Thanks to all of you who managed to stay awake for the last chapter...
OK guys... are you ready? Yes, I've found that darn cliffhanger...
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The Impala's tyres should have squealed as Dean brought the car to an abrupt halt half way across Churchill Bridge; but instead they just made a horrible squelching sound as they fought for traction on the waterlogged tarmac.
Although the bridge was still mostly intact, the river had reached dangerously high levels, spray and foam crashing violently against the cliffs bordering the far side of the bridge, while on the near side, ever-expanding tentacles of water reached out hungrily in the direction of Stillwater.
As Sam and Dean had driven, somewhat maniacally considering the treacherous conditions, through the half-empty town, the closer they'd got to the river, the more of the place they'd seen under water. While Main Street only had a few inches to contend with, some of the houses in the outlying valley were already under a couple of feet.
And still the rain kept coming, heavier and heavier, pounding mercilessly onto a town which had already surrendered itself to constant rainfall, but had yet to seriously consider the very real threat of complete, catastrophic destruction by flood.
"If we find that bone," Sam had said, clinging to the dashboard as Dean had flung the car around another treacherous bend. "What do we do with it then?"
Dean had shrugged. "How do I know?" he'd asked. "I just do the driving. You're the Man with the Plan, college boy."
Sam had scowled at him. "Then you'd better dust off that halo and start praying God really does show you the way, 'cause I'm coming up empty."
And here they were on Churchill Bridge, with only an hour until midnight, the final hour before the English spirit's 'fortieth night' deadline, and Sam still didn't have a clue what he and Dean were going to do to save Stillwater.
He was the Man Without a Plan. And they really needed a plan.
Dean had brought the car to a halt behind a red Toyota that was skewed across the bridge, doors flung hopelessly open causing the internal light to flicker crazily, casting odd shadows all around.
Beyond the car, Sam could make out three figures near the left hand edge of the bridge, the tallest standing perilously close to a section where the railing had been partially swept away by the rapidly-swelling river rushing by underneath. The two smaller figures appeared to be restraining him, hanging on to him with every fibre of their being.
Sam narrowed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath as a sheet of spray smashed into the right side of the bridge, almost knocking him off his feet in the backlash. He felt Dean's hand at his elbow, and was unsure whether his brother was trying to steady him, or whether he was merely hanging on to avoid being swept away himself.
Either way, Sam found Dean's contact strangely comforting as he focussed his attention on the desperate family in front of him.
It was a good thing Nathan was such a substantial kid, Sam thought, gauging the boy's proximity to the edge of the bridge and wincing. Not likely to get swept over the side by one of those freak sheets of water that had nearly just taken him and Dean out.
Alex was standing a little way behind him, clinging to his sweatshirt as if her life depended on it.
But it wasn't her life in the balance: it was her brother's.
The anguish on the girl's face was almost painful to behold, and Sam uncomfortably found himself remembering all the times when they were kids when he and Dean had been on a hunt and his big brother had rushed off to do something rash that could very well get him killed. Sam remembered how he'd felt in those few seconds beforehand, when he'd realised what Dean had been planning, and his chest ached. Yes, he recognised Alex's expression only too well.
But then he remember seeing the same look on Dean's face, when Sam had stubbornly stated his intention to summon Bloody Mary, and his chest hurt even more: No way was Alex losing her brother tonight.
"Alex!" Sam yelled through the tumultuous clatter of the rain on the tarmac and the insistent howl of the gathering wind.
The girl turned as Sam and Dean fought their way towards her, legs unsteady as the bridge swayed slightly beneath their feet.
Dean glanced briefly over his shoulder at the Impala, and Sam could tell he was wishing he'd not parked it on the bridge.
"Please!" Alex yelled. "Please help us!"
The woman at Alex's side looked in Sam and Dean's direction for the first time, a look of abject terror etched onto her attractive face.
Like her daughter, Sonia Bradshaw was tall and slim, but her feelings of desperation were mirrored in the hair coming loose from the orderly bun at the nape of her neck and the dishevelled office clothes which looked distinctly out of place in the middle of a Biblical rainstorm. Her large eyes were wide and dark with fear – not for herself, but for her son. And her daughter.
Nathan made a sudden move towards the water beneath his feet, causing Sam and Dean to jolt forwards towards him, while his mother tightened the vice-like grip she had on his arm, simply refusing to let him go.
"What happened?" Dean asked, glancing up at Nathan, whose eyes were wild and unfocussed, as if he had no clue where he was.
The kid made another sudden move, and Dean found himself grabbing at his other arm, while Sam had somehow managed to position himself between the boy and the edge of the bridge, the fast-flowing water so near to him it made Dean dizzy.
With his free hand, he grabbed hold of Sammy's arm, too.
Sam spared him the briefest of glances, but to Dean's surprise didn't shrug him off.
