Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Dean's breath had hitched when he felt the searing pain in his side from his father's bullet. The small flair of relief that John had wounded her quickly disappeared when Dean felt himself being yanked backwards into the freezing water before he could catch his breath again.

The second he was fully submerged, his body went into shock. He tried to force his limbs to move so he could claw his way back to the surface again, but could only manage a few feeble swipes through the oppressive water.

The succubus's pale arms latched around his waist and pulled him further into the darkness.

He kicked and clawed at her, trying to break her hold, but this was where she thrived the best. She easily spun him around and grabbed a handful of his t-shirt, pulling him level to her.

She locked her lips onto his, sucking in deep breaths of his life-force. Her motive was no longer revenge now, but survival. She needed his strength to heal herself.

Her other hand moved greedily to the front of his jeans, trying to unbutton them. Since he had broken her spell over him, it was going to take a lot more effort to get what she needed, and she didn't have a lot of time to spare.

His numb fingers tried desperately to thwart her attempts, knocking her hand aside whenever he could find purchase.

She responded by lashing out and hitting him hard in the abs, knocking what little air he had out of his lungs in a painful gasp. He doubled over, losing track of which way was up and which was down as there was nothing but darkness around him now.

He felt her hands attack his jeans again, this time succeeding where they had previously failed.

"Stop squirming, Dean. Just relax…"

He felt her ice cold hand stroking his abdomen lovingly as his shirt was floating freely halfway up his chest. She giggled in delight.

It was the last thing he heard before he blacked out.

**********

John splashed his way into the murky water, casting his eyes about frantically for any sign of his eldest son. Please, please, please…!

The water was so still now that the nearly full moon shone on the surface of it like a reflection. Come on, Dean…

Sam and Bobby stood on the shore nearby, anxiously waiting for something to happen. Sam, who tended to be short on patience, managed to stride a few steps into the water before Bobby could throw a restraining arm around his chest and drag him back onto the sand. The youngest Winchester wasn't going to give in without a fight though.

"Bobby, let me go!" he screamed in anger, furiously trying to break the older man's grip.

"There's nothin' you can do, son. Jus' let your daddy handle it."

"But he's not doing anything! Dean's still in there somewhere. We have to find him!"

"Sam, you could drag the whole damn ocean but we're not gonna find him until she releases him, and she ain't gonna do that till she's good and ready… or dead."

Sam froze against Bobby's chest. "Until she's dead, or until he's dead?"

Bobby didn't have the heart to respond. Sam's knees gave out at Bobby's silent response. The older man eased the boy to the sand and tightened his grip around him for support. "I'm sorry, kid. There's just nothin' we can do right now except wait. You both got her good though. She won't be lastin' much longer."

Neither will Dean… floated ominously through Sam's mind. He tried to keep his eyes on the water, praying to catch a glimpse of his brother, but his eyes were tearing up. Sam had been scared before plenty of times; felt the burning of adrenaline through his veins…

But he had never felt such agony in his heart before. He had never experienced the pain of loss. Sure, he had lost his mother and it made him sad to think about it sometimes, but he never had the chance to actually know her. This time was an altogether different story.

This was his brother, his best friend, his caregiver. Dean raised him while their father was out "on business," making sure he never ran out of food, never went cold, and always had some sort of roof over his head even if it meant Dean had to go without. Dean was everything to him, and this bitch had taken him away. No. Not gonna happen.

"GIVE HIM BACK!" Sam screamed at the top of his lungs, needing to release some of the pain that was building inside of him before he exploded.

John turned back towards the shore and his heart clenched at the sight of his youngest looking so defeated. This was what he had been trying to prevent all these years. This was why he had trained his boys to fight and to hunt. This wasn't supposed to goddamn happen!

When the boys had been born, John and Mary had a whole different life planned for them. They had put together college funds and enjoyed discussing what they each thought the boys would become when they got older. John always thought Dean would be a mechanic, and since Sam was still so young, his best guess was maybe a teacher since the boy loved school so much.

