Soul Keeper...

Sam's head lolled onto his shoulder, his tongue halfway poked out of his mouth giving him a puppy dog look. One hand over his crotch and the other behind his head, his eyes shut fast. A pool of drool collected on his chest as Dean tried to stifle a laugh at his brother's position. Trees, bushes, the occasional broken down car on the side of the road and a few signs whizzed past as the impala roared down the near deserted highway.

They had just come out of a job out of Wisconsin and were on their way to Michigan, to Beaver Island of all places. Dean had scoffed when Sam had told him about the disappearances off of trails through the Jordan River State Forest. Expecting to hear more information about the Jordan River whatsit, Dean had waited for more, and waited… and waited. He had looked up from his regular black coffee (with MORE coffee to wake him up) to find Sam's pale face staring at something on his laptop's screen. "Dude what is it? You found porn?" He asked with an innocent tone. "Oh f#k you Dean – no, it's just… it's… uhhh…" He faltered and trailed off. Dean sighed in exasperation before getting up to take a look at the website Sam had pulled up. Dean looked from the laptop to Sam a few times more than necessary before speaking up albeit bewilderedly, "Dude? You've gone pale looking at the boat rides?" Sam shoved him in the arm. "Dude, you know I get seasick. Remember the ferry ride you took me on when I was six? Remember the state of your shoes after it? Need I re-enact it?" "F#k no! Yes I remember…"

Flashback...

Dean sneaks up on Sam,"BOO! Sammy, guess what??"
Sam screams and kicks back, landing Dean a foot to the shin. "Ow Sammy!"
"What do you want Dean?"
"We're gonna have the day to ourselves! Dad's off on a hunt so we're gonna go and have some fun." Dean grabbed Sam's hand and led him through the motel room to his backpack to pull out suitable clothes.
"Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah Sammy?"
"Where are we gonna go?"
"Well, there's a cemetery around the corner, a haunted house across the road…" Dean grinned.
"No! I thought we were gonna have some fun!" Sam stared at Dean with fearful eyes.
"I'm only kidding Sammy, we're gonna go on a ferry ride, and maybe get an ice cream."
"I've never been on a ferry, Dean."
"Neither have I Sammy, but you never know if you don't try it so we're gonna have fun."

When the boys were ready, Dean took Sam's hand and led him across the street. They walked past the haunted house Dean had mentioned, Sam felt a shiver run up and down his spine before speeding up, pulling Dean further along. Dean sped up to the same pace, "You know, you should be fine with haunted houses, you know what Dad does, what we do…" Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean, "Doesn't mean I can't hate them." Dean sighed and rolled his eyes before gripping his brother's hand a little tighter and making a turn towards the jetty.

When they arrived, Dean paid the lady at the booth for a day ticket before Sam and Dean walked through the turnstiles towards their ferry. They got to the ramp to walk onto the boat before Sam stopped at the edge of the platform. "What is it Sammy?", "That water looks awfully gross…", "Yeah well we're not going swimming Sammy, we're going for a ferry ride." With a little coaxing, Dean half dragged, half carried Sam onto the ferry, Sam scrambled into Dean's jacket when they came perilously close to the edge of the ramp and stayed hidden in his jacket until Dean half dumped, half threw Sam onto a chair at the bow of the ferry. "You're a big baby!" Dean laughed. "Shut up!" Sam curled up into his seat as Dean went to the railing to look down into the water. "Oh Sammy?" Dean called from over his shoulder, a wild grin on his face as he stepped up onto the first rung of the rail, he then swung his other leg over the side as he heard a squeal from behind him. Dean barely had time to guffaw at his brother's reaction before he was yanked by the back of his jacket to the floor of the deck by a panicked Sam. "OW SAM! I fell on my ass you idiot!", "Serves you right, you scared me!" Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. They went and took a couple of seats to wait for the ferry to grumble into motion. The last of the passengers filled the rest of the seats before they heard a low growl of metal on metal as the ferry's underbelly whirred into life. "Dean! Is it supposed to sound like that????" Sam asked, frightened. "I'm sure it's normal…" And in an undertone he added, "Nothing more normal than what we do…", "What Dean?", "Nothing Sam…" The ferry began to rock from side to side, hitting the side of the jetty a couple of times before stealing out of the dock. "Dean?"
"Yeah Sam?"
"I don't feel so good."
Dean turned to Sam, his face was a brilliant pale pea green and his eyes were wide.
"You okay?" Dean asked, a little unnecessarily.
Sam had no time to answer. The ferry shook to Dean's side of the boat as Sam dry retched.
"Oh dude, you better not - " Dean was cut off as Sam bent double and threw up all over the floor…. And Dean's shoes.
"OH SAMMY!"
Sam merely cried and continued to dry retch. Dean kicked off his sodden shoes as a few people turned in their seats to see what the kerfuffle was about. Dean shoved the now sticky and stinky shoes under his seat and dragged Sam off to a bathroom.

Sam shuddered. Dean shuddered almost a millisecond later, both obviously thinking through the same thing. Sam groaned and shut the laptop. Dean sat back down in his seat taking a long sip of his strong coffee. "So, Jordan River State Forest it is then…" Dean stated. "You realize that's the name of that British model?" Sam asked. "Oh yeah big fake breasts, man… that's kinda scary…" "Too true…" "Hey, isn't that forest on Beaver island?" Dean asked with a suggestive smirk. "Sometimes I worry about you and your mind, unhealthy amount of dirtiness, you should clean it out sometime." "Never, Sammy, never." Dean grinned his trademark grin. Sam sighed and shook his head, he grinned… a little. "So what's with this forest thing then?" "Well… people have been going missing on the hikes through the forest. They go in, in groups and come out half the size of the group that went in, in the first place." "So what's so weird about that?", "Well… the survivors… their memories are erased." "What do you mean erased?", "They have no recollection at all of what went on in the forest, nor do they even know who they are, it's like their pasts are wiped clean.", "Okay, weird."

