Sink or Swimchesters
Chapter Nineteen
SOS
Dean woke up when his whole body slammed into the dresser and desk on the other side of the room. He flailed about, still half tied up in blankets, and terribly disoriented. He pulled at his bedspreads which tore under his claws but didn't uncover his legs. He was jostled again and then dropped to the floor and wedged his long body on the ground between the bed and dresser. Everything was lurching side to side. Movement and sound. A booming thump heard from the wall in a rapid beat. Suspiciously familiar sounding. A heartbeat?
Somewhat elevated for a human, but for a titan as big as Sam, it should be heralding a heart attack. Memories of studies done on Earth's largest animals that had a few beats per minute heart rates. For Sam's to be going this fast signaled nothing good.
Dean tried to move to his side but his legs didn't want to cooperate in the tight space, feeling like they were tied together, he whipped the remaining sheet from them and stared in horror at what was there. No longer legs. No longer two tails even. Just one now. The ship was lurching side to side with water whipping everything inside the hull around. His hands hesitated before tapping at his legs, his tail. His fucking tail? He scratched at it with his claws, blood seeping up and away, carried quickly by the sloshing water pulsing around his ship. A sting felt where his damaged scaled skin was exposed to the saltwater.
Dean was so shocked he couldn't speak. The pain coming from his tail proving that it's his, and not only that, but it had grown longer. It had grown more bright colors of orange and auburn slashes and spots of deep green and black. The sides of it had adipose fins running almost the whole length of it. If he concentrated hard enough, he could make the adipose fins fucking move. Contracting and relaxing the muscles controlling them.
He rubbed his palms along the damned thing as if he could rub away the colors, the scales, the reality of it all. His hands went further up to push the scales down and found another frightening discovery.
His fucking dick was gone. Just fucking gone! What the fuck?! His hands went to probe the area where it had been and found a thin slit just like Sam's there instead. It was tender like freshly healed skin over a gash. His sharp claws caught at the tiny scales there and made him wince. A slight bulge under the skin in the same familiar shape but now it was hidden away. Like he was wearing tight leather pants over his junk. He could feel it under there but not see it. His past life as a dog coming back to him to oh so helpfully remind him that this should be nothing new. It should have helped him prepare for this. But fuck. This is a bit different than a red rocket. At least the rest of his junk was not tucked away too when he was a dog. Robert, his owner, never neutered him. He looks like he'd been fuckin castrated.
But before he could explore his new body some more, the ship and everything in it lurched painfully to the side. His larger body was the only thing keeping him from cracking his skull open on his bed frame, wedged as it was in his walking space. Filling it up with just his body.
He looked up and could just barely see Sam's chest heaving overhead past the stairs leading up.
A reverberating crunch and splintering crash. His mast had broken close to the top, about ten feet of it broken as easily as a stick against Sam's sternum. The whole ship moaning from the changing pressures put against it.
The ship juttered and he could feel every impact in the floor where the base of the mast was. The broken section making it jab against Sam's neck up there. Banging away as Sam was carrying them somewhere extremely fast and hectic. He could hear grunts and gasps as the mast slammed repeatedly against Sam's sensitive gills on his neck. The fact that Sam wasn't stopping to fix it was distressing.
The shock of waking up to this shitshow finally dulled a little, and left him just enough brain capacity to start to think clearly. And clearly they were in some deep shit. And Dean's just sitting here on the floor groping himself.
He cursed under his breath and painfully flipped around to his belly, his stupid ass tail pushing uselessly underneath himself, adipose fins that ran the length of his tail getting pinched and rammed into the corners of his living space. His tail beat a few times like an eel writhing around to right himself and he resorted to using only his hands and arms to crawl up the steps. Just in time to see Sam move his poor ship to the giant Mer's side, diagonal to his heaving chest. The wing fins punishing and brutal against the water all around, making his head hurt from the pressure waves.
Dean was thrown about wildly as the massive Mer tried to swim with a broken mast in his way. Banging around and getting the lines more and more tangled with the sail. Sam was breathing hard, fretful suppressed sounds making their way past his lips, but loud to Dean's ears. Sam was freaking out and trying to escape something which made Dean freak out because anything that could make SAM freak out was something terrifying and most likely able to kill Dean instantly. Dean was grateful that Sam didn't ditch him and his ship to escape whatever it is faster to save his own skin.
But Dean's sides were quickly becoming bruised and battered against the hard edges of his stairway and dresser as he was thrown about the place. He might not survive the damn escape attempt.
"Sam!" he tried shouting but had the wind knocked out of him. Fuck. Right. The Water knocked out of him. He struggled to breathe past the pain as red blotches covered his chest. His lower half was tossed into his dresser again. Small cuts coming from the debris being kicked up about the place. He pushed himself back away from the stairwell and curled his tail up and around to be able to turn in place.
Dean yanked open the bottom drawer of his dresser and grabbed his favorite hoodie but on seeing how small it was compared to him now made him ticked. He frowned, and went for the largest one he had. The one that usually went over other thick clothes and his bibs. It fit but it was clear that he had gained some mass last night. Linebacker type mass but… not as musclebound. Almost like his whole body just got bigger but not any more buff than he was a week ago. He wasn't a pansy by any means, then or now, but now, he'd be pushing some sumo wrestlers around.
Dean took a few seconds to just look down at the normally huge hoodie and how his body stretched from the dresser and into his galley. The tail is much longer than human legs could ever be, even accounting for his larger size. The foot fins moving independently, like Sam's, but he still just had two to Sam's four end fins. Dean's were also wider and more articulated where Sams were more narrow and long and limited flexibility. Like a dolphin tail. As Dean's fins splayed out horizontally, touching together they resembled an oval, when they separated they looked like flattened seal fins. The former toes and feet would cover his old flatscreen TV back at Bobby's. He'd be fast as hell if he knew how to swim with this setup. He was just starting to get used to it yesterday, not nearly skilled enough to go for this advanced difficulty of having just one damned tail. How's he supposed to get around with one tail? Sam at least has arm fins and wing fins to help him swim. Dean just has webbed fingers and a strange ass tail.
