It's been a while my friendlings :O Haven't written anything in ages, due to exams and the like, but I finally got around to finishing this off, a little something I wrote last year. I guess not only was I dying for a little bit of wee!chester love, but I was feeling very "The brother's relationship is amazing :'("-esque (if that makes any sense) lately, and so I came back to it :)

Dean stretched a strong leg up onto the diving board, marvelling at his muscular reflection in the murky water below him. His younger brother, Sam, stood uneasily to the right of him, staring blankly at his one idol in life. He wanted nothing more than to be his brother. Dean got so much attention from everyone, whether it was from the girls that seemed to follow him up the streets of the towns they visited, to the boys who glared enviously at his pretty-boy face, or from their very own father.

"Okay, Sammy," Dean started, shaking his leg as the cold air around him began to bite viciously. The deserted motel seemed to grow silent as Dean's voice rang out, loud and clear. Dean knew if he was going to get Sam in the water, he needed to be calm. He took a breath, ignoring the rush of cold air that raced down his throat. "Pretend you're catching, I don't know, some sort of underwater monster, like Dad."

Dad.

Their father was the only reason they were stuck in this place. How long had they been stuck in that pigsty of a room? Hell, the repulsive water below Dean seemed a lot more alluring than the cartons of fast-food littered around their room, the stench of rotten food because they wouldn't allow the damn maid in to clean the place up. His Dad wouldn't be mad if he taught Sam how to swim, it was a valuable life lesson. He hoped. That was if he could get Sam in the water in the first place.

"The only thing I'm going to catch in there is some sort of disease," his younger brother complained, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot. Despite the fact he was one hundred percent certain there was no one else here, he still felt like someone was watching over him. Tugging desperately at his one-size-too-small Batman trunks, he glared indignantly at his brother. "I don't think I wanna learn how to swim anymore."

"Sam, it's only water," Dean groaned. Sam could be such a girl sometimes.

"I really don't think that's water…"

"Chicken," Dean coughed. Sam continued to glare. "No wonder Dad thinks you're a girl."

"Does not!"

"Does too."

"Whatever," Sam shrugged, moving ever so slowly towards the edge of the cold concrete, which lined the brown water. He mustered up his courage to dip a single toe into the filthy liquid that seemed to be frothing at the edges. He wasn't going to let Dean stand by and call him a girl. Sam Winchester wasn't a girl. The water ran over his toe, it's texture more like a bowl of porridge than water. "Ew."

Sam jumped violently as a splash of water directed his attention back to the diving board. All that remained of his brother's presence was the slow squeaking of the diving board, as it bounced hauntingly up and down. Cautiously removing his toe from the pool, he scanned his eyes along the surface of the discoloured water, barely able to see anything below the surface. At the end of the small pool, Dean resurfaced, rubbing his eyes violently. Sam told him he should have worn goggles earlier, but Dean always knew best. He was older after all. Sam snorted a little.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked, after watching his brother frantically rubbing his eyes for a few seconds. He was surprised Dean hadn't swam into the dead corpse of a tramp.

"The water's great, come on in!" Dean called out, in between coughs that made his entire head jerk forward. Sam wasn't sure if his brother was being sarcastic or not.

"You should probably get out now. I can learn how to swim when someone actually cleans the pool." Sam muttered, his voice carrying through the silent air as if he had yelled it. Dean chuckled.

"Woman," he quipped. Sam winced at the below belt insult.

"Fine, I'll get in. If I get eaten by the mud monster, it's your fault."

"Agreed."

Sam nodded, making his way ever so slightly to the end of the pool Dean so leisurely relaxed in.

"Sam! What the hell are you doing?"

Sam waited for his father's yell to carry across the windy courtyard, but the words never came.

"Quit just standin' there, Sam. Hurry up. I'm getting cold." Dean swam in circles, making sure his feet never touched the bottom of the shallow pool, scared of what they might brush against. A supermarket basket? A pile of gunk? The dead body of a cat?

Sam stretched onto the board, taking a few steps back in shock as the thing bounced gratefully with his weight. A quick glance towards Dean, who rolled his eyes dramatically, gave him the push to get to the end of the dirtied piece of plastic.

"Here goes…"

Sam blinked for merely a second, before his foot went slipping in the wrong direction. "Whoa- Dean!" He flew backwards in the air, back hitting off the board before he went tumbling into the murky depths of the motel pool.

Splash.

"Sam? Sammy!"

Was he drowning? He didn't think so. He just couldn't find the top of the water. Whatever you do, don't breathe in.

Sam could hear the gurgles of his brother's voice call out desperately. A rough pair of hands pulled him upright in the water.

"Damn it, Sam."

His little brother coughed and spluttered, clawing for the edge of the pool. Dean obliged, lifting him up and over the side. He clambered out after him.

"Sammy, you okay?" Kneeling by his side, he wiped a branch from his brother's forehead, desperately holding the kid's head in his hands. Sam coughed roughly in response. His lips were matted in a light brown dirt. Dean wouldn't be surprised if he himself looked as bad. Bitter cold stung at his back, worse now that he was drenched in water.

"Don't do that again, I thought you were gonna drown. Near gave me a heart attack. You hear me? Sam!" A small smile from Sam reassured him he was okay. Dean sighed gruffly, "Damn it. You could have drowned."

"I'm okay, I promise." Dean lifted him back on his legs, they shook slightly, seemingly paranoid that he would slip again, even on the safe concrete. "I just slipped."

"You're gonna get pneumonia. C'mon." Dean trailed his brother towards the door of their room. The rumble of a car engine stopped them in their tracks. John was back. Tired and on the warpath.

"Sam? Dean?" He called, confused by the sight before him.

That was just Dean's luck. He was in for it.

"What the hell happened Dean?" His Dad rushed towards Sam, bending down and offering him his coat without hesitation. Dean didn't realise how his brother must have looked from another person's point of view. Covered in dirt, shivering like a wreck. He looked like a mess. If Dean was honest, he was just as bad. He didn't even get a second glance. "I asked you a question, Dean."

"I wanted to teach him to swim. You know, 'cause you don't have time and...stuff."

"And instead you nearly let him drown?" His Dad was staring Sam in the eyes, as if judging the damage done. "I leave you for a few days and I come back to this? Damn it, Dean."

"He just slipped, he's okay now. Right, Sammy?"

"I'm okay, Dad. Really." Sam assured the man, nodding to reinforce the point. "I slipped on something and fell in."

"What if he had've slipped and cracked his head, Dean?" His Dad continued the ruthless interrogation, ignoring Sam's pleas. "Sometimes I wish you'd be a bit more responsible for your brother."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I guess I didn't think…" Dean shrugged, rubbing his arms roughly. "I just wanted to…"

"Get your brother some dry clothes and then come help me unpack the car. Or is that too much for you to handle?" John barked. With a shake of his head, Dean led his brother to their room.

"Look, I'm sorry, Dean. You just scared me a bit. Are you okay?"

Dean waited for his father's worried apology to carry across the windy courtyard.

But the words never came.

xo