The bloody head brushed up against Sam's dress pants, leaving a lingering stain upon the inner flank of his leg. Sam scooted back as the blood matted short hair flopped against his knee, wobbling back and forth face down on the floor. His chest tightened from the impact upon his sternum, stilling his ability to breathe or move without painstaking effort. Truth be told, his abhorrence for the death he just witnessed stuck in his gullet just as much as his injury. With each passing moment, it felt as if the pressure in his chest was squeezing him like an empty can slowly being crushed for recycling. He flinched as if his airway was being crushed close as his body was captive to an ungodly chill. His head flooded with disorientation from his burning seeking air and the guilt from the grotesque sight before him.

His legs pumped him back several inches, but the head rolled against his ankle. The total shock wouldn't let his body scamper away fast enough. Just when Sam thought this moment would last forever, his underarms were gripped from behind. Someone rested his torso against them, pulling Sam to his haunches. Arms locked around him, Sam was pulled to his feet. Sam's legs buckled beneath him as he had lost the power to control his limbs. The head lobbed to the side and started at him with murky blue fixed eyes.

"Come on, come on. Can you walk?" The voice said urgently.

Still stunned, Sam barely registered the man's words or the fleeing panicked crowd. He was unable to look away at beheaded corpse. His mind whirled with guilt of failure and his blind disgust of having to see that. His voice felt clogged in the pipe of his throat. His body felt an unbearable sting in his chest cutting off oxygen to his body. The chills in his body froze him in shakes. He felt limp, but his arms and legs took direction from his rescuer's pull.

The gruesome scene grew smaller and more distant as his large frame was maneuvered down the hallway. Although Sam's ability to struggle was as fleeting as lightning, his liberator's determination was a wall of iron. His feet dragged heavily. Every so often, a black scuff mark transferred to the floor. Sam collapsed his energy into a single is one breathing, allowing the good samaritan to puppet his body. Sam's head fell upon the man's name tag. Sam could not even distinguish a lingering scent of bleach upon the man's uniform. His senses seemed to have abandoned him. The man battled to jerk Sam's titan frame out the automatic courthouse doors. "Come on.. Are you okay. What hit you!??"

Sam didn't answer the voice, but the voice's owner swung him around and flopped him upon the step. Grabbing his shoulders the man shook Sam. "Okay, focus on me. Come on. Are you hurt?!"

The constriction in his chest felt like a death wind, decaying his senses and making him numb. Sam transfixed eyes glazed as his true self was hidden behind a catatonic mask. His trance only broken when a hand grasped his chin. "Look at me. Are you okay!" When Sam locked eyes with the form in front of him, his breath came in a gasp.

"Okay, just breathe. Take it easy. It's all over! Where were you hit"

"I failed. He's dead because of me."

"No, look at me. This is not your fault. What hit you? I saw you go down. There was no way to protect anyone with that mass hysteria"

Sam nerves were on overdrive. The sight alone would have scared an ordinary man, but something else had affected him. The blow was not ordinary and had such obscene power behind it that Sam felt in his bones. The pressure building made it harder to breathe. The man squeezed his chin and shook lightly.

"I'm here. Look at me."

The fuzzy image form came into sharper focus and the lines of the blue janitorial uniform came into focus, then the his vision drifted to the concern face. Suddenly, Sam snapped back from the he mourned the appalling loss. Although his mind return to him, the vice in his chest squeeze tighter and the cold that encase his skin caused shivers.

"Dean "

"Yeah, I got you."

"I looked..for you. …Paul Winston….he's dead"

"I know. I tried to get to you and the defense team, but with your jackass friend, I had to keep a low profile."

"I failed. That man….he died…."

"When I saw that hea…"

"Shh… You went down hard."

"I swear Dean….all could think…what if…that …..you."

"I'm freaking indestructible."

"I failed him…He was innocent…and I let him….failed him….I should have….

"WE failed, Sammy! Where are you hurt?"

Sam took a deep uneasy raspy breath. "Cold……….uh…Chest...feels tight."

"Okay, just take it easy for a second." Dean unbuttoned the first few buttons in Sam's dress shirt. A scarlet handprint was apparent across Sam's breast bone. "Okay, whatever hit you, smacked you hard." The otherworldly hand print filled Dean with apprehension. The graceful handprint made him wonder if they were dealing with the spirit of a child or woman, but the brute force to create that mark would have to be taken the power of three muscle builders. Sam lurched as his breath stopped in his chest. "Okay, look at me. How bad are you hurting."

"I'm….fine….ugh." He sucked in a forced breath.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital."

"No, too…. many questions. This…. risky enough for you."

"Sammy, this looks bad."

"I'm… okay." Sam's lungs struggled to suck in air. "Just…knocked……..wind…ou…"

"Yeah, that's why you sound like a three pack a day smoker."

Before Sam could respond, he felt light headed and thick. "Dean...that man...I should have saved him."

"Alright Bucko, before you go out on me, put your head between your legs and breathe."

"What good…..is……that…… going….. to do."

"Works in the movies."

"D…ean"

"Just do it, Wheezie" Not allowing Sam to argue, Dean prompted Sam to rest his mop top noggin on his knees. It might not do any good, but if Sam was concentrating on breathing his mind was not on the failed hunt. Dean wasn't thrilled that they failed. Not only did it mean the death of an innocent man, it meant more covert time in courthouse.

"Sam, we know that Paul Winston was innocent and you did your damndest to prove it."

"As bait.. Dean."

"Sam, if not him….then it would have been someone else. That man was screwed until you got that lawyer and asshole junior involved.

"Dean…Ron….I know.. he's an assh…"

"Anyway Sam, he would have been rotting in jail without your help. We were trying to save him.

"But at least….he…..be alive."

"Sam, we don't know that."

"Only….innno…"

"I know Sam, but if we weren't here… it would never stop.. Sam you can't blame yourself…"

"Dean? ……………………Its not working…"

"Calm down, don't panic. Let's get to the hospital."

"No…I'll be."

Dean didn't wait for an argument, but balanced Sam's arm over his neck to pull him up. With one sharp gasp, Sam shuttered. His body toppled crashing back taking Dean with him.

"Sammy…no…no… no… we didn't do this undercover crap for this… Sammy!"