#being trapped

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Chapter 22: Bring you scathe, or bring you grace

It was another bitterly cold morning, cold enough that the fog had frozen into tiny shards of ice that stung the skin even more than usual, but the mere presence of fog meant it was likely to warm up later—probably not into the teens, if Tim was any judge, but at least warm enough to melt the ice. The roller coaster of temperatures that characterized a London March seemed particularly out of control this year, and Tim was just thankful it wasn’t snowing.

It was almost, but not quite, enough to make him miss California.

Rowlf, of course, was completely unbothered, and was taking his sweet time finding a place to do his business. Tim didn’t mind—much—since he’d done his share of hiking in the mountains during the colder months, but he did have to get to work at some point, so eventually they were going to have to go back in. He particularly wanted to get out early today, even though he didn’t expect he’d be in the office any sooner than usual.

Oh, thank Christ, Rowlf finally squatted down in a patch of grass that looked no different from all the other ones he’d rejected on his way here. Tim praised him, gave him a piece of chicken as a treat, and scooped up his offering before clucking to him and getting him moving again. They jogged around the block to get some of the energy out, then returned home. As usual, Rowlf made a beeline for his water dish as soon as Tim unclipped his lead; Tim checked his watch, mentally calculated how long he had before he needed to leave, and hung up his coat as well before following him into the kitchen.

can i knock you unconscious as long as i promise i’ll love you and i’ll make you laugh

amanda palmer, trout heart replica // pafl, dima and yura

Henry knew about the portrait being cursed and about Jaques being trapped inside, and he was going to get the man out.

Once Henry got back to Earth, he got the portrait to his apartment, setting it next to the Tunisian Diamond he still hadn't given back after all these years.

Henry then opened his curtains and the sun beamed into the diamond, and the beams from the diamond hitting the portrait.

At first nothing happened, but then the portrait frame shook before shattering, with Jaques tumbling out of where once the portrait was.

Jaques was confused at first on if he was really free, but Henry showed Jaques the destroyed picture frame, causing the man to hug Henry so tightly in joy.

---

Henry let Jaques take the diamond with him, with Jaques wanting to see how the world has changed and see if any of his friends could possibly be alive.

"Are you ever going to help me?"

"Nope."

"Is this because-"

"Of your terrible birthday present? Yyup."

"...you do realise we are trapped right? That things are actually serious?"

A Tiny Mer Patton and human scientist Logan one shot, cause why not? quarantine is really leading to an uptick in my writing.

He ached. It hurt all over, he hurt all over. He gasped for every breath, his gills flaring with each one, and his eyes burned with tears. 

 The wire mesh netting bit into his skin, into his scales, tangled around him so tightly there was no chance of wriggling out.  

 The cold, salty air stung against the slowly bleeding cuts where the metal bit into his flesh, but that wasn’t the worst of it. 

 The worst was the agony pulsing through his tail as the wind and the air slowly dried it out. Every scale was aflame with white hot pain sending spots dancing across his vision. 

 Ocean, he had to, had to, get back to the water. He tried to move, to blindly propel himself closer to the tide line with his tail, but the effort left him dizzy and nearly unconscious. 

 He realized he could hear the alarm call common among his kind, the high, unwavering note no human could manage, warning of danger. Calling for help. 

 He was too far gone to realize he was the one calling. He didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. He barely felt himself being picked up, flailing weakly at the hands on him. But he didn’t have the strength left to struggle.  

 Then he felt the cool, endless, relief of water, water on his tail, water surrounding him. He let out a soft sob of relief as the burning ache began to fade, the last string tying him to consciousness snapping. 

   He shoots awake. Pain is ripping through his tail, and he gasps, trying to find the air to sing, but another stab of pain through his arm leaves him whimpering instead. He manages to open his eyes and regrets it immediately. 

 Towering over him is a human. Its hands are pressing him down, and he flinches as he sees the shine of a knife. He manages a low trill of distress, of please don’t hurt me, but he doesn’t have the strength to make it a command, and his singing has never been strong enough to entrap a human, anyways. The human's eyes seem to gleam in the light and before the knife comes down, he faints. 

  He wakes slowly. Water. He’s in saltwater. He is floating in kelp, tangled around it in his usual sleeping position. He looks down, happiness blooming in his chest. The wire netting is gone, he can move freely. The pattern of it is still traced into his skin in red lines, across his tail, but they barely ache, now. 

