A/N: So yeah... it was a close call tonight as to whether I was gonna post anything today. And it's currently 3:09am, and I haven't gone to sleep yet, so I still do count it as 'today'. But I was looking through all the requests which I've got accumulated (told ya I've kept them all), and found a request that for some reason sparked my muse in the middle of the night. It was the idea of a longer strangulation in the episode 'Home' in season one. So I went at it, and wrote a smaller, but still pretty good, story. I seem to be better at angst, and limp!Sam worried!Dean during the wee hours of the night. Who would'a thunk? Enjoy!
Title: Close Call
Genre: Dude... this is like pure angst...
Summary: A request one shot! What would have happened in the episode 'Home' if Sam's strangulation from the electrical cord was just a little longer... and the risk was just a little higher? Very limp!Sam, worried!Dean.
Dean ran to the door and looked into the room; his insides immediately running cold. Sam laid on the floor, his hands desperately clutching at the cord which was wrapped around his neck, strangling any life out of him.
"Sam!" Dean cried out running over and collapsing to his knees by his brother, pulling at the cord, "Sam…"
The hunter's strength was no match for whatever demon or poltergeist was attacking them, and, with one final grunt, Dean gave up. Everything passed in a worry and angst filled blur as Dean then grabbed the bag of herbs and rushed to the wall. With a solid kick from his foot, Dean broke a hole, shoved the small bag in, and covered his head from the burst of energy. It looked to finally be over.
Then Dean caught sight of Sam.
"Sammy!" Dean's voice caught in his throat as he made a large leap to Sam.
The youngest Winchester lay on the ground, the electrical cord still tightly around his neck. Sam wasn't moving at all, and the strangled breath which had been forcing its way out before was now gone along with any sign of life.
"No, no, no," Dean breathed, frantically grabbing at the cord, "Sam! Sam, no!"
The cord finally slipped off, and Dean tossed it aside while holding onto the limp Sam. Through the dim light, Dean could see his lips tinged blue, and his eyes slit open slightly staring at nothing. Dean's breath caught painfully in his chest as he froze for what seemed like an eternity. His brother's dead weight was cradled in his arms, and Dean's mind raced with the thoughts and realization of what had happened.
"No," Dean whispered again before determination bubbled up in him, "Sam… Sam!"
Using more force than he knew he probably should, Dean smacked the side of his little brother's face in an attempt to rouse his sibling from his stillness.
"Sammy, c'mon man… c'mon," Dean tapped more lightly now, "Don't do this dude… don't. Wake up."
The red marks around his neck were dark and harsh, and Dean found his own hand touching the wound lightly. Cringing, Dean forced himself to swallow, and to think clearly; he couldn't let Sam die! Not in the same place that tried to kill him so many years ago.
"Sammy," Dean's voice was a desperate whisper now, "Please Sammy…"
It had been way too long! With a last ditch effort, Dean gave Sam a firm shake. Almost immediately a large, wavering gasp came from Sam's body.
"Sam!" Dean cried out, readjusting himself so that he could look into Sam's face, "Hey, hey, hey-- don't you dare stop breathing!"
As if following his big brother's orders, another rasping breath came out of Sam, though his eyes still remained closed, and the horrifying thought of 'brain damage' pounded through Dean. How long had Sam been without oxygen?
"C'mon Sammy," Dean kept one hand supporting the upper half of Sam's body, and the other hand now on the side of his face, "…Sam… can you hear me?"
Sam's mouth moved open slightly, but no sound came out; instead the young hunter's eyes opened more, and met Dean's. Dean felt his insides squeeze at the sight of Sam's fear filled eyes that seemed to plead to Dean to help him.
"It's ok Sam," Dean choked on his own words as he pushed some stray hair from the side of Sam's face, "I got you. Just… keep breathing."
The task which would have normally been an easy one was a struggle which lasted nearly a minute before Sam was finally able to keep up a pattern of breathing that Dean was satisfied with.
"Sammy, can you talk?" Dean asked gently.
It took a moment, but finally Sam managed to whisper a reply, "Dean…"
Utmost relief swept through Dean as he closed his eyes in silent thanks. He clutched Sam closer to him, and allowed the feeling of Sam's somewhat even breath to calm his own breathing and heart rate. It was a long moment before Dean allowed himself to let Sam move back a little bit.
"Sammy," Dean's voice was hoarse, "Are you ok?"
Sam paused again before speaking, "Yeah… I-I think…"
"Good," Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, "Just lay still for a couple of minutes."
Again Dean pulled Sam closer, and placed his hand on the back of his little brother's head to help support him more. It had been close-- way too close for Dean, and even more too close for Sammy. Dean could count the number of times that Sam's life had been in serious danger on one hand, and each time Dean promised himself that he'd protect Sam even harder, and never let it happen again. And each time it did. A silent tear came down the elder brother's face as he realized truly how close he came to loosing Sam that night, and again Dean found himself making the same promise.
"You're ok," Dean whispered out rubbing Sam's arm comfortingly, "I promise I'll never let anything happen to you."