Rule Thirty: Never go swimming in a lake covered in algae

"Hey Dean!"

The seventeen-year old looked up from behind the wheel of his Dad's 1967 Chevy Impala to see Ashleigh coming towards him from across the student parking lot.

Dean smiled at the girl from his Chemistry class and leaned an arm outside the car's open driver's side window.

"What's up?" he asked the girl.

"A bunch of us were thinking about heading to Keene's Lake for a few hours and I'd really like it if you decided to join us," Ashleigh said, smiling coyly.

Dean only hesitated for a second, taking in his classmate's silky blonde hair, clear blue eyes, sun-kissed skin, pouting mouth and well-developed chest.

"Sure," he replied nonchalantly, "I guess I can come over for a little while."

Ashleigh grinned, "Great, see you there."

With that, she flicked her hair back and turned, jogging across the parking lot. Dean watched her go, admiring her rear.

"Can I come too?" Sam asked from beside Dean as he started the car.

Dean frowned, "I don't know, Sammy. It's probably going to be boring, you know? Just a bunch of high schoolers goofing off and stuff."

What he didn't say was that he was hoping to score with Ashleigh and he didn't really want to have his kid brother hanging around.

"Please, Dean," Sam begged, "I won't bother you. You won't even know I'm there!"

"Wouldn't you rather stay at the motel and do homework or something?" Dean offered as they left the parking lot.

Sam shook his head, "There's no air conditioning in the motel room, remember?"

"I remember," Dean grumbled; just thinking about the stuffy room made sweat break out on his brow.

Glancing to his right, Dean saw his sibling looking up at him, hazel eyes pleading.

"Fine," Dean relented, "You can come along."

Sam grinned, "Thanks, Dean."

Just don't cramp my style, Dean thought to himself, fantasizing about Ashleigh as they returned to the motel.

W

The lake wasn't really a lake but an old quarry that had been flooded after it was deemed unusable in the nineteen-fifties. It was also the place to be. All the coolest kids in the small town of Keene, Florida swam in the quarry's deep waters despite their parents' warnings.

Dean navigated the narrow trail leading up to the old quarry carefully, the ground soft and overgrown with kudzu and mangrove roots.

Why anyone would think to try and dig a quarry in this area was beyond Dean. No wonder it had been abandoned.

Sam was leaning forward in the passenger's seat, straining against the seatbelt's chest strap and Dean felt a pang in his heart. Sam had difficulty making friends with kids his own age and he really just wanted to feel included.

The path ended in a make-shift parking lot; a half-dozen cars lined up haphazardly on the edge of the quarry.

As soon as Dean stopped the Impala he heard a familiar voice call his name.

Ashleigh was hurrying towards him, golden hair flying out behind her, dressed in a tiny pastel blue bikini that left little to the imagination and made her tan an even more striking bronze.

"I'm glad you decided to show up," she said as Dean exited the car, forcing his gaze to remain on her face and not drift lower.

"You look great," he offered.

Ashleigh giggled, "I've had this thing for years."

Dean grinned and turned at the sound of the squeak of the passenger's side door opening.

"Oh, this is my brother, Sam," Dean said, "He wanted to come along, I hope that's okay."

Ashleigh nodded, "Sure."

She only had eyes for Dean.

"C'mon," she encouraged, "Everyone's here."

Dean tested the waters and put an arm around Ashleigh's slim waist, smiling when she didn't move away.

W

Most of the popular kids from Dean's classes were here; lounging on the edge of the water, laughing, sunning themselves, making out, pulling bottles from the two plastic coolers someone had brought along.

"Want a beer?" Ashleigh offered and Dean, after a moment nodded. One drink wouldn't hurt.

While the girl fished the beer from a cooler, Dean looked around to see his brother standing on the edge of the quarry, peering into the algae-slicked water.

Dean returned his attention back to Ashleigh as she returned and handed him an ice-cold bottle, her fingers lingering for a long moment on his before breaking away.

"Let's go over here," Ashleigh led Dean to where a small group of boys and girls sat in a loose circle, drinking and chatting.

