PART TWO
It was true that Sam had lived through a lot. In his life as a hunter he'd been shot, strangled, kicked and cut open. He'd been burned and slashed and even tortured. And yes, he'd also almost drowned once or twice so it wasn't really surprising that his mind was strangely clear as he realized his situation. And the thought Huh? Last time I drowned it definitely didn't feel as peaceful wasn't weird at all. Right?
Where there should been pain there was now a strangely mollified peace. No panic, just simple acceptance and an almost surreal serenity.
How the heck could Sam be that focused on his mental state when he should be dying but at the same time...wasn't?
That thought made him open his eyes and he blinked lazily. And indeed, he was still under water. No question. He was deep enough that the water was murky and brownish, the sand and mud under his feet stirred from his constant kicking was making it hard to see farther than a few feet. Opening his mouth, he tasted the cool, dirty liquid and closed it again. His lungs expanded and Sam pressed his right hand against his chest, which felt fine. There was a pain in his shoulder and he remembered being shot at but it was nothing compared to the agony his lungs had had to suffer as he'd felt the water rush through his nose and into his airway right into his body.
So, how come he was still alive?
Weaving his hands up and down he turned around slowly and recoiled with an unheard scream as he found his brother next to him. Dean's eyes were closed and even though they found themselves on the murky ground of a lake Sam could clearly see an angry stripe on his brother's temple that went on few inches under his hairline where blood was constantly being washed out. They had shot Dean in the head. In the freaking head.
Forgetting about the mystery of his sudden merman state Sam touched Dean's face, his fingers blindly searching for a pulse. The mud made his fingers slippery and he searched for a while before he found the comforting beat just below his brother's skin. Relief flooded through Sam and as he saw small bubbles rise from between Dean's lips he was confident his brother was breathing, too.
Great. First step made. Now he could concentrate on what the heck was going on here.
They were deep under water. Sam estimated at least 15 feet as the far away light indicated. Twirling around in a circle Sam couldn't see more than a few shapeless blobs until he saw a white face - just an arm's length away - staring at him, waiting for him to realize it was there. Sam gave a shout of surprise but the only thing that left his mouth were multi-sized bubbles, rising up fast.
Be still, child. He heard a voice. It was a little contorted but still amazingly audible from where Sam was standing. He couldn't say whether it was male or female. It was just clear and soothing and so endlessly wise that Sam complied without resistance.
It was more a reflex that made his lips move as if he wanted to say something but only more bubbles rose in front of his nose and he tried to make his face as questioning as possible.
You're safe. Don't worry.
Well, Sam had already gotten that at least, more or less.
Putting himself between the creature and his brother, he stared at it, now only inches away from him. It had come close enough that Sam could see its hair flying lazily around its head. White strands that were almost dancing around a longish face with big green eyes that seemed too large. High cheek bones, a straight nose and a pointed chin made it almost look like a caricature version of Cher in one of Jess's favorite movies. Wouldn't that be too funny to have found the inspiration for her movie Mermaids?
The surprise must have shown on Sam's face because the creature smiled pleasantly.
I want to help. I'm not going to hurt you. And I know you're not going to hurt me, Samuel.
Sam knew he really should stop being surprised at this point and he waited for the creature to continue.
Who are you? What are you? Sam thought, trying to make the creature understand and from the way it tilted its head Sam was pretty sure it did understand him.
I know who I am. But I'm not sure how to explain you what I am. I just am.
The water around them was barely moving. Nothing but darkness, silence and an uncomfortable pressure, as if they were buried under a few tons of rubble. Here, deep down, no wind was disturbing the water and since he had stopped kicking the sand had settled down around him, making the environment clearer and less murky.
You're a water sprite, aren't you? Sam wondered and the creature smiled. The amused expression made its face shine with a transcendental beauty that would have robbed Sam's breath if he weren't breathing water already.
I find it amusing that humans always must have words for everything.
So, he was actually talking with a water sprite. Sam pointed at his own chest. How do you do this?