He wracked his brain for any animal living or dead with the same tail as him and came up bluescreen. No hints for how he's supposed to move. Or if he could even function with this bullshit.
Case in point, he was tossed into his bed once more and the tail just flailed about uselessly. Bending in all those unnatural ways like his legs did before. Up down left right diagonal forwards and backwards. Dean sorely missed having joints. Even if they hurt in bad weather at least he knew which way his knee would bend. He missed knees. Sure he could bend the tail as if he still had knees but damn did it look weird.
Another bang. Another bruise. Another reminder to stay in the moment and stop lamenting shit.
He needed to pad himself up to keep his skin intact.
The thick hoodie sweater helped protect his tender new skin from any more sharp objects. It also hid the scales creeping up his hips and the different coloration on his back. He stared at his abused tail for another moment. Not seeing anything better, he wrapped a blanket around his hips and tied it around his belly, trying to avoid blocking his lower gills that went between the lowest ribs so he could keep breathing.
Breathing was good. He needs to breathe. His own heart jack hammering away.
The extra padding helped him out a bit as he was flung a few more times about the place now that he wasn't safely wedged along the floor. Debris was flying everywhere, no longer secured behind doors. Food clouded up the water. Cabinets and doors slammed into his fins and threatened to tear them. Pushing them closed with his feet fins so they'd knock it off. Very briefly amazed at how dexterous they were and how they obeyed his command. Which was a good thing when his knife block came tumbling down from the wall mount, and he had to avoid getting his feet fins skewered.
Fuck! It would be safer to just get out of this death trap and have Sam carry him in his hands! Because as it stands, he's more likely to get a deadly can of beans to the head than anything.
It would mean ditching his ship.
The last tie to his past out here.
Dean grimaced as he looked around his beloved ship just before he decided to abandon her. If there was anything he'd miss or would need.
He folded over himself to get to his galley and hastily grabbed his swiss army knife and clipped the carabiner to a new hole he cut in the bottom of his sweater hoodie. Next clipping on a flashlight/emergency strobe light combo that was already attached to a carabiner. Rummaging around, he grabbed a shoulder bag and started throwing in ropes, a small toolbox, and the emergency ax from the wall. A compass and small signal mirror were thankfully already attached to the bag. The remaining few glowsticks went in next. He snagged his favorite shirt that just happened to float by, using it to half wrap around the other items to help keep them secured in there. Buttoning it shut, he pulled at the adjustable strap to its furthest length and then wrapped the bag across his torso and tied it shut with three more various types of thin but strong coiled ropes that then wrapped around his waist. Securing the bag tight to his body. Nearly bogging him down with the number of things he had in there. But the rope had to stay. Something Bobby said once about how humanity would collapse without ropes and string. So in they get.
He noticed a crab scuttle in the corner and wondered how the fuck it got in among the chaos before he was tossed once again into his bed.
Focus!
Old memories of plans for surviving emergencies would have had him reaching for a lighter, water bottles or water purifiers to make water safe to drink, a flare gun, handgun and ammo, whistle, and hiking boots. But none of that mattered now. Dean knew that Sam could and would provide all he needed for survival. Now he just needed things that Sam couldn't provide. Dean reached for a mylar emergency blanket and poncho from beneath the stairs and stuffed that into the side pocket of the bag. He figured it could be waved about in the air and have the sunlight catch on it. Or keep seafood fresh. Something. Dean doesn't have time to debate with himself. He has to grab and go NOW.
Dean was almost out the door before he remembered his cell phone. The memory card might still be good. His other emergency beacons were sent up days ago with the message in a bottle. The cb radio was still missing and now it will never be found because they are probably miles away by now.
The ship groaned menacingly and he had just enough time to grab hold of his necklace and throw it on over his head, before the broken mast was shoved down into the bag that his ship was in. Only now realizing his whole ship was in a single hand woven bag. He initially thought Sam was just carrying the ship in his arms.
Huh. So Sam was busy last night. Finishing the ship bag. He was touched at the consideration and hated that it would be all for naught. But… at least it's helping now.
He looked up at the waving edges of the kelp bag as they buffeted against Sam's massive body. The ship moving only slightly smoother now that Sam didn't have the broken mast poking him in the neck. It was shifted again to apparently rest diagonal across Sam's upper body with the stern of the ship at his hip. The broken mast joined the rest of the ship in the bag.
He could hear Sam mutter something that was not at all reassuring. "Carry don't crush. Carry don't crush."
Fuck. That's a real possibility now isn't it. It's so easy for Sam to crush his ship that he's fucking reminding himself not to crush it! Dean has to get out of here right fucking now!
Dean was at the top of his stairs and looking straight up but couldn't make out too much with the kelp bag in the way. Seeing and feeling that wing fin beat every few seconds. The ocean water crashing around the body. Dean has to get out of here before the ship is accidentally crushed.
This is gonna suck.
Dean pushed himself up and out of the ship, beating his tail hard and fast to get clear of all the twisted wires and ropes that attached the mast to the ship. Not wanting to get tangled up in any of them. Quick flashbacks to being tied up by his ankle and drowned had him attempt to kick free but ended up with his long tail beating away at the mast lines. He had to remind himself time and again that he doesnt have two tails anymore, just one. And he has to get it together in his head to get anywhere.
Briefly, his blanket whipped and tangled with some rigging but he was able to tug it free before it got too entangled with it. As soon as he was free of the lines, the broken upper mast section swung towards him. Dean gasped and swam hard away from it, getting immediately caught up in the tumultuous vortex currents caused by Sam's massive body. Sam plowed through the water churning it up as he passed Dean's position unknowingly.
