#something possessed me this weekend and I just tunnel visioned working on this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chemicalvelocity · 3 years

Text

Happy Friday! I need therapy

So I wrote a fic for Fingers in my mouth Friday! Hope Y'all enjoy it.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings apply

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel

Word Count: 3545

Read Below the Cut:

Dean's not a creep. He's not, he swears. It's just that he's... noticing things now that he's not on high alert for monsters anymore.

He remembers the first evidence of Castiel he'd ever seen, an angry burn scar of a handprint. He thought it was a demon's for christ's sake. He hadn't paid mind at the time to the fact that it took up his entire deltoid.

Now, however, he was absently tracing its outline after a shower, staring more through the mirror than at it while recalling the events of breakfast. Jack had playfully started the comparing hand sizes game that seems to entertain kids so much.

Dean hadn't even put any thought into it until it turned into everyone else doing it to humor him; which culminated in Dean foolishly slapping his palm to Cas's and then realizing just how much smaller his hand was.

Naturally, he'd joked it off and found his way out of the conversation, acting like it wasn't a bruise to his ego. He had thousand-yard stared his way through a shower, and now, here he was.

He carefully fitted his hand over the scar tissue on his shoulder, and yep, there it was, a literal physical reminder of Cas's massive hands. He got over himself as quickly as he could and threw on his clothes before going to the garage to wash Baby.

That turned out to be a bad idea, as many of Dean's ideas do. Cas was sat in a lawn chair with the tunnel doors cracked, rolling a joint. Dean had pointedly ignored him, turning to rinse the car until Cas spoke up.

"Would you like some?" He asked, looking over at Dean with a twist of his slender fingers as his tongue darted out to wet the rolling paper's adhesive. Dean swallowed.

"Y'know that shit's bad for you, right?" Dean grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it. He opened a drawer to pull out sponges and brushes, tossing them into nearby buckets and setting them down near Baby's rear fender

"I think you know that's not true." Castiel hummed, placing the fresh joint between his lips, bringing the flame of his zippo to the end, and inhaling deeply.

"Whatever, Stoney baloney... Don't you usually smoke out on the roof, anyway?" Dean asked, filling up the first bucket with hot water and suds, the second with only cold water.

"It's raining," Cas replied, voice husky from the strain of holding in a hit. "Frankly, the Bunker is well ventilated enough that I could smoke in the library... where we still keep ashtrays on the table, but I figured I'd come in here to keep it away from Jack." He mused, blowing his lungful of smoke out the door.

"Right... Gotta say Cas, I'm sure second-hand smoke doesn't affect 20-year-old Nephilim toddlers." Dean chuckled, saturating the sponge in the first bucket and slung the soap across the Impala's roof, leaning up to scrub away the dust and bugs that come from hauling her back and forth across the Midwest.

"No, but I don't want to influence him, he's very impressionable, you know." Cas flicked the collecting ash into a labelless beer bottle that sat discarded in his chair's cupholder.

"I wonder where he could've gotten that from. Claire came to visit for one weekend and all of a sudden you're Bob Marley!" Dean teased, and Cas narrowed his eyes at him.

"I am not a musician, nor a Rastafarian, Dean. Claire simply pointed out that I think too much, and that cannabis is known to help." He drew in a deep hit and outstretched his arm to Dean, the cigarette balanced between two fingers. Smoke twirled lazily into the air around him.

Dean made a show of rolling his eyes before coming over to pluck the smoke from Cas's possession. Cas watched him appraisingly as he took a drag, then another, and Dean almost choked when Cas's lips parted for the stream of smoke to travel neatly into his nostrils.

Okay, so Claire taught him how to french inhale. Dean idly wondered if he knew what ghosting was, before passing it back and returning to his task, pretending like his lungs didn't burn from the comparative lack of practice.

Dean hit the wall hard, his breath punched out of him with a grunt. He scrambled to his knees and whipped his head around to see Sam in a similar position nearby. Cas was still standing though now surrounded by three, very pissed-off demons, one of which had Dean's angel blade. Dean attempted to gather himself and help out, but his vision went sideways and he steadied himself against a table, opting to call out the angel's name, stupidly.

Cas had slashed the leg of the demon to his right and grappled the one to his left. As the first one went down, his palm met its forehead and smote it out of its meatsuit. The middle one charged him, but he spun the demon in his grip, shielding himself by launching his captive forward onto the blade, then seizing the neck of the remainder, holding him in place firmly. He turned to the bewildered hunters casually.

"Did you need him for anything else?" Dean bit down on his tongue in a failed attempt to reintroduce moisture to his mouth.

"N-No, Cas I think we're good, knock yourself out..." he rasped as Castiel tightened his grip on the demon's throat, and light burned out from under its skin. Sam and Dean had picked themselves up off the floor by now and made their way to the middle of the room.

"Good work, buddy," Dean panted as Cas piled up the bodies at his feet, and wiped blood away on his jeans. "Guess you hardly need us."

"Of course I do, You made an excellent distraction." Cas smiled and while Dean was sure it was a genuine statement, definitely felt the hit to his pride. Maybe he was just getting too old for this shit. Sam snorted at something and walked out. Dean didn't know what, but he didn't want to hit him any less for it.

"Hey, Cas, I have a bit of a concussion from the hunt the other night. Can you work a little magic?" Sam rubbed at his eyes, setting his laptop aside. Dean raised his eyebrows from his seat, taking a sip of beer. He wouldn't have asked Cas to expend any healing energy on himself, but Cas didn't protest. Instead, he hardly looked up from his book and snapped his fingers. Sam visibly relaxed. Dean did not.

"Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I'm gonna go grab some grub, probably just pick up a pizza and some beers or something." Sam held his hand out for the impala keys. Dean tossed them to him with half a mind.

When Sam was gone, he was still staring at Cas in confusion.

"Can I help you with something too, Dean?" He quirked an eyebrow over his book. Dean cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Nope, no, I'm okay, just a few scrapes. Can't have you wasting your mojo on that... I was just wondering why you didn't, uh, y'know," He tapped two fingers to his forehead and Cas's eyes turned up in a half-smile.

"I don't need to do that to heal."

"Oh... okay." He'd already asked a weird question, probably best not to pry into why Cas always touched him to heal. He tipped back the rest of his beer and fumbled around for an excuse of some sort to break the silence, but Cas stood first.

"I'm going to go find Jack. Let me know when Sam's back with dinner." He passed Dean with a warm squeeze to his shoulder. Dean watched him go, then realized just how long it's been since he's been laid. Too fucking long, apparently.

Yeah, no. Way too long. Dean's half-convinced Cas is fucking with him, too. His suspicion stemmed from Cas's sudden love of eating every meal with them and requesting things like wings or fries.

"Morning sunshine, Sam and Jack already left to go check out a case. I made pan...cakes..." Dean's sentence fell flat when his eyes met Cas entering in a half-buttoned-up shirt. His long fingers slipped buttons into place as he yawned his greeting and trudged his way to the coffee maker.

Dean was a little concerned that he noticed Cas's hands before he noticed the toned and tanned chest underneath the shirt. He ran a hand down his face and moved to pour more coffee. Cas passed over the pot and turned to the stack of pancakes, tossing two onto a plate and proceeding to destroy them with fruit and whipped cream.

"When was the last time we cleaned our firearms?" Cas asked, swirling his finger through the toppings of his breakfast before popping it in his mouth. Dean set his mug down, a little too hard. Cas gave him a look.

"Are you fucking with me?" Dean tried not to sound petulant, but he can't catch a single break. Cas bit his lower lip, and then cleared his throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Was his response, innocent and hid behind a sip of coffee. Dean pursed his lips.

"You- you don't?" Dean was momentarily taken aback. Was he so unbelievably tense that he'd imagined the whole problem?-

"No, Dean, you've been staring at my hands all week, I have no idea what you're talking about." he deadpanned.

Dean's face burned. He didn't think he was being obvious about it or anything. Cas was observant, though.

"At first I thought you were just insecure about your hand size, but surely you'd have gotten over that in a day. Then I did some research and decided to... Encourage you." He continued casually as if Dean wasn't praying for the earth to swallow him whole.

"I uh, appreciate that, Cas... Um, what conclusions exactly did you draw?" Dean squeaked out because frankly he still wasn't sure what was going on here.

"You may have a sexual preference for hands, which makes sense, given your previous statements regarding slapping." Cas hummed into his coffee and, yeah okay Dean needed to end this conversation before he melted from shame.

"Okay, right, got it, I'll stop staring." He managed, grabbing his mug and turning to leave before Cas grabbed his arm. He glanced down at the sudden warmth around his wrist, then up to meet Cas's cobalt gaze.

"I never told you to stop," Cas said calmly, loosening his grip to slip his fingers into Dean's hand and pull him closer. "Dean, I researched it." His expression was earnest, and Dean shuddered involuntarily.

"Listen, man, It's not like, a thing... It's just, well, you have nice hands, and you kinda marked me... with your very large hand." Dean still wanted to disappear, but Cas didn't seem too bothered.

"I wanted to tell you, I touch you when I heal because I like the excuse to," Cas murmured, raising his other hand to cup Dean's jaw. Dean's breath hitched. "I enjoy the warmth. Everything else is always so cold." Cas whispered, running his thumb lightly across Dean's bottom lip. Dean couldn't stop the noise he made as it caught on his nail.

Cas's pupils grew wide, and he curiously pushed his thumb deeper. Dean closed his lips over it and sucked gently, noting the faint taste of the strawberries Cas had put on his pancakes. Dean pulled back before he embarrassed himself any further.

"Uh," Dean's brain replied dumbly. "Can I kiss you?" His dick helped with that one.

"I just put my thumb in your mouth and you feel the need to ask-" Cas's snark was cut short by Dean pressing him up against the counter and slotting their lips together. Cas gripped the front of Dean's shirt and kissed him back like a man dying of thirst. This is why Dean's thought process is filled with question marks when Cas puts a hand firmly on his chest and pulls back to speak.

"I don't think the kitchen is the best place for this." He rumbled into their shared space. Dean perked back up when he realized the proposition.

"Did you wanna finish your breakfast first? I can't guarantee we'll be back in here any time soon." Dean wiggled his eyebrows at the angel.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Dean," Cas smiled. "I'd love to. While I do I think you probably want to go get ready." Cas wiped the look off Dean's face when he reeled him back in for another kiss.

"O-oh, yeah, okay. Meet you in my room in ten." And then he was speedwalking out of the kitchen.