I told you, I wanted to help. Its expression turned sad.
Did you help the boy too? Sam wanted to know.
The boy... The creatures eyes widened, the corners of its mouth wrinkled and it made such a shattering impression of utter distress and sadness that Sam regretted having asked in the first place. I wanted to help but I was too late. Its voice rose into such a wailing, pitying sound that Sam backed away, bumping against Dean who chose this moment to give a sign of life.
Sam turned around, seeing into the open eyes of his brother and into an expression of utter terror.
Dean! Sam meant to say but again bubbles rose from his mouth, making the whole situation more difficult. Dean started kicking and squirming as if he was in ropes and-not having another choice-Sam dug his shoe into the soft mud and kicked with all his might, taking Dean with him. It only took him a few seconds to reach the surface, quickly followed by Dean.
Sam's fingers were wrapped around Dean's collar and if it hadn't been for the death grip he would have lost contact. Gasping for air, Dean had his head tilted backwards. Little waves were crashing against his jaw and his floundering didn't exactly help with the staying above the surface. His mouth was wide open as if he wanted to take in three breaths at the same time and there was something wild in his eyes. Confusion and still a hint of the panic Sam had seen on the bottom of the lake. Now that the wound on his head wasn't constantly washed out, blood was starting to flow from it, covering his whole left side with a watery red film.
"Calm down, Dean, I've got you," Sam bellowed, painfully coughing up some water and began to swim towards the shore. It took him a few powerful kicks to drag himself and his brother far enough that he could finally feel the ground beneath his feet. Dean had gone still but after a reassuring glance Sam could see he was awake albeit groggy. The blood made his face look pale and the whites of his eyes stood out like a caught rabbit's.
"Sam?" Dean croaked as Sam pulled him closer and helped him get on his feet.
"Yeah?"
"What the..." Dean began but a violent coughing fit stopped him. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's torso and helped him waddle to solid ground where they both dropped down, all energy deflating like a balloon poked with a hot needle. Another gush of water came out of Dean's mouth and he kept gagging on all fours, all the while being steadied by Sam who was nervously watching out for gung-ho hunters.
It seemed ages until Dean spit out the last drops of water that still leaked out between his bluish lips, which were slowly returning to a more healthy shade of pink. With a groan Dean let himself sink to the side and looked up at Sam.
"Dean? Are you okay?" Sam asked concerned, ignoring the trickle in his own throat. Clearing his throat he spat out some lake water and put a hand against Dean's neck, unnecessarily checking for Dean's pulse.
His hand was promptly pushed aside as Dean said grumpily: "I'm fine. Stop fussing." After one last cough he took a deep breath, apparently relishing the feeling of his expanding lungs with a contented sigh but it was quickly swept away with a groan as he obviously realized there was something wrong with his head. Lifting his left hand he touched his temple before Sam could stop him and hissed angrily.
"What happened?" Dean wanted to know, blinking a few times. Then he got his elbows under him and pushed himself into a sitting position, letting his head hang between his knees.
"You were shot at," Sam explained flatly. "Then fell into the water."
Dean looked up, looking him in the eyes, then understanding lit up in these hazel orbs and a jerk went through his body.
"In the water... there was something in the water," Dean said, staring out at the lake. "Did you see it? How did you..." Dean blinked again, then looked back at Sam. "You're wet."
Rolling his eyes Sam relaxed slightly, letting his adrenaline level finally ebb away. His right shoulder twinged and when he guided his hand towards it a sharp pain made him wince.
"You're such a genius, man," Sam said and looked down at his soaked clothes. The blue denim made it impossible to see but he knew the bullet had merely grazed his shoulder. It probably wouldn't even need stitches. Carefully he lifted his arm to make sure all his muscles were intact.
"Are you hurt?" Dean wanted to know, worried all of a sudden and he pulled himself up, helping Sam out his jacket.
"Not worth mentioning," Sam replied, then grinned lopsidedly. "We're quite a pair." He stood up, helping his brother on his feet and they swayed for a few seconds before they found their balance.
