ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.

Hey, guys!

Next one:

Prompt: "Sam and dean are on a hunt and Sam gets pulled or falls into the water and drowned dean saves him and mabe some a CPR scene but it's all ok in the end" by Hannah Rivera.

Set: Season 1, between episode 11 (Scarecrow) and 16 (Shadow).

Warnings: MentallyTormented!Sam, Mothering!Panicked!Dean, ANGST! I don't know why it took off with me. As soon as I read up on the monster the boys set out to hunt, it ran away with me... I hope you'll like it still!

TRIGGER WARNING! Depressing thoughts that could border on suicidal! They're not real, but still there, so BE CAUTIOUS!

The spell in the story is my poor attempt at translating an already existing spirit banishing spell into Latin. If you Google these spells and find one that starts with "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." you'll most likely find it. And the ritual - if that counts as one - is made up by me.

It still counts as a happy ending - for me, at least -, but there's a really big allusion to Season 2. You'll know when you get there. ;D

Alright, preparations over, let's enjoy the story!

P.S.: The italics in this story most definitely SUPPOSED to be written like that. Just in case it gets confusing...


Drowning In Dark Depths

The gunshot echoed through the forest from far away, bouncing off of the dark tree trunks. The small amount of moonlight shining down couldn't break through the foliage, except for one circle: a glittering, round lake. Its silvery glow was unbroken, not even a ripple of life disturbing the smooth surface. It was probably the only light source in the forest for miles.

Many feet above, a pair of wide hazel-green eyes watched the serene sight, terror running wildly amok in them. A small breeze brushed at chestnut-brown bangs, shifting them to the side from where they lay on a sweat-damp forehead. A shiver rushed through the owner of that frightened gaze, accompanied by a soft whimper escaping through the thin, trembling lips. Long, slender fingers hung lifelessly by the figure's sides, limp and shaky. A grimace contorted handsome features and one hand twitched, but otherwise nothing happened. It was as if the figure had turned into a statue...

A speck of dirt crumbled and fell from the edge and landed right in the deep end of the lake, creating the only ripple in the water. It was a long drop from the outcropping that reached above the lake. Some might say even deadly, if you don't have enough endurance or are too reckless.

And Sam Winchester, still rusty from the long break from hunting after being tucked away for so long at Stanford, was forced to face that fact... and his own probable demise.


"So, a black dog."

Sam glanced up from the papers he'd been perusing for the last few minutes. He and Dean had been discussing their current case and the information they got from the witnesses. His brother was now pacing up and down, thumbing through the pages of John's journal. The sight of that book punched Sam in the gut every time, knowing their father was out there, in danger and with no way to reach him. He just ignored the feeling of helplessness the journal always roused in him and the guilt of being away for so long from his family.

"All signs point to it" he replied, clearing his throat to get his voice under control. Dean was worried enough already about their Dad, he didn't need any mess from his little brother.

"So how do we get rid of it?" Dean asked, brow furrowing as he scanned a page more thoroughly before moving on.

"I don't think the dog itself is killing these people" Sam argued, but he already ducked his head for a chewing out he knew was coming.

Except it wasn't.

"Yeah..."

Sam snapped his gaze back to his brother. Dean was looking at him deep in thought, but Sam had a hard time deciding whether the man was watching him or staring through him into nothingness.

"I think you're right."

Sam's eyebrows disappeared under his bangs at that.

"I am?" He couldn't help but ask. Dean walked to the table and put the journal onto it. Sam could see a quick sketch of a black beast next to a long paragraph of John's writing.

"It says here that they're creepy but mostly harmless and usually predict someone's death. Not all of them are like that, but seeing how everyone died naturally or in an accident gives proof of this one being innocent" Dean explained, his features showing no lie, no tricks, no teasing. Sam felt weirded out by this and had the urge to mutter 'Christo' under his breath. "It's just... there was so much death in such a short time span..."

"Well" Sam spoke cautiously. He tried to stay on Dean's good side, so rudely interrupting his thought process wouldn't help him. The older brother turned his attention to him, listening. "We could banish it, forcing it to change locations or just... ease up on the death-omen thing for a while."

"Would this kill it?"

"No, just... inconvenience it for some time."

"Good" Dean nodded. Since when did Dean advocate "ask questions first, shoot later"? That was Sam's shtick. "What do we need?"


Turns out, hunting a black dog was easier than anyone would've thought. The brothers drove to the forest outside of Dahlonega, Georgia where the sightings of the black dog had occurred. It was a good thing Sam insisted on being thorough during the questioning, because Georgia was filled with forests, which meant that Dahlonega was surrounded by trees.

Sam waited until Dean checked then double-checked the Impala, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his brother's babying of a hunk of metal. It was home to both of them, but this idolizing was getting ridiculous.

He shouldered the backpack that was filled with the ingredients to the spell to banish the black dog. Dean got his shotgun out, loaded with rock salt. He had volunteered for guard duty while Sam performed the spell. They wandered through the trees, just far enough that the road and the town was not visible anymore. Sam looked around and found a smaller spot devoid of grass. He knelt down next to it and unzipped the back pack. He took out a bronze plate and placed it on the bare ground.

He could feel Dean's presence walking around him in a wider circle, checking their surroundings for any threat. Sam smiled faintly, feeling protected as always. He pulled a glass jar of powdered rosemary then sage, which he poured some of onto the plate. Stirring it with a finger, he sprinkled the small heap with one leaf of basil that he ripped to small pieces. As Dean walked back behind him, cocking his shotgun, Sam got three thick candles out, as well. He placed them standing on the flatter parts of the ground, surrounding the plate in a triangle. He got a matchbox out and as he dug one match out, he began chanting the spell he had quickly memorized:

"Cinis ad cinerem, pulvis ad pulverem."

