AN: on one hand, this is definitely late, on the other hand, it's much much earlier than the last chapter so? I'm gonna count it as a win tbh. Honestly part of its lateness is due to editing issues, I just could not get it to behave, but also, this isn't something I particularly want to get into, but bare bones, a large part of my original hiatus was due to health issues, and while I'm much better than I was before, and really, don't worry about me, I promise it's nothing life-threatening, it is however, life-altering, and I'm still learning how to adjust my life around it. So I'm gonna try to commit to Sunday night posting, at least until I feel I can do that reasonably regularly, and then I'll consider adding Thursday posting too. I do appreciate the concern from everyone in the reviews for the last chapter, everyone was so incredibly kind, but I promise I won't be upset if ya'll want to talk about the story instead of me. Anyway, enjoy!
Addendum
(n.)
A thing to be added; an addition.
Chapter Four
Dead in the Water
aka
I've Been in the Water Too Long
Lake Manitoc, Colorado: November 2017
Here's the thing, Dean flirts like he breathes, so Sam is almost willing to believe that it doesn't mean anything, the way he teases Elena about her legs, her face, the way she can make an entire room sway if she feels like it. Hell, Dean doesn't seem to have any problem flirting with other girls in front of her so maybe that's just the way they are.
What Sam can't let go if the fact that Elena's the first person Dean looks to, in any room, any situation. And Dean touches her so casually, so constantly, arm over her shoulder, grabs her hand to drag her out of harm's way, plays with her hair, but Elena is so careful about touching Dean.
Elena, really, is what gives them away.
Elena doesn't touch Dean unless it's an emergency and he's under immediate threat and he needs help, Sam thought he was making it up but that's the only time he's ever seen her touch him unless she's tossing out the occasional teasing little punch to the shoulder or kick in the shin, calculated casualness in every touch. If Elena is that wary about touching Dean, it begs to question, what exactly does she feel when she touches him?
Right now, Dean's flirting with the waitress like it's his job and she's obviously into it, "Can I get you anything else?" and absolutely no one misses the innuendo or how completely dirty Dean's responding grin is, but the thing is, Elena doesn't seem to notice or care.
She's engrossed in a conversation with a man old enough to be her grandfather about his roses and Sam really believes she actually cares about this man's flowers and what kind of fertilizer he's thinking of switching to.
Sam cuts Dean off before he can commit time he doesn't have. "Just the check, please," he tells her, catching Elena's eye and canting his head for her to come back over she nods and then says her polite goodbyes to the old man who smiles so wide at her that for a second Sam wonders if she'd started that conversation just to make his day. It seems like the kind of thing she would do.
"You know, Sam," Dean starts, an extra helping of exasperation in his tone, "we are allowed to have fun once in a while." He points in the direction the waitress went. "That's fun."
Elena gets to the table just in time to hear his last remark, and she laughs a little, sitting down at Dean's side, smiling fondly at him, and Sam kind of hates it. He wishes they'd just be clear about what the hell they are so he doesn't have to spend all his spare time wondering why the hell his brother doesn't just do something about the fact that he so obviously wants this girl.
He can't even imagine why Elena doesn't do anything, it seems like she's pretty damned determined to stay as much of a mystery as she was that fateful night they met.
He focuses in on what Dean is saying, " –Take a look at this. I think I got one." He slides the paper over so Sam can see it, Elena already having looked at it over his shoulder.
"Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin, last week, Sophie Carlton, 18, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water – nothing." Dean shakes his head. "Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either," he adds. "They had a funeral two days ago."
"A funeral?" Sam asks.
"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty casket, for closure or whatever," Dean says, making a face.
"People grieve in different ways," Elena says, but her voice is distant, and she'd been so silent that until that moment Sam hadn't even remembered she was there. Dean's expression changes as he looks at her, like something dawned on him in a way that isn't all that pleasant.
"Uh, you can, sit this one out, Gilbert," Dean offers, concern evident in his tone. "If it hits too close to home, or whatever."
Elena shakes her head, looks at him, making an effort to pull herself back from whatever dark hole she'd been in. "No, it's okay, I'll be fine," she assures him. "Just, maybe a little less involved," she suggests when Dean looks like he's going to protest.
Sam wonders what about this one could hit close to home, why his brother would be so concerned that he'd offer her a way out when he always seems to rely on her so completely during the course of a hunt.
Before he can ask, Elena gets up. "I think I'll wait in the car," she says, her face closing off in a way it does sometimes, like she's closing the curtains on all her good will and kindness, withdrawing until she can be the best version of herself again. That bright, smiling girl who goes out of her way to make conversation with lonely old men.
Without a word, Dean hands his keys off to Elena, and she slips out the door.
"Yeah, people do grieve in different ways," Dean says, echoing Elena's words, his eyes still on her through the window as she climbs into the backseat of the Impala.
Dean turns back to Sam, pretending like nothing unusual had happened.
"Well now that they've got their closure or whatever, let's hope they don't mind a couple of questions," Dean says, clearly intent on heading off Sam's questions about Elena's reaction to their latest case.
It works.
"Closure? What closure?" Sam asks bitterly. "People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them."
Dean says, shifts in his seat, looks over at Sam, sighs, and goes for it. "Something you want to say to me?"
Sam doesn't hold anything back.
"The trail for Dad, it's getting colder every day."
"Exactly," Dean agrees. "So what are we supposed to do?"
"I don't know. Something. Anything," Sam says, his frustration growing. He looks out the window at the Impala, he can't see Elena, so he assumes she must be lying down or something.
"We could—" he starts, but Dean sees where he's heading and is already shaking his head.
"No," he says flatly. "She doesn't know anything," he adds.
"We don't know that Dean, for all we know whatever she's keeping a secret is why Dad's missing," Sam argues.
Dean shakes his head. "If it was about Elena, she'd be with him," Dean points out, easily poking holes in Sam's theory.
"She could still know where he is," Sam says, setting his jaw stubbornly.
"She doesn't," Dean says simply. "She'd tell me if she did," he insists.
"You don't know that," Sam argues. "She already keeps secrets, why wouldn't she keep that secret from you if Dad asked her to?"
Dean sighs. "Because, Sammy, the only secrets she keeps are about herself, they're her secrets, she has the right to not tell me – us, if she doesn't want to."
Sam scoffs. "Like you don't want to know."
Dean looks up, exasperated. "Of course I want to know, Sammy," he says to the ceiling. He tips his head back down to look at his brother. "But I'm not gonna make her tell me."
Sam knows he should let it go, he's uncertain that whatever secrets Elena is keeping has anything to do with their dad, but he doesn't have anything else to go on, this is it, and Sam can't understand why Dean, who hates secrets and lies and always wants to know everything even if he's gonna hate it, is so willing to let Elena keep all her secrets.
"Why not?" Sam challenges.
Dean sighs deeply, and then it bursts out, the truth, like he never intended to tell him. "Because she'll leave," he says in a rush, in one breath.
"Excuse me," Sam says, taken aback.
Dean heaves a sigh, looks at the table, working his jaw. "Elena would leave, go somewhere else, go stay with her brother at college, before she'd tell me – us, her secrets," he says. "I really do believe that," he adds, softer.
Sam gets it suddenly, Elena and all of her secrets and her refusal to let Dean in is better than no Elena at all.
