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.

Arguing. Dean recognized it at once, though his mind was so foggy, he couldn't understand the words clearly. But he knew the voices. Sam and Dad were at it again…

He needed to get up. He needed to put a stop to their bickering. It was instinct, and to be quite honest, their raised voices were making his head throb.

"What the hell were you thinkin', Sam?! Never go after a supernatural being without a plan! That's how people get hurt! You could have gotten killed! You could have gotten your brother killed!"

Alright, that's it… Come on, Dean. Wake the hell up. You've gotta stop this before someone goes too far…

"Me?! You're the one who told her about us in the first place! You were the one that was going to use Dean as bait! And you're the one who held him down while she…!" Sam broke off, sending a tortured look his brother's way.

No, Sammy. Please don't talk about that right now. I can't.

"…while she 'hurt' him," Sam finished in a lowered voice as though trying to protect Dean from hearing it, even though he thought his brother was still unconscious.

"Well if you had stayed in here like we'd planned, then we could have gotten Dean out safely! But instead, Bobby and I had to dodge your bullets! And I didn't see you puttin' up much resistance to her spell!"

I can't do this right now, guys. Please, just drop it…

Dean wanted to shout, to punch something, to wave a huge flag and yell "I'm right here, people!" but the best he could do was get one finger to twitch. Whatever Sarina did to him left him feeling completely drained and hung over. He didn't even have the strength to open his eyes.

"At least I didn't participate in torturing Dean! If it wasn't for me, you two would still be holdin' him down and lettin' her have her way with him! I killed her, remember?!"

"Yeah, cause I knocked you out first to break her spell!"

Please stop fighting… And then the darkness consumed Dean again.

**********

Dean had no idea how much time had passed before he clawed his way back up to consciousness again, but he knew immediately what had brought him back from the brink.

The arguing had stopped, leaving the room peacefully quiet and seemingly empty, but someone was leaning against Dean's shoulder and small hands were wrapped around his bicep. That someone was crying, and the soft moppy hair against Dean's bare shoulder left no doubt in his mind who that someone was.

Ah, Sammy… Don't cry, kiddo.

"P-please wake up, Dean. I n-need my b-big brother. I'm so s-sorry I messed everythin' up. I d-didn't want you gettin' hurt again. I sh-should've known better though. You never let me outta your s-sight for long. Of course you were g-gonna be the first to come save my ass once you f-figured out I was g-gone… This is all my f-fault."

Don't think like that, little brother. I get why you did it, and I appreciate the thought. 's not your fault, ya hear me?

…Course he doesn't, idiot. You're not actually speakin' out loud. Wake up, damn it!

Dean focused all his energy on trying to move his arm to give Sam a sign that he was with him. It took longer than he had hoped, but eventually he managed to flex his bicep a bit. It wasn't much, but it got Sam's attention. The boy sat up, looking down at his big brother with hopeful eyes.

"Dean? You in there, man?"

'm here, Sammy. Where else would I be?

"Can you open your eyes? Dad said it'll take time for you to regain your energy after a Rusalka attack."

Where is Dad? And Bobby?

"He just went to grab some lunch. Uncle Bobby went with him. I think they just needed to get out for a bit."

How long has it been since…?

"You've got to wake up, man. You've been out for two days now. Things have been pretty ugly without you steppin' in."

Two days?! Holy shit… I'm sorry, Sammy. I've been tryin', I swear. I just feel so damn exhausted…

"Not that I'm blamin' you or anything, cause I'm not! Hell, you're the only one innocent in this whole mess. How did you break her spell, Dean? I tried, but I couldn't do it. The only reason I was able to shoot her was cause Dad clocked me one across the cheek…"

What?! He hit you? Seems to be makin' it a habit these days…

"I guess being unconscious means she can't control you anymore. But you… You were still awake. How did you do it?"

I dunno, man. I guess I just couldn't let anythin' happen to you guys. Knowin' you were in danger gave me strength I never would have had otherwise. It's not like I'm some sort of…

"It's like you're some sort of superhero or somethin'. Big brother always comes to the rescue… Thanks for that, Dean. I hope you can hear me, cause I'm not repeating this while you're conscious enough to kick my ass for this monster chick flick moment."

I can hear ya, dude. But no way in hell am I gonna admit to that when I've got my strength back again. This whole situation is humiliatin' enough!

Sam fell silent for a few minutes, then tried shaking Dean's shoulder gently. "Dean?"

Yeah, Sammy?

"I love you, big brother."

…I love you too. Gotta sleep again, bro. I'll see ya soon, promise.