He lit the match, the strike echoing in the silent forest, and held it to the candles, lighting them up counterclockwise, starting from the top. He let the serenity of the foreign tongue wash over him, knowing he needed a clear head for rituals and spells to work.

"Sit ventus flare vos, phantasma vulgivagus..."

A small breeze fluttered the candle light, bathing his features in flickering bronze. The powder seemed to stir on the plate but it was never pushed past the rim. Sam was still amazed when the spells they used affected nature, the call for help being answered with small signs like this.

"Et purgaras ex mundo viventium,

Divertas vos ad-"

The air in his lungs halted as his voice broke off abruptly. He froze, the match still burning after the third candle was lured to life. His body grew more and more tense as something engulfed his hunched form. He tore his gaze away from the candles and averted it forward. He could faintly hear the small whoosh! of Dean's shotgun lifting to aim.

A big, slender, dark canine was standing in front of them, maybe a feet away.

Sam gulped as the glowing golden eyes bore into him, the gaze calm and almost calculating. The black dog was completely unfazed by two mortals staring it down, trying to get rid of it. It didn't move to attack, it didn't cower in fear, it just... stared. Unblinking. Unmoving. Calm.

Knowing.

Sam's eyes widened as a rush of tremor washed over his body. The dog kept its gaze fixed on his, completely ignoring his brother. It watched him, taking him in, almost... sizing him up. Sam felt vulnerable, exposed under the spotlight of its stare. His breath hitched as he tried to break away, but it kept him captivated, entranced...

"Sammy" Dean spoke softly, but his tone was hard with tension. "Keep going."

Sam opened his mouth, wanting to continue, but something... The dog was just staring at him, it wouldn't look away as if it could see inside him, read him like a book...

Again: knowing.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice sounded like the explosion of a cannon in the tense silence. Sam jerked and blinked, freeing himself from the snare of that gaze. He opened his mouth and continued as if he had never stopped:

"-quo te pertinent"

This time keeping his eyes lowered and on the plate, he moved the still burning match above the powder. He could faintly hear soft steps rustling the grass ahead of him then the crunch of a branch. He glanced up for a fraction and he thought he could see the black dog closer and sitting right in front of him. He didn't let it distract him as he finished the spell:

"Et licet vos evanescet sine vestigii."

He threw the match onto the powder which flashed with flames and energy. Sam glanced up at the dog, which was still staring at him intently, but its outline was beginning to blur. The younger Winchester shivered once more as that golden gaze bore into his eyes, his brain, his soul. Cold unlike any other engulfed his heart, spreading onto his insides, not letting up even as the dog's body began dissipating like smoke blown away by a breeze.

The last thing he saw of it was its lit eyes, watching him knowingly, not letting up the... not promise, but warning.

He was going to die.


The occasional chirp of a cricket wasn't enough to distract Sam from the lake below him. He let out another whimper as the silvery glow seemed to blind him. He wanted to look away, his head beginning to ache from the sight, and the world seemed to sway a little in his mind...

The only solidity was the smooth surface of the clear, peaceful lake.

Sam gasped as, for the hundredth time, the height of the outcrop registered in his mind. If he fell, there's a big chance he won't make it. He wasn't as physically strong as Dean, he had been slacking off for four years, only catching up to himself since he got back into hunting... He can't fall off the ledge, not now, not when things were starting to settle down between him and his brother...

But he couldn't tear his eyes away... It was calling...

To him...


"You okay?"

Sam jumped at Dean's terse voice and began cleaning up. The powder had already burned away, so he dumped the ashes onto the ground. He blew out the candles and put everything back into the backpack then jumped up to leave this place, but Dean's sudden firm grip stopped him.

"Hey" the older man pried gently, concern creasing his brow as jade green eyes roamed over Sam's face. "You okay?"

Sam sighed but hardened his features, not wanting to worry his brother anymore. He was already doing a crap job of that, no need to give fuel to the fire.

"'M fine. Let's go!"

Dean held him in place for another second then, with a nod, let him go. They began walking back towards the Impala, ready to blow this joint and put it into the rear-view mirror.

Out of nowhere, an inhuman screech reached their ears, making them halt and spin around instantly. Dean had his shotgun raised and ready to fire, while Sam yanked his pistol out from the waistband of his jeans, cocking it during the fluid motion. At least, that reflex was still alert inside him.

They stayed quiet for a minute, waiting for another sign of a monster, either to show them the right direction or to appear before them. Sam's ears began ringing from the deafening silence as they strained to pick up any out of place sounds around them. Even the crickets seemed to have been scared mute from whatever was out there. He could feel Dean's body practically vibrate against his outstretched arm, eager and prepared for a fight.

Suddenly, a loud rustle and crash erupted above them. They only had time to look up before something large descended onto them, its body landing mostly on Dean and shoving Sam backwards. The younger man quickly got to his feet, gun immediately lifting up to fire. He flinched as Dean let out a painful yelp then the large body lifted up in the air, clumsily dragging the older Winchester with it, another loud rustle sending a wave of wind at Sam.

It was a harpy.

Sam couldn't understand why this creature was out here alone, although judging by the dazed, bloodshot eyes just illuminated by the moon, it must have been lost and sickly, maybe even on its final days.

But it was still strong enough to drag a victim, namely Dean, away for a late dinner.

Sam aimed and pulled the trigger. He would've got the harpy, but since Dean was struggling to free himself, as well, and the harpy was a moving target, the bullet missed its heart and bounced off of a wing. It let out a scared screech and let Dean's arm go. The hunter dropped gracelessly to the ground with a grunt. Sam quickly hurried to his side as the harpy flew away with another frightened shriek.

