(no subject)

[longsufferingly]

Title: Back In Black [Dead In the Water 1/?]
Author: chash
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Past Sam/Dean.
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: AU, non-related Winchesters.
Word Count: 1700 words.
Summary: Is a series of drownings in a Wisconsin lake the work of a vengeful spirit?
Notes: THEN. Also, first time actually really stealing the plot of an existing episode. FUN TIMES??
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.


"I don't want to see Bobby," says Sam petulantly.

"Why the hell not?" asks Dean. Sam is being an illogical little bitch. Which, granted, isn't anything new. Sam's always been pretty bitchy. But he's never minded Bobby.

"This--Jesus, Dean, it's my dad."

"Exactly," says Dean. "We want to figure out what did this, right? And I dunno about you, man, but I am shit out of ideas. Bobby wants to know what the hell happened anyway. He knows where I was going. He's getting worried I died."

Sam looks at him sharply. "You haven't talked to him?"

Dean shrugs, uncomfortable. "You told me you didn't want me to."

"Not about dad. But you can still talk."

"Yeah," says Dean, "that'll go over real well. Hey, Bobby! Let's talk about everything except the case you just sent me on. Why not that? Oh, right. Because Sam Winchester is a little bitch."

He hadn't actually meant to say that, but it's a good point anyway, so he just keeps looking defiantly at Sam.

Sam slumps down, looking a little defeated. "I know," he mutters. "I know."

"Seriously," says Dean, "I thought you liked Bobby."

"Yeah," says Sam, pushing his hair back. "But--this is family, Dean."

Dean laughs, a little hollowly. "Right. Family. You want me to go, then?"

"Of course not," says Sam. "You're family."

Dean bites back a since when, because he knows exactly what date Sam would tell him. "Well, Bobby's my family."'

Sam rubs his eyes. He looks tired and older than Dean's ever seen him. "Yeah. Yeah. God, I'm--this is all still new for me. Or old, I guess. Unfamiliar."

Dean looks away. "Yeah. Look, go lie down, man. You're pretty much dead on your feet. I'll call Bobby, fill him in."

Sam nods gratefully and shuffles off, collapses onto the bed. Dean ignores the way his shirt rides up, the patch of skin that shows. Ignores the differences from when Sam was younger, the similarities, and doesn't think about it at all.

He lets himself out of the room into the cool night air and dials Bobby.

"Dean!" says Bobby, picking up before the first ring even finishes. "Where the hell are you?"

Dean leans against his car, feeling small and overwhelmed. He hates that feeling. "Virginia," he says. "With Sam Winchester."

"Christ, kid," says Bobby. "You like getting your heart broken?"

Dean rubs the bridge of his nose. "It's not like that. It's--shit, Bobby, it's his dad. What was I supposed to do, not tell him?"

"Yes!" says Bobby. "He said he was done with this, Dean."

"He lied," says Dean. "Since he's in Virginia with me and not in California."

"Don't let him screw you over again," Bobby says gently. "And don't let him stop you answering your phone. I thought you were dead!"

"Not me," says Dean. "But John is."

Bobby lets out a long breath into the phone. "When?"

"About a week ago," says Dean. "Burned up in a ceiling fire."

"Just like Mary," says Bobby.

"Just like Mary," agrees Dean.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because Sam didn't want me to," says Dean. "He's pretty shaken up."

"Christ," says Bobby. "What are you doing in Virginia?"

"John left coordinates," says Dean. "New Jersey. We just finished there."

"Find anything?"

"Jersey devil. Ripped out a hunk of Sam's shoulder. Other than that? Nothing. I think it was just another hunt."

"He must've been after what killed Mary," says Bobby. "But I don't know how he found it."

"Yeah," Dean agrees. "Neither do we. But you've got a lot more contacts than we do."

"You've got all the contacts you need, Dean," says Bobby. It's an old argument. "If you'd just apologize."

"Yeah," says Dean. "Sure. Have you met my mother? She's not exactly all about love and peace and forgiveness."

"You could try," says Bobby.

"Whatever," says Dean. "Look, I can take over whatever hunt you're on. Can you just look into the John thing?"

"You taking it over, or you and Sam taking it over?" asks Bobby.

"Me and Sam, fine. Look, it's not a big--"

"It is a big deal, Dean. You remember who dealt with your drunk, depressed ass for months after he left?"

"I was not depressed," scoffs Dean. "Drunk, yes. Angry, yes. Not depressed."

"Dean," says Bobby.

"Nothing's happening, Bobby," says Dean. "We're over, okay? So just leave it alone."

"Hope you know what you're doing," says Bobby, resigned. He learned a long time ago that Dean's stubborn as all hell.

"Yeah," says Dean. "So, what've you got for me?"

"I was on my way out to Wisconsin," says Bobby. "Unexplained drowning. No body, no explanation. They did SONAR on the whole lake and nothing. And looks like it's not the first either."

"Okay," says Dean. "We're on it."

"You're okay, right?" asks Bobby after a pause.

