The Little Witch's Imagines

The Winchesters: The Water Spirit

IMAGINE: The Winchesters crash the Impala and you, a water spirit, save them.

Dean wakes up with a jolt, his chest pumping quickly while his vision refocuses itself. It's extremely cold out. It doesn't help his clothes are completely soaked, either. The sound of a tow truck's deeping echoes from far away, and he looks up to see Sam watching "Baby's" rescue from the watery depths of the Oregon bay.

"Dammit," Dean whines, standing quickly.

Sam has no consolation for Dean, running a hand through his hair while he begins to think of quicker plans to reach their next emergency destination.

"We can come back and get it from the scrapyard later. Dean, we have to move," Sam speaks.

Dean tosses his wet jacket onto the pebble beach as he looks out at the water.

"Just got a new polish!" is all he can say.

Sam does a double take to the currents behind him, noticing the eerie tracks that lead back toward the water. He hits Dean's chest gently as a gesture for him to follow.

"I think we were someone's damsels in distress," Sam notes.

It catches them both off guard to see something suddenly submerge itself back into the waist-level waters past the large beach boulder.

"Dean puts a hand on his salt gun, but Sam stops his hand.

"Who's there?" he asks.

No answer. He repeats himself. They're taken aback when you gradually reveal yourself from behind the boulder, staring them down. Dean grins devilishly.

"Hello there," he says.

"Why did you help us? Or did you?" Sam questions, not as enveloped in your beauty as Dean.

"You should be careful. The currents are strong," you reply smoothly, "Please help me. I'm stuck between some rocks."

You extend your hand. Dean and Sam exchange glances. Dean is, no question, ready to help. He happily darts toward the waters before Sam catches his arm.

"Hold on. Hold on," he whispers.
"Maybe she's hurt," Dean protests.
"Maybe she's not human," Sam says louder.

You tilt your head, watching their back and forth.

"We'll call someone," Sam states.
"Why? You're here now. Help me come ashore," you smirk.

Dean rolls his eyes at Sam, flashing his gun at Sam behind his back and deciding to keep a distance between you and him at first. Your nails begin to grow long as his hand gets closer, your teeth becoming as sharp as knives.

"Crap," Sam mutters, taking out his own pistol.