Title: What Lies Beneath
Author: Michealangela
Rating: T (for some cursing)
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own these guys. (

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks a lot to everyone who keeps reviewing. I really do love you all!! Well anyways…here you go! Enjoy!

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WHAT LIES BENEATH

--CHAPTER FIVE—

Dean couldn't believe the luck he was having. First he has to hunt some stupid spirit in the middle of friggen nowhere, the he wiped out on his ass after tripping over some damn root, next thing you know Sam had forgot to research exactly which dock was Micheal's, then Dean had successfully ruined a whole box of matches, and to top things off, Sam almost died because that sick bastard tried to drown him. DIED-as in dead, gone, never coming back, ceasing to exist. So when Dean felt something suddenly slip around his neck, an overwhelming sensation of exasperation took precedence. Damn this day!

Dean's heartfelt exasperation was quickly replaced with raw terror as he felt the rope tighten and begin to drag him towards the dock. Hell no. He had just saved Sam from the brink of death. No way in hell was Dean planning on a repeat performance with reversal roles. Besides that, Dean was worried Sam simply didn't have the strength required to perform such a taxing rescue. Dean felt the rope dig into his throat, cutting off all oxygen supplies as well as preventing any form of speech. ..So much for calling for Sam. Dean quickly brought his hands up to the rope, fingers struggling to loosen its overpowering hold. But there was no give, no mercy as the rope continued to drag his body closer and closer to the dock. Dean felt his panic kick up a notch as he realized just how close he was getting to the lake. Twenty feet and counting was way too close for personal comfort. His eyes immediately sought Sam, who remained perched on the beach, taking in his surroundings as he attempted to recover. Dean wanted nothing more than to call out for his brother, to enact communication of any sort to convey his situation. But with the damn rope coiled around his neck that task proved to be nearly impossible. His brother was so close, and yet seemed so far. Dean was going to die. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it…

Dean shot one last look at his brother, pleading to the heavens that Sam would be alright without him there to watch his back. There had been so much that Dean had wanted to tell Sam, so much he still needed to tell him, that he hadn't been given the opportunity too. Dean felt a tear slip effortlessly from his eye. Damn. He was going to miss his geeky little brother. Then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, Dean saw Sam lift his head, eyes searching and connecting almost immediately with his. Premature relief flowed through Dean's body as he conveyed the direness of his situation to Sam. Maybe all hope was not lost…

"DEAN!! HANG ON MAN!!" Dean registered Sam's cry, wanting to laugh out loud. Sam was here, and he was going to save him. Even if it meant going to the ends of the earth and back, one thing was certain. Dean wasn't going to go anywhere soon. It would take more than some pissed off spirit to take him out.

Dean saw Sam attempt to run to the matches, knowing his brother's body was still recovering from its near-death experience in the lake. He willed Sam to move faster as he noticed the blackness beginning to ease its way into his vision as his mental processes began to cloud. The lake was now only five feet from Dean's head, and if Sam didn't hurry, Dean wasn't so sure there would be anything left for his brother to save. Dean clung to consciousness with all his might, not willing to give in to its confines until he was sure Sam had wasted Micheal's sorry ass. Dean merely watched as Sam stood up and began to run towards the dock, a look of hard determination set on his usually soft features. One thing was clear, even in Dean's stupefied, oxygen deprived state: Sam meant business.

Within seconds, Dean felt Sam beside him, as an unforgiving wave of heat passed over his body. Dean closed his eyes, letting a strangled sigh of relief escape from his lips. Sam had done it. Micheal was gone. With that thought, Dean allowed his mind to be lulled into unconsciousness as his mind vaguely registered Sam's muddled voice…"Burn, baby, Burn."

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Sam sat in awe for a few seconds, watching the fire encompass the dock and feeling the heat press against his skin. He did it. Micheal was gone, finally put to rest and Dean was saved. That's when something in Sam's mind kicked his mind into gear… Dean.

Sam scrambled over to his brother, dropping beside his unconscious form. Sam pulled his knife from his boot and began to cut away at the bindings around Dean's neck, being careful not to knick Dean's neck in the process. Sam noted with uneasiness that Dean wasn't breathing, but remained focused on removing the rope. He almost cried out with joy as his knife tore through the last strand of the tattered rope. Sam quickly discarded his knife and bent of Dean's face, listening closely for any signs of respiration and feeling numbly for a pulse on his brother's neck. Sam nearly collapsed when he registered the steady thumping present beneath his fingers, as well as the shallow wheezing noise currently being escaping Dean's mouth. His brother was alive. Sam hadn't failed.

