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 hitched when he felt the knife pierce his skin. He hoped to hell he wouldn't get any supernatural blood diseases from the mixing of their DNA. Unfortunately at this point, that was the least of his problems because Sarina had started to sing.

"Damn it… Cover your ears, John!" Bobby barked as he was forced to drop the guns once again in order to try and keep her voice from having an effect on him. John mirrored him instinctively, but the effort was fruitless. She was just too powerful.

Both men stood slowly like drones and made their way to Sarina's side, desperate to win her approval. In her soft voice, Bobby heard the off-tune humming of his wife, Karen. For John, it was Mary's beautiful rendition of "Hey Jude" that she sang to Dean when he couldn't sleep.

Then the voice was telling the men that Dean was causing himself harm and needed to be restrained before he hurt himself more. Naturally, they were all too eager to protect the boy.

Bobby pinned Dean's right arm up by his head, placing his other hand comfortingly on the kid's shoulder. John held Dean's left hand in the same way, using his right to stroke through Dean's hair.

"Take it easy, kiddo. It's gonna be alright," John stated in a soothing voice to calm his boy.

"Dad, wait! No! Guys, what are you doin'?! Let go of me! Bobby, please!" Dean shouted, trying to break their grips and snap them out of their trances.

"Just relax, son. We won't let anythin' happen to ya." Bobby squeezed his shoulder gently and smiled down at Dean.

"That's more like it!" Sarina practically squealed. "A little teamwork can go a long way, boys. Now, to business!"

"Please, don't make them do this! I'll cooperate, I swear! Just let them go!" Dean begged, knowing how devastated the men would be once they came back to their senses and realized what they had done.

"Sorry, baby, but you had your chance to play fairly. Besides, stabbing a girl in the heart kind of hurts her feelings. You're all out of bargaining chips, and I'm all out of patience."

Her knee slipped in between Dean's thighs mid struggle and she slowly rocked against him, varying the pressure.

Dean was shaking now. It seemed his plan to distract her only made things worse for everyone involved. If she was going to successfully feed off of him, he didn't want to survive it. He wasn't going to be another victim, used and discarded. If he had been the only one to know about it, he could have dealt with taking the horrible secret to his grave. But to have everyone he loves witness it? Hell, participate in it? That he couldn't bear.

Try as he might to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach, there was no denying that her skills were having an effect on him. This had to be the most humiliating thing he's ever endured.

She was kissing across his chest again and running her hands over his abdomen, moving them lower by the second.

"It's all gonna be okay, bud." John winked down at him as Dean looked into his father's eyes, pleading silently for help. John's only response was to pat Dean on the head.

That was it then. No more help to be had. As her hand slid back towards his boxers, he was unable to thwart her. He squeezed his eyes shut, a lone tear falling past his temple, and he clenched his jaw tightly.

When her cold, slimy fingers found their mark, she let out an appreciative groan and Dean mentally checked out of the building.

"That's it, handsome. Don't fight it…"

Sarina was already drawing energy from his forced aroused state and Dean felt as though he were sinking through the sand into oblivion. His head was swimming and his vision was darkening. He wouldn't fight the darkness this time. In fact, he welcomed it with open arms. He surrendered.

He had retreated so far into his own mind that he almost didn't hear the gunshot. He did, however, feel the weight on his hips lurch sideways before disappearing completely. Dean was so lethargic and weak now that he was barely conscious, but he managed to force his eyes open to tiny slits.

He wasn't sure he wanted to see what was happening. He was tempted to just return to his safe place where none of this had ever happened, but as the saying goes… curiosity killed the cat.

At first, his eyes were assaulted by the bright rays of light above him; a stark contrast to the darkness he was pulling himself out of. Dean turned his head sideways, and could have sworn he saw an angel kneeling in the sand a few yards away. A small, moppy-haired angel… holding a gun.

Sammy…?

The little energy Dean was clinging to quickly abandoned him, plunging him fully into the darkness he craved.

**********

Sam had woken from his punch-induced nap to the horror that was taking place before him. Somehow, the evil temptress managed to recruit his father and Bobby, and they had his brother pinned to the ground, completely defenseless.

Fire blazed in Sam's eyes as he shook off the throbbing pain in his head emanating from his left cheekbone. Glancing around, he saw his gun laying a few feet away where John had dropped it earlier.

He slinked across the sand like a jungle cat, taking care not to alert his prey of his presence. Seconds after his fingers found purchase, he sent one of John's special bullets straight through the center of Sarina's forehead. He watched in satisfaction as she froze like time had stopped, then slumped sideways to crumple in the sand before disintegrating into ash and blowing away on the breeze.

