Thanks so much to all the readers, and wonderful people who comment. Many thanks to Mizpah and Maygin for their hard work as betas!

Laura

I'm a runaway train on a broken track

I'm the ticker on the bomb that you can't turn back

This time, that's right I got away with it all and I'm still alive…"Alive" by Meat Loaf

"SSAAAUUMMMM!"

Scrabbling awake, rolling off the table Sam nearly knocked himself out on the bench seat. He landed on hands and knees on the ground, scraping his palms and arms on the way down.

"Christ Almighty Dean! What the hell…?" Never, ever had Sam heard his brother shriek his name, or anything else, like that. Attention briefly drawn to Valkyrie standing against the car, snarling, barking at the lake. Sam's head whipped around in the direction she faced. He frowned at her, interest drawn back to the lake when he heard splashing. Staring at Dean for a second or two before deciding he was going to kill his brother, he merely had to figure out the most annoying way to do it. "Dean, you asshole, if this is one of your stupid jokes about Nessie or Champ or some such crap." Arms held out from his sides, Sam shouted at Dean splashing around in the water. "You freaking moron you'll freeze in there, and I don't care!" Mumbling under his breath Sam crossed the distance, anger fueling his strides, lengthening them until he was almost running. "I nearly broke my neck, and my arm is all cut up now."

Dean's eyes bulged, his arms wheeled, trying to stay afloat, he went under the water with such force a small vortex was left in his wake. Sam froze. He heard his heart pounding, his blood rush through his ears in time with it. He started running at the water's edge. Dean popped up again, struggling to breathe, water blew out his nose, filled his open mouth.

He disappeared under the water.

"Dean?" Sam ran faster. "DEEEAANNNN!! God, Deeeeeeeeaannnn!"

Splashing into the water, he slipped, going completely under when the ground dropped off plunging him into cold, dark water. His jacket hampered his movements, and as he kicked up he struggled out of it, throwing it to the shore. Head bobbing above the water, Sam spun in frantic circles, "DEAN!" It was useless to shout he knew, but didn't care.

Another vortex spread the water a few feet from him. He saw movement, too many feet under the water, nothing more than shadows thrusting through the murk. Sam dove in that direction. He kicked down toward the thrashing, arms ahead; going more than twice his height. When his fingers brushed what he was sure was Dean's head he gave another kick. One hand wound around Dean's chin, his other by some miracle latched onto Dean's arm. Pulling up with everything he had until his hand under Dean's chin slipped down and across his chest.

Dean twisted in his grip, nearly getting away when he swung his arms, lashing out, trying to punch at Sam. Barely able to see his brother's face, Sam saw enough to know, Dean didn't think it was him, was fighting to free himself from someone not Sam. Drowning victims would often panic Sam knew, but this went beyond panic, this was something deeper. Dean's fist hit the side of his head, if they hadn't been underwater at the time the blow would have certainly rendered Sam unconscious.

Not able to wrap his legs around his brother and still kick enough force to lift them to the surface Sam had to make do using only his arms. Wrapping his upper body securely around his fighting sibling Sam's legs pushed and kicked, burning from the effort. His lungs felt ready to explode. He tried shaking his head, getting Dean's attention when to his complete horror Dean opened his mouth, trying to breathe. Clenching Dean tighter to his chest, shaking Dean as hard as he could and not letting go Sam kicked furiously. Something fought him, tried pulling the two of them into the depths of the lake, but Sam squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to look, to do anything but kick his legs as hard as he could. Dean went completely limp.

Without warning cool air assaulted his hair and face, making him shiver. Eyes and mouth popping open at the same time Sam was battered by bright sunlight making him wince, and blessedly sweet fresh air filled his lungs. Squeezing Dean's chest rhythmically, he continued kicking, pushing them along to the shore. Dean's head lolled forward, Sam pulled back until Dean's head was against his shoulder. Flipping over in the water, Sam back paddled to shore.

"Come on man, you're grey, breathe, fight, do something. Dean, don't do this to me. Come on, breathe." Sam didn't stop to wipe his tears away, or to readjust his hold, he kept moving until his feet found purchase in the slick lake bottom. Stumbling the last few feet to dry land, dragging Dean with him, his arms ached from the effort of not only carrying his very solid brother, but keeping up the constant press and release against Dean's chest.

