"There were seven fatalities ruled accidental drownings in this county alone within the last two years," Sam said, his eyes intent on the screen of his laptop. He clicked a link that took him to the next open tab. "Four in the year before that."
Dean's arm brushed against his in the reach for his whiskey glass on the table, and Sam quickly moved his elbow in and out of the way.
"Jumpy?"
Sam shot him a look. "My jaw still hurts. Don't talk to me about who's jumpy."
"Aw," Dean mocked with a wide grin. "Do I punch too hard?"
"Shut up. Seriously."
Dean indicated the laptop with a tip of his glass before draining it. "So that's, what? Eleven drownings inside three years? That's a little high. Any of them at the pool here?"
Sam shook his head. He opened a new browser and typed in a search, looking for correlations. There didn't seem to be any. All of the victims were different ages, from unrelated backgrounds and no common links. Then, Sam's eyes narrowed.
"Dean, get this. Three of the people who died were twins."
"Three? I thought they came in sets of two." His eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. "Awesome sets of two."
"Dude. Can you focus a second? No, I mean that of the drowning victims, three were twins who left a surviving twin behind. That's a weird coincidence."
"So this is something supernatural picking off twins, and the rest of the deaths are just accidental drownings?"
"Maybe, but…" Sam's fingers tapped over his keyboard, his brow locked in concentration. "Okay, wait. Mary Wright, age 62, she and her husband just celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary. Steve Patterson, engaged to his high school sweetheart who he'd known since childhood. Here's an interview with another girl's best friend who goes on and on about how she and the victim were 'closer than sisters.' And here. Same thing. This guy says he lost a friend who was 'like a brother' to him.
"I'm not sure I see it, Sam. Those are the kinds of things you say when somebody close to you drowns."
"But not like this, Dean. Look." He turned his screen so that Dean had a view of a news article showing a picture of a crowd gathered at the scene of a pool very much like the one at their hotel. At the forefront was a distraught, middle-aged woman, her clothes and hair soaked, clutching a bundle of wet clothing to her chest. "That's Gloria Beckham. She tried to save her sister from drowning but couldn't. Her sister died in her arms. Dean, each of these deaths happened right in front of the person they loved most. And they weren't able to stop it."
Dean looked at him. "You okay? I mean, you're not reading something into this because of… earlier?"
"You said you felt something grab your leg. Were you imagining that?"
"No. Fine. I'll call Bobby, see if all this rings any bells."
Dean snapped his phone closed and walked back across the motel parking lot toward Sam. Sam was leaning against the iron grate outside the pool, watching a handful of kids splashing each other and looking pensive.
"Anything?" Sam asked.
"He agrees it's weird, and he'll call us back after he has some time to look into his books on mermaids or water goblins or whatever else it could be."
"Mermaids, really?"
"Yeah, I don't know. Listen, Sam?"
"Hmm."
Dean frowned. He reached up and touched the bandage covering the raised swelling on his forehead. "Never mind. Forget it. Hey, wanna hit the bar while we wait for Bobby's call? I know I could use a drink."
"You've been drinking."
"Don't judge."
"Nah, I'm good, actually. Go ahead though if you want. I'll keep going on the research end back at the room."
Dean made a fist at his side, knocking it against his leg. "Yeah… okay. See you back at the room, then."
Don't be weird, Dean told himself. Little brother or not, Sam was a big boy. He could take care of himself next to a pool. He took a few steps toward the car.
Still. Something had pulled him in.
He stopped and turned back to Sam. "Come with me," he insisted.
"Dean."
"Come on, Sam. Brotherly bonding. One hour, tops. You owe me at least one drink for the tongue you slipped me."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Gross."
To be continued.