Eight

With the library still closed in such early morning hours, Dean curled up in the backseat of the Impala again and quickly fell asleep. He awoke hours later with the bright morning sunlight burning through his eyelids and elementary kids knocking on the car's window. After he shooed the kids away from his car and checked over the body for any damaging marks, he made a quick stop at a local gas station for breakfast before driving to the local library. As he entered the silent building, still chewing on a prepackaged donut, he was greeted by an older lady who looked up from her paperwork with a bit of surprise.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, removing her reading glasses from her face.

"I'm new in town, and I was wondering if there were any lakes nearby…to you know, go swimming in with my, um, family," he replied, wiping off the donut's sugar stickiness on his pants.

"Lakes? Oh yes, we have one, but it's certainly not one you'll want to go swimming in," she replied, pushing her wheeled chair back so that she could stand and walk around to the opposite side of her desk.

"Oh?"

"Not a very safe lake at all," the librarian commented with a shake of her tightly wound curls.

"I'd still like to look into it, if that's possible."

"Very possible, indeed. Here, I'll show you right to the town's personal history section. There are plenty of books written about this lake."

"Where's it at from here?"

"About ten miles northeast," the librarian replied. "Hard to get to, though, and out of the way. I would highly avoid vacationing at that lake. No good will come out it, I can tell you that much." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "You'd be better off going to another place for fun."

After taking Dean to the dusty books in a poorly lit corner, she walked away to help another person and left Dean by himself in the back. As Dean read the yellowed pages, he learned that the lake was believed to be cursed by the majority of residents in the small community. The water was never clear, always lingering with a dismal black color and putrid rotting odor. Piles of what appeared to be inhuman flesh and organs frequently washed onto shore after a heavy rain or harsh winds. When the Loch Ness monster had been a rage in Scotland years ago, a group of bystanders reported seeing monsters in the town's lake as well. In the midst of the craze that the town could be playing host to their very own "Nessie," there were several attempts to map the underwater terrain of the lake. However, all the men on the fives boats that were sent disappeared with their respective vessel. The only trace that was ever found of the men was one of their personally inscribed wedding rings buried in the sand on shore; the ring was found five years after the man went missing. Following so many deaths, the lake was left in peace by those who recognized its fatal greed. There were spotty stories of young children who, not knowing better, ventured near the water only to vanish without a ripple when their parents turned their backs. Rebellious teenagers used to dare each other to take a quick swim, but after many accounts of seeing their friends pulled under by a mysterious force, they also avoided the water all together.

Chewing on the end of his pencil, Dean flipped the yellowed page to a map of the lake completed many years ago. Apparently, one of the boats had survived out on the water when they did a sonar scan, even if all members of the crew died within that following year from "unexplainable causes." The crude map showed a few underwater hills and such, but nothing that could possibly lead Dean to the underworld. However, as he leaned closer to the faded ink, he saw a small circle written in the corner with a man's pinched handwriting that read, "cave" followed by a question mark. He grinned around his pencil and shut the book with a slow satisfaction.

Dean didn't waste further time after discovering that there could be a possibility to enter the underworld without having to commit suicide. He grabbed a phonebook from the library's reference section and scanned the pages for a store that would carry some sort of scuba gear. However, he wasn't entirely surprised to learn that there weren't any special stores designed for extracurricular swimming in the area considering the lake's unpopularity. There were a few resale businesses listed, so Dean placed a few hopeful phone calls. At the last store, he was told that yes, the owner did have a suit and equipment available for sale. It was old, dating back from the days when those crazy fools thought that Nessie was swimming in the water, the man stressed, but all still worked. At the register, Dean plastered a tight smile on his face as the man rambled on about sea beasts and counted Dean's wrinkled fifty dollar bills three times over to assure the correct amount. Dean now had diving gear and plan to get to Sam, which was far better than he had the previous day.

