anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue pt 2

Everything said, it wasn’t a bad day. Sunny, sure, with the hint of a storm on the horizon, but Tucker liked those; it made the two worlds feel so much closer when there was as much water above as there was below. The currents got even way more fun to ride; he took his kid on the best little trips when hurricanes hit, which pissed off most of the other parents around. It’s dangerous, they insisted.

It's fun, Tucker through back, before swimming away, double fingers in the air. Er, water.

But he and Junior weren’t the most graceful of swimmers, not compared against the shining beautiful fins of some of the merfolk; they had the rougher, coiled tails full of personality and character of a seahorse. And even if they weren’t the flashiest, he swore he wouldn’t have it any other way; they were way more unique, he told his son, before high-fives were exchanged.

Junior was off with his friends, though, and Tucker was out on his own; sometimes, there were rocks that needed to be sunned upon. Not completely, of course; humans got all stupid when they saw merfolk, wanting to capture them and keep them in tanks for sideshows and use their tails for some mystical bullshit of a new caliber, but hey, his upper half was all human and just begging for some vitamin D. Pulling himself up, he folded his arms on the jagged edges and grinned a little; next time he found a shipwreck, he was going to have to go looking for some sunglasses. He needed to look cool when he was doing this.

Maybe this was why mermaids got a bad rap: laying on the rocks, getting sun, singing people to shore. Granted, he was less singing and more hummy, but it was all close enough. He could see a boat off a click or so, and he could make it pretty fast if he needed to, but for now, well, it was easier just to ignore it in face of heat and naps.

That storm was of greater importance than any song on the breeze. The men on the ship were working to sturdy the ship against the oncoming gale, and Washington was right there with them. He'd ditched the longcoat he'd brought with him, the heat of the tropics too thick to bear the thick weight of wool, and he'd rolled up his sleeves and joined the crew in pulling on a particularly stubborn coil of rope.

There was a strange vibration in the air, however. Something that tickled the skin, apart from the growing taste of ozone on the back of his tongue. He turned his attention towards those dark, billowing clouds as they grew closer and closer.

No matter. They'd endured storms before. This time would be no different.

Winding the rope and tying it off, Wash moved to the edge of the ship, leaning forward to catch his breath. It was then he noticed what could have been the shape of a man, dark skin readily noticeable against the pale rock jutting out of the ocean, and Wash found himself squinting slightly.

Was he...seeing things?

Hallucinations weren’t this good looking.

Tucker’s elbow rested on the rock, his chin fitting in the palm of his hand as he watched all the people moving on the vessel. They were worried; humans got so frantic around storms, couldn’t appreciate them in the same way due to the whole drowning thing. Psh. It had to be kind of shitty to be able to be killed by something as easy as water.

Shaking out his hair, he let the water dry on his skin while he watched all them rush around. No one really noticed him, which was coo—

Nevermind. Someone was staring at him and Tucker was looking back, squinting as well; his sight was good but the brightness bothered him when he was so much more accustomed to the shadows of darker depths. One hand raised, shielding his eyes—

Totally spotted. Well then. Tucker smirked a little and started to ease a little more into the water, before he raised his other hand to bring a finger to his lips. Shhh and a shake of his head. Don’t fuck him over, man.

Well that was...something.

Why would someone be on a rock in the middle of the ocean just sunning themselves, and not want to be noticed by a passing ship? It didn't make sense, but Wash slowly nodded. Alright. Fine. Goodbye, strange figment of his imagination.

But there was a growing commotion on deck. Still more preparation would be needed before the storm hit, and Wash turned back towards the main collection of the crew for assignment. Those clouds were growing closer, lightning crackling across the sky as the warm rays of the sun were slowly swallowed up.

Before long, the rain began.

See you, frail little human.

Except Tucker did see him, just watched him, might have followed his boat a little on a few currents far enough behind not to be immediately spotted. These people were worried about the storm, and Tucker could feel it; watching them freak out was indulging a little in his dark sense of humor. Was it really that bad?

Besides, he wanted to peek at the guy who was keeping his secret, who hadn’t alerted everyone else on this ship, and ratted him out. What kind of guy was he?

So he swam behind, feeling the choppiness of the waves growing as wind picked up. Whitecaps washed over him, tugging him under again before he surfaced and pushed his long hair back from his face. Poor humans were all wet; shit, it’s like they never heard of a shower before. If only Junior was here so they both could make fun of them.

