#dispatchau

The structure of Selkie culture, at least for Herman's colony, Is that only when you have properly learned your song are you allowed to go on land as a human. It began as a safety measure, because the song has different variations, one of which is a distress call. Even in human form, they have different vocal chords they can activate, and sound of the call. This ability is unique to his particular colony, and it was a skill they developed and passed down generation to generation so that should one of them ever lose their skin they can still ask for help.

As time has gone on though, it's a point of pride now. So Herman is an outcast. His grandmother of course still loves him and treats him well, but his peers and his brothers do not. A Selkie with no song can't find a mate, can't call for help, can't sound the victory call; they can't be a part of their rituals, and by and large, their society. By means of exclusion, mostly.

Being able to sing or not doesn't actually inhibit one's ability to communicate with their brethren. To them though, it's basically like he is the only one in the family of doctors who didn't want to be a doctor. Except he isn't really choosing not to know how to sing. It's not his fault.

How one learns their song is kind of obscure and mysterious. Some are born with one. Others come into it as they age, in fact usually it's kind of a puberty thing. Others need a catalyst. Herman was not born with one. He matured and still did not feel it in his heart. He knew danger, and still did not feel it in his heart.

And so, when you find him, that is the first time he's been on land. And when you see him without his skin, that is the first time he has ever been in human form.

***

It's been a hell of a day. Herman's facade fell apart the moment he hit the floor. Well. It's more that he gently slumped to it, thanks to you.

You took Mari to the museum. The zoo. A nature park she'd never seen. And then to the mall, just to goof around. Watching you come through that door with her just...shit. He could behold that sight every damn day. Both laughing and smiling. Mari just a bundle of joy in spite of everything, and you did that. You took her out of the cloud Herman couldn't fight back and made her happy for a whole day.

Helped her remember that it's okay to smile even when you're sad.

Robert and Mandy spread out all his bills and finances and statements on the living room table and worked through it with him while you and Mariam klinked around in the kitchen, giggling, chatting. The smell of food wafting. It took half the day, but about the time he starts smelling cookies, Robert and Mandy seem to have a good handle on everything that's gone wrong and have helped him with a plan.

Starting with a performance raise. Mandy runs the show, and he was due for one at his next review, but he needs it now.

Already overwhelmed with the love that surrounds him, Herman breaks when he overhears what's going on in his kitchen.

The Z-Team gave him a gauntlet of various hugs on their way out. Robert and Mandy are organizing all his paperwork for him. He decided to go check on what kind of antics you're getting up to, and he stops dead.

"I know he's so sad. He's been sad for a long time."

"Well, that's unfortunately a part of being a grown-up sometimes. That's why it's so good he has all these friends. And you!"

Mariam giggles. But she goes on, voice a little sullen. "I want to fix it."

You let out this loving sigh. "I do too. But it's not so easy. These cookies are probably a good start though. You said they're his favorite?"

"Yeah!! He's gonna love em!"

"Normally you shouldn't do dessert first. But the chicken's not done yet and you've both had a rough week, so I think we can make an exception."

More giggling. Shuffling. Stirring. Mariam chirps your name.

"Hmm?"

"Do you wanna be my mom?"

His hand flies to his mouth and it feels like he can't breathe.

"Ah, hah, oh, honey that's." You actually sound moved to tears. "That's such a sweet thing to ask me. But it would be complicated."

Sad, now. "You wouldn't want to?"

You set something down. Your voice changes locations -- like you're kneeling in front of her. "Oh, that's not the issue. Plenty of people step in to be in a kid's life! But that usually only happens if their mom or dad really, really like that person."

"Dad likes you! He likes you a lot!"

You laugh. Herman's leaning on the wall, crying silently. "I mean...they have to want to be together, Mari. He likes me but, we're just friends. Does it make sense?"

Sadder. "Yeah..."

"But hey! You know how you've got Uncle Robert? I'm totally on board with being your weird crazy aunt!"

And Mariam laughs. He can hear her jumping up and down, excited. Herman sneaks away to deal with his emotions in the bathroom, because it's too much to ignore or try to fight anymore. He's been trying so hard and succeeding to the point where you don't even know he loves you. Or, maybe, you just wanted to keep it simple for Mariam. It's easier to say what you did than it is to explain the nuances of grief. But if you know, you're doing a damn good job at acting like you don't.

By the time he comes out, Robert and Mandy are ready to head off, fresh cookies in hand. You've got a plate for him, dinner on the way, and he goes to the fridge to get some milk and sees the stacks and stacks of prepared meals that you and Mari labeled together. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.