"Okay," Sam says, backing off. He still wants to know what she's hiding, but Dean knows Elena better than he does, so if he says she'd leave, then she'd leave, and that's the last thing Sam wants.
He doesn't want her to leave because she's easy to be around and he genuinely likes her, could imagine being friends with her if they'd met in a college class, could imagine Jess being friends with her—and that hurts like a physical ache, but it isn't unbearable like everything else about Jess is now, it's just sad, that they never got to meet and be friends—but most of all, Sam doesn't want Elena to leave because Dean doesn't want her to leave.
Whatever weird, intense, ignored thing they have going on, Dean wants her there, with him, and Sam isn't anywhere near a bad enough person to drive her away just because he's a curious person by nature.
"What is it about this case that made you think she wouldn't want to take it?" Sam asks, since he can't ask about anything else.
Dean sighs in exasperation.
Sam switches tactics. "Is it like the bridge?" Sam asks. "Elena doesn't like drowning like she doesn't like bridges?"
Dean lets out a scoffing laugh. "Sammy, most people don't like drowning," he points out.
"So water," Sam says. "Elena doesn't like water, like she doesn't like bridges."
Dean pays the bill.
"Yes, Sammy, Elena doesn't like drowning," he finally says begrudgingly, "like she doesn't like bridges." He looks at him, adds, "Water's okay, most of the time."
Dean stands, smiles at the waitress, and walks out the door towards the Impala, already talking to Elena.
"Drowning and bridges," Sam says under his breath. "Got it."
The drive to Lake Manitoc isn't too long, but every mile marker they pass seems to make Elena tenser and quieter, and despite her assurances, it doesn't seem like she wants to take this case. Dean makes an effort to talk to her, but her replies seem to drift out of her, like she's not really there, not really talking to him, just letting someone else take the wheel and do the hard work for her.
When they final get to the Carlton residence, it isn't even a question of if Elena will go in with them, she just looks at Dean, her eyes impossibly big, drowned in memories, and he nods slowly, moves his hand like he's going to touch her, stroke her hair, squeeze her shoulder, but he stops, drops his hand, like he's afraid of what touching her would mean when she's like this.
He catches Sam's eye and cants his head to indicate that he should follow him. One last look at Elena's lonely figure in the car, and he does.
"Will Carlton?" Dean asks the young man who opens the front door.
"Yeah, that's right," he says, eyeing them warily.
"I'm Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamil," Dean says by way of introduction. "We're with the U.S. Wildlife Service." Dean flashes his (fake) badge, and Will lets them in.
He leads them out to the pier on the lake where his dad sits.
"She was about a hundred yards out, that's where she got dragged down," Will says, tucking trembling fists into his pockets as he describes the way his sister died.
"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean asks.
"Yeah." Will scoffs. "She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She's as safe out there as in her own bathtub."
Sam jumps in. "So, no splashing, no signs of distress?" he asks.
"No, that's what I'm telling you," Will says, shaking his head impatiently. His eyes are on Dean's car, he can see the back of Elena's shiny dark head of hair, and Sam knows he wants to ask about her, so Sam distracts him with more questions, remembering the way Elena had been looking at the lake when they'd come back out with Will.
She'd look breathless, drowning on dry land, and then she'd turned so suddenly and stayed so still that Sam hadn't been able to bring himself to look back at her since, although Dean had turned around a few times to check on her.
"Did you see any shadows in the water?" Sam asks. "Some dark shape breach the surface?"
Will shakes his head. "No, again, she was really far out there."
Dean asks, "you ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?"
"No, never," Will denies. "Why? What do you think's out there?"
"We'll let you know as soon as we do," Dean says evasively, turning quickly to head back to the car. He doesn't go for the driver's door though, instead opens one of the back doors, sliding in next to Elena, probably to check up with her.
"What about your father?" Sam asks, intent on finishing the line of questioning, even if Dean is too distracted to do it. "Can we talk to him?" Sam asks, perfectly willing to question the older Mr. Carlton while Dean figures out what can be done for Elena.
Will looks at his father, then back at Sam.
"Look, if you don't mind, I mean, he didn't see anything, and he's kind of been through a lot," Will says protectively.
Sam nods. "We understand," he says amiably.
He heads back to the car, seeing that Dean isn't making any moves towards the driver's seat, Sam heads there, reaching back for the keys once he's settled.
Dean hands them over wordlessly. He's leaning into Elena, only their shoulders touching, and she's still silent, but she looks better than she had earlier, less far away, less drifting.
She doesn't come in with them when they head for the sheriff's office, but she at least tells them herself, this time, verbalizes that she isn't up for it, which seems like an improvement to Sam.
"Now why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" the sheriff asks as he leads them back to his office.
Sam replies with a question of his own. "You sure it's accidental?"
The sheriff gives him a look, so he elaborates. "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."
"Like what?" the sheriff challenges. "Here, sit, please," he says, indicating to the two chairs in front of his desk. "There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake," he says as he makes his way over to his own seat. "There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person." He smirks. "Unless it was the Loch Ness monster," he adds mockingly.
"Yeah, right," Dean says, his tone in obvious agreement with the sheriff's ridiculing tone.
"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks," the sheriff says pityingly. "Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."
Dean shakes his head. "Yeah, but that's weird though," he counters. "I mean, that's the third missing body this year."
"I know," the sheriff says gravely. "These are people from my town. These are people I care about," he reminds them.
"I know," Dean says.
"Anyway." The sheriff sighs and leans back in his chair. "All this, it won't be a problem much longer."
"What do you mean?" Dean asks.
The sheriff gives him a surprised look. "Well, the dam, of course."
"Of course, the dam," Dean says, agreeing quickly like he'd already known, Sam nodding along for believability. "It's uh, sprung a leak."
The sheriff scoffs. "It's falling apart," he corrects. "And the feds, won't give us the funds to repair it, so they've opened the spillway." He leans forward and says, frankly, "In another six months, there won't be much a lake. There won't be much of a town, either." He pauses. "But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that." He gives them a penetrating look.
"Exactly," Dean agrees.
A knock on the open door brings their attention over to a pretty brunette, already walking into the room.
"Sorry, am I interrupting?" she asks.
Dean and Sam start to stand up.
"I can come back later," she says.
The sheriff introduces her. "Gentlemen, this is my daughter."
Dean is already off in flirting land while Sam tries not to let his impatience show.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Dean."
"Andrea Bar, hi," she says.
"Hi," Dean says, and Sam fights back a snort of exasperation. Dean loves nothing more than a pretty girl to flirt with.
"They're from the wildlife service, about the lake."
Thankfully the sheriff interrupts before Dean can really get going and Sam has to walk into a wall out of sheer embarrassment for him.
The Sheriff introduces them to Andrea's son, Lucas, a quiet little boy. He then subtly guides them out of his office with a vague insistence that they return if they need anything. Dean, of course, takes the opportunity to innocently ask for a motel recommendation from Andrea.
He feigns confusion at Andrea's incredibly simple directions, compelling her to lead them outdoors and down the street in the correct direction, Sam trailing after them and rolling his eyes at his brother's one track mind.
"So, cute kid," Dean says. He and Dean walk behind her as she leads them the two short blocks to the motel.