Dean turned off the shower after a very thorough cleaning and wrapped his towel around his waist, hurrying back down the hallway to his room. Cas was sitting on the bed patiently.

"Hello, Dean." He smiled, reaching up to tug off his tie. Dean's throat went dry again.

"Hi," Dean was clutching his towel like a lifeline. Cas observed him fondly as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Did you want me to put something on? Or..."

Cas just chuckled and beckoned him closer. Dean stood between his legs and his heart dropped out of his ass when Cas took his hands and pulled gently, signaling for Dean to kneel. He lowered himself slowly to his knees and looked up at Cas, expectant, and not at all freaking out on the inside. Cas leaned in to kiss him again. That, he could work with.

"I want you to put your hands on my knees, and you can't move them unless I say so, is that alright?" Castiel spoke when they parted.

Oh.

Apparently, hand kink isn't the only thing Cas researched. Dean felt the command go straight to his dick. He nodded hastily, but Cas said nothing, only waited, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes, Cas." He breathed, and Cas grinned and shrugged off his shirt, tossing it into Dean's desk chair.

"Good. Get comfortable." Dean sat back on his heels and placed his hands on top of Cas's thighs. Cas placed both of his hands on Dean's shoulders, rubbing small circles in the muscle before he slid them upwards to massage the back of Dean's neck. When Dean was staring up at him with hooded eyes and humming his appreciation, Castiel's patience grew thin.

Cas held the back of Dean's neck steady, tracing the fingers of his right hand down Dean's temple and across his lips. This time, Dean didn't have any reservations about darting his tongue out to meet them. Cas inhaled deeply through his nose and pushed his index and middle fingers into Dean's mouth.

Dean sighed and let himself go, he lapped at Cas's fingers like he was starving. He held Cas's heated gaze and felt his dick wake back up, twitching underneath his towel.

"So good, you're such a good boy for me, Dean." Cas praised. Dean thought he might pass out. The feeling of Cas inside him, even if it was just his fingers sliding along his tongue was heady. He looked down and took notice of the increasing tightness of Cas's pants. Cas slid his fingers out and leaned back on his elbows. Dean panted, his fingers gripping Cas's thighs with the effort of keeping still.

"Would you like something else, Dean?" Cas smirked down at him. "All you have to do is ask." Dean screwed his eyes shut and swallowed his pride.

"I want," He let out a shuddering breath as Cas ran a hand through his hair. "I want to suck you off."

"You can move your hands now." Cas hummed and leaned his head back. Dean practically sprung forward, ignoring the ache in his calves as he latched his mouth onto one of the angel's nipples. His hands made quick work of Cas's belt and fly, tugging firmly at his pockets to get them off. When Cas's flushed erection came free, Dean leaned forward to mouth at the head and cup his balls.

Cas wove a hand into Dean's hair and pulled. Dean moaned around the cock in his mouth, drawing a deep groan from Cas in response. Dean drank in the sound and relaxed his jaw to swallow him down further, bobbing his head rapidly.

"Dean." Cas sounded wrecked, and Dean's head snapped up to attention.

"Yeah?" He asked, breath heaving as he leaned up to his eye level.

"May I-"

"Anything, Angel, seriously." He pressed his lips to the heated flesh under Cas's jaw, sucking hard and nipping gently.

"I want to fuck you." Cas gasped, leaning into Dean's mouth. Dean nodded and climbed to his feet to get the lube from his nightstand. Cas sat up and wrenched Dean's towel away. His eyes roved Dean's body appreciatively before pulling him down on the bed. "Lie down on your front, please." He purred, and Dean was on his elbows in an instant, handing back the lubrication.

Cas caressed the contours of Dean's back reverently, before gingerly parting Dean's cheeks and licking a broad stripe across his hole. Dean felt his whole body twitch.

"Fuck, C-Cas..." Dean whined out, completely sideswiped by Cas's impromptu rimjob. He helplessly thrust his hips back against Cas's grip. Castiel reeled back a single hand and gave Dean's ass a hard smack. Dean dropped his face into his pillow with a keen from the back of his throat.

"Sit still, Dean. Let me take care of you." He growled, mouthing kisses from the base of Dean's spine to the cleft of his ass again. He laved his tongue in tantalizing circles, fucking it in and out nimbly and drawing a chorus of breathy sounds from the hunter.

"Please, Sweetheart... I need you... Need you inside me, c'mon." Dean whimpered, writhing under the sensation of Cas's hot breath and slick tongue. Cas finally gave in and sat up, reclaiming the bottle of lube to squeeze a sizeable portion directly onto Dean's entrance. Dean shivered from the sudden cold, only to cry out again when Cas's strong index finger slid in with very little resistance.

Cas continued to pepper Dean's shaking shoulders with wet kisses as he thrust his finger in, curling it hard against Dean's prostate and savoring the faint sound of Dean nearly wailing into his pillow. He slid in a second finger and scissored them back and forth to make way for a third. At this point, Dean had lifted his head and turned towards Cas with pleading eyes. Cas leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

"You're doing so well, Dean... Are you ready?" Cas mumbled into Dean's mouth.

"Yeah, Christ... Yes, Cas, please." Dean managed to get his knees under himself and Cas slicked himself up, working the head of his cock into Dean's fluttering hole. He clutched at Dean's hips and slowly rocked himself in deeper. "Fuck!" Dean yelped, trying to meet Cas's thrusts to no avail.

"Relax, my love." Cas moaned, rolling his hips into Dean, captivated by the catch of skin around him. "Do you want to move?" He asked, and released his iron hold on Dean's waist with a chuckle when Dean nodded eagerly. Dean thrust back against Cas with abandon. A surprised gasp was drawn from both of them as Cas sped up his thrusts to match. Dean was going to come if Cas didn't slow down, so he gathered his thoughts enough to speak up.

"Cas, wait. Can I flip?" He panted, and Cas's onslaught came to a stop.

"Of course, Dean." He pulled out carefully and leaned away for Dean to position himself on his back. Castiel admired the flush that spread down Dean's neck and covered most of his chest. He leaned forward to suck dark hickeys into Dean's collarbone to contrast. Dean reached down to guide Cas back inside, sighing amorously when he was seated again.

Cas rocked in and out once more with renewed enthusiasm. He snapped his hips forward, causing Dean to arch up off the bed with a shout. Stars burst behind his eyelids as Cas lifted Dean's legs to wrap around his waist and repeated contact his prostate shot sparks through his bloodstream.

"Ah-fuck, Cas, Baby... I'm gonna come. Are you almost there?" Dean gasped and reached up to pull Cas down for a vehement kiss when he grunted his confirmation. Dean felt the heat of his release coil deep in his gut and rocked up into Cas with a fervor, moaning heavily into Cas's mouth with each collision of their hips.

Then the tension in Dean's core snapped, and he was coming without so much as a moment's attention to his dick, clinging to Cas's shoulders with a fucked out whine. Cas kept going and Dean's synapses felt like they were being deep-fried as Castiel's stuttering hips drove him in deeply one, two then a final time as he emptied himself into Dean with a low groan. He then pulled out slowly and rolled off a now depleted Dean to spoon him.

"I think I'm in love with you." Dean wheezed, and Castiel grinned into his hair.

"I'm glad I could help you come to that epiphany. I love you too, Dean."

#Spn #spn fanfiction #destiel fanfic #my writing #minors dni #dean winchester #Castiel #Fimmf #Happy Friday!!#destiel #deancas #casdean #dean x cas #supernatural fanfiction

37 notes · View notes

valeandfade · 6 years

Text

Still Waters : MerMer AU

THE REPOST

So It was super glitchy on the phone app so we split it to try and make it easier to read. we think there was too many words.

Hey guys, take this in honor of MerMay that we didn’t really get to participate in, though we love mermaids (Especially Xell, they’re her favorite). It’s still may Technically so at least we didn’t miss it. This was written a little while ago, but it was fun.

Tell us if you like it!

Word Count: 14846

NOTES: IT IS SUPER SUPER AU. AUs: Mermaid!AU, AlternatePairing!AU

It was written as pure self indulgence and was super fun.

PART ONE

It was dark.

Somehow, Carson hadn’t thought the end would be so dark. He had heard stories, little rumors of what death would be like, the standard ‘bright light at the end of the tunnel’ having embedded the imagery that death would be white, bright and powerful, an eternity stretched out before you as you fell away into it. He pictured it warm, happy, soft…. But as he struggled to breathe, pain rippling over his skin as he struggled to find which way was up, Carson could only describe an abyss that rested before him, all consuming and unforgiving. There was no direction, just endless black that had his mind hazing with ice, his mind freezing in the tundric waters that now created his grave.

The ocean had never been a kind mistress...He should have been more careful.

“Carson! Get away from the edge!”

His Brother’s voice was frightened, the anxiety that was clearly running through his veins laced in his words, a light tilt to his voice that made him look up from the railing of the boat that they had both come to adore, their little run away from the overbearing pressures of human society. It was his mother’s boat, something she had saved up for and bought before she had even met their dad, but she allowed them to take it out to open seas when they wanted to, so long as she didn’t have a trip planned. Ragnar had decided to take it out this weekend, and Carson had to beg him to let him come along, having missed the open ocean, salty winds brushing kisses along his face.

His hands clenched the metal as he leaned back, mismatched eyes on his Brother’s own, his eyes widening as he gripped the wheel of their boat harder.

He smiled, tilting his head, opening his mouth to say something, when the boat rocked suddenly, jerking with some hidden underwater rock edge or a particularly nasty wave, one the would have been expected due to the darkening storm clouds that were circling ahead. Carson felt the boat buckle under him, jerking forward. Not having kept his footing stable, Carson lurched, his body moving, flipping into the dark waters below.

Pain ripped over his mind as his head slammed into something hard, and Carson Watched as his World faded from Blue, to red…. Then black..

But he didn’t sleep for long. His body forced awake as his lungs tried to draw breath, only feeling the heavy set of the salt water around him sliding into his lungs, pressing against his chest to bind his heart, the thud and roar of his own heart beating running through his ears. Everything felt light, but heavy, stuck in one spot with nowhere to go.

‘Shit…’

Carson cursed, his hands finding his throat as he heaved, needing air but his mind not receiving, darker spots of black flashing over the abyss before him. He struggled, but his body was starting to slow its response, limbs heavy, sluggish, the ice in his veins making his whole body ache.

He felt so tired…..

‘I don’t want to…..’

----------

Truthfully? Lochlan Hated this job.