The force of the current knocking Dean around in the water until he didn't know which way was up. Clutching on tight to the satchel because there was nothing else he could hold on to. Breathing fast and near panicking. The giant blur of blue and brown finally passed him and the water evened out after a few more whirlpooling eddy's.
He got his head on straight after a moment and immediately tried to call out to his giant friend but in just a few seconds, Sam was thousands of feet away.
"Sam!" Dean struggled to right himself. His tail flipping about awkwardly in the swirling water. Unused to being this far above the ocean floor he started to really panic. "Sam! Sam help!" He pushed the bag around his chest to rest along his back as he watched how Sam swam and tried to copy it.
There was no contest. Dean didn't have wing fins or even a dorsal fin at all. He clawed at the water towards his friend and watched in fear as the massive body moved too fast, too far away. Quickly getting lost in the distance. A rumbling filled the area and he could just barely make out something churning up tons and tons of sand and silt. It was far enough away from him so he couldn't see what it was, but apparently it was chasing Sam.
"Oh no you don't." Dean growled at the mystery thing and knew he had to get back to Sam.
Dean looked down at the ocean floor and aimed his body towards it as he swam. Choosing to follow the churned up silt that Sam's mad dash made in the ground. It almost resembled a snake's tracks through sand. It was better than getting immediately turned around up there. Directionless. Lost. A few hundred feet above the ocean floor and exposed.
He shot terrified looks all around, half expecting a shark to be hunting him down. He dove straight down immediately after to make himself less of a floating target. Leveling out and putting on another burst of speed now that he could beat his tail against the floor and push pull at the sand for an added boost. His front half looking like he was running like an animal and his back half like a manatee with somewhere to be. It was a massive struggle because all his life he swam with legs and now they're fused and he's got to remember how he did it yesterday. Having both sides work as one. His spine protested the new configuration and strain.
Dean had to admit there was probably a far better way to swim but right now, he's just trying to reach Sam and not die.
Dean was out of breath before long. The trail Sam left became erratic every once in a while. Dean stopped in his tracks when he heard a bellowing cry up ahead. Pain in every shout and roar. His heart breaking as Sam screamed, "No! No!"
Dean pushed himself to go faster. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He couldn't deny his clumsiness in the water. He was only marginally faster at swimming with a proper tail than he was with human legs. This shouldn't be possible. He should be much faster than this. But it feels like he's creeping along. Play pretend at being a Mer in someone's backyard swimming pool.
"This is real life, Dean. Get your ass in gear already!" He used his hands to help him keep upright and on course. Wishing that his bag wasn't being such a bitch and would suddenly become streamline.
"Fuck!" he cursed at the same time he heard Sam cry out.
Then, there was a shrill siren going off above the water and flood lights aimed downwards where he could see Sam in the distance, thrashing around. What was going on? Why wasn't Sam swimming away?
Two other ships are approaching him as well, dragging something behind each ship. It was still too far to see clearly for Dean so he kept on going as fast as he could.
"No! No! Stop!" Sam's terrified voice sounded strained with emotion. Dean could see his ship in Sam's hands, being broken apart. Dean has just a moment before he hears Sam's sad voice, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." and sees the titan carefully break the ship apart, clearly looking for him in there.
"Sam!" Dean tried again but knew it was useless. He was too small and too far from the giant Mer. All he could do was hear and see Sam search for him and call out his name and beg for him. "Dean! Get away from me! Get far away from them! Please! Save yourself!" and after more thrashing and churning silt he heard Sam's cry, "Go, Dean! Please Go!"
He doesn't know that Dean's already far away from him. That there's no way in hell he would leave Sam now and is trying to get back to him.
Dean could see pinpricks of light ahead that blossomed into small explosions. The sound came a moment later.
Depth charges.
What the fuck? Why… why is someone setting off depth charges? Aren't those used only for submarines?
Dean's mind couldn't compartmentalize all that was happening and he was getting lightheaded and disoriented. Water rushed through his lungs too fast for oxygen to be properly absorbed. He wondered if those bursts of lights were only in his head. His body was slowing down and he gasped in water, struggling to keep himself upright.
Flashing lights and distant booms.
Memories of old war movies with barrels full of explosives being dropped from battle ships and set to explode when they got to a certain depth or if they hit something.
The dread he felt in his gut doubled. His head cleared once his body slowed. Sam. They were attacking Sam. Sam wasn't on his way to help some random submarine, he was trying to escape and then those people started dropping depth charges. Oh fuck.
Dean could only hope that Sam wasn't directly involved. That maybe, while Dean was asleep, Sam heard the commotion going on, grabbed Dean's ship and made a break for it. Getting caught up in something that had nothing to do with them. A misunderstanding. Dean would explain it to him. It will be ok. He can lead Sam away from that shit before he gets hurt.
Dean swam as fast as he could. Pushing back up away from the ocean floor because his hands couldn't get much traction on the sandy ground.
"Don't hurt him. Please don't hurt him. God please don't let them hurt Sam." He prayed between gasps.
"You brought me back so we could be together right? So keep him here! Keep him alive!"
Dean's newly fused tail burned. The muscles were burning. But he had to swim, crawling was taking too long.
Dean swam for another few minutes, watching the other two ships circle the largest one hovering far above Sam. Dean cursed at seeing even more depth charges go off. Sam's form just barely made out ahead in the bursts of light and the floodlight shining down, thrashing around as if he's being compressed somehow. There's a cloud of red coming from Sam's body. Not silt or sand, blood. Was he hit?
His giant clawed hands are pushing and pulling against something… a net. He's stuck in a massive net! And if even Sam can't break out of it means that it's a net made out of metal meaning his paltry knife is useless. Did he bring the wire cutters? He didn't think he needed wire cutters!
Sam cried out a few times, horrible wails and howls of pain. He's obviously looking for Dean in the ship and can't find him.
He could see his ship in Sam's hands, falling apart and his belongings drifting down through the net and a few things floating upwards now that they aren't tethered to the ship, his cooler, mattress, the life raft which was set off and started inflating itself far above Sam's head. The giant didn't notice it at all.
