Sam jerked awake when Dave shouted. He could hear a boat approaching. He was so relieved he felt light headed. A team splashed ashore in seconds, and one of them sprinted ahead, pointing at Dean.

"That him?"

Almost before he could nod, the EMT pulled back the blanket and had slammed an epi-pen into Dean's thigh making Dean sit up and curse. The rest of the team, a burley guy and a woman, ran up with a stretcher and bags of equipment.

The first one in introduced himself as Mike. "Let me have him."

Sam reluctantly let go. Dean was on the stretcher with an oxygen mask in place and an IV in his hand before Mike had finished listening to his chest. He watched as a BP cuff and a blanket were put on his brother, and watched as Dean started to struggle when they began strapping him to the the stretcher.

Mike looked over at Sam. "What about his hand?"

"Burned while he was cooking. Look, can you not strap him down so tightly?"

Mike put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Have to. Gotta carry him, put him on a boat, and his muscle spasms could get worse and put him in the drink." He took Dean's temperature and called it out to his partners. "One oh two point three. Heartbeat erratic, pulse fifty-three, BP … ninety five over sixty." He started to ask Sam rapid fire questions, which Sam answered as quickly.

"What are all these scratches and … bites?"

"I'm not sure – he fell and got those."

"When was the last time he experienced anaphylactic shock?"

"December, no January 2004. I'm pretty sure."

"Was it to the same thing? Did he eat something? What's he allergic to?"

"No, no. A different animal. So far, its things with fur. And penicillin. Today it was a bear's den – got too much for him."

"Has he already had a shot?"

"Yeah – almost four hours ago. We only had one. Should have been enough but the symptoms came back before we could get to the car or get a call through."

"How long ago?" Mike stared at him, and then said over his shoulder, "We'd better be ready to intubate." He peeled back Dean's eyelids and flipped a pen light over his eyes.

Dean growled, "Gerroff me." He rolled his head, flexing his arms and legs. The mask made it hard to make out what Dean was saying, but it was perfectly clear when Dean thrashed again and yelled, "Sam!"

Sam was next to him in an instant, putting a hand on his chest. "Dean, you're alright. Relax. You've had a shot. You're going to the hospital. In a speed boat. You hear me? A speed boat. You need to be still for the ride." Dean was muttering under the mask. "What?" He lifted the mask.

"Tell Jill no chopper. I mean it. You stop her this time."

Sam set the mask back in place and smiled fondly at his brother. "You got it, Dean. I promise. Just enjoy the ride."

The EMT pulled Sam to one side. "We need to start him on steroids and antihistamines. What else has he had today?" Sam handed him the blister pack of benedryl. "He had four of these, about an hour apart, the last two about two, maybe three hours ago."

"That would help explain why he's so lethargic but there's something else going on with him. His blood pressure should have bottomed out by now. His pupils are dilated and that could be the shock ... did he have anything else?"

Sam had been watching one of the other EMTs re-bandage Dean's hand, but that brought his head back. "I gave him some hot chocolate. He also been breathing steam – the water had aromatic herbs in it." He straightened his back, and took a deep breath. "And I gave him cocaine. Not much, I only had about as much as this," he demonstrated the amount on the tip of his little finger. "I don't know how much it was. I put it on his gums a little bit at a time until it was gone, about an hour and a half ago."

Mike nodded. "Do you have any cocaine on your person now?"

"No, no, and Dean never had any. A friend gave it to me. I was going to throw it away …" he looked over at Dean then back at Mike.

"Good then." He smiled for the first time. He raised his voice to his partners. "Start the hydrocortisone, hold the benedryl, and let's roll." Sam dodged after him to the boat.

"I need to come with him."

The burley guy grinned and said, "No problem. We'll have to strap you to the seat though." He pointed at the woman carrying bags toward the boat. "She drives like a demon."

Sam watched as they locked Dean's stretcher into place and pulled a protective transparent shell over his head and shoulders.

"Mike, why did you say you were going to prepare to intubate? He's already better and he's with you. He won't get worse, will he?"

"Probably not, but rebounds happen. You did the best you could, and man, you did really well because he's alive and breathing, but he's got a lot of stuff in him, and way too much benadryl. I'd like to let the doc at the hospital make the decision about adding anything else to the cocktail. And they'll probably ventilate him there even if just to reduce stress. If there's an emergency and his throat closes up while we're in transit, we might not be able to get a tube in him. If that happens, we'll have to trach him. But in a moving boat - let's hope I don't have to do either."

Sam could feel his eyes getting wider and he started to feel nauseous.