 And his scales… his vibrant, sky blue, silvery scales, are wet and bright and not dried out. He lets out a little giggle of amazement, swishing his tail in the water. Without a second thought, he shoots through the water like a rocket. 

 And crashes painfully against some invisible barrier. His heart sinks and the amazement of moments before turns bitter and sour in his mouth. 

 No no no no no.   

 He flips around, zooming through the water, letting out a hiss of pain as he slams into another barrier. He rockets through the water, pinging off of glass at every turn, until his shoulders are bruised purple from his efforts. 

 With a sob, he sinks down to the bottom of this prison. His tail is curled under him, and his arms are wrapped around himself as he doubles over from the sorrow. 

 He’ll never see the ocean again. He'll never swim freely again. Never play with the baby turtles, snuggle with the otters, see the endless, impossible blue of the sky meeting the sea again. 

 He knows this. Humans are greedy, curious creatures. He is something new, something rare, and they will never let him go. He will waste away in this cage. He will die here and Virgil- 

 He breaks, letting out a choking, keening elegy because he will never see Virgil again, never feel the much larger mer's gentle hands cradling him to sleep, never hear his sarcastic wit or soft concern and Virgil will never know where he has gone. Will think him dead. He has lost everything. Because of his own carelessness, he has lost everything.

 He startles as he hears something. Looking up, be realizes he can see through the barriers, into a room. 

 There’s a bed, a desk, a large bookshelf. Papers are scattered across the desk. He shudders as he sees a few detailed drawings of himself. He will be studied, then, a specimen, an experiment. 

 Then there are large green eyes staring at him. Quickly, he darts away, finding a hiding place among the rocks, out of sight. His heart is pounding and his hands are shaking and he is afraid, afraid, afraid. 

 “Logan Croft, observation record, day 2. The" a sigh “merperson has awoken. It hid as soon as I entered. It appears to have recovered from the injuries, and based on the speed of movement and fluidity, its tail has suffered no permanent damage. I have replicated what I have deduced to be its natural environment, based on its visible traits. It appeared afraid, not unexpected. I will attempt to feed it later and will continue to record any behavioral observations.” He hears a sigh. Peeking out from behind the rocks, he sees the human, Logan, leaning back in his desk chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

 He hides again before the human can look his way. He is going to stay as hidden as possible. Maybe if he isn’t interesting, the human will give up on studying him and let him go. It’s so little, too little, but it’s something to cling to.

 “Observation day 3, little change in the creature’s attitude. It is still hiding, and appears to sleep wrapped in kelp, so it doesn’t float away.”

 He remembers the first time Virgil swam into his kelp forest. The larger mer had woken him from a dead sleep, it had scared him silly, with his size and sharp teeth. But Virgil had been just as shocked as he was, had backed off immediately, cooing at him soothingly in an apology. Neither could remember the last time they’d seen another mer, and after they’d both calmed down, spent the day talking.

 Later, Virgil told him he ate fish that he caught, would never have even thought of attacking another mer. They’d laughed as Virgil told him just how startled he was, almost more scared of him than he’d been of Virgil, so afraid of breaking something so small and delicate. Virgil was always exceedingly gentle, took him swimming with dolphins, or whales, when they were in the area, dove deeper than he could ever manage on his own, showed him so many new and wonderful things. He wonders what Virgil is doing now.

 “Observation day 4, despite my attempts at discovering the creature’s food preferences, it has not consumed any of the sustenance I have provided for it.”

 He is hungry, but he will not eat. He doesn’t want to give the human any new information, anything to use against him, or other mers. He won’t give away anything he can’t help, he won’t expose Virgil to this, he has already suffered enough.

 He remembers the day Virgil told him where the long scar across his side came from, Virgil had been young, but he remembered that. Whalers, he’d said. He’d been with his family, but had heard the ship coming. They were aiming at a mother and her calf. He tried to save them, get them away, and he did, but the harpoon struck him instead. He must have drifted after that, because he didn’t remember much of the next week or so, by the time he had gained awareness back he was in unfamiliar waters, with no idea which way was home. He hadn’t seen any of his family since. Hadn’t seen any other mers since, either. No wonder Virgil had been so shocked to come across him in the kelp, he must have seemed to be an illusion at first. He wonders how long until Virgil forgets him, too.

 “Observation day five, the specimen has been uncharacteristically visible today. It is floating listlessly, seemingly uncaring if I observe. It is usually quite skittish, but now even tapping on the glass elicits no reaction.