"Thanks," Andrea says back at him. They follow her across the street.
"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean says and Sam finds himself dropping back just a bit so neither of them will hear his snort.
Andrea looks back to give Dean a disbelieving look, turning forward so he can't see her holding back a laugh at his expense.
"There it is, like I said, two blocks," Andrea says, turning to them.
"Thanks," Sam says.
"Must be hard," she says to Dean, "with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick up line."
Before Dean can fully process her comment, she's jogging across the street, tossing a light "enjoy your stay!" over her shoulder as she goes.
Sam tries not to beam.
"'Kids are the best'?" Sam asks amusedly. "You don't even like kids."
"I love kids," Dean says.
"Name three children that you even know," Sam replies instantly.
Dean's face goes blank. Sam rolls his eyes and walks away.
"I'm thinking!" Dean insists as he follows behind him.
"'…With your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick up line'," Sam quotes out loud with amusement.
Dean gives him a glare.
"What are you doing?"
Sam's response is instantaneous.
"I'm committing it to memory so I can remember it word for word when I tell Elena."
Dean shoves him in the shoulder, hard, but Sam just laughs unrepentantly.
"You should call Elena, I'll go get us a room," Sam says after he composes himself, a hint of laughter still in his voice.
Dean scoffs.
"Don't be stupid, Sammy, Elena texted me while we were in with the sheriff, she's already got us a room here."
Sam stops short, looking after him incredulously.
Dean turns back. "What?" he shrugs innocently.
"You are unbelievable, man," Sam finally says after a moment, shaking his head as he starts to walk again.
"Whatever," Dean says unrepentantly, "the room's this way."
There are plenty of weird aspects of Dean and Elena's relationship to Sam, without question the most suspect is the fact that they share a bed.
Dean has rock solid reasoning for it, but it still strikes Sam as the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard, his brother platonically sharing a bed with a girl. Dean Winchester sleeping in the same bed as a girl and absolutely no shenanigans or naughty touching occurring.
They go back for the Impala and park in front of the room number Elena had texted Dean. In the room Elena is sprawled upside down on the bed closest to the door, her hair flipped out from under her to flow down the foot of the bed, so long it touches the floor. The local news is on, but Elena's eyes are on the ceiling, her face devoid of expression.
Without a word, Dean drops both of their bags next to the bed and flips himself casually down to lay next to her, their shoulders just barely touching. Dean turns his head to look at her, and after a moment she looks back at him.
"So tell me about it," Elena says softly, and Dean obliges, shifting so their arms are pressed together from shoulder to elbow.
Sam twitches, but says nothing, moves to put his stuff down next to the other bed before he goes about setting his laptop up.
Dean's logic isn't at all flawed, for once, but it's still weird.
When it had first come to light back in Jericho, how exactly sleeping arrangements worked, Sam had stared at his brother for a long time.
Dean had rolled his eyes. "We usually share a bed, Sammy, it's fine."
"Excuse me?" Sam had asked, wondering if somehow he'd missed something about Dean and Elena's dynamic after all. Maybe Elena was as adverse to traditional relationships as his brother.
But Dean had only rolled his eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter, perv, nothing's ever happened, it's just the most sensible solution."
"To what?"
Dean had shrugged. "We're on the road alone together a lot, Sammy, people look at us and they'd never believe we're just friends and we definitely can't pass as sibling," he'd pointed out.
Sam had given a cautious conceding nod, these were all valid points. He'd only seen them together for a day and arguably knew Dean better than just about anyone save for their father and possibly now Elena, but even he'd made snap assumptions about their relationship.
"So you know the rules, we have to try to blend in, be forgettable, I show up with her in tow and try to insist we're friends and that's all, and ask for two beds? That makes us pretty friggin' memorable," Dean had said. "Elena's already a little bit too much of a people magnet, so we just get one bed and let people assume whatever."
Sam had simply stared at him, unable to disagree with his logic, but still incapable of wrapping his head around his brother sharing a bed with a girl, platonically.
Dean rolled his eyes at his disbelief.
"Oh shut up, I'm an adult, I can sleep in a damn bed with a girl without anything happening, I've been doing it for nearly two friggin' years."
That had been the end of that, Sam hadn't brought it up again, no matter how weird it was to him when he woke up in the middle of the night to see them lying side by side, both under the covers but not touching at all.
He can barely look at them on the bed, now, lying down side by side, fully clothed on top of the covers, talking about the case, without feeling like he's invading their privacy, a feeling he's just starting to get used to.
His ultimate conclusion is simple, Dean and Elena are weird.
Dean has made his way to the part of the story that includes Andrea, and Elena's mouth twitches just a little bit, so Sam jumps in to give her the exact line she'd parted with, to give Elena the full effect.
When Elena laughs out loud, he knows he made the right choice. The small satisfied smile at the corner of Dean's mouth confirms Sam's suspicion that Dean only included that part of the story in order to cheer Elena up.
A thoughtful look crosses Dean's face. "Hey, 'Lena," he starts, "what about Jeremy?"
Elena laughs again, understanding his thought process instantly.
"Dean, Jeremy was sixteen when you met us, he doesn't really count as a little kid, you dork."
Dean sniffs incredulously, shooting her a playfully resentful look.
"C'mon, Sammy's the straight man, you're supposed to back me up," he says teasingly, poking her in the shoulder.
She sticks her tongue out at him in response while Sam snorts and rolls his eyes in the background.
"We met in her dad's office, that's practically chick flick material," Dean says, clearly on a roll in his efforts to cheer Elena up and unwilling to give it up. "This is all part of my strategy, the super cool, badass guy who's secretly got a soft spot, chicks eat that shit up."
Elena giggles, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
"Hey Sam, you know chick flicks, what's it called when they meet or whatever?" Dean asks, reeling him back in.
Sam rolls his eyes.
"It's a meet-cute," he says begrudgingly.
Dean grins. "Yeah, that." He turns back to Elena. "I'm cute, I could have a meet-cute."
She cackles in delight.
Sam smirks, shaking his head.
"How did you two meet?" he asks, suddenly realizing neither of them had told him.
Elena stops laughing, she sits up slowly.
Dean pushes himself up onto his elbows, the amusement sliding off of his face.
"Uh, we met at my father and aunt's funeral," she says slowly.
"Oh," Sam says, reality sinking in.
Dean sits up beside her.
Almost without her volition she flips her hair over to the side, gathering it together, her fingers deftly begin braiding it together.
"Is that when our dad took you in?" Sam asks hesitantly. He feels bad, really, since it's obviously not a fantastic memory, but he's too rabidly curious to let it go.
"Uh, no," Elena says softly. "Not then, not for another six months actually."
She doesn't elaborate further, but the distant look is back and Dean shoots him an aggravated glare, so he doesn't continue on with that line of questioning.
Sam clears his throat, lunges for the first thing that comes to mind.
"Well that definitely doesn't qualify as a meet-cute," he says.
They both look over at him, matching surprised expressions on their faces.
He stares back for a second, then clears his throat and rolls with it.
"Sorry guys, but I'm afraid you've been disqualified from the meet-cute category, that's just a little morbid for the academy," he says seriously.
The corner of Elena's mouth twitches even as Dean gives him a disbelieving look.
