Thank you guys so much for reading this far, and a HUUGEEE thanks to those of you that have submitted reviews! It really motivates me to write more c: I have a huge favor to ask you guys, though! I've been running out of ideas for plots without sounding too repetitive, so if you have any ideas, anything that you want to see, please let me know! It would mean a whooolleee lot c:

Dean cursed as he half ran, half slid down the muddy embankment. His eyes searched the swirling mass of water for his brother's gargantuan form, but much to Dean's chagrin, he saw nothing. It was a simple salt and burn, nothing that should have presented any real challenge for them. That's why it had caught them off guard like it had. They'd become cocky, thinking that a salt and burn was an easy thing. They should have known something would happen. They should have been more alert.

Dean should have been watching his younger brother more carefully. He had let Sam do all the digging, sat back against a tree a few yards away and rested his gun next to him. He'd leaned his head back, just a single moment of inattention, and Sam had disappeared. The only hint that Dean got was a short yell and a splash.

Dean dropped to his knees and plunged his hands into the murky water up to his elbows. A chill set in at the freezing water, well below forty degrees, as he moved his hands, searching for any sign of Sam. The current was strong, Sam could well be down the river by now, caught on a rock, a branch, banged his head, maybe he'd drowned already. Dean had no way of knowing.

"Dammit." Dean muttered and, without a second thought, stood and waded into the freezing water. His body began to tremble as he took a deep breath and plunged his head under the water, eyes open and straining against the dark water. The current was so heavy that it was churning up the mud and dirt on the bottom of the riverbed, it was nearly impossible to see anything. He broke the surface, taking another deep breath before submerging himself again and shoving off from the slippery edge of the river. His strong strokes powered him through the rushing water, but he could feel the convulsive chills start to weaken him. He had to keep going. Sam could be dead by now.

Dean kept swimming, ducking his head under the water in hopes that he could find anything to alert him of Sam's whereabouts. Suddenly, he caught sight of something swirling in the rushing current. With renewed vigor, the freezing man kicked heavily towards it and grasped the rough fabric in his hands. Sam's coat, but Sam was nowhere to be seen.

Dean felt his lungs start to ache, so he broke the surface, chest heaving with the effort of keeping himself awake and swimming in the torrential water. Sam's coat dangled from his fingers and Dean felt a sudden terror seize him. No, Sam couldn't be dead. Dean wouldn't accept that. He'd tried so hard to keep his brother safe, too hard for Sam to be taken by a freaking river. Dean wouldn't...couldn't let that happen.

So he plunged himself under water again, releasing Sam's coat and searching with even more vitality than he'd originally had. He would save Sam. He was sure of it.

And then he finally saw it. An unnatural lump at the bottom of the river, held steadfast by a rock. It was too awkward to be anything else. He kicked towards it, hands grasping desperately at Sam's shoulders. The younger man's head flopped flaccidly about as Dean hauled the two of them to the surface. Their heads broke the waves, Dean gasping in air and kicking towards the bank. He finally heaved the two of them onto the muddy side, leaning back and taking a quick rest. Of course it would be a cold night in Kansas. They just couldn't catch a break, could they?

"Sam? Come on, don't do this to me Sammy." Dean crouched over Sam, grimy water dripping off of him and onto Sam's face. I'm not crying. It's just because my eyes burn from being open underwater. Dean told himself, chuckling mirthlessly. He reached down, pressing his fingers to Sam's neck, hoping against hope for something, anything. A little flutter of his heart, a weak cough, anything that would signal that Sam was alive.

It never came. Sam was limp, boneless...lifeless.

Dean had always thought that the CPR lessons his father made him take at the Red Cross in Cincinnati were pointless. He'd never had to use them before, and his certification ran out a month after he'd received it. But now he was thanking his father for forcing him to learn it on that stupid dummy three days a week after school.

Dean leaned over and pinched Sam's nose shut, breathing for his little brother. He was rewarded by the rise of Sam's chest once before the man fell limp again. Dean pumped his fists on Sam's chest in a rhythmic meter before leaning back over and pushing air into his wet lungs. This couldn't be happening. Sam had to live. Dean didn't think he could handle losing him again.

Dean didn't know how long the two of them sat there on that bank, Dean desperately trying to revive Sam, but with no luck. He didn't know how long Sam had been on the bottom of the river, and the blood that saturated his hair alerted Dean that he probably had a good sized gash somewhere on the side of his head.

Finally, Dean gave up and, as embarrassing as it was, collapsed onto Sam's chest with tears dripping down his cheeks. He hugged Sam's lifeless body and cried, and punched Sam in the chest, then cried some more, then screamed at the top of his lungs for Sam to wake up, until he finally accepted that his younger brother was probably never going to open his eyes again.

Dean didn't care that he could feel the hypothermia start to creep up on him. The frigid wind rushed through his hair and had him convulsing as he cried over Sam's corpse. Because that was what it was. It wasn't Sam anymore, it was just a corpse. A vessel that had once been his brother, but was nothing now.

Dean felt his eyes start to wander shut and he fell still, shivering slightly and breathing heavily, but other than that he was perfectly limp. He didn't care anymore. He'd much rather die here with his brother than have to live without him.

He rolled so he was lying on his back next to Sam, eyes lidded heavily as he stared up at the stars in the night sky. This was it. After everything the two of them had been through, they were going to die at the hands of mother nature herself.

"You're stamina is incredible." Dean bolted upright, eyes shooting towards Sam. Miraculously, his younger brother was awake, coughing roughly. He rolled to his knees, leaning over as he gagged a few times before finally falling quiet. Dean was bewildered and speechless. "How long have you been trying to make me breathe, man?" Sam asked as good-natured as he could after being dead for god knows how long.

"Couple minutes." Dean replied, words slurring together. Sam grunted as he climbed to his feet, reaching down to lug his brother off of the ground and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Because even though Sam had been dead, Dean was definitely worse off at the moment. "I don't need you to carry me, Sam." Dean snapped halfheartedly.

"Right, because you can definitely stand on your own." Sam replied in a tired, yet sarcastic tone. "It's not like you just swam in below forty water on a night where the high is about twenty degrees." He continued as he hiked up the steep embankment, grunting when his foot slipped and he just about dragged the both of them back into the water.

"Yeah but you died." Dean reminded him, but didn't seem to keen on walking on his own. No, he'd let Sam handle that.

Although, Dean could feel Sam's muscles trembling and protesting at the strain. He knew that Sam was extremely tired and beyond weak right now. But the young man trudged on, hiking he and his brother back to the Impala. He unceremoniously deposited Dean into the passenger seat, because even though Dean was weak and had just saved his life, Sam just couldn't resist the chance to torment him. Sam started the car, sighing in grateful content when warm air launched out of the heat vents at full blast.

Sam knew that they had to get back to the motel and get Dean changed into dry clothes before he either died from hypothermia, or became sick with Pneumonia. So he started the engine and pulled away from the cemetery, the only coherent thought in his head being: Get Dean safe. Get Dean warm. And Dean could tell with startled acknowledgment that not once did Sam stop to think about himself.

However, Dean wasn't nearly as grateful when Sam was bedridden a weak later with Pneumonia in his lungs and antibiotics going through his system. But even then, Dean couldn't find it in his heart to be angry with the kid. Because even though Dean had dove into freezing water to rescue Sam, Sam had neglected himself to save Dean's life too. And that was what a brotherly bond really was, sacrificing yourself to keep your brother safe.