Title: A Lung Full of Water, A Face Full of Grief (1/1)
Pairing: Sam, Dean, Andrea, Lucas
Summary: 'The simple fact that he had been there one second and gone the next was enough for his inner devout counting to stumble and falter.' It nearly didn't end quite so well. The missing scene.
Spoilers: Dead In The Water
Disclaimer: Not my show or my boys. Not for profit.
A Lung Full of Water, A Face Full of Grief
Sam was struck by how petrified and frozen Andrea was. She had just witnessed her father being dragged to his self-sacrificial death right in front of her and now, her young son, Lucas, had appeared to have been lost to the unknown depths of the lake he was now in.
And all he could do was shrug helplessly at her.
That was when Dean suddenly appeared, breaking the murky surface greedily, like an avenging angel. Sam was trapped between the fleeting relief and happiness that crossed Andrea's face and filled her eyes and the sight of his brother gasping for air as arms struggled to hold the young boy above the water. He immediately started moving towards them and found himself there in only a few strokes.
Sam reached forwards and took hold of the limp form from Dean.
"I got him."
He kicked and treaded water, dragging Lucas towards the pier, towards a mother in need of her son.
"Andrea, take him," he ordered as he pushed the bundle of heavy clothes, skin, and bones on to the platform.
Andrea's slim fingers grabbed at her son, fingers digging in as she pulled him up and away from Sam. There was just enough room for him to pull his own body up after them, legs heavy and hair dripping from soaked water.
"Oh God," Andrea murmured, watery eyes snapping up from Lucas to him. "He's not breathing."
Sam's fingers moved to the boy's neck, searching for a familiar thrum, head dropping to his mouth and chest in search of a breath.
Both, despairingly, missing.
"Please, do something," Andrea whispered harshly, voice begging and hopeful all at once.
But he already was – in a rushed mix of 911 calls, compressions, breaths and silent pleas to anyone who was listening.
During the second round of compressions, Sam looked up and away from the sight of an all too pale ten year-old, eyes darting around him. He tuned out Andrea, and instead focused on his own counting, seeking out Dean. He needed the familiar anchor, reassurance and the all-too commitment of protection from the dread he was sure to come.
He found him trying to tread water, head dipping under and then re-appearing with a cough and sputter.
Dean, hold on
He blinked once… twice… but this time round Dean wasn't there. Not anymore. The simple fact that he had been there one second and gone the next was enough for his inner devout counting to stumble and falter.
His breath quickened and his heart sped up. He scanned around him once more, hoping to have missed him the last time.
"Andrea," he ordered, hoping his voice didn't waver and give way to his emotions. "I need you to take over."
She didn't respond and he continued the compressions, not knowing where he was or should be in the cycle.
"Andrea!" he shouted, instantly regretting his harsh tone, but needing her to step up to the plate.
She flinched and he silently thanked his father for his military baritone and bite as her eyes connected with his.
"See what I am doing here, huh?" he asked, voice direct and firm as he nodded down towards the damp and motionless boy beneath them. "You know the drill, right? I want you to count to me, so I can hear you, and then I'll be back, o.k.?"
She nodded, as her hands hovered over his and he took the opportunity to pull his hands away abruptly, acutely aware of the importance of Andrea's compliance and ability. For one split-second of horror, Sam thought she was too panic-stricken to react, but then with a gasp her hands were there. Her voice was shaky but clear as she continued to count the compressions out loud.
With affirmation and a need to find his brother he stood quickly, scanning the lake once more, and then dived swiftly in, breaking the water direct and sharply.
To Sam's relief, it didn't take him long to find Dean at all as his eyes adjusted to the cloudiness being immediately drawn to a shadowed form. His shirt was puffed and blown out; making his body look as though it was suspended halfway between the surface and the lake's bottom by an unseen force.
He kicked downwards, reaching out to him, and gathered Dean's form into his left arm. With a kick upwards he used his right arm to help claw their way up to the dull light blinking blurrily above them. The jostling caused a stream of air and bubbles to fall from Dean's mouth.
When they finally broke the surface, Sam was not greeted by the silence that had met Lucas's penetration of the water, but by a painful cough and sputter that was a blissful relief to his ears.
"Take it easy," Sam panted. He held Dean's body close to his chest as his own head fell back and slapped the water. The adrenaline rush was waning and beginning to fade and he wanted nothing more than the exhaustion to claim him and let him float easily where he was but the feel of Dean's shuddering body against him and the breathless hitching of Andrea's voice caused him to lift his head quickly, shaking his brother as he did so.
"C'mon, just to the platform," he demanded, directing it to himself as much as to Dean. He felt Dean's head nod against him, as Sam tried to manoeuvre them both through a tangle of legs, coughing and hacking throughout it all.
Dean managed to clumsily grab hold of the wooden pier, keeping afloat while Sam pulled himself out, pants heavy and weighed on his legs.
"Here" Sam instructed, leaning over and grabbing hold of Dean's shaking arms. He heaved and pulled and then found himself unexpectedly falling back on to his backside when they were both safely out of the water. In any other situation he would have expected Dean to come out with smart and mocking comment.
Dean struggled up, surprisingly faster than Sam could react, swaying haphazardly for a few feet before slipping down to his knees. His left hand caught his fall while his right clutched at his chest.
"Stay down, Dean" Sam said, suddenly at his side. He reached around him as he pulled at his arm and took hold of Dean's full weight with his own.
Dean blinked and found himself on his back, breaths still laboured, hacks still violent and painful. Sam's cold hand was against his cheek. The lack of movement and time left him reeling with dizziness and disorientation.
"Lucas…" he coughed out breathlessly, hand snatching hold of Sam's wet t-shirt tightly. "See… to Lucas…"
He met Sam's concerned with his own direct stare. His brother's hand was still against his face and he felt another placed lightly over his still wildly beating heart. With the reassurance he needed, Sam nodded, and pulling away he scrambled back over to Andrea, knees hardly lifting from the ground.
Dean sank back to the flooring as he heard Sam murmur "Andrea, I'm here now."
His own hand went back to his chest, where Sam's hand had just been, palm pushing in deep at the pressure there. It felt like he had taken a mouthful of Pepsi that had been painful all the way down with trapped gas. He continued to rub as he listened to Sam's ministrations, and Andrea's desperate pleas, praying for blessed relief from a lung full of water and a face full of grief.
"Sam?" he wheezed painfully, lifting his head and shoulder when he could not here him anymore.
Their eyes met over Lucas's prone body. Sam bit his lip, eyes pleading, as he shook his head helplessly.
Dean let his body fall back sharply to the hard wooden platform. His bones jarred sharply within him and his chest tightened. He brought his right hand up to continue rubbing in the same spot while his fingertips of his left dug painfully into the wood at the injustice of it. He couldn't fathom why so many good people had to go through so much pain. But he had come to learn to expect nothing less.
Throughout it all, Sam did not stop. Even in the face of defeat. Atta boy.
He found it strangely calming. The steady and rhythmic presence of Sam's voice soothing him as he silently counted out the beats.
At least, if he focused on Sam, he might not have to hear Andrea's cries.
A/N: I was going to do 2 versions of this - a missing scene (a la' above) and one AU where... well whispers 'Lucas dies'. But I thought I could just leave it there and whatever takes your fancy, just go with it. I just didn't have it in me emotionally to tread into that aftermath emotionally at the moment, so if anyone would like to continue it, be my guess.
That's all folks!