Scrambling up the slight embankment Dean's feet tangled with Sam's and they landed in a confused pile of arms and legs and dripping water on the grass. It was taking far too long to untangle himself from his brother, he needed to start CPR, get the water out of Dean's lungs first. Water out, get the water out, clear his lungs, think, water out…how the HELL to get the water out? Do this, can do this, water out! Flipping Dean off his legs, over on his side Sam pulled Dean to more of a sitting position, then bent him forward. His brother listed to one side. Sam nearly dropped him head first to the ground when Dean's entire body spasmed, he gagged, and water spewed from his mouth and nose. He lurched so violently Sam thought it might just come out Dean's ears too.

Sam almost remembered to breathe when long strands of bile and lake water oozed from Dean's mouth, his hand fluttered to his face, wiped at his nose. Powerful heaving made Dean's back arch, his chest retract into itself then fill almost beyond its limits only to repeat the movement. With each fierce contraction of muscle along Dean's chest, sides, belly more water was gagged and spit to the ground. Dean's hand fell flat against Sam's thigh, pushing against it so he could straighten more.

Words wheezed out of Dean's throat, but Sam couldn't understand them for at least a full minute. "Dean." Sam jostled him, which only really succeeded in causing more water to be vomited up and out. The grey of Dean's skin was slowly being chased away by a more pink color.

"Y-you ookay Sssammmy?"

"Am I…?" Sam slapped the back of Dean's head. "You nearly freaking drown, you turn grey, stop breathing and hocker up half the lake and you ask if I am ok? Yeah, dude, I'm just goddamn dandy." His other arm wound around Dean's middle. His brother's fist clenched against his thigh.

More lake water was ejected, Dean coughed. His voice came out clearer if not stronger. "Burning." Water dripped from Dean's nose, he coughed and snorted, clearing more away. Sam pulled Dean tighter against him, keeping him upright, at least that's what Sam told himself. "You burning."

"No, you drowning! You turned grey! You weren't breathing!" Sam realized shouting in Dean's ear probably wasn't going to help any. Free hand clenching Dean's bicep Sam gripped harder.

Twisting away from Sam or trying to, Dean pushed against trembling hands, righting himself further. Sam's reaction was immediate. His grip around Dean's middle tightened again, his arm shook from the effort.

"Is ok." Dean was trying to placate Sam who wasn't going to fall for it this time. Having watched his brother nearly drown in front of him, seeing Dean grey and too still, not breathing had completely shattered Sam's defenses.

"Not ok!" Sam shouted some more, and would keep on doing so until Dean got the message through his thick skull. "You weren't breathing. YOU WERE GREY!"

Pushing against Sam's arm around his waist which only resulted in Sam's grip tightening Dean wheezed out, "Sam, let go."

"No, Dean, you were grey! You weren't breathing."

Dean sighed and sagged a bit in Sam's grip. "Sammy, too tight, can't breath. I'm not grey now, but I will be again in a few minutes if you don't ease up." Leaning to one side Dean heaved up more water.

"Sorry." Sam mumbled, loosening but not releasing his hold. "You tried to take breaths when you were ten feet underwater." The words stuttered from his mouth in a rush. Dean twisted far enough to look at him. Sympathy crept across his brother's face, mingled with a bit of annoyance.

Pointing to a spot near the picnic table Dean took a few deep breaths before speaking. "You were tied to a stake, on some kind of pyre, being lit on fire."

"Huh? No. That's why you decided to drown?"

"I didn't decide to Sam." Dean gently eased Sam's arm away another fraction of an inch, but let the fingers clamped around his arm stay. Obviously Dean was going to pick his battles this time, probably deciding giving into Sam was easier than having his own way or prying Sam loose. "I was sitting on the bank, got drowsy from the warm sun, and the next thing I know I'm in the middle of the lake, being shoved under and you're being turned into a human torch."

Sam's forehead dropped to Dean's shoulder. "I was on the table, sleeping, and I heard you scream at me. I thought you were joking. I almost didn't do anything cause I thought you were playing a joke, and you could have…You swim better than most Olympic racers, than most fish…I barely found you in the water…" Shuddering breaths quieted a fraction when he felt Dean's hand against his head, ruffling his hair for a few seconds.

