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When Your Are Blue
ay - I am not worth a crap at this site. I have had this LJ for a while, but never figured out how to work it all. Anyhow, I thought I would give it a shot. Here's a story. IF anyone has any suggestions on how to do anything out here, I am all ears!! Denise

When You Are Blue

“When You…”One Shot Series

By: supernaturaldh

Summary: When you are blue I promise I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you, as long as it’s not me.

Timeline: Season Two. No reference to anything.

Beta: None, all mistakes are my own

When You Are Blue

“You know Dean, if you’d look at the freaking map every once in awhile, you wouldn’t always be getting us lost.” Sam muttered as he eyed his older brother.

“We weren’t lost dude, I knew where we were the whole freaking time.” Dean’s eyebrows arch up as he leers across the seat. Bitch

“You didn’t have a clue where the hell we were Dean, just admit it and move on.” Sam huffs out. God, he’s driving me nuts.

“Would you please just shut the hell up? We’ve been talking about this all damn day.” Dean mutters angrily as he tugs his hand down across his tired face. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

“You’re driving me crazy…” Sam looks heatedly at his older brother, anger rolling off him in a wave.

“We’ll that’s just what I live for.” Dean’s fingers reach over and turn the ACDC tape up as high as the volume will go, music blaring loudly throughout the car. If he won’t shut up, I’ll just tune him out.

Sam’s eyes roll in annoyance as he glares across at Dean. Jerk

Dean can see the kid’s lips moving and he grins. “Sorry bro, but I can’t hear you,” he spouts out cockily.


The sleek black Impala pulls into the Quick Stop market somewhere in the middle of no where. It’d been a long ride from Little Rock and the sun is falling slowly behind the trees. The last hunt wore the brother’s down. Too long in close quarters, and the Winchesters nerves are raw. They are both on edge, snapping and biting each others heads off for the last one hundred miles. Heated words between them, twenty four seven, is wearing pretty thin. Where to stop, what to eat, how long to stay, who gets the first shower, the music’s too loud, the cars too hot, and the list goes on and on. To say it was getting out of hand, well, that’s an understatement.

Sam’s just tired of his big brother, Dean’s not always right. Perfect hunter my ass, perfect jerk, that’s what the hell he is.

Dean’s really sick of OCD Sam, always the perfectionist. The jerk questions everything I do. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

The arguments continue as they exit from the car.


“Whatever dude,” Dean hisses out heatedly as he slams the door closed with excessive force. Sorry baby, that’s meant for Sam not you. His hand caresses the hood of the Impala as he stomps abruptly past.

“Well, if you had just listened to me, we wouldn’t have gotten caught out in the middle of nowhere with that Wendigo on our ass.” Sam spouts off as his long legs eat past Dean and he enters the country store. The door slams abruptly in his older brother’s face.

Dean just rolls his eyes and pushes through the entrance. I’m gonna knock the shit out of him. God, kid’s like a damn dog with a bone.

Both brothers roam the tiny market looking for something to eat and drink. They’re short on money, and won’t be stopping for dinner anytime soon, they barely have enough for a motel room between them, and that’s not going to be a nice one either, but hey, they’ve been staying in rat holes their whole life, tonight will be no different. Both their hands reach for the cooler door at the exact same time, eyes glaring heatedly at one another. Sam huffs and grabs for the handle quickly, large shoulder nudging his somewhat smaller brother backwards.

Dean’s boots stumble momentarily and he braces himself with his hand against the cooler. His blue-green eyes flash heatedly at Sam. “Damn it Sam, you little jerk face, get the hell out of my way.”

The younger brother grabs his Coke and bolts sideways just as Dean’s arm swings to nudge him harshly to the side.

Sam laughs hard, a loud screeching cackle. Missed me. He grins cockily, and quickly moves away.

Dean snorts, it’s that awful little laugh Sam’s always had, the one that sounds like he thinks he’s won the war. I don’t freaking think so. He glares at the back of Sam’s head as the little brother moves on to the large selection of chips. “Screw you Sam,” he says loud enough for the kid behind the register to raise his head and stare up at them both.

