#sorry the ao3 link doesn't work yet ill post tomorrow im freakin sleepy lol

[deansmultitudes]

ice cold // dean x cas, au // M; angst //  2,7k // AO3

Warnings: mcd, falling through ice, drowning // written for @spndarkbingo square ‘sleepaway camp’ and challenge square ‘huddling for warmth’; @spndeanbingo square ‘castiel’; @writersofdestiel writer’s choice bingo square ‘fracture’

_

The winter camp counselor is an idiot: that’s how you get an accident. The ice on the lake seems thick enough but it isn’t: that’s how you get a tragedy.

A dozen pairs of sharp blades clink and scrape against the hard surface of the ice. With each passing second the tension in Dean’s muscles grows, his eyes sweep across the lake diligently.

He just wants to go back to the cabin, crawl under the blankets with his boyfriend and not have to worry about everyone’s safety. But right now, in the cabin, the jerk counselor is probably having too much fun with the camp owner's daughter. There’s a reason he told the whole group to go skating and doesn’t give a damn what happens next.

“We should go back there and kick his ass,” Dean says when Cas sits down on the bench next to him.

“He said not to come back until dinner.” Cas checks his watch as if the time had magically jumped forward a few hours.

“Since when do you do what you’re told, Cas?”

A chuckle escapes Cas’s mouth with a puff of white breath in the cold air around them.

“Never,” he says, leaning to Dean to leave a kiss on his temple. “But just because we’re the oldest here doesn’t mean you’re responsible for everybody.”

“Yeah but it does mean that no one listens to me when I say this is a terrible idea,” Dean grumbles.

Cas wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulders to comfort him. Maybe nothing bad will happen. Maybe the ice is as thick as it seems: the temperatures have been low for the last few days—

Way too far from the shore, Alicia Banes, the I-Tonya-wannabe, springs into the air to do a salchow and Dean’s breath catches in his throat.

There is a version of this story in which Alica’s a little worse of a skater and she botches the landing. She lands flat on her back instead of on her blades and spends the following few days with a mild confusion. Maybe in that version a visit to the hospital is necessary. But at least, it’s just a hospital, not a morgue, and Alicia makes it home.

Well, Alicia always makes it home.

Not everyone does, because this is not that story and Alicia took some skating lessons on her local ice rink and has been training to do salchows ever since. So she’s good at them. So she lands it perfectly on the sharpened edge of her blades.

The physics do the rest. The thin, strained ice gives in.

Just like that, she’s gone under.

Dean’s already halfway there before Alicia’s brother can raise the alarm.

“Get the hell off the ice!” he yells to the panicking kids, frozen in their spots.

He grabs Alicia’s brother by the back of his jacket and yanks him away. There’s nothing he can do to help and saving two is much harder than saving one.

As the chaos and cries begin to fade in the distance, Dean drops to his stomach to distribute his weight, and crawls toward the hole in the ice.

Alicia isn’t there. There’s not even a tip of her head poking up through the water’s surface, not a sign of her gloved palm reaching out to try to grab onto something.

With quick but careful motions, he clears off the snow covering the ice around the hole for a better look. A bright yellow spot drifts just under the surface. Alicia’s hat. She’s under the ice.

Bobby always said that once you go under the ice, there is no going back.

Dean’s gonna prove him wrong.

He bangs as hard as he can against the ice above her, but ironically, it won’t break on his whim. He keeps calling her, hoping that she can hear him. That’s she’s not unconscious yet and his voice can lead her toward the opening. It must be scary and confusing down there, but maybe that is all that it takes.

It’s not. There’s no reaction: her face doesn’t turn up, he palms don’t slam against the ice. She doesn’t move. She can’t hear him or can’t react.

He’s running out of time.

Mindful of the thin ice beneath him, he unties his boots and kicks them off.

“What the hell are you planning, Dean?” Cas calls, crawling towards him.

“I won’t reach her from here,” Dean says, trying to keep his voice calm.

“You can’t go in there!”

Of course he can’t. But he has no other choice. Alicia’s just a kid. He can’t let her drown because of some dude’s criminal incompetence.

“She’s gonna die, Cas!”

He doesn’t need Cas to use his words, he can see it in the fear painted on his face. You might die, too.

“Help is coming.”

Good. They’ll be there to pull Dean out if something goes wrong and pulling himself out of there isn’t an option. At least he’ll be able to try to stay afloat.

But they won’t make it in time to save Alicia, because there is no time at all.

Dean slips off his jacket and takes off his belt. He loops one end around his wrist and hands the other end to Cas.

