Bobby was gone again.
"Watch TV? Great! Thanks Bobby! "Keep him alive" he says! How the hell am I supposed to do that when I don't even know what's wrong with him?" Exasperated and deeply anxious, Sam studied his brother. If it was possible he looked even paler – his skin was almost grey. He tentatively shook Dean by the shoulder. There was absolutely no reaction. He tried again, more firmly this time. Still nothing.
"Dean – wake up!" He shouted in Dean's ear and shook him quite roughly. Dean murmured but Sam couldn't work out if it was a reaction to his voice or to whatever he was dreaming about. Leaning in close to see if he could make out any words, he got nothing but mumbled sounds, but it was obvious Dean was very agitated.
An idea finally came to him and he slid the knife out from its customary place under Dean's pillow. Then he untied Dean's bootlaces and pulled off his boots, followed by his socks. Very carefully he placed the point of the knife at Dean's heel and drew it up the base of his sole, desperately trying not to draw blood. But Dean's foot moved suddenly and the point of the knife just nicked him. Sam pulled the knife away and looked up at Dean's face. His eyes were open!
"Dean! You're awake!" Which was stating the obvious but who cared as long as Dean had his eyes open at last. Although even as he watched, they were starting to shut again.
"No Dean, you have to stay awake. Come on man, stay with me here." Sam roughly shook Dean's shoulders and when that didn't seem to work; he steeled himself and slapped Dean hard across the face. Dean's head snapped sideways and his eyes flew open as he cast a startled and hurt look at his brother.
"What the hell?" He mumbled, finding speech difficult as his mouth was bone dry. A split second later he remembered the claw and looking down he saw it was still there, though two fingers seemed to have withered. His hand flew to where the holes in his stomach should be but there was nothing – no holes, no blood, and no pain.
"I know! It's the weirdest thing Dean. They just shrivelled up and the wounds healed up straight away, right in front of my eyes. How are you feeling?"
Dean lifted his hand to take the tumbler of water Sam offered to him but realised immediately he didn't have the strength to hold it up to his mouth. Fortunately Sam hadn't entirely let go of it and managed to catch it before it fell.
"Okay, let's get you sitting up." Sam put the tumbler on the bedside table and, putting his arms under Dean's armpits, he heaved until Dean was half sitting. His face was ashen.
"Dean you look terrible."
"Yeah, well dunno if you noticed little bro, but there is a huge fucking claw stuck in me." Despite the sarcasm, his words were barely above a whisper and seemed to drain what little energy he had.
"Well yeah, it's kinda hard to miss Dean. And I see it hasn't affected your sunny disposition."
Sam spotted Dean's eyelids beginning to droop.
"Whoa! No sleeping Dude! Here, have some water." He held the tumbler to Dean's lips but Dean turned his head away. He was bone weary and just wanted to sleep.
"Sorry Dean but if you don't drink this you'll be wearing it."
Dean opened his lips slightly and Sam carefully tilted the tumbler so that a tiny amount of water more or less fell into Dean's mouth. Sam could see his throat working as he swallowed, so he tipped the glass up a second time. Dean swallowed again but his eyes were closing at the same time.
"God dammit Dean! Stay awake or I swear I'll throw this over you!"
"Can't Sam. Too tired. Jus'lemme sleep 'kay?"
Dean's eyes flew open when the cold water hit his face.
"Sam, why are you torturing me?"
"What are you talking about Dean?"
"I'm pretty sure you stabbed me in the foot before and now you're throwing water all over me. And wait! Dude, did you slap me?"
"Yeah, sorry about that, but it worked…and stop exaggerating – I didn't stab your foot, it was a tiny nick."
"Whatever, but why are you cutting my foot up in the first place?"
"Dude, I wasn't trying to cut you, I just needed to do something to get you to wake up."
"And you couldn't use a spoon or something?" Dean's voice rose a notch.
"What can I say? It was the first thing that sprang to mind. I'm trying to help you here Dean."
"Why can't I sleep?"
"Because you keep dreaming."
"So?"
"It looks like if you have a dream, a claw withers…and the wound heals itself"
"Not seeing a down side here."
"And that thing gets bigger." Sam pointed to the misshapen lump across the room. It no longer looked like an arm. In fact it was not recognisable as anything really, but there appeared to be a vein throbbing all down one side of it. Clearly it was alive.
Dean gaped at the grotesque thing by the wall.
"What the hell? Fuck Sam! Why don't you kill it?"
"Can't. Bobby said I should leave it alone til he gets here."
"What the hell for?"
"He didn't say. He'll be here soon, you can ask him yourself. Of course, for that to happen you'll have to stay awake won't you?"
"Not sure I can Sam. I can't seem to keep my eyes open." And even as he spoke he could feel himself slipping back into the comforting darkness.
"DEAN!" Sam bellowing in his ear jolted Dean back to consciousness.
"Sam?"
"What?"
"I hate you."
"Gotta be cruel to be kind Dean."
"Shut up!"
"Nah, I figure annoying you is just as good a way to keep you awake as any other."
"Not really Sammy, you annoy me pretty much all the time – I'm kinda used to it." Dean started to yawn but stopped when it looked like Sam was going to throw more water over him. His shirt was still cold and damp from the last lot.
"There's a can of coke in the ice box. Wanna try it – the caffeine might help?"
As Sam turned his back on his brother, he heard a high-pitched wailing noise coming from behind him and turning around he realised it was coming from the creature on the floor. At the same time, the claw had contracted and its remaining claws were curling deeper into Dean's chest, stomach and waist. Dean's face was contorted in agony and his eyes were locked on Sam's, silently pleading for help. As soon as the claw relaxed its grip, the wailing stopped but Dean was now totally unconscious.
There was a knock on the door – Bobby! Sam let him in and he took in the scene.
"Aw crap."