Down below, Dean watched in horror as his brother fell lifeless towards the rocks below them.

Then there were two falling bodies. Evie had launched herself into space, helplessly Dean watched her catch Sam, her trajectory taking them away from the rocks and shallows to the deeper water beyond.

Released from stasis, Dean powered up the skiff and brought it closer. Cutting the engine he rushed to the side, looking down into the murky green water.

"Sammy!" He searched around frantically, then made to jump in himself.

"Dean!"

At the stern, Evie appeared holding Sam's head, he was still unconscious. The boat rocked as Dean rushed to pull him out of the freezing water, leaving Evie to haul herself out alone.

Sam didn't move, his skin was white, his lips blue, Dean put out his hand to feel for a pulse, but Evie stopped him.

"He's alive, he hasn't even got much water in his lungs, it's the cold that's gonna get him." She took a small knife from a sheath strapped to her ankle. "Take your tops off."

"What?"

She had already started cutting Sam's clothes away, her blade slicing effortlessly through the sodden materials.

"Your clothes are warm," she explained, still breathing hard from her exertion.

Leaning his unconscious body against hers, Evie stripped Sam as quickly as she could. His hand was still frozen into a fist. She pried it open to find a leather pouch bound with a black silk ribbon. Evie threw it into a corner then took the towel offered by Dean and rubbed him down.

"Okay, you get him dressed," she ordered and gently handed his care to Dean.

Dean was vaguely aware of the skiff moving away from the cliff. He dressed Sam in his clothes as best he could. Evie threw a blanket over to them and he wrapped them both in it, using his own warmth to try to kick start Sam's.

"Where are you taking us?" He called.

"There's a cove a little further on," she answered. We can bring the boat right in, and there's plenty of driftwood for a fire. It's quicker than heading for the docks."

Before long Dean heard sand grind the underneath of the boat and looked up. Sam's lips were still blue, but it did look like some colour was returning to his face.

Evie splashed into the shallow water.

"Come on."

Together they carried Sam over to a hollow in the cliff, not quite a cave, but enough for some protection.

"We need wood, Dean," Evie said. "Sam'll be okay for a few minutes."

She was right, there were tonnes of wood scattered on the beach, Dean threw them into a pile near Sam, while Evie carried supplies from the boat.

"The blessing of the Goddess on Peter," she said. "He's done us proud."

She threw Dean an old flannel shirt that smelled of engine oil, he'd been so concerned about Sam he hadn't even noticed the cold. Evie poured gas over the driftwood pile, a single spark from her flint and steel had the lot blazing in moments.

"How's he doing?" She asked, Dean was back by his side, rubbing his chest and back vigorously. She passed him another blanket.

"He's still unconscious," Dean said, his fear made him queasy.

"Yeah, but he's okay," Evie assured him, touching his cold face. "He'll be fine."

"How can you know?" He demanded.

"His aura would show up any problems. Trust me, Dean, Sam's going to be fine, the danger's over. Stay with him, I'll go see what else Peter left us."

"Come on, Sammy, wake up," Dean muttered.

"Oh dear."

There was nothing else, no explanation to what Evie was concerned about.

"Oh dear what?" Dean looked around.

Evie had collapsed only a few feet away from the skiff. With a surge of guilt, Dean remembered that it hadn't only been Sam who'd fallen, who'd got wet and chilled.

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

"I feel like I've been stored in a freezer," Sam groaned as soon as he realised he was awake.

"Sammy!" Dean left Evie's side to check on him.

"Sam," he unconsciously corrected. "What happened?"

"Whatever that thing was, it must have made you black out," Dean told him. "But you're okay now. Here, drink this."

He offered him coffee from a flask.

"Why am I in your clothes?"

"Because they were warm and dry. Drink up."

Sam looked around at the makeshift camp in wonder.

"Where did all this come from?"

"It was all in the hold. Evie asked Peter to pack it up for us."

"How did she know we'd need it?"

Dean's face, which had shown such relief just a moment before, now closed down.

"Oh man, don't start that again."

"I'm just asking."

"That's it Sam!" He said vehemently. He pointed to where Evie lay wrapped in blankets, her face was turned to the fire and it was as white as a sheet. "That woman threw herself off a cliff to save you! Then she dragged you to the surface, helped get you out of your wet clothes, brought us here, it wasn't until she knew you were safe that she collapsed herself! So I don't want to hear it anymore. After what she's done, I think she's earned our trust!"

Dean waited fiercely for his agreement.

"But don't you think that's odd?" Sam persisted. "Who the hell could pull that off? Even an Olympic athlete couldn't ..."

"Sammy…" Dean growled.

"I'm sorry."

"That'll do for a start." He went back over to her. "Mind you, she's got some weird tatts."

"What d'you mean?"

Sam realised that of course he'd have had to have stripped her by himself. Sure enough, he now saw her clothes lying next to the fire on a make shift clothes line. He thought the bra might be beginning to melt.

