TO THE BATCAVE

By: Karen B

Summary: Season eight spoiler warning. Holy awesome episode, supernatural dreamers. A very short missing scene for 8X13

Disclaimer: Not the owner

Dean: I'm Batman.

Sam: (sarcastically) Yeah, you're Batman. ~ Bad Day at Black Rock.

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Bone-shuddering terror coursed through my veins, while death-numbing poison coursed through Sam's.

In only a matter of minutes his breathing had become short and strained, skin ice-cold. My trembling fingers barely detecting a pulse.

"No, no, no," I muttered helplessly. "Bitch. You damn well better not do this to me," I ordered harshly.

Sam didn't respond other than to make a strangled gurgling sound at the back of his throat.

"God, no." I crazily glanced around for some kind of help, but of course...there was none.

My dread was suddenly interrupted by a crash-bomb-bam, and then one set of heavy footsteps, and something else being dragged our way.

I wasn't sure Big-guy would come through. If he hadn't...I was pretty sure we were all dead.

Up on my feet, gun drawn, I waited. Ready to pull the trigger and send a slug through whoever or whatever I had to.

I didn't have to wait long, and the second Big-guy broke the smartass necromancer's neck at breakneck speed, it stopped the flow of poison flowing through my brother and Sammy gasped back to life.

"Heya, Sammy." I dropped to a crouch beside him and ran my fingers over his throat finding his pulse. His eyes stayed closed and his neck still looked bad, but the mark was fading and his heart rate was picking back up. "Look me in the eye, Sam. Look here," I called trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

Sam groaned.

"Look here," I said louder, snapping my fingers in front of Sam's face trying to get his undivided attentions.

Sam twitched and quivered, but that was it.

"Oh, come on buddy, open your eyes. You can do that much for me."

When he didn't, I used my thumb to force-pry one of his eyelids open.

Sam groaned again - in obvious agitation - but this time got his other eyeball open and blinked at me all on his own.

"That a boy," I coaxed. "Try to stay awake, huh?"

Sam held my gaze.

The familiar thumping sound of a dead body grabbed my attention momentarily. Looking over my shoulder, I watched the Golem lumber past us. Dragging his kill down the steps and coming to stand sentry over Aaron, who was still out cold.

Sam huffed out a lungful of air and then sucked a lungful back in, recapturing my attention.

"How's your neck feel?" I asked, turning back to him and tentatively exploring the area.

It was puffed up and still deep-purple in some spots.

Sam blinked heavily at me, but didn't answer.

"Looks like it burns like a son of a bitch," I answered for him.

Sam coughed up a bit of saliva and I wiped the dribble from his chin with the sleeve of my jacket. "Gross, man."

"Is it…is it," Sam crocked, sluggishly looking around, "Over?" He questioned in a hoarse whisper.

"It's under control," I growled, sickened by how fast I could have lost him – again. "You missed the stage show," I said lightly.

"Wha'?" he asked, head nodding weakly as he fought to sit up straighter.

"Never mind, geek." Effortlessly I pushed Sam back agasint the support of the glass. "You're not going anywhere just yet."

"Fine…I'm..." Sam's eyes fluttered, "I'm fine."

"Sure you are, dude." I patted his chest leaving my hand there. "All except for that tramp-stamp on your neck, and the fact you can barely raise an eyebrow."

"Stand me up." Sam fumbled for a hold of my arm but couldn't seem to get his fingers to work.

"Bro, just chill." I caught hold of his hand and held it tight, sitting down next to him.

Sam's fingers loosely wrapped around mine, flexing and trying to grip my hand back just as tight, but couldn't quit find the strength to do so.

"Take it easy, tiger."

"I did good?" He slid sideways across the glass, flopping against me.

"Was a pretty pansy-ass-cry for help there, pal, but yeah, you did good, little brother." I gathered him close. "We got the ledger. Dick-wad got his neck snapped."

"Good," Sam repeated, his body going slack, eyes slipping shut.

"Hey!" I jostled him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Just gonna take li'l nap," Sam slurred, his wobbly head now resting on my shoulder, all thoughts of standing forgotten.

"Nope." I gave a shrug, bringing his head back up. "Time to go. Come on." I slung one of his Taffey-like arms over my shoulder, wrapping my arm around his waist, and pulled him upward.

Sam had to summon all his strength just to come to his feet even with me helping him, his face creased with pain.

"Okay?" I nodded.

Sam grimaced as he tried to steady himself. "O – "

He didn't even get past the first syllable when his body went real rigid and his eyes rolled back into his head, slithering out of my hold toward the steps.

"Crap!" I caught him before he could hit his knees, getting his feet back under him and doing a balancing act on the stairs.

"Guh." Sam's head sagged off to one side, eyes at half-mast.

"Sammy! I told you, man, stay with me," I berated, cupping his chin with one hand and lifting his head up. "Sam, you with me?" I demanded angrily.

"With you," he breathed heavily, pale and glossy-eyed. "I'm with…with you."

His whole body trembled, but he managed to hold up his part of his weight; which wasn't much.

"Uh-huh," I muttered. "You know who I am?" I tested.

"Yeah," Sam moaned. "You're Batman," he said with total sincerity.

I drew back, feeling my eyes pop wide.

Sam flashed me a weak, teasing smile, head still wobbly in my grasp like a bobble-head doll.

I sighed, "And don't you ever friggin' forget it, Samantha," I stated with confidence, quickly composing myself. "To the Batcave," I grouched, carefully heading us down the last few steps.

"You've always wanted to…to say that," Sam groused, stumbling over his own feet as we went.

"Yes. I have," I said with total satisfaction, hitching Sam closer to my side, Mr. Potato Head at our backs carrying Aaron and the mangled necromancer – one slung over each arm like matching luggage.

The end.