Chapter Text
The floodlights click on, scattering deep shadows away with a hiss. A round blue-white radius, not quite touching the water’s edge. The only sounds are of the gentle lapping, the low buzz of electricity, and the distant rumble of waves breaking on the rocky shore.
Below, the pod mingles, crooning and chirping; pacing back and forth as they find a comfortable spot to lay together.
Tommy hovers between both worlds, paralyzed. Unable to bring himself to join either.
Water meant safety. Protection. But deeper down, it was too dark to see danger approaching. So he huddles by the wall, flicking his tail nervously, watching the light refract through the pool, and hugs himself tight.
A soft call from Wilbur rises. “Come rest?” he asks, head tilted back, lips in a pout.
Tommy glances down and shakes his head silently, curling his claws into the wall the best he can. He’s not moving.
A mournful whimper. Techno grabs the young adult and forces him down, curling his tail over Wil’s to keep him in place.
Wilbur resists for a couple of minutes; Tommy can hear his disgruntled clicks and huffs as he tries to shove his podmate away. All the while the Protector rumbles soothingly, indifferent, until Phil passes by, hiding Wilbur’s body under his own. A pause and the protests stopped. Then the Caretaker turns, swimming up to meet Tommy.
“Pup.”
Tommy flinches but doesn’t move from his spot on the wall. He inhales. “Phil,” he greets.
A hum. The Caretaker drifts closer, wide fins fanning open on either side of Tommy, boxing him in. Surprisingly, it didn’t make him nervous. His shoulders drop and he curls his tail into a more restful position, the need to bolt not as prevalent.
“Would you like to join us?” Phil offers kindly. “The moon is up. You should get some sleep.”
For the second time, Tommy shakes his head. “I’m not tired.”
“Mm.”
Silence sits between them. Not uncomfortably. It was nice, actually. Tommy examines Phil’s scales. The green-black sheen it has. Shifting shades in the light. At times revealing the bright flicker of emerald amongst the darkness.
They were pretty. All the pods’ were, if he was honest. Shiny and smooth. The gaps between scales carefully tended to. They spent a lot of time preening. By themselves, and with each other. They’d even made him endure it, despite him not having the attention span for the kind of in-depth cleaning they enjoyed.
Tommy isn’t so good at it himself. That’s why he needs his pod to help him reach the tough spots-
He sniffles; chest aching. It’s only been what? A day? The hole in him seems to only grow by the minute. The idea of seeing Sam simultaneously made him euphoric and want to throw up. He hugs his arms around himself, pressing his back against the wall, and bites down the stupid crooning warble that’ll definitely start another round of sobbing.
He’s done with crying. He hates it. He just wants his real pod to take him back. Hasn’t he learned his lesson enough? Why are they being so cruel for so long?
Phil coos, trailing a thumb across Tommy’s cheek, tilting his head slightly to the side. “What’s the matter pup? Is it your pod again?”
Tommy gnaws on the inside of his cheek, lowering his head in shame. He can’t help it. Every time he tries to not think about it, all the pain and hurt only come flooding back harder.
He’s sick of it. He’s sick . His stomach ties itself into tighter knots.
Phil clicks his tongue softly. “Let me help distract you from your pain, Tommy. Repay the kindness you did for me.”
Hesitantly, Tommy chirps in agreement. What exactly did Phil have in mind?
He’s not grabbed, or crooned at; his instincts made soft and fuzzy, so he can’t think straight. Rather, Phil simply talks.
“I miss the ocean,” he sighs. “I miss home. You can barely see the stars here, because of the human lights.”
Tommy looks up, and sure enough, the dark sky is illuminated too much by the glow of the floodlights. And though their light made Tommy feel safer, he couldn’t help but wonder what the sky would look like without its interference.
Phil continues speaking, his voice low, measured. Soothing and easy to listen to. “We travel by the stars, follow their light. It’s so sad that they fade more with each generation. I hate to imagine a world where their beauty is completely gone. How will we navigate then?” He shakes his head. “I have no idea. I hope things get better. I hope nature heals.”
“Heals?” Tommy asks quietly, reverently. He stares upward, still searching for the star-filled sky Phil spoke of.
Phil hums. “Yes, heals.” Softly, a hand pets Tommy’s tail and he flinches, meeting the Caretaker’s blue eyes; a few shades lighter than his own.
A beat, then Phil reaches out again, carefully brushing a knuckle down Tommy’s spine.
Another shudder, melting into relaxation. Tommy’s sail fans and he moves closer to Phil’s touch.
This doesn’t mean anything. He’s just tired and stressed. It’s nothing they haven’t done before; Tommy curled under Phil’s chin for a nap for both of them.
Phil croons, pressing Tommy closer, eliminating space to slip through. With the wall at his back, and the Caretaker hiding him from danger, Tommy chirrs, fear finally easing away completely.
“You should sleep,” Phil whispers. “You need it.”
“Don’ need it,” Tommy grumbles. “Need t’ stay ‘wake.”
Fingers pinch the back of his neck and he squeaks sharply. Then a rush of purrs vibrate from Phil’s chest, making his muscles go lax and limp.
“Why’s that, Tommy?” the Caretaker hums questioningly, massaging Tommy’s neck and back with slow, even circles.
He wriggles and whines, “Danger”
“No danger. Safe-safe.”
Tommy whines more, confusion leaking pathetically into his cries. It’s dark and there’s no roof over his head. Where’s his protection?
Phil sweeps him up to his chest, humming and purring calmingly. “It’s alright, pup. Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m here. Shhh. Sleep .”
Tommy flaps his fins and smacks his tail against Phil’s side. He doesn’t want to. He needs to stay awake-
“Ok,” the mer acquiesces. “Ok, you don’t have to sleep now. I’ll stay with you until you’re ready though.”