“You’ll help me find my way back.”

Cas doesn’t protest. He knows there’s no way to stop Dean. He knows this is the only right thing to do, even if it’s risky and stupid like hell. He wraps the end of the belt around his fist.

There’s no time for Dean to get slowly accustomed to the freezing water—if that’s possible at all. He slides right into it, gently, not to sink completely and lose his sense of direction.

Ten million needles stab into his body. Freakin’ freezing doesn’t cut it. It’s closer to burning.

He doesn’t try to hold back a scream but his throat gets too tight to let it out.

He blinks, breathing heavily. The only thought in his numbed mind is to get out of there. But Alicia…it’s her he has to focus on. He tries to poise himself but his eyes drift around, looking for the right direction.

“There!” Cas calls, pointing out to his left.

Dean can’t see her from there, but he trusts Cas. He takes a deep breath and dives down. Despite the pain, he keeps his eyes open. Alicia’s dark shape is right in front of him.

At first, his arms and legs refuse to move, like the signals from the brain freeze somewhere on their way. He manages to force some motion, to swim towards Alicia, but it’s like swimming in molasses spiked with crushed glass.

Above his head, the hard layer of ice separates him from air. The glassy lid of his casket.

No, he’ll be fine. He can’t start panicking now. If he does, they’re both done for. His wrist still has the belt around it, obstructing his movements, and he has to trust that if things go badly, Cas will save him.

He keeps pushing forward, until he can reach Alicia. She doesn’t move but there are still bubbles of air floating out of her nose.

Now all Dean has to do is get them both out of there. He yanks the belt twice to give Cas a sign and feels a pull in return. He bats his legs to propel them. The ice seems endless and his lungs are screaming for air.

But then it ends and his head’s above water again, he can breathe again. He pushes Alicia up to hand her over to Cas. Together they manage to get her out.

Cas is reluctant to leave Dean alone in the water.

“She’s still drowning,” Dean says, his voice trembling. “I’m good. Pull her closer to the bank and get her breathing.”

With a nod, Cas lets go of the belt and moves with Alicia to safety. Holding onto the edge of the ice, trying to calm his breath even as his body’s burning, Dean watches Cas conduct CPR on Alicia. Soon, with a spurt of water, she comes to. In the distance, resounds the wailing of sirens. The EMTs will take care of her, she’ll be just fine.

Dean will be fine too, though he’s spying a bout of the cold on its way. He props his arms firmly on the ice and tries to pull himself up.

There is a version of this story in which the ice holds up and Dean crawls out of the water, safely. Drenched and frozen to the bone, he makes it back to Cas and together they make it back to the cabin. Dean’s still shaking, even in dried clothes and under every blanket they managed to find. But it’s okay, because Cas climbs into his bed and presses his body along Dean’s, wraps his arms around him, moves his hands up and down Dean’s body for friction to warm him up and to get his blood flowing.

At night, enveloped by Cas, no longer aching from cold, safe and sound, Dean falls asleep.

Well. Dean does fall asleep that night.

But this is not that story and, as Dean manages to haul one leg over the edge, the ice shatters under his weight. The sudden drop gets him submerged again. Icy water tears through his nose and into his throat. He fights the reflex to gasp for air, as there’s no air around him, there’s only water.

Waving his numb arms and legs, he is barely moving. He’s not that far under the surface. He can hear Cas’s voice bellowing his name.

He thrusts harder, putting all his strength into the motions but it feels almost like something’s holding him in there. Seaweed wrapped around his ankle, some freaking whirlpool—doesn’t matter, he’s not gonna let it kill him.

It’s so close, just a little bit farther.

There’s a pull at his wrist, the belt that was still looped around it, it drags him up until he’s above water again. He coughs out the water and blinks to clear it out of his eyes. On the ice, Cas is holding the belt tightly, his coat wet up to his elbows.

“I got you,” he says, steering Dean his way.

“Knew you would,” Dean huffs out. He’s so freaking done with this place, with this penetrating cold. “Be careful, the ice—”

The ice creaks. They both hold their breaths.

A fracture appears on the surface under Cas’s chest.

“Cas, you have to move.”

Carefully, Cas pushes himself to the side, until he’s away from the crack.

But as soon as he tries pulling Dean toward him, again, there’s another creak. The ice is giving way.

“Move back!” Dean shouts. He won’t be of any help if he falls into the water, too. “Now!”

But of course, Cas never does what he’s told. He tightens his grip on the belt instead of dropping it.

“I won’t let you go.”

“The rescue’s coming, I’ll be fine ‘til then.”

