Deep Waters
Title: Deep Waters
Author: prism_writer
Beta: thanks to myspn_addiction for being beta for me!
Characters: Sam, Dean,
Genre/paring: Gen
Rating: PG
Word-count: 2,042
Summery: Sam strays from the plan and gets himself into trouble. Deep trouble.
Disclaimer: As much as I wish upon that star… They are still not mine…
Sam wiggled hard in the none too soft chair, trying to free his wrists and ankles from the bonds restraining him, but they were tight and the chair was bolted firmly to the solid wooden planks of the boat, so he couldn't even scoot it close to a anything sharp. “Dean!” Sam shouted again, his voice hoarse from yelling for the better part of thirty minutes.
Where was he? He should have been here by now. They were supposed to be doing this together in the first place but when Dean had been late to the rendezvous, Sam had started poking around in the fishing boat by himself. And that's when he'd gotten into trouble. The last thing he remembers before waking up tied to a chair, was being hit none too gently on the head with something hard and unyielding.
The cold rushing water was now at chest height and Sam started to panic, trying vainly to suppress the stifling feelings. Dean would find him. It wasn’t like there were dozens of sinking boats in the ocean to choose from. It was tilting slowly on its stern, and Sam knew he didn't have much time left.
Now the water was to his chin. His legs had long since gone numb and he was beginning to loose feeling in his arms, from the water or the tight ropes he didn't know. Probably both.
“Deeeaaann!” he screamed once more before the water rose to his ears, forcing him to tilt his head skyward to keep his mouth and nose out of the water. His chest felt like it was being crushed by the tons of water pouring into the room but it also felt like it was about to explode from the panic welling inside him.
“Damn it, Dean, help me!” Then the water closed over his nose and mouth, cutting off his air supply and any chance for him to call for help again. The freezing water seemed to wrap icy fingers around Sam’s chest, slowly forcing the air from his already burning lungs.
He resisted frantically, still struggling against the ropes that bound him to the chair. Then the water around him grew a tad brighter and Sam could see a dark figure plunge down into the hold in a flurry of bubbles and stroke quickly through the water toward him.
Dean ignored the angry shouts that lingered behind him as he tore out of the fishing docks, the stolen outboard racing full speed atop the water. Off in the far distance he could see only one fishing boat out in the middle of the ocean listing dangerously and he aimed his craft in that direction.
He’d easily bet that Sam was on that fishing trawler. It would be just like his brother to stray from the plan and start out on their hunt by himself and then get into trouble. Big trouble. And what better way for crooks to dispose of spies and trespassers then to trap them on a sinking boat.
Just as the thought came to his mind, a motor boat came roaring around from the far side of the trawler to speed off to the right and Dean’s heart stopped with the chilling realization that his brother was on the boat. The four men in the boat wore black hoods and dark sun glasses; all of them looking mean as hell.
Dean knew he had little time to get there before it sank with his little brother aboard. As his little outboard came along side the large trawler, Dean stalled the engine and jumped, grabbing onto one of the many ropes hanging from the side and pulled him self up hand over hand.
He landed with a thump on the deck of the trawler and grabbed onto the rigging to keep him self from sliding across the slippery, tilting deck.
“Sam?” he shouted as he ran tilted toward the cabin. The door stood ajar and Dean whipped in, holding onto the doorframe to keep him self from going all the way into the room. It stood empty and Dean let out a hiss between his clenched teeth.
The hold was his next best bet and Dean half slid half ran down the deck to the hatch, yanking it open hard. It was almost completely filled with dark rolling water and Dean gasped. “Please don’t be down there, Sam,” he growled before plunging feet first into the water, the shock of how cold it was almost robbing him of his air.
Toward the back of the room, Dean could see his brother’s tall form near the floor and he prayed that Sam was alright for the time being.
'Hurry!' Sam’s mind screamed as he stared desperately at the figure, willing them to move faster. As the person grew nearer, Sam’s half squinted eyes could roughly make out who it was and he let out a relived, muffled exclamation, instantly regretting it when his lungs screamed in protest for the air he had unwittingly released.
Dean was suddenly beside him, pulling out his long Bowie hunting knife from his belt and sawing at the ropes holding Sam’s wrists behind his back and tight to the chair.
Even sawing as fast as he could in the water, Dean knew it wasn’t fast enough; his brother’s body was arching and bucking with the desperate need to draw in air and Dean’s heart began to pound furiously against his ribs, his own lungs begging for relief.
Sam knew he had to keep still so his brother’s work would be easier but his lungs screamed for oxygen, feeling ready to explode out of his chest and he couldn't control the instinctive thrashing to free himself.
Finally the ropes around his brother’s wrists snapped and swirled slowly to the floor. Pulling himself around to cut Sam’s ankle ropes, Dean found those much easier and sliced through them within a few seconds.