SPN

Sam looked over his shoulder and watched Dean go over to sit with some teens his own age and sighed.

He didn't know what he had expected. Of course he was going to be the only middle-schooler here. And did he really expect his brother to hover over him the whole time? He'd noticed the way his brother had looked at that Ashleigh girl.

Oh well, he guessed he should be glad Dean even let him tag along.

Sam crouched down and picked up a handful of pebbles, tossing them into the water, watching the algae retreat in a circular ring around the fallen rock, revealing clear water beneath the vegetable carpet.

SPN

"…Isn't as deep as it looks," Chet Bowers, star of the high school football team told Dean.

"Why's that?" Dean asked, sucking down his fourth beer.

"My Dad dove to the bottom of the lake," Chet announced proudly.

"Really?" his girlfriend, Patricia, commented, "You never told me that."

"You never asked, babe," Chet nuzzled Patty's neck.

"Chet's dad was captain of the swim team," Ashleigh told Dean, "Coaches the kiddoes at the middle school now."

"So how deep is the lake?" Dean asked, the combination of the humid Florida heat and the suds were making him feel pleasantly light-headed.

Chet grinned, "I'm not telling."

"Oh Chet," Patty began but he interrupted.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?"

"Is that a challenge?" Dean asked.

The star of the football team stood up and stretched his arms over his head.

"First one to touch the bottom and bring back a rock to the surface wins?" Chet bet and Dean nodded.

What Chet failed to tell Dean was that there was more than rocks underneath the quarry's surface. In the seventies, a down-and-out car salesman had destroyed his inventory by driving each of the vehicles in the lot into the quarry in the dead of night before taking the plunge himself. The next morning the man's body had been retrieved but it had been too expensive to remove all the sunken cars and so they remained, hidden beneath the green water, rusting and rotting away.

"You don't have to do this, Dean," Ashleigh put a hand on Dean's arm, "Chet's just trying to get to you."

He shook the girl's hand away; not one to back down to a challenge.

"It's fine," he assured Ashleigh, "Just a little friendly competition, right Chet?"

Chet nodded. The footballer really had no ill will but just wanted to show off in front of his friends.

The two teens walked to the edge of the quarry. Dean peeled off his t-shirt, jeans, boots and socks until he was wearing only his boxers. Chet did the same.

"Dean, be careful!" Sam was suddenly at his brother's side and Dean jumped; he'd forgotten his sibling was there.

"Don't worry, Sammy," Dean shoved Sam to one side, "I know what I'm doing."

His brother stumbled slightly from the strength of the push and peered up at him, his expression hurt. Dean ignored him, hoping Sam wasn't about to cry like a baby and embarrass him.

"C'mon Winchester! Quit stalling!" Chet egged on as he bent his knees and held his hands out in front in a diver's position.

Dean rubbed his palms together, "Anyone going to count?"

Ashleigh shook her head, arms crossed over her breasts.

"Three…two…one!" Patty cried and the two boys leaped into the water.

SPN

Sam leaned forward, biting his thumbnail nervously.

Normally he didn't mind water. He wasn't a very strong swimmer but he knew what to keep his head above water. He just didn't like that he couldn't see the bottom of this man-made lake.

The seconds ticked by and Sam grew more and more anxious as each one passed and his brother failed to resurface.

"Dean?" Sam asked even though he knew his brother wouldn't hear him.

"I knew this was a stupid idea," Ashleigh muttered loudly behind him.

Suddenly, with a great splashing and spluttering Dean breached the surface of the lake, hair plastered to his head and a cocky grin on his face.

"Dean!" Sam cried and backed up as his brother paddled to the edge of the quarry.

"Where's Chet?" Patty asked as Dean pulled himself up onto solid ground.

Dean shrugged, wiping a hand over his face as he stood, water dripping off his body in rivulets, cutting streaks through the green algae sticking to his skin.

Chet's girlfriend wrung her hands and stepped closer to the edge of the quarry.

A splash and a curse announced the football star's appearance.

"Winchester!" he snarled as he swam forwards.

"What happened?" Ashleigh asked, turning questioningly to Dean.