“You’ve been there for too long already—” Cas says as if Dean doesn’t know it.

His whole body’s burning, his extremities lost all feeling in them but for the pain. He’s gonna go full Jack Dawson if he has to stay there any longer. He wants out. He wants out and he doesn’t want Cas to drop the only lifeline Dean has.

The ice creaks again. Another fracture. It’s a matter of seconds.

“Cas, please.”

“Alright,” Cas says. “Alright.”

But just as he’s about to let go of the belt and push himself back, something grabs Dean’s leg, pulls him under.

Dean could swear those are long wingers wrapped around his ankle, trying to drag him into the depths of the lake. The belt on his wrist, still tense, still held, is the only thing stopping it.

He knows it’s not possible. There’s no spooky thing hiding at the bottom of the lake. Still, he tries to kick to free himself of it, but his legs no longer listen. For a moment, he’s like a rag doll, yanked up and down and close to tearing at the seams. Then the hand lets go just as the belt comes loose and above him something heavy splashes into the water. Cas.

No no no no no.

They’re suspended like mosquitos in amber, until Cas gets a hold of himself and pulls Dean back up.

“Something grabbed my freakin’ leg,” Dean cries out as soon as he can breathe again.

Cas has got his arm around him, holding him in place, the other hand grasping at the edge of the ice, as finicky as it is.

He ignores Dean’s little freak out about a tree branch or a bunch of seaweed, his eyes fixed somewhere behind Dean’s back.

“The rescue’s here.”

There is a version of this story in which the rescuers are quick enough and equipped with two, not one, ropes for this sort of accident. They tie their ropes around both of their waists and pull them out, drag them all the way to the shore and wrap them in the thermal foil. Dean lives with Cas, happily ever after.

Well.

Dean lives.

...

The rope hurts as it tightens around Dean’s ribs and pulls with the force of three grown men. The edge of the ice bites into his spine and scrapes his back and his thighs as he’s dragged across it. The air is so, so cold against his wet, ice-burned skin, it barely makes a difference that he’s not in the water anymore.

He’s being pulled to safety and Cas smiles at him, softly, through his chattering teeth. Dean is rescued and they’re about to come back for Cas.

Cas lets go of his end of the belt.

The shock in Cas’s eyes is the last thing Dean sees, before Cas disappears under water.

“Cas! Cas, no!” Dean screams, struggling against the pull.

Despite the numbness, he manages to toss himself forward, latch onto the edge of the hole. They stop pulling, they realized something went wrong, as Dean frantically looks for a sign of Cas in the water.

There’s a light blur, deep down. It has to be Cas’s coat. Dean throws the end of the belt for him to grab, but Cas is too far already, pulled down, down, by something that’s not seaweed, or a branch, or a whirlpool. There’s something in the lake and it’s taken Cas.

There are men, grabbing Dean by his legs, pulling him away, as he’s shouting Cas’s name. He’s kicking and screaming, he can’t let them drag him from Cas. He has to save Cas, like Cas saved him.

Even as he watches the rescuer put on his gear and jump after Cas, Dean’s trying to tear out of a paramedic’s strong hold and follow him. It doesn’t matter that he’s too weak and that his limbs are numb and that he wouldn’t even make it back across the ice.

There’s something in the lake.

And no one believes him. And no one lets him save Cas.

And no one can save Cas either.

Later, they’ll say Cas got a bad cramp, or that some debris caught his leg. Or that he couldn’t stay afloat in the cold water. Like Cas was too weak to wait a little longer. No one will even listen to Dean. Except for the shrink, who’ll say he fabricated the thing in the lake to cover his survivor’s guilt. After all, if Cas hadn't tried to save him, he wouldn’t have died.

In the spring, when the ice has melted away, they will send the divers to comb the lake, but they won’t find Cas’s body. They will bury an empty casket, just to have some bullshit closure. Dean’ll give up on trying to catch up on those missing months his senior year at school. He’ll have other books to study, on local folklore, on world mythology regarding lakes, water, and ice.

Each year he’ll spend a few months up in that closed camp, like a ghost town, after the counselor’s arrest and the owner’s bankruptcy. He’ll drill through the ice and lower himself into the freezing water. He’ll wait and wait, until he can’t feel his body. The thing will never come. But he’ll never stop believing his truth.

There’s something in the water: that’s how you get a love lost.

There was once someone who tried to save you: that’s how you get a tragedy.

#spndarkbingo #spndeanbingo #writersofdestiel #destiel #destiel fanfic #my writing #ice cold #sorry the ao3 link doesn't work yet ill post tomorrow im freakin sleepy lol