Sink or Swimchesters
Chapter Eighteen
Drag me Down
Dean's sleep that night was near catatonic. A natural coma to deal with the last big transformation that his body would go through. His body knew, even if his brain didn't, that it needed to be still for this to happen and the best thing to do would be make sure that he didn't wake up until it was done. Interrupting this shift in anatomy would be near disastrous.
Thankfully, Nature and his ever shifting physiology planned ahead and that was what drove Dean to consume more food than usual these past few days to better prepare himself.
Without his too tight swim shorts in the way anymore, his inner thighs were the first to fuse. The inside of his legs had been feeling raw and the skin there stretched thin. Tender to the touch so when he swam earlier, he tried not to have his leg tails touch too often. The surrounding water helped but it still felt sore after a day of rubbing against the fabric that grew tighter and tighter around his growing thighs.
His shorts were the last obstacle in the way of the tail fusing, and with that barrier removed it sped along nicely. His tails fidgeted in his sleep, adjusting here and there until it just felt right. Until they were lined up perfectly. All with Dean being totally unaware of how his body is moving and adjusting.
Somewhere, Nature is smiling softly as they help speed it along. Best to get it over with before Dean wakes up so that he would have no choice but accept his singular tail and stop pining over the loss of the two legs. If Dean kept those swim shorts on for good, his tails would have started to fuse to the fabric eventually instead, and then he'd be royally screwed. Really, this was for the best. Nature decided to give Dean some extra dopamine for being so good and brave about all this. Giving him pleasant dreams.
Nature has no human based shame when it comes to living thing's bodies. Humans had a lot of hang ups that had nothing to do with survival and almost everything to do with made up social norms between other humans.
Dean's physical anatomy is interesting but nothing to be ashamed of. They noticed that humans tended to hide their anatomy for a vast number of reasons. Beyond simple protection from the elements. They understood that most humans preferred to hide their sexual organs nearly all of the time. Mers simply don't have that. The concept was not only foreign but absurd. Play blankets and bandages were as close as they got to wearing clothes, and those were only worn as needed then removed when not. Their reproductive organs and waste removal organs are tucked away and Nature thought that that would be perfect for their new little Mer as well. To make sure that the need for clothes was gone and that Dean wouldn't have to worry about hiding any part of his body. It would only hinder his survival after all.
Clothes get caught on sharp edges, trip up humans, cause injuries. It's for the best that Dean doesn't have a reason to wear them anymore. So without further thought or any discussion with the former human in question, Nature went ahead and helped Dean hide his reproductive organs along with his waste removing orifices in a way very similar to other Mers. It wont be exact, but close enough. If Dean needs it, it will come out naturally and then go back in when he's done. Simple as that. Thousands of other animals have either the same or similar set up, so it shouldn't be anything to be upset about in the long run.
However, Nature is no fool. They've seen how Dean had reacted to everything else that happened to his body. That is to say, very very poorly. But They also saw how quickly Dean had adapted to the changes. Not even one week had passed and he seems alright with things so far. This isn't even as complex as changing his lungs to filter oxygen in not just ocean water but fresh water as well, same as all Mers. It was also tricky to alter nearly his entire digestive system to be able to eat anything that a Mer can eat. The bacteria living in Dean's gut that help with digestion thankfully shifted easily enough to raw seafood. Nature also made his body able to grow and live much longer than normal humans.
They hope. It will be up to the choices the two of them make that will decide how long Dean actually lives. If they can work together.
Nature was just glad that they were finally connecting. That the animosity between the two souls was disappearing and being replaced with trust and hopefully, friendship.
But, God willing, that is just a matter of time and not Their mission right now. For tonight and tomorrow, Their duty is to make sure that the new Mer is set up for success. Nature gently coaxed the two tails to mold into one. The skin fusing together and spreading out from the closest contact points until eventually, all that's left is a thin line where the left and right scales line up down the middle on the top and bottom.
The splash of color Nature granted Dean was a reward for being so good and still, allowing them to do their job without a lot of fuss. Nature was only able to do all this because Dean had died and joined with them just under a week ago. Beings that had been alive longer were less tied to the spiritual realm. Only fully connecting to it when they are deep asleep or come close to death. Most intelligent beings find the realm on accident during deep meditative states. Most Mers are able to accomplish something similar but go into those states of being in their heads to view their familial history through the eyes of their ancestors. Never really venturing beyond their family tree.
Sam's case was unique of course, since he was alone for most of his life he subconsciously latched on to the only family he had that was still coming back to the mortal planes. Sam didn't succumb to insanity like most Mers do when alone because Dean was still with him. Pulling his soul. Grounding him.
His parents decided not to reincarnate after they had died, because they thought that both their children would be there soon. Their souls were convinced that their poor children wouldn't live long without them, despite all the things they tried to teach them. Situations to prepare the young boys for a hard life. Dean was offered to stay with his parents but chose to come back to Sammy. He doesn't remember any of this though. Too much happened all at once and he forgot his choice, but never the instinct his soul had to get back to his brother. Life after life he had felt something missing, until that feeling diluted and faded with each passing body.
Sam's meditative states kept that bond going whether he knew it or not. His and his brother's dedication to protecting the oceans' creatures is what gave Nature and God the idea of using him and his brother. Guiding them to their shared goal and helping them along as best they can. The brothers still had free will of course, nothing would ever change their right to choose how they live their lives.