 He doesn’t care anymore. What’s the point, of hiding? The human can look all he wants, he won’t be learning anything. Usually, he eats nearly his weight in seaweed and kelp a day, but he hasn’t eaten since before he was put in here. The hunger pangs seem long removed, and everything feels fuzzy. It’s pleasant, it’s like forgetting. If he closes his eyes, he forgets, can pretend he is back in open waters, can almost hear Virgil crooning softly to him. Soon he will close his eyes and not open them.

 “Observation day six, the specimen continues not to eat. It’s scales seem to be losing their luster, changing slowly from a bright blue to a dark dimming gray. Possibly these creatures are unable to survive in captivity, similar to how many species of whale are for unknown reasons unable to be raised by humans.”

  “Hey little minnow. What’s splashing?” He giggles as Virgil appears, swimming on his back under him, so they are facing each other. Virgil is bigger than him, though almost everything is bigger than him, really. Virgil is probably ten feet long, tail included, though his purple tail flares out into strong, sensitive fins that are almost electric in hue. He himself is barely a foot long, roughly the size of Virgil’s hands placed end to end.

“Not much, big fish. How’re you swimming?” He replies, relishing the soft grin on Virgil’s face, his sharp teeth showing for a moment before his expression darkens.

 “They’re humans in the area again, Pat.” He slows his swimming, tail flicking under him as Virgil pulls up as well.

 “You worry too much, Vee.” Virgil shakes his head.

 “I’m telling you, Pat, you’ve gotta be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if you were caught.” He smiles softly, swimming over and patting his cheek.

 “I’ll keep an eye out, I promise. I’m small, anyway, you’re the one they’re more likely to spot.” Virgil smirks, almost instantly, his colors change, hues racing across his body, until he is almost invisible against the water, blending in seamlessly.

He is used to the camouflage, but even he can’t tell exactly where Virgil’s limbs are. He yelps, laughing, as he feels Virgil’s hands cupping around him, placing him on the mer’s shoulder.

 “Yeah, I don’t think it’s me you gotta worry about. You’re the curious one, minnow. That’s what I’m worried about. You go too close to their ships.” Virgil flickers into visibility again. Patton climbs into his hair, wrapping it around his tail and arms, like he would the seaweed to keep himself in place while he sleeps. He feels Virgil’s chuckle as he snuggles down deeper, enjoying the softness of his hair.

 “You comfy yet, Pat?” He chirps out a small coo of contentment, letting his noise convey exactly how comfortable he is, as Virgil starts swimming.

 “Alright, but be careful, yeah?” Virgil mumbles. Patton agrees sleepily, drifting off.

  Net. Something around him, it’s the net, it is biting into his skin, it is dragging him down, he is being tossed and turned with the tides, then air is hitting his tail and it hurts, it burns, he screams! He hears something, a muttered curse, and feels himself falling. He hits something hard, and for a moment the breath is knocked out of him, as he gasps for air.

 Hands. He feels hands around him. Not Virgil’s, they’re too dry, too rough, he wriggles, trying to get out, but they are holding him tight, too tight, he is struggling to breath. He thrashes, knowing it’s no use, knowing the human will do whatever it wants without any regard for his own feelings, knows it’s too late for him, and tears are falling down his face as his tail is scorched ice cold burning dry and he can’t, he can’t help it anymore, can’t stop it anymore, it is welling up inside him.

 “STOP! Please… please please pleasepleasepleaseplease…” And he is sobbing, because he knows it is no use, knows that now that he’s revealed this he will never be let go, and it breaks his heart all over again. “please. Please just do it, whatever you’re going to do, just… just do it and get it over with and let me DIE ALREADY!” He screams, beating his fists against the human’s too large hands, his breath gasping and short, his heart beating out of his chest as panic folds over him.

 Then his tail touches water and he sobs from relief again, before realizing that there is nowhere to go. He’s been put in a coffee mug, filled with water. There is enough room for him to curl his tail under him, his forehead is touching it, he is doubled over with sobs, from sorrow, from pain, from relief, from fear, because now he is exposed and there is nowhere to go, and he knows the human is watching him and he crumples under the weight of that gaze.

 “You… talk. You’re intelligent. You’re an intelligent species.” He hears the human whisper, hears the human thump into his chair, and he shivers, the vibration sending his heart racing. “fuck.”

