"Shit! Dean!" Sam frantically searched the churning dark water for any sign of his brother. Agonizing seconds went by, and Sam was just rushing forward, determined to dive in, when Dean exploded to the surface.

"Dean!" Sam watched as his brother sputtered for a moment before turning toward the sound of his voice.

Between bouts of hacking and coughing, Dean managed a gravelly, "I'm okay." After treading water for a minute to regain his equilibrium, he began to swim for shore. Once there, Dean gratefully grabbed Sam's offered hand and hauled himself out of the water with his brother's assistance. On dry land, he stood hunched over, hands resting on his knees as he coughed.

"You sure you're okay?"

Nodding, Dean took a deep breath and spat on the ground. "Yeah. Yeah, just swallowed some tasty lake water." A sudden breeze sprang up from nowhere and Dean shivered. "Damn, that water's cold." Having regained his breath, he straightened. Without a second thought, he tugged his sodden green t-shirt off to wring out some of the excess water.

"What the hell? Dean, what happened?"

"What?" The elder Winchester bent over and began pulling off his boots and socks.

"Those cuts on your stomach."

Damn, I forgot about those.

"Those? Those are just scratches."

"Cuts, scratches, welts—whatever—the point is, they weren't there last night when I asked you to lift your shirt."

"It's nothing, Sam, don't worry about it. It's not like it's a symbol or word."

Undeterred, Sam reached out, grabbed Dean's wrist, and repeated, "What happened?"

Dean broke his brother's hold and finished pulling his wet t-shirt over his head. When he was done, he glanced at Sam hoping he'd let it go; however, the look on Sam's face said he'd wouldn't—not without some sort of answer.

"I just had a dream last night, that's all."

"Dreams don't leave actual wounds, Dean."

Dean muttered, "So maybe I did it to myself by accident."

"Right," scoffed Sam, "by accident."

Swinging around in agitation, Dean walked away and muttered, "Just drop it."

Sam was about to pursue the subject further, when a seductively soft female voice suddenly called out a long, drawn out, "Hello!"

The two brothers turned toward the call and were surprised to see a pretty young blonde, dressed in brown short shorts and a super tight pink tank top, emerge from the surrounding trees. Seconds later, a carbon copy of the first girl followed.

Sweet! Twins! Dean flashed his widest and brightest smile. "Well, hello . . ."

Sam was used to his brother being a veritable chick magnet, but he was still surprised to see both women make a beeline to Dean's side. His brother seemed a bit shocked as well. Surprise gave way to pleasure in a heartbeat.

"We were just out hiking and heard you talking," the first blonde, who was slightly taller than her twin, cooed. "My name is Lamia. She's Lil."

Still smiling, Dean said, "I'm Dean. And he's . . . uh . . . Sam." He made a vague hand gesture toward his brother, never taking his eyes off of Lamia.

When the twins spared a split second glance in his direction, Sam gave a halfhearted wave in greeting. A vague prick of unease danced across the back of his neck.

The women turned their full attention back to Dean and moved even closer, their bodies now pressing tight on either side of him. Sam watched as Lamia and Lil giggled and fawned over his brother while running their fingers over his arms and neck. The one called Lil even boldly slid her hand under his brother's shirt. Dean stood stock still, wide smile locked in place, and let the women do as they pleased. It was then that alarm bells started to toll in Sam's head. Sure Dean loved attention from hot women, but this was just plain odd. His unease grew.

"Hey, Dean," he called, "we should probably get going."

His brother didn't acknowledge his statement in any way.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, a more demanding tone to his voice.

Sam's loud yell finally penetrated the low buzzing and thrumming filling Dean's head. He roused himself enough to look away from the gorgeous blonde in front of him and turn his head. "Sam?"

Sam didn't like the glazed look in the older man's eyes. "Dean, we need to leave. Now."

"Um . . . yeah," the whispery whining in his head grew louder and more piercing, "I mean, no. No, I don't want to leave." The girls' fingers continued to glide over his skin, feeling both hot and cold at the same time, and left goose bumps in their wake.

"Dean, come on!" He stepped toward his brother, intent on pulling him away from the girls.

Lamia was at the taller brother's side in an instant.

"C'mon, Sam," she sing-songed, "he just wants to have a little fun." Lamia smiled, and Sam felt a low hum crawl through his mind. "Don't be such a spoilsport." She reached out and trailed a blazing finger down the younger Winchester's cheek.

"Get away fr—"

A small, almost transparent, flare of green fire glowed in Lil's eyes. "Ssshh. Quiet now."

A soft gray mist filled Sam's mind and his concerns tumbled away like so much debris tossing on the wind.

(SN) (SN) (SN)

Something gritty was pressing into his cheek and tickling his nose, bringing on a tremendous sneeze. Rubbing the back of his hand across his nose, Sam pushed himself into a sitting position and groaned at the stiffness in his limbs. It took him a second to realize that the grit he was feeling was sand. He hastily wiped it away.

Why am I laying facedown in sand?

Awareness dawned in an instant and Sam scrambled to his feet, repeatedly calling his brother's name. He scanned the area quickly. Silence reigned and nothing moved except the wind-tossed leaves.

"DEAN?"

Other than his shoes and socks, which sat forlornly on the ground where he'd left them, there was no sign of the elder hunter.

The twins were gone.

And so was Dean.

TBC . . .