Chapter Five:

The Pull

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The first week was relatively easy traveling for Sam. He learned the hard way to not just eat fish he didn't know. His stomach expelling everything he'd managed to scrape together for the last day. He luckily found some kelp and chewed on it while he waited for the nausea to fade. It had been a couple days after that for him to taste test another fish, this one looked very similar to ones he'd had before and found it to be alright to eat. Taking the tiniest of bites from it and waiting to see if it would make him sick or not. When all seemed well he finished it and waited some more before chasing after the school and eating his fill.

Two days later and he wished he'd saved some of those fish in his kelp bag. He was hungry and there was nothing good to eat around here. Just more of those poisonous fish and tiny pockets of krill too small to make any meaningful difference. Taking him far too long to chase them down and pinch between his fingers to catch.

He settled for tiny scrapes of brown kelp that floated past him, nearly rotten in the water, trying to figure out where it had come from to get more meaningful meals out of it. Something. Anything.

He drifted back to the ocean floor when he was too tired to keep swimming and stared at his bag for a long time. Grimacing as he took out his knives and sharpening stones and eyed the bag one more time before unraveling part of it. Tears welling in his eyes as he ate a few bites of the tough strands. Knowing that if he doesn't find food soon, he will have to eat the rest of his bag and leave some of his things behind.

He wiped his face and stared hard at the knives and stones. Trying to figure out how he can keep them without the bag had him tying a strand around the knife handles forming a bundle. The stones were notched in the middles as carefully as he could without breaking them in half, and those too were tied together with one last strand attaching the knives and stones to his belt. They would bounce at his sides and it would be annoying and a drag on his streamline swimming but he wasn't ready yet to give them up. His bag was reduced to scraps that he bundled together as a pillow, guarding it from the ocean current. He fell asleep curled up around himself. The next day came with fewer stomach cramps and he decided he'd need the strength if he was to keep searching for food. Eating the rest of the kelp strands while sniffling sadly into his hands.

Five weeks since leaving his nest and he was starving. He made the decision to stop at a rocky outcrop to store his things while he goes out hunting for food yet again. He'd seen a school of some fish when he'd first woken up, but the knives and stones clattered at his sides and alerted the fish to his presence. Making the school dash away faster than he could follow. They were hindering him more than helping.

He placed a circle of rocks around the buried knives and pushed one tall rock into the center to mark the location better. Trying to memorize where it was among the many rocks and coral.

He finally turned away and gripped his pole hook tighter in his hands and set out. Determined to get something to eat, even if it tasted terrible and made his stomach turn, he needed food. He followed a long rippled trail in the sand, curious as to what it was and nearly tumbled fin over head when the trail stopped dead. He swam around in a circle and dipped closer to inspect and noticed that a thin stream of water was being sucked into and out of a hole in the ground. So tiny, but, the debris in the water didn't lie. Something was down under the sand. But, he didn't know what it was. If it was dangerous, eatable, angry...

He took his pole hook and angled the pointed end towards the tiny hole and backed up the rest of his body so that it was out of the way of the swift swing. His aim was true and his hook lodged firmly into the body of something dark gray under the sand. A swirling mass of sand and blood exploded up and around him and he nearly lost his grip of his pole hook but managed to firm his hold. The creature lurched away from the sharp hooks end and ended up moving his direction as a result. He yelped but a quick swish of his tail had him out of the way again, pulling hard and fast with his hook, it managed to pierce all the way through the thin flat body and he drove the thing back towards the ground, using his wings to keep himself steady and his tail to push at the water around himself to keep pressure on the creature. It twitched under him but eventually the blood loss made its struggles slow to a stop.

Sam dared not move just yet. Remembering the lessons his dad taught him. Never assume an animal is dead until you see the water stop moving from around them. So he stilled himself as much as possible and kept his eyes firmly on its mouth and gills. A few muscles twitched but that was it. The whole creature was nearly as wide around as he was tall. A weird looking fish with eyes on one side of it's flat body.

