Thanks again for all the lovely reviews.

Thanks again Jana for the autographed picture! I am forever yours. I'll rip Dean's heart out with my bare hands if you want... or the good nurse can... just say the word. Hee!

More Folsom Prison Blues

Continued (3 of 4):

Sam lay stretched out on his back on top of his covers. He lost track of time. Could have been an hour. Maybe two. Despite the slight chill in the room he still felt grimy and sweat-coated. He watched the traffic on the highway for a little while through the slight part in the curtains. Thankfully they still had a nice view of the stretch of road even from the second floor.

His mind replayed over and over the turn of events. Deacon's death. What they could have possibly missed, if anything. His lie to Dean. He knew he couldn't keep this lie going. Dean would find out the second he got his hands on his laptop. Maybe he could remove the battery and claim it was busted. No, that wouldn't work. He needed to continually keep track of the news. Besides, Dean would just call some of his sources and ask them to look matters up for him.

One thing was for certain, when Dean found out he lied to him he was so getting his ass kicked.

Then there was the whole wanted by the law thing. Dean was already on the FBI's most wanted list. Somehow he had managed to escape that. Not now. Both their pictures would be posted up making their job even harder. Before Sam could step into public while Dean laid low. There was no way he was cutting his hair short or shaving his head. He didn't have the forehead for it. Maybe prison wasn't so bad after all...

The whistling and chirping of birds cued him the sun would be rising shortly, bringing him out of his miserable thoughts.

He rolled his head to the side and fixed his eyes at the still form of his brother. Dean hadn't budged since he fell asleep. It was almost pitch black in the room except for a tiny amount of light from a street lamp that was filtering in around the window frame and through the folded back curtain.

Dean had mumbled a few things over the past - how ever long he'd been laying there in the dark - under his breath but Sam didn't pay the garbled slurs much attention. Surely Dean was having some fantasy dream about something he really didn't want to hear about. Most likely he'd hear about it once Dean was alert. Much to his protest. Over breakfast. In vivid detail. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food.

He eased himself into a sitting position then slowly stood, stretching every single one of his overworked and underpaid muscles, deciding on a quick shower. He made his way to the bathroom quietly, easing the door shut before turning the light on. At least Dean was getting some shut eye. Hopefully he'd get his once they were on the road.

After stripping down Sam stepped into the tub and turned the spray on. The mildly cool water trickled down his sweaty body feeling heaven sent. He leaned into the cold tile relaxing all tense muscles, letting the prison filth wash from his lean body. He cleared his mind and let all the stress from this gig roll down his back in beads with the filth. His head down it swirled around the drain before disappearing.

Several minutes later, after washing and rinsing his hair twice and scrubbing his entire body with the generic hotel-issued soap, Sam turned the water off then pushed the off white shower curtain back. He was feeling ten times better given the circumstances.

Thankfully there were a few towels folded neatly on an iron rack over the toilet. Sam removed one of the towels and unfolded it. He held it up to the light and chuckled. It was the size of a hand towel. After patting down the excess water on his now clean skin, he dropped the baby towel to the floor, noting Dean's jacket and prison issued jumpsuit. Didn't he tell Dean to lose the hideous bright-orange-I-just-escaped-from-prison garment before coming up to their room?

"He never listens to me... idiot...scratch that... slob," he shook his head, pushing the garments out of the way with his toes. When his toe nail snagged the prison jumpsuit, he flipped it up and was ready to toss it to the other side of the bathroom when he spotted a rather large stain on the front. Blood.

"What the?" He hastily snatched it up and examined the front side. His eyes grew wide as realization smacked him across the face. Dean was hurt. Dean did say the nurse had paid him a visit while in the infirmary, but he said she had went after Tiny. Maybe he was injured in the scuffle with Tiny? "Oh God," he whispered. He hoped not. It was his idea for Dean to antagonize Tiny. It was his "really pretty sure" way of getting back at Dean for their predicament.

500500500500500

The average rate of heartbeat is 72 beats her minute.

Thump Thump Thump Whoosh...

Hand squeezing shirt front and chest, knuckles white, Dean inhaled producing a hoarse whistling sound. He maneuvered himself to his back, still half asleep, his exhale just as painful as it was loud. He felt like he was drowning as each breath became increasingly difficult. His head lolled to the left then the right, searching for a position to allow better oxygen flow. His neck stiff from massively swollen lymph nodes, he wheezed again, this time groaning in unison.

Thump Thump Thump Whoosh...

The pounding in his head was relentless. He willed it to stop. Why wouldn't it stop? With each heartbeat his temples pulsed, sending shooting pains through his skull. He could feel his eardrums vibrating to the rhythmatic tune. He clenched his jaw so hard against the throbbing his teeth hurt as they bounced off each other.

Thump Thump Thump Whoosh...

The pain was unbearable. His eyes shot wide open and his body arched off the bed.

"DEAN!" The light was on and Sam was leaning over him, panic written all over his face. "Dean? What's wrong? Hey! What's wrong! Did Tiny hurt you? Was it Glockner?"

Thump Thump Thump Whoosh...

"DEAN! TALK TO ME!" Sam ripped the remainder of the blankets off of Dean, eyes darkening at the blood-soaked sheet beneath his brother. "Oh God, Dean!" He watched his brother gasping for breath, grabbing at his chest with one hand, the other around his own throat.

The pounding of his heart surpassed all sound. Sam's lips were moving but no words were coming out.

"Arrrggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhh!" He screamed in pure agony with all he had left in him.

Tears threatening to surface, Sam grabbed at Dean's hand, moving it out of the way as fast as he could he lifted Dean's undershirt up. It was saturated with his brother's precious blood. He wasn't prepared for what he'd find hidden beneath.

TBC...