Disclaimer and notes in Chapter one

A/N:Heya, I know I said I'd try to be more regular with updates but I didn't count on my laptop informing me it had always wanted to be a paperweight. After some percussive maintenance (and restoring everything to factory defaults) I've managed to get it back to working status but I need to re-install everything I use! Bah. Either way, sorry for lateness. Am here now.

Thanks as ever go to my ever-wonderful beta, TraSan, even if I sometimes worry we're gonna end up merging into one person!


It was with reluctance that Sam drew himself back from his brother and shifted his hands beneath shaking shoulders to haul him up to his feet. "Come on, Dean. We need to get going. We've still got stuff to do." Dean's weight sagged against him as if his brother had forgotten how to walk. Sam tried to think of a way to execute the plan without involving his quasi-comatose brother but knew what he'd said moments before was true: He needed Dean.

"Just a little longer, Dean, then you can rest." He coaxed his brother, "Come on. We need to do this before the Siren has a chance to recover."

That snapped Dean back into a semblance of awareness. "What we doing, Sammy?" His words were sleep slurred and would have been incomprehensible to anyone who hadn't grown up with early morning Dean as a second language.

"Bobby gave me some rituals to use on the Siren to block it off from returning to its island. The bitch'll drown. I stowed the stuff into one of the boats earlier." Sam led his brother down the deck to the covered boat already waiting in the lift. He tugged the cover off and half-shoved his brother into the boat, draping one of the blankets he was glad he'd had the foresight to pack over him. "I can do the ritual stuff but I need you on guard to shoot her if she gets too close."

"Saving people, hunting things." Dean murmured what Sam assumed was his agreement.

Sam cranked the handle and waited as the lift lowered the boat down into the waiting water. He scanned for any sign of the Siren but judging by the shrieks shrilling into Sam's skull, she was still a fair way off and suffering. Sam used the time to reach into the non-herbal bag he'd packed, pulling out a pair of handguns and a shotgun which he pressed into his brother's numb hands. "Take these. Got plenty of bullets here."

Dean's hands gripped the shotgun in habitual ease and then a hand plucked a couple of shells from the ammunition, cocking the rifle and loading them in, "Sam, bullets sticky." He complained, wiping his fingers off on his shirt.

"Um, yeah." Sam felt a blush warming him against the night air. "They're kinda dippedinvirginblood."

"Wuh?" Dean intelligently questioned.

"Sirens kinda use sex magic a bit like succubi and incubi. Virgin's blood is kinda anti-sex."

"Auntie sex is nasty." Dean agreed.

The boat settled into the water and Sam detached the cables then pulled up the oars, clicking them into place. Finally he checked compass bearings and set out towards where Bobby had said the island was, rowing for all that he was worth. He saw Dean scanning the water line for any sign that the Siren had broken out of her daze and was following them. Then he saw Dean's chin start to fold down to his chest. Sam pulled back hard on the oars, propelling the boat forward and used the moment's grace to kick at his brother, worry transmuting into violence. "Dean, stay awake."

"M'awake." Dean mumbled dozily, "Just resting my eyes."

"You were not." Sam snapped. "Come on. Just watch the water. Please, Dean, for me."

"The little brother card's gonna run out soon." Dean mumbled but he sat up a little straighter in his slump and Sam could see his head swivel from side to side.

Dean's head started to dip again and Sam was just beginning to wonder whether putting a loaded weapon into his zoned brother's hands was really one of the best ideas he had. Before Sam could ponder it much further, a flurry of bubbles announced the impending arrival of the Siren. Dean swung the rifle around on automatic and fired a single, perfect shot into the surf. There was a horrific screech that jangled Sam's nerves and Sam pumped harder at the oars to clear the distance between them and her.

"Nobody calls my brother you bitch and gets chocolate!" Dean yelled at the receding bubbles and Sam re-thought the Dean plus gun plan once more.

"You tell 'em, Dean." Sam murmured and kept up the rhythm of moving the boat once more.

Another rush of bubbles and another shot sent the Siren off again and Dean was looking quite pleased with himself as he reloaded the shotgun. In fact, he was humming to himself. That wouldn't have been so unusual. Sam was well-used to Dean's musical tendencies in times of stress. The fact that Dean was humming 'It's a small world after all' though had Sam concerned that his brother has finally gone over the edge. "Dean?"

"Yuh?"

"You are humming."

"Yuh."

"You are humming 'It's a small world after all.'"

"Yuh."