"Come on" Sam helped his brother to his feet, quickly checking him over. Other than the torn sleeve of Dean's jacket - not the leather one, thank God - and some dirt, the man was fine. "You okay?"

"Yeah" Dean gasped out, grasping Sam's shoulder for support for a minute. Once he got his breath back, he straightened up and his face grew more stern. "Let's get this bitch!"

Sam nodded in agreement. He had his own heart attack when the harpy grabbed Dean, so who knows when it will strike on someone innocent next?

"Do we have anything with us?" he asked, smoothly switching back into hunting mode.

"The car's not far from here" Dean replied, already rushing towards the edge of the forest. "There should be some fuel and knives in the trunk."

Changing their gear took less than five minutes, the brothers moving as smoothly and efficiently as the gears of a well-oiled machine, and soon they were treading through the trees once more, armed with knives and pistols, one smaller can of lighter fluid in each of their bags.

"Did you see where it went?"

Sam was startled by his brother's question. It should've been expected since they stumbled upon a hunt where tracking was needed, but he was caught off-guard - and left guilty.

"Not exactly" he admitted reluctantly. Lying right now was too risky. "I think it went deeper into the forest." Dean glanced at his brother, who just couldn't make out the emotions flashing through his eyes, but he could guess one of them was annoyance.

"Alright" Dean spoke, his voice not showing any disappointment. "Let's split up, maybe we'll find it faster."

"You sure it's a good idea?" Sam couldn't help but ask. When he received a smirk in return, his heart eased up a little.

"Well, we have a better chance at survival than tweens these days."

Sam snickered in response then with a nod the brothers departed. The younger man dismissed the cool dread forming in his gut with a deep relaxing sigh.


Long, long silent minutes passed, stretching into an hour. Sam was wading through the forest, gun raised next to his head, ready to aim at anything coming his way. He hadn't heard any screeches or rustles that indicated the harpy, so he spent some of his mind's capacity to pray for Dean's safety. There was a big chance his brother had headed in the right direction.

Sam stopped for a second, as he had done so far every few minutes, doing nothing but listening. He even closed his eyes to avert his attention to his hearing. The breeze occasionally still blowing around him rustled the leaves of the trees and bushes, sometimes picking up a few dry ones and sliding them a few inches from their resting places. He could hear something thin and constant in the background, but that just helped him focus on more out of place noises that could occur. He chalked it up to the tension of the silence surrounding him since he had been picking up on it for a while now.

"Sam..."

Sam jumped at the faint voice coming from thin air. His eyes slammed open and roamed frantically around him, but he could see no one hiding among the trees. That voice... It came from his right and... sounded so much like Dean...

Cautious as ever, Sam took a couple soft steps towards the source of the voice. There was a chance that Dean had shouted for him from a distance, but ever since the shapeshifter case in St. Louis, he didn't trust sudden appearances of his brother until he made sure it was actually Dean.

Sooner than he expected, he broke through the treeline...

And halted at the shore of a lake.

The water was smooth and bathed in the glow of even the faintest moonlight. The forest was silent around it, the chirps of crickets emanating from deeper in the darkness, giving a soft background noise. On a good day - or night - it would've been a perfect resting place, just to kick back and watch the stars, sipping a bottle of beer or even a glass of wine...

Sam shook his head, dismissing the want for some peace these days. Everything had been so hectic for the last few months, he just wanted a few minutes to stop and enjoy living. But that had to wait now. He needed to find his brother and/or the harpy before it was too late-

"Sammy..."

Sam startled again. Dean's voice seemed to come from across the lake. He lifted his gaze to the treeline in the distance, narrowing his eyes as he tried to make out any movement or shape from this far away. As he stared ahead, he had to catch himself multiple times, because his eyes kept averting from the trees and onto the lake. The scenery was so serene and beautiful... He longed to experience this peace, even before he left for Stanford...

Sam winced as his eyes began burning. He had been staring at the water and even forgot to blink. His breathing picked up as his insides tensed, sending warning signals to his brain. The thin, high-pitched ringing he had heard from earlier seemed to grow stronger and soon he couldn't find the strength to yank his gaze away from the lake.

'No...'

He gasped as his body froze, reacting to his own commands slower and slower. He frantically willed his limbs to move, his legs to shift backwards and away from the scene. He managed two or three shuffling steps back, but every single one ratcheted the ringing in his ear up tenfold. Another, this time painful, gasp erupted from his lungs and he could just feel his gun tumbling out of his hand and onto the ground. He hunched over in pain, eyes still stuck on the lake, and his backpack landed hard on the soft grass. Sam swayed in his spot as the ringing increased into a cacophony of sounds, and one of his still obeying instincts kicked in: he lifted his hands to his ears to stop it.

It was futile.

Sam collapsed onto his knees, clawing at his head and yanking on his hair, as if he was trying to physically tear the sounds out of his brain. He yelped with another tortured gasp and could almost feel something heavy settle onto his body, surrounding him, engulfing him, capturing him in its clutches...

And he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the water.

"Stop..." he whimpered, but he could barely hear his own voice through the jumble of sounds in his mind. They were still growing louder, deafening every one of his senses, but now he could distinguish them: voices.

"It was your fault-"

"You walk out that door-"

"Sam... I'm sorry..."

"-call my son Dean-"

"Mom never would've wanted-"

"You killed her-"

"No, stop" Sam sobbed out, feeling his nails digging into his scalp through the growing heavy haze settling onto his mind. But his plea went unanswered.

"Dad was disappointed in you? ... Always has been..."

"-called being a good son!"

"Where the hell were you?"