When he looked up at his brother his heart almost stopped; Sam’s head and arms were floating limply in the water, his long bangs brushing the sides of his face as they moved with the current. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, tiny little bubbles leaking out from between his parted lips.
With heart pounding and lungs about to collapse, Dean grabbed his brother under his arms and launched them both up toward the hatch, pushing his feet against the stationary chair. The water had completely filled the hold by now, leaving no air pockets. Relief would only come after they exited the now almost fully sunk fishing boat.
It was tilting so heavily to the side now that Dean felt a flash of fear that it would flip over on its way down, trapping the brothers inside her. He swam faster, his fingers straining ahead of him to reach the hatch.
The short swim seemed like an eternity as Dean dragged his limp brother through the water, knowing they only had moments left before Dean’s oxygen supply expired and left them both floating dead in the water.
Everything was wavering before Dean’s eyes just as he reached the hold door which had fallen shut and he tried to push it up. At first it didn’t move and Dean’s heart slammed against his chest. He tried again and the door slowly creaked open with a loud hollow groan, trapped air bubbles rising from the hinges.
Dean braced his feet against the sides of the hatch and shot both of them through the water toward the surface which seemed miles away now. With each stroke upward, he could feel his strength ebbing but desperation forced his legs to keep kicking and his arms to keep dragging the water behind them.
Dean’s left arm began to lose feeling as Sam’s weight dragged on it and just when he was sure he couldn’t go any farther, his head broke the surface.
Gasping frantically, mouth wide open, Dean yanked in lungful after lungful of fresh air, choking on the waves, his chest aching from lack of oxygen and his head pounding.
Sam was still a limp weight on Dean’s arm and he pulled up, bringing his brother’s face above the surface and almost dunking himself in the process. His head flopped limply to rest against Dean’s shoulder, his face submerged under the icy water again and Dean’s heart dropped for the third time. “Sam. Sammy! Please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this, Sammy!”
While trying to keep them both afloat, Dean lifted his brother’s head with one hand and patted his pale cheeks, trying to wake his brother up.
He wasn’t rewarded at all. Not even by a shiver or flicker of his brother’s dark eyelashes which stood out drastically against his pale, clammy skin.
Dean raised his head quickly; water and shameless tears dripping from his chin, and scanned the waters.
There was nothing around for miles and Dean tried to swivel in the water to see behind him, looking for the little outboard he's stolen but it was no where to be seen. He wasn't surprised. The high waves could have sunk it within minutes.
His legs were suddenly so tired and both brothers sank under abruptly. As the water closed over his head, he heard the slap of something against the water and instinctively threw his free hand up to cover his head. Something rough and thick grazed his wrist and he realized it was a rope.
Forcing his legs to give him a little more leverage, Dean managed to kick himself and Sam above the surface again, his fingers groping for the rope. He found it and latched on, using all his remaining strength to keep a solid hold on the slippery thing.
Dean's ears heard a voice in the distance, but his mind was too foggy to focus enough to distinguish words.
Then suddenly, Dean felt himself moving through the water, his head sinking beneath the surface every now and again. He could feel his grip on Sam weakening further, but just when he was sure he'd lose his hold completely, his head bumped the side of a motor boat and several pairs of hands were on him, hauling him out of the water.
Sam began to slide out of his hands and Dean released the rope to clutching at his brother with both hands, dropping them both back into the waves. There were voices above his head but the rushing in his ears drowned them out.
Dean lips moved in a weak attempt to speak but he was too exhausted even to manage a grunt. Calling on the last reserves of his strength, Dean shoved his exanimate brother up toward the occupants of the boat, releasing his grip when he felt Sam being hauled out of the water.
Through heavy eyelids, Dean could see the side of a boat looming above and two pairs of hands straining toward him, but his own arms felt like chunks of lead dragging him down.
"Take care of Sammy," he murmured, or thought he did as his eyes slipped closed and his head sank beneath the waves for the last time.
Dean slammed awake, gasping in air frantically, sweat and water drenching him from head to toe. His ribs and back felt like they were on fire, as did his water-logged lungs but his brain pushed the pain away, one all consuming thought taking over. Sam. Where was Sammy?
He painfully turned his head to anxiously scan the room, trying to spot his brother. His mind didn't stop to wonder where he was or why he was there, he just had to find Sam.
Then his eyes fell on the bed adjacent to his and his whole body suddenly felt completely drained when he saw Sam lying on his back, eyes closed, chest rising and falling evenly with each breath he took.
Getting to his feet quickly, he tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his head and staggered over to his brother's side, dropping to his knees on the cool floor and resting a shaking hand on Sam's chest, needing the steady th-thump of his brother's heart beat beneath his fingers as reassurance that his Sammy was safe
Author: prism_writer
Beta: thanks to myspn_addiction for being beta for me!
