Chapter Text
Welcome to Lake Manitoc, WI, the Impala sped right by the sign, past a woman hanging up her laundry outside and over a bridge with a man fishing from the side of it.
Before too long, the car came to a stop outside the house belonging to the Carlton family. Sam and Dean climbed out of the Impala, the former smoothing out his shirt as they approached the door. Dean knocked, placing a hand on the fake ID in his pocket.
Across the street, Sam caught sight of a young man, maybe a teenager by the looks of him, standing at a distance. He seemed to be watching the two of them, but as soon as he noticed Sam's gaze, he looked away and started walking down the road. Sam shrugged off the uneasy feeling of being watched as a young and healthy, albeit looking rather sad and sleep-deprived at the particular moment, man answered the door.
"Will Carlton?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer.
Will nodded. "Yeah, that's right."
"I'm Agent Ford," Dean told him before gesturing to his brother, "This is Agent Hamill. We're with the US Wildlife Service."
Dean brandished the ID that he'd been holding, and Will Carlton invited them in for a few questions. Shortly after, they found themselves standing at the lake with Will. Bill Carlton was already seated on a bench nearby.
"She was about a hundred yards out," Will told them with a frown, "That's where she got dragged down."
"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
Will nodded confidently. "Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub."
Sam stared off into the lake as he spoke, "So no splashing? No signs of distress?"
"No, that's what I'm telling you," Will sighed.
Sam continued asking questions. "Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?"
"No. Again, she was really far out there."
Dean glanced at the ground beneath them. "You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?"
Again, Will shook his head. Dean was beginning to feel like this conversation was a waste of his time. "No, never. Why? What do you think's out there?"
He shrugged. "We'll let you know as soon as we do."
Dean turned to head back to the car and find information elsewhere, but Sam spoke again before he made it very far, stopping him in his tracks, "What about your father? Can we talk to him?"
Will glanced over at his father for a moment and turned back to the pair with an unsure look. "Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."
"We understand," Sam told him with his best sympathetic smile. Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
The brothers started making their way over to the Impala, and Dean could've sworn he heard rustling in the trees surrounding the lake. He gazed in the sound's direction for a moment but couldn't catch any more movement besides a flurry of what seemed to be black hair. Based on a quick glance at his brother, it seemed like Sam had heard it as well.
"Dean, I think someone's following us," Sam told his brother as they both ducked into the car. "There was this kid, earlier at the Carlton house, watching us across the street. I'm thinking that was just him in the trees, too."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows.
"I thought he was just some curious neighborhood kid," Sam defended himself. "Wouldn't you be if a federal agency started knocking on your neighbor's door?"
Dean didn't answer the question and instead opted for, "If he's important, I'm sure we'll run into him again, Sammy. For now, though, we got a sheriff to talk to."
*****
Sheriff Jake Devins didn't seem as impressed with their fake identities as Will Carlton had been.
"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" He asked, staring at the two men as he led them to his office.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."
"Like what?" Jake gestured for Sam and Dean to take the seats facing his desk, standing behind the one at the desk. "Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake."
Sam and Dean obliged, the latter leaning back in the chair while Sam maintained a more respectable posture.
Jake continued, "There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."
"Yeah," Dean laughed at the idea, "right."
Sam gave Dean a disapproving glance, but Jake didn't acknowledge him as he kept speaking, "Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still—"
Jake finally took a seat of his own and sighed. "We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."
"That's weird, though," Dean argued, "I mean, that's—that's the third missing body this year."
With a solemn nod, Jake answered, "I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about."
"I know," Dean echoed the sheriff's response.
"Anyway," Jake took a deep breath, "All this...it won't be a problem much longer."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked before he could even consider the consequences.
Jake glanced at Dean like he could see right through him. "Well, the dam, of course."
"Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak," Dean tried for a smile, ignoring the glare from Sam that he could literally feel.
"It's falling apart," Jake corrected, "and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that."
"Exactly," Dean pretended he wasn't an idiot, ignoring the suspicious glance that Jake gave him.
Thankfully, a young woman entered the room before Dean had any more time to blow their cover.
She smiled sheepishly at the group. "Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later."
Sam and Dean both stood to greet the woman as Jake introduced her, "Gentlemen, this is my daughter."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," the eldest brother offered a hand that she shook firmly. "I'm Dean."
"Andrea Barr," she replied, "Hi."
"Hi."
Jake pointedly ignored whatever interaction those two were having as he explained, "They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake."
"Oh," was all Andrea mustered before a young boy appeared at her side, clinging to the woman who was presumably his mother.
"Oh, hey there," Dean smiled, unfortunately aware of the fact that his troublemaking grin had more allure with women than children who huddled around their mother's legs. "What's your name?"
Lucas walked away without a response, Andrea following in tow.
"His name is Lucas," Jake informed them.
Sam glanced at the young boy and his mother coloring in the other room and frowned. "Is he okay?"
"My grandson's been through a lot," Jake grimaced, "We all have."
Neither brother seemed to have anything else of significance to say, so Jake stood up and lead them both to the exit.
"Well," he began, "if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know."
"Thanks," Dean paused for a moment before asking, "You know, now that you mention it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"
Andrea answered as she walked over from where Lucas was still coloring. "Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south."
"Two—would you mind showing us?" Dean feigned stupidity, and it took every cell in Sam's body not to scoff and/or roll his eyes
"You want me to walk you two blocks?" She clarified with a small laugh of disbelief.
With a promise that the walk wasn't out of her way, Andrea said goodbye to her son and started leading Sam and Dean to the motel she'd mentioned.
"So," Dean awkwardly tried for conversation, "cute kid."
"Thanks," Andrea told him blankly as the three of them crossed the street.
"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean smiled, not catching the eye roll that Sam directed at him. Unfortunately, Andrea seemed to be pretending she didn't hear.
"There it is," she pointed at the motel in front of them, "Like I said, two blocks."
"Thanks," Sam told her, going a far less creepy route than his brother when it came to showing his appreciation.
Andrea offered him a smile before turning towards Dean. "Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line."
