CHAPTER 4
Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin
The freeway was gray underneath a gray sky, and the land on either side looked gray with dead plants and lack of sunlight.
Dean pulled the car to a rumbling stop in front of the Carlton house, pulling the gear shift into park and then leaning back into the seat with a sigh. The sky was too gray, too gloomy.
Why can't we get a little sun every now and then? Stupid weather.
He made a grim sort of smirk as he turned to look at Sam.
He stopped himself from speaking when he saw him. Sam was staring out the window at the black water of the lake.
Oh my god. I forgot...
Dean clenched his jaw, silently cursing himself. How could I forget? How could I possibly forget that-
"Alright, let's get this done," Sam said calmly, sounding bored.
Dean started, confused. Sam was looking at him expectantly, hand on the door, calm as anything.
"Wh...okay, yeah," Dean stumbled over the words, feeling totally out of the loop now. Sam was looking at him questioningly, like Dean was acting strange, of course I'm acting stange, since when is Sam fine being within a mile of any body of water?! Sam opened the door and got out of the car.
Dean watched him for a second, unsure what was happenning.
"You coming?" Sam asked from outside, tapping impatiently on the windsheild.
"Yeah," Dean muttered, "yeah, I'm coming..." not loud enough to be heard. He climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him and steppping up next to Sam to head up to the front door, watching his brother's face out of the corner of his eye.
How are you not afraid, Sammy?
* * *
Will Carlton led them through the back of the house and outside to a massive view of the lake. Dean looked from the glassy water to his brother, who seemed to be having no reaction except to look at the lake and scrunch up his nose once, then keep walking.
Well dang.
The edge of the water was more gravel than sand. Dirt with random weeds and tufts of grass lined the logs laid along the water, a kind of barrier that didn't seem very effective to Dean. Dean cast a glance at Sam again, wondering when Sam had just gotten over the whole 'deathly afraid of water' thing. They were walking out onto the gravelly part, nearer and nearer to the logs at the lake's edge, and if anything Sam looked professional, unfazed and merely contemplative.
Seriously, what the heaping heck, man?
Dean, however, was not okay. Getting further from regular land toward the musty smell of waterlogged earth and soddy plantlife, fishy air and dampness everywhere, Dean was more freaked out than he wanted to admit. He's fine, I should be fine too. He's not gonna fall in or anything, I mean, he can't fall in, we're not going that close, right? And I mean, even if we did, it's not like he could drown in the shallows oh my god is that a dock? What the heck, we're not walking toward the dock are we? We are, we're walking in that direction, why are we walking toward the dock? Sam could fall, he could fall off and drown and die and hey we're stopping, oh good, no dock, and why are you so calm, Sam?!
Dean kept his face blank, trying not to freak out. Please, I'm not freaking out, nothing freaks me out, I'm totally calm, and fine, and not confused at all. Is the kid talking? I think Carlton's talking, I should probably pay attention.
"...about a hundred yards out," Will was saying, "and that's where she got dragged down."
Dragged down, held under, glass tank, school pool, oh god, Sammy...
"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean asked, and he was relieved he sounded so nonchalant about the whole thing. Just drown, just drown? What am I talking about, nobody 'just drowns'...limp body, not moving, breathe for him, compressions one, two, three, four, five...
"Yeah," Will answered, and the sadness in his voice was profound, sobering. He looked out at the lake, no doubt seeing what he had seen over and over again in his mind, "She was a varsity swimmer; she practically grew up in that lake. She's as safe out there as in her own bathtub." Dean watched the wistful look fade as Will turned back to him. Who says a bathtub's safe, huh Sammy?
"So, no splashing?"
Dean jerked when Sam spoke, surprised to realize he hadn't been expecting to hear him talking during this at all. Dean didn't look at him, but the sound of Sam's voice gave him enough to picture what his brother was looking like in his head; quiet but calm, nothing but a perfect job-face. A hunter.
"No signs of distress?" Sam finished and Dean struggled to keep his confusion under wraps, feeling something else rising inside of him besides the guilt and nervousness, something heated and formless...
"No," Carlton was responding, sounding frustrated, "That's what I'm telling you-"
"Did you see any shadows in the water?" Sam interrupted, "Maybe some dark shape breached the surface?" and Dean looked him full in the face now, his mouth slightly open. It was shocking to see Sam like this, able to think and function when the water was right there, it's right there, Sam, can't you see it? I can't even think, how can you think about the hunt when the water is right there? and Dean felt the hot thing inside him grow and flush his head, barely staying away from his face. Anger.
I'm angry, why am I angry, get a hold of yourself Dean...
"No," Will Carlton told Sam, "again, she was really far out there."
Say something, act normal...
"You ever see any strange tracks along the shore line?"