Dean cursed. That's not going to leave a good impression to those bastards on the boats. Thinking that Sam was killing people. The worst part was, he couldn't even refute it. Sam did attack Dean's ship at their first meeting, and Dean did die. But good luck trying to convince those people that they hugged it out and everything is cool between them.
Fucking hell.
Dean winced at the new wail of pain as Sam's wing was wrenched out of socket. It also looks like his right arm is pinned down so he can't even put it back by himself.
Dean swam on with renewed vigor, he had to cut that net off of Sam. He had to find something that can deal with that net. Dean started tugging at the bag so it was in front of himself and flipping the flap open with one hand, tucking it between it and his chest. But since his hands were mostly preoccupied in searching, he himself was sinking down to the ground.
He longed for two legs. If this whole shitstorm was above water he could be running and looking in his bag. But as it is, he needs his hands to swim. He can't check and see if he has wire cutters or not in that bag which means he has to keep it with him. Fuck.
Ditching the bag would make his ass go so much faster! He did however ditch the blankets around his waist. The billowing wasn't helping much either. He told himself that he could come back for it after he saves the day.
His hoodie was pinned by the bag so he couldn't ditch that and swim too. He rolled up his sleeves, pulled at the strings of the hood to keep it from billowing open and acting like a parachute. It helped, a little.
"I gotcha Sam, I'm coming."
Dean was scared when he saw Sam's eyes go hard and he angled as much of himself upwards as he could while still being curled in on himself in painful bends and angles. Sam roared up at his attackers, "Murderers!"
Did Sam know something he didn't tell Dean before? Did humans hunt down other Mers besides his parents two centuries ago? Not just accidental deaths from pollution, but actual murders?
Now that Dean was closer he could see two similar shaped ships settling in close to the first, dropping anchors, flanking Sam on all sides. There was no doubt that they knew what they caught. Normal boats that were after fish would be spread out to maximize the catch, but these were clearly working together.
Sam's struggles grew fewer and weaker. Two more depth charges fell right next to Sam. Dean was shouting his name as he scrambled to get there but saw the titan slump down towards the ground as if he passed out.
Or died.
"No no no no no," Dean chanted as he felt tears collect in his eyes, wiping them away harshly on his hoodie shoulder.
There was much clamoring going on above the water. Sirens going off, shouting, things banging around and being dragged. None of it bode well.
Dean neared the area and started coughing at the sheer amount of blood in the water. The sand and silt only now starting to settle once Sam stopped thrashing around.
Dean had to back up and try and find some fresher water to breathe and was reminded of the disturbing story Sam told about how his parents had died and their blood choked the waters.
"He's not dead. Not dead. Not dead." he kept on repeating himself, no one else around to reassure him or to help. His heavy bag was opened and he immediately started to rummage around inside it for the wire cutters he hoped were inside.
Sam was still a hundred feet away but towered over the land. From this close, the extent and details of the damages made him sick. The net had cut into Sam's body in so many places that it was getting hard to tell where one cut ended and another began. Scales as large as Dean's hands were floating around now. Torn from his skin with a few having a few bits of flesh still attached.
Dean had to swim away in disgust. The blood clogged his senses.
A flash of an image crossed his mind. Sharks swimming around in bloodied waters. An image of someone being attacked by a bull shark that was going after their hip, tearing at it. Pulling the small person around, all while a child wailed in pain and terror. Trying to grab the shark to get themselves free but it was hopeless.
His own voice calling out a name. A protective instinct swelling in his chest. Dean would die for him. His little brother.
The vision was ripped from him the instant something fell on him. Another large blue scale. It startled the shit out of him and he bolted away to hide among a few boulders nearby. Struggling like mad to get his heart and head under control.
"What was that?!" he shouted as his hands clutched at his pounding head. Gripping his hair and nearly pulling it out. His vision was tunneling. Waiting out the headache and pain he felt in his chest. Intense feelings of determination, guilt and loss. Curling in on himself and feeling a phantom pain in his chest in the jagged shape of a circle. Sharp points digging into his chest. He moaned in pain and frantically patted himself down, searching for the wound that surely must be there. Holding his hands up and looking for blood but finding none. All the while his heart hurt and he just wanted to curl up and cry.
Dean finally was able to draw in some fresher water, the spots in his vision dissipating slowly and he only just realized they were there, now that the horrible vision was leaving. That child. Screaming in agony. Reaching for him.
His head felt less cloudy and he looked back up at Sam's slumped body. Still towering over him even as it remained still and bound in that damned metal net. Sam was half sitting on his torn hip fin. It was not far away and kind of visible. Dean stared at it for long moments. That's where the child was bit in his vision.
Just as he was about to get closer, hand reaching out to the damaged fin, as if to soothe it, he saw a half dozen people get into the water with diving gear. They didn't spot him yet but it made him stop in his tracks. At the moment, it looks like they were getting ready for something. No doubt to get a good look at their catch.
Looking down at himself, and then at the people kicking about with plastic fins strapped to their feet. It slapped him in the face with the realization that they would not see him as a fellow human. He was a Mer now. And fair game.
Dean forced himself to hide as he watched the people gather bags of supplies up there, and prepare for a deep dive. He hadn't done one himself before but saw enough videos and heard enough about the process to know how long it takes to get ready.
These first few people in the water were there to help the actual deep divers. They were keeping their heads above water for now. More things were being dropped from the boats. Water drones. No mini subs yet. Maybe they didn't have enough time to get them. These looked like ordinary fishing trawlers. They seemed to only be prepared enough to catch Sam and depth charge him, not to do exploratory work down here. That required stupidly expensive equipment and planning.
Maybe luck was on his side.
They were pretty far down so the bends are a real threat to humans, even if they did have a sub. Dean wondered how long it would take before word got out about their catch and everyone swarms here.