The last time Dean had been scuba diving, he had just graduated from elementary school. His father had trained both Sam and him the basics of the gear and procedures in a local pool one late night. Hopefully, Dean would remember enough to get settled in the lake and his intuitive nature would be able to take control if there was a problem. After all, the only real block to work around would be the breathing part. As he was a strong swimmer, he figured that he would be able to get to the surface for air quickly enough if something went awry with the equipment.

Although the two brothers had agreed to meet in the park again before Dean literally took the plunge, he did not have the time or patience to drive back to the city again. He was afraid that the longer he waited to attempt to get to the underworld, the more rooted Sam would become, which would limit Dean's chances to get him out.

While Dean drove to the lake, with the radio blasting full volume and windows rolled down in the late afternoon wind, he tried to fight off the doubts and worries that were invading his mind. He had come too far to go back now, and if he turned back, he knew that he would never be able to shake the guilt of leaving Sam to the underworld. So, he changed his cassette tape and turned up the music until his head rang with the crashing drums and vibrating guitars. If he was going to die, he would go out with classic rock pounding in his blood.

Since the suit was too small, Dean, wishing he had not eaten that extra donut for breakfast, practically choked himself while trying to squeeze his thick body into the constraining material. The most he was able to wear under the suit were his blue jeans and gray t-shirt, which caused a brief moment of lamentation when he realized that he would be leaving his leather jacket behind. Before he zipped up the suit completely, he tucked a pair of knives into the bottom of his suit legs and two guns into the back of his pants. Even though the firearms made awkward bulges, practically splitting the material of the suit, he considered such weapons to be necessary. He made sure that his car was parked off to the side amongst a group of trees where it wouldn't be found for several days, perhaps weeks, if the lake was really as avoided as the books had said. After locking the doors and grabbing the rest of his diving equipment, he tucked the keys underneath the belly of the car for safekeeping. Straining to bend, he forced his feet into the cracking flippers and checked the pressure in his tank. After fitting the goggles over his eyes and taking one last breath of earthly air, he slipped into the cold water with a shudder.

It took a confused moment of fumbling with the flashlight before a faint beam sliced through the murky water. He treaded for a moment, feeling the rise and fall of the water around him and adjusting his breathing technique with the unfamiliar regulator in his mouth. Being underwater was not a place he was not accustomed to in the least, and his senses were going mad. Thick chunks floated in the water around him and made examining the area difficult. Nevertheless he pushed his way through the water, carrying only the flashlight and a sharp curved blade for protection. Realizing the simplicity of his weapon, he made a firm mental note that if he got back to land, he would invest in some proper underwater battle gear.

As he moved closer to the bottom of the lake, the water became colder, yet clearer. He was able to see a fair distance around him without the cloudy flakes obscuring his vision through the goggles. Unfortunately, he didn't notice anything unusual that would lead him to believe there was an underwater cave until he felt a strong current move past him.

Dean froze in the water, treading carefully and breathing quickly. After waiting a few minutes and feeling nothing more, he continued swimming with the belief that maybe it was just an underwater current. Eventually that was what many of the strange waves from the Loch were labeled following in-depth scientific research. With a determined flick of his flippers he pushed on, sweeping the flashlight back and forth in front of him, until he saw a faint glow not too far in the distance. Heart leaping, he quickly he began to move towards the light that instantly reminded him of the same void that the god had taken Sam through.

Suddenly a large, speeding object smashed into Dean and sent him spiraling through the water. Choking on the mouthpiece, which suddenly felt like no more than a large chunk of plastic between his lips, he fought to maintain his balance and air. As he pointed the flashlight back into the direction from where he was thrown, he saw for the first time the large creature moving towards him.

Dean's eyes widened as he struggled not to scream.

Teeth as big as his hand glinted in the pale light in a mouth that snapped viciously at him. He focused back on the glowing circle in the distance and sped forward, legs pumping and arms pushing. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, drowning out the mad clicks of the beast's teeth as bottom jaw met lower jaw. Breathing was becoming difficult, and his lungs and chest burned fiercely. Then the creature grabbed onto one of his flippers with its row of dagger-like teeth, barely missing Dean's actual foot. Frantically, he shook himself free of the rubber boot, before the monster pushed forward and knocked Dean with a brutal shove of its snout.