Oh yeah, real smooth there, Dean. Totally normal.
The look on Will Carlton's face made Dean feel slightly stupid, and did nothing to ease the firey and unexplained anger that wouldn't stop burning at his insides.
"No, never," Will said uncertainly, "Why? Why, what do you think's out there?"
Say something Dean, Sam's looking at you.
"We'll let you know as soon as we do."
And with that, Dean turned to stride away, still trying to figure out why he was feeling so upset, so betrayed...
"What about your father?" Dean whirled when he heard Sam speak, his voice coming from a ways behind him, not where he thought Sam had been, "Can we talk to him?"
And Dean would have liked to pretend it never happened, but he had a brief and sharp moment of panic when he saw his brother standing so close to the lake without him, so close to the water that always seemed to get the better of him except for right now.
And suddenly, Dean knew why he was angry.
The kid looked back towards the dock, and Dean followed his gaze as he stepped back to Sam's side, trying to cool down. He saw the man sitting out on the dock by a boat, staring out over the water.
The anger was qualmed by a sudden sweep of honest fear in Dean's belly.
No, no I don't want Sam out there, not on the dock, it's too close, I don't care if he's not afraid anymore, I don't care if he doesn't need me, I don't want...
Dean was glad when the kid said no. They walked steadily back to the Impala in silence.
The hot sensation was back, mixed with an icy cold streak. Why is this a big deal? So what if he got over it without my help. So what if he didn't need me, not even for the biggest obstacle he's ever faced in his life. God, why is this killing me?
In the car, Dean sighed while Sam walked around and opened to passenger side to climb inside. Dean looked at his brother, careful to keep the fire and ice off of his face, trying not to look shocked and angry and betrayed and belittled and confused and guilty or anything else. Sam looked fine...
"You okay?" Dean asked gruffly. Sam looked surprised.
"Am I okay?"
Dean just raised his eyebrows a little.
"Yeah," Sam said, looking uncertain about whether to say anything else. Dean stared at him a little longer.
He's not lying. When did this happen? It's like I don't even know him...
"What?" Sam asked, looking uncomfortable now.
"Nothin'."
Dean started the car and pulled away.
* * *
The Lakefront Motel was only a couple of blocks from the sheriff's station, as Andrea had so nicely pointed out to him.
A decent pick-up line? I'm the king of pick-up lines. I'm the friggin' guru of lines that will get you to jump into bed with me. Just didn't want to use any of them then. Pshhh...sense of direction...humph.
Dean was waiting for Sam to get out of the shower so they could do some research and figure out what was drowning drowning, not breathing, tank, pool, Sam, drowning the people around this ridiculously gray town.
In fact, Dean was noticing that Sam was taking a pretty long shower, which was weirding him out.
Sam used to take, like, three minutes in the shower, three and a half tops, never in for an extended amount of time. He used to hardly get all the shampoo out of his hair.
He'd spent eleven minutes and fourteen seconds in there already. Not that Dean was counting or anything.
Still it was just weird to think that Sam could sit there and possibly relish the hot water.
Water.
Water.
Water.
Dean shook himself. Stop wiggin' out. Not that he was wiggin' out to begin with. Not that he even used words like wiggin anyway.
The sound of the shower cut out. Dean fumbled for a minute to find something to do, or at least look like he'd been doing. He settled for playing solitaire on the open laptop. Sonuva... Make that spider solitaire. How does this crap work....
Sam came out toweling his hair, and set about grabbing clothes before shutting himself back inside the foggy bathroom to change.
Dean barely caught himself before slamming the laptop shut. As it was, he smashed his fingers and jumped up, cursing.
Sam came back out and stared for just a second, clearly trying to stifle a smirk. Dean just glared, and it his tongue to keep from saying anything. Get over it Dean, just do the job...
Sam came over and sat down at the laptop, and proceeded to pull up various pages of information, narrating like usual the specifics of the case. Dean couldn't help it, he managed to keep his face neutral as he came to stand behind Sam and look at the computer screen over his brother's left shoulder, but he was seriously irked. He's talking so casually, Dean mused, frustrated, but he noticed Sam also never actually said the word drown during his little monologue. Fine, I can play it cool, too. Easy.
And it was.
Until they saw the picture of Lucas, the kid from the police station, Andrea's kid. Ah hell.
Dean stood up straight and stood back, the anger rising up again, a hint of it showing up in his expression along with a kind of tightness in his chest. He looked at the picture again, at the kid with long hair and big eyes, and he didn't even see Lucas anymore, it was Sam.
Sam. Who was still reading so calmly, sounding a bit sad but not much else, while Dean could barely control himself. Dean took a breath, and lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head as he tried to find something to say, but Sam commented first.
"Looks like we have an eye witness after all," Sam surmised, and Dean pursed his lips, zoning out as he looked at Lucas's face.