"You doing better?" You ask him. In the tiny moment he has alone with you, while Mari runs to use the restroom and wash her hands.

"Yeah," he says. So tired. So grateful. "Y-you didn't have--this is so much."

You pat his back. "Yeah I did. Let any of us know if you need more help. Please."

Still concerned. You're looking at him like you're worried he's gonna collapse again. Herman almost gets the nerve to kiss you when Mariam comes stampeding back down the stairs, and you laugh at her, tossing an easy, instinctual, "hey, careful! Don't trip!"

The moment passes. He gets some real, delicious food that he didn't have to cook. You refuse to let him give you money for the sixth time. Mari's exhausted from the day and actually puts herself to bed, hugging him tight after telling him she's sleepy. He follows her just to tuck her in, and comes back to you tearing through the dirty dishes so he doesn't have to worry about them.

You keep flexing your neck, twisting your head side to side with a soft wince and a sigh.

Herman just can't help himself anymore.

***

You've been on your feet all day, all night, and boy is it catching up to you.

It's worth it, though. Soon you can take a long hot shower, work out the knots, and get a good sleep.

You're on the last pot, focusing on a burnt on stain in the gathering silence after your conversation with Herman comfortably slipped into just existing near each other, and you take a breath to tell him to sit back down, don't worry, you've got this...when a featherlight touch sends a shiver down your neck.

"C-can--I can. At least fix that."

Blush creeps up your face. "I'll, it's okay," you start.

"Please?" he asks. So quiet. Like he's falling apart behind you. "You've done--all of you have done so, so much for me and. I j-just want to..."

You smile.

You nod.

And then you moan a little too loud, without expecting or meaning to, because he digs the pad of his thumb into the stiff muscle juuuuuuust right. "Hhhhoh. Wow." You slump over the sink. "God. Herm, that's..." Your knees almost give out.

The pot tumbles into the sink and all you can do is close your eyes and revel in it. The softest laugh sneaks past his lips and he works it a little harder, using both hands in symmetrical motions. "I used to d-do this for...well. I just. I got good at. This."

"You reaaaaalllly did," you groan out. Stumbling a little.

He steps closer. Nearly pinning you there, and you're really lost in it because you're not even mortified when you lean back into him with a hum. And he graduates to running just his fingertips up and down your neck, nearly to your collarbone, one hand gliding up your face and lighting up every soothing nerve in your skin.

***

He wants to kiss your neck so badly he's nearly drooling at the thought.

Heat coils low in his belly, and Herman swallows dryly over what he's done. That noise he got out of you launched his soul into the atmosphere and now he can't stop touching you. Every single time he makes another pass you sink against him further and Herman's mind goes into a tailspin.

You seem to realize this has gone past appropriate and it's like you've woken from a dream -- you gasp and apologize, but when you go to move, he holds you. "D-don't," he begs. "P-please. Please tell me you--I." His hands roam, caressing your neck. Cupping your face. He might actually die if you don't feel how he does. A bolt of cold fear hits him deep in his chest at the thought.

But then you touch him back.

You hold his wrist and snuggle into his palm, placing a very lingering kiss.

It's a blur.

He can tell you're struggling to stay quiet, this strained gasp sounding out when he turns you, lifts you to the empty space beside the sink; a brief, shaky pause before he pushes past his anxiety and just finally, with so much relief and yearning, kisses you.

And you melt.

He pulls you as close as you'll fit, heat consuming him, settling in places long neglected, but that's all it is. Heat. There's a distinct and frustrating lack of bloodflow. He figures maybe it'll happen if he just keeps following what you want; every time you kiss him back, he continues, holding you, humming softly, shivering under your touches.

Herman loses all rational thought and it just slips out without him considering it might be entirely too soon, too much, too intense, but it is the truth.

"I l-love you."

He tries to whisper it, like maybe you would miss it, and he could admit it without consequences, but it comes out in a pitiful, needy whimper instead.

He freezes just for a moment, because the short, breathy laugh seizes his heart: is it a nervous response before you let him down easy or--

"I love you too."

Even then. Nothing happens. Just burning need and no ability to quench it, but then your response finally loads in his brain and everything he was trying to kickstart collapses. He pulls away and clutches your head to his chest, lips pressed to your temple, crying.

The way you hold him might kill him where he stands, and you worm away, pulling his face down, hugging his head into your neck as you soothe him. The grip on his powers far away, he sputters out apologies you clarify that he doesn't need to say, drenching your shirt as you quietly laugh and adorn his whole face in kisses. An attempt to steady him that eventually works.

"You don't even need to ask," you respond when he begs you to stay.