A/N: Ok, I admit I'm at a loss for what I wanted to say here. Just a reminder maybe that reactions and over-reactions come from a place inside of us, from how we perceive things and then apply those perceptions to our version of reality and our hopes and fears. And when the reactions are volatile and uncensored sometimes we can hurt the people we love and sometimes we can internalize it and hurt ourselves.

Thank you so much for the reviews and alerts and for sharing my story with me.

Warning: Here there be cursing. And over there…and a little more in that corner behind you.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. The incredible fun of playing with them is the only profit I receive from the story.

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From Chapter 11:

"Please, man, you gotta retrieve the little jerkweed for me. If he gives you a hard time, just tell him I'm definitely telling Mom and Dad about this stunt and if he wants any chance of being ungrounded before he's twenty he better get his ass right home!"

Sam's stomach began to churn. "Justin, I don't have a car!"

Eric's voice came back on the line. Justin must have been holding the phone so they could both hear. "Take mine. You know where I keep the keys."

Sam moved to the end of the counter and began fumbling through a pile of mail sitting there. His fingers closed around the Toyota keys and pulled them free. "Okay, I'm heading up there. I'll call you when I get there."

He was hitting the next number on the speed dial as he ran out the front door.

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Chapter 12 Replacing This Pain

Now

It was dark, quiet. The sky's radiance was gone. He was alone, even the flickering points of light had left him. His body was no longer under his control, drifting in the currents. He'd tried. He'd tried so hard. To save himself. To be who they wanted him to be. He couldn't do it anymore. He had to accept it. Dad was right. Dean was right. He wasn't strong enough, wasn't good enough. He never had been, never would be. The last bit of resistance drained out of him and the agony in his chest faded.

It would be better this way, for everyone

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The scent of orange hand cleanser wafted from John's fingers as he inspected them. Good enough. There were still traces of grease around his nails and set deep into the creases of his knuckles, but he wasn't setting out for a beauty contest. He wouldn't be spreading black grease onto the truck or the weapons, and that was definitely good enough for now. The walls were closing in on him, his skin crawling. Something was starting to give and he had to get out of this damn garage and hit the road before the volcano erupted. The other men in the garage had been giving him a wide berth all morning, trying to stay out of the reach of his temper. Including Dean. Phil and Harry had even left for an early lunch to get away from him.

He yanked the blue garage work shirt off and fitted it over a hanger on the back of the bathroom door, leaving the plain gray T shirt underneath in place. They were grown men, he wasn't going to watch his mouth to avoid hurting their damn feelings. They needed to suck it up and get over it. They were lucky all he'd done was growl at them when they annoyed him. The way he'd been feeling he wanted to take someone's head off.

He'd slept like crap, and that was unacceptable. He knew better. You get sleep when you have a chance, especially heading into a hunt. It didn't matter if his problems with Sam had him wound up. Didn't matter if he had to deal with all of the memories, all of the frustration, all of the pain that was trying to swamp him. It was no excuse to stay up too late with a few too many beers. The hangover was just the icing on his pleasant morning.

God, he needed this hunt. He needed something to relieve the pressure building inside of him before he exploded. His nerves were stretched so tight he was practically twitching.

His phone gave a muffled buzz from his pocket and he dug it out, looking at the display.

"I'm leaving here in about a minute. Make sure you're waiting out front for me." Any remorse he might have felt over immediately barking orders at his youngest faded into anger as soon as Sam opened his mouth.

"Dad! You've got to meet me at the lake! I found—"

"No. Don't do it Sam. Don't start with this bullshit again! We've already wasted too much time on it, humoring you! We're done!" The fury that he'd been battling all morning ratcheted up to a quick boil. Sam wasn't just trying to weasel out of the hunt at the last minute, he was also trying to stop John from going. Once again Sam knew just the right buttons to push. He swore he loved his son, but there were times…

"Look, I found out some things—"

John overrode Sam's voice without a qualm. "So did I. I did some asking around. Bet you weren't expecting that, huh? The lake is clean. No unexplained injuries. The kids who died? They were an early death waiting to happen." Something inside of John felt like it was stretched thin, breaking. "Now I mean it Sam, I don't want to hear another word about it. Are you hearing me, boy? NOT ANOTHER WORD! Just once…JUST ONCE could you do what you're fucking told without an argument!" He was only dimly aware of the harsh coldness of his voice and the moment of shocked silence on the other end of the line. His hands were starting to shake. He wasn't going to be distracted from this hunt, from getting the hell away from here.