Nature just had to finish up Their end of the deal. The one Dean agreed to. He would be brought back to life and have his body changed so that it could survive and thrive in the deep. What he decided to do afterwards with his new life was all up to him. The boys were given this intermediate time where God and Nature kept them free from external conflict. Time to reconnect, to heal, to get used to this whole new dynamic and situation they had. Once Dean was fully changed, God and Nature were going to let them go do what they do. And for the outside world to do what it wants to do with them. This time, this week, was a kind of 'pause' button for them.
They couldn't keep them isolated from the outside world forever. But the two boys won't be isolated from Them. Dean and Sam could reconnect with Them through Meditation or dreams. Ask for advice, converse, or just rest and heal.
Dean obviously wasn't one to meditate, and only slept for a few hours on good nights, so, Nature didn't have long to make all these changes to Dean's body. He will soon be fully set and immersed back into the living world. Forgetting day by day his time in the spiritual world where he got to commune with Them.
Nature wanted to take just a few more hours working on his tail, to show off a little and gave Dean another dose of melatonin and dopamine as they finished up.
Dean would wake up eventually with one long elegant tail. The oranges and auburns would form asymmetrical splashes and spots all over it, fading around his belly and chest to the beige color of his skin. Similar to Sam, his back would be darker than the undersides of his body, nothing too dark, but better hiding him were he to lay on his stomach on the ocean floor. Since Dean is still so small, Nature thought it would be best if he didn't venture to the deep trenches just yet. So therefore, Dean would best benefit from having colors and patterns that could hide him in more shallow waters. Amid coral reefs, soft sand, and kelp forests. Adding those lines and spots of seagrass green in random areas to help break up Dean's outline. Likewise, the ends of his fins are tapering off to thinner wavy edges instead of the thicker edges that his brother has.
When and if Dean decides to go deeper to the trenches, his Mer genes will adapt accordingly and slowly shift his coloring to better match the depths. Sam had lived most of his life down there, and so his blues turned darker to better blend in.
Dean's former ankles and feet would be the only parts of the tail that were still separated, resembling a traditional mermaid tail more than one like Sam's with his four end fins. Dean is able to move his own like a seal's feet flippers, independently, for better maneuverability. Marginally closer to his original body than trying to make the poor boy adapt to a completely foreign set up.
Dean was right in assuming that the 10 fins all along Sam's tail each represent a toe that would have eventually evolved to move further down the length of the tail to end up as feet just like the common ancestors. Sam can move each of his fins independently, but Dean never learned how to move each of his toes individually. Best he could ever do in any life was to move his big toe around by itself. The other toes always 'followed the leader'. So, Dean's feet became the two large fused fins and it will just have to do. Fish mostly rely on the caudal peduncle to move the thin tail, while Dean has thin muscles all down to the end connecting to the bone turned cartilage. So he has far more control over those fins. The adipose fins along the sides of his tail will help in changes in course and to keep him balanced, but that part will take time to learn.
The morning after their game with the path puzzle, the 'maze', Sam was excited to get the day started. Going over all the new things he'd learned from and about Dean the days before. Happy to have the chance to understand and eager to learn more.
He crept forward to Dean's ship on his forearms and end fins. Using a single claw he carefully slid the door open. Trying very hard not to damage it or rock the whole ship around. He grinned at how he managed to move it without a sound and tried to peer inside without spooking his tiny brother in there. Keeping a safe distance from the door. Imagining his own giant eye peering in through the hole into the den where Dean is still slumbering on. Sam frowned when he could just barely make out something in there, curled up in a circle on something that was flat and soft looking. Guess Dean grew a little in his sleep. He seemed longer by a teensy bit. Or maybe it was a trick of the shadows
Until now, Sam didn't have a chance to really look inside without disturbing Dean. He tried to figure out what all the tiny little things were but was coming up with more questions than answers. Dean had introduced Sam to the miracle of 'boxes' yesterday and how they can actually hold things inside. Sam had seen much larger versions and more sturdy versions of them before on things Dean identified as 'tanker ships' that had sunk. Sam just didn't think that these boxes would be strong being much smaller than the others. Dean's ship was filled with box-like shapes and floating amid them were more of those 'clothes' and debris.
Sam's fingers itched to snag out a few things from inside there to take a better look at them. To learn all he can about what they are, what they are made of, what they are used for.
Previously, he had simply buried all things human to save the areas surrounding the wreckages. He dared not inspect too long for fear of getting sick like many others Mers and creatures from the human poisons that leaked out. Now, he was assured that Dean's belongings were not toxic to him. So long as he didn't try and eat them of course.
Sam waited for a little while longer for Dean to wake up but ultimately decided to let him be. He carefully shut the door again and decided to go grab something for them to eat. Thankfully he had a stash already available of seagrass, and put a small bundle of it just outside of the door leading into the cave of Dean's ship. Right. The Hull.
A few more hours pass and Sam is bored. True, this has been the most exciting few days in the past 200 years, but, now that there's some quiet time, he's finding it hard to keep still. He's already craving more things to learn and do with his tiny brother.
Sam idly munches on some of the seagrass to waste a few moments of time but it does nothing to stop his fidgeting. He figures he might as well make good on his promise of making a bag big enough for Dean's ship while he's busy sleeping the day away. Sam blocks a bit more of Dean's door with more seagrass, disguising it from the outside from any potential predators. Dean would be able to leave if he needed to, but figured he still had a few hours before he woke up.