Sam might fight and complain that hunting wasn't his destiny, but no one could argue that he was damn good at it, thanks to Dean… Dean, who had taught him to shoot in the first place. Dean, who used what little spending cash they had to reward his little brother with a snack from the motel's vending machine when Sam bullseyed every target…

Dean, who was squinting at him with a confused and disoriented look on his face. Sam finally lowered the gun back to his side, then watched as his brother passed out.

**********

Once the life had fully drained out of Sarina, her spell was broken and John and Bobby came back to their senses.

"Oh god…" Bobby released Dean's wrist immediately and jumped to his feet before scrambling a few feet away and vomiting violently into the surf.

"Dean…?" John whispered as his heart shattered into a million pieces. What had he done? He swore he'd keep his son safe this time around, but he had failed. He reached out a shaky hand and laid it against Dean's throat, praying to whoever was listening that his boy was still alive.

He let out a sob of relief when he felt the thready pulse beneath his fingers. He quickly slid out of his own coat and draped it around his eldest's bare chest, then pulled the boy's limp torso carefully into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I should've just taken you boys and ran when I had the chance." He kissed Dean's spiky hair before leaning his cheek against the side of the boy's head.

**********

Sam dropped the gun to the sand, still in his kneeling position. He wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure this is what it meant to be in shock. He wanted to go to his brother's side, he wanted to push John away and tell him to never go near Dean after the hell he had put him through lately. He wanted to move, but his muscles wouldn't respond.

When Bobby had control of his stomach again, his eyes fell on the guilt-ridden father cradling his unconscious son before floating across the sand to check on the youngest Winchester; the one who had saved them all from a terrible fate.

The boy was frozen stiff, barely even blinking. Bobby silently made his way over to Sam, but the kid didn't seem to notice he was there.

"Sam? You still with us son?" he tried, tentatively.

Finally, Sam managed to turn his head enough to lock tear-stained eyes with the older man. "Why?" he whispered. Just one word had so many different questions behind it; Why did this happen? Why Dean? Why did you help her? Why was I the one that had to pull the trigger? Why do bad things happen to good people?

"I dunno, kid." It was all Bobby could say. No words of comfort that hadn't been said already. No false promises that would backfire on him further down the line. No philosophical wisdom to share when his own mind was blank and filled with buzzing. Okay, so maybe Bobby was a bit in shock too.

Bobby dropped to his knees beside the boy and waited, unsure of what else he should be doing. About a minute later, Sam had his arms wrapped around the man's neck and was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. For now, Sam was willing to overlook his anger at the men, in desperate need to be comforted. Bobby patted him on the back, holding onto the boy for dear life. He didn't ever want to let go.

No one knew how much time had passed while the small group sat there in the sand, but the sun had begun to set and the winds were picking up before any of them had enough strength to make it back to the motel. John carried Dean in his arms, refusing to let anyone else assist.

The whole group was subdued once they were safely back in the room. Nobody spoke as they waited anxiously for Dean to wake up again. John cleaned and rebandaged the wound in the boy's side, then reluctantly poured holy water over the new cut in Dean's neck.

Steam rose quickly as the liquid combined with Sarina's blood and Dean's forehead bunched in pain as his head turned from side to side, trying to escape the acidic burning. However, he remained unconscious through the process.

John removed Dean's boots and switched his jeans for sweatpants again rather than trying to refasten them around his hips.

Without asking for help, Sam quietly cared for his own injury, filling a facecloth with what was left of their ice from earlier and holding it tentatively against his throbbing cheek. He was hoping to control the swelling before it impeded his vision.

All three onlookers sat by Dean's bed anxiously, waiting for him to come back to them. Sam curled up next to his brother's side on the bed, and though he wanted nothing more than to throw a protective arm around Dean and help guide him back to the light, he kept his hands to himself so as not to alarm his brother needlessly.

He wished he could be furious at his father and Bobby for aiding Sarina, but he knew he couldn't. Not after being put under her spell himself and nearly blowing John's head off… twice. He'd never understand how Dean was the only one strong enough to break the trance. In his mind, Dean was strong enough to do anything he set his mind to. Plain and simple. Now if only he chose to wake up…

Bobby studied the floor, wondering if he should even be in that room right now considering what he had been forced to do, but no one had asked him to leave yet. The guilt was overwhelming, and he knew it wouldn't be any easier for the eldest Winchester.

John dropped his face into his hands, wondering how things could have gotten so screwed up so quickly. Why was it always the boys who had to pay the price for his mistakes? He made a vow then and there; once Sam and Dean were old enough to take care of themselves and each other without guidance, he would hit the road to keep them safe. He just prayed that they'd live that long.

TBC

Please review! Sorry this chapter was a bit shorter than usual, but I wasn't sure where to stretch it out! Finally heading towards the end of the story now. I'm guesstimating maybe three chapters left? So if there's anything in particular you'd still like to see, now's the time to say it! Thanks again for your continued support and reviews!