A/N: So no work for me today, so I got to play in Supernatural Land all afternoon. Here's another chapter to put you out of your DIP cliffie misery.
Oh, and thanks for the reviews! You never know, I might hit that magic 100 after all!
Chapter Six
It was funny.
Dean had often heard that dying men saw their life flash before their eyes in those last few precious seconds before oblivion.
If that was what Dean was supposed to be experiencing, then some angel somewhere had really screwed up, as he was pretty sure he was watching the wrong tape.
Because all he saw was water.
And Sammy. And Sammy wasn't even there…
Sure, he thrashed his arms about a bit, kicked hard with his legs. Only succeeded in adding a few bubbles to the scene laid out in front of him. Didn't stop the thing clinging on to his ankle like an invisible anchor, or the pressure on his head and shoulders, like a giant hand pushing him down, deeper into the water.
And it certainly didn't stop the tick-tick-tick in his brain, almost unconsciously counting off the seconds until he finally ran out of air.
Fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three…
Dean's personal best was two minutes twelve seconds. Sure, he was working up to being able to hold his breath for three minutes, but he was still a damn long ways off managing it.
Sixty-six, sixty-seven…
There was something oddly soothing in the numbers…
Seventy- nine, eighty-two…
No wait, that wasn't right.
Dean's head was buzzing, lungs burning, chest hurting as if it was being squeezed in the jaws of one of those giant car crushing machines.
Sam had had nightmares for weeks after seeing one of those things on a re-run of Starsky and Hutch…
He kicked with his ankle, kicked really hard, as hard as he could. But still the thing wouldn't let go.
Ninety-nine, one hundred…
Come out come out wherever you are!
Sammy had always been better at hide-and-go-seek than Dean. Could squeeze himself into the smallest spaces and just stay quiet for hours. It was one of the few games Dad didn't mind them playing…would someday help them on the Hunt he said…
One twenty, one twenty-one…
Sammy was hiding. That was it. That was why he'd not been able to see him near the pool. He wasn't hurt. He wasn't taken. He was hiding. From this thing. This thing that had pushed Dean into the water and was slowly drowning him. He was…
One thirty-two, one thirty-three – hey a new record!
…Hiding from it so it wouldn't get him too. Now that Dean had completely failed to protect him and all, Sam would have to start looking out for himself, keep the white-eyed monsters away, hide from them.
Hide, Sammy! You've got to hide, 'cause I can't look out for you any more…
One forty, one forty-one…
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
Don't be mad.
Sammy, don't be mad. And don't cry. You just need to hide, that's all. Just hide and they won't be able to get you and everything will be alright and I'll be alright then 'cause I'll know you'll be alright and then I can die and it'll be alright and…
One sixty-four, one sixty-five…
Did I hit three minutes yet?
One seventy, one seventy-one…
Dad, why aren't you here to save me? Why aren't you swooping in to save me at the last minute, just like Superman always does?
Don't be mad, Dad. I think I lost Sammy. Don't be mad, he's hiding so it's okay…
One seventy-nine, one…
No, he's just hiding…
'Cause I can't see him. I can't see…
"Dean? Please don't be dead! You're not dead, right? You're just pretending! Right? 'Cause if you're dead who's gonna take care of me? You wanna take care of me, right? 'Cause that's okay. Really. I didn't mean what I said yesterday. I really can't manage without you! I don't even know why I said that! God, that was such a stupid thing to say and I didn't even mean it. So you need to wake up now. Dean. Dean? Dean!"
"Sammy, you're supposed to be hiding."
The bright blue sky hurt Dean's eyes, so he was more than grateful when his kid brother's shaggy head suddenly blocked it from his view.
"Sammy, why are your clothes all wet?"
Sam's t-shirt felt cold against Dean's chin as the little boy threatened to smother him in a bone-crushing hug.
Hug.
Ah man! Why was Sammy hugging him? God, he was such a girl sometimes…
"I thought you were dead!" Sam burst out, hugging his big brother even harder to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around the older boy's neck.
"Sammy – " Dean gasped, trying to extricate himself. " – Can't – breathe – "
Sam let go of him instantly, sitting bolt upright as if someone had tugged a little too hard on his strings. His eyes were wide, dark and tell-tale red from crying, cheeks pinched and salty. He reached out one shaking hand to push Dean's dripping hair out of his eyes, before settling back on his haunches.