Then, without even waiting for a response, she continued her walk alone, calling out to tell them to have a nice stay once she was a fair distance away.
"'Kids are the best'?" Sam looked at Dean incredulously. "You don't even like kids."
"I love kids," Dean defended with a frown.
"Name three children that you even know."
Not receiving an answer, Sam waved off his brother and turned towards the motel but froze in his tracks, ignoring Dean's claim that he was still thinking. He caught sight of a figure that was becoming far too familiar recently for Sam and Dean.
"Dean, look," he pointed to where their teenage stalker was picking a lock on the upper floor of the motel.
Dean frowned. "Think he's got somethin' to do with these drownings?"
"One way to find out, I guess," Sam shrugged.
"You see the room number?" Dean asked, squinting as he tried to read it himself.
"212," muttered Sam, and Dean gave him a grin as they walked towards the entrance, pretending to ignore the boy as he finally got into the locked room.
Sure enough, the brothers walked back outside a few minutes later with the key to room 212 after Dean explained that "12 is my brother Sammy here's lucky number" despite the receptionist clearly not caring which room they occupied as long as they left her alone. Sam and Dean headed upstairs, pausing outside the door to pull out the pistols hidden in the waist of their jeans.
Dean looked at his brother with raised eyebrows and waited for Sam's nod before he threw open the door and the two of them stormed in with their guns to, unsurprisingly, find their mystery boy standing in the middle of the room, clearly startled by his visitors.
"Don't shoot!" He exclaimed, quickly throwing his hands up in surrender and looking frantically between the two guns pointed at him.
"Who the hell are you?" Dean barked.
"I...," the boy faltered as he seemed to finally get a good look at both of the brothers and frowned. "You two aren't John Winchester."
Very briefly, Sam and Dean exchanged confused glances before Sam asked, "Why are you looking for him?"
He seemed reluctant to share but gave in (probably because of the pistols pointed as his face) and said, "I think he can help me find my mother."
Something inside Sam ached at the feeling of familiarity. This kid was in the same boat as the two of them—missing their parent and chasing half-assed leads until they were found. Sam lowered his gun, ignoring the fact that Dean looked at him like he was crazy.
"I'm Sam," he introduced, nodding in Dean's direction. "That's my brother, Dean."
The boy was too busy staring down the barrel of Dean's gun to care much about what Sam had to say. "Could you maybe tell Dean to put that thing down?"
"Dean," Sam hissed at him. This was just a kid looking for his mom. It didn't seem like they were going to need to be shooting rounds at him anytime soon. "Come on, man."
With a threatening narrowing of his eyes, Dean obliged and slowly lowered the gun. The boy also lowered his hands at a speed that mirrored Dean's.
"What's your name, kid?" Dean asked.
"Percy," the boy offered hesitantly.
"Well, Percy," Dean glared, "I'm afraid you're not gonna get much help from ole Johnny."
Sam wanted to tell his brother to be a little gentler, but Percy seemed unbothered by the harshness. "Why not?"
"He's M.I.A., too."
Percy deflated at the statement, and there was a moment of incredibly awkward silence before Percy spoke up, "You don't have any idea where he is?"
"We're following his trail," Sam supplied, not really ecstatic the disclose to Percy that they had no clue where their father could be. "We think, at least."
Another silence. "Look, my mom...," Percy sighed, "she's all I got, so if you two don't have any information about where I can find John Winchester, just tell me so I can get out of here and stop wasting time chasing after nothing."
When neither brother responded, Percy nodded with a disappointed frown and started heading towards the door. "Maybe I'll see you guys around. Good luck with John."
"Hold on," Sam stopped the boy with a hand on his shoulder, much to Dean's dismay, "why would John be able to find her? Maybe we can help."
Dean kicked his brother in the back of the foot. Their dad was fairly well-known in the hunting scene—people thought he could help them with all sorts of things. This was probably just another kid who found John's number lying around and decided he was entitled to charity work from the man. They were too busy trying to find John and trying to find out what was drowning the townsfolk to entertain this kid's idea of a side quest. Percy didn't even have a gun on him. Dean doubted he was a hunter, especially at his age.
Percy studied Sam with an intense gaze, and something about it made Dean want to stand between the two of them, protect his brother. He held his composure, though. This random teenager couldn't do much to Sammy besides bruise his shins and maybe his ego if Dean was lucky.
After what felt like an eternity, Percy answered, "I think John is her brother."
"You've got the wrong guy," Dean replied.
"No, here," Percy pulled a photo from his pocket and gingerly unfolded it before passing it to Sam and allowing both strangers to look at it. "I found this in her stuff. That's him, right?"
And sure, the photo was probably at least twenty years old, but that was most certainly John Winchester smiling next to a teenage girl with an identical grin of her own.
"That's your mom?" Sam's voice was soft, puzzled.
Percy nodded, and the two brothers exchanged worried glances. Dean couldn't help but laugh a bit at the ridiculousness of it all. "Well, this changes a few things, doesn't it?"
"What are you talking about?" Percy reached for the photo, returning it to his pocket with furrowed eyebrows.
Sam's sigh was heavy before he answered, "John Winchester is our dad."
Percy's eyes went wide. "You're not fucking with me?"
For a moment, Dean looked like he forgot that teenagers had the ability to curse, but he quickly recovered and offered a smile that didn't hold much warmth. "Yeah," he scoffed, "welcome to the family."
"We're...cousins?" Percy seemed to be struggling a tad with the realization.
"Kid, I get that you're having a moment," Dean offered no help, "but something's going on in this town that Sammy and I gotta fix."
"Oh, I know," Percy replied, holding back his urge to laugh at the confusion on the brothers' faces. "Swimmers like Sophia don't just drown without someone noticing. Where are we headed?"
Dean barked a laugh, and although Sam opened his mouth to say something probably much nicer, Dean spoke sooner, "You're not coming. You're stayin' in this room until Sam and I are done. We can construct the family tree or whatever then."
"You said you were following John, right?" Percy asked, clearly rhetorically as he continued speaking, "There's gotta be some kind of connection to my mom. I'm coming."
