I think Sam would be really hot as a merman, after reading a FanFiction featuring both Winchester brothers as mermen. And so, this little bunny jumped me while I was working out, and so here is my wonderful story.
If you didn't notice, the title is a line in the closing song of 'Finding Nemo' (Fun Fact: 'Nemo' means 'Nobody' in Latin…Yeah, how's your childhood now, huh?). Obviously I don't ow the song or the movie, as I am not Walt Disney. Keep guessing. (I don't even think he was Italian, anyway).
This is set in season five, like; right after Lucy was jail broke. Cas will be in this story, as will Bobby. I think… Oh, and I made up a character. Teehee. If you don't recognize her, she's mine.
I shoulda known something was wrong from the moment we got to the beach. I should've known this wasn't just some water spirit. To summarize:
Sam and I had just come to this little coastal town in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Bobby's old friend, Anne, had come out here and needed help with a water spirit, because she was 'too old', or something equally as ridiculous. We go out there, and she seemed a bit off, which should've set off red flags. Sam and I did all the research about all the disappearing people, and when we got down to the beach to meet Anne, we saw her waiting for us, standing ankle-deep in the water. She started muttering something once she made direct eye contact with Sam, and once she was done, he was out like a light. Right then, we came to our senses; this bitch was a witch, and I quickly put her down. It would explain her weird behavior, and all the complications to the disappearances. Anyway, I managed to half-carry, half-drag my Sasquatch little brother back to my baby, and we quickly reunited ourselves with the motel. He hasn't woken up. Now:
"C'mon, Sammy, let me see those puppy dog eyes of yours," I pleaded, squeezing his hand gently. I could still feel the anger at him coursing through my veins, but it seemed to have been pushed to the back burner for now.
I had dialed Bobby's number, my back to Sam. I stared at the screen until it turned off, and I sighed. I couldn't bother him right now. I turned back to Sam, only to meet pain-filled hazel eyes.
"De," he breathed, his voice confined to a whisper.
"Hey Sammy," I said, smiling softly. They way he was looking at me reminded me of a much younger Sam, begging me to let him go the library or something equally nerdy.
"Hurts, De," he moaned, his eyes flickering shut. My heart faltered. It was one thing for my brother to be knocked out, but it was another to know he woke up to pain.
"What hurts, Sammy?" I asked, looking him over for anything.
"M' legs," he sighed. "Can't move 'm." My eyes widened. I re-dialed Bobby's number, and told Sam I'd be right back. He looked at bit sad, but I didn't dwell on it. He's looked sad since he let Lucifer out. Bobby answered quickly. I explained everything to him.
"His legs, he says they hurt, and that he can't move them."
"The spell maybe?"
"I thought the bitch's death would reverse any spells she cast."
"I dunno. Maybe if we give it time it'll wear off."
"I hope so." I went back in, only to find that Sam wasn't on the bed. "Sammy?" I then heard a large splash, and I ran into the bathroom. I dropped the phone on the way.
Sam was in the tub, soaked, but that wasn't what shocked us. He legs weren't…legs. Instead, they were a silvery tail, the scales shining in the light.
"Oh Sam," I breathed, looking into my brother's sad eyes.
"My legs don't hurt anymore," he said sheepishly, giving a small smile. "The witch, she was helping those people, according to her. She was changing them into…whatever this is." He explained quietly. "Said that she gave them better lives."
"But why were their bodies found…?" I asked. I was mesmerized by may brother's…tail. The scales were bluish, and they held no sign that they ever were my brother's freakishly long legs.
"I dunno. I guess they just weren't suited for it," he explained.
"And how do you know this?" I asked him, not looking away from his tail. He shifted, as if he was self-conscious, and I met his gaze. He actually looked a bit embarrassed.
"While I was out, in a dream, she explained it to me. She said that as long as I stayed hydrated, and drank at least a bottle of water every, like, two hours, I'd be fine. Those people didn't know, I guess, and they tried to drag themselves back home, or something," he told me, eyes downcast.