"-rather abandon your own mother for school-'

"You're a selfish bastard-"

"Please" Sam felt liquid trickle down his cheeks as he fought to stay afloat his wayward mind. The lake in front of him was swaying, the trees dancing, their branches pointing at him accusatory and taunting-

"Dean, no-"

"-left me with your sorry ass."

"- you betrayed your own family!"

"-don't think I had dreams of my own?"

"Is that an order?"

"Nonono" Sam tried to stop his mind but something sharp and painful tugged hard on that memory. He could feel something warm trickle down the side of his head as the memory was yanked to the surface, throwing his words at him, accusing, jumbled, but still hitting hard:

"Are you that desperate for his approval?"

"I have a mind of my own-"

"I'm sick of doing what you tell me-"

"-tired of taking your orders."

"-like a good little soldier?"

"Didn't mean to... didn't mean it..." Sam gasped out as everything around him began growing hazy. His fingers slackened, pulling at his hair with tiny pinpricks. At the same time, as his surroundings dimmed, he could see his own enraged features materializing in front of him. He saw his own mouth open:

"-just shut your mouth."

His own features morphed into Dean's bloodied and pained one, who began speaking, as well:

"Pull the trigger."

Sam whined weakly, trying to fight still, but the weight on him was still increasing, melting into his shivering body, as if it was trying to take his place, to force him out-

"-not pathetic, like you."

"No, please..."

"-you gonna kill me?"

"Dean, help..."

"-shut your mouth."

"Pull the trigger."

"Is that an order?

"Do it!"

BANG!

And just like that, everything disappeared in a snip of an ethereal pair of scissors, shoving Sam into darkness.


...

...

Wh... Where am I?

...

I... I-I can't... see... Dark...

...

Should I... panic?

I'm pretty sure I... should see... My eyes are open... aren't they?

...

Something... something's wrong... Should I worry?

I'm sure this is not right...

...

What is going on? How did I get here?

Wait...

...

Wait...

...

Was I... was I on a hunt?

The spell... Cinis ad cinerem... Why do I know that?

A hunt... Simple... Then...

...

No...

...

No... NO...

DEAN!

Sam jolted with a loud gasp, the black depths of his mind vanishing in an instant, almost blinding him with reality. He needed a few seconds to realize where he was. And when he did...

He wanted to scream in terror.

He was standing on the outcropping above the lake, his eyes still drawn to its smooth surface, ensnaring him, even his pores, his thoughts, his soul...

'Jump...'

Sam whimpered, gasping for air frantically. He couldn't move, he had to free himself before the harpy kills Dean! 'I can't let him die!' he thought desperately, trying to convince his body to move, to leave, to find his brother. 'He's in danger and if I can't find him, he'll die and I would never survive that-'

'He'll be fine...'

Sam jolted again. Those words... His own voice said those words in his mind... But he can't be sure, Dean surely needs him, 'we're partners and partners have each other's backs-'

'He doesn't need me... Not now, not ever...'

'No... No, he asked for my help in Stanford, he needs my help, I-'

'I'm just a nuisance...'

Sam sobbed as his own voice slammed that into his face so harshly. He wanted to shake his head, but his body was still frozen, captured by some unnatural force.

'No, I'm not' he argued, trying to fight the foreign thoughts invading his mind... No, not foreign... 'No, this isn't me, I'm-'

'I'm useless...'

'NO! No, he needs me to find Dad-

'He doesn't want to be found...'

'Nonono, he needs our help with the demon that killed Mom-

'-who died because of me-'

"Stop..." Sam forced out, but tears gathered once again in his eyes as the doubts he tried to bury deep inside him had been unearthed and laid bare in the dirt.

'I... I need to help Dean...'

'I'm just holding him back...'

'No, he-

'-would be better off without me. I just cause trouble for him. He worries enough for Dad, I just weigh him down-'

'No, that's not true-'

'But I can help Dean one last time...'

That thought made the air in Sam's lungs halt and his eyes widened. He felt his feet shuffle an inch forward against his will...

His toes were now hanging over the edge...

"No, don't..." he protested weakly, his voice getting lost again as his gaze fixated fully onto the surface of the lake.

'He'll get over it fast... He won't even mourn me... And he won't be distracted by my whining, leaving him more focused on important things instead of wasting his strength on me...'

"Dean, no..." Sam fought weakly, more and more sobs tumbling out of him as the world grew dim once more. "Don't leave me, please..."

'He wouldn't... abandon me like that...' His own thoughts grew weaker, more feeble... Or was he just in denial?

'But this way he won't have to worry over me...'

'But I won't be with him...'

'At least I'll be safe... That's what Dean is always worrying about... My safety... And I can give it to him easily...'

"No, I don't want to-" Sam tried to stop himself, but he could feel his own body tilting for ward. His weight slowly shifted off his heels and onto his toes... His toes that hung above a long drop, with no ground under them...

'I'll be safe... That's what matters... And Dean will forget me... Dad already did... They will move on and things will be better...'

Sam drew in frantic gasps as the hands of gravity slid over his body, ready to embrace him. He didn't want to do it, he wanted Dean-

"Sammy!"

'And I'll be safe...'

"Sammy, NO!"

Then his body moved past the point of no return... and plummeted.

The forest reverberated his long, terrified scream as his ears filled with the rush of air...

And the only reply that could break through it came from above him:

"SAAM!"


Dean collapsed onto the ground, his head and shoulders peeking over the edge of the outcropping. His vision grew hazy as he watched his brother's body fall towards the water, helpless to the force pulling him faster and faster downwards. He knew Sam would land head first into the lake...

He had just found this place when he had started to follow a well-worn path through the trees. He had already killed the harpy, torching its body and nest. Sam had apparently wounded it with his missed bullet, so he had to thank the kid for his coincidental help.