Everything would change now though. John would have to pawn Sammy off to his friends and other hunters until he had the time to properly train the boy. They would grow further and further apart until Sam unleashed his stubbornness and left, just as Dean had predicted earlier. Dean was the glue that held this small family together, and they needed him back.

Unable to see Sam looking so broken, John turned his eyes back to the black water. He hadn't noticed before, but the water was ice cold and biting into his skin, all the way up to his thighs. It was nothing compared to the numbness he felt inside though.

He refused to walk away. Not when there was a slight chance she might let Dean go when she was finished with him. John would not abandon his son to walk the earth as the same damn thing they hunted. He would recover Dean's body and give him a proper hunter's burial. Dean had proven his worth time and time again. He would have been an excellent hunter, maybe even better than his daddy…

…His daddy, who was the reason Dean had come out here in the first place; the reason he wasn't coming back. Oh god…What have I done?

John's mind was unforgiving, repeating over and over again that this was all his fault, just like Mary's death. He wanted to throw himself into the icy depths to numb the searing pain in his heart, and to stop the accusing voices in his head. But he had to stay strong. He still had one son left, and damn it, he was going to protect him!

Sammy… John turned back to his youngest once again. He should be the one holding and comforting the boy. He should be the one acting as the father. But he didn't know how to be a father anymore. He was the drill sergeant; the Marine. Nevertheless, he should at least be with his youngest right now instead of tempting fate in the icy black waters.

He began dragging his heavy legs through the water which seemed to be grabbing at his ankles and slowing his progress towards the shore.

It was hard to hear over his own sloshing movements and the ringing in his ears that accompanied his shock, but he was sure he heard something break the surface of the water a few feet behind him. She's back! She's taken what she wanted from Dean and now she wants more. Well she ain't gonna get it…

John whirled back around, fury feeding his strength. He wasn't going to let her get away again.

What he saw nearly killed him right then and there. Dean's body was floating along the surface, facedown and unmoving. Oh god…

"Dean!" John threw himself back into the deeper water which instantly sent his muscles into shock but he fought through it. Nothing could keep him from his boy right now. Nothing.

Bobby and Sam both heard John's shout and their heads shot back up to see what was happening. It was too dark for them to see Dean, but they could hear and just barely make out John's frantic movements in the water. Bobby rose to his feet, pulling Sam back up with him.

He was praying to a god he didn't even believe in that the eldest Winchester son was still alive. Sam clung onto his arm, using it to stay on his feet and also readying himself again to break free if necessary to get to his brother.

When John finally reached Dean, he threw an arm out to turn the boy over and felt instantly nauseas. Dean's skin was ice cold. No no no no no…

He pulled the boy's stiff body against his own and began the arduous swim back towards the shore. He was already running out of steam and his limbs were locking up from the cold. "Bobby!"

That was all it took to get the other man into motion. Bobby released Sam, who teetered but stayed upright, and raced to the water's edge, ready to help as soon as the others were within reach.

John pushed Dean up and forward as far as he could and Bobby grabbed the boy under his arms and pulled his limp body to shore. John crawled onto the sand next to them, shaking hard and panting with the effort.

Bobby took over while the other man caught his breath. "Sam! Go get some blankets from the room! Hurry!"

Sam jumped as Bobby's voice broke through the fog that had settled over his mind when his big brother had first disappeared. It took a second to register what the man was saying, but once it did, he tucked Dean's gun into the waistband of his jeans and shot off to the motel as quickly as his legs could carry him.

Bobby tapped the side of Dean's face harshly, hoping to elicit a response. "Jesus, John! He's ice cold!"

"No… sh-shit…" John grumbled through chattering teeth. "Water's g-gotta be t-twenty deg-grees…"

"Come on, kid. Wake up," Bobby instructed as he ran his knuckles down Dean's sternum. Had he been conscious, Dean would probably have been kicking the older man's ass for that painful move, but the boy didn't even twitch.

Bobby flattened his hand out, placing his palm heavily over Dean's heart. There was no rise and fall of his chest. There was barely a faint heartbeat thumping sluggishly beneath his fingers. Dean's lips were already blue. It wasn't looking good.