"And why are you here?" He glanced up at me.
"You can feel yourself start to dehydrate," he said. He then looked down at his fishy lap, cheeks turning bright red. "My scales got itchy, and the skin on my hands started to dry out. But now I'm fine." I nodded, just then remembering my phone.
"I have Bobby on the phone," I said. "I'll get him." I quickly exited the bathroom. My little brother now has a tail. I picked up the phone, put it on speaker, and I quickly apologized. I brought it into the bathroom, and I sat down on the toilet lid.
"Hey Bobby," Sam greeted.
"Hey Sam," Bobby's fuzzy voice ran out surprisingly clearly. "Heard Annie got you half-fish." Sam looked down at his tail.
"Yeah."
"Don't worry son. Yer brother and I'll get something to fix this. Why don't you come out to me? You can tell me all about it." Sam smiled softly.
"Okay. Thanks, Bobby."
"No need to thank me, boy." With that, I said goodbye and hung up. I turned to Sam, but he avoided my gaze. I sighed.
"Why don't you get dried off? I'll get a wheelchair, a blanket, and a ton of water bottles, and we'll head out. Okay, Sammy?" I asked. He nodded, and I left. I bought the largest case of water I could find, and we had blankets in the trunk. It was actually pretty easy to find the wheelchair, and I was back at the motel in about fifteen minutes. I checked us out, and got back to see Sam flopped in the middle of the floor, panting. He managed to wiggle around to face me, and he smiled sheepishly, his cheeks turning bright red. He had changed his shirt, and he was dried off.
"I need a little help," he mumbled, looking away from me. I chuckled, and he shot me a fake glare. I pushed the wheelchair next to him, and managed to help lift him into it. I was really lucky to find one big enough. I was also cautious of touching his tail. He had sensed this too, because when he used his tail to help me lift, I maneuvered myself away from it. He wiggled himself into a comfortable position, and I watched how he bent his tail where his knees were and the base-where the fin was connected-bent, like his ankles would have, as he settled the fin onto the plates for your feet. I watched him do this, one eyebrow raised, as I wasn't sure exactly how his tail would work, unsure of what to do with my newly transformed brother.
I shook my head and went to pass him to grab the blanket when a strong hand grabbed my wrist. I looked down at my brother-it was strange to be taller than him again-and he met my gaze with large eyes.
"You're uncomfortable with me," he stated. "You don't know what to do with me now that I'm a…what is the word…mermaid." I shook my head.
"Well, Sammy, unless you're hiding something from me, you're a guy, so technically, you'd be a merman," I joked. He just sighed.
"I'm still me, Dean. You look at my tail like it's offending you or something. You need to get used to it, because we have no leads on how this spell will be reversed, and we don't know how long I'll be this way-"
"If you mean you're gonna be stuck like this then you're wrong, Sam," I said, cutting him off. "We're gonna-"
"I never said that," he stated calmly. "I'm just saying that you're uncomfortable being around me while I'm like this, and I want you to feel comfortable. I saw you avoid contact with it. It won't kill you to touch it, nor will it kill me. Please, Dean." I sighed at my brother's puppy dog eyes.
"You want me to touch your tail?" I asked flatly. He blushed.
"Well, when you put it like that-"
"Will it make you feel better if I…get acquainted with this new change?"
"…Yes. Yes it would." I nodded, and reached out slowly. He nodded back, and I put my hand on the cool scales where his knees used to be. They were smooth, and felt more like a snake's scales than anything else. I stroked down them, but when I brought my hand back up, Sam hissed and swatted my hand away, stroking where I was dragging my hand against his scales. "Don't do that." I snorted, and he gave me his annoyed bitch-face.
"Come on, Ariel. Let's cover you up so you don't scare any of the humans, and get you to the car. I'll get our stuff." He huffed at me, and I grabbed the blanket, which thankfully covered his tail, and wheeled him out to the car, where we quickly got him into the Impala without anyone seeing scales. I quickly packed up all our stuff, and shoved it into the trunk of the Impala. I slid into the driver's seat, and started my baby. I turned to Sam, who met my eyes.