He had been calling for his brother for a while when he had found the path and had been sure this had been the road the black dog had occupied before being banished. He had shuddered at the image of the canine as it had stared at Sam so intently. Dean had also felt the dread curling into him at that moment.

And when he had found Sam standing at the end of the path, too still for his liking, that dread had increased into panic.

And now he could only watch as his little brother plummeted towards his fate... And judging by the whimpers and sobs that led to his fall, he wasn't going willingly.

He always knew Sam wouldn't just give up, but... the sight of Sam tilting into a long fall will be burned into his brain forever.

And his scream would haunt him till the day he died.


The collision with the water was deafening and hard. Sam almost lost his lungful of air he managed to gather from the force of the impact, spreading the ache of it through his whole body. His brain instantly jolted back to life as the cold seeped into his pores, and Sam found himself free from the snare of his unnatural stupor. For a brief second, he flailed around frantically, unable to find where the surface could be, but then he relaxed, hoping the water would lift him towards the right direction.

Soon, he felt the pressure brushing down his back and towards his sides as he was pushed upwards by the laws of physics. As soon as he was sure of his orientation, he shifted into a vertical line then lifted his head up. He could see the moonlight waving above him, bright and inviting. He kicked out, reaching towards it to propel himself upwards faster.

Thin, cold fingers dug into the hem of his shirt, yanking him back down with inhuman strength.

Sam whimpered, careful not to lose his air, and tried to kick his assailant away, but he felt his body sink.

Then a cold, slimy grip closed around his neck.

Sam wriggled, reaching up to pry the hand off, but another arm slid around his torso, locking him into a stiff embrace against a frail, skeletal body. He struggled even more, groaning with effort, his legs kicking out fiercely as he tried to get free, but a pair of long, thin legs surrounded him, propelling them both backwards.

'No! Dean, help!'

Sam continued struggling, trying to hit the body behind him, making it lose its grip on him, but he might as well try to kick a marble statue, underwater at that. His lungs began burning more and more as he used up his energy for his fight, but the thing holding him didn't seem that bothered by his movements. His heart was pounding louder and louder in his ears as the moonlight dimmed above him, slipping away and taking his freedom with it.

Suddenly, the grips around him shifted then he was shoved against something hard. He still somehow managed to keep his dwindling oxygen in his lungs, but before he could swim away, the hand slammed into his chest pushing him down. Sam blinked as he fought to make out the dark shadow appearing above him.

It was a thin, frail woman, skin green and slimy, eyes covered with a film, hair disheveled and floating like a filthy glory around her head. It had sunken cheeks and algae covered her skin. Sam couldn't see any gills and he knew the woman had legs, so one option was out. It wasn't a ghost that had drowned in the lake because she had a corporeal form to the touch, but seemed to shimmer in the water.

It must be a water wraith.

The wraith grinned at Sam, teeth covered in green, fangs longer to help feeding. Its free hand lifted to Sam's head and waded through his hair.

'Took me long enough to do this...'

Sam immediately recognized his own voice in his head, yet it was different. Dejected, lifeless... If it weren't for his own doubts, he would've known something was wrong from that alone. He began struggling again, trying to shove himself up - now he knew he was lying on the bottom of the lake.

The wraith hissed angrily into his face, trying to keep him down, but Sam fought harder. He knew he had maybe seconds to reach the surface for air-

Pain, dulled by ice-cold water, slammed into his chest. It came so out of the blue that it managed to startle the air out of his lungs. Sam quickly forced his mouth shut to keep some back, but his ears quickly filled with a long, unbroken ringing. This time it was lack of oxygen.

Through a blurring vision, he saw the wraith lift a fist up ready to strike again. Sam managed to yank his knife out of its casing on his belt, and tried to swing up, but he was already growing weaker. The wraith had no problem interrupting his move and pressure tightened around his wrist until the knife fell through limp fingers and onto the lake bed.

And then the fist slammed into his chest again.

This time, all the remaining air tumbled out of his mouth in large bubbles, rapidly overtaken by freezing, murky water rushing into his lungs, chilling his throat and airways painfully. Sam felt his body grow heavier by the second and his chest tried to expand, grasping for oxygen too out of its reach and only getting more water for its efforts. Sam could feel the cold slowly engulfing his insides and his body began convulsing as he fought to get air from anywhere-!

He vaguely felt fingers carding through his hair as his senses dulled. His body settled heavily onto the smooth, icy bed of the lake, weed softly brushing against his cooling skin. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier as the wraith leaned down and nuzzled his cheek and ear.

'I'm finally safe...'

His voice... From two places... His mind... And his ear...

Light... Light above... Growing brighter... Everything fading...

Warm... soothing... white...

A petite form... A warm smile...

Nothing else...


The smooth surface of the water was disturbed once more as something heavy slammed into it. Dean sped towards the point where Sam's body hit the lake, swimming deeper and deeper until he needed air. When he emerged he took a large breath, gasping for air steadily before diving again. He would never give up on his brother. Sam would never go willingly... Would never back out into his own death...

He needed to find him before it's too late.

He emerged once more, determination growing with every minute spent underwater. He won't let his brother down again. Not after they had just fallen back into their own strides together...

On his fourth dive, he thought he heard something, muffled by the water. He quickly resurfaced and yanked his silver knife out. If his suspicion was correct, he won't need anything else. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself to sink.

A hand yanked on his leg, pulling him abruptly under.

Dean instantly whirled around in the water, kicking at the hand on his ankle. He got a faceful of shrieks in return but he just swung his knife towards the source. The hand gripped his arm and yanked him closer to the thin, frail woman, who glared at him in fury.

