Claustrophobic

Tag to Season 2 Episode 12, 'Nightshifter'. WARNNGS: Spoilers. What if Sam was claustrophobic and Dean forgot when he locked Sam in the vault of the bank?

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Chapter 1:

As soon as the thick vault door shut, he started wishing Dean would just hurry up and find the damn shifter before he has a full-blown panic attack right here in front of the civilians. Already the walls were closing in around him, and his breathing unconsciously accelerated. He fought to keep himself calm as he pressed himself into the wall of lockboxes. Sherri came right up to him, almost pressing herself against him, and started telling him about how dreamy his older brother was and he could do nothing but roll his eyes and slowly inch away from her as he fought to keep calm.

He couldn't really hear what she was saying, but her voice grated on his eardrums, competing with his racing heart. He attempted to focus on her high-pitched voice, telling himself to just calm down, Dean will be back soon, you're fine.

He kept inching away, but she followed, never actually registering his discomfort. His breathing was shallow, and no oxygen seemed to enter. His chest heaved harder and faster as he slid himself into a corner. Everything was starting to collapse on him, he was running out of air; the vault was shrinking, pushing each oblivious person closer. He tried desperately to keep himself under control for the bankers and civilians trapped with him. Oh, right-trapped.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Those four words had somehow gotten through to him, and he looked down at Sherri. The woman had him cornered, and confusion was carved into her features. He made no sound as he slid down the wall, curling his knees up to his chest and pulling them in closer to his torso. His eyes flicked around the slowly narrowing space, each person bearing down on him, menacing without trying. A small whimper came from nearby (maybe it was from him), and he collapsed under the panic as the walls crashed down on him. He gasped, fear overwhelming his senses. Jess was on the ceiling again, and everyone around him burst into flames.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CLAUSTROPHOBIC~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He's having a panic attack!" one of the women yelled. They didn't know what to do; the tall man, who seemed so strong and tough, was curled into a ball in the corner, silent tears streaming down his handsome face. A couple men ran over to the vault door, pounding on it, shouting for that Dean guy and the admittedly pathetic robber to come back, hoping they could do something. Sherri backed away from him, horrified at his reaction. She hadn't meant to. She didn't know the guy would freak out on her.

Frannie stepped forward, kneeling in front of the guy. He seemed to stare right through her in his panic as his gaze swept over her. He was whimpering lowly, occasionally getting out a syllable. "De…"

"He's trying to call Dean!" Frannie announced, turning to her coworkers. "We gotta get him in here!"

"DEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAN!" Sam buried his face in his knees as tears raced down, sobs forcing their way out of him as his shoulders tensed further and shook harder. The young man gasped for air, crying into his knees as his panic tripled.

"What are we gonna do?" Sherri asked, speaking to no one and everyone. Frannie shrugged, standing up.

"Get Dean here, I guess," she answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CLAUSTROPHOBIC~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean knew there was something wrong the moment he heard it. Ron was in front of him, checking out the office excitedly, flashlight waving as an effective beacon.

"Hey, Ron, did you hear that?" he asked. Ron turned to him, gun half-raised in faulty preparedness.

"Hear what? That vault's virtually soundproof. We wouldn't be able to hear anything unless the mandroid/shifter's nearby," Ron explained. Dean felt something nag at him deep in the back of his mind. He couldn't put a finger on it, until he heard it again.

"SAM! He's claustrophobic! Shit, I can't believe I forgot!" Ron followed him as he sprinted back to the vault, fear encompassing him as he heard the sound again, this time he could make it out. It was, in fact, Sam. His little brother, who was afraid of enclosed spaces, was screaming his name, pure terror helping his voice pierce through the thick vault door. "SAMMY!" He, with the help of Ron, dragged the heavy door open. The civilians in front of the vault door leapt out of the way as Dean charged past to his baby brother, kneeling in front of him.

Dean's heart shattered as soon as he saw the tears on his little brother's face. His hazel eyes were dark with panic, pupils blown wide. He slowly reached forward, gently cupping Sam's cheek, wiping away a tear streak with his thumb. Sam whimpered, and the sound almost pushed him out of the slow-moving, calm pretense he was trying damn hard to keep up.

"Shhh, Sammy, it's okay. I'm here. Shhh," Dean mumbled, slowly moving closer to his sobbing and shaking kid brother. "Shhhhh. I've got you." Those last three words connected with something in Sam's head, because he threw himself into Dean's arms, crying harder as he allowed himself the comfort of his brother. Dean carded a hand through his little brother's soft brown locks, rubbing circles into his heaving back. "It's all over, Sammy. You're fine. You're okay. It's all over. Shhh." With a final, soft sniffle, after however many minutes the brothers had been sitting there, Sam stopped bawling, but the shaking didn't stop. The bank workers were astounded at the way Dean easily calmed Sam, having tried themselves only minutes before.

Dean buried his nose in Sam's hair, breathing in his scent. "I'm so sorry." Sam pulled back enough to look in Dean's eyes, and shook his head, giving him a small smile. Dean smiled back, and pulled his Sammy closer, rubbing his back as the shaking subsided.

"Now go get the son of a bitch," Sam ordered teasingly, pushing Dean away as they stood. Dean snorted and left the vault, leaving Sam outside to guard it. "Jerk!"

"Bitch!"