"Don't call me Ariel." With that, I busted out laughing, and Sam joined me as I threw the Impala into drive and we headed for Bobby's.
When we finally reached Bobby's, it was about two in the morning, and Sam was out like a light. I looked over at my sleeping brother, and I noted how young he looked. I hated to wake him up, but I knew I wouldn't be able to get him into the wheelchair without being punched. I reached over and gently shook him, retracting quickly as he startled awake.
"We're here, Sleeping Beauty," I told him. He gave me a bitch face, but then smirked.
"How do you know so many Disney princesses, soccer mom?" he shot back.
"Point taken," I replied, climbing out of my baby. I grabbed the wheelchair from the back, and brought it around to where Sam was opening the door. He used his tail to help me get him into the wheelchair, and grabbed his water bottle-I think it was like his seventh-taking a swig. I covered him back up with the blanket. I put his duffel on his lap, and I shouldered my own. I wheeled him up the steps-I really am Batman-and he knocked on the door. Bobby quickly opened the door for us, welcoming us with a smile and letting us in.
We all congregated in the living room, and Bobby helped me get Sam onto the couch. Once Sam was settled, Bobby and I sat down on the chairs we pulled up. Sam finished his water bottle, and I handed him his next one. I was amazed that he still didn't feel the need to take a piss yet, but I didn't question it. It would be too awkward.
"Alright, show me whatcha got, Sam," Bobby said, breaking me out of my inappropriate thoughts. Sam tossed the blanket off, and Bobby's eyebrows rose. "Damn, kid, yer brother wasn't lyin'." I didn't have it in me to argue.
"As long as I stay hydrated, I'm fine," Sam explained. "I can feel when I'm dehydrating." Bobby nodded.
"I did a little research after yer brother called," he told us. "We'll have to get you right back to Cape Cod. Merfolk can only survive up to two days this far away from their ocean." I swear my heart stopped for half a second.
"What? Why didn't you tell us before, Bobby?" I asked, horrified.
"I only just found out, son," Bobby said reassuringly. "We'll have plenty of time." I sighed, rubbing my forehead.
"Are you feeling anything now Sammy?" I asked. He hesitated, not meeting my gaze. "Sam…"
"I feel a little queasy, and I have since we got into the car, but I just kinda… dismissed it?" he said. "I didn't think it was a big deal." I sighed again.
"Well, let's hurry up and get our asses back to Cape Cod before my brother is used to decorate a ship," I grumbled. Bobby helped me re-situate Sam in the wheelchair, and he grabbed our stuff while I wheeled Sam back out to the Impala. We managed to wrestle my Sasquatch of a brother into the passenger seat, and as he pulled his tail inside and covered himself up with the blanket, Bobby and I packed our stuff-Bobby always had a duffle ready in case of emergency-into the trunk of my baby. Bobby jumped into the backseat, and I climbed into the driver's. I started her up, and we headed out, dust flying behind my baby's wheels.
We were a day into the trip, and Sam had gotten sick. We all knew it was because of the distance between him and the Cape, but that didn't mean I didn't try to help him feel better. Empty water bottles littered the floor of the backseat as Sam drained them. But still, the skin on his hands was dried out, his lips chapped, and his scales were no longer shiny. We were caught in traffic on our way to Massachusetts. Sam was burning up from what appeared to be dehydration, no matter how many water bottles he drank, and he kept complaining of a headache and of his scales hurting. He let out another groan as he finished his twentieth water bottle.
"We're halfway there, Sammy. Just hold on," I told him, patting his shoulder gently. He let out a pained sigh, and Bobby handed him another ice-cold water bottle. He quickly downed half off it, before pulling it away from his lips, groaning as his head spun.