"Hey! You!"
A yell made them turn around and they watched as a man come out of the woods, a shotgun swung over his shoulder.
Sam stepped forward and could feel his brother's hands on his biceps, trying to hold him back from trampling the man to death. "You almost killed my brother!" he yelled back angrily and pointed a finger at the man, who looked apologetic enough.
"Sorry, boys," the man growled. "It was an accident, I swear. We didn't-" The man's eyes showed an honest shame as they traveled between the two brothers and Sam realized it really had been an accident. Not that it made things better. When the man had gotten close enough Sam shoved his finger against the unknown hunter's chest. "You could have killed us."
"Damn, I'm so sorry," the man repeated. "I just... I thought... I... Wait..." The man blinked, then really looked at them, his eyes narrowed. "You... you're the Winchester boys? Aren't you?" He swallowed and pain flickered over his visage, revealing a turmoil of emotions. "Those fuckers... they killed my son!" With his gun he pointed at the lake. "There's something in the water. It killed my boy. It killed my son."
"Mr. Weston... please," Sam began and for a moment suspicion flickered in the man's eyes at the mention of his name but Sam spoke already on. "There's got to be..." he started to insist but was interrupted by Dean.
"What's down there?"
"We don't know yet," Weston said, his voice now steadier, determined. "But whatever it is, I'm going to kill it."
Two more men now walked out of the forest, staying behind and observing, nervously stepping from one foot to the other
"Dean," Sam hissed and grabbed his brother's arm, pulling him a few feet to the side. In a low voice so the hunter couldn't hear him, he said: "Listen Dean, whatever's down there, it doesn't mean any harm. It saved you."
"Pulling people under water is a strange way of saving them."
Sam wiped water out of his eyes. "Please, Dean. You have to believe me. I really don't think the creature wanted to kill the boy."
Dean was silent for a moment. "What kind of creature are we talking about here anyway?"
"I'm not yet sure..."
"Is there anything you know for sure?"
"Yeah, Dean. In fact, there is. If it weren't for the creature, we wouldn't be standing here." He winced as he strained the muscles in his shoulder. "The only harm I see that's been done so far came out of the guns of these hunters."
There wasn't much Dean could reply to that and he capitulated with a sigh. "We should get you checked out."
"Me? I'm not the one with the hole in his head."
"I don't have..." A dizzy spell made Dean sway and Sam grabbed his brother's arm, holding him upright.
"See what I mean?" Sam said, then turned towards the hunter. "I'm getting my brother out of here."
He didn't wait for an answer and steered his brother back towards where the car was parked. He could see its chrome twinkling through the trees and it only took them a few minutes before they reached it.
"Give me the keys," Sam instructed.
"What? No. I'm driving." Dean countered. His face-at least the side that was still visible due to the waterish blood- revealed such a grimace of indignity that Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes.
" Dean, you can't even walk straight." As if on cue Dean stumbled, having to lean heavily on a tree in order to not fall down face first.
Grumbling, Dean rummaged around in his pockets, his eyes widening almost comically as he rummaged and rummaged and produced nothing but a sodden, wrinkled package of M&Ms.
"You're kidding, right?" Sam uttered. And if he kept rolling his eyes, they would stay stuck sooner or later.
"Those freaking-" Dean yelled and was on the verge of stomping back straight into the water-head injury forgotten-but Sam held him back.
"Dean, please." Sam winced as Dean shook off his grip, rattling his battered shoulder. The sound of distress was enough to make Dean stop in his tracks and his shoulders sagged visibly, worry for his brother overpowering his anger for the inconvenient fact that the car keys were somewhere on the bottom of this God-forsaken lake while the spare ones lay in the hotel room-safe and sound and out of reach.
"Okay, fine!" Dean took a calming breath and nodded, acting as if he was doing Sam a favor. But honestly, the younger man didn't care as long as this would mean medical attention for his brother and dry clothes for himself.