Characters: Sam, Dean,
Genre/paring: Gen
Rating: PG
Word-count: 2,042
Summery: Sam strays from the plan and gets himself into trouble. Deep trouble.
Disclaimer: As much as I wish upon that star… They are still not mine…
Sam wiggled hard in the none too soft chair, trying to free his wrists and ankles from the bonds restraining him, but they were tight and the chair was bolted firmly to the solid wooden planks of the boat, so he couldn't even scoot it close to a anything sharp. “Dean!” Sam shouted again, his voice hoarse from yelling for the better part of thirty minutes.
Where was he? He should have been here by now. They were supposed to be doing this together in the first place but when Dean had been late to the rendezvous, Sam had started poking around in the fishing boat by himself. And that's when he'd gotten into trouble. The last thing he remembers before waking up tied to a chair, was being hit none too gently on the head with something hard and unyielding.
The cold rushing water was now at chest height and Sam started to panic, trying vainly to suppress the stifling feelings. Dean would find him. It wasn’t like there were dozens of sinking boats in the ocean to choose from. It was tilting slowly on its stern, and Sam knew he didn't have much time left.
Now the water was to his chin. His legs had long since gone numb and he was beginning to loose feeling in his arms, from the water or the tight ropes he didn't know. Probably both.
“Deeeaaann!” he screamed once more before the water rose to his ears, forcing him to tilt his head skyward to keep his mouth and nose out of the water. His chest felt like it was being crushed by the tons of water pouring into the room but it also felt like it was about to explode from the panic welling inside him.
“Damn it, Dean, help me!” Then the water closed over his nose and mouth, cutting off his air supply and any chance for him to call for help again. The freezing water seemed to wrap icy fingers around Sam’s chest, slowly forcing the air from his already burning lungs.
He resisted frantically, still struggling against the ropes that bound him to the chair. Then the water around him grew a tad brighter and Sam could see a dark figure plunge down into the hold in a flurry of bubbles and stroke quickly through the water toward him.
Dean ignored the angry shouts that lingered behind him as he tore out of the fishing docks, the stolen outboard racing full speed atop the water. Off in the far distance he could see only one fishing boat out in the middle of the ocean listing dangerously and he aimed his craft in that direction.
He’d easily bet that Sam was on that fishing trawler. It would be just like his brother to stray from the plan and start out on their hunt by himself and then get into trouble. Big trouble. And what better way for crooks to dispose of spies and trespassers then to trap them on a sinking boat.
Just as the thought came to his mind, a motor boat came roaring around from the far side of the trawler to speed off to the right and Dean’s heart stopped with the chilling realization that his brother was on the boat. The four men in the boat wore black hoods and dark sun glasses; all of them looking mean as hell.
Dean knew he had little time to get there before it sank with his little brother aboard. As his little outboard came along side the large trawler, Dean stalled the engine and jumped, grabbing onto one of the many ropes hanging from the side and pulled him self up hand over hand.
He landed with a thump on the deck of the trawler and grabbed onto the rigging to keep him self from sliding across the slippery, tilting deck.
“Sam?” he shouted as he ran tilted toward the cabin. The door stood ajar and Dean whipped in, holding onto the doorframe to keep him self from going all the way into the room. It stood empty and Dean let out a hiss between his clenched teeth.
The hold was his next best bet and Dean half slid half ran down the deck to the hatch, yanking it open hard. It was almost completely filled with dark rolling water and Dean gasped. “Please don’t be down there, Sam,” he growled before plunging feet first into the water, the shock of how cold it was almost robbing him of his air.
Toward the back of the room, Dean could see his brother’s tall form near the floor and he prayed that Sam was alright for the time being.
'Hurry!' Sam’s mind screamed as he stared desperately at the figure, willing them to move faster. As the person grew nearer, Sam’s half squinted eyes could roughly make out who it was and he let out a relived, muffled exclamation, instantly regretting it when his lungs screamed in protest for the air he had unwittingly released.
Dean was suddenly beside him, pulling out his long Bowie hunting knife from his belt and sawing at the ropes holding Sam’s wrists behind his back and tight to the chair.
Even sawing as fast as he could in the water, Dean knew it wasn’t fast enough; his brother’s body was arching and bucking with the desperate need to draw in air and Dean’s heart began to pound furiously against his ribs, his own lungs begging for relief.
Sam knew he had to keep still so his brother’s work would be easier but his lungs screamed for oxygen, feeling ready to explode out of his chest and he couldn't control the instinctive thrashing to free himself.
Finally the ropes around his brother’s wrists snapped and swirled slowly to the floor. Pulling himself around to cut Sam’s ankle ropes, Dean found those much easier and sliced through them within a few seconds.