This time, Sam actually felt his brother's presence leave him. He laid his head back down on Dean's shoulder. He had never felt so alone.

**********

Meanwhile, John and Bobby were heading back to the motel with the bags of take out. Over the past two days, they hadn't said much of anything to each other. What is there to say after you assist in torturing a child you both love? It's not exactly an event you can just shrug off and move past.

They didn't blame each other, but they were both racked with guilt. Until Dean was awake and on the mend, they were stuck in this silent rut of pain. And no one wanted to even entertain the possibility that Dean wouldn't wake up at all. That scenario was simply unacceptable.

Once they reached the motel and gave the coded knock, John set about his daily check of Dean; heart rate, breathing, pupils, bandages, and the occasional sensory or hearing test to see if he was responsive. This time, he tried gripping Dean's hand.

"Hey, buddy. It's dad. If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." John had tried this particular test five times since he had carried Dean into the motel, and each time, the boy didn't so much as twitch.

John was beginning to lose hope. That is, until he felt the slight pressure of Dean's fingers against the back of his hand. The boy had been pulled out of his darkness once again by his father's deep voice.

"Dean? Come on, son. We're all waitin' here for ya. Open your eyes."

I… I can't, dad. I'm sorry.

John waited impatiently for a few tense moments, then sighed in disappointment. He had been so sure that Dean was finally starting to come around. Must have been wishful thinking… He leaned down and kissed Dean's forehead.

"Okay, buddy. We'll do this on your terms. Come back to us when you're ready, ya hear me? We'll be here when ya do."

Dean felt his father pat his shoulder, then heard him stand when the chair scraped across the old floorboards.

Damn it. I've gotta pull myself out of this! They need me! But then they'll start askin' questions… I'm not ready for that yet. Please don't hate me for being selfish on this one, guys…

He retreated once more into painless unconsciousness.

**********

The next time Dean felt himself being pulled to the surface, he seemed a bit stronger. He knew he had the strength to open his eyes if he wanted to, but he chose to stay hidden, not quite ready to face the rest of the world just yet. So he laid there, motionless, and let Bobby's voice float over him.

"Hey, kid. It's been three days now. You can't stay out much longer without feedin' tubes and catheters if that's any incentive to wake your ass up. Look, what happened that day… You know we would've stopped if we could, right? We underestimated her, and for that I am so damn sorry.

"I know you need some alone time to process everythin', but if that's the only reason you're still out of it, I can promise you that we'll give you the space you need until you're ready. But you've gotta wake up, son. We'll get you through this any way we can. Just don't give up, alright?"

Enough is enough, Dean. Time to face the music.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Bobby," he croaked out through rusty vocal cords. He cracked his eyes open and blinked repeatedly as they were met with the bright light of morning.

"Dean? 'bout damn time, boy! How're you feelin'?"

"Tired."

"Understandable. Stay with me, kid. Let me go get John. He's been waitin' anxiously for you to return from your beauty sleep…" Bobby stood quickly and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Dean forced himself up onto his elbows as Bobby returned to the side of his bed. "Bobby, I…" I'm freakin' out, I can't deal with all this shit right now, I can't be around you guys, I'm sorry for everythin'… "I don't blame you. For any of it. So stop beatin' yourself up, alright?"

Bobby's eyes misted over and he swallowed hard, then nodded with a half-hearted smile. He patted Dean's knee affectionately. "Thanks."

Dean nodded back, then cleared his throat. "So, uh… Where's Dad? And Sammy?"

"Oh, right! Gotta get John… They're next door in the room I rented gettin' some shut eye. There just ain't enough room for all of us in here, especially with you hoggin' one of the beds. Be right back. Stay awake, ya hear?"

"'kay."

Dean watched Bobby hustle out of the room, then heard the knock one room down and muffled voices. He groaned as he forced his stiff muscles to respond and levered himself into a sitting position against the headboard.

His entire body protested, but he was done being weak in front of his family. They needed him, and they needed things to get back to normal so they could move past all the crap that had happened. It was time to man up.

Sam was the first through the front door and he launched himself across the room and onto Dean's bed. "I knew you were gonna wake up soon! Are you feelin' better? Do you need anythin'?"

Dean chuckled at his brother's excitement. "Whoa, slow down there, Sammy. Dad gave you coffee, didn't he?"

John stepped into the room before Sam could answer. "Like I'd make that mistake again. Last time he was bouncin' off the walls for two days straight before he crashed. How're ya feelin', Dean?"

"I'm good," he answered automatically. "Just a little stiff… and sore."