He had to hope that this was a half assed plan to catch the giant Mer. Or that they weren't after Sam originally but something else, and opportunity knocked. Whale hunters? Did they think that Sam was fucking Moby Dick? Or the first ship spotted something big in the water and called in their buddies to help out once they saw just how big Sam was?
Dean thought back to his fish finder and how the image he thought was a submarine bent in the middle then spread out. Now knowing it was Sam's wings and tail bending in the water. He was more terrified than curious and not at all equipped to handle it, so he fled. These guys figured correctly that they could handle it and did so. And now Sam is suffering because he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He has to help Sam. It's not Sam's fault he's big and scary.
Dean bit his lip and said hell with it. It's now or never. He kept himself low, swimming between boulders to help hide his shape and got closer to Sam. Finally reaching him and seeing how royally screwed he was. Several metal nets were so twisted and caught around Sam that it would take a miracle to get it all untangled. And impossible without the big guys' help.
Still. Dean couldn't just sit back and watch them kill Sam. Because why else would they set off explosions around him?
The blood that seeped from the wounds was finally slowing, making it easier to work around the massive body. He had to tell himself it was Sam's skin sealing shut and healing, and not because the heart stopped pumping the blood.
At least the wires weren't cutting more wounds into the skin. Dean edged out a bit of the wire from a deep cut and gently put it on a new part of skin so he could see it well enough to cut it.
His hands dove back into his bag across his torso and finally found a rusty pair of wire cutters, but scowled at the fact that they were needle nose pliers. The wire cutter part of the pliers just barely fit around the wires and he noticed that the handle felt small in his grip. Flexing his fingers around it he noticed that his hand was bigger than the handles. Just another thing that's now different with his body. He must be 11 to 12 feet long.
Fucking FOCUS!
Dean firmed his grip on the seemingly child size pair of pliers and squeezed hard and the wire cut easily. Bigger body, stronger grip. Awesome!
Wasting no time, he cut the neighboring wires and started working away to free the spaces closer to Sam's right hand that Dean could see was curled around his side. If he could free his hands, Sam could help get these nets off. So Dean wedged his tail into a fold in the net to help keep himself steady and attached to Sam as he worked. Snipping away one wire at a time. Shouting Sam's name between grunts. Hoping beyond hope that he will wake up again.
He was able to make a fair amount of progress but the nets were still hopelessly tangled around the long tail fins and wings. Dean moved to a section around the worst of it when he heard the humans start to make their descent. Bubbles and machines whirring above. He scrambled back and underneath the fin he was working on to hide.
The divers were taking pictures and video first and going by the hand signals were ordering each other to get closer to show scale and size of their catch.
It ticked Dean off that his brother was seen as a specimen and he felt shame in his gut at the memory of himself having that same desire. To be noted as the discoverer of a new species. He gripped his arm tightly and twisted as self punishment and to get his head back on straight, clipping away under the fin even as he hid. Might as well work, they didn't seem like they were leaving any time soon and if he made a dash for it now he'd be spotted.
So he got the hole around Sam's end fins on the right side done and was about to move underneath Sam towards the left when he heard another siren going off. Half of the divers went topside again while the others were taking more pictures. Changing shifts to keep the exposure down here to a minimum.
Air bubbles form in human blood vessels and bones at these depths if they are exposed for a long time. Resurfacing too fast causes a list of problems like decompression sickness and oxygen toxicity. They only had a short while down here without proper gear and pressurizing first.
Dean watched as the remaining crew also went back top and saw new people get into the gear to come down next. They would take shifts. Of course.
Dean had an idea. It wasn't a good one, but it's all he had at the moment.
Dean kept muttering, "This is crazy, this is crazy." as he swam straight up to the ship that didn't have a net attached to Sam yet, but did have long cables that were drooping far below. No doubt intended to tie around whatever part of Sam they could get to, to keep him tethered.
Dean grabbed a hold of one of the trailing ropes and used it to keep himself steady as he breathed through his panic. Just a few days ago he would have shouted for joy at seeing a ship, but now it filled him with fear.
"This is so stupid. Shut up. It will work. Don't fuck this up." he coached himself and finally breached the water. But only the top part of his head. His mouth sucking in water quickly as his eyes adjusted to the unfiltered sunlight. It almost burned his vision after spending so long in the dark. Even knowing it was pitch black in the true depths, and that this was still high up considering how far down the ocean could go. Where Sam had planned on taking him once he was trained and ready. He may never get the chance to see it. To be the first person born on land to touch the bottom of the ocean with his bare hands.
The thick goopy tears that protected his eyes from the water were now blocking out images. Tears not just from the light but emotions swarming his head. Regrets. Guilt. The tears were making it all seem like he's looking through the bottom of coke bottles. Wiping them off, he felt the air burn at his eyes but the images cleared somewhat. Sounds became sharp and piercing and rumbled differently at the same time. He was sorely tempted to just go back underwater again. This shit hurts.
He risked taking a breath of air and immediately started coughing and choking up the water in his lungs. Feeling like he's drowning he went back under again and vomited out the air that made its way in. Hacking and burning his lungs as it rid themselves of air as if it were toxic smoke.
It took another few minutes to get his bearings again. Flashes of his previous deaths coming back unbidden and unhelpful. He's gonna need to see a shrink if his previous lives don't shut the hell up.
So breathing air is out. He could still talk though, so long as water filled most of his lungs. It hurt doing the SOS video from his ship earlier in the week, but now…
He psyched himself up to try again and lifted his head above water, saying in a soft voice, "Help." and then a little louder when that felt ok. "Help."
Not nearly loud enough to get anyone's attention. So long as he took it slow and steady he could speak just like before, but he'd need to breathe between sentences. The air wasn't as humid as he'd like, like how it was in his galley, so it burned his throat. He breathed rapidly to oxygenate his blood and to pump himself up for this monumentally stupid idea.
Dean shouted up to the ship he was holding onto which was opposite the ship from where the divers were spilling out.