When they finally sat in the hot-wired car-with Dean sitting behind the wheel of course-Sam let himself sag against the backrest and close his eyes, teeth chattering all of a sudden. His soaked clothes were unpleasantly glued to his chilled skin and a drowsiness settled into his bones. Turning up the heat to full blast, Dean drove slowly over the bumpy road, be it due to his own aching head or his worry for Sam's injury. Probably a bit of both. He only sped up the car when they were back on the regular street.
"So, care to explain what exactly happened?" Dean demanded.
"Water fairies," Sam replied tiredly.
"I was shot in the head and you're the one hallucinating, that's just awesome," Dean frowned.
"No, Dean, I'm serious. I think there's some kind of water fairies or... sprites or something in that lake. It pulled you under water when these idiot hunters kept shooting at us."
"You're serious?"
"Of course, I'm serious. That's what I said."
"Then how come I didn't drown?"
Sam thought for a second before answering. "The creature did something so we could breathe." And before Dean could answer that he quickly added: "Yes, Dean. I'm still very serious."
"Okay, fine," Dean said. "So you jumped in the water and all of a sudden you went all Arielle?"
"If you want to put it like that? I guess so."
" That is the most weird thing that's ever happened to us," Dean said and Sam silently agreed. "So what did the creature look like?"
"Like Cher in Mermaids," Sam said and just like he'd expected, Dean looked at him, his eyes getting bigger and bigger. "What? It's the truth."
"Did it sing the Shoop-Shoop Song, too?"
Sam grinned. "Nope, just talked." Dean stayed silent, obviously expecting more to come. "When you woke up it wanted to tell me about the boy. It said it had just wanted to help. That's it. You really have a bad timing, by the way," he grunted.
"Sorry that my head-wound-induced unconsciousness was a source of inconvenience for you."
The car crossed into town and five minutes later Dean parked the car in front of a small building, which served as a tiny hospital and entered it, still leaving wet imprints on the tiles. A young intern, probably no older than Sam himself came towards them, his eyes round as saucers and a million questions on his lips. Sam knew they must have been making a miserable impression. Dean's face was mostly dry except for the thin crust of blood. Sam, in the meantime, tried really hard not to have his teeth chatter too loudly while he pressed his left hand against his still bleeding shoulder.
He really hoped, no one took pictures.
-o-
Dr. Carlita Kelly was a woman in her late forties with American Indian roots and a no-nonsense attitude that would have John begging for coaching lessons. With one quick evaluation she first cleaned Dean's head wound, asked the usual questions. No, no dizziness (at that point Sam threw Dean a warning look) well, maybe a little and You're holding up four fingers and sewed the wound closed with five stitches and the diagnosis of a light concussion.
Sam's shoulder was done even faster. She cleaned it, put some gauze on it and patted him on the unhurt shoulder. "As good as new," she informed them and Dean quickly had to hide his grin behind his hand at the uncomfortable look on Sam's face. The movement made dizzy Dean for the fraction of second. He closed his eyes a little too fast and had to swallow the bile. Unfortunately, this didn't go unnoticed by the doctor and she narrowed her eyes. "No dizziness, huh?"
He felt himself blush and managed a wry, apologetic grin, the dizziness already passing.
"Are you one of the hunters?" she asked, her tone almost unfriendly as she rummaged around in cupboard, then put a pill in Dean's hand, followed by a paper cup filled with water. "It'll help with the nausea," she explained, then stared at the two brothers. "So? Are you? Because I told you guys before, you should be leaving this town if you don't want to get into any more trouble."
Dean looked at Sam, both men sharing a surprised look and Sam stammered, "Uhh... no. We're not ...well we are hunters but..."
"No!" Dean interrupted harshly and hoped that it sounded honest enough. "We're not one of those hunters. We've only arrived in town today."
"So, you come into town and less than 12 hours later you're sitting in my hospital with gunshot wounds. Care to explain or should I call the sheriff immediately?"
"No," Sam said hastily. "There's no need to. It was an accident."