When he looked up at his brother his heart almost stopped; Sam’s head and arms were floating limply in the water, his long bangs brushing the sides of his face as they moved with the current. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, tiny little bubbles leaking out from between his parted lips.
With heart pounding and lungs about to collapse, Dean grabbed his brother under his arms and launched them both up toward the hatch, pushing his feet against the stationary chair. The water had completely filled the hold by now, leaving no air pockets. Relief would only come after they exited the now almost fully sunk fishing boat.
It was tilting so heavily to the side now that Dean felt a flash of fear that it would flip over on its way down, trapping the brothers inside her. He swam faster, his fingers straining ahead of him to reach the hatch.
The short swim seemed like an eternity as Dean dragged his limp brother through the water, knowing they only had moments left before Dean’s oxygen supply expired and left them both floating dead in the water.
Everything was wavering before Dean’s eyes just as he reached the hold door which had fallen shut and he tried to push it up. At first it didn’t move and Dean’s heart slammed against his chest. He tried again and the door slowly creaked open with a loud hollow groan, trapped air bubbles rising from the hinges.
Dean braced his feet against the sides of the hatch and shot both of them through the water toward the surface which seemed miles away now. With each stroke upward, he could feel his strength ebbing but desperation forced his legs to keep kicking and his arms to keep dragging the water behind them.
Dean’s left arm began to lose feeling as Sam’s weight dragged on it and just when he was sure he couldn’t go any farther, his head broke the surface.
Gasping frantically, mouth wide open, Dean yanked in lungful after lungful of fresh air, choking on the waves, his chest aching from lack of oxygen and his head pounding.
Sam was still a limp weight on Dean’s arm and he pulled up, bringing his brother’s face above the surface and almost dunking himself in the process. His head flopped limply to rest against Dean’s shoulder, his face submerged under the icy water again and Dean’s heart dropped for the third time. “Sam. Sammy! Please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this, Sammy!”
While trying to keep them both afloat, Dean lifted his brother’s head with one hand and patted his pale cheeks, trying to wake his brother up.
He wasn’t rewarded at all. Not even by a shiver or flicker of his brother’s dark eyelashes which stood out drastically against his pale, clammy skin.
Dean raised his head quickly; water and shameless tears dripping from his chin, and scanned the waters.
There was nothing around for miles and Dean tried to swivel in the water to see behind him, looking for the little outboard he's stolen but it was no where to be seen. He wasn't surprised. The high waves could have sunk it within minutes.
His legs were suddenly so tired and both brothers sank under abruptly. As the water closed over his head, he heard the slap of something against the water and instinctively threw his free hand up to cover his head. Something rough and thick grazed his wrist and he realized it was a rope.
Forcing his legs to give him a little more leverage, Dean managed to kick himself and Sam above the surface again, his fingers groping for the rope. He found it and latched on, using all his remaining strength to keep a solid hold on the slippery thing.
Dean's ears heard a voice in the distance, but his mind was too foggy to focus enough to distinguish words.
Then suddenly, Dean felt himself moving through the water, his head sinking beneath the surface every now and again. He could feel his grip on Sam weakening further, but just when he was sure he'd lose his hold completely, his head bumped the side of a motor boat and several pairs of hands were on him, hauling him out of the water.
Sam began to slide out of his hands and Dean released the rope to clutching at his brother with both hands, dropping them both back into the waves. There were voices above his head but the rushing in his ears drowned them out.
Dean lips moved in a weak attempt to speak but he was too exhausted even to manage a grunt. Calling on the last reserves of his strength, Dean shoved his exanimate brother up toward the occupants of the boat, releasing his grip when he felt Sam being hauled out of the water.
Through heavy eyelids, Dean could see the side of a boat looming above and two pairs of hands straining toward him, but his own arms felt like chunks of lead dragging him down.
"Take care of Sammy," he murmured, or thought he did as his eyes slipped closed and his head sank beneath the waves for the last time.
Dean slammed awake, gasping in air frantically, sweat and water drenching him from head to toe. His ribs and back felt like they were on fire, as did his water-logged lungs but his brain pushed the pain away, one all consuming thought taking over. Sam. Where was Sammy?
He painfully turned his head to anxiously scan the room, trying to spot his brother. His mind didn't stop to wonder where he was or why he was there, he just had to find Sam.
Then his eyes fell on the bed adjacent to his and his whole body suddenly felt completely drained when he saw Sam lying on his back, eyes closed, chest rising and falling evenly with each breath he took.
Getting to his feet quickly, he tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his head and staggered over to his brother's side, dropping to his knees on the cool floor and resting a shaking hand on Sam's chest, needing the steady th-thump of his brother's heart beat beneath his fingers as reassurance that his Sammy was safe