"Hey! I lost my mask and we need some bolt cutters!" and gripped the cable so tight his hands were sore. A mantra of berating comments bouncing around his head. 'Stupid stupid so stupid. They look down and see my fucking tail, I'm dead meat.' and tried to hide his lower half under the curve of the ship as he called up again, "Hey! Sorry but I lost my bolt cutters! Can you send me down a pair?"
A few men leaned over the side to stare down at him some twenty feet from the deck. Even his blurry vision could tell they thought he looked odd from that angle.
"You alright?" they finally asked, resting on their forearms on the rail.
Dean ducked down to breathe deep before turning his head back up. Showing that he's holding onto a cable. "I'm good, just need those bolt cutters. The divers say the cable is pinching a spot we need to free up." trying to keep it vague because he didn't actually know their plans moving forward with Sam. It was also painfully obvious that he wasn't one of the deep divers since he wasn't encumbered with black rubber equipment and tanks. He pretended to be one of the helpers instead. Put the blame of missing bolt cutters on someone else. Don't mind him, he's just the messenger.
They nodded and threw down a simple ladder to him from over the side.
"NO! I mean… I'm good in here, I just need those cutters." Dean said, shaking as he saw a few more men show up to lean over the rail. Praying they didn't see his shoulder bag or tail or any of the other dozen things that are wrong with this picture. If anyone came down here they'd see that he was a giant himself among humans. He was nearly twice as long as a normal person. He was hoping that the distance would help hide that fact. He had to pray they kept their distance. He could already tell that some were murmuring to others and using their hands as if measuring something as they talked quietly. Clearly suspicious but not able to put their finger on what's wrong.
And it made sense, they would never suspect there to be anyone else out here besides people on their team. No small boats or interlopers showed up so far. They had to assume Dean belonged to the crew on one of the other ships.
"Didn't wanna piss off yer boss huh? Going to yer own ship and admit you lost yer gear?"
Dean ducked down enough to breathe deep again, making it look like he was embarrassed.
"You got me." he called up and shrugged.
Some laugh at his expense. He played the part of a newbie and looked appropriately chastised. All the while his heart hammered in his chest. Tail beating against the bottom of the ship. Subconsciously looking for footholds and finding none.
Some nodded sagely and talked a bit more animatedly with each other about the dumbass newbie being used as bait if he didn't want to listen to orders. A few others regaled their own tails of dumbassery when they were newbies. Endearing Dean to themselves.
Others angrily yelled at him for separating from his group and not following protocol. Dean wondered what the fuck kind of protocol there was for catching Giant Mers and realized he did not want to know. Just get his giant pain-in-the-ass brother free so they can get the fuck out of here.
Soon enough some heavy bolt cutters were dropped down to him in a metal basket along with an oxygen tank and mask and a cheeky copy of a handbook for new hires on the ship. Clearly unread but old as hell going by the crisp pages and sun bleached cover. They hadn't read this manual either.
He did laugh at that and waved his hand at the guffaws that sounded out above. He pretended to fasten the mask to his face and accept the tank and cutters but as soon as he went under, ditched what he did not need underneath the ship and swam fast to Sam's side.
Game face on.
He made sure to keep out of view of the other divers and started the long arduous task of clipping the net away from the long heavy metal bar. The cables here were far thicker than the net and needed the bolt cutters. The thing that was most tied around Sam was the first net that fell. The other nets were draped on top of it and the divers were there to fasten it securely. If they had nothing to fasten it to, Sam should be able to push it all off of him once it's freed from the horizontal bar and escape.
The bolt cutters felt more like small hedge trimmers in his giant hands and he made quick work of the bar. The hard part was keeping his own ass steady to work. His tail angling along beside the bar and other times curling under himself so he could sit up on it to work.
It seemed to take forever but he finally got the last one snipped and looked proud at the work he'd done. Frowning when he saw Sam was still dead to the world. Dean swam up to Sam's face and reached through the several layers of nets to touch at the nose. Just barely getting his claws to catch on the skin. No reaction. The nets were heavy and huge and did not want to move no matter how hard he tugged at them. He could hear some excited calls from some of the divers as they finally came back down.
Looking over, his heart dropped at the sight. Six divers were hovering still in the water, looking at the Mer that was trying to wake up their catch.
A camera flash was what jolted him into moving from the standoff.
They got his picture. Oh shit. Shit shit shit. He dove back down and had to hide among the folds of Sam's tail and fins, hearing more excited muffled calls from the divers and a stream of bubbles from oxygen tanks following after him.
He had to make a quick decision and either leave Sam now, or be trapped with him.
There was no way that he'd get this chance to be near Sam again. If he left now, they would have time to regroup and go for harpoons and shit. Keeping him from saving Sam.
Dean went back down with his bolt cutters and swam underneath the three nets, touching Sam's tail and punching it all the way up as he made his way towards Sam's face. He had to double back a few times as the titanic body was all twisted up and hard to navigate when he's so close. He saw Sam's hand and patted it repeatedly. Punching and slapping his tail at the fingertips. Finally taking the bolt cutters to one of Sam's cuticles and pinching what should have been tender skin next to the nail but only got a finger twitch for his efforts.
"Sam! Wake up!" he screamed as he hooked the bolt cutters to the rope around his waist and clawed his way up the arm. Trying to dig in with his claws to wake Sam up and once the titan did wake up, to let him know exactly where Dean was so he wasn't squished by accident.
He knew he'd eventually find his brother's head up there somewhere. He had to keep going. He looked down and was shocked as hell to see two of the divers enter the net with him. The other four were following his progress outside of the net, talking to each other with excitement and more camera flashes. He paused in his ascent to flip them off and curse them out.
"You assholes leave him alone! He did nothing to you!" and saw their quizzical faces.
