Dare Gone Wrong

Set in S1 after Hell House

All mistakes are mine

Enjoy, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural :(


"Come on don't be such a wuss, Sammy."

"I'm not a wuss, and quit calling me 'Sammy.'"

"Maybe I will…if you do it."

"Dean, for the last time: no!"

"I'll do it if you do, Sam. Come on, please?"

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms tightly across his chest. He turned away from his pleading brother and thought about the task he was being coerced into doing.

"Why, Dean? Why should I do this?"

"Nothing bad is gonna happen, Sam, it's just a dare. Everyone does it."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm not 'everyone,' in fact I'm not even normal, Dean."

"Don't start that up again. We're taking a break from hunting for a couple of days, and I'm bored. This'll give us something to do. So, I rest my case; do the Cinnamon Challenge."

Sam groaned. His brother was never gonna let this go, and he was gonna nag him until the day he died.

"I promise, Sam it's gonna be fun and it's not dangerous…especially compared the things we go up against."

Sam pursed his lips and turned back to his brother. He looked at down at the table between them, eyeing the contents, placed on the surface, warily. There was a container of pure ground cinnamon and a large tablespoon sitting innocently in front of him. He couldn't believe Dean was making him do this; what if something bad happened?

Dean seemed to pick up on the uncertainty in Sam and sighed. "I told you, nothing bad will happen, alright? I promise."

"Fine, but only if you do it afterwards."

"You have my word, Sammy."

"And you'll quit calling me Sammy?"

"Scout's honor."

Sam nodded and took a deep breath.

"Let's get this over with."

Dean's face broke out into a large grin and he clapped his hands together.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Little did Dean know that the so called "boring night" would soon turn out to a night of life and death.


"You ready?"

"Not really."

"I'll take that as a yes," Dean smiled as he filled the tablespoon to the brim with the strong smelling cinnamon.

"I'm gonna ask this one more time, Dean: are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course, what could go wrong?"

"Uh, many-"

"Forget I asked. Now here you are," Dean said passing the spoon to Sam.

The younger Winchester sighed as he took the spoon nervously.

"Well, here it goes."

"Oh, hold it; I gotta record this."

"Dean, come on, it's already humiliating enough," Sam whined.

"Too late, you're on the air, Sammy."

Sam groaned and returned his gaze to the cinnamon filled utensil. He took a deep breath and brought the spoon up to his mouth. His heart was beating rapidly, but he knew he shouldn't be this scared about a harmless challenge. Several times he brought the spoon up to his mouth before thinking twice and stalling.

"Come on, Sam, we've been standing here for five minutes and you haven't done anything. Be a man, and eat the damn cinnamon!"

Sam gulped. It was gonna happen sooner or later. Slowly, he transported the spoon closer and closer to his mouth until the cold metal was touching his lips. He could smell the powdery substance, it tickling his nose and almost causing him to sneeze.

"Sam! Let's get a move on; my arm's hurting from holding up my phone."

"Well then maybe you should forget about recording this; in fact maybe we should just forget about the whole thing," Sam laughed nervously.

"Nope, no turning back now, Sam," glared Dean. "Now if you don't do it, I'll shove the whole bottle of cinnamon down your throat instead of just that spoonful."

"Okay, okay, geez!" Sam brought the spoon back to his face. He opened his mouth and slowly inched the spoon into his mouth and clamped down. He closed his eyes and wiped the cinnamon off the spoon. He chewed for a couple seconds before his eyes widened in horror. He leaned forward and coughed, a puff of cinnamon blowing into Dean's face and all over his phone.

"Dude, come on! That's just gross."

Sam smiled a little, but it disappeared when he broke out into another coughing fit. He put his hands on his knees and tried to breathe…but found out he couldn't.

"Hey, Sam you okay?" Dean laughed and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, still not seeing how serious this was getting.

Sam wheezed harshly as he tried spitting out the substance, but there was no saliva left in his, now, completely dry mouth. His eyes were becoming unfocused and watery and to add to his discomfort, he felt like was gonna hurl. Sam started gagging as he blindly made his way to the bathroom in their motel room. Collapsing to his knees by the toilet, he started vomiting his guts out. He vaguely felt a hand on his trembling back and a voice faintly talking to him.

"Sam, you lose the game! You're not supposed to puke," chuckled Dean.

Sam sniffed as he looked up his brother, but he only saw double. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus his vision, but it rendering unsuccessful. He suddenly got a familiar sensation in his stomach and he turned back to the toilet. After another bout of puke, he figured the worse would be over, and he could breathe again. He thought wrong.

Sam's chest started hurting more, actually burning. His head was pounding and he soon realized this whole thing was a very bad idea. He leaned heavily against the wall and heaved himself up onto weak legs.

Dean cocked his head and frowned. Why wasn't Sam saying anything or punching him for making him do such a stupid challenge? He looked at his brother's face and noticed that it was red and snot was dripping out of his nose. It would've been a hilarious site if his breathing didn't sound so…off. Dean's heart stopped, fearing the worse.

