Thanks again for the feedback. Again, this was supposed to be a short angsty tag. I'll wrap it up soon, I promise.

More Folsom Prison Blues

Continued

Sam worked his bleeding finger out of his brother's mouth. Dean's teeth automatically clamped down again, grinding so hard against each other Sam thought for sure he'd be missing half of them if he smiled again. No, when he smiled again. No way was Dean dying on him. It wasn't going to happen.

He sat down on the ledge of the bed, feeling the dip in the mattress from his weight.

Sam cleaned his bloody finger by rubbing it across the comforter then covered Dean's jaw with his hand and coaxed him by reaching out and tapping him lightly on the unbruised cheek, "Come on Dean, that's right. Chew it up. Swallow it. It'll help." He massaged the back of Dean's neck by squeezing it gently within his palm and fingers. He could feel several lumps and the stiffness of glands beneath his hand. He unconsciously began squeezing harder in an attempt to loosen up the overlarge veins and muscles.

Thump Thump Thump Whoosh...

Several minutes passed, Dean continually thrashing around on the bed, groaning in his misery. Sam wouldn't let him touch the wound over his heart. Each time he tried Sam would move his elbow out and bat his weak hand away. Dean would just give up, so fatigued to try again his hand would fall limply to the side. He had lowered his hand off Dean's jaw and held two fingers steady over his neck, feeling Dean's pulse.

Thump Thump Thump Whoosh...

His heartbeat was gradually slowing down. He counted the number of heartbeats each minute. The first minute he counted approximately 295 beats and briefly thought about doing CPR. His heart hadn't stopped though and he didn't want to be forcing pressure down over Dean's major source of injury and pain. He didn't know much on the topic as it was. He would do a google search the second he was sure Dean was going to be okay.

Thump Thump Whoosh...

Sam counted 107 beats. The aspirin were working for now. "Thank God," he breathed a sigh of relief. "Does it still hurt? Dean?" His eyes focused on Dean's. His eyelids were getting heavy and fluttering. His breathing began to even out. With one last major intake of breath, Sam watched his eyes roll into their sockets before his brother fell lax.

Thump Whoosh...

Sam continued to rub his neck, feeling some of the tension breaking apart. 100 beats her minute he finally stood from the bed, easing Dean's head back down to his pillow. His hand brushed across the knot on the back of Dean's head causing Dean to moan in his sleep.

"Sorry bro," he whispered, moving his hand away swiftly.

Taking a deep breath, he looked down and now realized he was still completely naked. He'd laugh at how humorous this was. Him taking care of his injured brother while swinging freely. Maybe if Dean was coherent enough to crack a joke about it. No, nothing was funny about this. He almost lost the one person he had left in this world. He bent down and retrieved a pair of boxers that had fell from his backpack and slipped them on.

He reached out and swiped his cell phone off the miniature table between the beds and eased himself down onto the mattress. He speed dialed the number for help. When the answering machine picked up and Bobby's voice told him to leave a message, he felt hope flush down the toilet. After the beep he took in a shaky breath, "Hey Bobby, it's me, Sam. I'm going to buy you a cell phone after today... you are the only person on this planet that doesn't carry one." He let out a fake laugh. "Bobby, it's Dean. He's sick. I don't know what to do. I didn't know who else to call. We were working this case with a haunted prison... yeah it was Dean's idea to get incarcerated," he choked back a sob. "Anyway, she caused heart attacks to her victims and I dunno... she touched Dean over his heart. He has this wound that looks super infected and he... I think he just had a heart attack. I know we're all over the news and I can't take him to a hospital. Not now. They'd lock him up forever. If you could just call me back..." he ended the call and tossed his phone over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. Tears were gathering in his eyes and he closed them, allowing them to spill down his cheeks.