Dean wondered if he was speaking English or Mer just then. Too keyed up and upset to wonder for too long. "Sam! We're in big shit now if you don't wake the fuck up!" Dean swam in front of the wide expanse of chest and pushed up against Sam's lower jaw, rounding it and yanking at his lower lip. Hoisting himself up higher to the nose but the nets were keeping him from going any higher to Sam's eyes or ears. The weight of the nets keeping it taut.
Dean placed his hand against Sam's jugular and was happy it was still pounding away but at the resting rate it usually is at. Meaning it took nearly thirty seconds to feel the huge pulse thump once. Thirty seconds that allowed his pursuers to catch up.
The two underneath him had their hands up and were trying to sound soft and calming. Their words garbled to Dean's ears.
"Get away from us!" he spun around and curled himself around Sam's neck to protect it. He felt a swallow push against his side and looked up at the chin as it moved. The two humans under him froze and looked up as well.
A deep guttural rumbling sounded out and actually vibrated the water around Dean. He pushed away from the neck and looked up to what he could see of Sam's face. The lips working soundlessly before he groaned and coughed a little. Sending the two below scrambling back and getting their gear caught in the net.
Dean put aside the frantic calls from the four other divers to their buddies to get the fuck out of there.
Sam settled without waking fully, no matter how hard Dean tugged at the long hair or punched his jaw.
The divers' time must be up because he glanced over at the sound of choking and saw a couple clutch at their throats. Pointing upwards urgently. One broke off from the group or four outside, and was making a mad dash to the surface. Looking like he was trying to tear off the equipment so he could breathe.
The two inside the net were now clutching their necks and were going to drown. The bubbles thinning from their masks.
They may be assholes but he's not gonna let these fuckers drown. Besides, Sam and he will probably get blamed for it. He tried to convince himself so he doesn't develop sympathies for the enemy.
He gripped the bolt cutters and started making a hole in the net under Sam's chin as the others were fighting against the net in blind panic. The other three divers were swimming up to the surface now, ditching the two inside. He wanted to blame them but couldn't. They were going to die too. They had to save themselves.
Dean finally got a hole cut big enough for himself and then some and dove down to the two and grabbed each by hand. They fought against him but he managed to let one go and grab the other, easily maneuvering them through the new hole in the net. He pushed them upwards but saw their movements start to jolt and jutter. Fuck! They were drowning! He grabbed the last one quickly and carried him out the hole with himself, pushing against Sam's face and reaching for the first one out. Holding both their hands he beat his tail hard to get the small humans up towards the surface.
Dean had to actually use their bodies as rudders in his swim since he couldn't use his hands to help angle the three of them.
They felt so small compared to him. Fucking child sized and seizing. It was when they went still is when he really started to panic. He saw the other four divers thrash around wildly up top and his first thought was to bring his two up somewhere else but gave up on that plan. What mattered most right this second was saving these people's lives and he can't do that. He can't do CPR on them since he breathes water now. And any compression he makes on their chests would just crush bones.
This was the first time he was scared of what his body could do to others.
Twenty feet, ten, five. He breached the water and gasped in the air on reflex but then coughed and hacked. Practically throwing the two dead weights at the other four as he let go and flipped backwards to get back into the water ASAP.
He was dimly aware of the twenty or so people that were now in the water, swarming around the two he'd just saved and even more were diving in around him. He was too busy ridding his lungs of the air to do much of anything. Best he could do was let himself sink down as he coughed and coughed.
He felt hands on him and jerked away. Pushing against the man that tried for his arm. He finally got his coughing under control and snarled at the next two that made a grab for his hoodie and sleeves.
"Back off assholes!" he beat his tail and backed off himself, pushing at the water to get deeper as more and more people entered the water. Cameras flashing, smaller nets being dropped. Poles sinking into the water attached to cables. Everything that isn't nailed down was now raining down on him.
"I just saved their lives and now you're trying to kill me?!" he turned and aimed back towards Sam. Realizing he'd lost the bolt cutters at some point. He'll find them on the floor. He has to. He felt something hit his back and thankfully the bag stopped it from hurting him too much. He just felt the weight of it push at him. Then there was a mighty yanking feeling and he was lurched upwards three feet.
A call sounding between many voices up there and another yank and another five feet of depth lost. They caught him! Dean twisted around to get at the hook that was lodged into his bag, twisting and flipping and grabbing hold of the cable himself. Trying to pull it from their hands but failing.
He had the sudden image of a fish caught on a hook and swore. Knowing how this usually ends up for the fish. He tore at the ropes attaching his bag to his waist to get them undone. All the while, a dozen men on the ship were reeling him in like a prize catch. Whoops and shouts of joy ringing out up there.
"Damnit!" he yanked at the ropes as they dug into his gut, twisted around his gills and made him gasp in pain as it was getting harder to breathe. Finally, finally he got the ropes untied just as he started to feel other ropes and hands grasp at him. He twisted around and allowed his bag to be ripped from his back and tried to flip again downwards but found a net had snaked its way directly underneath him. It lurched upwards just as he swam down and he caught the metal mesh in his face first.
Pushing against it and beating his tail frantically as the force of machines as big as buildings lifted him easily up towards the surface. He turned belly side up and every attempt to swim upwards and out of the net was thwarted by the net ascending that much faster. He was helping himself get caught.
He's gonna die. He's gonna suffocate and die!
The net steadily lifted him clear out of the water and the sound and light assaulted his senses. He pushed and pulled at the net and tried to hold onto what little water was in him for as long as he could. He could see the small opening at the top of the net and tried to climb up towards it. Reaching it, he pushed at it to open up wide enough to let his body through.
Shouts of alarms and warnings deafened him as shrill sirens went off. He felt the crane arm that was holding the net shake side to side and he lost his grip. Falling with a painful thud to the bottom of the net and pushing his meager supply of water from his lungs. He gasped in air and cried out in pain.
"Stop! Please stop! You're killing me! Stop! I can't breathe!" he gasped and heard a mix of whoops and hollers and angry shouts of orders. All a jumbled mess to his ears.
