So I've come back with another chapter for this because of a few requests. It really means a lot to me when you guys comment and want more, so here it is. Hope you enjoy!

Dean's POV

There's something wrong with me. Or maybe it's just my lungs. I can't be sure, I just know something's not working right. Everything's a little hazy and I think maybe I'm on my knees but I can't be sure because the room is spinning with about seven different shades of charcoal and red...lots of red. But it's a dark red, almost black. And it's seeping lazily from between my fingers and pooling steadily onto the floor and suddenly it's all I can see, all I can focus on...


Maybe not all I can focus on. Apparently my ears are still working, because I hear the voice I'd know anywhere, my name coated in panic as it falls from his screaming mouth and reverberates around the empty warehouse. That scream manages to finally cut through the fog and I suddenly understand the significance of all that dripping red.

I suddenly remember that my brother has just shot me.

The initial numbness wears off then and I'm lost in my own head as the agony takes over, slicing through my stomach right below my ribcage, effectively cutting off what little air I had left. It's then that I feel strong arms surrounding me, pulling me close. Collapsing readily into my little brother's familiar hold, I hear the soft hum of my name being whispered over and over again. I distantly sense Sam's searching hands as they comb across my torso, trying to find the place where the bullet has made its home.

A shrill cry climbs its way past my bloody mouth and echoes across the empty walls as Sam finally finds what he's looking for, pressing his trembling hands onto the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I know this is bad. Really bad. All I can see is that beautiful red. It's blended into the soft fabric of my shirt and it's the puddle that stains Sam's jeans and it's the color of the tears that fall from his eyes as he rocks me back and forth, whispering his terrified apologies, his every regret.

I want so badly to respond, to tell him it's all going to be okay, just like always, but all I can focus on is the pain and the soft voice in my head telling me to just let it all go. There's a dullness that pushes its way into my vision and I start to panic as Sam's face becomes a soft blur, even as he screams for me to stay awake.

"Dean you stay with me, you understand? Please man just hold on for me. Help is on the way I just need you to please...please..." Sam's words are soon reduced to a hitched sob that wracks through his body. I feel him shudder against me, every muscle shaking, as if it's him who's going into shock.

As if it's him with a bullet in his chest.

I struggle to stay conscious, pulled back from the brink each time I start to fade by Sam's desperate pleas. His fingers dig into the sleeve of my jacket, sharpening my senses when his nails find purchase all the way through to my skin.

I blink past the haze that shrouds my vision to find my little brother's tearstreaked face staring down at me.

"S...S'mmy?" I choke, my lips stained scarlet as the words tumble out, barely audible. "S'okay S'm. You're gonna be...okay. nd Bobby...s'good. S'good..."

There's so much more I want to say to him, so much more I need him to know. But instead, the beginnings of shock have chosen this moment to consume me. My muscles stiffen as the cold sets in, burrowing into the deepest layer of my bones. Every shiver brings a new wave of agony with it, and I slam my mouth shut before another scream escapes from it. Sam is crying even harder now and I know it won't be much longer. The voice in my head is getting louder and harder to ignore, dripping with the promise of release.

"Please Dean...please no..."

Sam's voice cuts across the one in my head and I blink hard, battling the blackness that threatens to pull me away from him. For a moment I think I'm screaming again, and I bite down hard on my lip, drawing even more blood. But then I recognize the shrill ring of sirens approaching.

The next thing I'm aware of is more red. It's several shades lighter than the blood and and it sweeps repeatedly across Sam's blurry face in time with the blaring of the sirens that pound through my skull.

Help is finally here.

Alright I'm pretty sure this is the most I'm going to extend on this story. I really want it to be up to you whether or not Dean actually survives. Thanks for all your comments and reviews, and as always thank you for reading!