Dean thinks of Sam, drunk and all over him, drunk and telling him he wanted him. Thinks of Sam hurt, Sam screaming. "Yeah. Fine."

"Anything else I need to know?"

Save Sam. And if you can't save him, you have to kill him.

"Nope," says Dean. "That's it."

*

Dean lets himself into the room as quietly as he can. Sam's passed out on top of his sheets, wearing only his boxers. Dean knows exactly what Sam's trying to do with this, knows what Sam wants to have happen.

The kid's dead to the world, though, so Dean feels okay taking a minute. He doesn't have to tell Sam he did it.

Sam's filled out, broad and strong and, yeah, really hot. His hair is as shaggy as it always was, his face as pinched and worried as ever, and Dean can't deny it, he's still in love with Sam Winchester. He's always going to be in love with Sam Winchester.

He grabs one of his own blankets, throws it over Sam, and goes to take a long shower.

It'll get better. He's sure it will.

*

"Unexplained drownings, huh?" asks Sam. "Guess it's as good as anything."

"What, you were looking for something more glamorous?" asks Dean.

Sam laughs crisply. "Yeah, that's it exactly, Dean. I got into hunting for the glory."

"Hey, chicks dig this."

"I think we've established my position on chicks."

"That just sounds dirty," Dean points out.

"Are we ever going to talk about us?" asks Sam quietly.

"No," says Dean. "No, we're not."

"I don't even know what I did," says Sam, and he sounds so young and broken that it's hard for Dean to not turn his head.

"Yeah, well," says Dean. "Ancient history. Current events? Drownings in Wisconsin. Get me the dirt."

Sam's quiet for a long minute. Then Dean hears the typing start. His eyes stay on the road, unwavering, watching the lines fly by.

*

The family is unhelpful, the sheriff is surly, and Dean is pretty sure this entire case is going to be a nightmare until he sees the hot girl.

Dean's never been like Sam; he's always had a healthy appreciation for a nice pair of tits, and he loves a good ass, regardless of what other equipment it comes with. He never flirted much with Sam around--even before he figured out what the confusing swirl of things he felt for Sam was, he'd always felt weird getting his game on in front of the kid.

But it seems like a really good idea now, just to prove to Sam that they're really over.

"Kids are the best," says Dean with a grin as they walk toward the hotel. He hears Sam snort.

The girl just raises her eyebrows at him, gestures to the motel. "There it is. Like I said, two blocks. Must be hard with your sense of direction," she adds, smirking at him. "Never being able to find yourself to a decent pick-up line." She waves before he has a chance to reply. "Enjoy your stay!"

And then she jogs off.

Sam, of course, starts laughing his ass off.

"Shut up," says Dean. Sam's supposed to be pissed, not laughing.

"Seriously, Dean," says Sam. "How out of practice are you at this flirting thing?"

"I flirt tons," says Dean, but it's not true. He can't remember the last time he really tried for anything that wasn't a one-night stand at a bar.

Except that he can. The exact date.

"Uh huh," says Sam. "Sure you do." He snorts again. "Kids are the best."

"They are!"

"You don't even like kids."

"Of course I do!"

"Name three children you even know," says Sam.

Dean's only valid response here is I liked you fine, but it's not helpful. Sam grins and heads into the motel.

"I'm thinking!" Dean yells.

*

Dean is never letting Sam get to the motel first again.

"Sam," he says. "This isn't funny."

"What isn't?" asks Sam from the bathroom.

"There's just one bed," says Dean.

"No, it's not funny," agrees Sam.

"I'm getting another room."

"There weren't any other rooms," says Sam.

"We'll see," says Dean.

"Dean," says Sam, coming out of the bathroom. "I don't bite."

"Yes, you do," says Dean, before he can think better of it.

"Okay, I won't bite unless you want me to," says Sam, smirking. "You really want to waste money on another room?"

"It's not even our money!"

"I promise I won't molest you in the night," says Sam, raising his right hand.

Dean glares. He doesn't have a credit card right now, which Sam damn well knows, and he really doesn't want to waste the cash on another room. "Fine," he says. "I'll get a cot."

Sam raises his eyebrows.

"We've got work to do," Dean says crossly. "Let's go."

"Whatever you say," says Sam.

*

"Andrea Barr," says Sam.

"Who?" says Dean.

"The woman you were hitting on," says Sam smugly.

"What about her?"

"Her husband was a victim," says Sam. "Drowned. Dragged the lake, no body."

"Huh," says Dean. He leans over Sam's shoulder, looks at the article. "The kid was there. No wonder he's so freaked."

Sam turns around, smirks at him. "This one's all you, Dean. You're the kid lover."

Dean glares at him. "Shut up."

"No, no," says Sam. "I'm looking forward to this. Seeing you work your magic."

"I liked it better when you were mopey and depressed," says Dean, and he almost means it.

Sam just keeps smirking at him. The bastard.

"Whatever," he finally says, turning away from Sam's stupid knowing look. "Let's just go find this kid."