"I think a cemetery meet-cute could be adorable," Elena says, a barely perceptible edge of a playful challenge in her voice.
Dean stops glaring daggers at Sam to look over at her, and seeing that while her fingers continue to twist her hair into a perfectly sloppy side braid, the distant look on her face is gone, he smiles a little bit, relaxing.
Sam nods in agreement. "Oh I'm sure it could be, but at a funeral? It's just not possible, I'm sorry."
Elena sighs dramatically and looks over at Dean.
"Well, better luck next time, I guess."
He shrugs, giving her a faux-rueful grin.
Her phone rings then and she goes to pick it up, her entire body language shifting before she even answers, becomes lighter, cheerful, putting on a show for someone who can't even see her, so Sam knows before she even says his name that it's her brother. She slides off the bed and out the door, already chattering away about his last paper and how he likes the city.
Dean looks over at him.
"I know you have questions, but just don't," Dean says simply, cutting to the point. "Not now, this is not the case to make it your personal mission to figure out what the hell she's hiding, and I guarantee if you pry it will get ugly and I will pick her side without question."
Sam shakes his head. "Dean, I had no way of knowing that, I didn't mean for that to happen—"
Dean cuts him off. "Good, don't do it again," he says shortly. "Not during this case."
Sam nods hesitantly. The silence stretches on for a moment, until Sam turns back to his laptop, the research he'd begun before he found himself dragged into Dean and Elena's conversation already organized by relevance.
"So there's the three drowning victims this year," Sam starts, hoping to diffuse the tense atmosphere.
"And before that?" Dean asks shortly.
"Uh, yeah, six more, spread out over the past thirty-five years," Sam answers. "Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."
"So we got a lake monster on a binge," Dean speculates.
"This whole lake monster theory it- it just bugs me," Sam says.
"Why?" Dean asks simply, his tone still somewhat short.
Sam ignores it, hoping that he'll calm down the more they focus on the case.
"Loch Ness, Lake Champlain—there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing." Dean leans on the back of his chair with his forearms to peer over his shoulder at the computer screen.
"Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it."
Dean leans further over his shoulder, pointing his finger at the screen.
"Wait, Bar, Christopher Bar, where have I heard that name before?" he asks.
"Christopher Bar, the victim in May," Sam says, reviewing the information out loud as he searches. "Oh," he says as he finds what he's looking for, a newspaper article with a terrified picture of the little boy they'd met briefly earlier.
"Christopher Bar was Andrea's husband, Lucas' father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Christopher drowned," Sam reads aloud from the article. "Two hours before the kid got rescued," he summarizes.
Dean looks away for a second, towards the door, he can see Elena's outline through the blinds. She sways a little from side to side, and Dean knows that means the conversation is almost over.
Sam clicks on the photo of Lucas' terrified face, a larger image now filling his screen.
"Maybe we have an eyewitness after all," he says soberly.
"No wonder that kid was so freaked out," Dean says, his eyes now on the screen and the boy's terrified face. "Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over."
Elena comes back inside before Sam can formulate a reply. She's casually slipping her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, a much more relaxed expression on her face.
"What'd I miss?" she asks.
Sam is about to answer when he catches a glimpse of Dean's face out of the corner of his eye. He looks genuinely reluctant, like he doesn't want to tell her and that's enough for Sam to shut his mouth and let Dean do the talking.
"We found an eyewitness," Dean says with a certain amount of reluctance.
Elena raises an eyebrow.
"Lucas, the little boy we met earlier, he was there when his dad drowned."
Elena inhales—not sharply, delicately, deliberately—and then nods so carefully that it physically hurts Sam and he doesn't even know why she's taking it the way she is.
It's easy to assume that she more than likely witnessed the death of one of her parents, maybe even her father, but he can't imagine why this particular case would be so pointed, so painful, that Elena has retreating into herself like she is.
"Andrea said they were gonna go to the park at three, so we're gonna head down there and see if he can give us anything," Dean tells her. He looks her over with a critical eye for a second, and then picks up his jacket decisively. "You should come," he says firmly.
Elena looks at him. "Um, are you sure that's a good idea?" she asks.
Dean nods. "Yeah, you don't have to talk to anyone, just come to the park, do something other than stare at the ceiling and remember."
He makes a certain amount of sense, but Sam's not entirely sure Elena is convinced. He glances between the two of them. Dean is looking at her steadily, a calm but firm expression on his face, and Elena has her head cocked to the side, her face still unsure.
"C'mon, 'Lena, there'll be swings," he says lightly. "If you ask nicely, I might even give you a push when we're done." He smiles winningly at her.
Sam rolls his eyes at his tone.
Elena narrows her eyes at Dean, but, in a surprising move, she reaches for her jacket.
"All right, Winchester, but I'm not talking to anyone," she says, slipping it on and turning back towards the door.
Dean grins at her and moves to follow her out.
"I'll just be on the swings, minding my own business."
"That's all I ask."
Sam shakes his head fondly at them and then follows after them.
"Can we join you?" Sam asks Andrea at the park.
The swings are on the other side of the playground from where Andrea is seated on a bench, and Sam had only been mildly surprised when, with a sassy look thrown over her shoulder for Dean's benefit, Elena had in fact parted ways with them to go sit on a swing. She didn't seem particularly intent on swinging, instead choosing to sit and fool around on her phone, but Sam could tell that it made Dean happy to see her outside of the motel room.
"I'm here with my son," Andrea says, gesturing to Lucas sitting on another bench amidst the other children, drawing with remarkable intensity for a boy his age.
"Oh, mind if I say hi?" Dean asks, already moving towards Lucas.
Andrea scoffs as Sam sits down next to her.
Turning to him she says, "Tell your friend this whole 'Jerry Maguire' thing's not gonna work on me."
Sam shakes his head.
"I don't think that's what this is about."
Dean loves to flirts, but he takes their job very seriously, Lucas is the only possible witness, and while Sam personally feels that Elena is probably better suited to talk to the little boy, he respects that she needs distance from this case for whatever reason.
Despite his doubts, Sam can't ignore that Dean obviously relates to Lucas because of their mother's death that he witnessed when he was younger than Lucas, but still old enough to remember, unlike Sam.
"How's it going?" Dean asks Lucas as he approaches him, crouching down to his level.
Lucas doesn't acknowledge him, continuing to draw.
"Oh I used to love these things," he says, noticing Lucas' army men neatly arranged by his crayons.
He picks one up, mimicking gunfire and explosions, dropping it dramatically to the ground with a chuckle, but Lucas continues to draw.
"So crayons is more your thing?" Dean eyes Lucas for a second. "That's cool. Chicks dig artists," he says very seriously.
Dean looks at Lucas' art, surprisingly realistic for a kid his age.
"Hey, these are pretty good," he says, switching tactics when it becomes clear that Lucas really isn't all that interested in attracting girls or chit-chat. "You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while? I'm not so bad myself."
He looks over Lucas' shoulder to where Elena on the swings, swaying slightly as she focuses on her phone screen. For a second he wishes she was the one talking to the kid, she's good at this sort of shit, but he'd rather she sit this one out than to deal with any of the resulting nightmares from pushing herself too far into a situation that hits too close to home.