"You'll catch pneumonia if you don't get some dry clothes on, Sammy," Dean found himself saying, somehow managing to get himself into a sitting position. He squinted appraisingly at his brother for a couple of seconds, before adding, "Why are you all wet?"
Sam wrapped his arms about himself, shivering despite the warm morning sunshine that seemed to fill the air all around without warming either of them.
"I – I jumped in the pool," Sam explained, eyes locking with his brother's. "When I saw… I mean, just – just after you went – you know – down there – " he indicated in the direction of the shed with his chin. "Uncle Ian called us back to the house. Said we needed to get dressed as he was ready to take us shopping. I was scared because I didn't know how I was going to explain where you were, but I started walking towards the house anyway, but when I got half way there, I got a bad feeling, and then I heard you yelling for me, so I came back to the pool, and you were – you were – on the bottom. And you weren't moving. And I thought maybe – maybe you were still trying to beat that stupid three minute thing that Daddy told you you should be able to do by now. I – I know he got mad last time, when – when you couldn't... And I didn't know whether you… So I jumped in…" Sam trailed off, finally stopping for air.
"Well I did three minutes today, Sammy," Dean wasn't smiling when he reached out and wiped the tears off Sam's cheek. "But only 'cause something was holding me down there."
Sam's eyes widened still further. "Something tried to drown you?"
Dean shrugged. "I guess," he said. "It pushed me in, then held me under. So. Yeah. I guess something tried to drown me."
Sam frowned. "It was weird though," he said, scrunching up his eyebrows. "As soon as I jumped in to try and pull you out, you started to float up towards me. Like – like – "
Dean raised a surprised eyebrow. "Like it let go of me?" he hardly dared ask.
Sam nodded slowly. "So that I could pull you out."
"Huh," Dean leaned backwards slightly, squinting at Sam as if to get a better look at him. "You pulled me out?"
Sam nodded again. "You're not that much bigger than me," he observed, trying to smile to disguise his barely-receding terror. "You weren't breathing," he added. "I thought you were dead."
Dean eyed him suspiciously. "If you did that kiss of life thing on me, you're a dead man," he promised.
Sam finally laughed at that. "No, just the chest compressions Daddy taught us."
Dean grinned at him. "Good job one of us was paying attention." He put his hand on the back of Sammy's neck, pulling him back into an uncharacteristic hug. "Thanks, squirt," he muttered into his hair. "You saved my bacon."
Sam returned the hug, more relieved than he could ever articulate to feel his brother's warmth against his own shivering body. "You owe me an hour up front in the Impala," he said.
The Impala.
Dean pulled away suddenly, the fearful look he'd worn for the last few days back in his eyes. "Dude," he said urgently. "I gotta show you something…"
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"Uncle Ian said we're not allowed down here," Sam objected, nevertheless following his brother through prickly shrubbery towards the old wooden shed.
They were both still dripping wet from the little mishap with the swimming pool, but Dean had insisted dry clothes could wait – this was far more important.
Sam had at least stopped shivering now, the shock of finding his big brother half-drowned starting to recede slowly into the dark place in his mind reserved for his worst nightmares.
And the latest shock had yet to sink in.
"He said we're not allowed in the garage," Dean pointed out, picking his way carefully over the treacherous garden. "He didn't say we weren't allowed near it."
Sam didn't really see the difference, and although Dean hadn't shared with him the fact that Uncle Ian had been watching when he was pushed into the pool, it didn't take a genius to see that his older brother really didn't trust the guy. Dean had good instincts about people, and if he was right to mistrust Ian, then Sam really didn't want to antagonise him any further by flouting one of the few rules he had insisted upon.
Dean's life might depend on it.
Trying not to dwell too much on that thought, Sam piped up, "So why would Daddy's car be in Uncle Ian's garage?"
He saw Dean's shoulders shrug. "I don't know," the older boy admitted. "But I can't think of any good reason. Only bad ones."
Sam didn't reply for a second, concentrating on tracing Dean's footsteps. "Dean?" he said at last.
"Yeah?" Dean replied, jumping over the last bush and standing staring apprehensively up at the structure before him.
