Chapter Six

Dean caught his brother as he passed out. "Sammy! Sam! Sam, wake up!"

Sam was unconscious and growing paler by the second.

"Dammit," Dean muttered.

Dean pulled Sam into his arms with some difficulty and did his best to walk across the street. Dean set Sam on the porch of the motel, pulling his key out and jamming it into the lock. The door swung open, and Dean grabbed Sam's arms, dragging him into the room. Dean dragged Sam over to the bathroom, dropping his torso onto the tile. Dean turned the faucet on, plugging up the drain.

Dean waited impatiently as it slowly filled with water. "Come on. Come on!"

When it had about two inches of water in it, Dean grabbed hold of Sam, pulling his jacket and boots off and pulling him into the tub. Sam hit the bottom of the tub. His hands were in the couple inches of water, and his arms sprouted fins, ripping through his long sleeves. His skin colored a bit as the cracked, dry skin of his hands became smooth once again.

Dean grabbed the showerhead and flipped that little switch that makes the water go from the faucet to the showerhead. He sprayed the water down onto Sam. Sam's jeans ripped as his legs fused together, transforming into that blue mer-tail. Sam's skin colored back to their original pigment, and his dry skin disappeared, replaced with smooth skin.

Dean let the showerhead run for a little bit longer until the water was about six inches deep. Dean shut the showerhead off, letting the water run through the faucet again. It filled to up to about a foot or so deep, and Dean shut the faucet off.

Sam lay unconscious in the tub for a while before finally gasping and opening his eyes.

"Hey, man, you okay?" asked Dean.

Sam looked around at the motel bathroom. "Yeah. I'm fine…I guess." He looked down at his shredded jeans, still attached to him at the waist. "What happened?"

"I had to get you into some water," said Dean. "Didn't have time to…take the jeans off. What happened, man? You've been drinking enough water."

"I don't know," said Sam, undoing the belt from around his waist. "Call Bobby."

Dean grabbed his cell phone, dialing Bobby up. Sam listened to the one-sided conversation while he undid the fly. From the fly down, the inseam of the jeans on either leg was torn, and the jeans were hanging on either side of his tail. When the fly was undone, Sam grabbed the soggy jeans and dropped them on the bathroom floor.

"Bobby, we got a problem," said Dean.

"Of course you do," said Bobby. "You only call me when everything is falling to pieces. What happened?"

"Sam is, like, drying out, or something," said Dean. "I had to get him into the bathtub. You didn't say anything about this."

"Well, I told you guys that mermaids need water regularly," said Bobby.

"Yeah, he's been drinking water nonstop," said Dean.

Bobby sighed, probably rolling his eyes. "He needs water externally, too, ya idjit. A mermaid needs to get into the water at least once every twenty-four hours, in addition to drinking more water than a normal human being."

Dean put his hands on his hips. "And you didn't think you should have clarified that?"

"Well, now you know, don't you?" said Bobby, hanging up.

Dean dropped his arm to his side, letting his cell phone hang from his hand.

"Well?" asked Sam.

"Well, apparently, Bobby thinks he made it clear that we knew mermaids needed to be in water once a day, as well as drinking a lot of water," Dean smiled down at Sam.

Sam frowned. "Seriously? He thought we would get that from what he said?"

"I know!" said Dean, shaking his head. He looked back out into the motel room, spotting the open door. "Oh, man, soak for a bit. I'll be back."

Sam watched as Dean left the bathroom. He closed his eyes, taking in the water. He felt so much better in the water. It was so soothing.

"Samuel…"

Sam sat bolt upright, glancing around the room. His jaw dropped open as he listened intently.

"Samuel…"

Sam's eyes widened as he heard the faint feminine voice once more. "Dean!"

Dean darted back into the bathroom. "What? What? What is it?"

"Did you hear that?" asked Sam, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Dean looked around. "Hear what?"

"That voice…" said Sam.

"What voice?" asked Dean, very concerned now.

"It was—" Sam began.

"Samuel…"

Sam froze, staring at the wall. Dean waved a hand in front of Sam's face.

"Come…Samuel…"

Sam could feel the voice beckoning him towards it. He could feel something in that voice, something that was indistinguishable from something inside of him. Something deep inside of him recognized something deep inside of that voice.

"Sam!" said Dean.

Sam jumped and looked up at Dean. "Huh?"

"You okay?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, I…I heard it again," said Sam.

"What'd it say?" asked Dean, squatting down next to the tub.

"It said my name," said Sam. "My whole name: Samuel. And then it said, 'come.'"

Dean smirked. "Kind of a pervy little voice, don't ya think?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, seriously; mind, gutter. I felt like the voice wanted to me come find it."