Dean grabbed the woman's hair and pulled on it, making it screech angrily, but her grip loosened. Dean quickly raised his knife, but the water wraith yanked on him again, turning Dean's body downwards to drag him deeper. Dean almost lost his knife from the sudden jolt, but he focused on kicking at her stomach, hoping to distract her.

'Sammy is fine down here...'

Dean froze for a moment, but that was enough: the wraith wrapped her hand around his neck and began pushing him towards the bottom. Dean, however, recovered quickly. He swung his knife upwards and managed to graze the thin arm, which in turn snapped away from him, letting him go. He propelled himself upwards and just succeeded in pulling some air into his starving lungs before he was yanked down again.

The wraith was now furious.

'Sammy doesn't need me anymore... He never did... He was fine until I appeared in Stanford and ruined his life...'

But not as furious as Dean.

The words rushing through his head in his own voice didn't break him as the wraith intended. It just fueled his anger. He knew Sam had been put to this torture to make him break and turn him into an easy target who would be unable to fight the urge to drown himself. But Dean didn't let himself become that. He had more important things to do than wallow in his insecurities.

Like finding Sammy before he lost him again.

With that, he grabbed the wraith's neck, squeezed it tightly...

And plunged the knife into her heart.

Without waiting for her reaction, Dean swam upwards once more to get some air. The screech of the wraith was deafening even above the surface.

Once he gathered enough air into his lungs, he dived once more. As the wraith slowly dissipated, he yanked his knife out of her chest and swam away, his focus no longer on her.

Now, his determination was accompanied by panic. His fight with the wraith just wasted precious seconds of Sam's life and he can't afford that. He squinted and widened his eyes until they hurt, looking for any sign of his little brother, but so far... nothing.

He resurfaced once more, not willing to give up. He won't lose his brother again, not ever...

When he had to reemerge again, his heart jolted.

Were those... boots?!

He barely let himself get air before he dove back down, heart racing in his chest. Yes, boots! Attached to jeans! A beige jacket! A dark mop of hair!

SAM!

Dean quickly swam above his brother's unmoving body and saw his eyes closed and his lips parted. The world turned upside down as the sight sank into his brain: Sam wasn't awake!

He cradled his little brother's cheeks, searching for a sign of life, but he was unsuccessful. He felt the pressure of sobs fighting in his throat for freedom, but he couldn't let it loose. He slid his arm under Sam's torso and pulled on him, swimming upwards, hoping there was still time...

He gasped out loud as he broke the surface.

He yanked his brother upwards towards air, but Sam was too heavy in his arms and it made him sink back down. Dean felt a gulp of water rush down his throat before he kicked himself back up. He coughed then pulled Sam's back into his chest, laying the kid's limp head back onto his shoulder.

"Sammy?"

He grunted with effort to keep them afloat, but his eyes roamed over his brother's features. Sam's eyelids looked paper-thin, his skin was white, hair sticking onto his cheeks, his lips had turned blue-

That jolted his brain into action.

"Come on, kiddo" he muttered and kicked out in front of him, swimming backwards and to the shore with Sam resting on him, head above water. Dean hoped that his involuntary tugs on Sam's chest might upchuck the water from Sam's lungs and stomach, but when he reached solid ground, Sam remained still and heavy.

He laid his brother onto the grass, kneeling next to him and cradling his cheeks once again.

"Sammy?" he pleaded, and just the sight of Sam's lifeless face broke him almost completely. "Sammy, don't do this to me..."

Gasping against a sob, Dean leaned over Sam's immobile chest and listened. Nothing... No heartbeats, no rush of blood, no rumble of air. He straightened up and pressed two fingers to Sam's neck. No pulse...

"Nononono" Dean shook his head, denying the tears, which blurred his vision, and the fact laid out right in front of him. "No, you can't do this to me... Sammy..." Dean blinked and felt drops of water trickle down his cheeks... It was just water from the lake, of course...

Dean growled in fury.

"You won't do this to me!"

Quickly, he rose onto his knees and laid his hands, one on top of the other, right in the center Sam's chest. He began the compressions, hard and rhythmic, fueled by anger and some desperation. He mumbled the numbers under his breath, counting to thirty, at which point he grabbed Sam's head, tilted it back, pinched his nose and blew forcefully into his mouth two times. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam's chest rise slightly and he thought he could feel a drop of water hit his tongue. He returned to the compressions and fell into a furious monotony.

"You don't get to quit, you bitch!" He gasped out, keeping a careful count in his head. "You won't get... to leave me again!" He leaned down again, but paused for a fraction of a second: small, shiny streams of water were dripping down on Sam's cheeks, starting from the corners of his mouth. Dean leaned down and listened for any sign of breathing - futilely. Again, he gave two blows into Sam's mouth, which made Sam's chest rise even more, before resuming. "I'll never... forgive you... if you quit... on me, you... lazy asshole!" He ignored the crack of his voice as he fought for his brother's life and tried hastily feeding his anger even more. He had to remain furious if he wanted to stay calm...

More water was spewing slowly out of Sam's mouth and even his nostrils. That had to be a good sign, right? Dean continued his ministrations, grunting with every compression and making himself dizzy with every exhale into his brother's lungs. He can't give up, Sam has to come back, even if Dean broke his ribs in the process, he can't give in-

"Don't leave me... Please..." Dean unknowingly repeated one of Sam's panicked pleas before his fall as he grew more and more desperate. He can't let the bitch win, he can't give in, he can't lose Sammy-

A choked gag then a lung-shattering cough broke his focus. Dean's head almost flew off of his neck as he snapped it towards Sam's face. The kid was wriggling and convulsing, but he was alive!