She bites her lip and types something into her phone. If she's texting then it's more than likely Jeremy, she doesn't often keep up with her friends from back home and part of him feels bad for how grateful he is for that, but if she spent all her time missing them it would make their job harder.
Her demons are enough to contend with, homesickness is another beast entirely.
Focusing back on the case, Dean grabs a piece of paper and a crayon, sitting down on the bench.
"You know, I'm thinking you can hear me." He starts drawing, talking at the same time, trying to strike the right tone and casualness to put Lucas at ease. "You just don't wanna talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad."
Dean pauses, his crayon hesitating, looks over at Lucas before continuing, "I think I know how you feel."
He stops again, looks at the ground intently to make it through what he needs to say without overwhelming himself.
"When I was your age I saw something." He pauses, shoving down hard on the surging emotions so they don't get the better of him, and just like that he can feel Elena's steadying gaze on him.
She hadn't looked up when he'd checked on her earlier, but in her own special Elena way, she knew exactly when to look at him. He glances back, catching her eye. She gives him a small soft smile, and he returns it gratefully.
He turns back to Lucas.
"Anyway," he says, clearing his throat. "Maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or uh, or believe you." Dean frowns, hating the thought. "I want you to know that I will."
Beside him, Lucas continues to draw.
"You don't even have to say anything, you could draw me a picture of what you saw that day with your dad on the lake," Dean says, knowing that sometimes talking about it is simply too hard.
He watches him for a second.
"Okay, no problem," he says, seeing that Lucas isn't going to say anything, he leans down to show him his drawing. "This is for you, this is my family."
He begins pointing them out. "That's my dad, that's," he hesitates, "that's my mom, that's my geek brother," he says, attempting levity.
"That's my best friend, Elena," he says, and really, she's so much more than that, she's his partner, but best friend seemed to be the normal person term for her, the one he could say with no explanation needed.
"That's her brother, he's an artist, like you," because even if she's spent more of her time in Dean's company in the past two years, Dean can't imagine separating them in his head, wouldn't even want to, so if Elena's his family, so is Jeremy.
"And that's me," he says, pointing to the last stick figure. "All right, so I'm a sucky artist," he admits. "I'll see you around, Lucas."
He puts the drawing down and gets up to go back to where Sam and Andrea are standing, glancing back at Elena. The little girl on the swing next to her says something to her and she smiles and he mirrors it reflexively, missing the moment where Lucas grabs his drawing.
"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me," Andrea is telling Sam when Dean approaches. "Not since his dad's accident."
She looks over at Dean.
"Yeah, we heard, sorry," Dean says seriously, a far cry from the ridiculous flirt she'd met earlier that same day.
"What are the doctors saying?" Sam asks.
Andrea sighs heavily. "That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress."
"That can't be easy, for either of you," Sam says sympathetically.
"We moved in with my dad," she says by way of agreement. "He helps out a lot."
"It's just-" She looks down, and then over to her son. "When I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…" she trails off.
"Kids are strong," Dean says assuredly. "You'd be surprised at what they can deal with."
Andrea gives him a thankful smile, surprised at his depth now that he isn't trying to impress her.
"You know, he used to have such life," she says wistfully. "He was hard to keep up with to tell you the truth." She laughs a little, remembering the way he was, her smile fading as she remembers what he's like now, the pain unbearable for a mother. "Now he just sits there, drawing those pictures, playing with those army men."
"I just wish-" she starts, cutting herself off when she sees Lucas approaching their huddle.
"Hey, sweetie," she says, crouching down to see what he wants.
Without making eye contact, Lucas holds up a drawing for Dean.
Andrea looks up at him in amazement.
"Thanks," Dean says, taking the picture from him. "Thanks, Lucas."
Still looking at the ground, Lucas turns and walks back to his bench.
Andrea looks after her son, then back to Dean for a second before she follows after him where he is gathering his stuff, signaling that he's ready to go.
Dean and Sam head over to the swings where Elena is idly swaying, the tip of her boot dug into the sand.
Elena nods to the picture in Dean's hand. "Looks like you got something after all," she says.
"Yeah, I guess I did, don't know what yet," he says.
He looks at her for a long moment.
"So you want me to push you?" he asks mock-seriously.
She glares.
"No," she says insistently, and then, after a beat, grudgingly, "Yes."
Dean grins and hands over the drawing to Sam.
"Put your phone away," he says, already moving to stand behind her, grasping the chains in his hands, ready to pull her back as soon as her phone is secure in her jacket pocket.
She obliges and Dean pulls her back just a little bit, starting her slow as he gently pushes against her back to add momentum.
Against her will, Elena starts to giggle as her stomach swoops with the increased speed, and Dean grins in complete satisfaction
Sam, having moved off to the side out of their way, stares in amused amazement, half-wanting to laugh at their antics and completely incapable of keeping the grin off his face.
They really are ridiculous.
Unbeknownst to the three of them, Andrea had looked back at them, witnessing the light-hearted scene. The two men are sporting large grins, and the girl on the swing is laughing freely, leaning forward into the momentum for maximum effect. Andrea smiles reflexively at the trio's apparent happiness, puzzled as to why the female member hadn't been introduced to them or referenced in her hearing.
"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie," Sam says abruptly, striding into the motel room the next morning, ignoring the door that slams behind him.
"What do you mean?" Elena asks, propped up against the headboard of her and Dean's bed.
Sam sits down at the foot bed next to Dean.
Elena looks a lot more like herself now, but Sam is too worked up to approach this diplomatically.
"I just drove past the Carlton house." He looks at Dean. "There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."
"He drowned?" Dean asks, glancing over at Elena briefly before focusing back on Sam.
"Yup," Sam confirms before he drops the twist. "In the sink."
Dean blinks. "What the hell?"
"Oh God," Elena says, looking alarmed but not traumatized.
"So you're right, this isn't a creature," Dean says. "We're dealing with something else"
"Yeah," Sam agrees, "but what?"
"I don't know," Dean replies, shaking his head. "A water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon?" he suggests. "I mean, something that controls water…" he trails off, something finally clicking in his head and almost the instant he understands, Sam does too.
"Water that comes from the same source," he says.
"The lake," Elena says softly, contributing for the first time.
Sam snaps his fingers and points at Elena in agreement, considering the implications.
Dean nods, eyeing her carefully, and when he sees that she seems to be fine, he relaxes and pays attention to what Sam is saying.
"Which would explain why it's upping the body count," Sam is saying. "The lake is draining, it'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."
Dean continues his train of thought.
"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere." He stands abruptly, moving to put on his shoes. "This is gonna happen again soon."
"And we do know one other thing for sure," Sam says, shifting to face Dean again. "This has got something to do with Bill Carlton.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sam notes that Elena is getting up too, sliding on her boots just like Dean.
"It took both his kids," Dean says matter of factly, looking at Elena over Sam's shoulder.
"And I've been asking around, Lucas' dad, Chris? Bill Carlton's godson," Sam says.
Dean stands only a second before Elena does.
"You coming?" he asks her.
She grabs her jacket, straightens her spine and takes a deep breath.
"Yeah," she says. "I got this."
Dean smiles at her. "Yeah, you do."
She smiles back at him and slips her jacket on.
"Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit," Dean says.
"Mr. Carlton?" Sam says, causing him to look up.