“Hey Dean, kiss my lily white butt.” Sam glowers over his shoulder at his big brother.

Sam stops in front of the large array of chips, eyes perusing through the selections. Hummm….Doritos, Cheetos….Pork Rinds, and we have a winner. He grabs up an extra large bag of barbeque rinds and glances at the candy on the opposite side of the isle. I could get Dean some M&M’s, I could, but he’s being an ass. He ponders his thoughts a moment and then, decision made, quickly adds a pack of peanut M&M’s to his stash.

Dean can see Sam’s paying for whatever he found to eat, while he’s happily waiting on his delectable microwave bean burrito to heat up. Ah the joys of living on the road. Sammy will regret being ugly to me later. He rolls his eyes at his private joke as the timer for the microwave dings loudly throughout the store. By the time he has his food collected, Sam’s already in the car. He glances out the window, just making sure his smartass little brother is okay, then, he moves to the cash register to pay.

“You guys traveling together?” the teenage cashier asks curiously.

“Yeah, yeah we are.” Dean says as he watches the pimple faced kid ringing up his items.

“Most be a long trip,” the teen says smugly as he waggles up his brows.

Dean’s head tilts to the side, “What?” Not another person thinking that we’re gay….Pleeeaaase.

“I mean, you two been going at it since you first pulled into the parking lot. It’s actually, kind of funny.” The young clerk snickers, “That’s $4.57,” he says as he bags up Dean’s purchases.

“Humph, yeah, he’s annoying,” Dean mutters, “Sort a like you.”

The young cashier frowns. Well okay then.

Dean’s snarls his face up. He slides the wide eyed teenager a five and waits impatiently for the change. Don’t test me kid, I get enough of that from Sam.


They’d been on the road about ten minutes, dusk creeping in against the auburn sky.

“Are we stopping anytime soon?” Sam asks as he munches happily on a pork rind.

“Nope,” Dean says as a shit eating grin curls up to his lips. He shoves the rest of the large bean burrito into his mouth, and turns to chew, with his mouth open, as he looks across at Sam. Not till I get to digest this wonderful burrito. He’s eyebrows waggle.

“Ewe, you’re so damn gross, chew with your mouth closed.” Sam pushes back as far into the passenger door as he can, away from Dean, disgusted look resting on his face.

Dean just snorts and turns his eyes back to the road as he swallows and then let’s loose a large unyielding belch. Take that little brother. The warm scent of a bean burrito wafts around the car.

“I think I hate you.” Sam says as he stuffs another pork rind in his mouth. Not really, but you are driving me crazy.

The old back road is suddenly bumpy and the car bounces up and down, the tires dipping into some extremely large potholes.

Dean grips the steering wheel tighter realizing the road is in bad need of a repair job. These pot holes are bigger than the freaking car. “Holy crap,” he mutters, his foot easing off the gas.

“Slow down, Dean,” Sam mumbles through a mouth full of pork rinds, “You’re gonna damage the under carriage.”

“Well, no shit, Sam.” The older brother eyes squint up in anger, “It’s my car Sam don’t you think I know that.” Jesus Christ, little brothers are a pain in the ass.

Sam huffs and Dean just rolls his eyes, doesn’t look at his little brother, and concentrates on the road. He’s trying to maneuver his baby as best he can around the gargantuan holes in the pavement.

Sam swallows down the mouthful of pork rinds. He immediately feels a lump resting in his throat and he attempts to gulp it down. It doesn’t move. Sudden realization hits him; he’s swallowed a pork rind the wrong way. It’s stuck. He attempts to clear his throat, but nothing happens, and he struggles to pull in some air. He glances over at Dean, his older brother focused totally on the bumpy road before them. He gives a strangled sigh and pulls both hands up to claw against his throat.