"Nathan – " Sonia was pleading. "Please honey! Not like this! Not like your father!"
Alex turned frightened eyes on Dean as Sam braced himself against her brother, a human railing between the kid and the river he seemed so desperate to join. "He was sleeping," Alex tried to answer Dean's earlier question, struggling to make her voice heard over the storm and the terror clawing at her throat. "Next thing I knew, he was heading out the front door in this – " she indicated the rainstorm, " – without even putting on a coat! I asked him where he was going, and he had this real spaced-out look on his face, almost as if he was sleepwalking. And then he just said…"
"I have to run or I'll die!" Nathan supplied.
Dean froze.
The dream. Nathan had had the dream.
"Dean – " Sam began.
"I know," Dean said, shortly, as Nathan made another lunge towards the water.
It took all four of them to restrain him, Sam pushing against his chest, legs set wide apart to maximise his balance, while Dean seemed more concerned with keeping his brother from going headfirst into the water than with actually hanging on to Nathan.
"That's all he keeps saying," Alex told them, desperation mingling with the terror in her voice. "And that's what he did – ran straight out the door and down the street as fast as he could. That's when I got my Mom – " she indicated Sonia, who nodded.
"Sonia," she introduced herself. "We got straight in the car and followed him here. He didn't stop once." She put a hand against her son's cheek. "I can't lose my son like I did my husband."
Dean swallowed hard, the words from his own dream echoing in his head as Nathan repeated them over and over, struggling to get to the water where he knew he needed to be.
Where Dean somehow knew they both needed to be.
"I have to run or I'll die."
"No," Sam said, pushing against the kid with every ounce of strength he had. "No, Nathan! You have to stop running! If you run you'll die, don't you see that? You'll drown, just like your Dad!"
"His bones lie under the water," Nathan said, eyes barely focussing any more, fixated on the water beneath his feet in awful fascination. "He must be restored."
"We know that," Sam assured him, legs aching with the effort of trying to halt Nathan's forward momentum. "We're going to take care of it! You don't need to worry…"
Dean frowned at him, managing to tear his own wandering gaze from the water. "How are we gonna do that, Sam?" he asked. "Realistically? If the bone's in Tom Bradshaw's cave, no way we're getting to it! Not without scuba gear, anyway…"
"Tom's cave?" Sonia echoed. "What has that to do with anything?"
Sam glanced over at her. "We think your husband hid – something – there that might be causing this rain," he explained cautiously. "We need to find it."
Sonia shook her head. "Your friend's right," she said, indicating Dean. "It's under twenty feet of water by now!"
"Where?" Sam asked desperately, seizing on the woman's words like a life raft. Which he could also have used right about now. "Where is it?"
Sonia pointed in the direction of the far side of the river, to the cliffs where Dean assumed Ray Henriques had plummeted to his death; the cliffs they both seemed to have seen in their dreams.
"Under there," Sonia said.
Sam looked in the direction she was pointing, before looking back at Dean, silently.
Dean met his gaze evenly. "If it's there, we gotta get it," he said, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.
Sam shook his head. "It's suicide…!" he burst out, the remainder of his words drowned out by the sound of an ominous siren suddenly wailing out into the stormy night.
"What is that?" Dean asked, alarm flooding his voice.
Alex and Sonia exchanged a worried glance.
"It's the reservoir," Sonia explained. "Flood alert. The water must have breached containment – "
"The reservoir's flooding?" Sam translated.
Sonia nodded, fear totally dominating her features. "It'll take the whole town…" she trailed off.
Dean and Sam just looked at each other for a long moment.
"We gotta do this – " Dean began, dark eyes gazing fearfully down into the waters beneath them. "It's the only way to save the town!"
Sam just stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Dean," he said, glancing nervously over his shoulder as his heels hovered over the edge of the bridge. Dean momentarily let go of Nathan when it looked like Sam might fall, grabbing his brother by the front of his jacket.
The same jacket he'd been wearing in his dream.
He met Sam's gaze with his own.
"There has to be another way," Sam said the words Dean had known he was going to hear, but had been dreading all the same. The words Sam had said in Dean's dream, the words he'd said before his big brother, the one person he trusted more than anyone else in the world, had pushed him off a cliff into the violent waters below.
Into the waters Dean knew he and Sam had to brave if they were to have any hope of saving Stillwater.
He continued to hold Sam's gaze, hand still clutching the front of his jacket, his brother's balance faltering as Nathan continued to push against him.
Sam saw the look in Dean's eyes, and in that instant knew his brother was going to push him off the bridge. "Dean, there has to be another way," he repeated, just as an ungodly swell of water smacked into the concrete beneath his feet, tearing at his legs and dislodging them right out from under him.
The next thing Sam knew, he was falling.