"Not that I'd ever do anything like that." Another deep breath and then a chuckle. "It's ok Sammy."

Sam couldn't see Dean's smirk, but he felt it. Nervous tension bled off him in the form a short laugh. "Was it them?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was them. Something kept grabbing at me under the water, I tried fighting it. For a few minutes I thought I was at the surface, that's when I tried to take a breath, but then couldn't."

"That was me. I couldn't see too well, but I don't think you knew it was me."

Dean's hand slipped to Sam's arm, squeezing, trying to be reassuring. "Sammy, it's—"

"So help me Dean, if you even think of saying, 'it's ok' again I'll drag you back to the water and hold you under myself until you change your mind!" His temper flaring out of control Sam opted for shouting again. Some days that seemed the only way to make a point with his pig-headed big brother.

Twisting to look Sam full in the face, Dean blinked at him for a few seconds, expression totally unreadable. Sam didn't know what to expect, Dean was like the damn ocean. Don't turn your back on it or piss it off or talk back to it, because it could flood straight over your ass. Or smack you in the side of the head. "You'll….?" Dean's words were abruptly cut off when he burst into laughter, deep from his belly, side-splitting laughter. That turned, almost at once to more coughing, which led to more heaving. The whole process doubled him over, arms wrapped over his stomach, and laughing turned to some odd snorting/snuffling noise.

It was funny.

Despite his commanding them not to, Sam's lips twitched up. He smiled. When Dean listed to one side, gasping for air and not able to get any from a fresh round of very un-macho giggles Sam started laughing too.

Pressing one palm against Sam's shoulder, Dean pushed to his feet, wiping tears from his eyes with his other hand. "Awww Sammy, some days your logic is a thing of wonder." Sam had two choices, let go of Dean, or get up with him. Sam stood up, and when Dean stepped away he literally lunged at him. Dean turned, hands on Sam's shoulders, "Sam…" His voice was rough and wet sounding.

"You weren't breathing, you were grey." Sam choked over the words. "You stopped breathing." Fingers gripped Dean's arm so tightly it made them ache.

Taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly, a few short, raspy coughs that expelled small water droplets Dean looked at him, nodded and gave Sam's shoulder another squeeze. "I'm breathing now. Blowing water out too, but breathing fine." His hand moved to the side of Sam's neck, patting lightly. It felt good, felt reassuring. How was it Sam wondered, Dean stops breathing, nearly drowns and yet it's Sam who gets the comfort? If it kept Dean safe and close he was going to go with it.

Sam offered his brother a small smile, a tiny nod and resorted to the dirtiest trick he had. Biting his lower lip just a bit Sam put on the most pleading, saddest look he could muster, let his arms drop to his sides and stood there, slouched a fraction. "Ok." He trembled the one word out on a shaky breath, eyes watering up.

Dean's eyes narrowed, one hand raised to pinch the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, he heaved a sigh as his shoulders sagged for the briefest instant. Reaching out he took hold of Sam's shirt near his shoulder. Scanning the area, he pulled Sam along when he moved toward the car, "Where's Valkyrie?"

Slamming to a stop, grabbing Dean's arm, "I forgot! She was growling and barking at the lake, just like she was at me the other night." Twisting as far as he could without letting go his new grip on his brother, Sam scanned the area, looking for their dog. Dean's actions mirrored his own.

"Valkyrie!" They shouted together.

A muffled woof made them both turn to the lake shore. Sam's jacket still where it landed, moved and rustled, at first of its own volition. Another woof, and Valkyrie's head popped out from under the faded denim material. She stood, taking the jacket with her, tail wagging tentatively at first, escalating into full all out body wag. Galloping at them, the jacket dragged and fell to the ground after a few feet, she jumped first against Dean, then small feet patted Sam's legs. Running circles around them, she stopped every few seconds to spin, dart in with a lick to their hands only to bounce side to side some more.

Dean nudged Sam's side, dipped his chin at Valkyrie. "Sam, she can sense, or smell or see it...them…whatever this is. Why didn't we get it before? She knows."

Realization of what Dean was implying hit Sam, making him grin like an idiot. "Well, she is our dog."

"Guess she's been paying attention all these months. Huh, chicky, you know how to join the team, don't ya?"

