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.

"Ready, John!" Bobby called, sticking his head out of the bathroom door. "Need some help gettin' him in here?"

"Might be a good idea. I don't want to risk hurtin' him more. Sam, bring the first aid kit into the bathroom for me, will ya?"

"Yes, sir… But why…?"

"Don't worry about that. Just do it."

Sam bit his tongue and did as he was told. He was really getting sick of his father barking out orders without sharing his reasoning behind them though. At some point, he wasn't going to stand for it anymore. At some point, he'd be living his own life, with his own rules. But right now, his brother's life was at stake and he wasn't about to start an argument just for the sake of arguing.

Bobby came over to the end of the bed, ready to help in any way he could.

"Can you grab his legs, Bobby?"

"Sure can."

"Alright. Try not to jostle him too much."

"This ain't my first rodeo, John. On three?"

"On three." John slid in behind his eldest, lifting his torso onto his lap to get the best grip he could. Dean groaned at the movement, but didn't protest otherwise. Both men pulled the blankets off and tossed them to the side. "Alright, one… two… three!"

Both men lifted as one and they made their way into the bathroom. "Still with me, son?" John checked to make sure Dean hadn't passed out on them yet.

"Mhm…"

"Good boy. Almost there, bud."

Bobby and John went right up to the tub, preparing to lower Dean into the barely warm water. Bobby waited for the cue, then quirked an eyebrow when he didn't get it.

"Hang on, Bobby. Dean, I need you to focus for a second, okay?"

"Mmm…"

"We're gonna sit you in the water for a bit to help warm you up. You have to stay calm though, understand? There's too much chance that you'll hurt yourself if you struggle. You're perfectly safe here and we won't let anythin' happen to you, I promise."

John's heart was pounding in his chest. There were so many ways this could all go wrong, and he knew if he had been in Dean's place, the last thing he'd want to do right now is get back into water. He wanted his boy's consent before making him relive his recent nightmare.

"W-wa'er…?"

"Water. Yeah, bud."

"D-don' w-wanna…"

"I know, Dean, but we don't have a choice right now. We have to get your temp back up."

Dean was starting to shake a bit more, but it was hard to tell if the change was due to his temperature rising slightly, or because he was terrified.

"'m ok-kay. Jus'… s-sleep…"

"No, kiddo. Stay with me. It's just for a little while. I need you to cooperate here, Dean. Can you do that for me?"

"'m…K-kay…"

Taking that for acquiescence, John nodded to Bobby and they carefully lowered the boy towards the water. Dean's panicked eyes met his brother's, alerting him to his plight.

"Dad, wait!" Sam shouted, realizing that Dean wasn't actually agreeing. His brother just wasn't capable of saying full sentences anymore. He was trying to say that he was okay and didn't want to be put anywhere near the water.

But it was too late. The second his waist was submerged, Dean's strength came back to a certain degree, brought on by his survival instincts and a deep-seated fear of drowning again. He lashed out, coming very close to giving his father a black eye but John ducked just in time.

"Dean! Easy!" the man shouted desperately, trying to get a grip on his son's flailing limbs before the boy connected with something hard and did permanent damage to himself.

Bobby, who had yet to release Dean's legs, clung on tighter, pinning his ankles to the edge of the tub. John grabbed Dean's forearms, holding them above his son's head so it would be harder for him to struggle. Dean's back arched painfully as he did whatever he could to escape the confining water.

"Dean, listen to me! Dean? Dean! Damn it… Sam!" John knew what Dean really needed to feel safe right now, and it wasn't to have orders shouted at him. He needed his little brother. "Sam, talk to him. Get him to calm down!"

Sam pushed his father aside, taking hold of his brother's wrists gently as he knelt by the side of the tub. "Dean? You're safe, big brother. Look at me, man… Please."

He kept up a soft litany long enough for John to raid the first aid kit he had requested for the worst case scenario, fill a syringe with a mild sedative, and slip back to the side of the tub.

"S-S'mmy…?" Dean whispered, confusion crossing his face again as he tried to figure out where he was. He could have sworn he was back in the ocean, being dragged down under the water by the Rusalka again… He had no idea there were tears running down his cheeks.

John took hold of his son's left arm, freeing up one of Sam's hands which the boy redirected to Dean's chin, turning it so his big brother was looking straight at him.

Dean's wide, green eyes met Sam's. "D-don' le' her, S'm…" he forced out in a desperate whisper.

"I've got you, Dean. I won't let her hurt you again. Do you hear me?"

"N-no… Y-you, S'mmy…"

"Me? What about me, Dean?"

"Don' le' her… ge' you… Jus' lemme go…"

"God, Dean… No." Even while completely terrified by the idea of letting the Rusalka get a hold of him again, Dean was willing to surrender himself if it kept his little brother safe. Yet another thing Sam needed to put an end to before he was the cause of Dean's untimely demise. "I got her good, big brother. She's not gonna get you again, I swear."

Sam wiped the tear tracks off of his brother's cheeks, taking care to lightly skim over the bruise that was starting to show on Dean's cheek bone from his father's accidental backhand.