It wasn’t that it was hard. On the contrary, hard labor was tiring, to be sure, but it wasn't anything Lochlan could call difficult. It was simple motions, simple turns and pulls to lift the nearly cripplingly heavy pulls of fish from the ocean, the scent of salt and brine all he could smell and the lingering scent of the still wet cigarettes that clung to him. There was the sound men’s laughter, the ugly cursing of men twice his age calling out vulgarities to each other, to him and his Ever silently friend, Ebbe. Ebbe took it all in stride, ignoring the ribbing of the other men on the ship with a pop of the bubble gum in his mouth, Lochlan acting as mouthpiece and spokesperson for the two newbies on the trip, the only one to say anything back as they ribbed on him.

“Don’t throw out your back, Pretty boys! Get your arms into it! Get your asses moving, the fish ain’t gonna just JUMP ON BOARD!”

“It’d Go a Lot faster with ALL OF US PULLING, JACKMAN!”

Lochlan curses as he momentarily lost his grip, hearing the grunt as Ebbe caught the slack his distraction had cost him. A quick sorry over his shoulder was the only apology that Ebbe would receive, his ears burning as the sun beat down on him and the dark laughter of men who had nothing better to do the bully the newest crew members lingering in his mind, his lips pulling back to let out a growl as he cast a look over to Ebbe, his friends long red hair sticking to his face and back and neck, the beanie he wore doing nothing to help keep the strands hidden….

Though Lochlan could not talk, his own duel colored strands sticking to his neck itching as the sweat rolled down his back.

The others would not help them, testing them, throwing them to the choppy waters to see if the sink or swim. Lochlan knew it, and So did Ebbe, and really, if this job didn’t pay so well, Lochlan would have given up a long time ago, would have told them to go fuck themselves and hidden away until they returned home, their trips never longer than a few days in the off season. Lochlan hated them, the way the underestimated him and the way they seemed to think he was the village fucking idiot and talked to him slowly, to help him understand. Normally he just would roll his eyes and do his job, but today? Today the forecast called for heavy storms and choppy waters, and being out in conditions so ready to become dangerous, and STILL pulling this stupid hazing ritual was irresponsible and stupid on their part. They Were going to lose a whole net just to fucking push them and see how far it too until they broke.

Lochlan would not break.

Things would be so much easier if he could.

As it was the ocean called to him. In what way, he never really could say, but there was a need in him, a pirate’s blood call in his veins made the sea sing to him, her waves soft and whispered lullabies, her currents and riptides calling to him. He needed to be by the ocean, needed to be surrounded by her.

It was why he worked so hard, why he jumped at the chance to work on this boat.

His calling was here, on these waves, in these waters, He just had to find it.

“Why is this so fucking heavy?” Lochlan cursed, yanking again to pull just that little bit more out of the churning waters. He could have swore he heard splashing, like something huge was slapping its tail against the ocean's surface, but eh didn’t dare look up, his focus on pulling this net in before the storm caught them off guard.

He pulled, He yanked and finally, after what felt like a thousand years of nothing but holding the world on his shoulders, there was a final cry, both Ebbe and his body swinging with the effort of pulling the net up and over the boat's railing.

And the world froze, silent, for a moment as Lochlan saw him for the first time.

He was small, smaller than any of the men on board, his skin tan and dusted with freckles along his shoulders face and arms, hints of them along his torso. He sucked in a breath, teeth sharp, and the tail of something far beyond humanity slapped against the wooden surface of the boat.

“What the actual Fuck is that?”

Ebbe’s first words spoken aboard this ship. At any other time it would have caused an uproar, but the words now were only met with silence.

“Someone bring me my radio… Mr. Dhouti is gonna want to hear about this.”

-------------

Dear god, no. This wasn’t going to happen to him. Not now, not when he had so many mistakes to already make up for. He already had so many rules broken, so many errors that had almost cost him and his friends lives. That was why he was out here, to make up for them. To prove that he was still needed in this kingdom of theirs.

He had to prove that he was actually worth the pain that they had to put up with.

Whiskey colored eyes watched the man, horrified, watched as his body slammed against the rocky edge of the mountain. Bile roe in the back of his throat as the man slide through the turbulence. His hands reaching, grasping out only to find nothing to save him, no one to see the man struggle to survive underneath the power of the currents. But he was valiant in his efforts, a trait that Echo could only applaud. A trait that Echo himself wished he had possessed more than once. But here was this human, ditching all of his energy to try a perceiver for the air that was only feet away from the flailing man.

There was no way, no way to save him without being cast out, if anyone found out. But the fear he felt jerking his heart to his throat was real, it was dangerous and turned the man’s vision hazy as he swam closer to the fighting human.His eyes never leaving the man, instead focused, trained to the spot where the man thrashed.

Twice. Twice!

The man almost had the surface his fingertips only inches away from the breaking point between air and water. Echo could hear his lungs screaming out for mercy, could hear the man’s heart racing relentlessly to win against the pain that must have been wracking his body at this point.

‘Fight…. Fight it!’

Fingernails grazed the inside of Echo’s palms, bitting heavier and heavier as he saw the fight slowly dying in the darklings eyes. His body slumping, the thrashes turning less and less aggressive as he sank. It was over, he was giving up. He was dying.

‘No. No. No… Oh,.... nonoonononononono!”

Echo could feel his body lurching forward, his arms already extending to try and wrap the darkling into him before he could even contemplate the situation. His hands moving on his own as tanned finger wrapped around the man’s chest, forcing him out of the murky darks of the water, he was light under the water, his body pressed too tightly against the warmth of his own chest. He didn’t have much time, his body forced the two through the surface, only for Echo to gasp, his lungs filling with oxygen. His fingers pressed the boy nose together, just as he had watched others do on the shore lines, and he pressed his lips to the boys mouth as they found the soft sand of the shores, his lips forcing the darklings apart so that he could do what he could only assume was right.

--------------

”Ethan, get it, my arms stuck…. Ethan! ITs stuck stop looking stupid and get over here and help me! ...Now!”

Panic was setting in, actual living fear was welling into his chest as he thrashed, his tail whipping under the currents that would have usually been calm. But there was a boat, far from the humans territory, there net wrapping bits of his arm into the thickly draw rope. Logically he knew. He needed to calm down, he knew that panic was no way to get out of here. To get out of the net he was going to have to have some sort of focus on the appendage and the net that was tangled around his scales.

“You have to calm down Ridley. Ridley! Calm down. I can’t help you f you’re thrashing around like that.”

But no matter how many time he thought to calm himself, no matter how many times he opened his mouth to take that calming breath, he found the terror was only sinking in. Even as pale fingers ripped away at the net from his arms his tail still swung, his body still yanked out trying to pull himself from the net. A motion he would regret as his tail jerked, only to find the net tangled into the briny ropes.

“Fuck! Fuck, COME ON RIDLEY STAY THE HELL STILL!”

Genuine fear gripped him, tore a hole into him as his eyes widened, his body trembled as Ethan yanked at the ropes, none of them seemed to come lose, none of them budged as he gripped each yanking and manoeuvring to get the ropes un-entwined. But nothing seemed to work. But he could see Ethan's eyes widen as a cran began, giant floodlights filling their vision. But Ridley had to give it to him. Ethan didn’t let go, instead his body pushed against Ridley trying to land some kind of force as he yanked at the ropes more viciously.

“Swim down Ridley! Swim down!”

He could only listen, his head nodding even as he began to shift, to try and power through the fishing net that was cast around him. Ethan grappled onto Ridleys free arm forcing the net down with himself. But it was to no avail. The lining to strong, and the fishers almost even stronger. The gasp that left him as Ethan's fingers slid off was appalling to say the least, his mouth opening to scream for those fingers that were outreached for him.

“Ethan!”

The air was cold, almost freezing against his skin, the wind almost blistering as the fresh night air plummeted against his exposed skin. But it distracted him briefly from the shock, from the hard floor hitting him, the net draping itself over his body, pressing him harshly into the woodend halt of the small fishing boat. Small finger reached yanking at the ropes as the eyes caught onto him, human eyes. They were every where, surrounding him in a small cluster.

He shook, his eyes wide as he took in each face. Their words played through his ears, but the meaning never hit. Their actions were those of confused children, the lot of them only gathering as one or two spoke. His escape was only inches away, the edge. He only needed to get the edge, even if he could only drop off with the net, at least Ethan could help him escape the cage he seemed to find himself in.

Small fingers inched quietly for a second, two, maybe, before he was bolting, using the end of his tail to push off the floor of the boat, his fingers gripping the ridge. Freedom was only a mere feet away.

“Ethan!”

----------

Carson didn't want to die.

Sure, there were moments, times when he thought otherwise, but in the moment, the moment that Death circled around him like the jaws of the beast, claws raking over his body, Carson found that he did not wish to die. He didn’t want this to be the end, didn’t want to live on ninteen years of his life before it was thrown away to the sea, another victim, another statistic that would push people away from the oceans and her beauty. He didn’t want to sink into her depth, didn’t want to be the reason Ragnar never went to sea again, because he knew, his brother would never forgive himself for allow this to happen on his watch. He was a freshman in College, had a future ahead of him that he wanted to see, scholarships and nights on the ocean he still wanted to enjoy...

But he wouldn’t get to. Because the sea had claimed him.

Carson didn’t want to die.

There was a strange feeling, a warmth that circled around him as he closed his eyes sluggishly, the darkness almost completely taking over his vision as he felt his heart starting to slow. There was a pressure, another bind about his chest as something spun around his head, a whooshing feeling threading through his mind as he felt his body drift. That darkness was still there, darkness that clung to him even as a warm solid feeling settled under him, an icy rush over him all he could feel.

That warmth was still there, still about his shoulders and grazing over his face before he felt something, a rush of air sliding through his body to push into waterlogged lungs. Carson felt it, once, twice, three times, before he suddenly jerked, his body forcing the water back up past his lips, burning as it force itself from his mouth, his nose, making the dark haired boy purge his body, turning to allow all the water and bile to fall onto the sands next to him. Had he died? The thought shot through his mind, and Carson decided that if this was dying, then dying really, REALLY sucked, and Hell looked a whole lot like home.

His whole body ached, his head throbbing as he tried to open his eyes, hand moving to lift up to his head, feeling pain explode behind his eyes he felt the gash on the back of his head, sand clinging to blood as he grazed fingertips over it. He still felt pain, so that was a good sign.