Tucker swam to a closer rock, then a closer one still, grabbing the outcropping and holding on. They could see him, at least the human top half of him, if they looked, but Tucker knew they were probably too busy to even notice. Cool. Brown eyes scanned and tried catch a glimpse of that guy again; it was easier to see now that it was darker.

Preoccupation with the storm was indeed the order of the day. Men ran too and fro trying to tie everything down, to bail out of the worst of the waves as they cut through the swells tossing them about. One of the seamen started to cry about it being some kind of omen, some ill fortune that had been brought about, and Washington nearly spat. Why did it always have to be some kind of ridiculous superstition with these sorts?

Ah. But one of them HAD noticed Tucker out there on the waves. There! Devilfish! They've brought the storm upon us to feast on our bones once we're dead! And as attention turned briefly to Tucker, eyes not otherwise glued to their task, the man reached for a harpoon.

That was a step too far. If there was a man out there, he certainly hadn't brought the storm upon them, and he reached to grasp the man's wrist. "Have you lost your mind?!" he demanded, as lightning split the darkness overhead.

Annnnd that was the other bad thing about humans right there: they were so quick to blame shit on everyone - and everything - else when something went wrong. He couldn't have brought the storm anymore than he could have turned this ocean into a desert; he didn't have access to that sort of power, just like they didn't.

"Do you seem me in stupid long robes and a pointy hat? No? Then I'm not a fucking wizard, you idiots!"

Yelling that probably wasn't helping his case.

The second he saw the harpoon, he dove under the water, not deep but enough that he hoped he was a little lost in the shadows and the ripples of the rising waves. Seriously? Humans were gross to eat; he knew a person whose second cousin twice removed had a neighbor who tried one and said it was disgusting. Plus? Way too close to cannibalism for his liking; they weren't that different!

Some of them were even kind of cute. Same upper body, smoother ears, two legs but that could be ignored.

Tucker swam under the shadow of the ship, pressing close against the side as he surfaced, hoping they couldn't see him. These idiots were going to fall right off the side if they kept this up, and they might have deserved it.

Funny thing about that.

Wash was in most cases a sensible person, but hurling harpoons at random people in the ocean for bringing about storms was about as far from sensible as it got. People who were afraid for their lives, however, weren't often that sensible.

Scuffling on the slick deck of the ship so close to the edge hadn't been the best idea either. The man roared back at him that he was saving them from the damn thing's curse, and that Wash wasn't about to stop him, and a second later the ship roiled and bucked under the weight of another heavy wave.

And Wash? Suddenly found his world upending. Something sharp caught across his ribs as he and the man slammed together, and then he was falling. The world spun, wet and dark, until he slammed into the water with a smack that knocked the air out of him. Down, down he went, as the current swirled around him and he desperately tried to find the surface, only to be continuously tossed about as the ship dragged overhead.

No...no!

Humans. What the hell.

Tucker watched the one fall over the edge, the one that had tried to protect him from Crazy McSuperstitiouspants with the harpoon, the one that waved to him and kept his secret. If it had been anyone else, this might have been different; people fell into the water all the time, and sometimes they made it, sometimes they didn't.

But this guy? This guy was owed one.

Tucker dove under the surface, using his arms to pull himself out of the ship's drag as he looked around for any hint of the guy, colors or reflections or-- There we go, a shadow, vaguely man shaped if he squinted. Slipping into the closest current, he rode it closer, down as it spun him around and fuck, he needed to go faster. Arms cut through the water, his tail trying to spur him the darker down they went. If he reached a little farther-- if he reached--

Fingers brushed by the man's shirt once, missed, before managing a second time, gripping the fabric and tugging him close. Lightning exploded overhead above the waves, and for a second Tucker could see freckles on the guy's nose, was close enough to stare at him and count his eyelashes. Wow, he was cut--

No, no, he was drowning. Tugging him a little closer, he crushed his mouth to the man's, blowing air into it.

Darkness was closing in on his vision as he fought, kicking towards what seemed like it could be the surface, when suddenly something was gripping him. Pulling him, and the last gulp of air he had left his lips in an inarticulate noise of rage. No, he'd been so close!

And as his vision started to darken entirely, he felt something against his mouth. Soft, warm, and suddenly air rushed into his lungs. A handful of bubbles escaped to either side as his eyes widened, suddenly very aware of that presence in front of him.

Was it the same man he'd seen on the rocks? How could that be?