Valkyrie sat up, eyes bright and smiling, she woofed again.

"We're going to the McCreedy property tomorrow." It wasn't a question. Sam was looking down at the dresser. Dean knew it scared Sam, it scared him too, but they had to go. He wasn't about to let Sam see how much it scared him. That would do the kid no good.

Dean had only been able to sit in the car a few more hours before agreeing to stop for a motel even though it was early evening. Still nauseous from sucking down a few gallons too many of lake water, sides aching from the heaving and maybe a little from Sam yanking on him, Dean was too tired to even ride and let Sam drive. It didn't take much coaxing from Sam to stop early. Dean told himself it was to make Sam feel better. He didn't argue when Sam pulled into a motel announcing they were getting a room.

"Yeah, Sam we have to take another look around. We'll go together it'll…" Dean stopped and grinned, catching Sam turning his head just a fraction, the corners of his mouth curling up for an instant. "Nothing will happen, we'll be fine."

Months of hard work, and Dean feared a good bit of it had been undone, chased away by Sam having to watch him flounder in the water. More to the point of Sam spending a few minutes watching him not breathe followed by a few hours of watching him hack up a small lake. Any amount of security Dean had managed to reinstall in Sam washed away with the water expelled from Dean's lungs. This time Dean worried it was something here to stay. Before leaving the lake Dean had sat on the picnic bench for a minute, to catch his breath. Sam sat beside him, so close that for a few seconds Dean thought he was going to have Sam in his lap. The poor kid had been shaken beyond his limits this time. Their attackers knew what buttons to push, and stomped on Sam's, driven him to the point of sheer desperation, rendered him defenseless.

Fear for himself Sam could and would recover from. Fear for Dean, that he wasn't so sure about. Fear of Dean was what Dean worried about the most. Sam still flinched if Dean moved to fast. He tried covering it up, but Dean saw just the same. If he lost Sam's trust Dean wasn't sure that was something he'd ever recover from. At no point in Sam's life had he ever not trusted Dean, and that was something Dean treasured, was proud of, depended on. He couldn't let that trust be lost, not now, not ever.

Grabbing clean clothes, deciding he'd check to see if the motel had a laundry room a bit later, Dean headed for the bathroom. He needed a shower. He needed five minutes of alone.

"Where you going?"

Dean stopped, turned, surprised. "To take a shower Sam."

"Oh." Sam looked back down at the dresser, probably didn't notice Dean frowning.

"You ok?"

"Yeah…I'm…you stopped breathing."

"I know Sammy, but I'm breathing fine now, you got me breathing again."

Sam eyes lifted, he stood looking at Dean. Not knowing exactly what to do or say, not sure if there was anything that would make his brother feel better, quell his fears, Dean offered Sam a lopsided grin. "I'll be ten minutes, and I'll try not to inhale any water."

The sour look that spread across Sam's face made Dean's stomach drop. His damn big, smart ass mouth. It amazed him sometimes how Sam could go from vulnerable child to petulant teenager to bullheaded, determined young man in a matter of seconds. Dean wasn't quite sure which one he faced now, but it didn't really matter, they were all his brother, all Sam, all his responsibility. Dean came to see many years ago that responsibility went far beyond keeping Sam alive and safe, or making sure he had clothes and food. It went straight into dealing with crap like this, more exactly finding some way to cope while letting Sam deal with it and find his own happy ground. But it was a two way street now, had been since before Sam's kidnap. As much as Dean struggled to deal with Sam's issues, Sam struggled to cope with Dean's. Somewhere along the way in the past few years Dean had become Sam's responsibility. Right now it was a struggle for them both. Dean had buttons being stomped on too.

Letting it go for now, Dean really just wanted a shower. He stepped into the bathroom, turning on the water to warm up, not paying much attention to the movements in the outer room. Turning when he heard something closer Dean started a bit when Sam sat on the edge of the toilet, looking everywhere but at him. Valkyrie apparently decided this was grand fun, padded after Sam, settling between his calves, head propped on one knee, tail thumping.

The bathroom was really too small for this.

"Sam you can't sit in here and watch me take a shower."

"I'm not watching you do anything." Sam groused, glaring defiantly at the towel rack.

