Whatever You Do, Don't Panic 
Not many things made Dean Winchester panic. If he were to compile a list, he was fairly certain that it could be contained to one hand. Growing up in the lifestyle he was raised in, there was no room for panic. Panic could cost someone their life.
He'd seen enough monsters over the years that now, they hardly even made his blood pressure rise.
Cuts, blood and gashes -grab a needle. The thought didn't even make his stomach churn.
Broken bones, concussions, dislocated joints -Please don't make him laugh.
But there was one thing that always made Dean panic. One thing that sat right near the top of his list -just underneath anything happening to his family. But let me tell you, on days like today, it ran a close second.
Dean lay on his side, his cheek pressed against the gravel, irritating pebbles poking against his skin. His arm was draped over his stomach, his body curled in on itself as he tried to alleviate the pain in his chest. Short gasps were attempting to make it through his parted lips, but this was where the panic set in.
He couldn't breathe.
Maybe if he could roll onto his back, stretch out his body and expand his lungs -maybe then he could breath. But the fact of the matter was, Dean's body hurt so bad, he couldn't even lift his arm.
He could feel a seeping liquid leaking across his stomach, sticking his t-shirt to his skin as his breaths turned into shallow pants.
"Dean. Dean?" Panic.
He watched as Sam lowered himself into his line of vision. Troubled eyes looked over his body as his brothers hands found found their way to his stomach, and Dean would have told him to stop groping him or feeling him up if only he'd been able to breathe.
"..c-can't.." was all Dean managed to rasp out to his brother. But it was enough, as he felt Sam's hand press gently against his shoulder, rolling him onto his back.
Dean's teeth clenched, his eyes squeezed tight, as pain exploded throughout his body.
"Dean this is bad" his brother said frantically as he put pressure on the bleeding wounds on Dean's stomach.
But Dean could care less about the bloody gashes that littered his stomach. He still couldn't breathe. The panic increased as he clenched his fist, closed his eyes, and smacked his hand against the gravel road. I guess you could call it his way of protesting the lack of air that was being delivered to his lungs. The pressure in his chest was almost to the point of unbearable -and Dean had been through some pretty intensive pains throughout the years.
Dean watched as his brother lifted blood soaked fingers towards his chin, tilting his head up and trying to open his airway.
A small breath made it's way through Dean's lips, but it still wasn't enough -wasn't nearly enough. His chest was barely rising and he figured that with so much pressure there was no room for air.
"Hang on Dean" came a worried voice as he watched Sam dig through his pockets and pull out his phone "Just hang on"
'Well I'm trying here princess but I can't fucking breathe and my chest is about 5 seconds from exploding all over you'
Black dots were popping up in Dean's vision, and he fought to stay conscious. Through it all, he could hear the constant echo of Sam's voice floating slowly around his head 'Stay with me. Open your eyes. Dean, please hang on'
He blinked lazily at his brother, watching his mouth move, frantic plea's begging Dean to just hold on a little longer.
So he did.
It took every ounce of strength he had not to just give in and pass out. Pass out or die. Dean figured he wouldn't last much longer without air. But it was Sam begging him for christ sake. And for that he fought.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The noise growing louder as the seconds ticked by.
"There almost here Dean. They're coming" Sam exclaimed to him. And Dean didn't miss the hope that had returned to his brothers voice, as he grimaced at the renewed pressure that was placed on his sliced up stomach.
Dean lay staring straight above him, splayed flat out on his back in the middle of the road, as his eyes looked up through the treetops, leaves rustling in the wind.
He heard boots tromping against the dirt, moving quickly towards him. Sam's voice broke into nervous chatter as he no doubt made another cover up story for what had really happened.
Just once Dean wished they could tell the truth. Just lay it on the line for everyone. Wendigo. I look like this because I was saving your asses from a Wendigo.
But he supposed that that wouldn't really go over too well -no he supposed not.
Two forms crouched beside him as he felt his shirt being cut off. And he had to give them credit. These weren't no rookie paramedics. White sticky pads were placed to his chest followed by an incessant beeping -should his heart really be going that fast?
He felt a needle slip into his hand and presumed it was an IV, as a cuff was placed around his upper arm and pumped tight against his skin. Dean couldn't help but think that the tightness of the blood pressure cuff was exactly what he was feeling in his chest. 'Make that pain go away' he wanted to voice to the two bodies working diligently on their own tasks.