"He's pissed because I got to the bottom first," Dean grinned toothily.

"You did not!" Ashleigh exclaimed but Dean just reached out a hand that was curled into a fist, "It's not a rock but it is cooler."

He opened his fist to reveal a smooth, flat piece of glass the brown of a beer bottle.

"The water must have eroded it," Dean told her.

Ashleigh held up the piece of glass the size of a silver dollar and peered through it.

"You cheat!" Chet, huffing and puffing like an enraged bison, stalked up to Dean and shoved him in the chest.

"Chet!" Patty cried, "Don't!"

"I didn't do anything," Dean reached out and returned the other teen's shove.

"Dean!" Sam cried, standing behind his brother.

"Stop!" Ashleigh demanded.

Chet growled and threw a punch at Dean. The hunter however, saw it coming and moved to the side. His brother though, was not fast enough.

The older boy's punch missed Sam's head, Chet's fist swinging through thin air above his head but his momentum carried him right over the middle-schooler, tramping him and bowling him over and into the quarry.

"You asshole!" Dean growled and tackled Chet as the other boy teetered on the edge of the lake.

Straddling the footballer and throwing punches, blood surging in his ears, Dean barely heard Ashleigh when she called his name.

"Dean! Dean, stop! DEAN! Your brother!"

Mention of Sam stopped the rabid seventeen-year old dead and he looked around for his sibling, his alcohol-soaked brain slow to connect the dots.

"He's in the lake!" Ashleigh shouted and pointed.

Scrambling away from Chet, Dean peered over the edge of the quarry.

"Sam!" he cried, his heart hammering in his chest.

The only answer was a red bloom turning the green algae crimson.

Without thinking, Dean slipped into the water. Holding his breath, he opened his eyes to an emerald-tinged world hidden beneath the water. Knowing he had little time, Dean dove, forcing himself not to blink as he sought his younger sibling.

The further from the surface and the sunlight Dean swam, the darker it became, the skeletons of cars looming creepily in the gloom.

Dean's throat convulsed but he ignored it, he needed to find his brother. Deeper and deeper he swam until he spied the nearly ethereal glow of pale skin showing through the darkness. Kicking his legs, ignoring his lungs as they burned, begging for oxygen, Dean swam deeper and deeper until he was close enough to his sibling to touch. Sam lay on his back across the hood of some derelict car, its paint chipped off, a rough coating of rust furring its metal exterior.

Grabbing his brother by the arm, the seventeen-year old kicked off from the hood of the abandoned vehicle, an orange puff of rust floating up in his wake, and towards the surface, praying that he wasn't too late.

W

Dean had no time to savour the sweet, golden air as he surfaced. Instead, he roughly shoved his brother's prone body towards the edge of the quarry.

"Grab him," he gasped as Ashleigh reached out, tears standing out in her blue eyes, to drag Sam onto dry land.

"Is he okay, Dean?" Ashleigh asked as the seventeen-year old pulled himself up and went towards his sibling on his hands and knees.

The atmosphere had changed completely. Gone was the feeling of comradery and rebelliousness. No one said a word. All eyes were on the Winchester brothers. Even Chet, now sporting a black eye and swollen lower lip, looked humbled.

Dean leaned over his sibling and laid an ear against his chest.

"C'mon Sammy," he muttered, "C'mon."

There was a heartbeat, steady but weak.

Dean placed his cheek to his brother's mouth, feeling a slight, warm breath flowing.

"Dean," Ashleigh whispered, "His head."

The girl pointed and Dean gently lifted his brother's head by placing a hand against the back of his neck. An ugly, jagged gash ran from above the boy's temple, above the hairline nearly to the center of his head. Now that the thirteen-year old was out of the water, the wound was bleeding profusely.

"He needs a hospital, Dean," Ashleigh's voice broke in.

"I know that!" Dean snapped and gathered his unconscious sibling into his arms.

"Let's go," Ashleigh said, gathering up Dean's clothes from the ground.

"Not you," he argued but the girl pouted.

"Someone needs to drive you you're too drunk," she retorted.

Dean opened his mouth to argue but then closed it; there was no time to get into a fight about whether or not he should drive.