Sam awoke with a snort. Dean laughed as he turned up Nirvana's Come as you are. Sam rubbed at his forehead, his eyes squinting in the brightness of day. His face scrunched up into a frown as the music blared from the impala's speakers. He could barely hear Dean's mischievous laughter over the noise. Sam blindly reached for the volume control and turned it down to a bearable minimum. "Awww you're no fun." Dean sulked. "How much YAWN longer?" Sam asked thickly. "Nearly there…"

Five minutes later

"Are we there yet?" Sam asked.
"Not yet, Sammy."

Another five minutes later

"Are we there yet?" Sam asked with a grin, knowing it would piss Dean off.
"Nope."

Four minutes later

"We there yet?"
silence

Three minutes later

"Do you think we'll be there yet?"
"F#k off Sam…"

Sam grinned and shut his mouth, he got what he wanted.
"Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Five more minutes." Dean grinned. Sam grinned and shook his head. Sam rested his shoulder on the ledge of the window and looked out at the lake. They'd been driving alongside Lake Michigan and Sam could almost see Beaver Island off in the distance. Sam gulped. He didn't like boats, not at all. Swimming was fine but boats made him… seasick, and that was a horrible feeling. Sam chewed on a fingernail as they drew closer and closer to the jetty they'd be taking a boat from. Sam didn't even notice as Dean turned the key in the ignition, effectively killing the engine. Dean unbuckled himself and opened the door before looking over at Sam. He looked like he was brooding… brooding… what was with that boy and brooding? Dean picked up an unloaded gun from the back seat and threw it at Sam to break him away from his thoughts. Unfortunately, Dean didn't expect it to be such a perfect shot, hitting Sam in the forehead with the handle of the gun. "OWWWWW!!!!" Was all Sam could utter before scrambling in his seat to find what had hit him. He picked up the gun and looked pointedly at Dean. "What?" Dean asked with an innocent grin. "You are unbelievable, that gun could have been loaded." Sam rubbed at the angry red swell on his forehead; if looks could kill, Dean would be further than six feet under. Sam turned his gaze away from his brother and opened his door, swinging his legs out he stood out and in the blaze of the overhead sun. He turned to look at Dean. "This had better not take any longer that necessary." Sam warned. "Well… I think I should warn you now, but the boat we're going across in is much, much smaller than the ferry we went on when we were kids. It's gonna be a whole lot worse…"
"Greeeaaat, just what I needed."
"Oh and Sammy?"
"What?" Sam gave Dean a reproachful glare.
"Try aiming over the side and not for my shoes, kay?" Dean grinned.
"I hate you so much." Dean grabbed Sam by the arm and they both made their way down to the jetty.

The water proved choppier than they had anticipated. Sam clutched the side of the boat, his knuckles going white with the pressure of holding on as if his very life depended upon it. Dean casually sat back, enjoying the ride. Sam was white as a ghost, a pale green tinge set permanently into the pigmentation of his face. Dean wore an expression of indifference. The driver of the boat was merely concentrated on making it across Lake Michigan alive. Dean had called an old contact out of his father's journal, Mikey Flanagan – 0436 679 432 – Hunter/Boater – Lake Michigan, before he and Sam had left for Beaver Island in the first place. It made it easier for them and they didn't have to pay for a ride across the lake. Score.

After being bumped about by another tirade of rogue waves, Sam went green.
"Can we PLEASE just get there NOW?!?!?!" Sam held a hand to his stomach, the other still clasped tight over the edge of the boat.
"Juuuust keep your eyes on the island ahead, it helps to focus on unmoving objects, we'll be there soon." Mikey offered.
"Well that's hard to do when we lose sight of land every so often!!!" Sam started dry retching.
"Dude! Keep your cool!" Dean chastised.
Sam threw Dean a reproving glare. Sam had started to snipe back as a bout of sickness overcame him. He threw his head over the side and emptied the contents of his stomach into the murky water.
"He really doesn't like boats, does he?" Mikey asked over his shoulder.
"Childhood fear." Dean explained simply.

Mikey gave him a nod in understanding and got back to driving the boat. Sam continued to heave at the edge of the boat. Dean made his way over to lay a hand on his back before consoling him, "Dude, you lean any further over the edge and you'll fall in." Dean grinned. "I…" Sam started to say, retching again, "Hate…", Sam breathed heavily, trying to control his churning stomach, "Hate me?" Dean offered. "Oh god." Sam managed to gasp out.

After another twenty minutes on the choppy waters they reached the dock on the South end of Beaver Island. Dean had taken to rubbing Sam's back in circles as he heaved, occasionally throwing up something. Sam was amazed he had so much in his stomach yet it did come. Mikey had sped up when he saw Land was within reach, he didn't want to take any chances of vomit in the boat, and it would be nasty job to clean up. Sam gingerly stepped out of the boat and onto the jetty before promptly crumpling into a heap. Stepping off of the boat after being on it for so long mixed in with losing the contents of his stomach and quite possibly his lower organs, Sam had felt queasy. Dean followed Sam out of the boat as Mickey killed the engine, placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and waited for Mickey to join them.
"Want help gettin' this one to a car?" Mickey offered.
"That, would be great."

TBC...