"Right round her body," Dean was saying. "All these markings, they look like snakes but it's all Celtic images and Ogham."

Sam carefully sat up. His body ached, but not as badly as it should have.

"Ogham?" He asked, frowning.

"It's an old Irish form of writing. Must have taken ages to do."

"Two days," Evie mumbled through her blanket. "Two days of meditation, chanting and pain." She opened her eyes, her eyes were pale. "It was worth it though, I swear they've saved my life on any number of occasions."

Dean looked at her closely. "How're you doing?"

"I'll live," she answered, and tried to sit up. Dean helped her, and she winced as he touched her right arm.

"Let me have a look at that."

Evie let the blanket slip and Dean inspected the damage. She looked down.

"Ooh, pretty colours," she said weakly.

"Yeah, and it'll get worse before it gets better." Dean reached over and pulled a small first aid kit to him.

"It'll be alright Dean," she told him. "The sea water will have cleaned the grazes.

Sam watched them, two soldiers dealing with a wound, there was no suggestion of anything else despite the fact that Evie was naked but for a blanket with Dean's arm around her.

"Cold?" Evie nodded. Dean sat down and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back as he had with Sam earlier. In an uncharacteristic gesture, Evie rested her head on his shoulder. She looked at Sam with pale eyes. Sam felt terrible for his doubts.

"Alright, bird?" She asked.

"Thanks to you," he answered. "What you did, it was amazing."

"There wasn't much thought involved. Oh, you mean the Olympic thing. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Sam looked at her crookedly. "Come on, this is us."

"Okay," she answered, her voice already sounding a little stronger. "I have a mermaid for an ancestor."

Dean stopped rubbing.

"What?"

"A mermaid?" Sam asked with an incredulous smile.

"Oh the big, experienced Winchester boys," she said. "Can't quite get your head around a mermaid. Well, so the story goes. All I know is that I can swim faster, deeper and further for longer than anyone else I know of." She raised her head, looking about her. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The pouch you got from the cliff."

Dean pulled away to look at her.

"He got it?"

"Yeah, I almost needed a crowbar to get it out of his fist. I left it in the boat."

Dean went to find it. Evie shuffled over to her clothes, only her fleece jacket passed muster, she let the blanket slip off as if she wasn't being watched, and Sam saw the tattoos Dean had told him about briefly before she slipped the jacket on, pulling the blanket back around her.

"Here we go," Dean said, coming back.

Sam took the pouch, now stained by sea water, he weighed it in his hand and could feel small things shake inside.

"It doesn't feel like anything."

"The sea water would have neutralised it," Evie replied. "Open it."

Dean poured Evie coffee while Sam fumbled with the black silk ribbon. His fingers were still cold.

"Need help with that?" Dean asked.

"I can do it." He wasn't sure how much more of helpful Dean he could take.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Watched for a bit longer, then took it out of his hands.

"Dean!" He protested.

Dean just shot him an impatient look before ripping the ribbon open.

"You could have used my knife," Evie said. Both men looked at her. "I was just saying."

Carefully Dean placed the pouch on the ground and spread it open. Everyone leaned in to get a better look.

Small quartz crystals, ground smooth and perfectly round, lay among seeds and some other bits and pieces, a sliver of wood, some grey hair.

"Garnet, jet, lots of obsidian. I don't want to know what that is," Evie said poking a something soft with a stick. "The quartz holds the intention I suppose, everything else is designed to repel. I can't imagine a smuggler like Treve being able to give this stuff any power."

"So he's got someone doing it for him."

"Will we have to deal with him too?" Sam asked.

"I doubt a magic worker would stick around, he'd come only when he was needed." She seemed to be recovering quickly now.

"So this must be how he's getting the ship to miss him," Dean said. "But what's with it taking the others?"

They were all silent. Sam closed the pouch up and put in his, well, Dean's pocket.

"Lures," Evie suddenly said. "Maybe they're lures, you push it away with one thing, and encourage it to another place with another."

"Which means these men were hand picked," Dean concluded. "Nice."

"We have to find this man fast," Evie told them both. "The attacks have been coming quicker and quicker, if we don't move on this soon, more are going to die."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "And God knows how many more. We can't wait for your family to get back to you, Evie, we have to find him now."

She nodded. "I know. So, what's the next move?"

"Well, now you're both awake, we should get back. Get you both into warm clothes." Dean looked at Sam. "Well, your own clothes anyway."

Evie looked about them. "Just looking at everything we have to move makes me ache."

Dean looked at her askance, then suddenly picked her up, carried her to the boat, and dumped her in it. She was laughing by the time she hit the boat.

"And don't move!" He ordered. He returned to the fire muttering, then looked at his brother. "You can make your own damned way over."

"Like I'd let you carry me," Sam answered. They stared at each other a moment. Sam had almost been lost. Both brothers were more shaken than they'd like to admit.