"Percy, listen," Sam tried to reason with him, "we don't know why this is happening. It could be dangerous."
"I know, and quite frankly, I don't care," he told the brothers.
"Kid, how old are you?" Dean glared. "Like, fifteen, yeah?"
"I'm eighteen—"
"I'm thinking your mom won't be so happy if her son dies before he graduates junior high."
Percy rolled his eyes. "Well, we'll never know unless I find her, Dean, so I'm getting involved whether you like it or not."
Sam and Dean looked at each other. Clearly, neither of them were really on board, the latter actually miles away from the board, but they couldn't keep arguing in circles if they were on a time limit. With a reluctant sigh, Dean simply stated that he was going to get the Impala before walking out of the motel room.
*****
Unfortunately, neither Winchester brother seemed to be the talkative type so far. Sam handed him a journal while Dean was gone and told him to start looking for anything that could be responsible for the drownings before getting on his laptop and beginning his own research. Percy didn't have the heart to tell him that he could barely read English as is, much less whoever's chicken scratch handwriting he'd just been given, so he just withstood the headache as he stared at the pages and tried to decipher what any of them meant.
After what was basically an eternity to Percy, Dean came back with two duffel bags. Percy was beginning to wish that he'd packed something of his own like that, but he'd booked it out of New York as soon as his mother didn't answer the phone for the fifth time. Dean tossed one of the bags on the furthest bed that Sam was sitting on and set the other one on the opposite bed where he could only assume Dean was going to sleep. He unzipped his own bag and ruffled through it for a bit before pulling something out and turning to Percy at the desk across the room.
"You got one of these?" Dean asked, holding out the pistol for Percy to see. The younger man shook his head.
Dean made his way over to Percy with a condescending look on his face before offering him the gun. "You know how to use it, right?"
Not a clue. "Of course I do, jackass," Percy snatched the gun from his hand, glaring as Dean held up his arms in surrender.
Percy twirled the metal weapon around in his hands for a few moments, familiarizing himself with how it felt while Dean began sifting through his bag of clothing. He wished swords weren't an inherently odd first choice of weapon. Percy would love to be able to use Riptide in the real world, and even though Sam and Dean would probably just see a baseball bat or a metal rod, Percy didn't want to risk it, especially not when the pair could be his only lead as to where his mother went.
"So there's the three drowning victims this year," Sam focused their thoughts back on the case.
Dean nodded, "Any before that?"
As he scrolled on the computer, a frown overcame Sam's face. Percy watched from the corner as Sam opened tab after tab with a photo of the lake in each one. "Uh, yeah. Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."
Dean tossed a flannel onto the bed before turning to face Sam. "So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?"
"It can't be a lake monster," Percy's thoughts were spilling from his mouth before he even had time to comprehend them himself.
Dean frowned, heading over to look at the laptop on Sam's bed. "Why not?"
"Nobody's seen it," Percy shrugged, "and I don't think that lake is really big enough to hide a monster with enough strength to drown people without being noticed like this thing's doing."
"He's got a point," Sam gave him a nod, "Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it."
Sam continues scrolling through the news article he has pulled up until Dean points at the screen with a thoughtful gaze. "Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?"
"Christopher Barr, the victim in May," Sam read off the page before his eyes widened in recognition. "Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued...maybe we have an eyewitness after all."
"No wonder that kid was so freaked out," Dean frowned half heartedly. "Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over."
It upset Percy that he could name more than one person who would've agreed.
*****
Percy hadn't been to a park like this in gods know how long. Kids littered the jungle gym and surrounding area, screaming and giggling playfully while their parents watched in the distance. The trio approached one woman in particular who Percy had to assume was Andrea Barr based on the brief recap of the brothers' work so far on their drive to the park.
"Can we join you?" Sam asked as the three approached.
"I'm here with my son," she frowned at them.
Percy followed her gaze over to a small boy across the park using a bench as a coloring table with toy soldiers surrounding his work. He tried to ignore the feeling of deja vu—he, too, spent many days alone on the playground as a child. "Mind if I say hi?"
"Who are you?" Andrea questioned.
Thankfully, Sam answered before Percy had to come up with a lie on his own. "He's an intern. They wanted to get him some field experience."
Andrea still seemed a bit wary of sending a stranger over to speak with her child, so Dean ever so bravely offered to accompany Percy. Yes, Andrea let out an annoyed sigh, but she did seem less anxious about the discussion as Percy and Dean walked over to where Lucas was sitting.
"You're not subtle," Percy commented, looking incredibly unimpressed.
"And you're socially inept," Dean glared. "You can't just talk to kids whose parents haven't even seen you before."
He received a shrug in response. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Yeah, 'cause I saved your ass," Dean scoffed.
They ran out of time to chat as they finally approached Lucas. Without a moment's hesitation, Percy sat himself on the ground at Lucas's side, not too close that kid would be uncomfortable, but just close enough to share the bench. Dean knelt down behind Percy soon after.
"How's it going?" Dean greeted Lucas, unsurprisingly getting ignored.
Dean never really knew what people meant by seeing the gears in people's heads turn until he spared a glance at Percy. Something was definitely grinding up there. Percy gingerly picked up one of the toy soldiers scattered around them.
"Oh, I used to love those things," Dean grinned, mimicking some gun and explosion noises before being met with another unimpressed look from Percy that was clearly telling Dean to shut up. The younger of the two leaned over to investigate Lucas's pile of drawings. One was simply a black swirl that took up most of the page, and the other depicted a red bicycle.
"These are pretty good, Lucas," Percy offered the compliment softly, "You mind if Dean and I sit and draw with you for a while?"
With a cautious hand, Percy seemed to decide that the answer was yes as he grabbed two blank pieces of paper from the stack and handed one over to Dean with a couple of crayons. He moved a tad closer to Lucas to give Dean space to draw on the bench.
"Yours are definitely better than anything I can make," Percy smiled, pressing the tip of a blue crayon to his paper, "but it's fun anyway, you know?"