"Dean…hey. C'mon man. Open your eyes… " Sam remained stationary, holding Dean's head in his lap as he slowly lulled him back to consciousness. Sam could feel Dean fighting to regain his consciousness and did all he could to aid him.

"That's it… You can do it. Just open your eyes. You know you want to see my gorgeous face just one more time." Sam bit down on his lower lip as Dean's eyes began to flutter rapidly.

"Ha…yeah…r-right. Don't….wan..na…go…blind." Sam laughed as Dean rasped out a comeback, eyes eventually becoming apparent. Even after nearly dying, Dean still managed to have the last laugh.

"Welcome back to the land of the living. God, I thought I lost you there for a second…" Sam tore his gaze from Dean's, allowing himself a minute to recover from the torrent of emotions currently ravaging through his mind.

"Yeah. Right back at you…" countered Dean. It had been a close call for both of them, and Dean was sure his mind wasn't going to allow that to settle any time soon.

Sam looked up in shock, meeting Dean's warm gaze. Sam had completely forgotten about almost drowning. His mind hadn't registered the event, having been primarily focused on saving Dean. But now, sitting beside his brother, Sam allowed the string of events to come crashing back to him. He realized just how close he had come, just how close he had been to dying. Sam remembered the immense amount of fear and overwhelming grief that had been flowing throughout his entire body as he failed to locate Dean and attempted to fight off Micheal. He could only imagine how Dean must have felt as he rescued him yet again.

"Listen, Dean…I'm sorry. I-" Sam paused as Dean held up his hand to signify him to stop.

"Sammy. Look man. I know you held onto that dock for as long as you could. You fought Micheal with all every ounce of strength in you, even though you knew you would probably die. And I know you tried to get to me as soon as you could, even if you looked like a stumbling drunk in the process. You have NOTHING to be sorry about. Got that?"

Sam nodded, as a lump lodged itself tightly in his throat. Dean took it for what it was worth and continued.

"If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I'm the one who messed up, not you." Dean dropped his head, the full weight of his guilt bearing down on him. Dean had messed up. He had messed up royally and it had almost cost his brother his life. But he couldn't bear to look in Sam's eyes. He had lost his little brother's trust and that was only fair. Sam had every right not to trust him.

"Dean, stop. You're being ridiculous. If you hadn't been there to pull my ass out of that water, I wouldn't be alive right now. If I hadn't dragged your ass all the way out to the middle of friggen nowhere, none of this would have ever happened…It's not your fault."

Dean looked up, having garnered enough courage to face Sam. "It is, Sam. It is my fault. Okay, yeah. So you were the one to drag us all the way out to this hell hole, but that doesn't give any excuse for me to slack off. I messed up and it nearly cost you your life. I'm the idiot who left you on that dock without any means of self defense. That was ME! Not you! I mean, when I heard you scream my name, I dunno man. And then I saw the look of complete defeat you had when you went under and I knew it was all my fault. I should have been there. I should have been there sooner to save you. I was just so wrapped up in hating the world that I took it out on you. And I'm sorry. If you don't trust me anymore, I totally understand. I mean I wouldn't want to trust me either." Dean tore his gaze from Sam's as he felt his eyes begin to water, on the brink of tears. God, he had screwed this one up.

"Dean. Hey. Dean….look at me." Sam waited for Dean to finally meet his determined stare. He needed for Dean to understand, needed to see the look in his brother's eyes. It took a few minutes for Dean to compose himself before he brought his eyes weakly to meet Sam's. Then and only then did Sam continue. "Dean, there is nothing you could ever do that would make me not trust you. NOTHING. You're my brother. It takes more than one little mistake to lose my trust. And it wasn't all your fault, as much as you would like to think it was. I am just as guilty as you, man. I mean, hell!--I was the idiot who went out on that dock without a gun, granted I thought you were there, just behind me. But the mistake is still partially mine. What was dad's number one rule? 'Never find yourself unarmed. Be prepared for anything.' I messed up just as much as you. And when I let go, the only thing that was going through my mind was that I failed you. That was the only reason I fought, the only reason I tried to stay alive. Seeing you there, underwater, coming to my rescue, was like seeing a miracle. And yeah, okay. I'll admit that that sounds corny, but it's true. All of it. I would NEVER not trust you. So don't you ever go around thinking that. EVER."