"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind," he says.
He's sitting down at the docks, staring out at the lake with a haunted look on his face.
"We're from the department-"
"I don't care who you're with," Mr. Carlton says, interrupting Sam's lie. "I've answered enough questions today."
Sam takes a breath, plunges in, metaphorically. "Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?"
When he doesn't reply, Sam continues.
"Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death, we think there might be a connection, to you or your family-"
"My children are gone," Mr. Carlton says abruptly, interrupting Sam again. "It's-" he stops, overcome by his grief for a moment. "It's worse than dying."
He looks up at them, pain etched across his face.
"Go away, please," he says, looking out at the lake again.
Sam turns back, ready to do as he asked, but without a word, Elena slips out silently from behind Dean, stopping just in front of Mr. Carlton. Still silent, she sinks down to her knees, looking up at Mr. Carlton with so much feeling that it makes Sam want to turn and run.
Mr. Carlton looks down at her, startled.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," she says, finally. "It's never easy, but when it can't be explained, or believed, it's worse."
Mr. Carlton gasps a little, gaping at her, tears streaming down his face.
She nods, swallowing hard, her eyes shining.
"You don't have to tell us anything," she says. "I'm just sorry."
Mr. Carlton nods in return, gulping for air. In a surprising move, he reaches out a hand and cradles the side of her head. After a moment he drops his hand and turns back to the lake looming out behind her like an endless stretch of desert. There was nothing nourishing about this lake.
Elena stands, and at almost the same moment Dean moves forward, catching her hand in his. They start back towards the car.
Sam follows after, catching sight of their hands, Dean's hand has gone white with the strength of Elena's grip, but he doesn't seem to have noticed, he walks close enough to her that they're shoulders overlap, hers in front of his.
"So what do you think?" Sam asks once they're out of his hearing range.
"I think the poor guy's been through hell," Dean says as they walk up to the Impala. He adds, "I also think he's not telling us something."
He stops in front of the backseat, reaching across Elena to open the door for her, his other hand still tightly clamped in hers.
Sam leans against the car. "So now what?"
Dean tilts his head, about to answer when he gets distracted by the sight of the Carlton house.
"What is it?" Elena asks, clearing her throat, her voice still husky from her intense emotional display.
"Huh," Dean says. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something."
Dean reaches his free hand into his coat pocket to pull out the folded up drawing Lucas had given him. Elena releases his hand so he can unfold it more easily, revealing a drawing of the house in front of them.
Elena inhales, understanding sets in as Dean looks back at Sam.
No words needed to understand their next move, they all climb into the Impala.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea," Andrea says, shaking her head.
"I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes," Dean says imploringly.
"He won't say anything, what good's it gonna do?" Andrea argues.
"Andrea," Sam interrupts. "We think more people might get hurt, we think something's happening out there."
She shakes her head. "My husband, the others, they just drowned, that's all," she says, rationalizing.
"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go," Dean offers. "But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son."
This seems to do the trick, because Andrea leads him and Sam – Elena had elected to stay in the Impala, since neither Andrea nor Lucas have met her – back to Lucas' room where he is sitting cross-legged on the floor, as ever, drawing.
Dean approaches him slowly, crouching down beside him.
"Hey Lucas, remember me?" he asks.
"You know I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing," Dean says, slowly shifting around so he can sit cross-legged, like Lucas. "But the thing is, I need your help again."
He's watching him intently, looking for any sign of acknowledgement. He pulls out Lucas' drawing, unfolding it and putting it down in front of him.
"How did you know to draw this?" he asks. "Did you know something bad was gonna happen?"
Lucas draws on steadily, never faltering.
"Maybe you could nod yes or no for me?" Dean suggests.
Lucas does not respond.
"You're scared," Dean says, as if it has just occurred to him, like Lucas' own terror has settled into his bones and now he knows so he reacts accordingly. "It's okay," Dean reassures him, "I understand."
Sam realizes that this is the first time he's seen Dean interact with a kid this young up close, he's better at it than he ever imagined he could be.
"See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too," Dean says, his voice quivers. "I didn't feel like talking, just like you."
Dean leans forward intently. "But see, my mom, I know she wanted me to be brave."
Sam is holding his breath, this is the most he's ever heard his brother talk about his feelings about their mom's death.
"I think about that every day, and I do my best to be brave," he pauses. "And maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too."
That, at last, seems to stops Lucas short. He drops his crayon, slowly, carefully, he looks up at Dean. He reaches for one of his drawings and hands it to Dean.
"Thanks, Lucas," Dean says solemnly.
He gets up, Sam and Andrea trailing behind him on his trek towards the door.
"Thanks for letting me talk to him," Dean says to Andrea.
She nods, still shell-shocked by her son's reaction to this man.
When Sam and Dean make to leave, she can't help herself.
"Who is she?" she asks.
Dean turns back.
"The girl, at the park, that you were pushing on the swings?" she elaborates.
Dean raises an eyebrow, wondering what he could say, then remembers what he'd told her son the previous day, sticks with that.
"My best friend," he says.
He can't see Sam's face, but Andrea can, and she sees the large grin that blooms across his face at his brother's words.
"You bring your best friend with you to work?" she asks, skeptical.
Dean scoffs.
"I bring my best friend with me everywhere," he says, unrepentant.
She gives him a disbelieving look.
"What, you wouldn't bring your best friend with you everywhere if you could?" Dean asks.
She smiles incredulously.
"Yeah, I guess I would," she admits.
He grins.
"Well I can, so I do," he replies, turning to leave again.
When they're gone, Andrea shakes her head.
"Best friend, my ass," she mutters.
It takes them less time than anticipated to find the house in the drawing, a breakthrough coming quickly when Sam realizes the distinctive architecture on the church next door.
When Sam brings up what Dean had said about their mom, Dean deflects like a champion, stubbornly sticking to his insistence that he's pathologically allergic to anything touchy-feely, despite the fact that when push comes to shove, he's actually pretty good at it.
"Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?" Dean asks, looking vaguely annoyed by the thought.
Sam scoffs, rolling his eyes at Dean's perfected ability to ruin any moment, sharing a look with Elena who's sitting behind Dean, like usual.
After a second, Elena flashes him a wicked grin. Sam watches in amusement as she leans forward in her seat, wrapping her arms around Dean's shoulders.
"I thought I was the huggy one?" she says teasingly, but her grip is firm and gentle, absolutely comforting even as she teases him.
Dean rolls his eyes at her. "You're a brat," he says gruffly, trying not to notice how good her hair smells or how nice it is when she actually initiates contact, even in a playful way.
She grins slipping her grip up to squeeze-hug his neck playfully before she lets go.
"You love it," she says in a sing-song tone.
Sam laughs.
"It's okay, Dean, everyone needs to be held sometimes," he says mock-seriously.
"Oh my God," Dean says, sounding pained. "I swear to God if the two of you start to regularly team up on me, I'm gonna kill you both in your sleep," he threatens.
Sam and Elena just laugh in reply, sharing a conspiratorial look.
They find the church easy enough, and right next to it is the house, exactly like Lucas' drawing, minus the little boy and his red bicycle.
Inside the house, an old lady painfully explains to them, her son, Peter, of the striped shirt and red bicycle, has been gone—missing and presumed dead, for thirty-five years.