"An accident, huh? I seem to get a lot of those these days." She turned away, rearranging the medical tools and waste she had needed to patch them up, all the while mumbling. "Accidents my ass."
"Did you..." Sam started anew, "... treat the boy? The boy who died a few days ago?"
Her eyes sparkled with anger and an immense dosage of distrust that even Sam's puppy dog eyes couldn't make go away. It helped a little though and her hostility deflated slightly, replaced by a sudden sadness.
"Yes, but there was nothing to treat. The boy was long dead when he got here."
Dean tilted his head, surprised by the visual display of her compassion.
"We read about it in the paper," Dean said. "Heard he was pulled under water. We're..." he trailed off when his aching head made it impossible to come up with a credible explanation and Sam went on, as if they had planned the sentence from the beginning.
"... students from New York," Sam said, throwing a pointed glare at Dean. "We study zoology and ... well, we wanted to look into this case."
"Case? Sounds more like you're cops or something. But let me tell you this, you'll won't find some Nessie monster in that lake or some man-eating giant carnivorous plants. Enough people tried to find that already."
"But... I saw something," Sam said and stared almost ashamedly at the floor.
Damn, his brother would make one fine actor. Dean pressed a hand against his mouth to cover the grin, coughing to distract the doctor.
The doctor sighed, as if she had heard this particular sentence already too often. "It was probably a rotten tree trunk or a frog."
"No, it looked almost human," Sam insisted and this time, Dean looked up sharply more than a little surprised at Sam's sudden generosity of information.
"Sam!"
"No," Sam said with a pout. "I saw it. It helped us."
The woman looked up, almost curious now and to Dean's relief as much as his surprise her whole manner seemed to switch. "So, you've seen them too, huh?"
"Seen what?" Sam looked up, a look of hopeful wonder in his eyes that reminded Dean of a young Sam who heard the story of the Easter Bunny for the first time.
"The spirits in the water, of course," the doctor said and smiled with a hint of melancholy. "To our ancestors, this lake was sacred since it was believed that the ghost of our forefathers went to that lake after they died."
"Seriously?" Sam inquired, then-at Dean-, "See? I told you."
"Yeah, you did Sammy. You're a real genius."
Dr. Kelly huffed, amused. "So, you're brothers, huh?"
Even Dean widened his eyes in surprise and as if it would be explanation enough she said with twinkling eyes, "I have three sons in your age. I recognize a healthy dose of fraternal rivalry when I see it. So stop the act and tell me why you're here. You don't actually want me to believe that you're students."
Sam looked slightly offended by this remark and Dean almost snorted. Their cover was blown to hell and Sam was annoyed about not looking like a student? This was bizarre but Dean could see a smile play at the corners of the doctor's lips. "Don't take me for a fool, boys. I've seen enough bullshit in my life and you both are carrying bullshit around like caps on your head. So why are you really here?"
Dean's amusement died when she looked at him sharply and he felt himself blush-again. What was it with the woman in this town?
"I told the truth. We're here because of the dead boy," Sam insisted, his finally dry bangs hanging in his face.
"Who shot you? And don't tell me it was an accident."
"Well it was," Sam insisted.
"So, the hunters, huh? I knew the sheriff should have taken the whole thing more seriously in the first place."
Dean pricked up his ears. "What do you mean?"
"That boy?" Eyebrows wandered up and almost vanished into her graying hairline. "He was long dead when he was thrown into the water."
"What?" Sam asked. "But the newspaper..."
"... is wrong," she interrupted bluntly. "The sheriff didn't want to have any trouble in town so he went with the obvious. The boy jumped into the water, hit his head and drowned."
"Why are you telling us this?" Dean wanted to know, narrowing his eyes.
The doctor looked at Dean, then Sam. Then back at Dean. Crossing her arms resolutely in front of her chest she replied, "Because something tells me that you two will make sure this death won't go unrevenged. And take those pills," she instructed and without another word she left the room. Dean finally took the pill, swallowing it without the water.
"Is it just me or are the women in this town all crazy?" Sam muttered, almost causing Dean to cough the pill back up. Quickly, he took a sip of the water after all.