"I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk," Percy continued but didn't take his eyes off the picture he was currently drawing. "I know something bad happened to your dad out on the lake. I think I know how you feel. My dad got lost out on the ocean when I was a kid. Kind of different, kind of the same...but I get it. And now...well, I've seen a lot of crazy things."
Percy paused, switching out his blue crayon for a green one. "Look, I know maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. Nobody ever believed me, but I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake, if that's easier."
There was another two minutes or so of silence before Percy set down his crayon and sighed. "Okay, no problem. These are for you. Dean."
Percy looked over at him expectantly, already handing his own drawing over to Lucas. Dean caught sight of a poorly drawn sea turtle and forced back a laugh. He didn't want to discourage Lucas from being an artist or anything like that, of course. Instead, Dean offered over his own artwork. It consisted of four stick figures that, looking at them now, were no better than Percy's work.
"This is my family," Dean told Lucas, pointing at each figure as he listed them off, "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me."
After a particularly awkward pause, Dean gave up on his attempts to save the kid's dreams and admitted his faults. "Alright, so I'm a sucky artist. We'll see you around, Lucas."
Dean stood, offering Percy a hand and pulling him up when the younger man accepted. They waved to Lucas as they made their way back over towards Sam and Andrea.
"That was some real art you made back there, Picasso," Dean teased with a grin.
Percy rolled his eyes, but Dean didn't miss the slight smile that appeared on his face. "Whatever. At least my turtle had a real body."
Before Dean could defend his artistry, they stepped within earshot of the other two and had to act serious again.
"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident," Andrea explained to the group.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, we heard. Sorry."
Sam spared a glance in Lucas's direction. "What are the doctors saying?"
"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress," Andrea frowned.
"That can't be easy," Sam sympathized, "For either of you."
Andrea nodded in response. "We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..."
"Kids are strong," Percy spoke up with a comforting smile after a pause. "You'd be surprised what they can deal with, especially when he's got someone like you looking out for him."
Percy looked over his shoulder and caught Lucas abandoning his spot at the bench, only turning back around when Andrea started talking again, "You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now, he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—"
Lucas appeared at his mother's side with a drawing in hand.
"Hey, sweetie," Andrea greeted sweetly.
He didn't spare his mother a look before holding up the photo to Percy, who accepted the paper gingerly. He smiled at Lucas. "Thanks. Thank you, Lucas."
To nobody's surprise, Lucas didn't say anything, but Percy could've sworn he saw the ghost of a smile on the kid's face, and that was enough for now. He glanced down at the drawing, turning it towards Sam and Dean so that all three of them could look. It seemed to be a picture of the Carlton house.
"Well, we better get going, Andrea," Dean smiled at her. "You know where to find us if you need anything."
*****
Percy felt slightly ill when they were back in the motel later, but he brushed it off, just like he had every other time it'd happened in that town so far. He guessed it had something to do with the people drowning, but considering he currently felt like he could vomit and then pass out, he hoped that wasn't the case. Thus, he sat at the desk once again, resting his head in his arms and screwing his eyes shut. Dean had given him a couple of concerned glances from where he was sitting on the bed but, thankfully, didn't comment about it.
Percy's concerns were solidified when Sam came back to the room and stated, "So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie."
Resisting the urge to groan, Percy reluctantly picked his head up to listen.
"What do you mean?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows.
Sam made his way over to his brother on the bed. "I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."
"He drowned?" Percy clarified.
"Yep," Sam gave both of the others a grim look "In the sink."
Well, Percy supposed that confirmed why he felt like he could be on the brink of death. He'd never really felt people drowning so aggressively, though. Why here, in Wisconsin of all places?
"What the hell?" Dean frowned. It deepened when he looked over at Percy. "Seriously, kid, are you alright?"
When Sam finally noticed something was wrong, he wore an expression that matched Dean's. Percy nodded, even standing up and walking over to them despite the queasiness that intensified when he moved. Neither of the brothers looked very convinced, but Percy spoke before they could make any comments, "So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."
"Yeah, but what?" Sam wondered how Percy was so willing to accept that something else was killing people if he wasn't a hunter. He'd nearly forgotten that they literally had to provide Percy with a gun earlier. Maybe they'd misjudged him.
Dean also seemed to forget that Percy wasn't a hunter as he started listing possibilities. "I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."
"The lake," Percy noted.
Dean gave him a nod. "Yeah."
Percy continued, "Which would explain why it's upping the body count. 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."
Unfortunately, Percy had a strong feeling he knew exactly what this thing wanted—to kill, to get revenge. On whom for what, he didn't know, but the vengeful feeling coming from the water seeped into Percy's own emotions. He was not happy about it.
"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere," Dean sighed, standing from his spot on the bed and assuming Percy's seat at the desk instead. "This is gonna happen again soon."
"And we do know one other thing for sure," Sam said with a hint if optimism, "We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."
"Yeah, it took both his kids."
"And I've been asking around," Sam responded, "Lucas's dad, Chris—Bill Carlton's godson."
Dean grimaced. "Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."
Sam stood, and Percy went to follow but only got about two steps in before his head starting spinning and his vision started going black. Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder, making Percy flinch at the contact.
"You really don't have to come, y'know," Dean raised an eyebrow. "I don't think your mom's gonna be wrapped up in this case anymore."
Once Percy's vision finally cleared enough for him to find Dean's eyes, he looked into them as he answered, "I'm fine. I'm coming with you, alright?"
Dean narrowed his eyes but clearly decided it wasn't worth the trouble and gestured for Percy to follow Sam out the door before doing so himself.
*****
"Mr. Carlton?" Sam said as the three approached the man sitting on an old bench on the dock. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."
Dean continued when they received no response, "We're from the—the Department—"
"I don't care who you're with," he was cut off by Bill Carlton, "I've answered enough questions today."
Sam persisted, "Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? 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. It's...it's worse than dying," Bill sighed. "Go away. Please."
The three hunters (well, two and whatever the hell Percy was) exchanged looks before silently heading back to the car.
"What do you think?" Sam asked the others.
"I think the poor guy's been through hell," Dean briefly sympathized before lowering his voice, "I also think he's not telling us something."