"He's hardly getting any air. No breath sounds on the left side. Were gonna have to tube him"
Panic sparked in Dean's green eyes. Why were they talking about him like he wasn't even there. And further more, nobody gave any one permission to be sticking tubes in places that Dean didn't approve of. 'Uh-uh. Not friggin happening'
Dean followed the red haired girl with his eyes as she started digging through one of her bags. He'd get up and run if he could, but it still remained that he couldn't breathe -Didn't mean he wanted a tube shoved down his throat. Maybe he'd rather die slowly on the deserted gravel road. He watched as she moved back towards him and positioned herself above his head. Her face moved into his line of sight as blue eyes looked into green and a gentle hand was placed against his cheek. He assumed it was supposed to be comforting, but the latex glove kind of ruined the moment for him.
"Alright buddy, were gonna help you out here Dean" came her gentle voice as a small reassuring smile crossed her features "Just relax"
And not being able to protest Dean lay there as her thumb pushed against his chin, forcing him to open his mouth.
'No no no no no' he chanted over and over to himself as he felt the metal blade of the laryngoscope slide against his tongue and towards the back of his throat. A small shudder passed through his body as a weak gag was emitted from the metal blade beginning to slide down his throat. It was kind of disappointing to Dean. Why couldn't he start choking on it. Force them to take it out and not bother with the tube. Why was he instead left with a half assed gag reflex that allowed the red head to continue to shove the laryngoscope down his throat into position.
"Tube" she said out as she raised a hand sideways towards her partner. Dean could hear the sterile wrapping being removed from the tube as he looked up towards the woman hovering above him. Her face was close to his -too close. And an intense look was plastered across her features as she stared intently down towards him, mind on the job. Dean gagged again, chest heaving up, as he tried to turn his head away from her. He watched her gloved hand take the tube from her partner as his spare hands found there way to Dean's body, holding him still.
"Shh, it's alright. We're almost there" she said slightly devoid of emotion, too focused on that job at hand.
'We're?' He thought to himself. What was the we're she was talking about. As far as Dean could tell, he was the only one being held down as a tube was about to be forced down his throat.
Dean's chest clenched as his heart rate picked up more speed. His green eyes were wide as he watched the tube moving towards his open mouth. Fire erupted in his throat as he felt the plastic being pushed into his airway. Dean's weak body found a small amount of strength as he feebly tried to lift his arms and push her away. Push everyone away.
"Ok ok" she cooed to him as she continued to push the tube in further "Almost done buddy"
'Oh we are NOT buddies' his thoughts deadpanned, and he winced at the scratching feeling that was sliding down his throat. The delicate skin felt raw and Dean figured she might as well be trying to ram a knife down his throat. He tried moving his arms but her partner successfully had him pinned down, head turned towards the machine beeping out a rapid pace.
"Good job Dean" she praised as if he was actually even doing something "Just about there"
Dean's eyes squeezed shut, tears popping up in the corners at the uncomfortably sensation. 'Either get it in or take it out damnit'
"I'm in" she said moments later, echoing Dean's thoughts, as she pulled out the metal blade and held the tube steady.
Her partner hooked a bag up to the tube and pumped oxygen into Dean's starved lungs, as she continued to hold the tube in place.
"Grab some tape" she said as she took the bag away from him and supported the tube while administer oxygen to Dean.
And finally he could breathe.
Sure it wasn't from his own will power. But really, who's keeping score. He had air.
He felt tape being pressed against his cheeks. The annoying, stickiness, of it pulling at the skin.
"Paul grab the gurney" He heard from above his head "We've gotta get this kid to a hospital" And Dean wondered who she was calling kid. After all he was 26 years old.
"Dean, hang in there" came Sam's voice as his hand was scooped up and sad eyes looked down towards him. And Dean could see the remainder of a few wet streaks that had made their way down Sam's cheeks.
"Hurry Paul. Blood pressures too low. Heart rate too fast. Weak breath sounds on the left side. We've gotta go" The girl yelled and Dean heard footsteps quicken as the wheels of the gurney bounced over the ground.
"Dean" Sam said still looking at him, squeezing his hand tight for added effect.
And Dean summoned all the strength he could to squeeze Sam's hand back.
'I'll fight for you Sammy'
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