Hi I'm back… I'm really in a good mood today, really. I only have two more exams to take and it's summer and it's hot and the sea is cold and the ice creams are delicious and because I can't share all that with you, I thought I would share a new chapter. I'm sorry if it's not good, I tried my best under circumstances.
Oh and I need a beta is shy. My beta went on holidays and I don't want to bother her, so…I only have a few chapters to write of this story and I need someone to check my spelling and other things…or else you'll be suffering from flaws and mistakes. smiles I won't bother you much, I just need someone to check my mistakes. If you know someone who would be able to do that, I would really appreciate it… I have no idea how this things work, so you know…help?! Puppy dog eyes
Well, enjoy…please
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CHAPTER 14:
Dean ran out on the soft evening air, leaving the store clerk to his comic and quickly made his way towards the bathroom he saw Sam go to earlier.
"Sam, I told you five minutes!" he called when he came around the corner.
When the angry sentence brought no response he tried again: "Sam?" With a little fear to that name, but still…no response.
He knocked on the door, a small brown piece of broken wood and didn't wait for a reply. He tried to twist the doorknob but it didn't budge.
"'M coming in. You decent or not…"
A kick at the door send him almost twirling into the room, splinters flying around the place.
"Sam?! Sammy!"
His eyes didn't adjust to the dim light right away and that send him into a frantic calling for his brother.
When his eyes gave him the permission to see his brother he wished he could have stayed blind for just a microsecond more.
It was a small one toilet and one sink-kind of a room, just big enough for one person to fit in it, not two and a broken door.
And it smelled. Bad. Dean gagged and put the back of his hand to his mouth. The walls were dressed in light yellow tiles, the floor solid concrete and the toilet, as far as Dean could see, was stuffed with things he did not want to take a closer look at and some…paper.
Somewhere among the mess was his brother's form, cramped between the toilet and the little sink that was filled with black hair and some yellowish snort looking thing.
"Sammy, God."
He stepped one short step toward Sam and crouched in front of him.
He took Sam's head between his hands and raised it. His cheeks were clammy, his hair plastered to his forehead, eyes half open and unfocused. He slid his left hand to Sam's forehead, slowly raising Sam's mop of hair and felt only cold.
No fever. That's a good thing, right?
Sam's whole body was shaking but where Dean's hand touched him, he felt warm, hot, here. The touch was like a calling from a place he knew he should go to but didn't have the strength to.
"Sam? Hey, look at me."
-:-
Leroy lying on the bed, shaking, freezing…
-:-
He tried to coach, but Sam's head was swaying on his neck, no leverage, no strength to keep it upright. Dean held tighter, almost squishing Sam's cheeks but he needed some sort of a response from the kid. If only to put his own mind at ease.
"Sam, come on. Look at me."
-:-
Eyes almost dead to the world, looking at the ceiling but seeing nothing. Frostbites along his hands, his lips dark blue.
-:-
He lowered his eyes to meet Sam's, when they opened in full, revealing the brown darker than chocolate.
"Focus, come on." A little desperation, a little worry, maybe even some annoyance because…come on why does this shit have to happen to Sam?
Sam blinked slowly trying to adjust to the cold seeping into him through every pore.
"Sam? Did you have a vision?"
Need to know, Sammy 's all.
A moan reached Dean's ears and he knew it came not as an answer to his question but as an involuntary response to him shaking Sam's head.
"Sam? Vision?"
Sam's lack hand, that left her previous position in his lap, shot up and grabbed his right wrist.
"Sam?" he lowered his voice, for Sam's ears only. Not that it was anyone around, it was just instinct.
-:-
His hair a mess, shaking body, couldn't breathe, no air…Chest tight, no more pain…
-:-
He couldn't breathe, no air, God, I need air. He gasped.
"Sam?"
No response.
"Sammy."
Just gasps for air that came from his brothers mouth. They echoed through the small confinement of the bathroom, shooting straight through Dean's chest.
"Sam?!"
-:-
No air, frozen lungs, soft bed, God it hurt…sun on his chest, slowly, achingly slowly reviving him, calling him to reality.
-:-
"Sam, Jezus, hey come on breathe."
O.K. panic! Now!
He gripped Sam, careful not to break anything but still...his grip was strong enough so that Sam couldn't fall anywhere but on Dean.
-:-
Trying to lift his hand to his chest, bloody and gory, but no pain…not yet. It's frozen, the pain will come later.
-:-
"Sammy, come on, hey, hey, you have to breathe." He squeezed Sam's hands tighter, lift up his head and looked at Sam's eyes. His pupils were blown out of proportion with the struggle to draw in breath. His mouth were open in a scream, fear so embodied in those eyes it made Dean flinch a little. He could see all the veins in Sam's neck bulge out, cheeks flushed. He was straining his neck muscles so hard, Dean thought he would pop a vein or something.
"O.K., Sam, just easy. It's O.K.," he ran his hand over Sam's face, wiping away the beads of sweat that began to run down his face, "just easy, you're O.K. come on. Relax."
Dean…help me.
Maybe he called out those words, maybe he thought them, but he felt Dean's hands, he heard his voice, he knew…rather smelled where he was, but there was this bed and a man lying on it, choking to death.