"The police never – I never had any idea what happened, he just disappeared."
Sam nudges Dean, nodding his head in the direction of a collection of army soldier toys.
"Losing him, you know, it's worse than dying," she says.
Elena reaches out, giving her hand a comforting squeeze, and she holds onto it as if it is a lifeline.
Dean and Sam exchange a look at the familiar words.
"Did he disappear from here, I mean, from this house?" Dean asks.
"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school," she explains. "And he never showed up."
Dean finds an old boy scout photo of Peter with another boy.
"Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton," Dean reads off the back grimly.
"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton, somehow," Sam summarizes back in the car.
"Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something," Dean agrees.
"It's almost like he's being punished," Elena says from the back seat.
Sam turns back to her, nodding emphatically.
"Right, the people he loves are all being taken from him," he says.
"So what if Bill did something to Peter?" Dean suggests.
"What if Bill killed him?" Sam corrects.
"Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge, it's possible."
They pull up at the Carlton house soon after, but they're too late, Bill is already in his motorboat, on the lake.
Dean and Sam take off running, shouting after him to come back from the dock. Elena doesn't move though, her gaze on his lonely figure as he looks back at them without emotion. She's already figured out what the boys have yet to understand, Bill Carlton knows exactly what he's doing.
She flinches, unsurprised, when the boat is thrown dramatically through the air, Bill plunging into the water. She can't bring herself to look away.
Andrea is waiting for her father when they arrive at the Sheriff's station, Lucas with her. The Sheriff is somewhat surprised and suspicious to find that they're now on first name basis with his daughter, but all questions go out the window when Lucas rushes towards Dean, tugging on his sleeve insistently making distressed noises, frustrated by his own inability to communicate.
Once Andrea manages to calm him down she leads him out of the station to take him home at her father's request.
In the Sheriff's office he takes their statement about what they'd seen happen to Bill Carlton, fully skeptical of their account. He then reveals that not only does not believe them, he is also aware that they are not with wildlife services. Deadly serious, he asks them to leave the town, promising that as long as they don't return he won't arrest then for impersonating government officials.
All things considered, it seems to be a fair trade, so they agree to leave. After all, if it really is all about Bill Carlton, now that he's dead, it should be over.
"I just don't wanna leave town 'til I know the kid's okay," Dean admits as he drives them back into town, barely having made it past its borders before he'd decisively turned around.
"Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?" Sam asks in amazement.
"I object to that sentiment," Elena says from the backseat, leaning forward. "Dean barely knew me and he still remembered to call me on my birthday less than two months after we met, he can be very caring when he wants to be."
Sam turns to look at his brother in disbelief.
"You were turning eighteen which meant Dad didn't have anything to do with your guardianship any more, I knew you were excited about that," Dean says, clearly deflecting.
Elena rolls her eyes at his obvious discomfort affectionately.
"Well I agree with Dean, we should make sure the kid is okay," she says.
Sam laughs, still disbelieving. "Well the two of you are back to teaming up on me, so clearly order has been restored," he says in surrender.
"Damn right order has been restored," Dean says, glancing over at him with a dead serious look on his face.
Elena simply laughs.
When they arrive at the house, Lucas comes to the door almost immediately, clearly hyperventilating.
"Lucas?" Dean asks, alarmed, but Lucas simply runs off, so he follows him, Sam and Elena behind him.
When they reach the stairs, water is spilling down from a locked bathroom, the source of Lucas' terror becomes immediately obvious.
Lucas begins banging on the door, without a word Elena slips between them, hoists the little boy up into her arms and immediately takes him back down the stairs, careful not to slip and hurt either of them, leaving Dean and Sam free to break down the door and pry Andrea away from the watery grave the wrathful spirit had intended for her.
Lucas struggles against Elena's hold but she doesn't let up, not until Andrea herself comes down the stairs to sweep her son up into her arms directly from Elena's.
"Can you tell me?" Sam asks Andrea, keeping his voice low and soothing.
They're in the front room, morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, just the two of them. Dean is looking through the family albums to try to figure out how Jake is involved with Bill Carlton and Peter's ghost. Elena is with Lucas in his room, keeping him occupied.
"No, it doesn't make any sense," Andrea says, shaking her head in denial. She starts to cry. "I'm going crazy." She buries her face in her hands.
"No, you're not," Sam says, keeping his voice calm, but still deadly serious. "Tell me what happened, everything."
He keeps his eyes on her, everything about his posture and face portraying that he'll believe anything she tells him, as long as it's the truth.
"I heard-" she pauses, corrects herself, still unsure, "I thought I heard, um, there was this voice."
Sam nods encouragingly. "What did it say?"
She shakes her head, still unbelieving, but answers his question. "It said, 'come play with me.''
She heaves a sob, terrified. "What's happening?"
Back in the family archives, Dean hits the jackpot when he finds a photo album marked 'Jake – Age 12.'
He brings it into the room with Andrea and Sam, setting it on the table in front of her.
"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?" Dean asks.
"What?" she responds, taken aback, but she looks again once she sees how serious Dean is. "Um, no, I mean, except that's my dad right there." She points him out. She adds, "He must've been about twelve in these pictures."
Dean turns to Sam.
"Chris Bar's drowning, the connection wasn't to Bill Carlton, it must have been to Sheriff."
Sam looks at the photographs. "Bill and the Sheriff, they were both involved with Peter."
"What about Chris? My dad? What are you talking about" Andrea asks, but Sam never gets to explain.
"Dean," Elena says, an undercurrent of urgency in her voice.
They all turn to see Lucas and Elena standing in the next room, Lucas with a tight grip on Elena's hand, staring out the window intently.
"Lucas? Lucas, what is it?" Dean asks.
He doesn't reply, just tugs Elena over to the front door, opening it and leading her out.
Dean looks at Elena who just shrugs helplessly.
He looks back at Sam and Andrea, who look just as confused, so they go to follow them out the door.
Lucas, honey?" Andrea calls after her son.
He doesn't reply, he just keeps tugging Elena on with him across the yard and into a small clearing in the trees, the others trailing after them.
He stops at a particular spot, looks up at Elena imploringly, and then back down at the spot in front of them. Dean steps forward in front of them, and Lucas looks up at him too.
"Elena, take Lucas and Andrea back to the house, okay?" Dean asks.
Elena nods, gently guiding Lucas towards his mom while Sam steps forward to stand beside Dean.
It doesn't take them very long to find shovels, and then they start to dig.
It takes them barely any time to dig it up.
"Peter's bike," Sam says.
"Who are you?" is asked followed by the distinct sound of a gun's safety unclicking.
Dean and Sam turn to see the Sheriff.
"Put the gun down, Jake," Sam says patiently.
"How did you know that was there?" he asks, ignoring Sam's request.
"What happened, you and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and then buried the bike?"
Dean on the other hand, doesn't seem to be up to playing nice or patient.
"You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried."
Andrea and Elena are watching from inside. When Elena sees the gun she immediately heads for the door.
"Go to your room, sweetie, now. Lock the door and wait for me," Andrea tells Lucas. "Don't come out."
With that last command, she follows Elena out the door.
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Jake says grimly, so used to denying the truth, even to himself, that he can't bring himself to stop now.