"Fine," he snapped, "Follow me."

W

If Dean hadn't been so worried about his brother he would have been impressed with how Ashleigh had taken charge of the situation.

Sitting on the front bench seat with his sibling's head on his lap, Dean pressing his discarded t-shirt to Sam's wound, he tried to figure out how they had come to this point.

He'd been all to happy to accept the invitation from Ashleigh to come party at Keene's Lake and would have eagerly gone by himself but Sam had insisted on coming alone.

Mistake Number One.

Sam was thirteen and could easily take care of himself; that wasn't the issue. But Dean, wanting to fit in with the cool kids, if only for a short time, had accepted the offered beverage even though none of them was old enough to drink.

It wasn't like he'd never had beer before. His father wasn't exactly a stickler for rules and as long as he didn't get sloshed, Dean was allowed to imbibe in a drink or two with John.

But, this afternoon, Dean had had more than just one or two beers. He couldn't exactly recall how many. He had a feeling that as soon as one bottle was empty, Ashleigh was pushing another into his hand.

That had been Mistake Number Two.

The last thing to go wrong had been Dean letting his ego get the better of him. He hadn't been angry, not very, at any rate, but the need to show off to the fairer sex, to display his superiority over jerks like Chet, had gotten out of control and he'd forgotten what his job was. Even though Sam was no longer a baby, there were still situations where he needed to be watched and Dean had completely forgotten that, whether it was the booze or his own overblown machismo or a combination of both, Dean knew he'd messed up big time.

Taking his eyes off his sibling had been Mistake Number Three.

John was going to be so pissed when he found out.

"We're here," Ashleigh's voice roused Dean from his thoughts and he looked through the windshield to see that they were, in fact, parked in front of the small hospital.

"Do you need help?" Ashleigh asked as Dean opened the passenger's side door.

He shook his head but she followed him inside anyway. A blast of frigid air-conditioned air, heavy with the scent of disinfectant greeted Dean and he shivered, only now realizing he was only wearing his boxers.

No time to be shy now. Sam needed help.

As soon as he stepped onto the tile floor, Ashleigh standing beside him, arms wrapped around herself, a nurse hurried over.

"What happened?" the woman asked, not even noticing the two teenagers' state of undress.

"We were swimming at the old quarry and he hit his head," Ashleigh spoke through chattering teeth.

The nurse cut eyes at the girl, "The quarry? Don't you kids know it's dangerous?"

Ashleigh nodded and looked down, sufficiently cowed.

"He's bleeding," Dean moved the t-shirt away from his brother's head and showed the nurse the wound.

The woman clucked her tongue and beckoned to Dean, "Follow me."

She led the two brothers through a set of double doors and into a small exam area with a number of beds each separated by a yellow and blue curtain on rods.

"Lay him down," the nurse instructed and Dean laid his sibling on his back on the clean white sheets.

"He's going to be okay, right?" he asked hesitantly.

The nurse said nothing as she removed the stained t-shirt from Sam's head and handed it back to Dean.

The older brother watched as the nurse cleaned the wound with saline, patted it dry with gauze and carefully shaved the hair around the area so the gash was clearly visible.

Next, the nurse took out suture threat and a needle.

Dean, knowing what came next, had to look away as the woman stitched his brother's head wound closed, his gorge rising.

"You can look now," the nurse said dryly and Dean turned to see the wound was now covered in a white bandage.

"We're going to keep him here to make sure he had no internal trauma," she told him, "A doctor will come in shortly to examine him. Now, you have some paperwork to fill out, young man."

Dean nodded and started towards the exit.

"Hold on," the nurse said and reached into a drawer beside the bed, pulling out a light blue hospital gown.

"You might want to put this on," the nurse held the gown out to Dean and, blushing, he accepted it, slipping his arms through and tying it up at the front.

W

Ashleigh insisted on staying with Dean until his dad arrived. Dean appreciated the girl's company but hoped she'd leave before John tore him a new one.

Sam had regained consciousness about forty-five minutes after entering the hospital and from his confusion and glazed eyes, it was clear he had a concussion.