Every night, Dean seems to need at least half an entire day's worth of sleep. Sam wondered if it was just from the stresses he's had to go through, or if this was totally normal for him. Regardless of circumstances.
In any case, Sam figured he had a little bit of time before his presence was required so he double checked the surrounding areas to make sure there was nothing even remotely dangerous, and quickly made his way over to the long seaweed forest to harvest as many of the long strands as he can carry. He had to use just one hand to claw at the rocky bases instead of two since he sheared off his claws on his other hand. It made it take a bit longer than usual. His anxiety was ramping up the longer it took and he had to breathe deep for a few minutes to get his head on straight again. Switching up his usual harvesting motions to have the clawless hand hold and clawed hand cut. Pinning the bundles under his arm as he went, using his wing fins to keep himself steady.
Finally, he figured he had enough and rolled them all together on the ocean floor and tied it up using the longest of the strands, then pinning the whole bundle to his chest and belly, he bolted back home. Remembering to slow it down again well before coming in view of Dean's ship. It still ended up rocking a little and he abandoned the bundle to hastily right the ship again. It jolted in his hands and he bit his lip. Just waiting for the screaming inside to start, the berating and angry tirade to make him feel even more guilty… but nothing happened.
Sam slowly pressed an ear to the side of the ship and heard Dean shuffle around before settling again. Sam sighed in relief and thought he might as well prop the ship up in its natural upright position that it had been in when it was still floating on top of the water. Sam held it steady with one hand, and filled in the hole with large boulders and then cushioned it with sand to keep the sides from being scraped up. As gently as he did anything concerning Dean, he rested it back down and was very pleased it was no longer listing at an angle. Sam pushed more sand up along all the edges of the ship to make sure that the natural currents didn't drag away the supports. Piling up a few more boulders along the edges to keep the sand mound in place.
That done, he retrieved what he had so far for his kelp blanket and settled himself down a little ways away again, in his nest, facing the ship so he would have a good view of Dean emerging. Sam sorted out the kelp by length, then by strength and stripped the larger leaves off of them to reveal the strands better. Making sure to leave the smaller leaves so that there are fewer spaces between lines. He laid out a grid and went to work weaving the main strands together, going over to Dean's ship a few times to make sure that the bag would be long enough for it.
Dean said his ship was 40 feet long, but that was including what he called the pulpit. The long nose that Sam had crushed in his hand a few days ago. The pulpit was probably 8 feet long by itself originally, now an embarrassing mangled 8 feet. Sam imagined Dean's former body walking along the flat narrow path and resting his hands on the… what did he call that? Rail. Resting his hands on the rail. The rail is that thing that keeps humans from falling off the ship. Most of the rest of the rail was still intact, though bent from where Sam's probing hands had rested on it or pushed too hard. He carefully bent part of the pulpit back into place, holding the rest of the ship with his other hand to keep it steady.
It wasn't often that Sam touched Dean's ship, knowing the dangers and damages he could cause. But he wanted to fix something for once. So as gently as possible, he pulled the rail back outwards and pinched at the flat part that humans used to stand on. It was all see through metal so it bent easily enough back into shape. Pinching here and there to make it look like it used to. Remembering what it looked like before he crushed it in his hand as he pulled it down for a better look. Sinking it in the process.
Sam felt shame color his cheeks and neck as he tried to fix what else he'd broken. The white shell of the ship wasn't all wood and once it cracked he couldn't do anything to fix it. But, the metal was bendable. He angled his head down to see those uh… the spinning things… Dean said they were engines. Propellers. His claws had sheared and tore the propellers off as they spun into his claws. He tried to pinch the round fins flat again but ended up tearing one off instead. Sam frowned at the minuscule bit of metal in his fingertips and dropped it with the rest of the debris that he and Dean had collected that first day.
Sam had seen a fair number of sunken ships, a few looked similar to Dean's and he recalled those engines and compared those that weren't broken to Dean's engines and it was clear that they would never spin again. Sam considered heading back to a few of the other sites and replacing Dean's engines with those, but gave up before even finishing the thought. Dean doesn't need engines anymore, there's no place he needs to be that Sam won't be.
Sam spent the next few hours staring at Dean's ship, repeating all he'd learned from Dean on what things were called and how they worked. Dean even helped identify other ships that Sam had described seeing and burying in the past. The former human was shocked to hear that in all those years Sam's been alive, he hadn't seen another living human soul. Or any skeletons in the other wrecks.
Sam wondered about that too. If humans were so vast, where were they all this time? They both figured out the reason why he never saw human bodies before Dean, the 'ecosystem' as Dean named it, would have stripped the carcass bare and then Osedax worms would have eaten the bones to finish it off. No evidence besides what animals couldn't eat.
Sam wasn't familiar with many rivers. He knew what they were, where some big ones were at, but never felt comfortable being up that high and close to the land and surface. Dean said humans tended to congregate close to rivers and the beaches and he just naturally stayed away.
But the ocean was vast and deep and there weren't many ships sinking in the middle of it. Sam rarely went close to the surface for any length of time. Anyone in the deep looking up wouldn't have a chance in hell at seeing a ship above.
'Cargo' ships were likely the ones with all of those long metal boxes. Those were showing up more and more. Dean was excited to hear about the old 'pirate' ships Sam had seen nearly 200 years ago, and seemed a little mad that Sam had destroyed and buried them too. Sam could only shrug. They were polluting the water.