"Well, that's not a whole lot to go on," said Dean.

"Well, there's something else," said Sam. "I felt that…I should head east…back the way we came."

Dean frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Mermaids can communicate telepathically with each other when they're in fish form," explained Sam. "There may be more mermaids back there."

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "Great, more stuff to kill."

"Hang on, Dean," said Sam. "I don't think this one is evil."

"Not evil?" said Dean. "They drag humans underwater and squeeze them to death."

"Dean, just because something isn't human, doesn't mean that it's evil."

"Have you ever met a good mermaid?" asked Dean.

"Had you met one at all before this week?" Sam pointed out. "And had you met a good vampire before Lenore?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "How do you know she's not evil?"

"I don't," said Sam. "She just…feels different. I think we should check this out."

Dean shrugged. "Well, it's better than sitting around here for who knows how long." He looked closely at Sam. "You think you can find anything out from here?"

Sam stared at him. "What, you mean, like, telepathically?"

"Yeah, try asking her some questions, or something," said Dean, leaning closer curiously.

"Fine, but I'm not promising anything," said Sam.

Sam closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching out towards that voice. He could feel something…almost like a long string that connected him to this voice. He nudged along that connection, trying to contact her.

"Yes, Samuel?" asked the voice, still faint and distant.

Sam's eyes opened in alarm. He hadn't expected to be able to do it.

"What?" asked Dean.

"It worked…" breathed Sam in amazement.

"What'd she say?" asked Dean.

"Well, hang on a minute," said Sam.

He closed his eyes once again, feeling along the mental connection. It was easier this time, since he'd already done it once before.

"Who are you?" Sam asked her.

"I am Elizabeth," she responded.

"I'm just gonna call you, Liz," said Sam. "How about that?"

There was a small giggle in Sam's head. "How about Lizzie?"

Sam smiled a little. "Alright, Lizzie. What are you?"

"I'm like you," answered Lizzie. "I felt you two nights ago…your aura arose in my mind, new and bright."

Sam nodded, thinking, That was when I changed the first time.

"Can you always sense me?" Sam asked.

"We can only sense others like us when we and they are in merform," Lizzie answered.

"So, what, you're my soul mate, or something?" Sam asked. "That's why you can feel me?"

"No," said Lizzie. "We can all feel each other. We want to bring you home."

"Home?" asked Sam.

"With us," said Lizzie.

"And where is that?" asked Sam.

"You already know," replied Lizzie, her face fading into nothing.

And like that, she was gone. Sam opened his eyes.

"Well?" asked Dean.

"We're heading back where we came from," said Sam. "I have a pretty good idea where they're located. I think Lizzie will be waiting for us—I mean, me."

"Lizzie?" asked Dean.

"The voice," said Sam. "Her name is Lizzie. And she says there are more mer-people where she is."

"Alright, let's get you dried off," said Dean.

******************************************************SPN*********************************************

"Okay, so, where we headed?" asked Dean.

They had let Sam dry off under the covers as they slept in the motel room last night. They'd hit the road the next morning, heading back to Myrtle Beach. When they hit town, Dean pulled over at a gas station to fill up.

Sam looked over at Dean from the passenger seat. "Um…" he looked around at the roads. "You know, it'd be safer to wait to contact her at night. No prying eyes."

"Okay, let's get a room," said Dean, driving down the road to the nearest hotel.

Dean made sure to avoid the hotel they had already stayed at. He didn't want to raise suspicions with his fake cards.

They found a small inn close to the beach and paid for a room, heading inside to wait for night.

An hour later, Dean's cell phone rang.

"Hello?" Dean answered.

"I think I found the cure," said Bobby abruptly.

"You did?" asked Dean, frowning. "There's a cure?"

"It looks like," said Bobby. "There's only one problem."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course there is. What is it?"

"Only the mermaids know it," said Bobby.

Dean paused for a while. "What?"

"There has never been a single cure recorded in lore history," said Bobby. "But, it looks like the mermaids would be the only ones who would know how to do it. They'd have to take Sam to their underwater world, or wherever they live."

"Well, that's just great," said Dean.

"Dean, not all mermaids are evil," said Bobby.

"Yeah, yeah, you and Sam can keep saying it, I still don't believe it," said Dean, hanging up.

"What's up?" asked Sam.

"Bobby says only the mermaids can cure you," said Dean.

Sam nodded. "Okay. We'll just have to find them, then."

Dean shook his head at Sam. "I still say this is a bad idea."

"Well, you got any other ideas?" asked Sam.

Dean just stared at him.

"That's what I thought," said Sam.