Sam leaned against the Impala. "So now what?"
He looked between the two, waiting for one of them to have a brilliant idea, but all he got was Percy staring ahead at something.
"What is it?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows, following Percy's line of sight to the Carlton house.
"Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something," Percy said with a shrug, unfolding a paper from his pocket until it revealed Lucas's drawing from earlier before holding it up for the brothers to compare.
The Carlton house.
*****
"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea," Andrea told the group as she walked them through the lower level of the house.
Percy frowned. "I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes."
"He won't say anything," Andrea argued, "What good's it gonna do?"
Sam tried to explain, "Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there."
"My husband, the others, they just drowned," Andrea said with a hint of finality. "That's all."
Dean sighed. "If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let us talk to your son."
With a deep sigh, she led the trio upstairs to Lucas's bedroom and gestured for them to enter. It was a very similar scene to the park, Lucas coloring with toy soldiers overtaking the floor. Dean gave Percy's shoulder a light shove, clearly telling him to be the one to talk to the kid again.
"Hey, Lucas," he greeted quietly, crouching down at Lucas's side. "You remember me?"
Silence, as per usual. Percy looked at the growing pile of red bicycle drawings with a quizzical expression before speaking again, "I, uh, I wanted to thank you for your last drawing, but I need your help again."
Percy got out the picture of the Carlton house again, laying it flat for Lucas to see. "See, I kept it...How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen?"
Lucas just continued coloring and, albeit slightly frustrating to receive no intel from this kid unless it was through a picture, Percy couldn't help but see himself again. It was so unnerving, being a child who nobody believed. After being told he was imagining things over and over, it sometimes felt easier to just keep his mouth shut. Nobody listened, anyways, so what was the point?
"You're scared. It's okay. I understand. When I was your age, I saw all kinds of terrifying stuff, and I was scared, too. My teachers didn't believe me...I didn't feel like talking, just like you," Percy felt a tinge of sadness at his own words as he continued, "but see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe...maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too."
Lucas set down the crayon he was using and handed his drawing over to Percy. It was a white church next to a yellow house with a young boy in the foreground. He had a blue baseball cap and the same red bicycle that Lucas had been drawing over and over again.
Percy offered a smile. "Thanks, Lucas."
*****
Sam held Lucas's drawing contemplatively from his spot in the passenger seat of the Impala.
Dean commented, "Andrea said the kid never drew like that 'till his dad died."
"There are cases," Sam shrugged, "going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies."
Percy had enough prophetic dreams to know Sam was telling the truth.
"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" Dean guessed, sighing when neither of the other two replied, "I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please."
Sam shook his head. "Alright, we got another house to find."
"There's, like, a billion of these yellow two-stories in this county, though," Percy frowned. "I can count three from here."
Sam took another look at the photo, tilting his head at it. He pointed to the building next to the house. "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."
"Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart," Dean teased.
Percy wondered how in the world Sam ever went to college when he lived a life like this. Then again, he could've gone to college despite the absolute shit show that was his own life. He often found himself wondering where he'd be now if he had chosen to go that route...probably not hunting down a monster in Wisconsin with his two long-lost cousins.
"You know, Percy," Sam turned to look at him in the backseat, "all that stuff you were saying about seeing things as a kid..."
"Yeah, what was that about?" Dean glanced at him through the rearview.
Gods, lying came a bit too easy to Percy these days. "Well, now I know what I was really seeing. I guess I just always had an eye for this kind of stuff, and when a kid walks up to you insisting they saw a monster on the other side of the playground...you just kind of brush 'em off."
He received a nod from Sam, but Dean looked like he knew there was something else. Dean had seemed wary of him since they barged into that motel room with their guns aimed right towards him, and it hadn't gone away yet. Percy really needed him to back off—it was incredibly distracting when you were worried about your estranged family member shooting you dead out of the blue.
"Sounds rough, kid," Dean finally responded before shifting the Impala into drive.
*****
After a surprisingly short amount of time, the three men arrived at the white church and yellow house that were in Lucas's picture. They decided to approach the house first to see if anyone was home.
Dean gave the door a few good pounds and waited until an old woman appeared in the doorway, looking amongst the three questioningly.
"We're sorry to bother you, ma'am," Dean gave her a friendly smile as she invited them inside the house, "but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle."
She shook her head. "No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now."
The woman took a glance at the side table next to her, sighing at a photo of who Percy could only assume was Peter. "The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared. Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying."
Clearing his throat, Sam nodded towards the toy soldiers sat out on another table. The three exchanged glances, in silent agreement about the plan as Percy went to investigate the figures while the brothers continued talking to Ms. Sweeney.
There were pictures on practically every surface in this house. It reminded Percy of his apartment with his mother back in New York. He picked up a couple of the toy soldiers, frowning upon realizing they were practically identical to the ones Lucas owned. Percy spared some time looking around the room at the countless photos. The red bicycle was in more than one, and he found himself grabbing a specific photo with a couple familiar but much younger faces appearing among the bunch.
Bill Carlton and Jake Devins.
"Percy," Dean called him away from the photos from the front door, "let's go."
Percy nodded. Considering his nausea from the last drowning was starting to bubble up again, he couldn't agree more.
"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow," Sam very quickly caught Percy up on what they had learned, not that it was much different from what he had inferred from the photos.
Dean scoffed. "Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?"
"And Bill, the people he loves," Sam frowned, "they're all getting punished."
"So what if Bill did something to Peter?" Dean suggested.
"What if Bill killed him?" Percy finally contributed with the question that had been burning in his mind since he laid eyes on the old photo with him, Jake, and Peter.
Dean nodded. "Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible."
Revenge, Dean's words stuck out in Percy's mind. That's exactly what Peter wanted, and he was about to get it if Percy's new, blinding headache was anything to go by.
They parked the Impala outside of the Carlton house, Sam and Dean getting out to go speak to Bill. Sam quickly noticed Percy wasn't following and glanced back at the car.
"Go without me," Percy waved them off, ignoring their concerned expressions once again. Thankfully, though, they listened rather than interrogating him.