Sam ran out of words there which was still an improvement on his usually talkative brother who seemed to run out of words at the start of the conversation. Unfortunately the lack of conversation lead to Dean's beginning to nod off again and Sam had to plant another kick on his already bruised brother. "Come on, Dean. Stay awake."

"M'awake. S'just the cabbages talking." Dean mumbled and yeah, Sam was beginning to worry whether the Siren had scrambled something up there. Not that Dean was ever the poster child for sanity but humming a fucking Disney tune and talking about cabbages was one step beyond even Dean's level of weirdness.

Sam's arms were burning from the effort of propelling the boat forward and Sam was internally cursing Bobby. The island was close? Didn't feel very fucking close right now. He was in a race he was sure to lose if this went on for too long. The Siren had the advantage in the water as she'd all too ably demonstrated in their last encounter. All Sam had was a punch-drunk brother and a plan as feeble as the planks of wood keeping himself and his brother from the briny deep.

"S'big rock." Dean mumbled and the words were some of the sweetest that Sam had heard in a long time. He pulled harder against the oars, using whatever reserves of energy he had to try and make it those last few metres towards the island. "Crunchy," was all the warning Sam got before the boat crashed into the rocks at the end of the island.

Sam quickly checked their craft for any damage, breathing a sigh of relief when there wasn't any. He half-tugged, half-hauled his brother out of the rocking craft, depositing him on the shore with the shotgun. Sam snagged his bag of ritual supplies and hopped off, tying the lead rope on the boat off to a nearby outcrop.

Dean was asleep again when Sam made his way over and Sam shoved a foot into Dean's ribs. Dean just wrapped his hands around Sam's ankle and shifted his head around to rest on top of Sam's shoe as if that was the most comfortable pillow around which, compared to the rock, it probably was.

Sam pulled his foot rapidly back and Dean's head clunked audibly against the rock, prompting an soft whine. Sam crouched down to shake his brother, "Dean, stay awake. I mean it! I need to get on with the ritual. Just, stay awake and wait for the Siren. I need you to watch this point while I go block off the rest. Can you do that, Dean?"

Dean's hand scrabbled for the shotgun at his side, cracking it open and checking both barrels. "Fill Siren fulla blood. Gorrit Sammy. Go, ritual." It wasn't exactly comforting that that was the most coherent Dean had been for a while.

Sam weighed up his options but quickly realised that taking Dean with him wasn't one of them. He'd have to trust his brother to keep the Siren away which, usually, wasn't an issue but then Dean could usually hold on 'til the motel room before crashing from his injuries. "Good boy." Sam said and slung the bag over his aching shoulder and running as fast as his legs could carry him towards the nearest of the cardinal points.

Fortunately the island that the Siren had chosen for a home base was fairly small and it didn't take Sam that long to reach the first site. He unwrapped the t-shirt bundle and extracted three pieces of barberry, glad that they had all survived the rocky boat voyage. He laid them out with the first piece running in a line from sea to shore and the other two across it reciting, "Now you will be barred by faith, hope and charity." He spread a circle of sage and rosemary around the symbol and then tucked everything away in his bag and raced on to the next stop.

The crack of a gunshot had Sam wanting to turn and race back to his brother. At least this was a sign that Dean was still awake, even if it was awake and in trouble or awake and shooting at hallucinations: Sam wasn't entirely sure which option he would prefer. The next cardinal point was the furthest away from Dean and Sam comforted himself with the fact he would at least be on the homeward stretch now.

He repeated the ritual at that point, keeping an eye peeled for any sign that the Siren was trying to be sneaky and avoid Dean's sentinel post. Fortunately it seemed that the Siren had it all going on in her voice and not much from upwards of there. Sam tracked around to the last point, his legs screaming at him that they really didn't deserve this and his shoulders pointed out that they were much worse off. His whole body was just around ready to stage a revolt if it wasn't already tired beyond the energy to protest.

His hands shook from exhaustion as he laid down the barberry again, reciting the words tonelessly as his eyes scoured the sea for the Siren. Another gunshot crack split the silent salt-stained air and Sam hurried his hands in adding the rosemary and sage circle, forcing himself to pack the supplies in carefully for the trip back to Dean. He forced himself to the fastest run he could manage, promising his body that he could crash and burn once he reached his brother.

He reached the shore again just in time to see Dean level the shotgun at a dark shape in the water and pull back the trigger. Nothing happened. Well, that's not strictly true. The shotgun did nothing however the shape surged out of the water heading straight for Sam's prone brother and Sam got his first look at the creature that had caused all the trouble.