When his eyes widened like that, Tucker--

Stop. He needed to save him. One arm wrapped around that body as he pulled his waist close to him, and if this human was looking for legs to kick with his own, he would be searching for awhile. Fins waved as he pushed himself up towards the bright flickers of light when the lightning sparked, the easiest guidance he had. He needed to get there. He needed--

Tucker squeezed him a little tighter was he pushed through a current, the final one before they crested the top to sweet, sweet air. The ship was tossing on the waves some distance off already; it was amazing how fast things could happen in a storm. A wave dropped down on them again, and Tucker tightened his grip as he felt them being pushed towards a tall, wide rock that practically could have been a small island, cave and all.

Good, somewhere for this guy to breathe and cough up half the sea that he swallowed. "Hold on as tight as I know you want to," and he guided them over. They weren't too horribly far from shore; he was pretty sure he could get the guy back when the weather calmed down.

Barring that this guy didn't turn out to be like everyone else.

Suddenly the rush of water was back, dizzying and turning his senses all about. 'Hang on', he'd said, and Wash did just that as they were pulled through the water, bound in some unknown direction. He just needed to hold his breath for long enough, and his arms wound tight around Tucker's chest as he drew them towards their destination.

This was insane. This was all of it completely and utterly incomprehensible, but he was still hanging on for dear life regardless. No sense in hoping this was all some mad dream he might wake up from.

It was either this or drowning, so maybe a little insanity wasn't all that bad.

Tucker almost lost him twice in the heavy water, and trying to swim with only one arm was a pain; he had to do a lot when Junior was first starting off and he wasn't excited to be back to it. But the closer they got, the more energy spurred him, and while he crashed against the rocks once, he made sure to spin them so he took most of the damage. Hurt like hell, too; he could feel a cut in his back spreading open and salt water smarted in the cut.

Damn. But they got to the small almost grotto where the water was starting to calm down the longer they waited. It was dark in here, but even without the flickering lightning Tucker could see just fine; evolution was a beautiful thing. He wasn't sure if the stranger could do the same, or what he would say if he could. There was a tiny bit of room to sit outside the water, enough for two people if they drew in close, and Tucker shoved the human up to it as best he could.

He...he should go. Let this guy just figure everything out on his own, let him fill in the blanks with superstitions or facts like they always did.

"Need some more air? Because I'm not sure you got enough when we were down there."

Because what was listening to instinct?

Finally, there was air. Real, fresh air, and Wash was dragging himself out of the water as best he could, coughing out the ocean he'd managed to swallow while down there and dragging in sharp, rasping gasps in between. Alive. He was alive, but it was still dark, still storming and...

And the ship was leaving him behind.

"No...no!" A sharp movement towards the entrance of the cave and he winced, that raking wound from the harpoon stinging sharply at his side as he sagged back against the rocks. "D-dammit..."

Oh, so that's what that smell was. Tucker swam to the edge, watching him for a moment. Blood, darker than any ocean here, and he reached out to touch it.

"You don't want to be on that ship anyway," he said, before holding up a finger. A second later and he disappeared under the water, lost. One minute, two, five, longer than anyone could hold their breath for, and finally he was back up in the same spot with wet hair hung around him, the ends floating lazily before he pulled himself onto the rock beside him.

Were you waiting for legs? Because that's not what you're getting.

The tip of his tail curled up and in on itself like a party favor before it's blown into, and he ignored it as he took his newfound seaweed from where it was clinging under the surface. "Just press this on your cut. Seriously, you can do way better than being on a ship where they try to harpoon everything that moves."

Nonchalant. Act like it's nothing. And to Tucker, it was; he was comfortable with himself, who he was, and how lucky people were to glimpse him. But...then again, when was the last time he actually talked to a human, anyway?

He'd had an argument ready about how he didn't want to be stuck on a rock in the middle of the ocean with no food, no fresh water, and no hope of rescue either, but the argument died as Tucker pulled himself up onto the rock and he saw...

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. The seaweed was ignored entirely as he stared, trying to come to terms with what was in front of him. Not quite a mermaid, not a maid of any kind, and nothing like the tales. Even those had been fantastical nonsense but here, in front of him, was something real and wholly unlike anything he'd ever known.

"What...are you?" And those blue eyes lifted to rest on Tucker's.

What are you. Well, that was one way to ask that question, wasn’t it? Tucker made a face, some scowl and he knew he shouldn’t have been offended because they usually asked it this way, but it didn’t mean he liked hearing it.

“The best looking creature that you are ever going to lay eyes on.” Ask a question, get an answer. He tried not to get distracted by those eyes; they reminded him of home, and he could stare at them forever. Blue. So blue, the kind that could take his breath away. This was bad. This was dangerous.