He was amazed at how much Dean knew and tried his best to describe all the boats and ships he'd seen, going so far as to draw the rough outline for some that were harder to explain. Most of the wrecks were called 'fishing' boats. And those were found all over the place. Dean said they caught billions of tons of fish every year in huge metal nets. Some were razor wire nets for catching larger sea creatures.
Sam's diet couldn't come close to what humans ate. He wondered if there were enough land creatures for them all or if humans ate them all up first before going after the oceans. It would explain why certain fish populations were dwindling or straight up disappeared. And the only thing keeping Sam from exploding at Dean about the whale populations was the fact that Dean seemed just as upset about it as him. Thankfully, whaling wasn't as prevalent nowadays but it still happened. Sam couldn't say if he would destroy those ships before they sank…
Sam dared not bring up the shark populations either but this time it was due to Dean's past. Sam suspected that humans were the cause of the sharks going missing too. They seemed to want everything dead.
It was getting harder and harder for Sam to sympathize with humans. It wasn't bad enough that they leave their 'garbage' everywhere, that they were also killing off things for the hell of it. He's glad Dean isn't a human anymore. That one of them is saved from that lifestyle.
It was true, they did make amazing things. But at what cost?
He had to put that aside for now. Getting mad at the humans wasn't going to get him anywhere with Dean.
Back to his task. Killing time waiting for Dean to wake up.
Sam needed to distract himself from that train of thought and get some work done. He decided to not make a traditional square bag for Dean's ship, but one fitted for it specifically. It would be far more stable and safe if there were very few pressure points. If the whole thing was equally supported by the bag. It would also reduce the risk of tearing.
Sam used his hands to draw out the shape of the underside of the ship on the floor. Having refreshed his view of it as he was righting it in the sand. The long, flat, bottom fin of the ship was drawn out and he decided to simply leave a long horizontal hole in the bottom of the bag, so it could just poke out there. Reducing the risk of damaging the fin if the bag pulled to the left or right too sharply. He'll just have to make sure not to touch the fin itself when he's hauling it around.
Sam spent hours designing the bag until he was satisfied with the layout and plan, and then started the long process of weaving. Since it was such a new and odd shape he had to continuously count each line and loop so he didn't lose track of the long shape.
It took most of the day but he finally got a good base for the bag. Now for the easier part of weaving straight walls going up for a few dozen feet. The long pointy thing at the top, the 'Mast', Dean called it, would be another issue to deal with. Sam crept back over to the ship and just stared at it for a while. Gently draping a few lengths of kelp cord on the tops and figuring out how to tie it down once it's in the bag to keep it from lurching about. The mast was pretty sturdy, but the boon was still as wobbly as ever. Sam frowned at it all and decided to have Dean in on the decision making for what to do about the top of the bag besides the walls. If he wants there to be a cover over top or have it open. Sam will have to go back to the kelp forest a few times if he wants a cover… that can wait. He has plenty to do in the meantime.
The bag was coming along nicely when he felt his stomach rumbling. Huh. He ate a big meal yesterday, he shouldn't be hungry again until… oh. It was the next day already. And Dean still hasn't come out yet.
Sam shot his head up to stare at the ship.
Did something happen to his brother and he was too engrossed in weaving that he didn't notice? Sam threw the bag off to the side and quickly swam over to the ship, grabbing and tossing aside the seagrass covering the door and holding himself back from simply tearing the door off in his haste to see inside. He held his breath and used the edge of his claw to slide it back open. Pushing his face closer than before and seeing Dean still there. Safe and sound. But… asleep.
Sam rumbled a little in concern before whispering, "Dean? Are you awake?" knowing that wasn't the case, he didn't know what else to say first. "Dean? I have some food out here for you, if you're hungry. Or we can start hunting today." Waiting with growing anxiety for Dean to make some kind of sound. An answer one way or another. Nothing.
"Dean? I got something here that I might need your help on… I think you will like it. Want to come out and see?" Sam's voice was marginally louder. His claws fidgeted with a boulder at the base of the ship, scraping along in small scratches and taps on the rock. "Did you need help?" he wondered louder, finally tapping the side of the ship with the blunt claws. Very mindful of damaging the thin skin of it.
Dread started to pool heavily in his stomach. "Are you… sick?"
With still no reply, the only thing keeping Sam from panicking was the fact that Dean was still alive. He could hear him breathing. It wasn't an emergency just yet.
Sam's tail fins flicked about nervously as his hands continued to fidget. "Dean? Dean. Answer me."
His voice went a little more assertive, "Dean. Wake up and answer me." he paused and listened carefully. When there was still no answer, Sam debated what to do. If Dean was sick, the best place for him would be in that soft nest he's already resting on. Nothing Sam could provide would be as soft or secure. If he wasn't sick, then he was just being lazy at this point. A Mer as small as Dean shouldn't be sleeping this much. He'll need to be more alert, looking out for predators. To be unconscious for so long means he's less aware of his surroundings and potential dangers, of predators. Part of him was happy Dean felt so safe with Sam watching his back to be able to sleep this hard.
Sam had that luxury of sleeping in when he wanted because he has no real predators. Besides, a lifetime of looking out for only himself means he wakes easily, is nearly constantly aware and ready for whatever the currents bring his way.
If Dean is not sick he will need to train his body to not sleep so long. At least, not all at once. To break it up into sections. A part of Sam was wondering if he'd need to start carrying Dean around in the future just because he sleeps longer than any creature Sam's seen. They can't sit in this spot forever, there's not a lot of food or cover here. Sam's pretty sure he taught all there is to teach about this part of the ocean and they really should be moving on.
