The room was dark and sticky. Sam fumbled one-handed for the light switch, his hunter-instincts on full alert. For the first time he was painfully aware of his vulnerability without a weapon. He still didn't know who or what had poisoned Dean.
Bright light illuminated the room.
Sam gasped at the sight in front of him. Only a few steps away from the door lay Dean belly-down on the floor, one lax hand still curled around his cell. If he was breathing the motion was too shallow to notice.
"Oh god, Dean!" Sam crouched next to the motionless form, shaking fingers feeling for a pulse.
TBC…