fannishliss (fannishliss) wrote,

spn crack: "Eight Arms are Better than Two --right?" (rated g)

title: Eight Arms are Better than Two-- Right?
author: fannishliss
fandom: supernatural
rating: G
length: 899 words

summary: Sam, in s3, considered saving Dean from Hell by making him immortal through creepy super science.  In this story, the result is that Dean is an Octopus.

author's notes: from a comment fic at kalliel's journal, and also for indiachick.  Most G-rated tentacle story EVER.
warning: special arm (his third right arm)


As much as Hell had sucked, at first Dean was not fully pleased at coming back from Hell as a mollusk.

Waking up in a coffin, buried alive, digging himself out with his fingernails and getting his eyes and nose full of his own grave dirt -- that would be horrifying and disgusting. But waking up in a jar? Seeing Sam's concerned face peering in at him -- way more giant than it had ever been?

Dean was pissed.

At least, if he had to come back as a mollusk, he was one of the smartest ones. He flexed his various appendages thoughtfully, and though there were way, WAY too many of them, they all did his bidding, and were actually quite dextrous.

Sam kept him in the Jar for two days before Dean was transferred to a forty gallon tank. How could Sam go on hunts if he was tied to the maintenance of a 40-gallon marine aquarium? Dean realized that Sam had always been more than ready to quit Hunting, and having a small octopus (tan, with bright green rings) for a brother was excuse enough.

Dean had escaped from the Jar twice, unscrewing the lid with his clever tentacles, but Sam always found him, carrying him back to the Jar with in his gentle, humongous paws. Dean gave him a vicious sucker mark in revenge but held back from nipping him with his beak, because, what if he was venomous? Dean had watched a hell of a lot of Nature shows in his lifetime, and he knew that the tiniest octopi were the ones to watch out for. Damn straight.

The forty gallon tank, though, that wasn't so bad. Sam had done his research, as Dean knew he would. Dean could feel the smooth saltiness of the water and knew that Sam had the ph and salinity just right. The temperature was perfect. And Sam had gone all out, planting marine vegetables and getting Dean several little sea caves to choose from. Dean had a blast, jetting backward all over the tank and wedging himself into tiny crevices.

Sam had bought a tight-fitting lid for the tank, outfitted with a light on a timer. The burbling of the aerator was the only thing that bothered Dean. Looking at the world through a panel of glass -- hey, it beat the rack, that was for sure.

Dean thought about his time in Hell and wondered how he'd gotten out. He remembered being torn apart by Hellhounds and having the shredded, pulpy mass of himself laid out on Alistair's rack to be reconstituted and torn apart by the arch-demon at his whim. He couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten out of Hell --he thought he remembered a gruff voice saying "Zachariah will not be pleased" and unblinking blue eyes full of consternation.

Dean had wielded the torturer's blade himself -- eight blades at once if you wanted to get technical about it. He wasn't proud of what he'd become -- far from it. It haunted him when he tried to sleep-- or whatever it was that octopi did -- when he went into one of the littlest sea caves and tried to block out the world from his huge, lidless eyes.

Sometimes Sam would come and look at him. Sometimes Dean would creep out of his cave and stare back.

Time passed. Dean found that he was a mollusk of many talents. He had some great ink-- once during a staring contest with Sam he'd gotten so pissed off that he'd shot across the tank and only afterwards realized he'd left a giant cloud of bluish black ink behind him. Cool. He could change color like crazy -- awesome. And then he found his special arm. That kept him pretty well occupied for a while.

Eventually he realized he could dream -- but not just any dream -- some kind of telepathic shit. He could go inside Sammy's head and dream there with him. Sammy's head was pretty weird, things like Sam was a giant whale and Dean was his squid best friend. Dean tried not to judge.

Then eventually Sam picked up on it, and realized he really had brought his pulpy big brother back from Hell. He cried all over Dean, which kind of stung, because his tears were too salty, but still, Dean didn't beak him.

Then Sam bought him an iPad and mounted it near the tank and Dean could climb up and use his tentacles to communicate-- easier than dreams and as always way better than Hell.

Sammy let him have a bite of cherry pie for his birthday, which he wasn't sure he would like, but he totally did. Even better than live clams, which kind of seemed a little bit like cannibalism, but with so much demon still in him, Dean wasn't sure he really minded all that much.

"We're gonna fix this, Dean," Sammy promised. "I got a lead on that Angel that pulled you out of Hell, blah blah blah." Dean was really grateful for everything Sam had done. He was, even though it was at least partly Sam's creepy super science scheme that had made him into a mollusk. Sam had become a great marine aquarist, and Dean had loaded the iPad with plenty of old school metal, so he really had nothing to complain about.

All things considered, it could have been so much worse.


More author's notes:  Here is a great article

I just want to reassure everyone that Dean's lifespan is magically prolonged, due to Sammy's creepy super science scheme.

and a really gorgeous vid of a little blue ring in a tank. Really they should only be in the ocean tho!

Tags: crack, dean, fic, sam, samndean, spn

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