"No wonder that kid was so freaked out..." and Dean caught Sam's shoulders tightening out of his periphery, the tension suddenly lining the side of his brother's face. Fine, Dean decided, a sour tang of bitterness flitting across his mind. Dean added a clarification to his sentence, "watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over." Sam relaxed, even if his frown grew more pronounced.
"Right," Sam said, his eyes flickering.
Right, Dean thought, staring at the back of his brother's shaggy head, exactly.
* * *
He felt another uncontrollable moment of panic when they went back to visit Bill Carlton after Will drowned in their kitchen sink.
Because this time they had to go out on the dock. So not okay, so not okay.
But it was obvious that Sam didn't have this under quite as much control as Dean had originally thought. While he was gauging every step Sam took older brother, okay, I'm allowed to be a bit paranoid he saw the pause before each step, only a moment's hesitation, barely noticeable.
He also saw Sam check that Dean was still there every other step. Being on the dock was clearly weirding Sam out.
Me too, man, Dean tried to force his heart to stop pounding in his throat, me too.
* * *
"Let me talk to her," Sam said, like he knew everything.
Dean turned to face him, and they stood like that for almost a whole minute, stony silence, but Dean could see it in Sam's eyes, what he was really saying, 'I know how to help her get over this. You don't'.
Andrea was just in the next room, wrapped in a robe with her hair still wet and still coughing up a bit of water, crying. She hadn't acknowledged Dean's consoling or questioning at all.
The woman had almost drowned. And Sam had pulled her out of the full tub. Sam had stuck his arms in that dark water without hesitation. Sam wanted to be the one to talk to her.
Dean didn't have anything to say. Can't you just....tell me? He merely nodded and stood aside.
* * *
Sam strode carefully over to Andrea sitting on the couch, and sat across from her. The sun was just coming up outside the window, and it made the tear tracks on her cheeks look freshly wet.
They sat there for just a second. He knew Dean was just outside in the hall, he could all but hear him holding his breath, listening.
He looked at Andrea, who was avoiding his eyes.
"Can you tell me?" he asked her quietly.
And then he heard Dean walk swiftly away, down the hall and up the stairs, no doubt to check on Lucas.
* * *
Lucas was in the water. It was all Sam could get his mind around, the boy, the kid, in the water, dark and cold and everywhere.
He had to do something.
"Andrea, stay there!" he called behind him, running down the dock, and when she started to protest, "we'll get him! Just stay on the dock!" We. We. We. Dean's with me. We'll get him. We.
And then Sam dove, and when he saw the inside of a glass tank, he punched his way through it and swam deeper, eyes peeled for Lucas.
* * *
Dean dove.
And he sensed Sam dive in behind him, and it was like a punch in the gut, Dean blew out most of his air in one gust, and then twisted around in the water, eyes wide and stinging in the murky water as he could barely make out Sam swimming swimming, swimming, oh my god and just like that, they were both scanning the dark lake, going deeper and then bolting back up for air.
Dean got up first, and with the air came bak that feeling, the one where he was on the other side of the glass, and his hands were tied.
"Sam?!"
And then Sam broke the surface, and he was there, and Dean didn't hesitate again before diving back down.
Lucas...
* * *
Sam balked.
Jake was in the water, and something was pulling him down.
Sam tried, but he couldn't find him anywhere.
He felt sick when he thought of Jake drowning to death.
* * *
Without making the jump consciously, Dean had deceived himself once he got the kid in his arms.
It wasn't Lucas he was trying to save anymore, it was his brother.
And when they broke the surface, and he wasn't breathing, Dean wasn't sure if he could either.
But he got them to shore, and just like that it wasn't sand or dirt or gravel but the dirty, sopping concrete floor of a warehouse, with broken glass scattered around, and Dean started CPR without a second thought.
And he was glad for the water on his face.
* * *
Sam was holding Andrea, watching horrified as Dean looked almost desperate while he worked on Lucas.
"Sammy," Dean managed brokenly, once between compressions, and Sam barely caught it over Andrea sobbing.
"Dean?" Sam answered, his eyes hot and locked on the boy's chest.
"God Sam, please," Dean said, shakier this time, and it clicked in Sam's head at exactly the same moment that Lucas's lungs kick-started, and Dean gasped, and fell back on his haunches, and gripped his hair with his hands, staring at the boy coughing up water as his mom pulled him into her arms.
Sam reached out and gripped Dean's shoulder, shaking him.
"Dean," he watched his brother drag his eyes away from Lucas, "here, Dean. I'm here."
And then Dean blinked, and nodded once.
* * *
And Dean was glad for the water on his face.
He couldn't tell if he was crying or not, but he didn't really want to know.
Sam.....
Yeah, really didn't want to know.