Percy watched as they knocked but received no answer. It seemed as though all three of them realized why as soon as an engine revved from the other side of the house.
There were a few moments of absolute hell where Percy vaguely wondered if he'd stay conscious, he felt both like curling up into a ball and sobbing and murdering the next person he saw, and Sam and Dean's distant yelling and the roar of what he could only assume was Bill Carlton's boat felt like they were blaring in his head. Then, it all vanished, and although Sam and Dean explained what happened when they got back to the car, Percy already knew as soon as he felt fine again.
Bill Carlton was dead.
*****
Well, Percy thought miserably as he walked into the police station with the Winchester brothers and Jake Devins, at least I'm not the only one feeling bad about this.
Lucas was rocking back and forth anxiously in a chair, his mother's consoling behavior not seeming to have much of an effect. Andrea stood up once she caught sight of the group. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"What are you doing here?" Jake asked her.
"I brought you dinner."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he frowned, "I don't really have the time."
Clearly, that wasn't why she was really there as she said, "I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"
Jake sighed. "Right now, we don't know what the truth is, but I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."
From across the room, Lucas made a distraught noise, rushing over to Percy and latching onto his sleeve. He knelt down to be eye level with the young boy.
"Lucas, hey, what is it?" He asked, his voice stuck somewhere between comforting and panicked. Someone's hand landed on Percy's shoulder in an attempt to ease the latter emotion, but he couldn't be bothered to look at who it was, his eyes entirely focused on Lucas even as his mother called his name and appeared at his side.
Percy gently grabbed Lucas's hand that was violently gripping his sleeve. "Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay."
Andrea led her son outside, but he never took his eyes off Percy, who stood right after the boy's departure. He looked at the Winchesters with nothing short of confusion on his face, flinching in surprise when Jake threw down his jacket with a sigh and walked into his office. The three men followed him reluctantly.
"Okay, just so I'm clear," Jake sounded troubled, and Percy wondered what specifically was making him feel that way. Maybe it was his grandson freaking out, his childhood best friend dying, or the fact that he probably killed a kid years ago. "You see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?"
Dean looked at his brother. "Yeah, that about sums it up."
Jake sighed. "And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?"
Dean's eyes widened, but Jake spoke again before any of them got the chance, "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you two, or your intern."
"See, now, we can explain that," Dean lied, glaring when Percy elbowed him.
"Enough. Please," Jake held up a hand, "The only reason you're breathing free air is because one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did, so we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."
Sam smiled without a hint of joy. "Door number two sounds good."
Jake nodded in response. "That's the one I'd pick."
*****
The Impala was silent as they waited at a stoplight right by the intersection. Percy's head was spinning again, and despite pressing two of his fingers to both temples, the pain wasn't subsiding. He suddenly had the urge to vomit, the only reason he stopped himself being that he thought Dean would definitely kill him if he ruined the car's upholstery.
Again, Dean looked back at Percy in the rearview, frowning when he saw the younger's pained expression. When their eyes met, they seemed to come to a silent agreement before Percy buried his head between his knees.
"Green," Sam commented out of the blue.
Dean finally looked away from Percy. "What?"
Sam pointed ahead. "Light's green."
Dean sighed and took one final glance over his shoulder at Percy before turning back towards town.
"Uh, the interstate's the other way," Sam informed him.
"I know."
Sam seemed beyond confused. "But Dean, this job, I think it's over."
"I'm not so sure," Dean argued.
"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed," Sam said, "The spirit should be at rest."
Jake Devins, Percy realized, but he couldn't get the words out. He knew who was next to drown.
"Alright, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?" Dean questioned, stepping harder on the accelerator.
"But why would you think that?" Sam tilted his head.
Dean spared another glance at his miserable cousin in the backseat before answering, "Because Lucas was really scared."
Sam's mouth gaped. "That's what this is about?"
The oldest of the group sighed. "I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay."
"Who are you?" Sam couldn't help but grin. "And what have you done with my brother?"
Dean glared. "Shut up."
*****
Within a matter of minutes, the Impala was outside Andrea Barr's house. Now, Percy was pretty sure Dean only went there to either check up on Lucas or flirt with his mother, but all that mattered to Percy was that they were there. Despite how ill these drownings were making Percy, he was the first one out of the car and ringing the doorbell as fast and as many times as his finger could push the button.
He heard Sam coming up behind him with Dean. "Are you sure about this? It's pretty late, man."
Lucas was the one to open the door, looking downright terrified.
Dean frowned. "Lucas? Lucas! What's wrong?"
Percy didn't waste time talking to the child, already sprinting towards the bathroom where he felt the life being drained out of Andrea Barr, Lucas and the Winchesters hot on his trail. He didn't even notice the trail of water that rushed from the bathroom and down the stairs. He frantically shook the doorknob, too physically weak at the moment to do much else, especially with Lucas knocking at his side. Sam grabbed Lucas and held him away from the door while Dean forced Percy to take a step back before kicking the door in. Lucas latched onto Dean, and Percy didn't think twice before rushing over to the bathtub and trying to pull Andrea out of the water.
His skin felt like it was burning, a foreign feeling for Percy when it came to water, but after several tries, he finally yanked Andrea entirely out of the tub and held her shakily on the wet bathroom floor while she coughed up the water in her lungs. The water stopped violently splashing about and settled back into its normal state, leaving them with nothing except a house full of water and five heavy breathers coming down from adrenaline rushes to account for what had happened.
Percy leaned back against the wall as Sam helped Andrea stand and led her through the hallway and down the stairs. She reached for Lucas on her way out, taking the young boy with her and leaving Dean alone with Percy.
"Kid, your—"
Percy cut him off by promptly lurching forward and vomiting into the toilet with a groan.
"Y'know, that's disgusting," Dean commented unhelpfully as he leaned against the doorframe. "Are you done?"
With a nod, Percy assumed his original position against the wall. His legs felt like the bones would disconnect and clatter all over the ground if he tried to stand.
"Your arms," Dean finally got the finish his original thought. "The water do that to you?"