He hoped that it wasn't poisonous but at this point, he was desperate. He tentatively let go of the pole and watched it sink to the side, making the large round fish tilt upwards a little from the awkward weight. Now that his hands were free, he wasted no time in clawing at the back of its head, severing the spine from the head to make sure it wasn't going to spring back to life.

Sam sniffed at the fish and found it incredibly delicious smelling. He clawed out a chunk from the side, deeming it the safest spot to grab meat from and took a bite that was probably bigger than he should have but moaned at the flavors. Sure the thing was ugly and strange but hunger drove him to eat nearly half of it just sitting there. Remembering himself and his surroundings, he quickly looked up and around for sharks or other predators drawn in from the blood seeping into the water around him. He debated with himself for a few moments. If he should drag it behind himself in a hand by its tail, or keep the hook in it's side and carry it behind him that way. Opting for his hand to free up his best weapon, it flopped behind him as he quickly swam back towards the rocks that held his weapons. Sighing in relief that all were still accounted for. He dug a pit and buried the fish remains inside since he no longer had any real means of storing the meat now that his bag was gone.

The next day he ate as much as he could again and buried the scraps for dinner. Scouting out the area and finding a path that led to more promising waters. His rocky outcrop seemed to be the very edge of a long field of rocks that hid a lush field of kelp just a little swim away.

Sam reluctantly turned back from the flowing green fields and vowed to himself to return straight away the next day. Having not eaten much in the last week and a half left him dizzy and weak. The food was helping, but food and a full nights sleep would do wonders. He also didn't want to rush into a new place without resting up first. So he stayed put until the whole fish was gone and he no longer felt his stomach cramping up. He gathered his things and a few of the fish's longer sharp bones and headed eagerly towards the kelp fields.

Trying to remember to be wary of new places where any number of dangers could be waiting for some unsuspecting Merchild. NO. He was not a child. He told himself that he wasn't allowed to be reckless anymore.

Looking back at his life with his family, how much he'd taken for granted. The safety that he had to be silly, to play, to explore. Now, his exploring was more focused on finding food and supplies. He settled himself next to the first outcropping of kelp he came to and looked around for a long while before deeming it relatively safe here. Sam started stripping the kelp of it's leaves and sorting the strands to start making a new bag. He added another pouch to the outer side of it. Patting himself on the back for having a separate space for his weapons and his food. He put another couple of loops on the other side to hold onto another pole if he ran across one, or, wanted to free up his hands of his pole hook as he swims. He harvested a bundle of lush green kelp leaves and packed them into the bags new pocket... just in case. He promised himself to always keep it stocked with emergency food. Never wanting to be that hungry again.

He saw a long dark gray shape in the distance and avoided it, swimming down to the ocean floor again and waiting for it to pass. Not knowing for sure if it was just a whale, dolphin, or deadly shark. He was no fool, he knew he wasn't nearly strong enough to take on anything bigger than a juvenile manta ray right now. He did however try out the mollusks and small squid hiding in the rocks and found a new favorite food in the clams buried upright in the sand. Learning to follow the bubbles to the source. Fascinated by the pearls within a few of the hard shells, he collected them in his bag when he found them, but wasn't going out of his way to save them. They just looked neat.

The clam and oyster shells were almost too easy to pry open with his knives and when one chipped on him in one particularly large shell, he beat it the rest of the way open among some rocks. Growling to it and himself for misusing his precious knife like that.

For weeks he learned all there was to learn about this area and how to lure out the fish from the narrow cracks. Tying a bit of clam to the end of a kelp strand and dangling it at the mouth of the hole and trying to be fast enough to snag it with one of his clawed fingers. Cursing himself out every time for not being fast enough when he had an idea while gazing at his pole hook. All he had to do was to make a much smaller pole hook and pin the clam meat on the bottom! Then, he wouldn't have to try and catch it in his hands! It will skewer itself on the tiny hook!