 “L-language.” He stutters out, somewhat hysterically, his voice wavering, on the edge of keening again, because he just scolded a human, he is dead, he is dead beyond belief and he knows it. He hears the human’s sharp inhale, and flinches back so hard the cup wobbles. His stomach lurches as the human’s hand shoots out to steady it.

 He gathers his courage, and dares to look up. Logan is looking at him. Awe and shock and surprise and a vague horror is tracing itself across the human’s face.

 “M-my apologies. I… I appear to have made a gross error in judgement.” Logan nearly whispers, eyes distant and face pale. He is confused. He didn’t expect a human to apologize.

 “It’s… it’s ok?” He replies, not knowing how to respond, what else to say. The human shakes his head, eyes focusing back on him, those piercing greens seeing right through him.

 “It is not. I am a researcher. An ethical biologist. I study ecosystems and their wildlife. Keeping an intelligent, aware creature, such as yourself, captive, goes against all of my morals. I knew you were distressed, I just didn’t connect why. I… I should have realized…” Logan looks dazed, almost heartbroken, his gaze soft and concerned and nothing but apologetic as he looks down at him.

 His fins flip nervously and he averts his gaze. This isn’t what he expected. He doesn’t know what to do. He is talking to the human and the human is upset, because the human was hurting him without knowing.

 “Why… why didn’t you say something sooner?” He winces, even though the question is not interrogatory.

 “I-I kn-knew then you would n-never let me go. I th-thought if I st-stayed quiet and b-b-boring you might let me g-g-go home!” He is crying again, the homesickness overwhelming him. The longing, the pure, broken longing for the open sea nearly making him sick.

 “Oh. Oh dear. I… We are at a clear misunderstanding, and that is entirely my fault. I found you beached, tangled in netting. You needed medical treatment, so I brought

you back here to help, and make sure your healing progressed fully. I always intended to release you back into the wild. But then your condition began to deteriorate as you refused to eat and your scales started to gray and I was worried you had some kind of latent infection or perhaps parasites. I removed you from the tank simply to try and get a better look at your condition. Had I known you could speak and comprehend my language, I would have verbally explained all of this to you earlier, and asked your consent at every step of treatment. I… the amount of emotional distress you’ve been under, oh gods… I’ve traumatized a merman.” The human trails off with a groan, a half hysterical laugh building in the human’s throat as it buries his head in his hands. It takes him a moment, as he processes the human’s words.

           “You… you’re going to let me go?” His voice is broken, he is so afraid of this hope fluttering in his chest, terrified of it being crushed once again, knowing he won’t survive if it is.

           “Yes, gods, yes, especially now that I know you are a sentient species with just as much intelligence as humans! It would be… it would be vile to keep you held hostage, especially given the amount of pain and anxiety it obviously causes you. I would be a monster to keep you here, against your will, I have been!” He flinches at the human’s loud voice, his distress, and Logan sighs softly, lowering his head so it is resting on the edge of the desk, so they are almost at eye level.

 “I am sorry. I am so, deeply, terribly sorry, for all of this. I never… I never meant to cause you harm, physical or mental, and I know that I have. I will release you right away. It is… ten pm, perfect. The stretch of beach you were on is too rocky and dangerous for anyone to be gathered on, we can be there in ten minutes or so, I just need my jacket, and it’s high tide, so you shouldn’t have a problem swimming in, of course, and I understand you probably don’t want to look at my face ever again, of course, so I will move my studies elsewhere if that is an area you frequent-“

 “Logan!” He calls, surprising himself by using the human’s name. But it stops Logan’s rambling in its tracks, and he finds himself smiling softly, because really, Logan had only meant to help. And he was letting him go, bringing him home, despite how big a deal it would probably be for a human to have discovered merpeople. “Logan. I… it’s ok. I don’t… I don’t hate you. I’m… I’m glad it was you, that found me. Not… not very many humans would let me go, no matter how upset or sick I got from it. So… thank you. F-for being one of the few good ones.” His voice was soft, and for a moment he wondered if Logan had even been able to hear him, but when he looked up, Logan’s cheeks were an adorable shade of pink, and his green eyes were glossed over with tears. He stood slowly, and took a deep breath, clearing his throat.

 “It… is appreciated. I wish I could say otherwise on your conclusions about humans, but I fear I share your views. I wish more shared my own. And if… if you ever do want to share more about yourself, or your kind, on your own terms, I am never too far from the beach.” Logan’s voice is shaky, but he can hear the relief in it, the slight smile peeking through, and his fins twitch in response. “Now, let’s get you home.”