Percy glanced down to find angry red marks resembling hives littering his arms that had been stuck into the tub to save Andrea and sighed. Between Tartarus, the Underworld, and now this, he'd dealt with enough evil water to last him, like, ten lifetimes.
"Probably," Percy interrupted himself with a few coughs, "probably just a floral allergy or something. Women's shampoo and all that."
Dean looked incredibly unconvinced, but Percy must have looked really pathetic because he didn't push the matter anymore. "Come on, let's meet Sammy downstairs."
"It's the sheriff," Percy said quietly, looking up at Dean from the floor.
Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"
"I saw him in a picture with Peter and Carlton when we were at the Sweeney house," Percy explained, finally using the wall to hoist himself off the bathroom floor and resisting the urge to shove Dean away when he helped almost immediately.
Once Percy seemed to gain some kind of solid footing, Dean let go and brushed himself off. "Good work, kid. Let's go see what we can find out about Mr. Sheriff then, yeah?"
They headed downstairs to find Sam speaking with Andrea in the living room. She seemed to have dried off and put on some comfortable clothes. Lucas sat on the floor between the two of them, abiding by his usual routine of coloring and playing with toy soldiers.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Sam asked her calmly.
"No," Andrea shook her head.
Dean was flicking through the bookshelves nearby. Percy had tried to help him so that it went faster, but Dean practically banished him to the empty armchair with a glare and a pointed finger. He couldn't figure out when Dean decided to start caring about him, but it was turning out to be rather annoying.
"It doesn't make any sense," Andrea reflected on her night, letting a few tears fall from her eyes and trying to fan them dry, "I'm going crazy."
"No, you're not," Sam told her definitively, "Tell me what happened. Everything."
"I heard...I thought I heard," she paused, "there was this voice."
"What did it say?" Percy asked. If he couldn't help Dean, he might as well contribute to the other brother's plan of action.
"It said...it said 'come play with me'," she barely got out the words before letting out a sob. "What's happening?"
Dean interrupted the conversation by setting down a scrapbook in front of Andrea and opening it up to a photo of some scout troop by the looks of it. "Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?"
"What?" Andrea briefly looked at Dean like he was crazy before answering, "Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures."
"Chris Barr's drowning," Dean gave Percy a knowing glance, "The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton, after all. It was to the sheriff."
"Bill and the sheriff—they were both involved with Peter," Sam concluded.
"What about Chris?" Andrea was alerted by her husband's name. "My dad—what are you talking about?"
While Sam and Dean struggled to come up with an answer, Percy caught sight of Lucas staring out the window. "Lucas," he called, "Lucas, what is it?"
The child promptly stood up and walked outside, all four following behind him. He stopped at a random spot on the grass before looking at Percy with a frown.
"Lucas, honey?" Andrea's expression was a mix of concern of confusion.
Dean sighed, placing a hand on Andrea's shoulder while Sam left to get shovels from the Impala. "You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?"
"What do you think it is?" Percy asked as he watched Andrea pull her son back inside and disappear behind the door.
"Someone's dirty little secret," Dean shrugged and took one of the shovels from his brother when he returned. Sam handed the other to Percy, giving his still-red arms a wary glance but thankfully not commenting. They didn't have to dig for too long before clanging against something metal in the ground. After brushing some of the dirt out of the way, they were able to pull out a red bicycle from the ground.
"Peter's bike," Sam noted.
"Lucas's drawing," Percy nodded in agreement.
"Who are you?" A voice sounded behind them, startling all three as they turned to find the sheriff pointing a gun at them. Percy really hoped this didn't turn into a shootout—he was still holding onto his pride and had yet to disclose his inability to use the gun he'd been given.
Sam spoke calmly, which was far more impressive than Percy would've been able to pull. He probably would've just yelled at the guy, admittedly. "Put the gun down, Jake."
Sam and Dean both dropped their shovels, and Percy followed suit. He dealt with hundreds, maybe thousands, of monsters throughout his life but humans? They were a different story, even if most of them hated Percy equally as much.
"How did you know that was there?" Jake demanded with a threatening tone.
"What happened?" Dean seemed to react more similarly to Percy, clearly not caring that Jake was armed and angry. "You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," the sheriff's demeanor faltered a bit as his daughter returned to the yard.
Dean answered, "You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about."
Andrea approached her father frantically. "Dad!"
With a slight tilt of his head, almost a challenge, Dean continued, "And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit."
"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them," Sam explained the gravity of the situation, "and it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does."
"Yeah," Jake let out of a laugh of disbelief, "and how do you know that?"
"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton," Percy told him, "and it's why your son-in-law is dead."
The sheriff shook his head. "Listen to yourselves. You're insane."
Dean couldn't help but scoff. "I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us, but if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now, tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake."
"Dad," Andrea looked at her father with watery eyes, "is any of this true?"
"No," he replied a little too adamantly, "Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous."
Andrea shook her head. "Something tried to drown me. You heard them, Chris died on that lake because of this thing. Dad, look at me."
He did, and she continued, "Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone."
When Jake couldn't meet her eyes, she covered her mouth with her hand and muttered out an "oh my God" as she took a step back.
"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time," Jake grimaced, "it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to, but we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank."
Dean exchanged an annoyed look with his brother as the sheriff started spewing nonsense, "Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake, but, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational."
"Alright, listen to me, all of you," Dean was sick of this conversation. "We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now."
At the sound of Andrea's gasp, the four men followed her gaze to see Lucas wandering around the lake. There was a cacophony of voices shouting the child's name as they ran up to the dock just in time to see something yank Lucas into the water. A look of recognition crossed over Jake's face as Peter Sweeney's head peeked above the water while Lucas's disappeared below it.
Percy was mid-takeoff to dive in after Lucas when he felt two rough hands snatch him backwards and throw him in Jake's direction.
"Don't let him in the water," Dean growled at the sheriff before following Sam into the lake.