"Sammy…no. I can shower all on my own, been doing it for years." Grabbing Sam under one arm, Dean pulled up. "Out. Both of you."

Jerking away, Sam refused to be moved. "Dean you weren't breathing. You turned grey, and you weren't breathing." Defiant glare now aimed at the medicine cabinet.

Now Dean was faced with one very worried, freaked out little brother who was working doubly hard to hold up his end of this responsibility deal. Sam merely didn't have as much practice as Dean.

"There's not enough water in there to hurt me. And you're not sitting in here while I shower. I promise I'll yell if I need you." He looked down at the dog, "You too." Resting his palms on Sam's shoulders, "Sammy, I'll be here."

The reminder seemed to sink in. Sam looked around the small room, then up at Dean. Nodding a fraction, Sam left, Dean heard him pull a chair around so he could sit near the door. He pointed out at the room, jerked his head in that direction and stared down Valkyrie. He swore the dog sighed before leaving him to his shower. Giving the door a gentle shove, it swung closed. He barely moved an inch when Sam opened the door giving Dean a look that should have put him down in the bedrock.

Ignoring it Dean looked down at his feet, bit back a smile and sighed. Pick your battles, Winchester. Nope, this wasn't going to go away anytime soon. But at least Dean got his shower in relative peace, and solitude. When he left the bathroom, after the promised ten minutes, Sam still sat in his chair, keeping up his vigil, glaring hatefully at the bathroom door. Dean pretended not to notice. He'd cleared the larger hurdle, and figured when Sam stopped sitting boring holes with his eyes into bathroom doors, Dean would start closing them fully again. Being responsible for someone he'd learned sometimes meant letting them have what they needed, and work through issues in their own way and time. Sam needed to know Dean was still breathing and wouldn't stop. That was ok, more than ok. It was good to have someone who cared if you kept breathing.

Sam held his phone. Apparently he'd also been making calls. "I talked to Forge while you were…while I was…waiting."

"And?" Dean dug around in his duffel for clean clothes. "We need to do laundry."

"Yeah." Sam stood, moving the chair back to where it had been by the table. "He said they…Redding and Joey McCreedy, he made sure they were cremated. He seemed to know it was important." He rubbed his forehead. "I know you didn't want to call him, but everywhere else I tried I was told to contact the detective leading the case, so I didn't have much choice."

Dean shrugged, "I said I wasn't wild about the idea, not that it wouldn't be necessary. Besides, I don't think he'll bother us unless we give him a reason to." He stopped for a minute, making sure he had Sam's complete attention. "Sam I know how you feel. Before I went under the water I watched you burn."

"It's not the same thing." Sam turned on him, shouting. "You didn't have to put the flames out. When it was over, it was over, there wasn't anything wrong with me. It wasn't real. You really were drowning, really were grey and not breathing. I thought you were messing with me, and I nearly didn't do anything and you weren't breathing."

So that was it, now Dean was beginning to see more of the issue. Sam felt he'd let his brother down in some way. "No. No Sammy I didn't and I'm sorry, I am sorry that you did." What Dean wouldn't give to take those minutes back, to make it so Sam never had to experience that, see that. But he couldn't. There was nothing else he could think to say to ease his brother's guilt or fear. "Sam, it's the kind of stupid joke I would have pulled. You figured it out in time. You didn't do anything wrong Sam."

Sam gave him another look, but not as sour as earlier. He was rubbing his forehead again. Dean recognized the warning signs and was across the room to his brother even as Sam's shoulders hunched, his expression pinched with pain, Sam staggered back strangled gasp forced from between clamped tight jaws. "Dean." Doubling over, his name was little more than a whisper from Sam. His eyes took on the all too familiar vacant stare.

"Whoa, whoa, I gotcha." Grabbing Sam by the shoulders, steering him to the chair Dean gently lowered his sibling until he sat. Sam's fingers reached out as they had so many times before, for so many reasons. Sam told him not once in his life did he ever think Dean wouldn't be there to grab onto. Hands fisting in Dean's shirt Sam tilted forward slightly, rasping pained noises every few seconds. "Take it easy, I'm here." Dean rested one palm on Sam's head applying gentle pressure until Sam's forehead pressed to his shoulder. There wasn't much more Dean could do. All he could do now was wait for the vision to pass and for Sam to tell him what it was.