything.

"Sammy!" deep and loud, taking out from the last resources of strength he had in him.

"…eyes."

"Sam?"

His heart quickened, his feet stopped and his eyes searched around himself. Frozen on his spot, somewhere between a rock and a tree, he heard it again…

"your… eyes."

"Sammy?"

He looked around himself, quick glances into the darkness behind him, slow looks into the dark space before him… nothing. Nothing but silence and rain.

"Open your eyes."

"Sam?"

"Dean."

The raindrops hitting his eyelashes made his eyes close just for one second, just to get his bearing back, just to draw in air that was never really there.

One long streak of lightening over the thick, black sky and his breath hitched, stuck in his throat, stuck on the word Sammy.

"Sammy?"

"Okay, 's good, you're good, Dean."

Words were tumbling out of Sam's mouth, hitting each other in their haste.

With no clear intention, almost as an automatic response to waking up, he gripped Sam's wrist that was hovering above his chest and squeezed. His fingers found Sam's pulse point beneath the thin skin there.

The swiftness of the motion caught Sam unprepared, the tight grip Dean had on his wrist only allowed him to mutter a soft: "Dean?"

Sam's eyes were huge and then small, teary and shiny in the dim light of the room. But his pulse was vibrating, fast flutter beneath Dean's fingertips. Alive. Here.

Relaxing. Breathing. Falling asleep in a soft bed behind his back with Sam's pulse still a rhythmic lullaby beneath his fingertips.

The End.