“My name is Tucker,” and he emphasized it to make a point.. He sighed and leaned closer, over, before he pressed the seaweed to that wound. He wasn’t sure if it would help, but they could at least use it to push it to stop the bleeding. He wasn’t exactly the go to source of healthcare for humans.

“What are you?” he tossed back.

A hiss escaped him as the wet seaweed plastered itself to his side, already streaked pink. One hand flew to guard it against...what? Attack? Tucker's hand? He'd already proven he was more interested in seeing him alive than not.

A numb sort of shock was settling in, as his eyes once again raked over Tucker. "This isn't happening..." he muttered, more to himself than to Tucker. "This can't be happening. This isn't real."

Usually, that reassurance did something. After a time.

Usually. And hell, most people could lie to themselves enough that the swimming men making pace with ships really were dolphins and sleep all the more soundly at night. But Tucker was there, was close, was unfurling his tail and smacking it against the rocks. It wasn't so easy to dismiss when he was just inches apart.

Tucker smelled like the sea as he got up close; not like a fish, but clean and natural and made of wind and water. The brown eyes blinked, rolling again as he sat back to give him a little space. Hysterical. People were always so hysterical.

"You want to touch me? Would that make you feel better?" Fins waved once, a beckoning. "I'm trying to help you here because bleeding to death would be pathetic after you just survived drowning."

Stunned into temporary silence, Wash lowered his gaze numbly to the wound at his side. The harpoon. The ship. "I have to get back," he finally muttered, though squeezing the seaweed tighter to his side as he spoke. Regardless of what sort of creature Tucker was, it didn't change the fact that they were in the middle of the ocean, no land in sight for miles and miles.

"I have to get back to the ship before they get too far away."

I can't get left behind. Not again.

"...really? You want to go back with them? With the guys who tried to kill you?"

And this? This was why humans were weird, wanting to band together even after they stabbed them - accidental or not - and pitched them overboard. Tucker didn't get it, because to him, that sounded like a stupid place to want to get back to, a stupid place with asshole people. But hey, sure, land was cool? He guessed. Not as pretty as the sea, but shit did the sun feel good.

"Look, I don't think you're in any shape to get back to them, and the water's still pretty rough from the wind." His shoulders rolled in an easy shrug. "You're stuck here until another ship comes by."

Humans who wanted to try and kill him, at least, were a known quantity. Trapped here, possible dangers were so much varied and unpredictable. One merman in the midst of all of that did not a safe harbor make.

But what choice did he really have, at this point? Swimming to catch up to the ship would be damn near impossible, even without the wound in his side. Still, he looked far from happy, staring back at Tucker with no shortage of wariness, even for someone who supposedly was looking out for him.

Why? Weren't mermaids supposed to be...bad? Dangerous?

"And what would you suggest?" he finally ground out.

“You’re not good at the whole ‘Being thankful my life was just saved’, are you?”

Come on, that look? The way this guy was talking to him? Tucker could see through it, the same human reactions. No, it wasn’t like the rumors and he didn’t try to drag people down to drown; if he did, this really ungrateful ass would be swallowing half the ocean. Ugh. Humans.

“I would suggest being a little nicer before I leave you here and just go back home to my kid.” Tucker swirled his tail in the water, half-glaring. “But I can get you some fish and there’s water from the rain on the top of this rock, so you’ll be fine. And once you’re ready, I figured I could try to swim with you to the shore at night so the sun doesn’t cook you. Or we can wait until another ship goes by and try to get you on that; this is a pretty popular area.”

The skeptical look was challenging. "Unless you have a better idea?"

No. No, he did not. And if he was lucky enough to have a mermaid who spoke English and was more interested in helping him than devouring him or...whatever they were meant to do? He should be thankful for the fact.

Some of the tension around his face eased for a moment as he stared at Tucker, eyes once again taking this all in. He looked normal enough, save for certain details, and once you got down to the waist there was no denying exactly what he was.

"Right..." Closing his eyes against another wince of pain he pulled himself up further onto the rock, away from the water's edge as much as he could manage. Then, he gave Tucker another very long look before his shoulders sank.

"...thank you."

“You’re welcome.” Tucker wasn’t sure if the guy really meant it. Probably not; humans weren’t exactly known for being a friendly bunch. Still, this guy had protected him, had watched out for him, couldn’t be all bad, right? Reaching over, he tried to help him up out of the water a little more, then started to look for something dry.

There wasn’t anything down here. But up top…

“Look, we’re about to get really friendly, so you might as well tell me your name while you’re handing me your clothes.”

Yes. Yes, he did just say that.

Red vs Blue pt 2

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