Dean felt water splash on him as he continued to gasp and choke. Still caught in the net, it weighed heavy on his body. He pushed against it and cried out in pain and fear. Then as if in slow motion. Just as his strength left him and he fell to his belly he felt the net lift again from the deck and move around. Then blessedly cool water rose up around him and he gasped in the stale water. Ridding his lungs of the toxic air and trying like crazy to breathe again.
The second thing to assault him besides the stale cold water was the fish scent and taste.
He was aware that he wasn't alone in this space as hundreds or even thousands of bodies swam around his net. Fish. they were about the length of his arm. He half expected the net to release him in with the fish but it stayed put around his body. At least he wasn't dying right this second.
He looked up at the square of light above and saw a hundred eyes looking down at him. More camera flashes and shouts of all kinds. Victory, anger, greed, pride.
Dean hung his head, grabbing the net in his hands. The hole up top was fastened closed while he was choking on the deck, so he couldn't even push it open and get out and into the tank. He was stuck in the net. He looked up with anger.
"I saved their lives." he said as clear as he could and shook the net. "I saved them. I didn't have to do that after the shit you did to Sam."
He saw a look of amazement cross some faces.
"Did you hear that?" a few whispered in awe.
"Yeah, it sounded like English." a dude with a cowboy hat said. They let him wear that?
"I am speaking English you idiots." Dean huffed.
More sounds of surprise. "Yer weren't before." The same older guy leaned his arms on the rail around the tank to peer down once again at Dean. "You were clicking and growling and such."
Dean paused at that and said, "You seriously didn't understand me before?"
"Clicks and whistles, Son. What are you?"
Dean had to reconsider a few things. They must have thought he was some dumb creature. Not understanding him at all earlier. Was he speaking Mer that whole time? Or maybe when he was stressed he forgot he wasn't speaking English?
"I was human. Just like you. A week ago. And Sam down there is not an enemy. Not yet anyway. Let us both go and you won't be our enemies."
A few backed away from the hole in the decking, out of earshot of Dean while others were taking selfies with their phones.
"Dude! Go get my phone and I'll prove it to you!" Dean was excited and swam up higher. "Go down there, get my bag and bring it to me. I can show you." Dean swam in a tight circle.
"A monster with a cell phone. Right. And who did you steal it from?" Cowboy hat scoffed.
"It's mine dumb ass. Got it from Savemart. Go and get it or let me go get it. I know you guys were running low on oxygen in your tanks. Otherwise you would have sent more people down earlier."
More murmurs.
A man wearing a nicer set of clothes came forward and others talked quietly to him and backed away.
"Sam's gonna wake up soon and if he doesn't see me you will all be sorry. Now go get my fucking cell phone!"
The same older man that spoke earlier piped up. "Yer clicking again, Boy."
Dean growled at him and took a few breaths. Struggling to speak English. "Please, would you be so kind as to go down and retrieve my bag. Or get it from that hook you caught me with. It's still attached. My cell phone is in the main compartment. It will need to dry out first but the sim card should be fine. It will have pics of me on my boat and my uncle when I set sail."
An idea came to him. "Better yet, call my uncle. He will help prove I'm human. I was human." he corrected himself. Dean wouldn't freely give out the number unless it looked like they believed him though, not wanting to get Bobby in trouble too if it was unnecessary.
"And who is Sam?" A Nicely dressed man asked.
"He's the one you chased down and netted." Dean crossed his arms.
"He was human too?"
"No. At least, not as far as I know. He might have been in a previous life. I don't know. I met him less than a week ago. He's harmless."
"Harmless." Clear doubt. He got a few laughs from the others. "Harmless?!"
Dean was fuming but kept his cool on the outside. English. The words were familiar and becoming foreign at the same time. He could understand it perfectly, thank God, but speaking it was getting hard. At least he could write. "He didn't attack anyone. I was the first human he ever met. He told me so."
"And he turned you into a monster like himself? Why?"
"It is complicated and it wasn't on purpose. He didn't know."
"It's like er vampire thing? Werewolf?"
"I don't know. I… maybe. I know it had something to do with our blood." Dean started rubbing at his head. A headache coming on. "Listen. I can barely think in this water. It's got almost no oxygen in it. Hell, half of these fish are dying. If you want me to live you gotta get me back into the ocean."
More talking. Debating.
"You gain nothing if I die," he shouted.
More talking, pictures. Frustration.
"You gain nothing if I die down here!" He repeated and paced around the small net, pushing against it and testing how strong the lock was. He started to cough for show but it really was stale water surrounding him. They needed to speed this up.
They seemed to come to a conclusion and finally addressed him again. "We will find a better place for you." And walked off a little ways but Dean could hear the next shouted order given. Oh, so that was the captain he was talking to. "I want a guard here at all times. No one is to enter this tank or take anything out of it. Not one fish. It might be contaminated."
"You're contaminated." Dean grumbled. Finally settling down to lay in the net as if it were a hammock. Damn he was tired. And hungry. "Got any food I can eat?"
"Sushi." a new voice said beyond the hole.
"Har har." he snarked back. "I can't eat what I can't catch."
"I'll find ya something. Sit tight." Cowboy hat said.
Dean was left alone after that. Waiting to hear what is going on. What will happen next? Worried that Sam's gonna wake up without Dean there. If he will swim away and look for him back along the path he took here. Wage war on the ships, killing everyone on sight. Thinking that he lost Dean back there at the first landing site instead of right here, above his head. And why would Sam stay? He's terrified of these ships. Ships like the ones that killed his parents. He wouldn't stick around to find Dean in the hold of one. Dean wanted to be saved. But that's being selfish isn't it. Sam deserves his freedom. He will leave if Dean convinces him to.
Dean had to pray they would listen to him and let him go back into the ocean. If only to keep Sam safe.
Dean will figure out how to save himself on his own. He's gotta play mediator between these two powerful forces. Having a foot in each world. Alright. Fin in each world.
Fuck. This is gonna be fun.