As Dean flew away, his flashlight fell out of his hand and swirled to the depths where he could not reach it, leaving him with only the pale glow in the distance to illuminate his underwater world. He was too far down to see the light of the sun as the beast swam towards him, its glinting eye as big as the Impala's steering wheel focusing in on him.

Perhaps it was the sheer fact that he was completely helpless in the water against this beast that caused him to feel so panicked and terrorized as he clawed his way to the circle of light, hearing the hurried hiss of water as the monster plowed after him. It launched itself forward again, managing to get a hold of Dean's leg this time and latching on tightly with a grind of its fatal teeth. Not prepared for underwater combat, he wheeled himself around as best he could, tightly holding the curved blade in his hand before the true extent of his pain could reach his mind. In the creature's massive jaw, his leg was nothing more than a toothpick. Fighting against the resistance of the water, he brought the knife down on its snout with a strong blow that sliced through thick, scaled flesh, which caused the monster to release his mangled leg long enough to pull it toward his body. The pain sprung then, hot and fresh, pulsing with energy as blood seeped into the water and the nerves died. He winced, groaning in agony in the back of his throat and fighting everything that was against him.

As the creature shrieked, blowing large bubbles into the water, Dean hurried towards the light with the beast's distraction. He could barely swim with only one functioning leg and the pain paralyzing the remainder of his limbs, but the thought of Sam and his parents drove him forward. From behind him, there was a predatory scream that vibrated through the water, and he knew that the monster was not far away. The light grew brighter as he approached the circular orb in the watery depths. Above the beast's snarls, quiet voices began to build in volume. The creature lashed forward, and Dean knew that this time would be his last if the monster got to him. He gave one final, agonizing, push of his strength and propelled himself forward through the vortex.

The monster's jaws opened again, and Dean flew.

He fell through the water haphazardly as if he was tumbling down a giant waterfall. He could barely see, and his regulator was viciously ripped from his mouth. Gasping and suffocating, he struggled to breathe and replace his oxygen supply, but with his limbs wildly flailing, he was unable to fully get control of his body. He was smashed against a hard surface and instant pain flashed through his already exhausted body.

As he was losing consciousness, he heard the voices talking around him. All he wanted was sweet oxygen, but when he opened his mouth, cold liquid invaded his lungs like a greedy thief. Instinctively, he gasped again, trying to breathe, but there was no air for him to have. "He's not supposed to be here," the voices whispered. "He made it past the monster. No one ever makes it past the monster."

His leg stopped hurting and the pain seemed to ebb in his body, and Dean slowly realized in his foggy state that he was dying. "Feel how hot he is. He is another warm blood like his brother." His tanks collapsed away from him, leaving him stranded and alone. "The Master will see to him. This is not supposed to be. This is wrong."

Before the world went black, he heard, "He's come for his brother."

Then there was warm water gushing onto his chest and stinging slaps across his cheeks. Someone was frantically screaming his name with every hard thrust against his abdomen. Sputtering and hacking, he was lying on his back with a rocky ceiling swimming in his faded vision. He inhaled sharply, a thin, pinched wheeze of air, and soon he was on his side, vomiting his last meal and water on black sand. A shudder passed through his body, and he was rolled back over onto his back by a pair of strong hands.

Opening his stinging eyes, he was able to discern a fuzzy shape staring down at him. The shape repeated his name and slapped him across the face again. All pain came rushing back to him in full force; his leg throbbed, and his lungs burned. When he finally opened his eyes and focused on the shape in front of him, Sam's face registered instant relief.

"Dean."

He pulled his older brother to a sitting position and threw his arms around him. As Dean fought to calm his coughing, Sam patted him on the back.

Until Dean was quiet, Sam held him tightly.