"I know what's happening at the lake…please let me explain. It's dark—"

Sam wanted to take him on? Fine. This moment had been coming for a while now. "The only thing happening at the lake is that you've decided it's a handy excuse to stop a hunt that you don't approve of," he snarled. "You just don't give a damn that I think it's important and I need you there!"

Just once…JUST GODDAMN ONCE…he wanted Sam to do what he was told.

"Kids might get hurt and you won't even listen to me."

He couldn't listen to Sam. Calm and rational thought was as far beyond him at that moment as the moon. A detached part of him recognized that, but it didn't make a difference. It was too late to derail this train now. "Listen to you? So you could feed me another line of bullshit to get your way? How stupid do you think I am? I'm sick of it Sam! I have never laid a hand on you boy, but I swear to God if you're not out there ready and waiting for me in five minutes…" He trailed off, breathing hard, his left hand fisted at his side and aching to hit something.

"I can't do that sir. I promised Justin and Eric and I'm already on my way to the lake. Please just—"

"You promised your friends?" Something snapped and the heat of anger was pushed out of John by a wave of pure cold. The words were icy when he spoke. "Not another word. I don't want to hear another word from you Sam. I'm leaving to meet with Travis." He clicked the phone shut.

John looked up to find his older son's green eyes fixed on him, wide with shock. "What was that about? Are you alright Dad?" Dean's voice was hesitant.

John rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension that had bunched them up. The frigid cold seemed to have taken up residence throughout his body, leaving him calm. His phone began to buzz and he looked down at it, frowning briefly at the display before dropping it into his pocket. He'd meant it when he told Sam he didn't want to hear another word.

Dean nodded at his pocket. "Sam again?"

"Yep. Looks like I'm heading up to meet Travis by myself. Your brother had better things to do. Meeting up with a couple of friends was more important than going with me." He was a little surprised at the look of shock on Dean's face when he gave him that news. Did he honestly expect his little brother to live up to his responsibilities? The anger that replaced Dean's shock was more expected. He smiled stonily at Dean as he headed towards the door. "I should be back in a couple of days."

"Wait, Dad, you shouldn't go alone." Dean dropped the tool in his hand and followed him to the door. "Just wait a minute for me to get washed and I'll come with you."

"You've got work to do here," John snapped. Dean fell back a step and John climbed into his truck. "I'll see you in a couple of days," he added over his shoulder with finality before pulling the door shut. The phone in his pocket began to buzz again but he didn't even bother to pull it out this time.

He ran his hand over his face before he brought the truck roaring to life. He didn't want to think about the conversation he'd just had with Sam. He refused to feel guilty about the things he'd said. If Sam was going to push his buttons he'd just have to learn to live with the consequences.

He sure as hell didn't want to think about the way Sam had sounded through the whole exchange. Normally they'd be yelling at each other. But Sam had stayed calm and serious. Until the end. Then he'd just sounded determined. And so damn sad.

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"God DAMN it!" Dean wanted something to throw, something to hit. Something like his little brother. Dad was scaring the hell out of him. The man had been scarily cold when he left, pushed into a spot that was downright dangerous. God alone knew what kind of trouble he could get himself into. This was not good. This was so not good.

God DAMN Sam! He knew Dean was depending on him! Dean had freaking stripped himself bare in front of his brother last night. Admitted some fea—spewed out crap that left him feeling raw. But hopeful. Because maybe the days of him carrying this crap by himself were over.

What the hell was wrong with his brother? Sam knew how deadly serious this was and it still didn't matter. The kid was going to stick with what he wanted to do and the hell with everybody else.

Didn't matter that he'd looked Dean in the eye and promised.

And it wasn't good enough to just screw him and Dad over, he had to make sure he pushed Dad into an even darker place as a parting gift? How the hell was he even related to the little prick?

He couldn't let Dad go to meet Travis alone. It would be like sending him to meet twenty pissed off demons with no back up. Yeah, they were Dad's own personal demons, but that just made the back up that much more important.

Dean ran towards the back of the garage. He had to get at least the top layer of grease off and grab his stuff before he left to chase Dad down. If worse came to worst and he couldn't catch up, he at least knew the motel where Dad was meeting Travis. He was gonna catch royal hell from his dad about it. Thank you so much, Sam, for putting me in this position.

