Disclaimer: Is the world flat?

A/N: Yay—it's the year 2015! The relevance of that is nothing more than a way to start these added notes. My absence from posting is for no other reason than life; school, social life and a bizarre mixture of family angst has taken up much of my time. But, happily, I wrote up this guy. It's very similar to another story I've written on here; Seconds To Live (chapter 50—check it out!), wherein Sam gets in trouble and has a conversation with his Mom. This time it's Dean who gets in trouble and has a conversation with his Dad. I hope what few readers there are out there enjoy! Make sure to review—give me an idea of something really intense/interesting for my 100th story!

Title: A Midsummer Night's Dream
Genre: Suspense
Summary: Dean ends up trapped in a sinking truck. But just as things seem like they're hopeless he's reminded that everything will be okay.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

"You know when you were a kid I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen I'd be… I'd be wrecked. And you. You'd come up to me and put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd… you'd say 'it's okay Dad'. Dean I'm sorry… you shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should have been saying it to you." –John Winchester, In My Time of Dying

…

"No! Damn it!" Dean shoved his shoulder hard against the door of the old truck, "Crap!"

Five minutes earlier Dean had been driving the truck down the dark back gravel road in an attempt to get it to where Sam waited with the Impala. A horrendous murder had taken place in the truck, drenching the carpets in blood; technically remnants of the victim as the hunters found out the hard way that the spirit was haunting the truck.

Dean couldn't stop it from crashing into the lake.

"Open, damn it!" Dean swivelled in the driver's seat and kicked at the windows.

A solid thud was all that came from the effort, and Dean felt a cold feeling forming in the pit of his stomach as the water began to rise further in the cab of the truck.

"Let me out, damn it!" Dean cried out kicking more at both the windows and windshield futilely.

The inky black water was at his waste now rising quickly, and frantically Dean grabbed out his phone. Pressing Sam's number, Dean prayed his brother would answer in time.

"Crap, crap, crap!" the whole truck was sinking on end and Dean struggled to maneuver himself to the quickly shrinking air bubble.

"Hello… Dean?"

Dean had completely forgotten about the phone in his hand, "Sam!"

"Dean! What's wrong? Where—"

"Sammy, help!" Dean held the phone up above his head as the water swallowed his body, "Lake… truck!"

Blackness enveloped Dean then as the water crushed around him. A last feeble effort to open the door was found useless and the tightening in his chest from lack of oxygen caused Dean's head to swim. In less than a minute Dean felt himself slowly slipping away.

….

Dean looked around curiously at his surroundings. Everything was dark aside from where he stood in a dim soft glow of light.

"Hello?" Dean frowned as his heart thumped with memories, "Sammy?"

Dean could feel someone watching him as he looked around more; the twinkle of stars shone down on him, and the smell of fresh rain blew through a warm breeze. Feeling instinctively for his gun, Dean frowned even further when he found it missing.

"Hello?!" Dean called out again, "Who's there?"

"Calm down, it's just me."

Dean's breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide, "Dad…?"

John walked out from the shadows and grinned, "Hey Dean."

Dean stared a moment longer before whispering in a cracked voice, "I'm dead."

"Not quite dude," John laughed placing a hand on his son's arm and turned momentarily serious, "But you're close."

A single tear slipped down Dean's cheek, "Dad... what do I do?"

"Nothing Dean," John shook his head as the two slowly walked along grass.

"What?" Dean stopped and looked at John, "I don't want to die!"

"You won't," John assured, "Dean I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Dean swallowed hard and took up pace beside his Dad as two walked in silence for several minutes.

"Does it hurt?" Dean finally whispered out.

"Does what hurt?"

Dean looked his Dad in the eye and was forced to take a deep breath as his lower lip trembled before speaking, "To die."

"Son, listen to me," John placed a hand on both of Dean's shoulders, "You have lots of people who love you and will do anything to make sure you're okay. You have to believe me."

Dean's brow scrunched up as he realized what his Dad was saying, "Sammy…"

John smiled and nodded.

Dean shook his head, "It's too late Dad. Sam doesn't even know where I am or what happened. The phone call got cut off."

"Dean, your brother is always going to be there for you. You two boys… you've been there for each other your entire lives— every time I wasn't around when you needed me you had each other. It's no different now."

"But what if he can't find me in time?" panic was clear on Dean's face now, "Dad the truck was sinking. Sammy could get hurt, or—"

"Dean," John placed a hand on his eldest shoulder and looked him the eyes, "It's okay."

Dean let out a small laugh and allowed the tears to crawl down his face, "I love you Dad."

...

"Dean, oh God… please… Dean!"

Dean felt a solid hit on his back, and with that felt himself get sick. Choking on the water which had been sitting in his lungs, Dean rolled over to his stomach, his eyes squeezed shut as he coughed.

"That's it Dean," Sam's voice was more recognizable now and Dean felt his little brother's hand rubbing his back, "You're alright, you're okay."

Dean's face tingled bizarrely with the lack of oxygen as he struggled to catch his breath. His face was inches away from the muddy wet ground, however the art of opening his eyes was still beyond Dean as he concentrated on his breathing.

"God…" Sam swallowed the lump in his throat down as he continued to keep physical contact with his brother.

The young hunter had so rarely seen his brother in such a dire situation, and when he finally pulled Dean out of the truck Sam was sure he was dead. An entire lifetime of memories flashed before him in the seconds it took for his big brother to gulp in the first hesitant breaths of life. The terror he felt at the thought of losing Dean caused a cold, dreaded feeling in the pit of Sam's stomach and as he watched his brother lay on the ground breathing slowly but steadily, Sam could feel the warm tears wash down his already wet face.

"Dean," Sam's voice cracked, "Dean, please… can you look at me?"

In an awkward turn, Dean flipped to his back and lay staring up at the stars. Sam's worried face blocked out his field of view, and a weary smile came to the older brother.

"Hey Sammy," Dean's voice sounded funny to his own ears and hurt his raw throat.

In one swift movement Sam had Dean pulled partially upwards into an awkward hug, "You scared the crap out of me Dean. You do that again…"

"And what?" Dean slowly pushed himself all the way up to a sitting position, "You'll kill me?"

"Not even remotely funny," Sam glared grabbing onto Dean's arm to steady him, "Are you alright?"

Dean let out a hacking cough before nodding his head and looking back to where the truck had sunk, "Yeah Sammy… I'm okay."

The End.