"Take it slow, son," Bobby coached, rubbing Sam's shaking shoulders. "You've gotta make 'em last." I smiled in relief as the traffic finally started to move, and we gained more ground. Not soon enough, however, we were back on our way. Sam's throat had swelled, and he could no longer speak. He breathing was wheezy, and he was panting hard, struggling for air in between gulps of water.
As Sam finished another, and reached back for another, Bobby took Sam's hand.
"I'm sorry son, that was the last one," he said. Sam turned his puppy dog eyes onto me, and I growled in frustration.
"We packed five huge cases of water into that backseat, Bobby, how could we have run out?" I snarled.
"I don't know, Dean. I'm just as shocked as you are. I'll check under the seats again." I rubbed my face, running my hand through my hair. I slammed my fist into the steering wheel as the cars in front of me slowed down. "DAMMIT!" I pounded on my horn, panic disguised as anger flooding through my system. I cursed every damn person in front of me, every damn angel, every damn demon, everything and anything we had ever come across. I was broken out of my verbal rampage by a hand taking and squeezing mine. I met my baby brother's eyes, and they immediately calmed me down. Pain was still swirling around in them, but there was also hope and trust in those dewy eyes. I sighed for what seemed to be the fiftieth time that day, and I squeezed Sam's hand back, flinching with him at the pain the action caused him. "I'm sorry Sammy. You're right, we will get through this."
And with that, the roads finally cleared, and we raced on, hoping to get to Cape Cod before my baby brother lost the ability to breathe altogether.
"C'mon, Sammy, stay with me," I pleaded as I dragged my barely conscious mer-brother out of the passenger seat. I had driven right onto the beach. It was eight o'clock at night on the second day, and luckily, no one was on the beach. We were cutting it close; it was almost the time Sam had woken up to the tail. We only had three minutes left to get him into the water. Bobby and I forgot about the wheelchair in favor of carrying him down. The sand was even more suction-y as we struggled to carry my deadweight brother to the ocean. I was panicking internally; I could hear his breaths rasping in his throat as his chest rose and fell shallowly. "Sammy." His chest started to slow.
"Almost there, son," Bobby grumbled. We both sighed in relief as we felt water soak into our shoes. We placed Sam down in the shallow water, and we rolled him deeper in until we were up to our thighs. I cradled my little brother's dripping form as I dropped to my knees. He wasn't breathing.
"Come on, Sammy. You're gonna survive this, and we'll find a way to fix you, I promise," I said, patting his cheek. "Sammy." I smiled as I heard my baby suck in air. His eyes snapped open, and he immediately turned and buried his face in my chest, his tail splashing the water away. I laughed in relief, and Bobby knelt next to us. Once Sam was done hugging me, he attacked Bobby, almost knocking the old man over.
"You're good, Sam. It's alright," he said. Sam pulled away, smiling at us.
"I'm gonna guess you're feeling better," I joked. I spluttered as I got a mouthful of seawater. "Oh that's it!" I tackled my little brother, and I watched happily as he easily breathed underwater. We wrestled a bit, until we were both soaked through.
"C'mon, ya idjits," Bobby laughed, waving at us. "Yer getting' me wet." Sam laughed, and I smiled at the care-free tone of it. It had been a while since I heard Sam laugh like that. "How we gonna get you to bed, son?" There was the question.
"Maybe I could find a cove or something I could sleep in, and you guys could check into a motel or something," Sam suggested.
"Okay," I replied. Bobby gave me a weird look, but I ignored it. Sam nodded, and he swam off. Bobby and I headed back to the Impala. As I got in, I felt something hard collide with the back of my head. "Hey!"
"You're a damn idjit, you know that Dean?" Bobby growled. "Sam needs you right now, and you're pushing him away! You used to love that kid more than yourself, what happened?"
"What happened Bobby?" I asked incredulously, my voice rising to match his. "He jump-started the apocalypse! He let Lucifer out of his cage! How am I supposed to keep him close when he betrayed both me and the world? Huh?"
OHHHH SHIT. What's gonna happen next? feel free to comment and flame me or whatever you feel like doing/saying to me once you're done with this chapter!