He didn't care if Sam had to walk back to the cabin. He was on his own for a couple of days. He'd brought it on himself. And Dean would be happy to let him know that. His hand was shaking while he waited for his phone to connect and he had to keep clearing his throat, trying to loosen the tightness in it. Damn it. Voicemail.

"You selfish asshole! You damn well better be on the phone with Dad right now begging him to wait for you! What the hell could you have to do with your friends that's more important than watching out for Dad? I can't believe we're brothers! You knew how I felt about it, and still…" He broke off, choking on his anger at a betrayal that slashed him to the bone. "I counted on you Sam! I COUNTED ON YOU AND YOU LET ME DOWN! You couldn't get over yourself long enough to do something for me? You might not care about Dad, BUT I DO! If anything happens to him…I swear, Sam, I'm holding you responsible!" He took a deep breath to steady his breathing. "I don't know what you said to him, but thanks for making things worse, Sammy boy. I'm going after him and he's gonna rip me a new one when I catch up. Be glad you won't see me for a couple of days, because right now…" his voice dropped to a hiss "if you were in front of me I'd cheerfully tear you apart. God. Dad's right. You don't care about anybody but yourself. I'm so sick of your bullshit. You hear me Sam? I'm done with it." He did everything for his brother. Everything. And the kid thought nothing of letting him down. "When Dad and I get home just stay away from me. I mean it. Just stay the hell away from me."

He wiped his arm over his eyes as he slipped the phone into his pocket. He'd thought he could trust Sam. He'd thought Sam would have his back. He'd been an idiot.

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Sam was sweating by the time he slid the Rav 4 to a stop in front of the cabin. The festival had traffic at a crawl around the town. His hand trembled as he unlocked the front door, a small clock in the back of his head ticking down, counting down the seconds before they lost another child. He shoved the table in the front room to the side and hooked his finger in the little notch in the floorboard, pulling it up. He knew exactly which small duffel he wanted out of the center of the weapons cache. Dad might have taken other weapons that would have helped, but he'd made sure that this piece at least had been left behind.

The old iron knife was exactly where he'd left it. The leather of its sheath protected the blade he'd honed to wicked sharpness during the night. It was an old piece, consecrated metal etched with runes. It only took a second to hook the sheath onto his belt and replace the cache, and then he was running out the door. He grabbed the rowan club and briefly debated retrieving Titaniea's ointment from its hiding spot, but it would take too long. He didn't have the time. The kids didn't have the time.

He reached for his phone on the passenger seat as soon as he climbed back into the Rav. He'd lost track of the number of times he'd tried to reach his father before just leaving him a message as he neared the cabin. Maybe he'd at least be able to get through to Dean. His heart lurched when he saw a waiting message. Oh god, he hadn't even looked when he'd thrown the phone down. Or maybe he just missed it and Dad finally…

Sam's hands began to shake with Dean's first words and he found himself unable to breathe as his brother's voice lacerated him. He'd thought John's words had hurt? He hadn't really understood the power of words to hurt until now. This was a blinding, soul rending pain that worsened with every second, with every condemnation that sank in. This was immeasurably worse than Dean just backing John up. These words, the voice so full of hatred, was coming directly from his brother's mouth. Dean…Dean was the one who was supposed to love him no matter what.

The same way he felt about Dean.

But the brother who'd left this message couldn't stand him. Would be happier if Sam didn't exist. For almost eighteen years Dean had been the most important person in the world to him. And now it sounded like that was gone. He was truly alone, his insides hollowed out.

He flipped the phone closed, the small click a ludicrously innocent sound to mark the shattering of a lifelong bond. His hand was still shaking when he ran it over his face, smearing the tears that had somehow found their way to his eyelashes. For Dean to have been pushed far enough to wish they weren't brothers—that was on Sam. He'd let himself drift so far from his family that he didn't even know how to get through to them any more. He shouldn't be surprised that they'd both finally turned their backs on him. The way he argued with Dad about everything…Dean was right. Sometimes it was just for the sake of fighting. He was constantly hurting Dean, putting him in the middle. He was such a screw up he'd almost gotten Dean killed two different times in less than a week.

This was on him. He'd pushed and he'd pushed and he'd finally gotten what he deserved.

He didn't have time for this now. He'd let both Dad and Dean down, he couldn't let the kids heading to the Cove down too. He had to do at least one damn thing right and make sure they didn't get hurt.

The ride to the Cove might have passed in a blur, but he sure as hell knew he didn't pass the group on bikes along the way. Maybe someone had managed to head them off already. Please God. It didn't matter how badly he'd screwed up his own life, these kids were innocents. He was afraid, terrified, that he would get to the clearing and find a group of bicycles just sitting there. The kids already missing.