Sam appeared by his side, following his gaze upwards. "You don't think – " he began, obviously looking for a way to phrase his question. "You don't think Daddy's – "
Dean looked down at him, a look more scared than angry in his eyes. "Don't, Sam – "
" – Dead, do you?"
Sam's lip quivered ever-so-slightly, and Dean had to resist the urge to sweep him up into another goddamn-chick-flick hug. Now who's being the girl? Instead, he just slung an arm over his baby brother's shoulder as nonchalantly as he could. "The day something gets the better of John Winchester," he said confidently. "Is the day Hell freezes over."
Sam smiled weakly at that, reluctantly following as Dean took a step towards the shed doors. Looking back, he didn't fail to notice Sammy's lack of enthusiasm, reading the uncertainty in his dark eyes. Dean got it: Sammy wasn't worried about Ian's telling them not to go into the shed. He was worried about what they'd find when they got there.
"It's okay, kiddo," Dean said, reassuringly. "We're just gonna look – "
"At what?"
Both boys jumped back about a foot as the shed's big wooden doors were suddenly pushed open and Uncle Ian appeared, ensuring the doors opened only enough to allow him to exit before hurriedly closing them behind him.
Dean just stared up at him open-mouthed, glancing from the garage to the direction of the house and finally back to his Uncle. "But – " he stuttered. "You were – you were at the house – " he faltered, brows drawn together in a confused frown. "You were at the window…"
Ian shook his head. "I've been here for the last half hour," he insisted, frowning right back. He looked down at Sam, who seemed torn between staring up at his brother and trying to peek through the little gap between the shed doors. "I called to you, right Sam?" Ian was saying. "Told you both to get dressed and go up to the house."
Dean didn't miss the challenging look in Ian's eyes just then, as his gaze shifted from the younger boy to the older. He knew Dean hadn't been with Sam at the swimming pool…
"Uh – " Sam stumbled, feeling his brother's fingers digging into his shoulder.
"Sam?" Ian prodded. "You heard me call you, right?"
Sam bit his lip. "Uh – yeah, I guess," he agreed slowly.
"And my voice didn't come from the direction of the house, did it?"
Sam looked up at Dean again, suddenly unsure of what he'd heard. When he'd told Dean Ian had called them, he had been positive his voice had carried from the house. But now he was just as sure his voice had come from the opposite direction. From the shed.
"I – " Dean, don't be mad, his eyes said as they met his big brother's. "I'm not sure," he managed weakly, looking down at his squelching sneakers.
"What do you mean, 'you're not sure'?" Dean demanded, trying not to sound too angry with the kid, but failing pretty spectacularly.
"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled, not even daring to look up until he felt Dean squeeze his shoulder again, pulling him closer to him as he did so.
Sam recognised that as Dean-speak for I'm not mad at you
Something bad was going on, that much Sam was sure of. Dean had taken up his much-practised Sammy Defence Stance, and although Sam was always the first to demand Dean stop treating him like a baby, right now he was more than happy that his big brother was standing between him and Uncle Ian.
There was something in the guy's eyes. Something Sam didn't like.
"I saw you at the house," Dean was saying, a determination in his voice that Sam hadn't heard there for a couple of days. "And you sure as hell weren't in there – " he indicated the shed with a nod of his head, " – when…" he trailed off, realising his error too late.
There was no mistaking the little smile playing over Ian's lips. "When what?" he asked, taking a step towards the boys.
Sam made to back away, but Dean held him firm at his side, chin raised, jaw set.
Dean had never reminded Sam so much of their Dad as he did at that moment.
"When what, Dean?" Ian repeated, taking another step forward as his eyes bored into those of the older boy.
If there was one thing Sam particularly admired about his older brother, it was the way he always stood up to bullies. Always stood his ground. Never gave an inch. Even if they were bigger than him.
And Uncle Ian was a lot bigger than him.
Dean gritted his teeth, eyes flashing. "Why's my Dad's car in your shed?" he demanded, voice strong and defiant.
Sam sucked in a sharp breath, Ian not replying right away, just taking another step towards them.
Sam really wanted to go now, but Dean held him fast, even as their Uncle towered over them.
He bent down towards them then, flinty eyes level with Dean's, and in one quick movement suddenly darted out a hand and grabbed the boy's shoulder.
Although Sam flinched for him, Dean didn't even blink.