First though, he needed to find out why Dean hasn't woken up in a day and a half. Breaking the ship open would be a last resort. He rummaged around in the pile of debris that they'd collected that still laid next to the ship. Looking for any long pole and found something very very thin and long with a weird contraption at the end that was as small as Dean's hand. An invisible thread seemed to be strung from one end to the other and then trailing off a little ways after the tapered end. Sam tried to carefully wind the invisible thread around the pole until it stopped moving. Sam only knew it was there because the end of the string must have caught on his hand because when he pulled his hand away, the small end of it bent towards it. He didn't actually feel anything there. His skin is far too calloused to sense something that tiny, his eyes unable to see it whatsoever. But all evidence showed it was there as he twirled his fingers around and saw how it made the pole bend and twist. After trial and error he finally got it wrapped around the pole and then gingerly stuck it through the opening in the ship's belly.
The pole was just not long enough by itself so he angled his fingers to hold it between the finger pads of his longest fingers. Wiggling it about until the end bapped at Dean's body.
No reaction. Sam bapped again and again, growing in pressure until the pole snagged on the covering that Dean was wrapped in and it jerked out of Sam's grip and fell to the angled floor of the hull. Completely unable to reach it inside there now.
Sam growled low at the fumbling and peered inside again. Trying to be mindful of how Dean might wake up and take Sam's sudden growling presence the wrong way. Sam used his blunt claws to tap louder on the sides of the ship, on the other side of the wall separating Dean from the rest of the ocean. Growing in strength until it looked like Sam might break through.
Still nothing.
Sam couldn't repress the next growl if he tried. It wasn't from anger, but frustration and worry. He couldn't get Dean to wake up.
He braced himself and half said, half shouted, "Wake up, Dean!" outside of the ship. Keeping his face from bellowing it directly inside the ship. Dean wasn't getting a lot of fresh water in there and having Sam use it all up would ensure Dean got sick. The opposite of what Sam wanted. He waved a hand about the entrance to make sure his tiny brother had fresh water inside the hull. Perhaps he was drowsy from the lack of fresh water. Sam knows how sometimes it's hard getting the rich oxygen water needed to breathe the further down he goes. Noting that the shallows are far more oxygen rich than the deeps. Dean's old body was used to an abundance of oxygen in the airs above the water. Dean is still adapting. He HAS to be more patient with the poor little one.
However, Dean would have said something if he wasn't getting the oxygen water he needed. Or maybe it wasn't something he noticed right away, with everything that happened. Nothing he can change now. Maybe it would benefit Dean to have them move closer to the shallows, so that his gills have a better chance of adjusting first, and then go deeper later on. With as much as Dean gushed about coral reefs, Sam's sure that would interest Dean and hopefully make him want to stay here instead of trying to go back to the surface. Dean hasn't kept his desire to go home a secret. So Sam will just have to be extra vigilant when they go to the reefs. Not just for Dean's safety but his own. His big body is harder to move around the reefs since he has to remain floating the whole time. He can't even sit and rest near the corals because he would crush them and kill everything underneath. Sam had considered going back to their old nesting grounds. It had a decent sized natural sand barrier that his parents often used to sit and lay down where no corals grew.
The memory of that place did scare sam but he had to remind himself that he's not as ignorant as he once was. Dean too, can shed some light on what might have happened and how to keep them both safe. Sam really wanted to talk to Dean about going back there. If he'd even want to. The silence was driving him a little mad.
Sam swam in a circle around the ship, looking for another way in but finding none of course. There were a couple of clear flat rectangles that Dean called 'windows' but they were far too small to see in, and impossible to open. Sam pushed against the ocean floor and swam in tight circles again. Worry and impatience getting the better of him.
"You have to wake up, Dean. Wake up or I'm gonna take the top off and wake you up." he threatened, but didn't mean it. He was looking to get a reaction from his brother. None came.
Maybe the smell of food will entice him to wake up?
Sam swam off and quickly caught a few long legged crabs. He killed one once he got there and held the other in his loose fist to keep it alive and fresh longer. He set the prepared crab inside the door and puffed some water in so the legs and crushed body would float down to Dean. The scent should be a good motivator. Still nothing. Sam was about to crush the second but had a mischievous thought and simply released the living crab inside Dean's ship. The crab was all too eager to escape Sam's grasp so it willingly went inside. Crawled over Dean's blanket covered body and simply kept on going to the other end of the small space. Hiding among the boxes and then sitting still.
Sam wanted to punch something. The crab, like Dean, didn't move.
He did have another thought but dismissed it before it came about, because filling Dean's ship with live crabs wasn't an answer, even if it would be funny.
Sam resorted to lightly tossing in small rocks at his tiny brother, and got Dean to shift about briefly before whining pitifully before settling again.
Shouting wasn't getting anywhere, punching the rocky ground repeatedly just hurt his hands and barely made the ship vibrate.
Sam sighed and gave up for the night. It was so late it was almost early. Perhaps trying to disrupt Dean's sleep is making him sleep longer to make up for it. To never be truly rested. Sam said an apology for leaving the crab in there, but shut the door again. It was highly unlikely that the crab could or would hurt Dean, even unconscious.