Even if Jake failed to follow instructions by pushing Percy behind him and immediately taking his attention off the younger man, the absolute sick feeling returned, and Percy could hardly move, much less go diving into an evil lake to drag out a child. He stumbled backwards, using the closest tree for support. It was hard to tell what was his Poseidon powers acting weird because of the water and what was just his overwhelming anxiety about the rescue that was happening that he couldn't be a part of. Percy was always one of the heroes, whether he liked it or not. Watching a young boy potentially drown, drown when the literal son of Poseidon was standing just a few feet away, might've been the biggest thing making him sick this time. He screwed his eyes shut, desperately trying to tune out the frantic yelling coming from Andrea and the incessant splashing of the lake.
The feeling only got worse as he reopened his eyes and caught sight of Jake wading into the water. Percy's knees buckled below him as he watched the man offer himself over. Two people Percy couldn't save.
"Peter, if you can hear me...please, Peter, I'm sorry," Jake shouted into the lake, "I'm so—I'm so sorry."
"Daddy, no!" Andrea screamed from the edge of the lake.
Once again, Percy was struck by the overwhelming feeling of vengeance. Peter was about to take his final victim. At least, Percy had to assume that was the case based on the fact that this was the worst headache yet and his limbs felt like cement. He couldn't lift himself off the ground if he tried—and he certainly did. He tried the entire time he watched Jake beg for his grandson's life, beg for his death to end Peter's reign of terror, and get dragged under the lake just like Lucas.
"Daddy! Daddy, no!" Andrea stole a look in Percy's direction, frantically shouting at him, "Why aren't you doing anything?"
And oh, if that wouldn't haunt Percy's dreams for the next few weeks.
Right as he saw Dean heft Lucas out of the water, and right as Jake drowned in the boy's place, there was an intense ringing in Percy's ears before the entire world promptly went to black.
*****
The next time Percy opened his eyes, he was greeted with the unpleasant sight of fluorescent lights. Blinking away the violent brightness, Percy sat up with his palm pressed to his forehead. He felt like he needed to chug gallons of water, like, immediately, but he was completely fine other than that.
"You're awake," Sam commented from Percy's former spot at the desk, and he suddenly realized he was back in the motel.
He glanced down to see that his forearms had been wrapped in some kind of white gauze. "How long was I out?"
Sam shrugged. "An hour or so. Dean stayed behind to make sure Lucas was okay while I brought you back here and took care of whatever the hell you did to your arms."
It was clearly an invite for Percy to explain, but pretending to be oblivious was kind of Percy's thing. "Is Lucas...?"
"He's alright," Sam nodded. "We, uh, couldn't save Jake, but like I told Dean: we're not gonna save everybody, every time."
That didn't change the fact that Percy sure felt like he had to. There was a slightly awkward silence than ensued, during which Sam didn't seem to want to pry but Percy was definitely not offering up any information of his own free will. Thankfully, it didn't last for long before Dean returned to the room, almost looking relieved as he glanced at Percy on the way inside.
"You two ready to get out of here?" Dean raised an eyebrow, quickly shoving his few belongings into his bag.
Sam nodded and followed suit. Percy sent out a quick prayer about not embarrassing himself to anyone who would listen before making his attempt to slide off the bed. Sure enough, he could move perfectly fine now that someone wasn't actively being drowned ten feet away from him.
Dean finished before Sam, zipping up his bag and turning to Percy with a scowl. "Are you always like this? I don't think gettin' migraines every two hours and bein' a hunter are really a good combo."
"I'm fine," Percy shook his head and paused for a moment only to roll her eyes when Dean looked at him without an ounce of trust. "I'm serious this time."
A nod accompanied Dean's scoff. "I swear, I'm leaving you in the car forever if you're lying to me."
Percy gave him a mock salute as Sam zipped up his bag and gave Percy a confused glance. "Did you stash your stuff somewhere before, you know, breaking in here? We can go get it before we leave."
"I don't have anything," Percy shook his head. "My trip to the Badger State wasn't exactly planned."
"Well, you're comin' with us now, aren't you?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "We got some people to find."
Percy nodded slowly. He wasn't sure what the plan was going forward since his mother wasn't in Wisconsin, but he supposed joining the Winchesters was his best option. Going back to an empty apartment in New York and rotting away in his bedroom didn't seem like a favorable alternative.
Dean passively waved his hand then, as if Percy's lack of belongings was no longer a problem. "We'll pick some stuff up somewhere."
Surprisingly, Percy found himself smiling at the words, even if they were off-handed. He was reminded of the ease at which his mother always seemed to solve his problems. He supposed Dean was related to her, after all.
And with that, the three of them left the motel, and Percy went to return the key and check out while Sam and Dean loaded up the Impala. Percy came back to find the two of them speaking with Andrea and Lucas holding a tray with a grin on his face.
"We're glad we caught you," he heard Andrea say as he rejoined the group, "We just, um, we made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."
Lucas nodded. "Can I give it to them now?"
"Of course," Andrea kissed her son's head with a smile, and the reminder of his own mother was much less pleasant for Percy that time. He had no clue where she was...
"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car," Dean grinned, taking Lucas over to the Impala and excitedly showing him gods know what.
"How you holding up?" Percy's gaze was torn away from Dean when Sam spoke to Andrea.
She shrugged sadly. "It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?"
"Andrea, I'm sorry," Sam sighed.
To both Sam and Percy's surprise, she shook her head, "You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that."
"Alright, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase," Dean returned with Lucas, "so I want you to repeat it one more time."
"Zeppelin rules!" Lucas exclaimed. Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes when Percy nodded in approval. He couldn't have two Deans around, he really couldn't.
"That's right," Dean held out his palm, "Up high."
With a promise to take care of his mother, Dean sent Lucas back to Andrea a few feet away. She approached Dean with a smile, planting a kiss on his cheek and thanking him before steeping back with her son.
Dean awkwardly scratched his head, desperately trying to maintain his cool guy composure. "You two, move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."
After exchanging knowing smirks, Sam and Percy climbed into the Impala after Dean. The car took off, and the younger two waved at Andrea and Lucas as they drove out of the town.
"D'you score a little kiss there, Dean-o?" Percy grinned from the backseat, basking in Dean's glare that he received in response.
"I will shove you out that door onto the freeway."