The Rav 4 bounced over ruts in the dirt access road as he flew towards the clearing. It opened before him and his eyes frantically searched, looking for the bikes. The pile of trash bags that had been there the day before was gone and he had a clear view of the area. The bike rack was empty and there was no sign of them in the rest of the clearing. The car slid to a stop and he sat motionless for a moment before slowly bowing forward and resting his forehead on the steering wheel. They weren't here yet. His whole body was shaking, strong emotion and adrenaline overloading him.

He leaned back in the seat, his eyes resting on the trees screening the lake. The evergreens were a lusciously thick backdrop, and a small part of his mind wondered if that was what they really looked like. The effects of the fae ointment had worn off by the evening. The dark green began to blur in front of him, but it had nothing to do with a glamour.

His panic over Joey and his friends dissipated, taking away his last barrier against the pain. Dean had his faults, but he was by far the best person Sam knew. Losing his respect shredded something at Sam's core. The arguments, the occasional heated words, they didn't matter. He'd always been confident of the way his brother felt about him, thought their bond was indestructible. But the hatred in Dean's voice, so much like John's… He didn't see how they could ever come back from that.

The Gods somewhere were laughing. So many times he had carelessly hurt Dean and Dean had forgiven him. But this time, when he'd just been trying to protect kids from a real threat and never meant to hurt Dean, this was the time that broke them.

A curl of anger began to eat at his gut. A childish voice in the back of his head screaming that it wasn't fair. He was trying to save kids, he needed their help, but his family had kicked him to the curb like yesterday's trash. He stomped the voice out, his lip curling up in a bitter grin. What the hell did he expect? He was the freaking boy who cried wolf. He'd fought them so many times over things that didn't matter, that he couldn't expect them to listen to him this time.

Dean's message was on a repeating loop in his mind, hammering its way into every square inch of him. There was one line, though, one line that didn't make sense. It was jarring in the depth of the misunderstanding it implied. He picked his phone up before he could talk himself out of it. It wouldn't change things. Too little, too late. But it wasn't right to let Dean keep thinking that Sam had picked friends over him. The roaring in his ears did nothing to disguise the coldness in his brother's voice when Dean answered the phone.

"Sam."

This would have been so much easier if he could've just left a message. "Dean, don't say anything, just listen to me, okay? I know you hate me right now but I just couldn't…" He cleared his throat before continuing. "You're wrong, man. I'm not with my friends. I wouldn't do that to you after I told you I'd go with Dad." Dean tried to break in but Sam just talked over him, his voice weary. "Doesn't matter, man. I get it. If I were you I'd feel the same way. Please, just listen. Dad wouldn't listen. I tried to tell him. I swear Dean, I tried to tell him."

His voice broke and he pulled in a deep breath. He was babbling like a scared kid but he didn't care. He had to get this out before Dean shouted him down or hung up on him. "He wouldn't listen to me. The coroner's office is covering it up, but the bodies had bites they couldn't identify and their throats closed. They didn't drown, something killed them. You were right, I did the research and figured it out. They weren't dogs, they were spriggans. And there are two powerful dark fae. One on land and one in the water. That lady you met…she's probably one of them. A hag of some kind. The one in the water is a bogie, like Jenny Greenteeth."

He gulped in another breath, letting the urgency that had been driving him seep into his voice. "I just found out a group of kids were heading to the Cove. Kids, Dean. On bikes. There was no way to stop them. I called Dad, tried to get him to meet me here, but he wouldn't listen. I couldn't just let those kids come here without doing anything, Dean. I'm sorry, I know I let you down, but I just couldn't." His voice broke and he ran his forearm over his face, wiping at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry I screwed this all up and let you both down." Sam grabbed the rowan club from the passenger side and climbed out of the small SUV as he talked. His blood ran cold and his voice stilled when a faint sound reached him, coming from beyond the screen of evergreens that hid the lake. Voices. Young voices. "Oh Christ, they're here," he whispered softly, just before the first scream for help split the afternoon air.

"Sam?"

"Dean! They're in trouble!" He flipped the phone shut and sprinted towards the trees. Low limbs smacked at him, scratching his bare arms as he crashed through and onto the beach. God alone knew why they'd brought their bikes right onto the coarse sand. Two boys stood at the edge of the water, but he could see at least three in the lake.