"He's not breathin', John."

"D-don't you let him d-die on me, B-Bobby. You b-bring him b-back, ya hear?" John struggled his way further up the beach till he was closer to his eldest and old friend. "P-please… I c-can't l-lose him."

"Me either, John. I ain't gonna let that happen."

Bobby tilted Dean's head back and lifted his chin, then placed his ear to the boy's mouth just to be certain there was no air flowing in or out of Dean's lungs. It was confirmed. Dean was not breathing.

"I know you're feelin' weak right now, John, but I need you to give breaths while I do compressions. Can you handle that?"

John nodded and got into position, finally getting some feeling back in his body. He stroked a sandy hand through Dean's short, spiky hair before starting the arduous process of CPR.

He pinched Dean's nose, sealed his mouth over his son's, then blew as much oxygen as he could muster into the boy's lungs, watching to see if his chest would rise and then fall.

It didn't. Something was blocking Dean's airway, and John was pretty sure it was a hell of a lot of water. He looked expectantly at Bobby who immediately prepared to start stomach compressions.

Bobby straddled Dean's legs just above his knees, purposefully ignoring the fact that the boy's jeans were unfastened, then interlaced his fingers with his right hand fisted over his left. He pressed the flat palm of his left hand against Dean's abdomen, between his rib cage and navel, then pressed firmly upwards and in five times.

Dean's body jolted with the force, but the water remained lodged. "Cough it up, kid. Come on…"

After five thrusts, John repeated the two breaths. Still, there was no movement in Dean's chest. "Breathe, damnit!" the terrified father shouted.

Bobby performed five more compressions, adding a bit more pressure this time around and hoping it didn't lead to any internal damage. One problem at a time…

John breathed for his son a third time, desperate for some positive results.

Nothing.

Bobby tightened his own muscles, determined to bring the boy back no matter what the cost. He pushed once, twice…

And water began to slowly trickle out of the side of Dean's mouth.

"We're gettin' there!" Bobby informed John and tried not to get his hopes too high. He pushed three times, four times …

John began slapping the side of Dean's face again. "Please, son. Fight back."

…Five times. Dean's face scrunched up in pain and confusion as water began to rush from his mouth. He wanted to inhale desperately, but the water just kept coming up and he was choking again.

"Turn him on his side!" Bobby barked before sliding off of Dean's legs and helping to lift Dean's right side to position the boy on his left.

John cradled Dean's head in the crook of his arm and held him up just high enough to keep him from breathing in the same puddle he was currently expelling. Dean's hands came up and scrabbled feebly at John's arm in fear.

"It's okay, Dean. I'm right here. I know it hurts. You need to relax and get it all up. Don't fight it."

Dean's chest was heaving with the efforts of throwing the water back up again. He felt so weak and ironically, drained.

Bobby had one hand on the boy's back to keep him balanced and the other against his stomach for support and comfort. He cringed when he felt the turmoil Dean's abdominal muscles were experiencing beneath his hand.

"Easy, kid…"

"D-d'd…?"

"Yeah, it's dad," John responded. "Can you talk to me, kiddo?"

"D-d'd?"

Dean sounded confused and his letters were slurring together. Not good. Both were signs of hypothermia, not to mention the convulsive shaking that was starting up now that he was breathing again and the fact that his scrabbling hands did not find purchase on John's arm. Shit…

Sam came running back across the beach, arms laden down with blankets. He almost jumped for joy when he realized that the men had gotten Dean awake and breathing again.

He skidded to his knees by his brother's side, dropped the blankets onto his lap, and gripped Dean's shaking shoulder to reassure himself that this was really Dean and he was going to be okay. He gasped when he felt how cold his brother's skin was.

His wide eyes met his father's who forced himself to remain emotionless. Now was not the time to panic. "Let's get him inside, Bobby."

TBC

Keep those amazing reviews coming, and I'll do the same with the chapters! Poor Dean isn't out of the woods yet…