 They settle on a bucket of water. With his permission, Logan puts the top on the bucket, though there are large airholes in it that allow him to see light and shadows. It is a bit unnerving, but Logan carefully narrates every movement he is going to make, careful not to slosh the water as he walks from the house to the car. He settles the bucket on the passenger seat, buckling it in.

 “I am assuming you have never been in a car before. It will probably seem extremely loud to you, despite me making all the noise cancelling adaptions I can. The water may vibrate and slosh occasionally, but all the noises are natural and we are not in any danger. This is the easiest and fastest way to get to the water, but if this is too much tell me, and I will use my secondary plan.”

 “What’s your secondary plan?”

 “… I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He lets out a giggle at that, leaning back in the water and bracing himself against the smooth sides of the bucket.

 “I’ll be ok. I… I trust you, Logan.” The human is oddly silent for a long moment, before he clears his throat.

 “Starting the engine.” He jumps at the rumble that echoes through the water, but acclimates quickly. It isn’t too bad, truly, a bit like the noise of a distant motor under the water. “Starting to move.” That is a bit more jarring, and his stomach flips at the sensation of movement without moving. He closes his eyes and breathes in through his gills, out through his nose, imagining it as the sway of Virgil’s hands as he swims, carefully holding him.

 Before long, the car stops and he hears the engine die down. He blinks as the lid is removed from the bucket. He swims up, clinging to the top of the bucket, poking his head up like a curious puppy. His eyes are wide as he takes in all the knobs and dials and lights. He wonders how anyone can keep track of what everything does.

 “Ready?” Logan asks, and he nods so fast he slips and splashes back down into the bucket. Logan’s head appears above him, concern slipping to mirth as he sees that he is indeed fine.

 “Alright. I’m going to come around to your side and open the door. We’re on the edge of the rocky beach, so I only have to carry you a little ways.”

 The door closes, his door opens, the bucket is carefully picked up and held securely against Logan’s chest, and his gills flare open, wide, blue fins on either side of his neck, that are bioluminescent in the darkness. They only pop open like this when he is excited or extremely happy, and right now he is both beyond measure.

 He is giddy, overwhelmingly giddy, as he smells the harsh, salty air, the smell of brine and moss and rock and algae and sand and fish, the cold breeze stinging against his face, the stars shining down, the moon reflecting on the open water. Just staring at the water is making his heart pound, his eyes water, because he never, never thought he would be here again.

 He lets out a high, warbling, singing, note. He sends it flying into the night air, sends it sailing through the winds and currents and rocks, pure, unadulterated joy, rushing through him like nothing he has ever felt before, can ever hope to name, because the ocean, the ocean is right there and getting closer, and his pulse is pounding with the rhythm of the waves rolling in and out, and the closer he gets, the louder the ocean, the more it takes over his whole being, light exploding in his chest.

 Then he hears an answering note, low and soft and hesitant, but it grows louder and then the sea is right there, and he launches himself out of the bucket to Logan’s surprised and concerned yelp, but it doesn’t matter, because Virgil is there, and Virgil catches him, and is cradling him so gently, so softly, holding him to his chest as if he’ll never let go.

 He has his arms spread as wide as possible, hugging as much of Virgil as he can, endless, relieved, happy sobs wracking his frame. He barely registers Virgil’s soothing rumbles that vibrate the larger mer’s chest, resonating through his frame.

 He is exhausted, he is starving, but he is so, so, so happy.

 Until he hears the shift in Virgil’s tone. His rumbles turn to growls, turn to a low, menacing voice, as he stares down Logan, electric violet eyes glowing in the night.

 “You took him.” Virgil growls, holding onto him tighter.  

 “I-“ Logan tries to explain, but Virgil bares his teeth, letting out a low hiss. He can feel the power gathering in Virgil’s throat, the magic that is about to erupt. Then the night is filled with haunting, echoing music. Impossible chords, impossible tenderness, impossible longing.

 He turns, breathe catching as he sees Logan, eyes glazed over, stepping off the rocky ledge into the ocean. The water here is already up to Logan’s neck, and as he watches, Logan walks farther into the waves, off the sandbank, head disappearing under the water.

 “Virgil! Stop!” He wiggles free of Virgil’s hold, desperately diving under the waves. He spots Logan immediately. He isn’t too far under, and he darts over to him as Virgil’s song abruptly cuts off.