"Sammy?" said Dean, his voice immediately laced with concern. His breathing intensified when his brother made no attempt correct him.

"Sam! Can you hear me?"

Sam pushed past him and stumbled back into the bedroom. Why couldn't he breathe and why was his tongue feeling so funny? His hands flew to his throat and he coughed, trying to get himself breathing again. But every time he inhaled, he couldn't get a single breath out. He was going to die, because of Dean and his stupid antics. He could feel hot tears trickling down his face as he searched for something, anything, to help him. Then his blurry vision landed on a familiar face. It looked worried…terrified.


"Yeah, it's me kid," Sam heard an echoey voice flow through his muddled thoughts. "Are you okay?"

No I'm not okay, you idiot! I can't fucking breathe! Call for help already! That's what Sam wanted to tell Dean, but he couldn't muster up the energy to do so. So he settled with, "I-I c-can't b-bre-breathe! N-Need wat-wat'"

"Water? Okay, I'll be right- damn it," Dean cursed as he quickly placed two firm hands on Sam's shoulders to keep him from keeling over.

"I'm gonna get you water and some help. Just sit tight, okay?"

But Sam couldn't hear him; he couldn't hear anything for that matter. His hearing was fading, replaced with the sound of waves crashing in his head. His sight was waning also, darkness appearing at the edge of his vision.

Dean saw Sam's lips turning blue and his eyes fluttering close. "No! No, don't you dare close your eyes, Sam! You stay with me you hear?"

No response.

Sam's arms fell limply to his side, his limbs becoming heavier and his motions becoming slower…and so was his breathing

"Damn it, damn it, damn it! Sam!"

Without warning, Sam's knees gave out and started plummeting to the ground. Lucky, Dean's reflexes kicked in and he wrapped an arm across his brother's back, lowering him gently to the floor.

"Sammy?" Dean shouted nervously, patting his unconscious brother's face. He gasped in shock when he felt how cold Sam's face had quickly gotten. He was fading fast. "Shit." Dean pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed for an ambulance.

"911 what's your emergency?"

"My name's Dean. My brother, Sam…he's having trouble breathing and…" Dean looked down at Sam's blue tinted face he gasped. For some reason his brother's face suddenly appeared puffy. No, this couldn't be happening. Since when was his brother allergic to cinnamon? Of all the times and places to find out about this defect, it had to be now. "He's having an allergic reaction! Hurry, please!"

"Emergency services are on their way, sir. What did he eat?"

"Uh, c-cinnamon."

"Okay, now, is Sam still breathing? Does he have a pulse?"

Dean gulped and reached shaky fingers to Sam's cold neck. Closing his eyes, he prayed to god that Sam was still alive. He nearly passed out when he felt a dangerously slow and weak beat against his fingers. It wasn't good, but it was better than the alternative.

"Yeah, but only just; it's fading."

"Okay, Dean, do you know CPR?"

Oh god, Sammy needed CPR? How could he let this happen? How could he be so stupid?"

"Um, y-yeah I think so."

"Alright. If your brother stops breathing at any given moment before the paramedics show up, I'm gonna need you to give him CPR, can you do that?"


Suddenly, the room got quiet, there was not one sound of raspy and constricted breathing. Dean looked down at Sam and saw that his chest had stopped moving. Dean's blood ran cold, he really hoped he was seeing things or maybe even better, he was having a nightmare. He leaned down next to Sam's face and hovered his ear over his mouth. Immediately his eyes widened in horror, but just to be absolutely sure… Dean placed his numb fingers back on Sam's neck and…

"No, shit no! Sammy? Sam. Come on, don't do this!"

"Sir, is everything alright?"

"No, everything's not alright! Sam, he…he stopped breathing!"

"Okay, just relax, Dean."

I can't fuckin' relax! My brother is dying- no he's dead and you want me to friggin' relax?

" Remember what we talked about. Start the compressions to keep his heart pumping."

"Okay," Dean placed the open phone on the ground next to him and exhaled shakily. He placed one hand over the other on Sam's immobile chest and began pushing down. He tried not to cringe every time he heard Sam's ribs snap and crack, because that was the least of his worries right now.

"Come on, Sam, breathe!" Dean grunted. When he finished, he moved over to Sam's head and sighed. Tilting the kid's head back and pinching his nose, he leaned forward and forced air into Sam's unresponsive lungs. He could taste the cinnamon on his brother's lips and he fell deeper into his pit of self-loathing. For a clever, smart guy, he could be a real dumb-ass. He couldn't believe he forced Sam to do the stupid challenge. If only he knew the consequences beforehand. If only he knew that in any given moment, he could lose his little brother, which he tried so hard to protect, forever.


Should I continue? I'm not sure if you'll like it, and it was originally gonna be a one-shot but I wasn't sure if it was worth finishing. Let me know with awesome reviews and/or suggestions :) thanks!