Chapter 2: Rattled

The next morning Sam woke up to find that Dean was half sitting, half laying on what little of the small bed his body didn't occupy. He was asleep, his hand still on Sam's chest and his head lying against his on the pillow. The pain was there, as he'd expected, but not nearly as bad as it probably should have been. Sam smiled slightly at the kink Dean would have in his neck. He knew Dean had given up his notion of comfort to help and he was grateful. Part of him was irritated, mad at himself, that he was always doing this to Dean. Sam raised his free hand to Dean's where it rested on his chest. He squeezed gently and it was enough to bring Dean fully awake. He sat up and his neck popped. Sam winced for him.

"Hey. You okay?"

"I think so. Thirsty." Sam's voice sounded foreign to his ears as he struggled to sit up on the bed. Dean pushed him back down.

"You just relax. I'll get you some water." Dean moved off and soon returned with a disposable cup full of cool water. He lifted Sam's head without question as Sam found himself too weak to do it himself. Sam gulped the water until Dean pulled it away. "Easy, you'll make yourself sick."

"Thanks Dean."

"Don't mention it. Just rest. You need it." Dean took the water away, dumping the rest down the bathroom sink and putting the cup next to Sam's toothbrush. Sam forced himself upright on the twin bed, still favoring his casted wrist even thought it had been three weeks since it was broken; knowing he'd earn Dean's wrath, but this couldn't wait any longer. Dean heard the movement on the bed and turned, glaring at Sam.

"Are you ever gonna listen to me, Sammy?" It was asked quietly.

"Dean, this vision- it's something we gotta check out. You know …"

Dean interrupted him. "That was one of the worst ones yet. I had to watch you writhe and gasp for breath. Hell, I had to coach you through the pain to keep you breathing! I…Dammit Sam, these things take you too far away from me." He fell to the other bed, the one he'd managed to get half a decent night's sleep in, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I don't know how to reach you when they take you that far away. It… it scares me, Sammy, like nothing else. You being that out of it, that far gone that one day I'm not gonna get you back." Dean sounded broken, in pain himself, but the nuance in his voice that caught Sam's attention was one of fear- closer to terror. It galvanized Sam into action.

Still unsteady on his feet, Sam stood and crossed the scant three feet to Dean's bed. Dean was now studying the threadbare beige carpeting as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. His hands were folded between his knees, white knuckled as they shook, and his elbows rested on his thighs. Sam sat down beside him and mimicked the gesture, his good hand curling around his white clad wrist. Even his hands were shaking, more from weakness and concern for Dean than fear for his life. He knew Dean would just always be there, that Dean could always reach him, no matter how far away he was pulled by the visions.

Sam was close enough to Dean that their shoulders touched, that was all, but it was enough for Dean to relax. Sam felt the tension swamping him abate just enough that maybe Dean would listen.

"Dean, you have always been able to reach me. My entire life you've been the only one that could pull me back and get me through. Remember the poltergeist in Montana that put me in the hospital, comatose?" Sam bumped shoulders with Dean again, gaining a response from him.

"Yeah, I remember. You were fourteen. I was on a hunt a couple towns over, my second one by myself."

"The docs said I had no chance of coming out of it. Said I was too deep. Dad had given up after the docs had to sedate him and set the knuckles he'd broken after punching the hospital's tile wall. You came on a call from Josh. You sat and talked to me for two weeks straight, no concern for yourself. You…"

"Who told you I did that?"

"Joshua. The point is, Dean, you did reach me. When I was as far away as I could get, you still reached me. The first thing I could remember was your voice. It wasn't as deep as it is now, but the tones still broke through to me. You saved me then Dean, and you always will. Just by talking. You know what you said that was the first thing I heard?"

"No. What was it?"

"You were telling me to keep breathing. You promised me that if I did, you would get me a cheeseburger from that place that had the burgers we liked so much. You said we would hit the arcade there and hustle them out of half their good prizes. You kept that promise even though you weren't sure I'd even heard it."

"Yeah." Dean breathed a laugh. "I guess I did. That's how you got your first basketball. I spent two weeks teaching you to shoot hoops while Dad was out hunting. He wouldn't let me go on any more hunts alone, and he refused to take you because you got hurt on his watch. You were so short you couldn't dunk." Dean laughed now and Sam knew he'd be okay, which was good because Sam was now having a hard time staying upright. He wavered and bumped shoulders with Dean again. He couldn't stop the shaky breath he took from being audible to Dean's ears. His brother was on the move, hoisting him to his feet and supporting almost all his weight as he helped Sam get back to his bed.

He lowered Sam to the bed and put his bare feet up. Pulling the covers over him he said, "Get some rest. I'm not gonna tell you again." Dean watched as Sam rolled onto his right side. Sam had his fiberglass sporting right arm jutting out off the edge of the bed and had his left forearm resting over his right elbow. His left hand went up to shield his eyes from the sunlight that streamed through the window. Dean thought it was more to ease the pain that still had Sam's brain in a vice, the way Sam pressed the butt of his palm to his forehead. Sam breathed that sigh and his lights were out. Dean pulled the drapes shut and looked at Sam again.

"Thanks, kiddo. You know what I needed." Dean whispered as he turned away and went to take some Tylenol for his very stiff neck. He showered and dressed, spending the morning quietly, halfheartedly looking for a case on the laptop. He knew that whenever Sam was strong enough to tell him about that vision- God I hate it when he suffers through one of those damn things - that would be the case they took.