Sam spent a few days trying out different style hooks made out of fish bones before perfecting the shape. Accidentally snapping a few bone hooks on fish that were too big for it. He would have to figure out what he was hunting, and use the appropriate sized and shaped hook for the job.

He then reluctantly learned that it wasn't just the hook's shape and size that mattered, it was how strong his kelp threads were. Useless to make a beautiful strong hook if it just was dragged away by a strong willed fish when his weak kelp line snaps in the middle.

A few fish wisely turned right around when they saw a small Mer banging his head on the rocks ahead.

Sam was nothing if not persistent, and he ended up spending many months in the fertile kelp fields perfecting his fish catching methods. Luckily, the local fish were too stupid to figure out that this new creature sharing their space wasn't just here for the hell of it. He was training himself. Every time he saw a new bottom dwelling animal, he figured out what it liked to eat, and then used that knowledge against it to catch it. Eating it wasn't even important to him anymore. He found himself invigorated in the challenges ahead of him. Almost forgetting why he's out here all alone to begin with.

He'd remember suddenly, and painfully, when he would finally catch a sly eel or something tricky, and turn around to show off his accomplishment to his waiting brother. Pausing in mid turn to remember that he had no one to show. No one to share in the joy of his accomplishment. No one to feed his new catch to.

Frowning to himself, he sat hunched over his prize and ate it without any of the mirth he'd felt just seconds ago. Staring at the wide arrangement of tools and hooks at his new nest site. He'd even tied up a few larger fish by their tails to save for a later meal. Keeping them alive but strung up to make sure the meat doesn't spoil before he can get to it. He made sure that when he tied them up to not hurt them at all. If they cut their scales or fins on the kelp rope, the blood seeping out would just attract predator fish who would make short work of the trapped animals. But, there were no real large predators here that were big enough for him to be concerned with, so he let himself get lazy. A dangerous mistake that could have meant his end.

Sam chastised himself and looked far above him at the tops of the tall kelp that reached towards the surface light above. A few jellyfish floated on by between the kelp and he sighed at the beautiful sight.

Several more months pass and he saw his first shark. It was half his length but it jarred him from his sleepy haze. He felt his heart rate pick up and his breaths quicken at the sight. It was several dozen tail lengths above him and paid him no mind. Merely passing through.

He felt his face redden at the realization that he spent far too long here. Ignoring his mission. He was supposed to be out there, killing the things that killed his brother. Hunting the floating things that attacked and killed his parents. The things that threaten all Merpeople.

Sam scowled at the sleek predator and haphazardly reached for his pole hook and charged up at the shark, taking it by surprise as his hook lodged into its side. The pole was yanked towards himself to get the hook as deep as possible before Sam flipped himself up and over it, ending up closer to its tail as the thrashing shark kept whipping around. Sam let go of the pole once he got his prey into a good angle and dove his claws into its gills. Doing the same moves he recalled Dean doing in his own fight those many months ago, and ending the shark's life quickly. Sam kept growling the whole while, cursing it out for killing his brother and loosing himself to the frenzy just like a shark would. Coming back to reality when his arms were pulled from the shark's limp body. Covered in its thick blood.

Sam pulled away from the body and watched it float downwards in the water, moving with the soft currents. Memories he'd pushed back for months coming at him in rapid succession. Dean's plea for him to escape, the sharks that fed on the two bodies as they drifted lifelessly down to the abyss. His parent's bodies being dragged away and followed by thousands of predators in the blood red waters.

Sam turned and fled for his makeshift nest. Crying the whole way for Dean. For his brother to come back to him. To say it was all some elaborate joke. A training lesson their dad set up to teach them how to survive on their own. For Dean to come out and say he was proud of his brother for making it this far, and that it was safe to come home. That his mother and father were waiting for him with open arms.

But Dean didn't come. Didn't answer his loud calls. Never again would comfort his little brother. Dean had died.

And Sam was still alone.