Carson sat up, only to let out a painful gasp as his head spun, pain throbbing enough to make him slip,slumping over as his hands reached up…. Only to land on something soft and wet, something that felt warm to the touch but strangely cold. Carson’s eyes finally opened, duel colored gaze holding nothing but confusion as he took in the sight before him.

The man Couldn’t have been any older than he was, his eyes wide, cognac colored with hints of red in the cinnamon brown. His gaze was on him, looking at him like one would look at a growling dog, all strangely hesitant and cautious. His skin was tan, blond locks falling to stick to his face, and it was only when he shifted that the light gleamed of the expanse of scales that created a long tail that resembled the legends he had read about when he was young, his mother's words filling his mind.

Mermaids, Carson… The Ocean is Deep, and she is vast. She gives no secrets willingly, and so no one can say for sure if they truly exist…

The kind of words used for children’s fairytales, to make them believe just that little longer. Carson could not say that he believed in Fairy tales anymore, but what eh could say, without a shred of doubt...Carson could say eh was…. Easily the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen.

He stared a moment, before his hand lifted, slowly, hesitantly, the worry that if he blinked this creature would be gone and left to his memories, a vision he would never be able to replicate. Was he real? He didn’t know. He didn’t seem real, mythic and strangely enchanting, beyond human.. His hand moved, hovered over his cheek, before he grazed his skin, a sharp gasp hitching his breath as he ran a fingertip over his cheek, his lips.

“Who are you?”

Carson asked. He had to be real…. Carson’s imagination was good, but he was sure he could never fantasize about a feeling so vividly.

“Did… You save me? Fuck…” Carson cursed as his head pounded again, looking away from the man to close his eye against the light shining off the waves.

“Where am I?”

---------------

Humans were vile, disturbing and blatant in their disrespect and their cruelty towards ocean life. They were selfish and wild. Unpredictable some said.

But if this wasn’t the most interesting human he had ever laid his eyes on.

A beauty that the gods and goddesses would praise for a millenia. And those eyes, god those eyes were ensnaring as they took him in. Echo swallowed around the boulder building in his throat, his fingers digging into the soft sand as the waves lapped against his tail. Something he should have been trying to avoid being seen.

But how could he just leave when he wasn’t even sure if the human was okay? All the work with no pay off? He thought not.

Echo watched, fascinated as the human stirred, his gaze unflinching as the darkling turned himself over, and it only seemed to grow more intense in his stare as the human turned those multi colored eyes to him. Locked him into place, when he knew he should have moved. Forced him to captured in the lights filling up behind those once dying eyes. There was something of marvel, something of wonder as he moved slightly to take in Echo. But there he was captured, entangled in the human that sat out beside him.

Cool air whipped around wet blonde tendrils of his hair, taned fingers movved to brush them back only to catch the darklings hand come up, his words slipping past to part those lips. Words he should not have been able to understand, words that were forbidden under the waves of the ocean. Words that once learned could earn a man’s death.

But he knew them. And he knew them well now, the simple brush of their lips together entwining the knowledge of this humans language into his veins. Pouring sickly sweet into him as he felt the smooth skin of the darkling brush over his freckled cheeks, over his lips.

There was a small shift in him, a skipped heart small, smoldering at the motion. A simple touch that had Echo concentrating much to hard to focus on the boys words, at least until the boy jerked. His hand coming up to his head in a jarring motion.

“Echo. Echo is my name. And yes, i did. No need to thank me.”

Echo’s heart snatched as he watched the darkling move backward, the words continuing to pour out of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you humans call this, we call it the End. Where the land reaches much too high for any of us to wander.”

There was a silence as he watched the boy writhed, and Echo shifted, digging his fingers into the small pouch that clung to his hip , digging for the small pocket of Salve he carried in the pockets. His other hand moved out, forcing the boy's neck to the side to let the bleeding gash hit the open air. Echo’s eyes narrowed on the cut, fingers trying to move the debris that seemed locked into his locks.

“This is going to hurt. But stay still for me a moment.”

The oiled substance stuck between his fingers as he pressed the tips of his fingers against the gash, smoothing the small amount into the wound. It would burn, it would sting the wound beyond any type of mercy but it would work. Help the blood clot and start to close the wound. The man would be able to be up and moving at any point,

at a point that he knew he should be far away as possible by then.

“It should start to take effect relatively soon. It is better to feel this type of pain rather than be dead i suppose.”

--------------------

“LOCHLAN! GRAB IT!”

The captain’s words shot out like gunfire, snapping lochlan from his trance at seeing something so strange. His body moved before he even really realized he had listened, the entirety of his 6’4 frame moving to push off against the slippery deck, his hands finding the body of the half man, half fish like creature. He practically tackled him, sliding along the floor to grab hold of his arm, his eyes widening as he spotted his other tangled up in the rope of the net he had just pulled up.

‘That explains why it was so heavy.’ Lochlan mused for all of a moment, feeling the slap as the boy struggled under him, his tail slapping against his jacket covered back, a grunt pulling from his lips as he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up as he rolled onto his back and forced them up, his breath heavy as he looked down at the man in his arms being held down by the weight of Lochlan and the tangle of the net.

“Calm down, I don’t want to hurt you!” He could hear himself saying, not really knowing if he could understand him, but choosing to try anyway. The boy wasn’t really that much trouble when he was subdued, his strength impressive by with the adrenaline running through his veins and the hours he had spent on this ship, in the gym training for this trip and for the team he had found himself on in highschool, Lochlan found he didn’t even feel it as the boy battered against him, though eh had the feeling it was going to leave some serious bruises.

“Take It to the Cargo Hold, any of you!…. I gotta get Mr. Dhouti on the phone…”

The captain mumbled his words after that choosing to turn on heel and head back toward the captain’s quarters, stopping just enough to turn to the rest of the baffled crew and snap his next orders. He looked stressed, his fingers cracking as they clenched and uncurled. The darkness of the clouds was starting to settle in, the storm approaching, and Lochlan had to wonder if he would die on this boat.

It was looking like a pretty big possibility.

“DROP ANCHOR HERE! I’m not leaving this spot until I get a hold of The Senator, so you all can quit your bitching and rest like the princess fucks you are.”

Then he was gone, returning to his quarters, and leaving them to fend for themselves.

Fucking asshole.

“Alright, Come on, Captain’s orders…” The voice of Crane, a man in his mid fifties with salt and pepper hair moved forward, his voice gruff and straight, like sand had worn at his vocal cords. He was like an alcoholic father figure that didn’t know how to stop making creep vulgar comments, but mostly harmless. That didn’t show as He shifted, picking up the boy roughly, mostly by the net to throw him over his shoulder, not seeming to care that the position looked like it would hurt.

“Stop! You’re gonna hurt him!”

Crane ignored him, just disappeared into the cargo hold.

“This whole boat is full of assholes…. Whatever, let’s just do what eh says and try and settle in…”

That didn’t prove to be easy. Once the Anchor was dropped, everyone pretty much settled in for the night. Crane and Jacob set up their cards, Ebbe had returned to his own little room to read the book he had brought along with him, a large thick tome in some sort of ancient language. The rest were milling about, but Lochlan returned to the boat’s deck, ignoring the clouds as he looked out to the ocean, watching her waves crack against the boat but held himself steady.

It was a stupid man who did not keep his footing at all times on a boat.

“You’re worried about it, aren’t you?”

Ebbe’s voice shot out, making the blonde and brunette bounce and jump, his gaze snapping back toward the redhead whose gaze matched the clouds above. He blinked, opening his mouth to say something but the words were halted by Ebbe again, who rolled his eyes at him.

“Just go check on him. You’re too nice…. You’ll make yourself sick again with worry, so just check on the thing…”

Ebbe shifted, leaning on the rails next to him.

“Just bring your knife with you.”

“I already have it….” Lochlan said as he moved, leaving his spot to head toward the hold.

He could have swore he heard him call him a bitch, but if it was from Ebbe, he probably didn’t mean it.

Lochlan creeped down the stairs, blinking into the dark as he looked around. His hand fell to his pocket fingering the pocket knife. The light was dim as he pulled the chain, illuminating the room to reveal scores of tools and weapons, nets and hooks, and in the middle of it all, tied to a support beam, was the creature.

“Hey… Hey… can you talk?” He asked as he moved closer, crouching down low, fingertips against the ground. He was close, close enough to smell the sea on him, Lochlan’s eyes flickering over him to see if he was wounded

“Are you hurt?”

---------

All the legends were true, all of the myths and lores he grew up on, thinking they were just trying to make a species so monstrous that none of them dared approach, were in fact real. The cruelty that laid in these creatures was black and lifeless, soulless. And he would not doubt it if they bleed black and grew horn in the middle of the night.

They were not creatures to be reckoned with. And his mistake would never be rectified, would only be fully understood after his death at the hands of these…. Monsters of the land. They ignored him, stopped his only attempt at leaving and moved him too far away from any possible escape now.

He was lost now. His fate would have to be simply accepted.

They were rough, fingers tightening on his skin with bruising forces. He tried, tried to call out to them, tried to beg with everything he could offer, bribe the humans. But not one of the men batted their eyes even the old guy that dropped him with a thump onto the ground seemed uninterested in his words.

Not that they could understand Ridley. He knew that. Knew that his words were coming out in chirps and gruffs that their ears could barely audibly pick up. Knew that they would only hear them if they concentrated hard enough, and knew that truly none of them had any interest in what he had to say at this point. He was only a pawn now. Could only be valued after his death took place.

“Sir, please…. Please… hold on… Sir!”

He called after the old man as he stood, his eyes looking over the ropes and net that tangled him, making sure that the work he had done was well. If Ridley had a say in it, the man had done too well. The ropes cutting into delicate flesh and scales as he bunched his tail as close to him as possible. Trying for the life to him look as small as he could. It wasn’t until the light shifted, flickering before turning completely out that dread wrapped itself around him.

It was cold, the air frosting over his skin as the wind whirled and whipped against the boat, the wooden structure creaking and groaning in the silence of the blackened room around him. It was heart wrenching, the cry that ripped apart his lips, Ridley could feel the tears stinging behind his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not to these humans, not to the absolute filth that inhabited this boat.

But for his brothers he would, for Ethan he would, for the life he knew was getting ripped away from him, he would. Another sob parted his lips, ripped through the silence he was trying to hold. His fingers clenching at his hips as he sunk deeper into this heart ache that was gripping him so heavily.

