Chapter 15: Into the Well

"No, you are not coming with me!"

"Yes, Dean, I am. No way you're going to do this alone!"

"Sammy, you know that you're what these spirits want!"

"It's Sam."

"And you coming with me is like walking into a pit of vipers!"

Sam gave Dean a level stare. He had checked out of the hospital and was standing across the Impala from his brother. As usual, the older Winchester was being an ass. Nothing new there.

"Stop trying to protect me all the time, Dean," Sam said calmly, giving his brother the best puppy dog eyes that he could muster.

Dean stood his ground, but Sam could see him melting slowly. Sam just continued to stare.

"Alright," Dean finally gave in, "but dammit, Sammy, if you do anything stupid I swear to God I'll kill you myself."

Sam grinned as he opened the door to the Impala and got in.

"If Dad knew about this he would kill me," Dean muttered to himself.
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"Alright, here's the deal," Dean looked over at Sam as he parked the car at Free Hope Church, "You let me pull Emily's soul out. You don't go near the well unless you have to. You feel any sudden urges to jump in, you leave. You hear anyone you know calling you name besides me, you-"

"Dean!" Sam interrupted, "I know. I can take care of myself. I, also, was raised by Dad you know."

Dean nodded and got out of the car. Sam followed him to the trunk and watched Dean pull out a number of items. Rifles with rock salt cartridges, rope, a flashlight, and matches and lighter fluid ("Just in case.").

As the two made their way down the trail towards the well, Dean in the lead and Sam in tow, the younger Winchester couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding, not unsimilar to the one he had felt in his dream. He was uncomfortable with coming here, but there was no way that he was going to let Dean do something like this alone.

Sam could hear the voices coming from the well as they approached. They seemed louder than before, probably reacting to Sam's powers. The younger Winchester couldn't help but feel sorry for them, but there was no way that they could pull out every single soul. He wasn't even sure exactly how they were supposed to pull out one.

"Okay," Dean said as they came upon the well, "Jess told me I had to pull her out like I pulled you out. So I guess our best bet would be for me to go down there and you get ready to pull me up."

"That doesn't sound very safe," Sam commented.

"You got a better plan?" Dean asked.

"How are you supposed to find her once you're down there?"

Dean shrugged as he took the rope and tied it around a tree.

"Why can't I do this instead?" Sam asked, watching Dean, "Maybe with my abilities-"

"She said it had to be me, Sam," Dean interrupted, "Don't know why, but that's how it has to be."

Dean began tying the rope around his waist. So far, the pull that the well had exerted on them before was dull. Sam was thankful for that. But how long would this lull last, Sam wondered? Until Dean was in the well and Sam was up here alone? That's what Sam feared, that he would be of no use to Dean because he'd be fighting off the pull of the spirits from up here.

"Dude, you look sick," Dean commented, "You alright?"

"Fine," Sam answered, making sure that the rope was tight around the tree."

"Just listen for me," Dean instructed, pulling off his jacket and overshirt, "And try not to be pushed in." He tossed Sam one of the rifles. "Just in case."

"Be careful," Sam told his brother, thinking about the dream he had had in the hospital where he had been pulled under.

"Hey, Sammy. This is me we're talking about here," Dean said with a grin as he approached the edge of the well and looked down inside, "I'll be careful."

Sam nodded and watched his brother climb over the edge of the opening. Dean was instantly unsure, but realized there was no turning back at the same moment he realized he'd forgotten there was no handholds.

"Whoa!" he cried before plummeting into the well.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

There was a loud splash and then the reply, "I'm alright!"

Sam couldn't help but smile. His brother was such an idiot.

Dean let himself tread water, shining the flashlight around the well.

Alright, he thought, Now what? It just looks like a well to me.

"Dean?" Sam called down.

"What?"

"You alright?"

"Fine, Sammy."

"You weren't saying anything."

"What am I supposed to say?" Dean asked, "I don't even know how to find Emily!"

"Close your eyes and feel for her or something," Sam suggested, feeling stupid his own words.

"Great idea, psychic boy. Things like that don't come as easy for me."

Come on, Emily, he thought silently, I'm here to save you, so show me how.

He continued to shine the light around the well, turning slowly in the water. Then his light caught a face close to his. He jumped back in surprise at the face of the spirit. It looked decayed and rotted, the hair plastered to its forehead, and might once have been a teenage boy, but Dean couldn't really tell.

Dean's back hit the well wall in his attempt to distance himself from the thing. He coughed as a rancid scent seemed to fill the air around him. Suddenly his flashlight flew from his hand and he was cast into darkness.

Save us!

Dean! Help! Pull us free!

Don't leave us here!

The chorus of voices began to call out to him again, just like before, only louder this time, and much more persistent.

"Emily?" Dean called, hoping that the girl's spirit would answer, "Emily!"

Then he felt something grab his arm. He tried to jerk himself free, but something grabbed his leg and pulled. He felt himself dragged down into the icy water. He struggled and pulled against the invisible arms. They seemed to hold him in a death grip, unyielding fingers digging into his skin.

"Dean?" Sam called. He had heard nothing from the well but splashing and now he was getting worried. "Dean!"

Sam felt a cold breeze at his neck but couldn't hear the leaves in the trees shaking. He turned just in time to feel a force shove him backwards. He stumbled, but was able to turn so that he wouldn't fall into the well. He would be no good to Dean if he let something push him down there. Clenching the shotgun in his hand, he lifted it and fired. There was a screech that seemed to shatter the cool night, then only silence.

Sam turned back to the well, fear gripping at his heart.

"Dean! Dean!!"