Dean had wanted to stay with his sibling but the doctor had insisted the thirteen-year old needed rest and so Dean was exiled to the waiting room.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Ashleigh whispered, fiddling with the tie of her own hospital gown.

"For what? You didn't do anything?" Dean asked.

"I still feel guilty," Ashleigh continued, tears welling up in her eyes, "You're brother could have been really hurt."

"Shhh," Dean murmured, reaching up to put a hand on Ashleigh's cheek, "Sam's okay. He's been through worse, believe me."

The girl looked askance at Dean but he distracted her from voicing her question by gently kissing her lips.

He'd been planning on getting to first base with Ashleigh all afternoon but not exactly like this. She tasted like a combination of strawberries and ocean water from the tears staining her cheeks.

Dean was about to let himself go further when he opened his eyes and spied his father glaring at him from over Ashleigh's shoulder.

Pulling back quickly, Dean cleared his throat, "Hi Dad."

"What the hell happened, Dean?" John stalked forward, glowering.

"Uh… I'll see you later, Dean," Ashleigh stood quickly and hurried out of the waiting room, never mind that she come to the hospital in Dean's car.

"I leave you two alone for a couple of days while I'm on a case you I get a call saying Sam's in the hospital?" John snapped.

"It was an accident," Dean began, "We were swimming and Sammy got hurt and-"

John suddenly leaned forward, his nose nearly touching his eldest son's.

"Have you been drinking?" he asked in a deadly quiet tone.

It would do Dean no good to lie.

"Just a little," Dean admitted nervously.

John's eyes widened.

"You go out swimming God knows where and you're drunk?" John exclaimed, garnering the attention of other people in the waiting room, patients and staff alike.

Dean hunched his shoulders, "Can we talk about this later?"

"No, Dean," John growled, "We're going to talk about it now."

The seventeen-year old, humiliated, lowered his gaze.

"You're almost eighteen, Dean, you're supposed to be the responsible one! You're supposed to look after your brother! But no, you think it's perfectly fine to get drunk and go swimming."

"Sam didn't drink anything," Dean offered.

"So I guess I should be glad you're not pressuring your brother, who is also underage, to drink alcohol, well, congratulations, Dean, I'm so proud of you!"

Dean felt his cheeks start to burn and his eyes sting but before anything could come of it, a voice sounded from behind John.

"Are you Sam Winchester's father?" a short, fine-boned older man of Chinese descent asked, peering up into John's face.

"Yes," the hunter answered, "Is he going to be all right?"

The doctor bobbed his head, "Oh yes. He does have a concussion and I'd like to keep him overnight just for observation, and he does have a large laceration to his head but other than that he is fine. He is a very lucky young man."

"Can I see him?" John asked.

Again, the doctor nodded.

Dean followed at a distance as the doctor led his Dad to Sam's room.

John stepped right up to his youngest son's bed and laid a hand on the uninjured side of his head.

Dean, standing in the doorway, heard his father mutter something to his brother but he couldn't make it out.

"I'm fine, Dad," Sam replied, sleepily, "Really, Dean saved me."

The seventeen-year old felt his eyes prick again but this time with different tears.

John took a seat in the blue plastic chair set aside for visitors. Dean, meanwhile, decided to leave his brother and father alone and get out of his hospital gown.

Author's Note:

Rules brought to you by StyxxsOmega.

Thanks to hectatess, BloodforInk, VegasGranny, Mama's Stories, BranchSuper, I Am A Diference Maker, reannablue, jensensgirl3, Dragonsrule18, StyxxsOmega and Guest for reviewing.

Some points to mention:

Dean is driving the Impala in this story because, at 16 he got his driver's license and John gave him the Chevy. John, meanwhile is driving that large black truck we see him with in the show.

I know that Florida probably isn't the best place to build a quarry but that's why it failed. Also, please just suspend your disbelief before writing me angry comments.

Finally, not all nurses can stitch wounds. They need to be trained. For the sake of keeping this story concise, Sam's nurse has been trained to suture.

Please take a moment to leave a comment and/or a rule for the Winchesters!