I do not own Supernatural...still
Sam leaned against the tiled wall of the bathroom, desperate for any kind of coolness against his skin. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he desperately tried to catch some air. His body shook.
Please...please, snap out of it.
Sam glanced down at his phone as it suddenly buzzed. Dean.
Dude, if you aren't back in two minutes your pint will be in my stomach x
Sam took two deep breaths. He knew he was unable to talk but dialed Dean's number, allowing it to ring out, hoping he would get the message.
Oh, shit, shit, shit. I can't breathe. I'm going to die.
"Sammy"
Dean was in the bathroom within seconds. He glanced at his brother on the floor, his breathing hollow [scarily so] and knew immediately what was happening.
Oh shit, Sammy. Don't do this to me...
"It's okay, Sammy." Dean knelt next to his brother, amazed by how calm is voice sounded despite his thudding heart. "We can deal with this. Like we always used to do. Are you with me, Sammy?"
A nod. Dean smiled.
"Atta boy, Sammy...Sam."
"Sam...Sammy."
"What?"
"You, you...can call me...Sammy."
Dean gulped once and nodded wordlessly.
"Right you are, Sammy. Now listen, take my hand."
Sam reached for his hand and Dean grasped it.
"Good boy, Sammy. Now... I want you to squeeze. Squeeze the hell out of my hand, Sammy. You know the drill."
Sam nodded slightly and squeezed.
"Good boy, Sammy. Now. Every time you squeeze, take a breath in. Okay? Ready?"
Another nod.
"Okay, Sam. Squeeze and breathe."
Sam did so, his breath shaky.
"Good. Again. Squeeze and breathe, Sammy."
Again, Sam did so. This time his breath more steady.
"Good...now, again, Sam..."
Within a couple of minutes Sam's breathing became more steady. His grasp on Dean's hand loosened slightly. Dean smiled slightly. They were nearly back on track.
"Sam?" Dean's voice sounded almost as shaky as Sam's. "Sammy?"
Sam's eyes closed. His breathing...almost stopped.
Optimism is so cruel when it is shot down so fast.
"Sammy. Oh, Sammy. No...no, Sammy...please..."
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