Sam adjusted his bed so he could sleep much closer to the ship. With his head merely ten feet from the walls closest to Dean's nest. He slept hard that night after all the worry and anxiety. Dean was for all intents and purposes, dead to the world.
The quiet dark was growing slowly lighter, the sun very slightly lighting up the surface far above. In a few hours it will be easier for sunlight to make it all the way down to the bottom, unlike his usual lands.
The quiet was disrupted by a distant rumbling. It started off barely felt, barely audible, but grew steadily then faded. The giant Mer blearily woke up on hearing it, figuring it to be just another storm going on up top, he went back to sleep. Hours later the light was stronger now and with it, the noise came back, a little louder than before, but again fading off into the distance. Sam raised an eyebrow at that. Normally storms follow one direction and hardly ever turn around and go back the way they came. Almost never on the same day. He reluctantly propped his upper half up and looked around. The water was murkier today in the distance so he didn't see much.
The moment he tried to snuggle back into his sand nest he heard it again, louder and louder than before. The rumbling scaring off the local fish. It almost sounded like something was dragging along on the ocean floor. Something big.
Sam twisted around to sit upright and tried very hard to see into the direction of the ominous rumbling. Unable to make anything out as it faded back to peaceful quiet. Knowing that it wouldn't last for long before the sound and whatever is causing it comes back. Closer and closer.
His heart rate increased along with his worry. This was new and strange and until he figured it out, it wasn't to be trusted.
Sam nudged a few knuckles rapidly against Dean's ship. "Dean. You should really wake up now. Please. There might be something out here. Something bigger than me. And I don't know what it is. You - you gotta wake up and tell me if you know what this is." he pat the pads of his fingers along the sides of the ship again. Hoping the thumps would be enough to wake him up. Dean always got angry when Sam touched his things without asking first.
A rumbling came from a different direction entirely this time and drifted off to the distance again. Not as loud as the first and sounding differently. Sam waited and sure enough it was starting to come back louder still. Joined quickly by the first that was worryingly close now. Grating sounds of boulders and sand moving along at a steady unnatural speed.
Something was kicking up the silt and sand in the distance. He didn't see what, only the sand billowing up and around the flat object as the whole thing moved left to right across his field of vision. It might be one of the deep trench monsters, somehow summoned by Dean's presence. This kind of thing never happened before to him, and it might not be a mere coincidence that Dean shows up and other mysterious things start happening. But Dean would have said something if he was expecting this… whatever it is…to happen.
Sam had so many questions and no answers.
He only knew it was only a matter of time till it would find him and his brother here. Who knows what it would do to them. The sand it was kicking up was immense. A sight the 2 century old Merman never witnessed before in action, but maybe… perhaps he saw the after effects before? If this was what he thinks it is, then it scrapes along the ocean floor, dragging and catching everything in its path, pushing, pulling and burying everything. He remembers the great swaths of area that were damaged beyond repair. Sam looked down at Dean's small ship.
It would never survive that attack.
Sam heard the monster rumble off to the distance, and waited to hear the other moving off as well, and wasted no more time. Knowing it will be closer the next time it comes around.
Sam hastily grabbed the unfinished bag and quickly tied the new thin handle to it. Neither part was done yet but he'd need the handle to keep the sides from slipping down and off of the ship. Gritting his teeth as the rumbling grew ominously closer and louder. Grating the ground and causing vibrations that he could now feel and not just see.
The bag was now somewhat done, Sam bit his lip and carefully held it open with his clawed hand, and reached over to the ship with his other hand that had the blunted claws so he didn't damage the ship. He was trying and failing to grab it up in one hand. The ship was nearly the length of his torso. He curled his tail around the ship, tossing the pile of debris that was laying next to the ship inside the bag first so it would be at the bottom. Dean would be upset if he lost anything. Sam laid the bag on his lap and bit one side of it upwards to help keep it draped open. Quickly grabbing the two ends of the ship, he lifted it up straight out of the sand and tried very hard to keep it from tilting too far one way or another but it couldn't be helped. The long fin at the bottom kept catching on the lip of the fin hole, before finally finding it and the ship sunk down to rest at the bottom of the bag. Sam pressed the bag up around the sides of the ship to make sure it fit right. Reaching for a few more kelp strands to tie together and weave between a few natural holes in the bag. Tying the ship inside the bag as fast as his twitching fingers could move.
Oh no, wait. Sam saw that a good portion of the things they collected had simply fallen through the bottom and landed on his wide lap. Cursing, he gripped as much of the handle to the bag in his mouth as he could to keep it upright and hastily cupped the debris again and dumped it on top of the ship's deck. Hoping that the ship would keep the stuff from falling down to the bottom of the bag again.
Sam winced as time ran out. The sound of the rumbling coming so close he could see schools of fish and a few whales swim erratically away from the strange monsters that were dragging something evil all over the place. Destroying the ocean floor and killing countless small creatures in the process. It passed within just a thousand feet of them and Sam clutched the 40 foot ship to his chest, hissing at the strange thing as it passed right by them. A massive 300 foot wide, hazy square shape moved above the heavy bottom bar as it was pulled along. The top of the hazy square was so tall it disappeared into the murky water above. Short but deadly metal spikes were seen jutting out from all angles of that horizontal bar, digging up and rolling along the ocean floor.
Silt clogged the waters and was starting to make it hard to breathe and impossible to see clearly.