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Dean checked the Impala mirrors before skidding through a U turn. He'd pulled the Impala to the side of the road as soon as he'd seen it was Sam calling him. If Sam was actually going with Dad, Dean could turn around and go back to work. If Sam wasn't, he didn't trust his temper to keep his baby safely on the road.

When Sam disconnected Dean dialed his dad as he threw the car into drive. He hadn't even given his dad a chance to reply when he spat the information at him. Just snapped the phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket as he hit the gas. How could his dad have gotten everything so wrong?

He was absurdly grateful to the traffic that he had been cursing just minutes before. He'd just made it to the northern edge of town when Sam's call made him pull over. Cutting west on the empty rural roads that surrounded him would quickly get him to the Cove.

The motor roared as the big black car smoothly accelerated. Dean hadn't believed in Sam and now his little brother might be in trouble. His voice…oh god…Sammy sounded broken. There was nothing he could do about the guilt that was heavy in his belly except press even harder on the accelerator.

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The scum was a thick mat on the top of the water around him, a deceptively sparkly green under the bright blue sky. A picture postcard day hiding an evil that turned Sam's stomach. Jeans covered his legs but he could feel the long grass trying to trip him up, slithering over his bare feet and brushing against the skin of his arms. It felt like it was trying to hold him back, and he was thankful for the height his last growth spurt had delivered and the bulk added by his workouts. His size combined with the inherent magic of the iron knife sheathed at his waist was enough to break through the grass.

He'd been wrong, they weren't all boys in the water. The adolescent girl in front of him was almost crying, struggling to move in water that came up to her chest. There was no way to know which child Jenny Greenteeth would go after first, he had to just free them as he reached them.

"It's tangled…I can't move…help me…" The girl's words came out in quick gulps as she started to panic. She tilted slightly to the side, her arm reaching into the murky water as she pulled at the grass wrapped around her. A startled grunt burst from her lips as she lost her balance and her head slipped under the water.

Sam's arm was there, reaching around her waist and hauling her back up into the air. "Hold on, I've got you." He tried to sound reassuring, not let on to the fear that gnawed at his stomach as he kept his eye on the two other children in the lake. Water covered the nearer boy up to his neck, only a head capped by a mass of tight red curls visible above the surface. Justin's brother seemed to be in better shape, bobbing around in the water, but he was out around the point where the lake bottom dropped away. Sam had no clue how deep it got out there. If Joey went under he could be impossible to find.

He lifted the girl in his arms higher, pulling the grass wrapped around her taut before using the knife to slice cleanly through the long strands. He looked over his shoulder, keeping a worried watch on the other two children as he carried her to shallow water. "Can you go the rest of the way by yourself?" he asked roughly. He barely waited for her to nod 'yes' before pushing her away from him, giving her a boost towards her two friends still standing on the shore. His breath was coming more quickly when he headed back toward deeper water, the feeling that time was running out heavy inside of him.

Sam reached the young redhead and his hand dwarfed the child's shoulder. The bones felt slender under his palm, and the shivers running through them eased under his gentle touch. He looked up at Sam, his green eyes large in his pale face. "You should help Joey, sir. I can stand here but it's real deep where he is."

The boy might have been able to stand, but the water was lapping at the bottom of his chin and he was so tangled in the unnatural growth that he was barely moving. Sam looked past him towards Justin's brother. Joey looked scared, but he wasn't panicking. He was bobbing slightly as he treaded water, his head and the top of his shoulders visible. "Joey? How you doing bud?"

"I'm okay, just a little stuck. Help Ryan, he's not as good a swimmer as me."

"Am so, you dick!" Ryan yelled indignantly, his voice just a little shaky. The boy's eyes reminded him of Dean when he gave Sam a little smile. "We argue about that all the time. You're going to help him? Right?"

"I'll help Joey after I get you loose," Sam reassured the redhead. "Your friend has my phone and he's already calling for more help." Sam moved his hand through the water, locating the grass tangled around Ryan's arms and waist. "I need you to stand still so I can cut the stuff you're tangled in, okay?"

Ryan nodded and Sam worked on freeing his arms first. He stilled at the sensation of something brushing against the back of his jean clad leg as it moved through the water behind him. He turned slightly, trying to look down into the water. The surface scum made it impossible to see into its depths and he shuddered as the sensation of something gliding by him faded away. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his movements became more urgent. The knife sliced through the last piece of grass and Sam scooped Ryan up in his arms, holding him as far out of the water as he could.