"I can imagine. You've been in that bed for three days." Though he said it in an off-handed tone, the haunted look in his eyes proved to Dean just how long those three days were for the others. He dropped his eyes to the sheet pooled at his waist.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't apologize, son. I'm actually amazed you're already awake. We did some research while you were out, and found one other survivor from a Rusalka attack. He didn't wake up for almost two weeks."

"How'd you know it was a Rusalka attack?"

"Well, the article said it was a bad case of pneumonia, but the evidence lines up. He told his wife about the strange enchantress by the beach. Everyone assumed he was just delusional."

"Bet that put a dent in their marriage…"

"Never had the chance. His body was found floating in the water a few days after he woke up. Rusalkas can be persistent bitches."

"I've noticed. Sarina… She's dead, right?"

"Yeah. Sammy took her out."

"Nice one, dude. Looks like you got your first hunt after all, kiddo. Thanks for savin' my ass."

Sam smiled feebly before dropping his eyes to the bed sheets. "You wouldn't have needed the savin' if it wasn't for me. Sorry, Dean."

"I know you were just tryin' to help, man. Water under the bridge."

John moved to the side of his son's bed, trying to come up with the best way to approach the uncomfortable topic. He remembered how his son had reacted last time they tried to talk, and he didn't want to risk putting him through the same panic.

His boy was in a fragile state of mind, and who could blame him? "Look, Dean… I think we should talk about what happened. A lot of bad shit went down that day, and I need you to know that…"

Dean cut him off quickly. "It's okay, dad. I know what happened and I'm good with it. Seriously. There's nothin' to talk about."

"You've gotta understand, the Rusalka's powers of persuasion are…"

"Dad! Just stop, okay? I was there too, remember? I know she can be damn convincing, and I know you and Bobby wouldn't have… done that without her influence. We don't have to have a massive chick flick moment about this, alright? We've all been through worse than havin' a hot chick take advantage of us. You guys are alive and safe… I'm alive and safe… Sarina's dead… All in all, I'd say it was a successful hunt."

John narrowed his eyes, trying to read any deception coming from his eldest. Had he really come to terms with everything that quickly? This boy had to be the most well-adjusted kid on the planet…

"Can we get you anythin' then? Advil? Water? Food?"

Dean squirmed a bit under his father's calculating gaze. He had to get away from everyone before his walls started crumbling. "No thanks. Not really hungry."

John's quirked eyebrow was like a slap to the back of Dean's head. He should be starving right now! He hadn't eaten in three days! He had to switch topics, and fast, if he was going to avoid suspicion. "I could use a shower though. I still feel like I'm covered in sand."

"You just woke up, Dean. I'm not sure you should be gettin' outta bed so soon."

"I'll make it quick, promise. Please, dad."

John could see the desperation in Dean's eyes and had no choice but to relent. "Alright, fine. But don't lock the door and call if you need help, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

John helped Dean get out of bed and braced his elbow all the way to the bathroom door. Dean had to admit his legs felt like jelly, but he just wanted to be left alone and every second he was being babied made him that much more irritable. By the time he closed the bathroom door behind him, he was fighting the urge to smash his fist through the mirror.

He had no idea where this anger was coming from, but he was grateful there was a door separating him from the concerned and pitying faces on the other side. At last, he was alone.

Images assaulted his memory as he tried to clear his head.

He quickly stripped off the sweatshirt and pants someone must have put on him while he was unconscious, then turned the shower on as hot as it would go. He needed to cleanse his body, not realizing that the feeling of being sullied wasn't physical, but mental.

Sarina… Whispering in his ear, biting his lip, undulating against his flesh…

Even as the scalding water burned his skin, he could still feel her icy hands all over his body and it made him want to throw up. He grabbed the soap and started scrubbing at his chest, his arms, and his thighs until the skin was painful and red. No matter what he did, he just couldn't feel clean again.

Her moans of delight filled his ears as his father winked down at him in comfort. "No more protests, handsome. Just submit."

Tears of frustration were mixing with the water droplets on his face and he had no other option but to admit defeat. He sank to the floor of the tub and pulled his knees in tightly to his chest, burying his face and his weakness behind them, hoping to muffle the sobs so no one else would know. He lost track of the time, but he was still crying when the water turned cold.

TBC

Please review! Sorry I couldn't get this out for Easter weekend for you, Kay! I had a version written in time, but I wasn't satisfied with it. So after a serious revamp, I hope you liked this update! And thanks, VooDoo Doll13, for all your suggestions! I hope I did them justice. Your review helped my muse a lot!