Sam couldn't make out what that curved hazy square was hovering up from the bar, and didn't want to stick around and find out. He may be 212 feet long but that did not make him invulnerable. He clutched the ship to his chest sideways and beat his tail a few times to get them up and moving.
The metal monster must have finally seen its prey and turned in the water, aiming right for their former area. Sam was frightened and had to fight to keep himself from crushing the ship as he swam hard and fast away from the metal creature. Moving the ship around to his side to keep the mast from hitting him in the face. It was larger than it looked now that he was carrying it, and very awkward to hold and swim at any kind of speed faster than leisure.
An ear splitting howl cried out from the beast from above. Sam shot a terrified look up and saw a massive set of floating things up there. Bigger than any he'd witnessed before. Confused at how something so large could stay up there and not sink. He could vaguely tell that they were the ones that were dragging that baffling thing between them. They were responsible for all the damage. The metal ships were aiming straight for them now, putting on more speed as thousands of creatures fled from the crashing terror as the spiked metal bar jumped and leaped after them. Churning up sand and silt and killing everything it plowed over.
They were hunting him.
The realization nearly stunned him into stopping. But he put on an extra burst of speed, even as it was catching up. More howls from above. Poles of light. Poles of light were now moving around in front of Sam, beside, behind. He'd never seen anything like it before. The sunlight in the water never ever moved like this before. To criss cross and move so fast. Sam dodged a few poles of light in his path and heard the ships alter course to follow him.
He saw several other sets of ships join in the hunt. Moving so fast that the hazy squares attaching them to the bottom spiked poles actually lifted up from the ocean floor to bolt after him faster.
Everywhere he looked, everywhere he twisted and turned he saw them. Panting hard he chose a direction and tried to escape. Hoping that Dean was still safe inside the ship. For the first time, he was hoping his brother was unaware of the danger. If Dean woke up now, he would panic, and there was a chance that Sam wouldn't be able to catch him safely.
The bag's tie straps snapped and the open top billowed in the currents, so he pinched the top shut as best he could with one hand while pushing the water with his other, struggling to streamline his body so he could go faster. Smoother.
Something snapped in his grip though, the mast. He saw and felt it bend against his sternum and it cracked in half, the top edge flipping down at first and then whipped about with the currents that were caused by his erratic swimming. Painfully slamming and hitting his neck and gills repeatedly. After a few moments it became too distracting and it would continue to get worse until he had to stop swimming just long enough to shove it inside the bag too. It crunched and crumbled even more.
Sam was nearly panicking. His hands shaking as he tried to find a good hold on the ship.
"Carry don't crush, carry don't crush." he repeated under his breath. Relying now on just his wings and tail to swim, both arms around the ship. His right arm curved around as much of the outside edge as he could reach with his left hand securing the front pulpit, hooking a few claws into the rail just to be secure. Hugging it across his belly and hip now. Turning it so that it was tilted diagonal to his body. The rear of the ship rested just above his hip and ahead of his ruined fin there. It was torn up anyway, Dean's ship can't make it any worse.
Sam was unable to swim with the ship aimed straight or sideways. Even with a broken mast it was still too tall to hug it to his chest if he tried swimming facing the ocean floor like normal. Breaking the mast off at the base might hurt Dean inside of it. If it tilts too far and squishes him between the mast and the inner wall.
Stop thinking about that! Just hold it securely and get out of here!
The shape of the ship was meant for the narrow part to point forward. Sam's body was the opposite with the narrow part being his tail in the back. The drag from the contradicting shapes kept on slowing him down. It was simply too awkward of a shape. He put on another burst of speed just as he heard some small inner voice call his name. As if Dean was begging Sam to save him.
He won't fail again. He will get Dean to safety.
But everything was wrong. Sam didn't know how to fix anything. What to do.
Up ahead was another set of floating things. He didn't see them. They weren't moving and so the thing they'd been dragging was still. The sand undisturbed. He swam right into the razorwire net. Dropping the ship in his surprise and trying to catch it again, struggling against the invisible net and his desire to keep his brother safe from this metal monster. The ship was crunching in his grip.
"No! No!" Sam cried, thrashing around his tail and wing fins to dislodge the invisible sheet from his head, pulling the ship away from the net only to have the bag get caught on it. Sam bit at the net, yanking hard at it. Cutting up his lips and gums. The floating things above suddenly released their end of the net, and in his thrashing, Sam ended up trapped inside of it. Weights on all the edges pushed the invisible net to the floor.
Sam's tail fins kept on getting stuck and snagged in the sharp squares of the net. Cutting away at his skin and scales. Blood was leaking from his forearm fins where he struggled and fought against the constraints. Inadvertently getting himself more and more stuck. He heard a loud wail come from directly above from both ships. Unnatural light flooded down at him. More than ever before.
Stunning him into sitting still for a moment as he shot his terrified eyes above.
He was aware that the other ships were closing in as well. Their net pulled upwards to keep it from dragging and making them move faster than the first. Closing in on their prey.
Was this it? Is this how he dies? Is this how his parents died?
His blood is in the water, sharks are soon to follow. Dean can't fend for himself. Dean's gonna die the same way as he did before.
Sam choked out a horrified, "no… please no."
Not Dean. Dean's not gonna die here. Not now. Not ever. Sam made a promise.
Sam's right arm was pinned to his side, crunching the ship even more against his ruined hip fin, bag tearing terribly between the jagged edges of the ship as everything fell apart.