"Sammy!" Dean cried out in relief. He hastily rolled Sam onto his side before wrapping his arms around the convulsing shoulders, pulling his little brother into a tight embrace. "It's okay, kiddo... It's okay... Just let it out, baby boy..."

Sam's shaking fingers grasped Dean's hand as the kid began gagging, throwing up an excessive amount of water. Dean raised his free hand to brush Sam's dripping mop out of the kid's face then returned it around Sam's stomach. He wedged his head into the crook of Sam's neck from behind, just letting his mind and body revel in the fact that his brother had returned to him. For a second, he forgot about the too strong shakes of Sam's body, the painful, barking coughs exploding around them, the stench of vomit and murky water invading his own lungs and the hitches of his breath...

He just took in the living, wriggling presence of his little brother, the only person his life was worth living for nowadays.


Sam jerked forward as he coughed forcefully, his throat and lungs burning from the inside out. He could feel soft, warm fabric embracing his curled up form, before soothing cold wiped at his steaming forehead. He forced his eyes open and took in Dean's worried frown as the man tried to cool his raging fever. Sam tried to speak, to calm his brother down, but instead another set of dry, barking coughs erupted out of his abused lungs.

"Easy, kiddo" Dean whispered, considerate about the sandpapers wishing to assault Sam's eardrums. "If this doesn't let up by tomorrow, I have to get you to the hospital. Before you get a too severe pneumonia."

Sam coughed once more, feeling as if his lungs wanted to claw their way out through his throat. The damp towel slowly slid down his forehead and onto his burning neck, soothing his rapidly beating pulse hammering away at his brain.

"De'" he rasped out, convulsing from the lava scorching his airways.

"Shh, kiddo, I'm here" Dean engulfed him in his warm embrace, the only warmth pleasant for Sam's oversensitive body.

"Don'... leave..."

Dean looked sad at his words, but his hand caressing his cheek and hair was nothing but loving.

"Never, Sammy" the man replied in a firm whisper. "Never..."


The soft, muffled chirps of birds flitted into the motel room when Sam opened his eyes later. A shudder rushed through his weak body, but a thick layer of blankets kept any warmth he couldn't store inside. He groggily looked around, his vision hazy and swimming. His stomach roiled slightly when the smell of sizzling bacon invaded his nostrils. It smelled delicious, but Sam didn't want to risk it yet. He moaned as he tried to call out for someone, anyone...

His head began throbbing from the loud, harsh coughing fit erupting out of him.

He curled up involuntarily, hugging his aching torso as he practically gagged into his palm. Every jerk of his body, every scraping on his throat sent a dull pain up his spine and into his brain. A warm hand steadied his convulsing body, brushing his , greasy hair out of his forehead.

It felt like days until he managed to calm down and look up again. Dean was watching him cautiously next to him, but when their eyes met, the man grinned at him.

"Welcome back, kiddo" the older Winchester whispered, stroking through Sam's hair in the by now very familiar motion. "Take it easy, I'll get you some tea."

Sam watched in a daze as Dean turned around and marched out of the room. Sam could just see his brother's back through the doorway, standing by the counter and pouring steaming liquid into a large white mug. He blinked, a little weirded out by the strange picture, too domestic than what he was used to. Dean wasn't even wearing boots!

When he looked again, Dean was already sitting on the edge of the bed, placing the mug onto the nightstand.

"Up we go, then" the man murmured, worming his hands under Sam's torso. Sam closed his eyes tightly as the world swayed and tilted around him a little too fast, but he was soon settled down against warmth and softness. His rising eyelids revealed himself reclining and Dean holding out the mug to his lips. Sam parted them and let the warm, sweet tea wash his aching throat down, swiftly soothing the pain and the scratching. He reached up with shaking fingers and cupped the warm porcelain, enjoying the heat melting into his white, cool skin. He pushed the mug away when it was half-empty. "Better?" Dean asked, keeping the tea in Sam's lap, letting him hold it with both hands. Sam gulped then opened his mouth for an attempt:

"Yes..." his throat flared slightly but the urge to cough had vanished finally. He winced as he registered his chain smoker-voice. "Thanks..."

"You're welcome."

"What..." Sam let his body roll with one smaller cough against a scratch in his throat and it eased off almost instantly. "What happened...?"

Dean's face darkened and the jade-green eyes slid to the side. Sam glanced down as something warm wrapped around his wrist: a hand.

"What do you remember?" Dean finally asked. Sam closed his eyes and relaxed back as he mentally took the trip back in time.

Thin, constant ringing...

Silvery glow...

Smooth water...

Golden eyes... Turning pale and covered with a film...

A screech... A scream...

"SAAM!"

Sam gasped as he returned to the present. He slid his free hand onto Dean's outstretched arm and copied the same grip on his brother's wrist.

"You... came..."

"Of course, Sammy. I will always save your ass."

"'M sorry..."

"Don't" Dean's gaze hardened in anger. Sam wanted to flinch but his brother leaned forward, drilling his gaze into bloodshot hazel-green eyes. "It wasn't you. I heard you up there. You tried to fight it. It tried to get to me, too. But I had to save you from the water so it didn't work."

This time, Sam actually flinched.

"Di'n' work f' me" he rasped out devastated. Dean frowned as he scooted next to his little brother, leaning against the headboard with his side.

"What do you mean?"

"Wan'ed t' save you" Sam sniffled as he slid into his brother's chest, hoping to get some comfort before all Hell broke loose. "Couldn't stop..." The younger man's head lifted from the sigh travelling through Dean's lungs, speeding the older man's heart up for a second.

Then an arm wrapped around his shoulders, just lying there, making its comforting presence known. Sam closed his eyes as he basked in the touch.

