Chapter 17: Freeing Emily's Soul

Sam felt the air grow cold around him as he knelt on the ground. The voices continued to grow steadily in his head, making it impossible for him to think.

Behind him, unseen by his eyes, the rope was almost done unraveling.

Sam!

Sam heard the cry through the roar of spirits, through the pain.

Sam, get up!

It was Jessica's voice. Jessica was trying to call to him again. Slowly, the younger Winchester pulled himself to his feet, doing his best to ignore the voices engulfing him.

Then he saw the rope that held Dean slacken. For an instant he hoped that meant Dean was alright, but then he was the rope rushing past him. Fearfully, he reached out and grabbed the end before it could fall into the well. The rope stayed slack for a moment, but them it was pulled hard from below and he was jerked forward, stumbling unceremoniously into the side of the stone well.

Fear continued to absorb him. What was happening to Dean? Was he alright?

Dean was surprised when the ropes slackened and he was yanked farther down by those invisible hands. What scared him more was to not be able to feel those hands, to go numb.

No, I can't give up, he told himself.

He looked back up at Emily and saw that she was reaching out to him. Slowly, he took her hand, surprised to feel her warm fingers entwined with his. He looked into her green eyes and was suddenly hit with a flood of her memories.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Sam had managed to keep hold of the rope and pull out his cell phone from his pocket. He wasn't going to take a chance. If Dean wasn't answering, something was wrong.

"Yes, I'm at Free Hope Church," Sam said in a rush, "It's on Worley Cross Road. My brother's fallen into a well."

"We'll send an ambulance right away."

"Thank you."

The words had barely left Sam's lips when the phone was ripped from his hands. He felt a cold hand grab him from the back of his neck and then he was flying backwards away from the well.

"No!" he hissed when the rope slipped from his hands. He darted forward on hands and knees to snatch at it. He was surprised to find that there was no more pull on it from the other end.
Standing, he began to pull his brother up, desperately praying that he could before the spirits attacked him again. Of course that was just wishful thinking though. A sudden jerk on the rope sent him falling forward. His head hit the edge of the well with a painful crack. Sam was stunned for an instant, feeling blood trickle from his brow. The pain was excruciating, but he wouldn't let it overwhelm him. Fighting off the want to slip into unconsciousness, he suddenly felt a presence beside him. Looking up, he saw that Jessica's form, ghost like but beautiful, knelt beside him.

I'll hold them back while you save your brother, she communicated to him, but hurry! I cannot hold them for long.

Sam nodded. It took him longer than he wanted to pull Dean upwards. He vaguely thought about how his brother needed to lose weight as he strained, dizziness sweeping over him. As he wiped sweat off his forehead he was surprised to see how much blood came off on his shirt sleeve.
Fear gripped Sam's heart like a vice as he pulled his brother's limp body out and gently lowered him to the ground.

Not breathing, he though, oh God, he's not breathing. In the back of Sam's mind he heard sirens, but the only thing on the front of his mind now was Dean.

"Don't do this to me," Sam muttered out loud, "come on, Dean."

Sam laid his head against Dean's chest. Definitely not breathing. Imagining how his brother would react when he found Sam had given him mouth to mouth, but not really caring at the moment, Sam began the procedure.

One, two, three…he counted mentally as he pushed down on Dean's chest.
"Come on, Dean…"

The sirens continued to grow closer, but Sam couldn't hear them. His mind was focused on one thing only. So he didn't notice when the paramedic approached him. A hand was laid on his shoulder and tugged at him gently.

"It's alright son," a quiet voice said, "We've got it from here."

Sam loathed to leave his brother's side, but was reluctantly pulled to the side as the paramedics moved in. His eyes never left Dean, though, and he found himself so gripped with terror that he was unable to breathe. The dizziness threatened to overwhelm him again and he found himself nauseous.

Dear god, please, just let him be alright. I'll do anything, just let him be alright…

Then he saw the girl kneeling beside Dean, the one that no one else seemed to see. Sam knew it wasn't Jessica, that it had to be Emily. She was smiling down at Dean and with a bolt of feat Sam feared she was some sort of Angel of Death. Then he watched as she leaned forward and laid her lips against Dean's. Then she was gone and Dean gasped, choking up water.
Sam pushed past the paramedics until he was with Dean, kneeling where Emily had been.

"Dean," he breathed, "Dean."

That's all he seemed able to say at the moment. He swallowed, feeling relieved tears spilled from his eyes. Even though Dean was on his side vomiting well water, he was still alive and breathing and that's all that mattered.

"Mom…" Dean whispered softly as he lay still now. He opened his eyes slowly and looked up at Sam. "Mom…"

"Shhh," Sam replied, "Don't talk. Just relax. You're alright now.

"Sir, you're going to have to move aside," one paramedic said gently, "Please. Your brother's going to be fine, but we're going to take him to the hospital to make sure. Alright?"

Sam nodded, allowing himself to be led to the side, keeping Dean in his sight as if he was afraid he might vanish or suddenly keel over and die.

"Let me take a look at that."

"Huh?" Sam asked, looking up at the paramedic in confusion.

The man indicated Sam's forehead, where he was still bleeding.

"You look like you may have a concussion," the man said as he took out some supplies, "you should come to the hospital and get checked out yourself."

Sam nodded.

"Older or younger brother?" the man asked kindly as he wiped the blood from Sam's head

"Older," Sam replied, "4 years."

"Thought so," the paramedic replied, "I have an older brother too. Older by 7 years. Once, he took a bad fall, broke his arm. I didn't know how to act. You're so used to seeing them protect you that you forget they're not superheroes."

Sam smiled, letting the man's words wash over him. "Yeah, that's about right," he answered.