"No! No! Stop!" He cried upwards at the monsters and then at himself and his stupid body as the ship kept on breaking under his shaking fingers. He saw that the ship wasn't a ship anymore. Too broken up, too dangerous. No longer a safe home for his brother. It was going to hurt Dean more than help.
He struggled and pushed against the net with his head, giving himself a few hands' length of room to work. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he wept as he gently pulled at the top of the ship, giving it a bit more strength and seeing it nearly pop off of the base. The bottom of the ship crunching in further without the top keeping its wide shape. He looked inside and saw the square nest bed inside… but no Dean.
Sam felt the net constrict around him, slicing up his arm fins. His wing fins ached at the bad angles. More of those lines were being pulled around himself. Beyond his control. His whole body trembled. His only free hand poked gently at the nest, the sheet coming up and away easily. Nothing. He tore out box after box from inside the hull, crushed the crab in anger when it tried to swim away. Dean wasn't anywhere to be found inside the ship.
"Dean!" Sam screamed at the crumbling ship in his hands. No reply. "Dean, please!" Sam struggled fruitlessly to turn his head, to look behind him. Maybe he made it out? Maybe he was following Sam? No. He shouldn't come after Sam's rescue this time. That would be fatal.
"Dean! Get away from me! Get far away from them! Please! Save yourself!" Sam cried all around him, thrashing more and more, getting cut up badly and his fins threatened to be torn off. The net cut deeper and deeper into his body the more he moved. "Go, Dean! Please Go!"
Things were now floating down slowly from above. Cylinders that drifted lower and lower. One exploded to his side. He was deafened immediately.
The next two nearly took his sight. A flash of light to his sensitive eyes. The percussion of water punching him in the face. The net is constricting more and more around himself. He grabbed a sharp edge of the ship. Dean wasn't in it anymore. It was just debris now. It might help him save himself. Once he's free he can find Dean and they can get out of here. Go to the safe deep.
Sam used the mangled ship's edge as a knife, sawing away at the net. Trying to grip it in one hand and saw with the other. His bound hand is not able to do much. Using his fangs, he gripped it and pushed against the opposite side with his tail to make it taught, then sawed at it with a vengeance. He was only able to break a few of the lines before that and now was able to get a decent hole in the net until three more of those cylinders exploded nearly on top of him. He cried out in pain. Blood was everywhere.
The second pair of ships finally arrived and dropped their net overtop of him too. He has no chance of escaping now.
Blood seeped into the water, clouding everything. Making it hard to see. Hard to breathe. Hard to concentrate. Hearing is nearly totally gone. All that he could make out were more of those bright exploding cylinders. But even that was more percussion than sound.
More blood. More cries of terror. Tears streaming down his face that he can't even reach to wipe away. Trembling in pain. Heart hurting for his missing brother. Sam cried and howled at the loss. Sam's head bowed forward, his wing fins catching at the net behind him, keeping him from curling up. Blood and silt and sand clouding what little senses he had left.
Flashbacks of his father's blood choking the land. His dead parents being taken far away. Never to be seen again. Pulled away by those awful ships.
Sam lost the ability to think rationally, pushing the ship aside as best he could. Everything spilled from inside the ship onto the ocean floor. Only the ship's shell remained inside with him because the pieces were too big to fit through the holes in the net. The rest of Dean's belongings flitting through the openings in the metal net easily. A few items floated up and away towards the monsters above. Unhindered by the net.
This net must have been made for him. Or big things like him. Sam was scared and furious. This metal trap probably killed countless whales, sharks, and dolphins. Or perhaps they went after the trench monsters. Sam had no chance at breaking this net if it was designed for those beasts.
Sam struggled to lift his chin in defiance, pulling his lips back to bear his impressive fangs. He will not die like those beasts. He gripped the jagged edged piece of Dean's ship until his hand bled and kept on slashing and cutting away at the net. Attacking the net with just his fangs and one free hand when his makeshift knife fell apart in his grip.
In his thrashing, he wrenched his left wing out of socket and he wailed in pain. A heat bloomed all up his spine, numbing and all consuming all at once. Spikes of pain shooting everywhere, every time either wing tried to fold up again. His right arm was already pinned to his side so he couldn't even reach for the injury to put it back into socket. Ages ago, he threw his shoulder out and it took several painful days to get it back into place. Running it into every cliff he saw to push it back. He's not sure how to even fix his wing fin… if it can be fixed.
Sam tried to throw himself to the floor to jolt it back in but he didn't get anywhere. The nets and ropes that were twisting around him kept him upright and in agony. Constricting him more every moment.
More and more skin was cut up and some even cut off from the near invisible metal ropes of the net.
Sam roared at the ships. How many have they killed like this? It was humiliating and cruel. He had no chance to fight back against something that he didn't understand. How many had to die for those monsters to get this efficient at it. To incapacitate like this so quickly after capture? Dean said they hunted fish and whales until they went extinct… Were they responsible for the disappearances of the Mers as well?
How many Mers had they killed?
"Murderers!" he roared. He could barely even hear himself.
They could hear, but refused to listen. How many had to die before their appetite is sated?
Sam was getting lightheaded. Dizzy.
Too much blood… drifting.
Floating.
It was barely a fair fight at all. It was as if they were just gathering him up for food as easily as he grabbed the crabs for breakfast.
Is this what it feels like to die?
Two more flash bang cylinders fell down to him. He couldn't really see or hear them, but he felt them batter his bruised, broken, and bleeding body.
His mind grew weary and then silent.