"I guess I'm all you got," Sam said out loud, looking over at his brother's still form. He looked so pale and fragile. He watched his eyes scrunch up in pain then relax back, the lines smoothing out. Dean could be torn to hell after a hunt yet he'd still manage to find a way to tuck his pain down and take care of him. "I'm going to take care of you, Dean. I promise I'll find out what's going on." Sam stood ready to return the favor the best that he could.

Taking every precaution he could think of, Sam had the first aid kit out and open along with clean towels and a few other instruments. First, he wanted to get a couple more aspirins into Dean's system for the pain. He felt terrible for doing this, but he had to cover all bases. He removed the flask from the night stand, Dean's flask that Bobby had given him filled with holy water, and untwisted the cap. He poured a small amount into the plastic cup that he had already unwrapped. He held the tablets in his hand and leaned over Dean. "Hey... hey man, wake up," he whispered, shaking his brother lightly on the shoulder.

Dean groaned in his sleep but didn't stir.

"Come on, Dean," he shook him a little harder. When he didn't receive a response he shook even harder, ordering out, "W-a-k-e u-p DEAN!"

That did the trick. Dean's head turned sideways slowly, his eyelids attempting to pry open. His dry lips smacked several times. When his eyes finally drifted three-fourths the way open, Sam smiled down at him, crouching to be closer. "Hey Dean, you with me?"

Dean looked up at him disoriented, eyes glossy and pain-filled. "Sammy?" His voice was hoarse and a near whisper.

"I'm here, Dean. You gave me quiet the scare," he admitted.

Dean tried to slowly sit up and instantly regretted it. The painful stretch across his entire chest had him involuntarily crying out again, "Ooowwwwwgaaawwwdddddd. Ooohhhhh!" Sam put his hand down on his shoulder forcing him back. "Relax, Dean, just relax. You've been through a lot."

It took a few minutes for Dean to gather his bearings. Finally he spoke again, "Sam? What happened?"

"You ah... I don't know. Glockner hurt you pretty bad. I think maybe you suffered a heart attack. Do you remember anything?"

Dean let a growl escape his throat as if saying, oh hell yeah I remember now.

"Dean. I know you are not up for this yet but there is something I have to tell you. Deacon, he," he cleared his throat. There was no sugar coating what he had to say. "Dean he's dead." He watched his brother's eyes widen then took in the look of disbelief. He continued, "He lived a few hours after we burned her bones so I'm guessing either we failed this job or perhaps, I don't know maybe she got her hand on him before we ended it and it was just too late for him. Maybe that's what happened to you? Maybe she didn't have her hand on you long enough to cause an instant heart attack but the damage was already done?"

Dean was silent but Sam could tell his mind was hard at work. After a minute he couldn't take it anymore. "Dean, please say something?"

"Have you checked to see if anyone else has died since Deacon?" He started to get up again, wincing he looked down at his bare chest and took in the damage. "No wonder I feel like shit," he hissed.

Sam helped him into a siting position this time, both arms around his shoulders. "I haven't had time yet. I've been worried sick about you."

"I'm fine Sam," Dean lied, shaking off the dizzy spell just sitting up produced. If he were being honest, he would have admitted he felt like he was dying. This hurt far worse than the electrocution/heart attack via rawhead and his own carelessness.

"I want to get you patched up first Dean, you are not fine," Sam replied, his tone firm. "Here take these, I need to clean your chest up." He handed the pills over to Dean who reluctantly scooped them out of Sam's hand. Sam reached for the cup of holy water, eyeing Dean up as he did so. Dean wasn't possessed or anything, what was he thinking at the time? This was foolish. Desperate for answers was all he could come up with. Still, it was water and it would do the trick.

Dean popped the pills into his mouth with shaky fingers. Sam was ready to hold the cup to his lips for him but Dean gave him a perturbed expression. "I got it," he groaned grabbing the cup from him. As the small cup shook within his grasp, several droplets splashed over the rim of it landing on his chest wound. Dean tipped his head back and a guttural growl escaped his lips when his chest began to sizzle, smoke rising from the wound.

TBC...