Until the lights flickered, the sound of foot steps accompanying the light that flooded the wooden floor. Ridley tried to move, to squirm into himself, to look away from the man as he bent over in front of him, his words ringing to unaccustomed ears. Ridley flexed, his fins shifting and widening, as the man spoke, his ears lifting to frill the fins that laid attached to them, as if this would help him understand the man in front of him.

“Don’t leave me down here… please.”

He knew the words would fall on deaf ears, knew that it would do nothing to beg for this man help. But he could try, could try to somehow get across to him. And he shifted trying to lean in closer to the man as he spoke. The chips poured from his lips, whines and gruffs trying to explain himself out of the situation desperately.

“Let me go home… I’m scared.”

------------------

The moment he spoke, Carson was ensnared, his head snapping back up to take him in again for a moment before the pain hit him again suddenly, achingly desperate to make it’s presence known that it slammed against his temples, pulsed behind his eyes and made alarm ring off in his head. His voice was soothing, the calming hint of the waves hidden in that voice, a pull like no other, practically a song in it’s own right. Carson couldn’t remember a time that he had thought so highly of a voice that had said something so flippant and carefree, like it was nothing, that he wasn’t a creature conjured up from the depths of his imagination.

But he was. There was no denying that, bit as the sun glinted off scales in luminescent colors, like the light shining off a puddle of oil. This man, Echo, Echo was something he had never dreamed of seeing, long having left fantasy on the shelf as he picked up textbook after textbook to follow in his father’s footsteps, all while ignoring the call of the ocean just outside of his home.

“I do need to thank you. I Thought… I thought I was gonna…” the words faded away, unable to voice what he had though, the truth he had almost accepted. There was a moment, before Echo spoke up again, moving on, But Carson would not forget.

Echo spoke, his words soft, and Carson could feel it as he mouth the words that the blond had just said, before the dots connect, his mind much too distracted by the freckles dusting over Echo’s face, the strange accessories he wore.

“We call this the Shore… or the beach. We’re closer toward the bay, if I can guess correctly.” The last words were mostly to himself, a mutter that was almost inaudible with his accent lining his words. His thoughts wavered, spilled over as he thought, and suddenly he felt hands on him, moving his hair out of the way, fingers threading through his hair to pull a shiver down his spine. He liked it, the feeling of his hands on him, and carson leaned into the touch, his eyes hooded but his gaze flickering through dark lashes to look at what he could of the blond, not wanting to take his eyes off him.

“Echo, what are you…?”

He didn’t get to say much else, as for the second time that dayl, pain exploded behind his eyes, lights flashing in his veion as the back of his head felt like it had been bashed in with a bat. He cried out, hands moving as he fell forward, his eyes squeezing shut as he let the pain run through him. It was fine, he thought, forced himself to think over the pain, small droplets welling in his eyes as he sucked in another breath.

He had dealt with worse.

“Ow… FUCK me… That hurts… what’s in that stuff, Glass?”

The words came out accented, thick with his native tongue as he hissed in displeasure, but true to his word, the pain started to fade, dimming away to something almost manageable. Carson’s hand moved, to trace over the gap, one that while still tender was now healing, and quickly. He could already feel the itch of scabs starting to form.

“Holy shi-”

“I have to go.”

Echo voice pulled him from his mind once again, and even if he wanted to eh could not keep the look of shock and disappointment from crossing over his features. He moved, his hand reaching out to grab Echo’s who looked down at their hands in what looked like shock or confusion. Carson didn’t care.

“Wait, I-”

“I have to go.” Echo repeated, and pulled his hand away. Carson Panic, watching as the man moved, sliding along the soft sands to pull himself into the waves, and before he lowered his head underwater, Carson moved, leaning forward.

“Carson! My name is Carson Dhouti! Thank you!”

And he was gone, and Carson was left alone, nothing but waves and seagulls calling to him.

--------------------

“Woah, Hey, Hold on, I can’t…”

Lochlan could see he was trying, Trying to speak, to say something, but the words were lost to him, ears too human, to foreign to truly understand what it was this boy was saying. They Were pretty, little chips and grunts and tilts that sounded something like a song, though he knew that this boy had no reason for singing as he was tied up, ripped from his home. His expressions flickered over his face freely, the tinge of desperation that lined his features made Lochlan’s heart clench tightly, his hand moving from out of his pocket as his hands came up, to lift and brush over his shoulders.

His heart hammered in his chest, seeing him like this bothered him, deeply. He could see he was afraid, could see the fear in his eyes as he tried to speak, tried to get his point across but could not.

“Calm down… I can’t understand you… Shit this would be so much easier if I was like Ebbe and could pick up twenty thousand other languages for fun…..”

Lochlan cursed his brain, not the first time and most certainly not the last. He wished he was book smart, Like Ebbe, like Carson, the kind of guy who had studied for fun and knew the answer to everything. As it was, Lochlan had hardly made it through school with his scholarships, his grade a product of work and long nights killing himself for not understanding simple questions. It would be helpful now, but all the wishing in the world did not change what was.

This boy was scared. He was terrified and had no one to help him. Hell, he had been thrown here without so much as a courtesy light, and a temper he tried to keep down flared brightly.

“Shh… It’s okay…” lochlan cooed, his lids lowering as his eyes hooded, his hands moving to brush over his cheeks , through his hair to sooth him in all the little ways that helped him. He settled, sitting his butt down on the cold floor, the rocking of the boat getting harder as he pulled the boy into his lap. His hand reached for his pocket again, pulling out the knife that started the man in his hands, making Lochlan wrap him in his arms to settle him down again. He spoke softly against his skin, his cheek, his temple, his neck, fingers tracing patterns over him in familiar ways, soothing him.

“Just the net… I’m gonna get you out of the net.” He pointed to the rope, his gaze locked on it as he moved slowly, pick up the trapped arm with a gentle touch, the blade finding the ropes to cut through them. It was a meticulous task, one that slowly made his arms burn with the weight of holding him close and working slowly through the ropes, until he was finally free, remnants resting on the floor around them like littered scales. Lochlan place the knife down, shifting so that eh could lift his hands in front of them both, turning them slowly.

“There. I’m done. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I don’t know how to help.”

He wanted to help. That was the thing. Lochlan wanted to help, wanted to say something, anything, to make that look of fear go away. But this was all he could do, all he could hope to do without understanding him. Lochlan’s hands ran through the man’s hair, blond locks and a red brown gaze that locked the older man in place. He held him, soothing over him with words that he hoped he at least understood the meaning, his hands running through hair and along his spine. He breathed stories to him, kept him safe as the boat rocked with the storm and the light shut off again.

Lochlan did not leave until they had docked, and he did not let go until the man was pulled from his hands.

Lochlan was given a bonus and told not to speak of it.

Lochlan had not slept well either, the sight of his face as he was being pulled away haunting his dreams.

He had to see him again.

He had to.

------------

It was world altering, a moment he would probably not forget for years to come. His fingers were still warm from the human's touch,... from Carson's touch. The look that he was giving Echo still gleaming even as he turned back to look through the ocean waters at the darkling that sat lost at shore.

He would find his way. What mattered, what truly mattered was that the human was safe, he was alive and breathing in the cool air into his lungs instead of the ocean water. Something Echo had learned through watching many humans, something he had witnessed first hand. It was simple, they breathed their air, their form oxygen and Echo breathed both.

The humans didn’t function on the same level, and took Echo seeing the marvel for himself to truly believe the words that his dad had spoke to him. Words of warning and those words were meant to scare them, him and his brothers. Meant to strike some kind of fear into the heart of the blonde boys that surrounded their father as he sung his praises of being mermaids. The praises of well they had it down here, how well they had all done to conceal their presents to humans for centuries.

And they were doing so well, until Echo had fucked it up. Unable to listen to the rules of their society. The number one being, leave the humans to their own. To never interact and to make sure that they never saw them. Was never able to lay eyes on a tail or fin. Or scales, anything of the sort. Anything that the greedy humans could deem as valuable.

But this human seemed thankful, truly. His interest lying in only the unknown of Echo and what could a human with no real way to find him do? Nothing that Echo could take too seriously. But he was alluring in his own way, the human boy Carson. His eyes haunting him even to this moment, those eyes that stuck to him so well. Even though Echo knew without a doubt that he may have been the one staring. A little too much, but a human up close was so different. Their reaction unexpected and reality unlike anything he had ever felt.

Echo could feel the smile pulling at his lips, offering what could only be described as a crooked smile.

“ECHO! THEY HAVE RIDLEY! THAT BOAT! IT TOOK HIM, IT TOOK HIM!”

The voice caused Echo to flinch to pulled so quickly out of his thoughts it was almost alarming. But small hand were yanking on his flesh as the words were bellowed. Distress etching every inch of Ethan's small frame. It was his brother's name though that caught him, that snapped his attention and forced Echo forward, his arms finding either one of Ethan’s biceps, pulling him close.

“What do you mean it took him? Ethan?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT TOOK HIM!?”

Echo could see the sheer grief over Ethan’s expression even as he got shook ruthlessly.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ETHAN?!”

------------

He should have been used to it, to the blistering cold and the wild winds that seemed to surround him by now. Should not have expected any sort of treatment besides this from the dastardly humans. Only a few had been allowed in, ogling at the what he could only imagined they called ‘fish-boy’. Hell, he would have called himself that,.... If he still had a fin or tail. Instead he had dried out, his skin losing it sheen as the cold air took away every drop that had previously clung to his flesh. Now in his tails place was what the humans called legs, sprouting but unmoving as he shifted uncomfortably in this new form of his.

Which had initially surprised him, scared him even further. He felt lost. Too far away from home as he sat in the cell, his back pressed into his corner and his legs shaking against his chest.

They were trying, he could say that, all pretty smiles and words of silk and honey. Not that that mattered. He didn’t respond instead trying to force himself smaller in his cage. They brought him squares of fluff, which he could only eyeball wildly. Was it supposed to be a comfort in the human world? A square of puffed fluff. The humans had given him dish after dish, trying to coax Ridley. Trying to force feed him until his teeth had found one of the men’s fingers. It was the last time one of them had walked into help him. The last time any of them had made attempts to calm the raging Langdon.

The only remnant he had now of his heritage was the scales that littered his skin, small splotches of ‘freckles’ and the fins that protected his ears so well. He knew he looked other worldly to the lot of them. Knew that most of them were only interested in the part of him that wasn’t ‘human’. But the truth behind it was, he wasn’t. He was a mermaid. A creature of fable and legends on dry land.