Sleep came eventually to him, but in the morning, he decided he no longer wanted to stay here. Stuck to catching these specific fish for the rest of his life? No. He had a job to do and he'd been avoiding it. Part of his mind speaking up and saying that he wasn't avoiding it, he just didn't have the skills to move on until now. Since moving to this area, he'd doubled in length and weight. Filling meals and little stress meant he could grow easier than before. His muscles filling out where there once had been baby fat.

He wiped a tear from his eyes when he realized he'd done it, he had grown bigger than his big brother. He was stronger and tougher than Dean was.

And if Dean could take on that huge shark, Sam would have no problem doing it too. It helped ease his mind. Make him less scared of the future out there. He made up a new improved kelp bag since his old two pocketed one had disintegrated awhile ago, and packed up all of his belongings in it, despite the fact that the knives that filled his hands before, were only as long as his fingers now. They were still very precious to him. Dean made a couple of them and he would not carelessly abandon them just because he didn't have to rely on them anymore. His first two claws were now easily longer than some of the knife blades. His shark tooth necklace was reformed again and he wore it with pride. It was time to move on from this place and hunt down his prey.

He headed out, packed bags strapped along his back over his shoulders, between his wing fins. He gripped the small pole hook in his hands. It was smaller to him now, but would get the job done.

He was done waiting, now he was hunting.

Sam had been on his own for nine months when he first felt it. This strange pull on his heart. He figured it was something stupid his mind was creating out of the boredom of swimming, and ignored the feeling. He had grown even more, filling out the lean fin and tail muscles with the new foods and challenges. Sam was teaching himself how to survive in each new environment. Killing every shark that he saw on the way. Only leaving the ones he was sure he wouldn't win in a fight. Memorizing the area to come back her later to take it, and others like it, out when he's older and larger. As time went on, that list grew smaller and smaller. There wasn't much that could harm him now. He bided his time before he'd head towards where he thought the Merpeople lived. His parents just said it was so deep, there was no real light down there except for the random patches of glowing plants and a few of the animals. Merpeople could still see down there, but, apparently not as clearly as he could now. Relying more on their chirps and clicks to find out where objects were. Sam knew he wasn't there yet because he could still make out his surroundings during the day. He'd just have to keep traveling, growing, learning and getting stronger. Until then, it was quiet and lonely.

Sometimes he'd talk to himself just to hear another voice in the waters, but after awhile, he stopped doing that since he had nothing new to add to the one sided conversations. Besides, his voice scared away the good fish.

Sam had searched for so long for those massive floating things but never saw one. Floating or sunk. He waited and waited and heard no sign of another Merperson either. Even when the oceans were growing darker and darker as he went.

He felt that pull waver the next day before becoming slightly stronger again. Sam laid in his temporary bed and his brow scrunched together. Feeling a tingle of fear attached to it but nothing around him explained the feeling at all. He was unprotected sure, but, that didn't really bother him anymore. The pull on his chest, the feeling of dread... It was probably something he ate. He turned over and fell asleep again.

After only a week that nagging pull stopped abruptly. Sam was right in the middle of hunting down a decent sized shark when the absence of it hit him like a tail slap and knocked him back a few fins.

The shark got away and he scowled after it. Turning to face where the pull had been located. It had been so annoying at first, but it also helped him out in telling directions during the hunts for the last week. Knowing which way he's facing by using the pull as a guiding beacon of sorts.

He forgot about it a few days later.

There was a bright light that blinded him. Deafening sounds coming from all directions and he cried a shrill piercing sound. Everything was cold and bright and hurt. Why does it all hurt? Then something wrapped around him and he felt gravity pull on him towards something large and pale colored topped with dark brown. Something was drying out his skin and he hated it. It scratched at his skin and made everything feel rubbed raw. He missed the feel of water, he felt like he was dying without it.

He saw images clear slightly but it was still so cold here and the lights hurt his new eyes. His cries continued, trying desperately to tell someone, anyone that he's in such intense pain. But all he heard between his cries was soft urgent hushing noises in tones and patterns he didn't recognize.