 Immediately, Logan gasps in a breath, choking and coughing as he flails, inhaling water, panicking. He pulls at Logan’s coat collar, trying to show him the way to the surface, tail straining to tug him upwards, but he’s too small, he can’t, and Logan is drowning-

 Then a flash of purple, and Virgil’s hands are grasping Logan’s arms, dragging him to the surface and pulling him onto the beach. Virgil sits on the rocky shore, tail dangling in the water as he turns Logan on his side.

 He leaps onto the beach, ignoring Virgil’s protest as he curls against Logan’s cheek, relieved as the human starts coughing, spitting up saltwater. He murmurs to Logan, his tiny hands shaking as they gently pat his head, cooing and chirping at him softly, gently tugging at his hair.

 “Logan?” He asks, as the human’s eyes blink open. He groans, coughing as he pushes himself up onto his knees, now covered in sand and sopping wet.

 “What… what was that?” He croaks out. He snuggles against Logan, using Logan’s own dampness to keep his tail wet.

 “That was someone getting a little overzealous and being highly impolite!” He answers, crossing his arms and turning a stern glare on Virgil, who is gaping at him, looking between him and Logan with confusion.

 “Pat, he took you. I thought you were gone!” Virgil’s voice breaks, and he feels himself soften.

 “I know. But he only meant to help. It was my fault, Vee. I got tangled up in net. He helped.”

 “i thought you were dead.” Virgil’s voice is a whisper and it breaks his heart.

 “I’m not. I’m just fine, big fish. I’m here, and home and fine, thanks to Logan.” Virgil nods, lets out a shaky breath, extending his hand. He pulls away from Logan and allows Virgil to scoop him up, lifting him so they’re eye to eye.

 He smiles tenderly, placing a hand against Virgil’s nose, leaning his head against it and feeling the mer inhale and exhale.

 “don’t scare me like that, little minnow. I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.” After a long moment, Virgil lowers him back to the ground, setting him down so the tide is just lapping at the tip of his tail.

 “sorry… Logan. I… thank you. For bringing him home.” Virgil doesn’t meet Logan’s eyes, and with a flick of his tail, he is gone, out of sight, but not far. Logan straightens up and runs his hands through his hair.

 “Sorry about that. I should have known Vee would be a little testy. I… he’s lost a lot, already, because of humans. He’s always been pretty protective of me.” Logan shakes his head.

 “It is understandable. I… probably would have reacted less than favorably as well, had I been in his position. I’m glad you have someone who is willing to defend you like that. It… truthfully, you being out there alone made me a bit nervous.” Logan clears his throat, shaking his head. “I… should get going, then, I suppose.” Logan gives a small wave, turning, starting to walk away.

 “Logan! Do you wanna… meet here, again? In a few days maybe? I’m… I’m kinda curious about human life, and I can tell you some mer stuff too. As long as you keep it to yourself.” Logan smiles, turning his head to look back at the tiny mer.

 “That sounds wonderful. I would love to, as long as your friend doesn’t mind.”

 “He won’t.” Logan turns, but the mer’s voice rings out once more. “I’m Patton, by the way. I… I never really introduced myself.” Logan’s lips twitch into a smile.

 “You never had reason to. You were terrified out of your mind. Still, it was a pleasure to meet you, Patton. I… look forward to seeing you under more favorable circumstances.” Patton laughs, a sound a bit like distant bells, and as the next wave recedes from the shore, he is gone.

 He immediately flies into Virgil’s hands, letting the larger mer check him over worriedly for injuries, assuring him the scars wrapped around him from the net don’t hurt, have already faded, eventually just curling up against him, holding him tight, feeling his chest loosen with every rock of waves, every swish of tail, every breath of water.

 “you’re tired. You wanna sleep in my hair?” He nods, immediately burrowing into the silky substance, twining it around himself until he is surrounded by the safety, the warmth, of Virgil. He doesn’t think he will ever emerge. He has never felt so grateful, so safe, so happy, in all of his life.

 “Love you, big fish.” He murmurs, feeling Virgil rumbling lowly again, helping him ease into sleep.

 “Love you too, minnow. So, so, so much.” He hums in agreement, letting the sway of the sea rock him into a gentle, happy sleep, already looking forwards to seeing his human again. Maybe Virgil is right. Maybe he is too curious for his own good.