-o-
They spent the night in the motel-hungry, in Sam's case and sick with too much sugar in Dean's-and researched everything on the lake that they could find on the net.
The most remarkable thing about the lake, though, was the fact that it was remarkably unremarkable. Other than some tests performed in the late 90's which had stated that the water was clean enough to be used as a reservoir there was nothing suspicious about it. No earlier drownings, no mysterious deaths or missing persons.
"No peeing into the lake, then, Sammy." Dean had grinned at Sam who had given up the research at this point.
They drove back to the lake first thing next morning and as the Impala entered the clearing the stunning view greeted them. As though in a trance, Sam got out of the car and let his gaze wander along the shore on the other side. It was so easy to forget everything else, Sam realized and for a second-just a tiny little second-he could avoid the heavy burden on his shoulder called the Apocalypse. And just for the splinter of a moment, the world seemed at peace.
It didn't last, though, and Sam blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the cobwebs in his brain that were attempting to lull him into a false state of safety.
"Something's wrong," he said and out of his peripheral vision he saw his brother raise an eyebrow.
"You mean, just because something is peaceful and tranquil and makes you want to shut your mouth for just a few seconds to savor the quiet, it's evil?" Dean asked, then opened and closed his mouth a few times as if wanting to add something. "I just used the word savor, didn't I?"
Sam stared at him, his own eyebrows arching and with a frown Dean charged the rifle in his hand. "You're right. Something is wrong."
They started walking into the forest, always listening for footsteps, distant voices or gun fire. They had no intention of repeating yesterday's accident with the hunters but after a ten minute walk it was clear that they were alone. Alone as in Alone. There was nothing. Not even the sound of birds. No wind in the leaves, no rustling in the undergrowth. It was like they were walking through a 3D picture filled with the smell of earth and trees.
They decided to split up after another ten minutes of walking. Not entirely but apart enough that they could cover more ground without losing eye contact with Sam choosing a path directly along the shore while Dean was walking a few yards to his left through the thick brush. Sam could see glimpses of his brother, appearing between every other tree and hear him curse every other step about roots and mosquitoes, but other than that, there was no one around.
The ground under his feet was soft and he felt like he was walking on a mattress. His eyes directed on the ground he saw movement to his left and he halted, on the verge of calling out for Dean. The shout was stuck in his throat as a face appeared in the water, just a few inches below the surface. Fingers, white as bones and just as thin, reached out and Sam kneeled down, not even realizing that his feet and jeans were getting wet and with slow, measured movements he mirrored the creature's gesture. Their index fingers touched where air and water met and Sam could hear a voice from somewhere far away. It was a scrambled mess, nonsense, just hissing and gurgling like a radio under the water and it definitely came from the creature in front of him.
Sam bent his head lower and lower while the creature moved away and when his large body vanished into the lake, it didn't even cause any disturbances. Just a smacking, hollow splash as he was sucked under water.
-o-
Through the trees Dean could see the sparkling, tiny waves of the water, reflecting the sunlight and sending little bursts of diamond glitter into his eyes and he had to squint his eyes to see Sam, who had stopped with his back to Dean. Staring out onto the lake, Sam didn't move, not even when Dean yelled, "Sam? See anything?"
That was the moment when Sam took two steps into the water, arms flailing to keep his balance on the slippery ground. He kneeled down and Dean's view was too limited to see what it was that had Sam's attention so pinned.
"Saaaam?"
Dean started running, stumbling three times and falling hard. The roots viciously grabbed for his ankles. When he reached the place where he had seen Sam walk straight into the water, he just stood there, staring out on the lake as if he expected it to spit out his brother. His stomach clenched painfully and even though he knew and believed what Sam had told him about the creature and their freaking breathing abilities... Dean didn't like the fact that Sam was down there. Without him.
"Saaaam!" he yelled again. His voice echoing over the lake.
He sat down, intending to wait a few more seconds before panicking.
Then he panicked.