He was brought closer to a large figure that held him tight. Felt a few drops of something land on his forehead. Aiming his large head upwards towards the moisture. Pausing his cries in complete surprise at the scent and taste of those salty droplets when they fell on his face and into his mouth on accident. The being holding him cried almost as hard as he had and he felt such sorrow coming from them too. His own cries never really stopping, only lessening to aching whimpers.

He became aware of other beings hovering around and above him, shapes and colors that assaulted his eyes when they forced them open. He wailed and screamed, never-ending pain coming from within and out. Fingers prodded his stomach and those sounds the beings were making didn't help ease his mind at all. More fingers, more huge beings and finally his eyes cleared enough to see concerned faces all around him. Talking in sounds he didn't hope to understand. To others, to him, to the one holding him in her strong arms.

Her long brown hair hung from her head instead of floating around weightless like it should. Nothing felt right. He felt so heavy here. His limbs refused to move how he wanted them even when they weren't bound to his chest. His cried became more fearful at the thought of being tied down.

He tasted something warm and different in his mouth when something round was pushed into it. It had a strange thick quality to it but he couldn't deny that his body craved the white liquid somehow. Instinct drove him to suckle at the round thing in his face and he felt himself calming down for the first time after waking up in this terrifying nightmare.

He felt fingers card over his head and the very few strands of hair there. Blinking the tears out of his eyes to try and focus on where he was, the harsh brightness was blessedly gone now. A face was above him and he tried to make it out in the dark. It was unfamiliar to him but something told him that this was his mother. But that couldn't be. His mother had blond hair and was far far larger than this being. His mother certainly never had these round things on her chest that she forced into his mouth. Her ears weren't rounded at the top like this being, and from what he could see, she didn't have any means of breathing either. He felt fear of and for her.

He tried to figure out what was going on, but it was all simply too much trauma for his new mind, and he fell into a fitful sleep. The pain in his stomach lessening but never really going away.

The next day was more the same. His skin hurt from the lack of water and his chest ached with the dryness. But nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the pain coming from his stomach. He cried for a long time, hoping that these beings would understand that he's trying to tell them that there's something terribly wrong with him. But all he gets is more of the white chest liquid and finger prods. Questioning sounds from his new mother to other creatures that look similar to her but have hair on their faces.

They put some foul tasting liquid in his mouth and he spit it up before they did it again, holding his mouth open and nearly making him choke on it before he felt it slip down his throat. Gagging the whole while as his mother cooed at him with tears in her own eyes too. He swallowed just to get them to stop and they finally moved back away from him. Whatever it was made him drowsy and lessened his stomach pains for a short while. Drifting in and out of sleep but aware enough to know that those others were still there, hovering nearby, talking to each other with those low murmuring growls.

He was shocked when he finally woke up enough to see how these things were moving around. They had two long things below their waists and each one bent in the middle. He was so mesmerized by it that he forgot about his stomach pains as he stared in awe.

New terror hit him all at once as the blurred images came into better clarity. Whatever it was that they gave him to calm him down was wearing off as panic hit him again. He was surrounded by strange things, in a cave with too many unnaturally straight angles and creatures with two tails and covered in materials he'd never seen before and spoke in low growls instead of clicks and... and... all he wanted was to just curl up in his nest and be safe again! To be surrounded by sea water and just go home!

This isn't his mother, this isn't his home, he can't even move at all here!

His cries became more terrified and shrill and lasted for several days as his body gave up and started to shut down. His young mind was unable to cope with any of this and he almost welcomed the darkness that clouded his vision and pulled him into sleep for the last time.

The last thing to go was his hearing, his mother's weeping voice repeating his name and other sounds he figured out the meaning for days ago, from just hearing them so many times from her and the others.

"Dean, I'm so sorry, baby, I know it hurts. Please stay with me... stay awake... Dean... Dean...DEAN!... stay!... stay..." and then there was blissful nothingness.