But his surprise only happened days after being there, his ears straining to hear the whispered words that echoed outside of the cell walls. But what he caught meant nothing to happen, instead only confusing him further. It was a woman's voice, soothing and caressing. Almost insuring as she spoke her words. But a man’s snapped back, firm in his resolution but yielding to her as she spoke, stopping to allow her to explain.

There was a silence before the man spoke again, this times his words brief. The tone defeated, he could almost visibly see arms getting thrown up over the situation.

Once more the woman spoke out, her words all the more loving, all the more soothing as she insured him.

But then the doors creaked open. And Ridley threw a glance over the tops of his knees to the dark haired woman. Her multi colored eyes on him, shining as she bent down outside the cell. Her forearms coming up to catch onto her thighs.

“Hello,... My name is Arber. Arber Dhouti. And i am going to need you to speak to me.”

Ridley marveled for a moment, his whole world spinning as the woman spoke, the words clear as day to him. He could feel himself getting pulled, the knees dropping as his mouth went slack all at once. His confusion clearly painted across his features as the woman spoke.

“That right there.”

Her hand moved suddenly, her finger pointed to the square of fluff laid out beside him. But her eyes remained on him.

“It’s a blanket. The humans use them to keep warm. It goes around your shoulders. Or over your legs…..”

Ridley was still reeling, but his fingers moved, reaching out for the square in almost a trance with the woman in front of him. Pulling the cold bundle over his bare legs, but he didn’t dare break eye contact. Not with this woman. Not to the only one he could understand.

“What is your name, Nekmit?”

The familiar endearment struck him odd, and only fascinated him further. He was almost afraid to answer her, afraid that the woman would turn away if she got what she wanted, but she wore a smile, one that almost seemed genuine. She seemed to care for the small boy in the cage and he couldn't deny her what she wanted, not when she used that voice so heavenly sweet to call to him.

“It’s Ridley. Ridley Langdon.”

“OH! You’re a Langdon son. It explains a lot about your stubborn nature you seem to harbor.”

There was a small chuckle in her voice as she spoke to him, her fingers coming up to brush against her lips. It took a second but finally the woman sat, her bottom hitting the floor with a small thump.

“You know the rules that are set underneath? They are set for a reason my dear, Ridley. Why would you get so close to the humans?”

“.....Who are you?”

He couldn’t help it, now when the woman, Arber Dhouti spoke to him so calmly, so fluently. Her eyes kind and her tone even kinder. Though she wasn’t the one she was hoping for he took the company with ride, through the confusion was beginning to become somewhat of a problem as she shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s best if we move on from this subject, Ridley. Just know, my name is Arber. I’m here to help you. No one else is going to hurt you. It is something i can promise.”

“Are you going to let me go?”

“......No. unfortunately. The rules are setting you in dangerous ways if you go back. Me and you both know that. We are finding other methods of… release. Somewhat. But the ocean is lost to you now, Nekmit. There is no returning.”

-------------------

Carson’s return home was loud, full of sobs and hugs and worried glanced over shoulders, his mother's and his father’s arms around him as they pulled him close, their murmurings of how they had been so scared, how they had thought they lost him to the sea whispering over his hearing. His mother had refused to let him go, and his father brushed tears off his face with the back of his expensive suit, Ragnar practically sobbing for forgiveness at almost killing him. It had taken a while, that was sure, to soothe them all, to tell them he was just tired and achy from his tumble in the underwater rivers, that he just wanted to rest. His mother insisted he sleep with her that night, had insisted he share the bed with his parents like he was four again and scared of the dark.

But it soothed her, and If His mom was happy he wouldn’t have to hear it from his dad.

They hovered over him, watching him like he might fall right back into the ocean, but Carson did not care, could not really find it in him to be bothered by such things. As it was, His mind had been consumed, absolutely enthralled with finding each and every bit of information he could on Mermaids.

Days had passed since he had least seen Echo, days that had seen Carson pouring over books to glean even the slightest bit of information, and night spent staring at the moon as he listened to the waves just outside his home, listening as his dad rambled about the biggest scandal to hit their town since his father had chosen to marry his mother. He listened to the waves, the birds as they called, and he remembered the little look of shock as he grabbed his hand and the way he had seemed to carefree, the cute little smile that was not really a smile at all. Days had passed, but Carson found he could not get the beautiful man out of his head, could not stop longing for his voice to drift up with the waves below him, and night where he should have been sleeping were spent hoping, wishing …. And remembering.

His mother had told him so many stories when he was young, and never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would become so enthralled by something as fanciful as Mermaids, But as it was, it seemed the fates had other plans for him, as not even an hour after his return home, his father received an important call. He could remember his dad trying to brush it off, but in the end, he had been forced to leave and see to the matter, something that, at the time, Carson had thought nothing of.

His father was a busy man, someone looked up to, a man people told first without pause. He ran this city, this town, this state, and nothing happened without his say so, especially not here in their pleasant little mountain beach home.

But when he returned home, his father seemed…. Spooked, shook like he had seen the depths of hell and the creatures that dwelled there. It had taken some persuading, but eh had finally got it out of him.

Some fishermen had found something. Something unexplainable.

Carson, later that night, met the second Mermaid he had ever seen in his life.

It wasn’t Echo. There was a shock as he took in the man behind the bars, the man much smaller than the blond he had seen but barring a very close resemblance to him. Carson hadn’t expected the fates to deliver Echo back to him so easily, if at all, but it had been… a spark of hope, a gleam of a wish. It was crushed as he took him in, but he still watched him with interest, his one way to possibly know more about Echo if he could just get him alone.

There was only so much that Carson would do in one day. He was ushered out before he could even talk to him.

Thus why he was so excited for this morning.

Today, He got to see the mermaid again.

He wasn’t paying attention as he was walking. That much was obvious as he was taken by surprise, grabbed roughly and suddenly. He was on his way to his bike when he was stopped, the feeling of a hand on his bicep making him jump as he blinked, his body being slammed against the wall as a very frustrated looking Lochlan glared up at him with a snarl on his lips. Carson blinked, breathing in as Lochlan stared at him, waiting for him to get on with what eh wanted.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Take me with you.”

The words were clipped, short, hurried and irritated. Knowing that no one was supposed to know about it, Carson pulled a face of ignorance, blinking as he tilted his head to the side.

“What?”

“Don’t play DUMB, Carson, the boy, the one that I pulled up from out of the ocean, and left to be poked and prodded by the scientists. The mermaid. Take. Me. to. Him.”

The words hit him oddly, a low soft sound of anger drifting over him as he took in the unhinging man. Normally, Carson would say no, laugh at him, but something in him make him reconsider. Maybe it was the way Lochlan looked so distressed, the usually calm boy frustrated beyond all belief. Lochlan was kind, soft, the sweet summer child kind of boy to Carson’s jagged winters. It must be important to him to demand it in this way.

“You pulled him up? Where? How, what did he say?” the question flew past his lips as he raced to get his car keys, practically running to the car, only matched by Lochlan’s pace. They rode together conversation flowing as he asked questions, though the answers only made him more curious.

No one could understand this boy, but with Echo he could perfectly understand him. Echo spoke fluent English, not a sign of a foreigner's tongue on the words. Why could this one not?

“I have to see him again. I fucked up, Car. I shouldn’t have kept him on that boat.”

Carson’s gaze glided over to the man sitting before him, snapping back to the building that was just starting to loom.

“You did the right thing. This is an important discovery.” The words were empty, repeated from his father’s advisors. Lochlan didn’t look at him, looking out of the window as they drove into the garage to park, descended into darkness as he finally spoke up.

“Could you have done it? If You had seen him?”

Instantly, Echo’s face popped up, fresh, vivid in his mind.His smile, the look of shock…. And then the boy’s dead expression as he had seen him last. Could have seen that face on Echo and the knowledge he had done it to him, could he have lived with that?

Carson had no answer for that.

---------------------

Lochlan wasn’t used to this sort of establishment, did not belong here, and it showed the instant that he walked through those doors.

There wasn’t many people around, only a secretary at the front desk that paled as she saw Carson walk in, her hands crinkling the paper she held as she watched the darkling moved. Lochlan could admit, even as his friend and a close one at that, that Carson was an intimidating sort of guy, the kind that seemed to have a switch in him that went off at the slightest bit of inclination that he might be underestimated. There was something about him, something in him that radiated leadership and demanded respect, made you want to follow his commands, a fear engraved in you even though he had never so much as rose his voice in your presence. You listened to him. And it only helped that his dad was practically the king of their little town, it’s inhabitants following him blindly, without protest.

Such devotion to his father had bled to his son, and Even now, Carson walked like he owned the building, breezing past the secretary without so much as even a glance, the juxtaposition between his awkward wave, stumble over his own two feet and nearly silently ‘Sorry’ more blaring than a siren.

Carson seemed like he was born for this, Born to get and do what he wanted, when he wanted, for no other reason other then he wanted it.Meanwhile, Lochlan had to hope he got lucky and someone took pity on him, or he had to work his fingers to the bone to get a suitable substitute.

Not this time.

The thought was harsh, glaring against the usual nerves that flooded his mind when he was in places like this, Expensive and rich and clearly not made for a fisherman to walk through it’s halls. He gave Carson Credit, taking him here with only the smallest of explanation, but as he delved deeper into the twists and turns of the labyrinth that called itself a lab, Lochlan couldn’t help but feel like maybe he had made a mistake in rushing over to the Dhouti household, had been rash in his instance that Carson took him with him. He didn’t belong here, he didn’t belong in this place. What would he even say to him when he saw him, considering he couldn’t understand him and he couldn’t tell him how sorry he was he had gotten him into this mess. Lochlan knew it was rash, it was irrational that he had stormed here, But the memory of his face, that expression over his features as the pulled him from his hands….

It haunted him, and Lochlan had this need, this urge, to see him again, To fix something beyond his reach...

But now that it was in front of him, what was he supposed to fucking do? What could he do?

Lochlan could only guess.

The doors opened before him, a bright light stinging his eyes as they stepped from the dimmer hallways and into the darker room, light spilling from what Lochlan could only assume was a one way window into the cell that they had placed the boy in. Dark brown eyes narrowed as he lifted his hand, the sound of a sudden gasp slipping past Carson making his gaze snap from the overly bright window to the figure leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glare locked on the window like it had personally insulted him.

“Dad!”

