"Wake up! You have to wake up! We've got to git before he comes back!"
Dean woke up to Sam slapping his cheeks, shaking him hard. He'd dozed off beside him as the night in the hospital wore on. Machines were beeping in a frenzy as Sam had torn himself free of them and the IV bag he'd been put on. At 21, he looked worn and old, with eyes wide as owl's eyes, and blistering in their terror.
He spun around the room, plucking a hoodie Dean had taken off from the edge of the bed and slipping it over his shoulders.
"Dean! Dammit, get up! He could come back!" Sam slipped on the floor, and slammed into the bed, groaning as he staggered and made a straight shot for the door.
Dean caught him, and in a single motion spun him around and pinned him against the wall. He put his hand over his mouth. A viper bite shocked through his heart when he looked at the profound terror in Sam's eyes. It had intensified, if that was even possible, under the weight of Dean manhandling him to a stop.
Dean stood there with his hand over his brother's mouth, trying to process his face. He'd not seen him in two years and now they were here, in this ridiculous situation, Sam's clammy hands wringing at Dean's wrists as he tried to get free.
"Look, it's like this. I ain't goin nowhere until you tell me what the hell happened to you?!" Dean lets his hand off Sam's trembling lips and secures his grip on his shoulders as he sags against the wall.
"The man with the yellow eyes..." Sam whimpered looking back at the door.
"He will come for me...He wants to use me for his plan...His plan to end the world...We have to go!" Sam was verging on tears all over again.
Dean knew he wasn't going to get a word out of him until he got him somewhere else. Somewhere more familiar, less sterile than this place.
"I know where we can hide from him. Pastor Jim's old safe house. You remember it? We're outside of Seattle, in case you didn't know..." Dean frowned when Sam's eyes got huge again. He clearly had no idea where he was.
Dean couldn't bear it a single minute longer. Sam was a frantic, shaky mess in his arms. He hauled him into his embrace, pressing his face to his shoulder.
"Dude, you need to breathe, okay? Just breathe..."Dean nodded as he felt Sam's short little gasps start to slow.
"Dean, we really, really need to get out of here, and I mean like last week."
"Okay, Sammy, but we're not gonna get far if I have to carry you. Dude, relax. You're okay. You're with me..." Dean was still not sure how.
Sam stood up letting a heavy breath.
"Let's get out of here. Please!"
Dean nodded. Then, he held up a finger and went to the duffle bag he'd hauled in with him.
"I found some of your old clothes mixed in on accident with some of mine. Put em on. You can't go running from Lord Lemonade in a paper dress." Dean plucked at Sam's hospital gown. The boy smiled a tiny, flicker of a grin as some human emotion registered across his capsizing mind.
Dean held Sam up as he dressed. Then, he laced the bag and the boy's arm over his shoulders and they made for the exit door, with Sam too scared to even go and sign out properly.