"You watched me being grabbed by a harpy to be dragged off" Dean began softly, no reprimand in his gruff tone, "and shot at it, saving my ass not just then but later when I torched it, as well. I watched you fall from a height of God knows how much and hit a hard body of ice-cold water with who knows what speed... There's a difference, kiddo."

"But-"

"I was angry because I couldn't stop it happening..." Dean continued, cutting Sam's protest off. "I was panicking because I was on the worst time-crunch of my life... I was too focused on finding you to let that bitch get to me... I was too terrified to lose you, so I didn't let her divert my attention."

"Me, too..." Sam protested weakly, eyes brimming with tears as memories from before his fall reemerged from the dark recesses of his mind. "Don' wanna lose you..."

"I know, Sammy" Dean squeezed Sam's shoulders reassuringly. "But you had a positive experience when I got in danger: you saved me. I had a negative one: I was too late and couldn't catch you before you fell. Then you..."

Sam glanced up as Dean's voice broke. The older man was gazing at the wall behind them, fighting the obvious glitter covering his eyes. Sam frowned, not sure what brought this on-

White, bright light...

A petite form...

"Did... did I...?" he tried asking uncertainly. Dean glanced down at him, gazing at him in wonder and awe before nodding. Sam's eyes widened in shock. No wonder he was so sick. He...

He drowned...

Sensing even with his muddled instincts that his big brother was upset, Sam shifted around. Dean quickly reached down and grabbed the mug from his weak grasp before it soaked them and put it behind him onto the nightstand. Sam turned onto his side shakily and burrowed himself into Dean's chest, grasping at the soft shirt and resting his cheek on his brother's upper arm. That arm wrapped around him from the front, while his free one slid up Sam's back, rubbing at it for a while before fingers settled amongst his tresses.

Sam closed his eyes, trying to register how close he got to... not being anymore and it sent a shudder throughout his body. He let more tears flow and sobs constrict his chest as a bleak picture entered his mind: his brother broken, wasting away from the guilt... Feeling like a failure at his most important job: watching out for his little brother... The heartbreaking prospect almost caused physical pain for him. Would his brother feel like Sam would if Dean died in front of his eyes? If Sam was too late? Because if the answer is yes, then Sam would rather run away again than cause that pain to his only family... Not even his Dad can invoke such a devastation on him... And apparently on Dean, as well.

"Sammy..."

Sam flinched as a voice spoke in his head. He grasped Dean's shirt tighter, afraid that the wraith got into his head again, despite it being dead. He tried to pay attention to Dean soothing his shaking body, but then:

"Mom...?"

Dean froze at his breathless voice. Tense silence filled the motel room as Sam tried to pinpoint the source of that loving voice while his brother fought his shock at what was suddenly revealed to him. Sam finished first: it was another memory...

"Sammy..."

The petite form standing in the warm white glow smiled at the young man stepping closer to her. Sam watched with wide eyes as none other than Mary Winchester waited for his approach, her jade-green eyes - so much like Dean's - glowing with love.

"M-Mom..." Sam breathed, tears rolling down his cheeks at the one person he loved and never could've met. He walked slowly towards her but as more of her beautiful features were revealed to Sam's eyes, the weaker and shakier he got. Just a step or two away from her his knees gave up and crumbled.

A pair of small, strong hands caught him and guided him onto the... ground? Light? Air?

Sam watched as Mary knelt down next to him and leaned into the smooth, soft touch of her palm caressing his cheek.

"My sweet, sweet baby boy" she whispered, her angelic voice choked by her own tears. Sam felt himself collapse on the inside and with soft sobs he burrowed himself into her embrace. She hugged him tightly and lovingly, like no one else could, not even Dean... Like only a mother could... Sam never had that and now it hurt him so much with how much he missed it...

"Mom" he gasped out, clutching at her desperately. "'M sorry... I tried..."

"Shh, baby" Mary soothed, carding her fingers through her youngest son's hair painfully similarly to Dean. "I was so proud of you when you got into Stanford. I'm so sorry for all that's happened to you since you left, but I'm proud of what you and your brother are doing, saving so many people... Jessica loves you, as well, baby, she sends her love..."

Sam straightened up in shock and gazed into his mother's eyes.

"R-Really?"

"I swear" Mary answered with a warm smile. "I would've loved to call her my daughter-in-law... But Sam, what are you doing here?"

Sam frowned. He looked away and had the sudden urge to turn back. That, however, only revealed impenetrable darkness.

"I don't know" he gazed at his mother, looking for answers. "I'm dead, I guess..."

"She sent me back" Sam said, catching Dean's attention. "She waited for me... on the other side and sent me back... She said it wasn't my time yet."

"Damn right it wasn't" Dean growled out, tightening his hold on his little brother. He didn't see Sam closing his eyes in relief. The younger man was glad and the pain of leaving the peace behind was now even more worth it. "At least it's over now. I guess... the black dog was right. And I'm glad we survived that."

Sam didn't answer. Yes, things were fine now. He was back with his brother, alive, ready to resume their search for their Dad.

He didn't need to tell his brother about Mary's tears.

He didn't need to tell him about her sad, grave voice.

He didn't need to tell him how she said: "We'll meet again... Soon..." in such a dejected tone.

He didn't need to tell him of the cold dread still swirling in his gut, biding its time.

And he didn't need to tell him about the faint outline of a canine sitting next to the bed, staring at him with brightly glowing, golden eyes, reading his soul...

Knowing his fate...

He was going to die.

Much sooner than he wanted... or expected.

The End


So, how was it?

I really hope you liked it.

I might post the next prompt the day after tomorrow. I'm halfway done and it's already this ^ long...

See you soon, then!