-:-
One breath…slow and easy. Like life starting over. But he wanted death. Death…now!!
-:-
Sam's hand squeezed Deans wrist, Dean swore he felt something break in the vice grip Sam just pulled on him. The tears streaming down Sam's face were mixing with the sweat and combined they ran slowly down his neck to be soaked up by his hoodie.
"Sammy, relax. You're fine. Just breathe, you know how to do that, right? It's simple, in and out. Yeah? Like me." he drew some over exaggerated breaths to make his point when he saw Sam squeeze his eyes shut and Dean felt like he lost the connection. It was only when Sam's head fell freely on Dean's chest, did he get it back. The light thump was soon followed with a good, strong intake of breath. Dean let it be.
"Good, that's it. One breath, then another. It's the way things are, ya know?" He still held his brother by his arms, never letting go, even if the pressure on his wrist was becoming unbearable.
"Sam, you trying to break my wrist or something?"
Nothing. No sound from Sam.
Sam was trying to soak up as much of the strength Dean possessed, feeling his brothers chest raising and falling under his forehead, the tumptumptump of Dean's heart bringing him back, slowly…ever so slowly.
He rested his head on Sam's mop of hair, digging his chin in:" Sammy? You with me now?" he managed a whisper around his brothers hair and wheezing sounds that were now coming from Sam's lungs.
Sam was shaking hard, trying to come away from the feeling of not enough air, Dean I can't breathe. Dean!! to the feeling of Dean, help me, I'm cold. Please.
Jezus Sammy. Scared the crap out of me.
"'M coooold." He whispered in Deans chest, and breathed in a few strong breaths more, capturing the smell that was his brother. Home.
"O.K. come on, let's get you off of this floor," he grabbed Sam under his armpits and hauled him up, "easy does it. Come on. You're O.K., you're fine. Let's leave this shit hole. Just breathe, yeah?" The strain in his neck was heard in his voice, but Sam didn't register it enough to try and help. He was almost limp in his arms and Dean nearly collapsed under the weight.
"Sammy this is getting to be a regular thing for you, huh?"
You scared the crap out of me, Sammy.
Sam's head rolled onto Deans shoulder and ledged herself somewhere between Dean's collarbone and the tip of his shoulder. The contact sent a wave of heat through Sam's head and he left out a breath as his hands clutched Deans jacket.
"I gotcha, Sam. Come on, let's go."
"'M coooold."
He whispered into is brothers shoulder and the icy breath that came with that shook Dean.
Shit, Sammy. What's wrong with you?
"We'll get you warm, I promise."
He felt Sam's hands clutch at his jacket and every time he shifted Sam into a better position he felt those icy hands graze at his T-shirt. It felt like someone was throwing ice chips at his chest.
They walked behind the corner of the building, nearly breaking their feet on the pebbly path and gracefully avoiding the three trashcans standing against the wall. Sam stumbled towards them as he felt a rush of cold go up his legs.
"No, no, no. Sammy, hey this way. This is no time to take out the trash, man."
Dean maneuvered them towards the Impala that was waiting patiently where they had left her.
The sun had gone down, leaving silence and crickets to rule the fresh nightly air. The curtain of clouds, that obscured the sky throughout the day had disappeared and stars had taken their place. The moon was young, smiling behind Deans back as he lowered his brother in the passenger seat.
Cold, cold, cold, Dean 'm cold, cold, cold, hurts, Dean, cold, please Dean…
"…cold." Barely a whisper, just a breath of a word.
Dean lowered Sam into the passenger seat and jumped a little when Sam spoke. He looked at his brother, hiding his legs somewhere under the dashboard, chin resting on his chest, eyes closed and mumbling incoherently. Dean didn't really think any of it meant something but the 'cold' part…...he heard that one loud and clear.
He ran his hand over his own mouth and down his tight and sighed.
"We'll get you warm, don't worry."
He closed the door and headed around his baby and hastily slid behind the wheel.
One look towards Sam broke something in Dean. He laid one hand on Sam's chest feeling the tremors wracking his baby brothers body, felt the icy cold skin right through the hoodie, Sam's heartbeat was way to fast to be normal, the simple act of breathing was raising Sam's chest up and down nearly hitting the roof, his legs were twitching nervously, knees hitting the edge of the dashboard, the bandage on his wrist was bloody, but Dean didn't see any fresh blood there and as he swept Sam's forehead again it was cold and sweaty.
"Just breathe, Sammy. You'll be fine. I promise we'll get to the bottom of this."
Warm, hot, Dean, warm, don't let go, warm, please Dean, don't let go…
Sam's teeth were clattering, his breath was coming out in short gasps now, almost on the verge of hyperventilating. His muscles tightened to stone hard and he couldn't stop all the tremors that came with that. Dean stepped on the gas almost pushing the pedal through the Impala's floor.
Sam felt Deans hand let go of his chest, and he gasped when the freezing cold covered him again.
A small moan from somewhere deep in his throat turned into a barely audible: "No." Don't…let…go…of…me…Dean.
"Sam? No? No what? Sammy?"
But there was no answer, Dean's wide fear driven eyes only saw Sam's body falling to the side window and his ears met the noise Sam's head made when it hit the cold glass.
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TBC…