TITLE: Precautions

RATING: K+

SUMMARY: Mystery Spot tag: This wasn't supposed to happen. He'd taken every precaution possible. Yet, here they were, back at Dean dying.

WORDS: 1279

NOTES: I've wanted to write a Mystery Spot tag for a while now. This one had been bouncing around my head for a while now, and, surprisingly, while doing a project concerning first aid, this struck me. This is all from Dean's point of view. And since this is a Mystery Spot tag, it has a major character death. But no spoilers or anything, nope. I hope you like it. Enjoy!

"…Sam? Where – exactly – are we going?"

Dean was more than a little concerned. Ever since Sam had woken up, he'd been acting a little strange. And not normal Sam-strange, either. Strange as in I'm-terrified-but-I-don't-want-to-tell-you-and-we-have-to-go-now. And Dean loved Sam enough to do anything for him, really, but they'd been in the middle of a case and it struck him as odd that Sam would just leave.

An hour later saw them in a field. Just a field of grass, the car a little less than a mile away. Dean had pestered Sam with questions throughout their little nature hike, but Sam had steadfastly ignored him. At one point, Dean had stopped walking, demanding that Sam tell him where they were going and what was wrong or they'd be going nowhere at which Sam just turned to him with eyes brimming with tears and desperation. Dean shut up after that, not satisfied or remotely assured but not wanting to agitate his already restless little brother.

They sat down on the grass, just watching the sky, feeling the wind and the soothing heat of the sun; the perfect day. Dean loved this moment, this instant where nothing was wrong, everything was stunningly normal – except Sam's unusual behavior, but they were overlooking that – and there was nothing but calming, endless peace. Dean figured they should do this more often, especially when Sam wasn't strumming with more tension than a guitar string. A sideways glance at Sam assured him that, yes, Sam still looked pensive and upset. Dean sighed. Which probably triggered something in Sam and revealed a tale Dean would never have believed if Sam hadn't been the one telling it with tears rolling down his cheeks and anguish coloring his voice. Turns out, Dean had died. Quite a few times, in many creative ways, and almost always in Sam's arms, if what he said was anything to go by. To say Dean was stunned would be an understatement.

"That's why I brought you here. There's nothing here to – I know it's hard to believe," Sam said, his voice shaky, "but, I don't want to watch you die again, Dean. I can't-" Sam was rambling and he was a complete emotional wreck. But that's why he had Dean.

"Sam?" Dean waited until his brother met his eyes. "It's okay. I believe, you. It's okay. You won't have to. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere." To his dismay, that just served to fill Sam's eyes with tears again.

"That's what you always say, Dean," Sam argued pointlessly, seemingly unable to stop his tears from leaking. "And then-" he choked, continued, "you always d-die."

Dean's demeanor gentled. "Sammy," he said softly. "It'll be okay." Huh, that was weird. The soothing heat of the sun? Not so soothing anymore. Had it always been that hot?

"But, Dean-" Sam protested weakly.

"No buts, Sammy. We'll get through this." Damn, it really was getting hard to breathe in here. What the…

"Hey… you okay? Dean?" Sam's voice seemed to get high with panic and terror, his eyes wide, horrified. Only Dean couldn't really tell because his vision was fuzzy and his head hurt like somebody had tossed several trucks on it.

"S'm… wha…?" And now he couldn't speak, awesome. This day just got better and better. He was sweating oceans – he could feel that – and he couldn't seem to get enough oxygen in his lungs because they were being stubborn and refusing to expand, dammit. "Sam… wha's goin' on?"

"I-I don't know, Dean. What- I- Dean!" Huh, had he always been looking up at the sky? It was really blue. There was some weird noise in his ear.

It took Dean a second to realize it was Sam sobbing in his ear, begging, telling him he couldn't leave, he couldn't do this again, he couldn't leave Sam alone again, and Dean's heart hurt. He didn't think it was related to whatever was happening to him.

"S'mmy," Dean had to at least try to calm Sam down. What kind of big brother would he be if he didn't?

"I don't want to watch you die again, Dean." Sam was just sobbing, repeating himself, probably hoping that it might change what Dean could see was inevitably going to happen. For what it was worth, he didn't want to go, either.

"Sam," Dean tried for commanding and maybe it worked because Sam stopped his desperate rambling for a minute. "Wha's…" Dean swallowed around what felt like sandpaper. His heart was beating painfully hard against his ribs. "What's… happenin'?"

"You're… you're having a heatstroke." That did make sense, actually. All the symptoms matched. But it hadn't been that hot. Not at all hot enough. Not even close. And Dean hadn't even been remotely sick. But that didn't matter. Sam was what mattered, and it seemed like Sam had caught up with what was happening, because his sobs now heaved his whole body.

"S'mmy, 'm… sorry-"

"N-no, Dean. Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay. You p-promised, remember?"

Dean smiled at Sam sadly, willing him to believe that it was going to happen. Dean was going to die. It might hurt less that way.

"S'm. It'll be… 'kay. You'll… be o-kay."

Dean could feel his strength being sapped. He knew he had mere moments left before he fainted – another symptom of heatstroke – and he knew he had to make them count, but no sound left his mouth, no matter how hard he tried to work it. So, he used his eyes. Sam had always been able to read his eyes, like they were an open book to his little brother. Dean had often cursed them for being so damn expressive, but right now he couldn't be more thankful. His eyes said everything he couldn't. They apologized, for leaving Sam alone. They reassured him that he'd be okay. They told him that Dean had always loved him and that he always would, not even death could stop that.

The last thing Dean saw with his quickly fading, fuzzy vision was Sam face, wet with tears and heartbreak calling out to him, pleading with him to stay and, finally, telling him that he was sorry and he loved him.

For a person so smart, Sam sure was stupid. Like Dean hadn't known that already.

And with that last thought, Dean was gone, praying for his sake and his brother's that everything would be okay.

END

Author's note: I'm totally willing to do a Sam version of this, so, if you guys are interested, tell me in a review or a PM.