Chapter 14: Sam's Genius Idea

He hears those voices again. Those tormented voices coming from the well. They scream for his help, but he doesn't know what to do. He's alone. He's not sure where Dean is, but he's afraid for some reason. Maybe it's just the energy in the air, or those voices calling to him. He just has this sense of foreboding that seems to envelope all his senses.

He realizes that he is at the well again. He knows that Dean warned him to stay away from it, but he can't help but walk towards it. Something draws him to it, and though he is trying to resist, he can't. He finds that he can't control his feet anymore.

He's standing beside the well now, looking down into its depths.

"SAM!"

There's one voice in particular that rises above the rest, that seems to call to him more than the others. But whose is it? He tries to figure out who it is by leaning farther over the well's mouth.

"SAM!"

Then he recognizes the voice. He's not sure how he recognizes it, considering that he was only a baby the last time he heard it, but he just knows somehow.

"Mom?" he whispers, horrified by the thought of her being trapped down there in that darkness.

Without a second thought, he jumps into the well to save her, to pull her free. The water is ice cold as he hits it.

"Sammy!"

"Mom!" he calls, searching for her, but it's just so dark down here...

Then he feels a hand grab his foot and pull him under. He struggles, reaching up for something to grab, but another hand grabs his arm, then his other leg. He's trying to fight, but he can't and he feels the air draining from his lungs as he's pulled deeper and deeper. He's fighting for air, fighting to pull himself away from the arms that are dragging him under. He calls out to the one person who he knows can save him, can always save him...
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"Dean!"

"Sammy! Sammy, wake up!"

Sam gasped as his eyes flew open, surprised to find that he could breathe easily.

"Man, what the hell's the matter with you?" Dean snapped, seeing his brother was conscious enough to hear him now, "You scared the shit out of me! I come in here and you're not breathing or anything! Damn!"

Sam was a little taken aback by Dean's anger, but had to remind himself that it was only his way of showing that he was scared.

He can be such an ass...

"Are you alright?" Dean was asking in angry concern. "Sammy?"

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam snapped, getting tired of his brother shaking him, "Let me go, dude. I'm fine."

Dean took a step back, releasing his brother's arms and looking him over.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"No," Sam replied.

Dean raised an eyebrow in a warning that if Sam didn't tell him willingly, he'd tell him eventually through persuasion.

"I had a nightmare, alright?" Sam said.

"And you usually stop breathing when you dream, am I right?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"I was," Sam hesitated, "I was at the well. I jumped in to save Mom."

Dean's anger immediately melted away. "Sam, look at me."

The younger Winchester obeyed, looking up with tears shining in his eyes.

"Sam, Mom is not in that well. You understand me? Her spirit was destroyed back in Lawrence, remember? Whatever was calling out to you wasn't her. These things play tricks on people. You know that."

"Yeah, I know," Sam replied, "but that doesn't change the fact that it felt real."

Dean sighed and sat down on the bed next to Sam.

"I know," he said softly, "I know. I can only imagine what you feel, with all your dreams and premonitions. I wish there was a way for me to make it easier on you."

Sam smiled, feeling comforted by Dean's words and his rare show of emotion.

"Thanks, man. That means a lot to me. It really does." There was a moment of silence between the two before Sam added, "Now when are you going to get me out of this friggin' hospital?"

Dean laughed, surprising Sam still by reaching out and messing up his little brother's shaggy hair. He stood and walked over to the window, looking out at the sunset.

"Soon, Sammy. But first, I have some news."

"Is this about your trip to the asylum?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, "I found out something pretty interesting."

Dean told Sam all about how it had been Jessica who had reached out to them and not Emily and also about another psychic player who had murdered the twin and was now monitoring the other.

"Wow," Sam said, "I never would have guessed. But it does make sense. How would Emily have spoken to us if she was trapped in the well? It had to have been Jessica. I can't believe we didn't realize that before."

"I know," Dean answered, "but I was also right about the necromancy thing. Someone's summoning the spirits to attack people like you and the Hoffkin twins, trying to free the souls trapped in the well."

"That doesn't make sense," Sam replied, still not wanting to admit that Dean was right, "Why would anyone do that?"

"Maybe she's also trying to pull someone from the well?"

"By feeding more souls to it?"

"Until it bursts," Dean added grimly.

"Then how the hell are you supposed to save Emily?" Sam asked.

"There must be another way," Dean said thoughtfully, "But I'm not sure what it is yet."

Sam sighed, "Yeah, well, we'd better figure all this out soon, Dean. 'Cause I have a feeling that something big is going to happen."

"You too, huh?" Dean asked, looking back at his little brother. "I'm trying, but none of this seems to make much sense."

"I think we need to go back to the train station," Sam said, "I mean, we could go there and stake it out. Wait for whoever it is to show up."

"Yeah, man, but that could take forever," Dean replied, "How often do psychics wander into town?"

Sam smiled slyly. Dean immediately knew what Sam was thinking and began to shake his head before his brother even had time to speak.

"No. No, no, no," was all the older Winchester seemed to be able to say.

"Come on, Dean," Sam insisted, "You said it yourself, this could be our best opportunity to catch her."

"You just love throwing yourself in the way of danger, don't you?" Dean asked.

"It's fun to watch you squirm," Sam replied sarcastically.

"You think this is fun?" Dean asked, eyes widening in shock, not realizing that Sam was joking with him, "Preying on my emotions is fun?"

"I'm playing with you, Dean. Chill. But seriously. It's our best chance."

"No," Dean repeated, "Only on a cold day in Hell will I let you risk this."

"It's that or use Jessica as bait."

Dean's eyes narrowed at the thought.

"That's not an option, either."

"Well, Dean, I'm not seeing very many options here, so you need to pick something."

"Man, just slow down a minute and let me think!" Dean snapped, rubbing his eyes. "There has to be a third door."

"Maybe..." Sam began, "we need to pull Emily from the well."

Dean frowned, thinking about what Sam was saying. Ever since the start of this, all Jessica had told him to do was pull Emily from the well. He had assumed it was because she wanted to know that her sister's soul was safe, but what if there was another reason for it? What if they needed Emily's spirit to help them find, and capture, this killer.

"Sammy," Dean said, "You're a genius."