Sam heaves out a funny sound as the car bounces on the road. Dean feels his brother moving around in the seat next to him. Is he wheezing? “Calm down Sam, I got it under control.” His eyes flit from the roadway to his little brother, and he suddenly feels sick. Something’s wrong with Sam. His brother’s face is saturated red; his eyes staring wildly back at Dean, hands pawing at his throat.

“Sammy?” the older brother darts his eyes from Sam to the road and back. “Sam?” Oh my god he’s choking.

Sam’s lips are turning blue, he’s wheezing, arms flailing sluggishly around.

Dean’s free hand pushes Sam forward, then whelps harsh against his little brother’s back.

Tears well up in Sam’s eyes as he struggles to pull in air, nothing happens, Sam’s still wheezing, attempting to pull in oxygen. His eyelids are starting to droop, his full weight falling forward, his chin smacking on the dash.
Dean whips the car to the side of the road. “Hang on Sam,” he says frantically.

The Impala comes to a grinding halt, half on the roadway, half off in the ditch. Dean doesn’t care.

Sam’s body slumps forward.

The driver’s door swings open before the vehicle is even placed into park. Dean slides full throttle across the hood; his legs whipping over the top of the car. Oh my god, help Sam, help Sam.

Sam’s lost all awareness when Dean yanks open the passenger door. His little brother falls limply against him, full weight leaning into his arms. His eyes are mere slits, his pupils unfocused and fixed. His head is tilting forward flopping limply on his neck.

“Sammy?” His brother’s name flows quickly from Dean’s lips. Oh my God, he’s not breathing. He latches his fingers tightly around Sam’s arms and lowers him from the front seat to the ground beside the car. Okay, okay, CPR…okay, I can do this. He checks his brother’s airway, realizing it’s still being blocked. He gently turns Sam over and rams his heal of his palm against his brother’s back, hard, several times in succession. He flops Sam back over and sticks two fingers inside his brother’s mouth. He feels the pork rind still lodged in the back of Sammy’s throat and he yanks it out quickly. He waits just a moment, watching to see if Sammy breaths.

Nothing happens. Sam’s unmoving, eyes closed, his lips a dark shade of blue. His chest isn’t rising – no air ghosting past his lips.
Dean’s body kicks into full big brother mode. Breathe Sammy. Dean lifts Sam's chin up, his mouth covering his brothers. He pushes air across his lips, two breathes. He moves to chest compressions one thought swirling through his head. Breathe Sam, Breathe. He places the heel of his right hand on Sam's breastbone and places the heel of his left hand on top of his right. Then he moves so that his body is directly over his hands. He remembers learning this from his Dad. He gives Sam 30 fast chest compressions.

“Damn it Sammy, don’t do this, don’t you do this,” tears well up in his eyes.
And nothing happens. He looks at Sam’s pale face. Oh God, he wills himself not to panic. The older brother frantically repeats the process, sweat beading on his brow. He never takes his eyes off Sam, he never loses hope.
And then it happens, Sam shudders in a breath, and then two. Dean stops his frantic motions, and focuses on Sam’s face. His hand presses the side of Sam’s cheek, eyes watching as color slowly returns. Sam’s eyes blink slowly open.

“Sam? Sammy its okay, just breathe, you’re okay.” Thank you God.

“D…De...n?” Sam’s voice is hoarse and shaky.

Dean’s arms wrap around his little brother and tug him to rest against his chest. Sam’s head lolls against him, as he gulps in oxygen like there’s no tomorrow. Sluggish eyes blinking up at Dean in confusion.

“It’s okay Sammy, you’re gonna be okay.” Dean hiccups and swallows down the knot that’s just setting in his throat. He blinks back the tears.

“Don’t talk, you just breathe, okay.” Dean’s voice is shaking and Sam looks curiously at his older brother’s face.

Dean releases a long sigh, and hugs Sam closer.

They set like that for a long time, the moon rising in the sky. Sam too tired to move, too confused to know why they’re even here. Dean too overwhelmed with relief to let his little brother go.



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