Sam held Dean's gaze, even as he felt a tear slip out of the corner of his eye. His brother could be so STUPID sometimes. Utterly thickheaded. But none of that mattered to Sam. He loved Dean, and although he would never admit to it unless it was a life or death situation, Sam knew that Dean loved him too. He always had, and he always will.

Dean returned Sam's gaze with an equal intensity. Part of him just wanted to reach out and hug his brother and never let go. But the rational, anti-chick flick, part of him just couldn't allow such a display of girly emotions. So he settled for the simplest way to say 'I love you' that he knew how. "Bitch."

Sam grinned as he mustered back his response. "Jerk."

The brothers sat for a few more minutes in comfortable silence, watching the dock as it burned to ashes. There was an unsaid bond that was strengthened as Sam and Dean remained seated there beside the lake, each focusing on their own thoughts. Eventually, after all remnants of the dock had completely disintegrated, they decided it was best that they should head back. Dean rose first, offering a hand to help Sam up. Sam took the offered hand, and together, they began the "pretty short hike" back to the car. The brothers continued to banter each other the entire trip back to the Impala.

Once they entered the clearing, Dean let out a sigh. There, parked all the way across the entire parking lot, was his baby. And there wasn't a scratch on her. "Home, sweet home."

"Yeah well good old home sweet home might not be so far away if someone hadn't insisted on parking so god damn far away. But oh wait! That's right. We couldn't dare bother to scratch her 'fine exterior paint job', now could we?" Sam grinned as he ducked, cunningly avoiding a playful punch to the arm thrown his way by Dean. When it came down to it, Sam was just as grateful to see the Impala as Dean.

"Yeah well if you don't shut your cakehole, this home sweet home will be leaving your ungrateful ass out here to walk. You think she's far away now, you just wait…"

As they reached the car, Dean took the gear from his brother and unlocked the trunk, throwing it haphazardly in. He would sort it out later. Right now, Dean would give anything for a hot shower and some good old fashioned shut eye. He heard Sam shut the passenger door and decidedly shut the trunk, making his way to the driver's side and hopping in. He went to insert the key when he suddenly stopped himself, noticing the mischievous grin plastered clearly on Sam's face. 'What the hell?' thought Dean.

"Man I don't know why you're all the sudden so happy. I mean I know I am might fine to look at, but you know I don't swing that way. Sorry about your luck there, kiddo."

Sam's grin remained strong, not even wavering for a comeback. Dean decidedly ignored it; mind focused on the prospect of the nice warm motel bed that was currently waiting for him. He reinserted the key, and turned it, firing up the engine. He shifted and pulled out of the tiny parking lot. Dean glanced over at Sam, noticing the unwavering smirk. After trying to come up with a source for what the hell could be so funny, he decided that maybe Sam's brain was still recovering from losing oxygen.

"Damn, it's quiet in here. How about some tunes? What do you say, Sammy? You ready for some good old classic rock?"

Sam's grin faltered a little bit, diminishing into a slight smile. "Sure. Sounds great. Be my guest."

Dean reached over to the glove box, pulling the handle and opening the compartment. He reached inside and pulled out the shoebox full of his beloved cassette tapes. 'Mullet rock, my ass,' he thought as he opened the lid. Suddenly, the sound of rapid gunshots filled the interior of the Impala as tiny pellets began to rain on Dean's face and arms.

"WHAT THE HELL!!" Dean could hear Sam's laughter through all the commotion. Apparently, this was Sam's idea of a good time. God, he was going to strangle that kid! Here he was, attempting to drive his baby down the road when for all they know; the shoebox full of cassettes erupts in explosions. This could have been a death threat, an attempt at their lives, and here Sam was, laughing his head off. Then, something caught Dean's eye. He reached inside the still chaotic shoebox to pull out an empty box labeled clearly "Exploding Snaps". That sneaky little son of a bitch…

"SAM!!!"

The end…. =)

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A/N: Haha…I had to end on a happy note. Sorry this took so long to update and publish. Thank you to all who supported me along the way. I hope you enjoyed the story. It's only my first one, although I am hoping to write more. I hope I didn't mess up the whole angsty scene too much. I tried my best. Please let me know what you think!

Reviews are love!! Thanks again!