Mike grabbed his arm and said, "Are you OK? Why don't you sit down before you fall down?" He gave Sam a hand into the boat and into a seat and started attaching a harness around him. Mike tugged on the straps. "Don't mess with this – she really does drive like a maniac. We'll leave as soon as she finishes calling in. We'll meet the ambulance at the dock in about fifteen minutes, the hospital is another ten minutes from there. I'll be right next to your brother the whole way. We got him. Try to relax."

The chai girl from the canoeing party ran up, splashing to the boat to hand him his duffel and the shirts he'd left on the beach. He couldn't move to get the sweatshirt off. "How can I get this back to you?"

"Don't worry. I'll visit you in the hospital."

"Please tell everyone we said thanks." There was no time to say more as the boat roared to life. He hung on to the seat and his stomach as the boat reared up on it's stern, and accelerated at a heart stopping speed. Emergency lights lanced out into the darkness around the boat, adding eerie reflections across the water. The boat began slapping against the water, the impact so strong he thought he could feel his teeth coming loose. Ice cold water sprayed into his face, and his hair was streaming straight out behind him.

He could make out lights on the sides of the river, he even caught sight of a campfire, and above them was the Milky Way burning a swath across the sky. He glanced over at Dean and Mike, hair whipping into his eyes. Mike grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

The relief, the boat - it was incredible. He wanted to put his arms up and scream at the top of his lungs, like he was on the best ride at the amusement park. Before he realized it, he was grinning and laughing out loud.


"So, I can't leave until when?" Dean rubbed his throat.

"Tomorrow afternoon, and then another day at the motel before we leave town." Sam looked at him earnestly. He had to admit the kid always did earnest well.

"Sam, I'm fine …"

Sam stepped to the side of the bed. "Yeah, right."

Dean looked up at him, and opened his mouth, "What, fine? I am fi…"

"You said that in the woods. You said that at the campsite. Now you're saying it when they just took you off the ventilator. You were on it all night, Dean!"

He rolled his eyes. "How could I forget? I woke up with it down my throat and you hovering over me." He cleared his throat, and coughed. He glowered at his brother. "And you promised you wouldn't let them ventilate me. So much for that."

"I promised you I wouldn't let Jill put you on a chopper. You didn't say anything about a ventilator." Sam crossed his arms and seethed right back at him.

"I didn't? Oh." He looked toward the window. "I wish I had, then. It feels like they rubbed my throat with sandpaper."

Sam immediately looked contrite. "Do you want some ice chips?" He held out a cup.

"No, damn it, what I want is a cup of coffee." He grudgingly took the cup from Sam in his left hand. He held up his right hand and picked at the bandaging. "And this hurts like a bitch."

"The doctor said he would help with the pain once you were awake and not in respiratory distress. He'll be here in a few minutes. Rounds are around now."

"You know his schedule? You started medical school without telling me?"

"Quiet." He glared at Dean. "Don't interrupt. Eat your ice chips. With all the drugs they used to save your life – steroids, antihistamines, fluids, epinephrine, vasopressors … antibiotics for the infected bites, shock, treatment for your fever, the burn on your hand …"

Dean watched fascinated. Sam practically had steam coming out of his ears, waving his hands around and pointing at all the bad places on Dean's body. He wasn't done though.

"… What with all of that, the doctor never once said being pissy was one of the side effects you would experience when you woke up." He took a breath and looked a little shocked.

Dean tried not to smile. "What's a vasopressor?"

That brought Sam up short. He looked at Dean and then down at his hands. "I don't know." He brought his head back up, smiling now, one dimple showing.

"Well, I'm sure it was important. I'm sorry I scared you, Sam. Hell, I scared myself in there too. I'll stay put until tomorrow. I'm not going to be much good in a hunt with a bad right hand anyway."

"Don't lie, I've seen you shoot with your left hand."

He sighed and glanced up at Sam. "OK, maybe I can't drive with only one hand or eat with one hand. Give me an out here." He smiled and tapped Sam's arm. "I'll stay put because you want me to. And the insurance holds out." He rubbed his eyes. "When's the doc going to get here again? My chest is killing me."

Sam hit the call button and told the nurse that called back that his brother needed something for pain. He pulled his chair closer to the bed.

Dean identified the look on Sam's face – anxious, with just a dash of embarrassment.

Sam said, "As soon as the doctor finishes, I need to leave. I'll be gone about three or four hours … since you're up, I figure I can take the time safely."

"Sure, Sam. I won't melt while you're gone."

Sam huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, I know but I'm still going to worry until I'm back … but you'll be fine, and you can always call me, right, and I've got a ride to the Impala … and I'll be back, like I said, in a couple of hours."

"I didn't know we were that far away. OK, but don't put a scratch on her." Sam still looked worried. "What?"