And then Ian's face changed totally, thinly compressed mouth widening into a forced smile. "What?" he burst out, as if Dean had just said the funniest thing in the world. "Your Dad's car?"
Dean's face remained stony. "In your shed," he insisted, gaze never leaving Ian's. "I saw it," he added calmly, sticking out his neck so that his face was mere inches from his Uncle's.
Ian paused for a beat, before breaking into a peel of oddly inappropriate laughter, straightening up and glancing back over his shoulder towards the shed.
Hah! You looked away first, loser! Sam thought, not for the first time looking up at his brother with a mixture of awe and pride shining in his eyes.
"Dean, I do not have your Dad's car!" Ian insisted, raking his hands through his hair in exasperation. Then, yanking open the shed doors, he spat, "Here, take a look inside if you don't believe me!"
When Dean didn't move, Ian caught hold of his upper arm, fairly dragging him into the doorway, Sam following close on their heels, stopping when they did and peeking out from behind his brother cautiously.
"No way!" Dean burst out, eyes scanning the suddenly less-than-sinister garage now opened up before him. "It was right here!"
Sam followed Dean's uncomprehending gaze to where a rusty old Ford was partially concealed beneath an oily tarpaulin next to an ancient Dodge pick-up truck.
Dean turned accusing eyes up to his Uncle, who continued to maintain his unnecessarily tight grip on the boy's arm. "What did you do with it?" he demanded. "Where did you move it to?"
Ian's face was a total mask of innocence. "Honestly Dean," he said, voice all soft and patronising. "If you're going to make up these ridiculous stories, you could at least be consistent. Either I was up at the house or I was down here trying to hide your Dad's car. Can't have been in two places at once."
Dean frowned angrily at him, and Sam could tell he was trying to fathom some kind of explanation in his head.
"And where could I have moved it to?" Ian continued. "If I actually had it, that is. In the time you say you saw it here and the time – "
"You were trying to drown me," Dean supplied, trying to wriggle free of Ian's increasingly painful grip with no success whatsoever.
Sam held his breath, expecting Uncle Ian to get mad then. After all, it wasn't every day your nephew accused you of attempted murder.
But he didn't. He just laughed. And that angered Dean more than if he'd slapped him.
"So now I've gone from a car thief to an attempted child-killer?" he asked, shaking his head in exaggerated exasperation, more, Sam felt, for the younger Winchester's benefit than anyone else's. "Hear that, Sam? Your brother thinks I tried to drown him!"
"Did you?" Sam asked instantly, causing both Dean and Ian to stare at him like he'd just started speaking in tongues.
Ian looked completely taken aback, and then extremely serious, before finally breaking into more derisive laughter. "You boys," he said, shaking his head while his arm tightened so hard on Dean's arm he barely suppressed a yelp. "I don't know what your Dad's been filling your heads with! Honestly! Now, run along to the house and get into some dry clothes. You'll both catch your deaths."
Dean didn't miss the irony of that statement.
"And we were supposed to be going shopping, remember?" Ian added.
"Yeah, and you were supposed to be working in your office this morning, not your shed," Dean growled, as Ian finally released his hold on him. "Remember?"
Ian made no reply, his smile never even slipping, and Sam had to grab hold of Dean's wrist and fairly drag him back out of the shed before their Uncle changed his mind.
"Dean, come on!" he said urgently, pulling his brother back out into the sunshine, where the other boy stopped, suddenly, just as the shed doors closed behind them.
Sam looked up at him uncertainly. His brother's jaw was still tightly clenched, and Sam could feel him shaking, although he wasn't sure if it was from fear or anger. Or both.
"Dean?"
Dean rubbed furiously at his arm, before suddenly turning to Sam, a look of complete desperation in his eyes. "Sammy," he said slowly, putting a hand on his kid brother's shoulder and bending down so that they were at eye level. "You believe me, right? You believe I saw Dad's car?"
Sam turned wide eyes up to his brother's, hand finding Dean's as it clutched at his shoulder. "I believe you," he said, never more sure of anything in his life.
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No cliffie this time - Okay, maybe a CHIP cliffie (CHevy Impala in Peril). Devil's Trap premiered in the UK last night - biggest CHIP cliffie in the world EVER! Oh my god, Mr Kripke, please save the car! (Oh, and the contents. Obviously.)