Unlike the mermaid, the Siren was bird-like in aspect with aquamarine-tinged black features for hair and sharp features from a curving nose to black-red thin lips. Her eyes were cinder dark and framed by long blue-black lashes.

Sam observed this in the moments it took to pull the gun from where he'd holstered it at his hip, pull it into the steadiest two-handed grip that he could and fire. The bullet struck the Siren in the shoulder and she recoiled with a hideous screech that sounded a thousand times worse without the muffling of the water. Sam could make out his brother struggling between reloading his rifle and curling into a ball. Sam chambered the next bullet and fired again, the bullet striking the Siren in the chest this time. It recoiled further backwards but didn't give up the shore for the water yet.

Sam made it over to his brother's side in five long strides and yanked him one-handedly backwards by the back of his hospital t-shirt, not caring if he scraped or harmed his brother in the effort, just wanting him as far back from the water as possible. Dean gave his brother a wide-eyed surprise look that held a touch of hurt in it, a clearer sign than anything that Dean still wasn't quite with it. As if forgetting to reload the damn gun hadn't been clear enough.

With the other hand, Sam kept the aim locked on the Siren who was tilted her head from side to side, assessing the situation in front of her. Sam carefully shifted his bag to his front, knowing that he would need to move fast to stop the Siren realising what he was doing. As quickly as possible, he fired another couple of shots at the Siren and while it was still hissing in pain and backing into the water line, he pulled out the necessary supplies and crouched as close to the shore as he was willing to risk, hastily placing down the supplies and rapid-talking to the lines. He was just adding the last piece of barberry when he felt the shadow looming and looked up to see the Siren standing over him with talon-clawed hands out-stretched.

Sam knew it was too late to reach for his gun so he just tried to tuck his too-big frame as small as it was to leave as little exposed skin as possible. He felt a scrape of talons across his shoulder, burning tears carved into his flesh. Before it could attack again, there was a whipcrack snap and another scream from the Siren, sending her surging back into the water. Sam glanced at the crunched barberry in his hand and tossed it aside, grasping another piece out of the wrapping and laying it down, reciting the third line of the ritual. His hand shook as he made the circle and finally retreated up the shore, hoping to God that it worked.

Dean was sitting dazed with the shotgun still in on hand and pointed loosely at the shore. Glassy eyes met Sam's gaze. "No Sam for bitch," He informed his brother.

Sam sunk down next to his brother, resisting the temptation to pillow into his brother as he had when he was younger. "You tell her." He said.

Dean nodded, rather proud of himself and kept scanning the water, "What now?"

"Now?" Sam said tiredly, rotating his shoulder slowly to assess the damage done from the Siren's talons, "We wait for the bitch to drown."

Dean's head thunked onto Sam's undamaged but still sore shoulder, "Wanna go home and sleep."

Sam raised a hand up, wincing at the jolt of pain, to pat his brother in a feeble gesture of comfort, "I know, Dean. We can't go out into the water again. Not while the Siren is still alive. She'd go after the boat."

"Boat still in the water." Dean murmured and Sam took a moment to process those words before realising his brother was right. He lurched up to his feet, ignoring the screaming of his muscles and the way Dean toppled onto his side with a confused "Mrph?" noise, and dashed down to the boat, intending to grab the rope and haul it onto land. He was moments too late as the Siren rose out of the water, anger darkening her features as she grabbed the wooden boat and tugged it backwards, the traitorous lead rope giving way to the onslaught and being drawn outwards.

Sam watched with a sinking heart as the Siren scrambled up into safety then did the only thing he could think of. He snatched the shotgun out of Dean's hands, took aim at the boat and blasted a hole into the side. He reloaded as fast as he could and added two more holes into the wood.

The Siren squawked in anger and scrambled out of the wooden craft as the boat sunk into the depths.

Sam forced himself back up to his brother and sat back down on the cold rock, lifting Dean up gently so his brother could use his thigh as a pillow. "Boat gone?" Dean queried.

"Boat gone." Sam replied, the two words bitter with failure.

"Plan B?"

"Wait for Jerry."

"Oh." Dean said, curling himself up tighter against the cold.

"Oh." Sam agreed, staring bleakly out across the water.

---

It didn't take Sam long to realise that sitting on an exposed shore line when you are exhausted and bleeding and your brother is about three heartbeats away from a coma was a bad idea. He shook Dean gently out of the half-slumber his brother had been trying to fall into, "Dean. I'm gonna go find shelter. The Siren must have had some." He wasn't quite sure why he was explaining things to Dean who probably wasn't understanding them. He lifted his brother's head off his leg and set it gently down on the rock and then pushed himself up to his feet, managing on the third attempt.