He wished he could go backwards in time and keep his thoughts of freedom to himself instead of letting his brother take the hit for it… literally. As always, Dean put Sam's well-being before his own and protected him in every way he could. It just wasn't fair.

John jabbed the needle into his eldest son's bicep while the teen's attention was directed elsewhere, pressing down the plunger slowly until the drug had been emptied into Dean's system.

Dean gasped at the sharp sting, looking around wildly for the cause of it. For the second time that night, John saw the hurt betrayal in his boy's eyes and it broke his heart.

"It won't knock you out, Dean," he felt the need to justify his actions. "Just take the edge off a bit, okay? I know you're confused, son, but you need to relax. No one is gonna hurt you here."

John knelt behind the tub so he could lock his forearm around Dean's chest to keep his son's head above the water now that the boy's muscles were forced into a semi-paralyzed state.

Bobby slowly released Dean's ankles, making sure the fight had gone out of the kid before letting his guard down. He felt ill when he realized that even the slight pressure he had used on the boy had left painful looking bruises circling his ankles. He kept repeating to himself that he didn't have a choice in the matter. The damage would have been far worse had Dean kicked the wall or some other unforgiving object nearby.

He kept Dean's legs out of the water, knowing that the warmth would send the cold blood in his limbs back to his heart which could cause cardiac arrest.

John used his free hand to hold Dean's left arm out of the water as well, leaving the boy's right arm in Sam's care.

Sam released his brother's wrist and opted for intertwining their hands, but it was more so to keep the contact with Dean than to follow the proper procedure for a hypothermic victim.

John cautiously lowered Dean further into the water with his right arm still securely wrapped around Dean's chest, inch by inch, until it was up to the boy's chin. He was trying desperately not to scare his son, but he knew the attempt was futile.

Dean swallowed hard as his heart rate sped up to a painfully fast rate, wishing like hell that he could be back in his bed buried under layers of blankets rather than being forced to endure this water torture, feeling completely helpless again.

"I've got you, buddy," John whispered against the side of Dean's head, giving the boy's chest a gentle squeeze to prove his point. "I know I don't deserve it, but I need you to trust me right now, son."

Seconds later, John felt the last dregs of resistance leave Dean's body and tears prickled behind his own eyes. After everything he had put his son through tonight, the boy still trusted him whole-heartedly. Even in his pained and confused state, Dean did as his father instructed. John honestly didn't know anyone stronger or braver than his eldest son.

"Thank you, Dean." He gently kissed his son's temple, letting his paternal instincts take over momentarily while they all had a moment to rest.

Bobby dropped his eyes to the floor, feeling like he was intruding on the family moment but glad he had been there to witness the more human side of John. There was no doubt John loved his boys more than anything. But sometimes, it took extreme measures for him to show it. It didn't get much more extreme than this night.

The pitifully depressed look of surrender in Dean's eyes broke his little brother's heart. Sam hoped to hell that he would have his cocky, devil-may-care brother back soon, but the twisting in his gut told him Dean might not bounce back this time around as quickly as he usually did.

"Don't leave me, Dean," he whispered so only his brother could hear him.

Dean was exhausted. A human body wasn't meant to deal with this much emotional and physical strain. That, mixed with the drugs now coursing through his system, pushed his adrenaline to the back burner and all the fight left him.

If he slid beneath the surface again right now, he wasn't sure he'd put in the effort to survive. At this point, he left his own life in the hands of his family. All he wanted to do was let the darkness take him so he wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. He couldn't stand the pitying looks he was getting from everyone else in the room. Hunters aren't supposed to be pitied, they're supposed to be feared, trusted, strong…

He was a failure through and through. He let his little brother down when the night began, and let the whole world down less than an hour later. He clearly didn't have what it took to be a hunter. He was pathetic.

Even now, he could clearly see where he was and who was with him, but he couldn't fully push away the anxiety. He was in a bathtub for crying out loud! There was no creature or threat here and deep down, he knew that. That didn't quiet his nerves though. Totally pathetic.

Worst of all, his body wouldn't even allow him to give up. Every time he tried to escape to the blessed darkness, his shaking would increase and he would feel the horrible pins and stabbing needles shoot through his nervous system as his abused muscles spasmed and his skin burned as it began to defrost. Unfortunately, the paralyzing drugs were useless for numbing the pain.

On a particularly harsh spasm, Dean nearly knocked his head into the porcelain tub. But John had tucked a towel there, foreseeing the inevitable tremors.

Dean Winchester was falling apart, and everyone he loved was sitting here, watching it happen and feeling completely helpless as they could do nothing to ease his pain. It was mortifying. When Dean let slip a pitiful whimper, John's supporting arm was the only thing keeping him from trying to drown himself.

"Easy, Dean… Just breathe through it," John coached for what felt like the hundredth time since they had gotten Dean into the tub. He checked his watch and was dismayed to find that it had only been about five minutes so far. Time really drags when you're torturing your children.

TBC

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