"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago," Dean replies instantly, refusing to put up with his bullshit. "That's what the hell we're talking about."
Elena arrives. "Put the gun down, Sheriff," she says, causing Jake to look over at her.
"Dad," Andrea yells, running up behind her, moving in front of Elena as quickly as she can.
"And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit," Dean continues on, his jaw hardening when Jake's gun hand twitches, like he's going to point it at Elena instead, luckily Andrea's presence seems to stay the action.
"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love," Sam says. "It's gonna drown them, and it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt."
Jake's gun lowers a fraction of an inch, so Sam continues.
"And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does."
Jake sneers. "Yeah, and how do you know that?"
Sam's response is instantaneous.
"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton."
Elena jumps in, clearly seeing that Jake isn't willing to believe them.
"What's more important, keeping your secret or protecting your family?" she asks.
Dean shoots her a look, annoyed that she's drawing Jake's attention back to her, but Andrea's presence seems to prevent her father from pointing the gun on Elena, so he holds his peace.
"You can't take anything back, not what you did back then, not all the years you lied, and if you don't start telling the truth you won't be able to take back what will happen to them because of it."
Elena's voice is steady, lulling almost, and underneath there is a current of pain so intense it take Sam's breath away, dragging him towards all the dark thoughts he tries so valiantly to avoid.
Jake stares at her for a long time, mouth agape.
"We need to find the remains, salt and burn it," Dean says. "Tell me you buried him, tell me you didn't let him go in the lake."
"Dad, something tried to drown me, tell me this isn't true, tell me you didn't kill somebody," Andrea says, pleading.
Jake doesn't take his eyes off of Elena, seemingly turned to stone by her words. Before he can compose himself, explain that it was an accident, just an accident, just stupid, terrible kids not understanding the limits of the human body, he sees something out of the corner of his eye.
He's the first to see the small grey-clad figure down by the lake. The next second he is in the water, under the surface before anyone can blink.
"Lucas," he screams, already sprinting after him, the rest of them hot on his heels.
He is stopped short by the sight of Peter's decaying form in the lake, seeing becoming believing in an instant.
Sam and Dean sprint straight past him, Elena and Andrea at their heels.
Dean doesn't hesitate to dive in after him, Sam following after him immediately.
Andrea stops to take off her jacket, giving Elena just enough time to grab her around the waist and haul her back.
"Let me go, let me go, let me go," Andrea chants. "That's my son, let me go!"
Elena refuses.
"It wants you too," Elena reminds her. "It wants you too and it will just make it harder for them if they're trying to save both of you, they need to focus on Lucas. It wants you too, Andrea. Let them save him."
Her words finally seem to get through to Andrea, because she goes limp in her arms. Elena slips her arms around her shoulders, switching from restraint to comforting in seconds, Andrea sags against her.
Elena holds her breath, tries not to remember the feeling of drowning, tries to focus on Andrea to prevent the hysteria from welling up inside her.
Dean is in the water, and Elena remembers drowning.
A splash off to right gives her something to focus on, and Elena turns almost gratefully.
Jake is in the water now, wading in.
"Peter, if you can hear me, Peter please, I'm sorry," he says, begging. "I'm so-I'm so sorry."
"Dad, Daddy no," Andrea says, but she stays in Elena's arms.
"Lucas, he's just a little boy. Please, it's not his fault, it's mine. Please, take me."
Dean and Sam resurface empty-handed.
"Jake, no!" Dean yells as soon as he catches sight of him in the water
Jake ignores him.
"Just let it be over!"
He gets his wish, Peter pulls him under.
Dean dives back under just as Sam surfaces, shaking his head at Andrea and Elena on the shore to indicate that his unsuccessful attempt.
Andrea starts to sink to her knees, pulling Elena down with her just as Dean comes up with an unconscious Lucas in his arms.
Elena is standing out at the end of the docks, staring at the lake deep in thought. Sam can't help but think that it's almost like they're in conversation, the girl and the lake.
Dean is at the opposite end, watching her patiently, waiting for her to come back, Sam comes up to stand beside him.
"What happened to her?" Andrea asks from behind both of them.
Dean turns back, seeing the curious expression on both of their faces, he sighs.
"Elena's parents drowned in a lake when she was a teenager," he says grimly. "They were driving her home from a party, went off the bridge, she was the only survivor."
Sam inhales sharply, suddenly understanding Elena's reaction to the bridge back in Jericho, how much this particular case seemed to affect her.
"That's terrible," Andrea says sympathetically.
Dean shakes his head. "That's not the end of it, little over a year later, Elena was in another accident on that bridge, she was plunged back into the lake where her parents died. Not really the kind of thing you just get over."
"Jesus," Sam says numbly.
"Yeah," Dean agrees. "All things considered, I think she handled all of this pretty fantastically."
Sam nods emphatically.
"She's incredibly brave," Andrea says, clearly agreeing.
Dean smiles and nods. "Bravest person I know."
Andrea looks back at the house. "I want to thank her, thank all of you properly, before you go, but I need to get back to Lucas," she says. "Please, let me know when you're leaving."
They both nod.
"Of course," Sam says.
She heads back inside.
Dean and Sam turn back to Elena.
"After the second accident, that's when she left with you and Dad?" Sam asks.
Dean nods. "Yeah, she was pretty messed up afterwards, physically she was fine, barely a scratch on her, but, I don't think she ever stopped believing she was to blame for all of it."
Sam has nothing to say to that, can't formulate words, but Dean barely seems to be paying attention to him.
Dean starts down the dock suddenly, incapable of waiting any longer.
"Relax, Winchester, I'm fine," Elena says, beating him to the punch.
"You sure?" he asks. "You know it's okay if you aren't, it's always okay."
She shakes her head at him fondly.
"I'm okay," she reassures him.
She turns back to look at him, and there's a daring glint in her eye.
Sam is halfway to them when she reaches for the hem of her shirt, defiantly pulling it up over her head.
"Elena," Dean says warningly, but he's laughing too, and her shoes are off, she's wiggling out of her jeans.
Sam is honestly lost, doesn't understand until she's down to her underwear and diving into the lake without hesitation.
Dean understands though, Elena hates anything that holds her back, particularly fear, and she's almost foolhardy about facing her fears sometimes, like diving into a lake wearing barely anything in the middle of November kind of foolhardy.
Sam stops beside his brother.
"What is she doing?" Sam asks.
Dean shakes his head, still laughing.
"She's got this thing about challenges," he says like that explains it all.
"Yeah?" Sam asks.
"She can't resist 'em."
Elena surfaces, spins in the water to face them and gives Dean a look he recognizes all too well.
He sighs, kicks off his shoes, already unbuttoning his shirt.
"Hell, I can't either."
He dives in after her and Sam can do nothing but laugh in disbelief.
He sits down at the end of the dock, not quite as enthusiastic about the idea of diving into cold water with them just to prove a point.
"God, they're fucking weird," he says to no one in particular.
tbc.
AN: Chapter Title from Raise the Dead by RAIGN. This is one of those songs that as far as I'm concerned should be on Elena's official playlist, which is appropriate considering this episode has the same title as another song that belongs on the official Elena playlist.
Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Drop me a line!
xoxo
-Pixie