Sam headed straight for the centre of the small island, the one place he hadn't already been to in his headlong circumnavigation of the island. Fortunately he found a small cave there, he ducked his head in briefly, noting what looked a sleeping area and then headed out back together his brother.

Dean was asleep again by the time Sam got back and Sam nudged his brother repeatedly until Dean stirred. "Come on, Dean. I've found shelter. I can't carry you, my shoulder's bad. You need to walk. Okay, Dean?"

"Five more minutes," Dean sleepily pled and twisted over to his other side.

Sam shook his brother a little harder, "No, Dean. Up. Now." He tried to mimic their father's commanding tone, feeling a stab of guilt as he did.

"Up now." Dean repeated and his eyes opened to thin slits.

Sam stood and then offered a hand down to haul his brother upwards, slinging his brother's unbroken arm across his shoulders and starting to stagger towards the shelter. It took far longer than Sam had recalled to return to the shelter and he settled Dean as quickly as possible inside. Sam stripped off his own jacket and draped it over his brother's shivering form, noticing the too-blue tinge to Dean's lips.

"No sleeping, Dean." He commanded, "You know the rules about hypothermia."

"Jus' a little sleep." Dean begged, "M'so fucking tired. Jus' a little sleep."

"Please, Dean. Stay awake for now. Come on, just a little longer and Jerry'll find us."

"Jerry couldn't find a whore inna brothel." Dean mumbled but Sam was at least glad Dean seemed to be responding to Sam rather than the random statements of earlier.

Sam glanced around the shelter for anything to start a fire with but there wasn't so much as a scrap of wood. Sam pulled his lighter out of his bag and then placed the bag in the centre of the room, adding anything that looked remotely flammable in the shelter to it. He loved that bag but saving Dean's life was top of the list of worthy causes to lose a bag to. He rubbed a thumb against the book engraved on his lighter and then flicked it open and lit the corner of the bag.

The flame sparked fitfully then died. Sam cursed and tried again and again but the bag was soaked through from the water and was refusing to even entertain the idea of catching alight. The only flammable thing in the bag would be the two remaining strips of barberry and it wasn't worth burning those for two seconds of heat.

He returned to his brother and Dean crawled closer, instinctively seeking the source of heat. Sam wrapped his arms around his brother, pressing him closer to try and preserve what little of their body heat hadn't already been sapped by the chill of the night.

"Not time for cuddle," Dean muttered in Sam's shoulder.

"Just preserving body heat." Sam answered, pulling his brother closer, wishing he could do something more about his brother's icy skin.

"Can preserve further 'way." Dean pointed out.

"S'not the way it works, Dean." Sam waited for a response and when one didn't come, he glanced at his brother again then poked him sharply in the ribs. "Dean, stay awake, damn it." He could feel the rise of panic crawling up his throat. "Why don't you tell me a story?"

"Too old for bedtime stories."

"Nope. Never too old. Come on, Dean. Tell me a story."

Dean raised his eyes hazily to Sam and snorted, "Li'l Sammy. I 'member the day y'were born. Mom 'n' Dad'd been telling me for months that I'd be gettin' a li'l brother. Made it sound so cool. Could play soccer 'n' baseball. Then Mom walked in with you 'n' you were ugly 'n' tiny and really fuckin' loud."

Sam frowned. This wasn't quite the sort of story he'd meant.

"Swear Dad musta slipped some growth hormone shit into your bottle 'cos you were a titchy baby. Mom usta swear you'd always wake up with a smile then notice someone else in the room and you'd scrunch up that little red face, Yeah, just like that bitch face there, and starting squalling the walls down."

Sam scowled, wondering what he could say to change the track on this story but then Dean was talking and while he was talking, he wasn't sleeping.

"I was the one figured how to shut you up. Mom and Dad were having another massive fight, neither one of them had slept for days. I grabbed you outta your crib and escaped to sit in the car. Minute I set you down on the leather, you shut the hell up. So," Dean turned his gaze to Sam and prodded him in the chest, "before dissing my baby, 'member it saved our parent's marriage, not to mention my sanity."

Sam wanted to make a statement about the questionable state of Dean's sanity but refrained.

"After that, all I had to do was say 'Da, I think Sammy might start crying,' 'n' I'd get to play in the Impala for s'long as I wanted. So I decided a li'l brother wasn't so bad after all." Dean butted his head into Sam's shoulder playfully.

Sam flicked his brother's nose and stared out towards the entrance, willing Jerry to appear.