"Yo man! I'm not a baby! Put me down and go help Joey!"

Sam sheathed the knife and held tight to the squirming boy. "Stop fighting!" he snapped. "I'll get you closer to the shore and then you're on your own. If I put you down here you'll get tangled again." Pieces of grass trailed along the sides of his arms as he worked his way closer to the shore, each small touch sending a shiver through him. The girl he had freed was almost out of the water, wading the last couple of feet with the help of one of the other boys.

"When you get to the side you get out of the water and stay out! You hear me?" Ryan reacted to his harsh tone, giving him a scared nod. "Stay with your friends. There's a pack of wild dogs in the area. I gave your friends a club you can use to keep the dogs away from you. You'll be the biggest one there. You take care of the others, okay?" The words came out in quick puffs as he pushed himself to move quickly. The boy straightened in his arms, the fear replaced by determination when he nodded this time.

Sam lowered Ryan into the water not far from the shore and watched for just a second to make sure he was moving easily on his own. His heart was in his throat when he turned to head back for Joey. Two of the fae's potential victims had been removed from the picture. She could be going after Joey any second. The only reason that Sam could think of that she hadn't already was that this was a game to her. It felt like he would be tempting fate to yell encouragement to Joey now. Like Jenny was just looking for a dramatic cue to pull the boy under the surface. Every time Joey seemed to sink just a little deeper into the water as he bobbed, Sam's pulse spiked.

When the depth of the water became too much drag Sam started to swim, keeping his head up to make sure he didn't lose sight of the boy. The cold iron at his waist eased his way through the reaching grass. His throat thickened and he took a shaky breath when he reached Joey's side. "How you doing, champ?"

"My arms are getting a little tired, Sam," Joey answered truthfully. He grimaced briefly and sighed. "I guess my dorky brother sent you after me?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. It was strange to be looking at it from the big brother point of view. "Yeah, he did. Good thing, huh? What the hell are you even doing here?" He was circling the boy in the water as he talked, locating the strands of grass that were wrapped around him.

"Tommy always wanted to come swimming here. I think he was coming here when he had that attack. We just…we just wanted to come do it for him. I had Tommy's bead necklace. I was gonna leave it where it's deep." The boy's tear filled eyes flicked away from Sam in embarrassment. "I dropped it," he whispered. "Stupid, huh?"

"Nah, I get it. Would have been smarter to wait till Justin could come with you, though," Sam answered slowly, his attention fixed on using the knife to cut as close to Joey as possible without nicking the boy.

"Yeah, my mom's gonna kill me when she hears about this," Joey said with a heavy sigh.

Sam just grunted in response. If being in trouble with your parents was the criteria for attracting the bogie, Sam had this kid beat. By a mile. He cut the last strand and wrapped his arm around Joey's waist, eyeing the water around them nervously. "Okay, I think I got it all. Let's get out of here." He kicked his feet, propelling them towards shore, and his stomach dropped when Joey almost slipped out of his arms.

"It's still around my ankle." Joey bit his bottom lip for a second like he didn't really want to ask the next question. "Hey, Sam, how big do fish get in this lake?"

"Don't know. Why?" Sam's heart pounded, but he kept his voice steady as his hand slipped the knife back out of its sheath.

"Because something big swam by me a few times while you were helping Lindsey and Ryan. By my feet. And I think I just felt it again."

"It didn't bite your or anything, right?" He couldn't help the strain in his voice, and he knew the twelve year old picked up on it.

"No, I don't think so."

Oh God. He did not want to scare this kid, but he had no choice. With every stroke of his foot as he tread the water next to Joey he expected to feel something nudge against him, grab hold of him. "Okay, okay, listen. This is important." He caught the boy's eyes, speaking quickly, his voice tight. "I'm going to dive down and cut the stuff on your ankle. As soon as you feel it come loose you swim like hell for the shore, okay? Don't wait for me, just swim as hard as you can."

Joey's breath sped up, the fear barely held in check. "But what…why…what about you?"

"I'll be right behind you making sure nothing in the water hurts you. I'll be fine. But don't wait for me, even if you don't see me. In fact, let's make it a race. See if you can beat me to shore." He wanted the kid out of the water…now. "Okay?"

"Okay." Joey gave a short, choppy, nod and Sam squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

Sam took a deep breath and let himself sink down into the water.

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If I could change I would
Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all my shame to the grave

It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone

"Easier to Run" by Linkin Park