If Lochlan had thought Carson was intimidating, Soven Dhouti was absolutely terrifying. He was the exact picture of what he assumed a senator to be, the exact image that his mind created when he thought of the world leader. Soven was more than just a Senator, he practically ran this town, the owner of multiple companies and the father of one of his best friends. More often than not, you would find him in suits, hair slicked back or hidden away, clean cut and absolutely lethal. Now, however, it seemed he couldn’t have been bothered with appearance, clad in his white t-shirt and a pair of ragged jeans and boots. He would have looked like he belonged on the cover of some sort of fan service magazine for women if it wasn’t for the very palpable anger that was radiating off of him in heated waves.

Lochlan fell behind as Carson smiled, walking up to the imposing man.

Carson seemed to have a birth defect that made him lose his sense of fear and self preservation.The man stood at 6’7, towering over most, a trait he had given to his sons in spades, which only added to the imposing air he already had.. He was blond, platinum blond falling over his eyes as he glared, his eyes narrowing as Carson walked in, speckled blue green and brown drifting over to his black haired son, the look on his face softening immensely before he looked back again at the sight in the cell, his stance never moving.

“What’s going on?” Carson never sounded more like a child then when he was talking to his parents, all curious tones and absolute trust. Soven sighed, dropping his hands to his side before lifting them in what could only be described as irritated acceptance.

“Your Mother wanted to talk to him, and she wouldn’t let it go. I tried talking her out of it, but she’s hard headed, like someone else I know.” Lochlan watched, amazed as Soven smiled and teased his son, pulling on his cheeks and earning a laugh from his friend. The blond man watched him with adoration, before his gaze hardened again.

“You were told not to come back here, Carson, why are you here? More importantly….” He tried off, and for the first time since he entered, Soven’s eyes flashed over to Lochlan. The man swallowed thickly, brown eyes locked on speckled blue, a shot of fear rippling over his spine.

“What are you doing here?”

Carson moved, laughing as he placed himself between them. He opened his mouth to say something, but something in Lochlan made him move, his hand falling to the Darkling’s shoulder as his own stare hardened.

“I want to see him. The mermaid. I was the one who pulled him out, I was the one held him during the storm and I was the one who made sure nothing happened to him. I’m not being left in the dark.”

Soven didn’t say anything for a moment, and it felt like an eternity had passed before he sighed, once again lifting his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Go on then. I guess i’m just surrounded by Hard headed people. You will be required to sign a silence waver. You’re not allowed to talk about anything you hear or see in this building, Do you understand?”

Lochlan understood. You didn’t cross a Dhouti without serious consequences.

Lochlan moved, ignoring the mummers behind him in favor of the small little chips that were filtering through the door that led into the cell. Lochlan paused, his eyes on the door as he breathed in, now or never, sink or swim and god he felt like he was drowning.

Just see him again… we’ll start from there.

------------

Days. Four to be exact.

Four days of nothing but excruciating madness as the Langdons seemed to fall into what could only be called a madness. His father switched between anger and suffering, his mother inconsolable, the only solace she had was found in his father's arms.

The story was repeated. And recited to every Langdon, their interrogation of the smaller Delarosa was intense, their question bombarding, and relentless. Even Echo found himself tearing into the obviously frightened and worried boy. His words were starting to break, his spirit obviously deteriorating quickly as Scythe began for the thirtieth time to question Ethan. Blue eyes locked on cognac ones, ones that were filled with something between rage and desperation.

It was a long process, a process that Echo knew would lead them nowhere if they didn’t actually do anything. Not that the laws allowed them to do anything about the situation. On the contrary, if he was going to stand by their laws, Ridley was gone to them. His youngest brother was gone and by the laws would remain that way, even if he returned, he would have been an outcast, or worse, killed off.

Relations with any human was strictly forbidden. A law that was not taken lightly down here. A law that was taken to the fullest extent went presented, there were no warnings, there were no second chances. No matter the age. You were gone, nothing other than a traitor to their kind.

But still the days passed, a blur of emotions riddling through him until he had made that final decision. The one he knew could end his life, the one that he knew that the others had been having whispers of. But… They did not all have to suffer the same fate as what he knew making this decision would force him to face. The same fate that Ridley had been forced into.

But it wasn’t Ridleys fault he was caught, he was tangled into the net. From what Ethan had described he had fought against the ropes, he had tried to get out to free himself from the fate that he inevitably knew would befall him if he didn’t. And still. He had lost. And Echo could feel his heart wrenching, trying to tear from him as he thought about the fear that must have been wracking his brother. He could feel the frown pulling at his lips as the images raced behind his eyes.

But he was soft, his words coming out smoothly as tanned fingers pressed the bridge of his nose. His other hand clenched onto the smaller boy's shoulder, trying to force him into place so he could speak to him.

“Tell me again, Ethan. Tell me what happened out there. I need to know before i head out.”

He had to give Ethan some kind of credit, he stood tall, something most didn’t expect out of him. The boy was fragile looking, small and almost dainty in his movements, but he knew how to carry himself, knew how to act when it came down to it. And it came as no real shock when Ethan bucked up, his chest puffing out just that bit.

“I’ll just show you myself, we can get him back together.”

He was stern his voice, much like Echo’s came out softly, almost tentative but still he let those eyes fall on Echo own. Stern in his motion to accompany him. Ethan Delarosa let his hands clench into small fist. He knew what it meant to get caught, he knew what it meant just to go look for Ridley.

And here he was, still prepared for whatever the outcome may be.

“That makes sense. You did lose him.”

He chuckled half heartedly, his finger releasing the bys shoulder just to slap against his skin one good time.

--------------

“Wait…. What, what do you mean i can’t return?”

“If i allowed you return to Hydsa, if i said you could leave and not have to worry about any of us coming after you, where would you go? To your family? To the kingdom that you know would label you a traitor and willingly feed you to the shark?”

Ridley sunk back, his back hitting the cold concrete of the wall with a small thump, his head smacking right after that. He lifted his eyes to the ceilings, looking but not really seeing. She was right, where would he go, what would he do with himself once he got back, the questions would pile in. Every official would be sure to drag out the truth from him. If Ethan did not already tell them himself.

It was his fault. His fault for taking Ethan out so far into the human territories. Luckily though, it was only him paying the consequences. It was only him that was crammed into a hollow husk of a cage, and not with Ethan along his side. Stuck in the same predicament, with nowhere to run.

Arber shifted on the floor, her eyes trying hesitant but watchful. Her fingers rested easy against her knees, her black hair fell over her shoulders in waves as she watched. She was trying to be helpful, but she was human. She cold possibly make the damage worse. She could take his trust and twist games around the people holding him captive. He was always told that the humans were evil, always felt the itch of fear when the stories of them were told.

And from his experience with them thus far, he could truly state that they were just as horrible as he thought they were gonna be. She spoke softly as if she was speaking to an injured animal, her tone much too calm for a woman he knew was probably the reason he was actually here.

“I’m not here to scare you, Ridley. I want to help, but yo have to trust me. If even just a little bit.”

“How do you know my lan-”

There was a creak of hinges, the aluminum door swinging open to reveal the same man who had wandered across his thoughts once or twice since being in the confinement. Ridley watched with curious eyes as the darkling in front of him turned her head, shifting that smile to the brown and blonde haired boy that passed behind the door. One of her hands flung out in welcome to the much taller boy, her other coming down to rub against the floor that she was sitting on.

Brown eyes flickered to Ridleys and he couldn’t hold them, turning her head to shift his eyes back to Arber. There was a flare of temper whipping at his mind, forcing his eyebrows down as he looked away from the man. Irritation bloomed in his chest, but only if because it was the very man that had him confused. Forcing him to this and then soothing him through his way to this hell.

Ridley could see the hesitation that was littered in the man’s expression, painting across his body as he strode closer.

“Ah, Lochlan, here my love, come sit next to me. I’ll introduce you to Ridley.”

---------------------------

He watched him, Watched his long time friend slip into the cell, the old wooden door shutting quietly behind him with a soft click that resonated through the silence that had followed Lochlan’s declaration. He could see him still, Lochlan’s Brown and blond hair falling down his back, little braids and hair mattes that laziness refused to brush out, long strands spilling over his shoulders as he spoke, the words muffled by still slightly audible. He moved slightly, moving to place himself next to his mother, and Carson found himself wondering how of all people, the one to have pulled the scandal straight from the sea itself was his own Lochan, his sweet summer child, the boy too kind hearted for his own good and just about the last person who needed to have the weight of guilt slowing him down.

But fate had never been kind, and so it was with a heavy mantle about his shoulders Lochlan tried to make things right.

“Why did you come here, Carson?” His father’s voice asked, and Carson turned, duel colored gaze flicking back to his father's.

What was he supposed to tell him?

Carson hadn’t spoken a word about that day, the day he almost drowned and echo had saved him from an almost certain death. It wasn’t from a lack of being on his mind, mind you, as it had been on his mind frequently. Carson couldn’t tell you the number of times he had thought about it, about the merman that had stolen his thoughts with that red brown gaze and the quick quirk of his lips, could not tell you the number of hours he had spent in his bed staring at the window as he heard that ocean's lullaby, wondering about a creature long since thought fantasy, if maybe he didn’t dream it, imagined it….

But fantasies don’t hold him, and they don’t fix near lethal wounds.

Carson had wanted to tell his family… Hell, the moment he got back, Carson had wanted to tell them about the man who had saved him, about the Mermaid named Echo who had saved him, healed him and swam off, the only reason he still breathed today. He wanted to tell them what happened, but as soon as he had made to, his father’s phone had started going off, calling him into work. His mother had been angry at the phone, and his dad had put it off for as long as he could before he left, and really, as strange as it sounds, Carson felt fine after nearly dying. He was thirsty, tired, hungry, but his body only ached from fatigue, his headache gone and there was a fire in his chest that spurred him into the library.

Carson never got to tell his story, and now, with how this one was being treated, and seeing the regret in Lochlan’s frame…. Carson wasn’t sure he wanted to. If this was how they treated one, he didn’t want to see Echo like that. He didn’t know him, didn’t know anything on him other then he saved his life and had vanished just as quickly as he had come tumbling into his life, but Carson could already tell you that he didn’t want to see him look so…. Lost.

So Carson did something he had never done before.

He lied to his father

“I was just curious, Dad. You know my thing for the ocean and to see that Mermaids actually exist? It’s fascinating. I just… want to know more.”

“... I don’t know how much he would be able to give you, considering he doesn’t speak our language.”

Carson let out a slow breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. His father accepted his lie easily, and any guilt was overshadowed by relief that there was no one out looking for Echo.