"We aren't that far away, really, but I've got to collect the weapons bag."

Dean thought that sounded ominous but he asked with a false calm. "Why do you have to collect it?"

"I left it back at the campsite. I just have to walk up there and back."

"You … left the weapons bag? Anyone could find it … crap, my Colt's in it, isn't it?" He shook his head and chewed some ice. "I bet your Taurus is snugged up safe but my gun, my favorite gun, is out there all alone …" He knew it was going to hurt, but he finally had to laugh out loud at Sam's expression. He gasped and held his ribs. "Sam, come on. I've had to toss that bag on top of buildings, under cars, in sheds, doghouses, hell, it's gone into a dumpster more than once."

Sam laughed, but he was clearly still anxious about something.

"What is the matter with you?" Before he could push Sam for an answer, they both heard a sound at the door and a doctor came in.

Sam stood and shook the man's hand. "Dean, this is Dr Adams. He's been treating you since we arrived."

Dean nodded to the doctor who stepped forward to the bed. "I understand you're in some pain. Understandable considering the strain you've been under and your burn. Let me check a few things and then we'll fix you up." He called in a nurse who took his temperature, blood pressure, and pulse while the doctor poked and prodded, listened to Dean's breathing, checked his eyes, and conferred with the nurse briefly. She left the room.

"I've got you on IV fluids and Clindamycin for the bites, but we've stopped everything else. Your stats are good, heart rate normal and steady, and your temperature is holding at about one hundred. And we are twenty four hours out from your last episode." The nurse came in with a syringe which she injected into Dean's IV. "All very good signs. An anaphylactic rebound is highly unlikely, but considering your time on the ventilator, the burn, the bites and scratches, and the unorthodox methods your brother used to keep you alive … I want you to stay another day to give my colleagues a chance to see you, if nothing else." He smiled broadly.

Dean said, "Unorthodox?" He blinked a few times. "What was unorthodox?" He looked at Sam who looked down at his hands. "Sam, do we have something to talk about?"

"Let Sam tell you later. It's a great story. Right now, I want you to relax. I just gave you a mild sedative and pain killer. I wanted that on board before Dr. Ropert comes in to work on that hand." He smiled at Dean. "Once we check you out of here, you're back to Tylenol or Advil, but until then, we can give you the good stuff." He made a few notations in the Dean's chart. "I'll see you later today." He turned to Sam. "Alison's waiting in the hall. I think you're safe to go."

Dean was starting to lose track of the conversation but one thing stood out. "Alison?"

Sam didn't look at him, instead he said to the doctor, "No, I'll stay with him while they treat his hand."

"Sam, you really don't want to do that." Adams waved a hand in Dean's direction. "Even with the shot, it's going to be extremely painful for him. And we'd make you leave the room anyway."

"Riiiight … here. Pretty sure." Dean rubbed his face and opened his eyes wider. "Who's Alison?"

Adams laughed. "My daughter. She met Sam at your camp. They're going out today for lunch." Adams clapped Sam on the shoulder before walking out.

He rolled his head toward Sam and grinned. "A date for lunch? And you've already impressed the parents. Good job, Sam. Is she hot?"

Sam flushed a bright right. "She's nice, Dean. That means a lot … to me at least. And it's not really a date."

"So, not hot." He yawned. "Go get tofutti or whatever it is you healthy people eat. Sprouts and um, sprouts. I'm going to …" He yawned again. "Enjoy the good stuff while it lasts."

Sam took a step toward the door and then looked back at the bed.

Even drugged, Dean knew that look. "Get out of here. I don't want you here if I cry." He suddenly remembered something. "Sam, wait, just a minute."

Sam almost ran back to the bed. "What is it?"

"Find out if she knows Heather, OK?"

Sam smiled and laughed. "You bet. We'll go back to that bar when you're out of here."

Dean closed his eyes and said, "Super. Great jukebox."


A/N: Please be assured that I would never suggest or condone the use of an illicit drug. The drug is a dopamine re-uptake inhibitor which acts upon the body in a like manner to adrenaline. In the fantasy world in my head, that, and lots of antihistamines, made this plausible.

A/N 2: Heather's request was this: I would love to see a continuation from Canaveral. Since each exposure causes more intense allergic reactions I would love to see anaphylactic Dean. Perhaps a hunt in the woods where it will take some time to get to medical help...the epi-pen will slow down the severity of the attack but generally for only 10-20 minutes. Sam of course has an epi-pen but Dean removed his to make room for peanut m&ms.

I admit I made one teensy little change by replacing the M&Ms with a big guy with scales. What? That's tiny! Ahem. But other than that, Heather, I hope I've hit the mark.

Phoebe