“But Mom speaks thiers.”

It was something that had been bothering him, something that had struck him as strangely and inherently odd. His mind raced with questions, his head tilting as he listened, catching small clicks and grunts that somehow almost formed words, occasionally a word jumping out of him to his tounge.

“That’s-”

“Hey, Carson.”

The sound of another voice stomped out any words his father might have said, any answers he could have gotten. Carson sighed as he turned to ebbe, his friend glaring at him with storms in his eyes. Ebbe tilted his head, long red hair falling over his shoulder, before he jerked his head toward the Exit, his arms in his jacket pockets.

“The boat is heading back out to that spot again.”

The words took a moment to register, clipped and short with jagged glass in the tones. Ebbe was a hard boy to get to know, not saying much and instead choosing to stare and ignore most of everyone, and when he did talk, more often than not what he said was something insulting, grade A asshole material. Most people chose not to look past that, but Carson knew better, knew Ebbe since he was in middle school. Carson had asked him to keep him updated on when he would be returning out, had told him to tell him if anything else strange had happened or been seen.

Carson nodded, a smile crossing his lips before his dad spoke.

“Can anyone Just… walk up in here? Like how is it that three nineteen year olds just found their way into a supposedly guarded laboratory. Was anyone even up there, anyone at all?”

“No.”

“Oh. Of course. No one to guard the lab with the mermaid in it. Yeah. Okay. that makes total sense.”

Carson watched his father’s brow twitch, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing as he shook his head. Carson wanted to laugh, holding in a chuckle from building in his throat. Ebbe only stared, seemingly uncaring about the obvious distress of the older man, instead turning to look back at Carson.

“Let’s go then. Up that security, Papa Dhouti.”

Ebbe turned on heel, walking back down the hallway. Carson turned, casting a look to the boy who looked so similar to the Mermaid he wanted to see, before he turned away and started out the door.

“Wait! Carson! You Just almost Drowned, I don’t want you to-”

“I’ll be fine Dad, I feel fine. Nothing hurts or anything. I’ll be super careful. Okay, Love you too, bye!”

Carson left him gaping, heard his Dad’s frustrated growl, but he was already following after Ebbe, running to catch up to him. Ebbe said nothing as they walked through the building, but Carson hadn’t expected any different from him, considering he wasn’t the most talkative guy.

“When do we leave?”

“As soon as we get there.”

Carson smiled.

“Then we’ll take my car.”

---------------------------

Ridley. His name was Ridley.

Somehow that knowledge made everything more real. Lochlan hadn’t had a name before, didn’t have a name for the face that had haunted his dreams. He didn’t think he would ever be able to know his name, didn’t think he would ever really get to know him, and suddenly he had a name to place with him, and it was like everything shifted right into place.

His name was Ridley. Lochlan had fucked over a mermaid named Ridley.

It seemed so much more real with a name for the mermaid, like it was cemented now in facts and not in his head. He couldn’t deny thinking it was possible he imagined it all, that he would wake up and go to work and everyone would laugh at him if he brought up fantasies like capturing a mermaid. He had thought it would be all one extended dream, but the problem with that was that the thoughts of his face, memories of seeing him hurt and scared and alone made his chest hurt and his gut wrench kept him up until morning's early hours, plaguing him enough to create dark shadows under his eyes. It was more blatant now, apparent, and Lochlan bit his lip out of nervousness, tongue playing with the silver of his piercings.

Lochlan moved, taking another step forward to take the seat next to the woman he had come to call Momma Dhouti. He had only known her since freshman year of highschool, but over the years, Mrs. Dhouti had become something like a second mother to him, her entire being warm and inviting and alluring, every inch of her the super mom that she seemed to be known for. It was comforting to see her here, comforting to know that she was here taking care of the boy he was worrying about constantly. She would make sure he's okay, heal any wounds and soothe him, like she did for her sons and their friends, for Him and Ebbe and Ender. If anyone would make sure the mermaid, Ridley, was okay, it would be her. He settled easily next to her, crossing his legs to let his hands rest on his knees, nerves kicking up again, though there was a slight hesitance to all his movements, his gaze flickering over to Ridley as he drew in a breath.

“How’d you find out his name? He speaks a language I’ve never heard before.”

Lochlan flicked his gaze back to Mrs. Dhouti, his stare curious and confused, but ultimately just returned to the smaller boy, taking in the luminescent scales over his cheeks and face, the bright stare of his eyes as he stared back. He offered him a hesitant smile, a little wave before he dropped his hand..

“If he doesn’t want me here, I’d understand.”

----------------------------

It had been hours, or at least what felt like hours of continuous swimming, the area just off the shore of the ocean a lot further away than he originally remembered. First to look was Ethan, his body dipping down to nodded almost excitedly towards him. The boat was only spotted after a single search above the water, Their floodlights must have been blinding up close, because even from thirty feet away he could feel the sting just behind his eyes.

But the waters here were dark, more seaweed dense. So he could see why they would be trying to see into the waters, if only to catch another glimpse at one of the ‘elusive’ mermaids. And they would if Echo had anything else to say about it.Water droplets spray against his skin as he moved just above the surface his eyes on the boat, inspecting for a minute, before dipping again where Ethan stared at him with hopeful eyes.

“Could you throw those guppy eyes somewhere else? God man.”

Storms were already rolling, roaring above the edges surface, cooling the waters as it weathered on. It did nothing to deter Echo Langdon. Rather encouraged, pushed the boy closer until he was within feet of the nets that the humans so haphazardly threw out of their boats. But what all could he really say, it's not as if the Humans really knew what laid beneath the surface of the waters.

“Is that the one though?”

“Yea! That’s literally the same exact boat.”

“Okay, okay dude. Don’t cream yourself, we still gotta get to Ridley.”

Echo smiled, his hand reaching out to push Ethan slightly, but he could feel his own excitement building up in his chest, could feel the hope that had already deep rooted itself in his heart. This was probably the most excited he had felt in a while, but he refused to let relief hit until he had Ridley back safe in Hydsa with him.

“Okay, so what do we do now?”

“No, no sir. Noper dope. I’m not the only one that gonna sit here and figure things out Ethan. I’m not the smart one of this group thing we all got going on here.”

He could almost hear the boy roll his eyes as he swam closer to the ropes himself, fingers skimming over the thick tufts of net. But Echo was right behind him, his hands shaking as he watched Ethan move fluidly through the ropes, yanking on various ones.

“I mean, one of us can get caught, distract them to the front... Other gets on the ship…. boat ,.... I really don't know the difference. I just thin-”

“Ok, i’m gonna stop you there, your plan is flawed. And borderline stupid…. It's just stupid.”

“Then what do you suggest, Echo?”

“Waiting, at least until they get to shore, we can see where they took him at first at least.”

-------------------

It was strange. Most people would be uneasy with the thought of returning to sea so quickly after they had almost drowned, but as the boat rocked and they moved away from the harbor, Carson found that eh felt more at home then when his feet touch dry solid, mostly still land. He knew his father worried, but his love of the Ocean had not stemmed simply from his mom, his father happiest when you saw him on the waves, be it on a boat, a board or neck deep. Carson lived for the ocean, the sea and it’s waves, and it had been his careless mistake that had caused him his misfortunate near death.

It was a mistake he did not plan on making again.

The boat rocked, waves still high from last night storm, dark circling clouds telling that nature was not quite done with them yet, the ocean’s spray ghosting over his skin as he looked out toward the horizon. There was nothing but ocean, so much calmer than last night's waves,but still able to rock the boat enough to make him grab hold of the railing again, fingers practically white with ice and force. Ebbe was a few feet away from him, grabbing hold of the rail as he looked out to see, grey eyes moving to search over the water like he would find the exact point that they had pulled the mermaid out of the water. They were close, if the murmurings of half drives as he held onto a hope that was slowly beginning to fade and Carson could not help but feel… disappointed.

It wasn’t like he has expected to see Echo swimming between the white crests of waves, he didn’t expect to really see him out here, but there had been a glimmer of hope that maybe he would see him, or even another Mermaid again. Besides his obvious biases fascination, Carson had always been interested in the sea and it's creatures, had always liked reading and learning about the living beings under the oceans glassy top, and to know that one of his favorite mythical beast were real, living beings he could see and touch and hear…. It was like he was five again and believing in magic and fairy tales. He felt light and giddy, childish in a sense as he hoped to catch a glimpse of one, but ultimately stared at nothing but blue waters and grey skies.

Reality sunk in harsh, shattering the childlike hope, and Carson, for the first time since his obsession had been rekindled by the appearance of mermaids in his life, Carson was reminded that it was a more than likely chance that He would never see Echo again. The ocean was vast, and she was deep, and Echo was far beyond his reach now, far beyond any place he could ever follow.

Carson breathed out a low, slow breath.

Maybe Fairy tales are true, but life was still unfair.

“ALl RIGHT, FU- BOYS! TIME TO SETTLE IN FOR THE NIGHT!”

Captain Jackman’s words were stilted, jerky and twisted, almost foreign on his tongue as he awkwardly tried to cover the curse he almost said with another word, The son of his boss on board and not looking the least bit amused as he turned around, dual colored gaze locked on him with a dull expression. They were stopping for the night, and Carson just watched them idly as they set up anchor, throwing out the automatic nets for the night, sticking close to Ebbe but far enough that he wasn’t in the way.

Really, Carson just wanted to go home… The acceptance had cost him a lot of enthusiasm about this trip, and eh wasn’t so keen to spend the night on a ship with a bunch of old men who were trying to act friendly because he was Soven Dhouti’s son and didn’t want him talking bad about them when he returned home, treating him like a child who they could not curse around for fear he would run back to daddy dearest and tattle. Carson Rolled his eyes, passing time by star gazing on the very back edge of the highest point of the boat, high up and away from the sounds of the men under the deck who were laughing a joking with each other.

“Fucking hell Carson. You could be in bed, but nooo…. You had to chase a cute mermaid halfway around the ocean because you don’t know how to casually do anything, do you? Fucking idiot.”

Carson berated himself, his eyes on the stars above him, the flashing little lights so much more apparent here than from his bedroom window. One hand rested under his head to cradle his head and the other resting over his stomach, and he stared up at the sky, sitting up only to look at the light of the moon glimmering off the ocean waves.

#mermay #mermay2018 #mermaid #Mermaid au #Still Waters : MerMerAU #Repost #UltimaWrites #XellWrites #renekostudios

28 notes · View notes