Lips brush his temple, as light and brief as a bubble popping on his skin.
“I’ll always stay with you.” The whispered promise. Tommy’s heart clenches, and he turns his face into Phil’s shoulder, hating the way relief floats through him. Lithe fingers scratch lightly around his spine, almost ticklish, as he clenches his jaw; pretending it doesn’t affect him as much as it does.
Sam once made a similar promise. It was so long ago, Tommy barely with his eyes open, but he remembers the tone. The love and reverence of being cared for.
A thing he still wanted, despite everything.
“What were you talking about before?” he mutters, changing the subject. He needs a distraction. And desperately.
“About the stars?”
“Sure. Yeah.”
Phil smiles. “I’d love to show them to you one day. They fill up the whole sky so brightly. The glimmers of light on a darker, more vast ocean. I often wonder what is up there.”
“Sam knows,” Tommy says. “He knows everything.”
“Humans are quite clever, I must admit. They create such fascinating machines.” He sighs, then. “But also deadly, at times.”
Tommy tenses, shuffling in Phil’s hold. “They’re good,” he insists. “They helped you. And me.”
“I won’t argue that these are.” A hand strokes through his hair, unpicking a few tangles with gentle flicks of large claws. “Remember, pup. It was human machines and their pollution that made my pod sick. That is unforgivable. I can recognize your humans had nothing to do with it, however. I trust them. As fragile as it is.”
Phil has a point. Tommy frowns into his collar, gripping at the elder’s scales sulkily. At least Phil doesn’t hate his pod. And, he supposes, forced to admit this truth: it’s more than fair.
“May I ask you a question?” Phil interrupts his thoughts.
Tommy tilts his head, twisting to look more fully at the mer’s face. He shrugs. “M’kay.”
“Why are you here, instead of with a real pod?”
Tommy sharpens at the insinuation that his pod isn’t real , but then collapses. It’s not worth arguing about. Not when he’s tired and so unsure of it himself.
He sighs, blowing a small stream of bubbles and watching them rise and pop at the surface.
“My birth-mother,” he mumbles. “Caretaker, I suppose. They found her washed up on a beach.” Phil twitches, a low worried-hiss grumbling in his throat. Tommy coos reassurance-happy-safe and the Caretaker settles.
“She…” Tommy slides his tongue across the back of his fangs thoughtfully. “She was sick and close to birth.”
“...She didn’t survive?” Phil correctly infers.
Tommy hums. “They did their best. Sam says I was born too small. They thought I wouldn’t survive very long. He refused to leave me.” He blinks hard, shuddering, fighting back tears. “He’s my Caretaker. He’s always been there.”
His voice cracks, fragile porcelain.
“I… thought he’d always be there.”
It breaks. He shatters.
Tommy heaves with repressed sobs. “Do you think he hates me?”
“No,” Phil soothes, rocking their bodies together. Vibrations thrum up through Tommy’s belly into his chest, loosening its tension. “No, not at all. He’s done the best he can. He’s loved you well. Let me have a chance to do the same.”
Tommy doesn’t last long enough to see the sunrise; the first golden-orange rays sparkling over the teal blue of the ocean. The headlights of his pod’s vehicles come in and park.
He wakes to splashing, excited trills, and fish.
That latter one he wasn’t expecting. He flinches as one darts past, alive , Wilbur hot on its tail, eyes narrowed in absolute glee.
It didn’t stand a chance, and with a jubilant chirp, Wilbur swaggers back with his catch. He offers it out, blood continuing to bleed sluggishly into a crimson cloud from the hole he’s punctured into its small heart with his large claws. It twitches, the last vestiges of life puppeting its small body.
“Here, pup,” Wilbur smiles, crooning in the back of his throat. A little happy tune at a successful hunt. His irises are pushed to the brink, nearly swallowed by expanded pupils.
Tommy stares at it, bewildered, curled up in Phil’s arms. He’s barely woken, he doesn’t exactly have an appetite yet.
And there’s another thing-
He’s never had live food.
Tommy grimaces and turns his face away, chirring, “not-hungry, tired,” hoping that Wilbur will leave him alone.
He’ll wait for better food.
Wilbur whines but Phil tsks at him and Tommy feels the currents as the young adult moves away. Perhaps going back to hunting.
He risks a peek. Next to Phil’s tail is laid Wilbur’s offering. Tommy wrinkles his nose and resolves not to eat it.
Another fish dips into his periphery. Swimming lazily closer to Phil, as if unbothered to be so close to a dangerous predator. Tommy watches, fascinated. Silvery scales that gleam dully compared to their own. It continues its journey, passing nearly close enough that he could stretch out a hand and pet it.
Tommy leans backs, wide eyes trailing behind it as it moves further away into the tank depths. Rejoining the swirling school that was being steadily pecked apart by Techno and Wilbur.
“It won’t hurt you pup,” Phil chuckles, cupping Tommy’s back. He bends his neck and coos, “you’re far more big and scary.”
“Shut up.” Tommy feels his face get hot and he squirms to peek over Phil’s shoulder as Techno approaches, a fistful of food in each hand.
“Pilot,” the Protector rumbles, opening his palms to show his own offerings. This time for Phil.
The Caretaker graciously accepts, pinching a pair and slicing them open.
“Eat, pup,” he insists, holding the bigger fish up to Tommy’s nose.
He sniffs hesitantly. It smells the same as the other food he’s always eaten. The only difference is that this was alive only moments ago, rather than the indeterminate amount before his Pod threw it to him.
He pokes it. It feels the same.
All Tommy can do is shrug at that point. Food is food. And he loves fish. He tears his teeth into the head, grinding his jaw a little to snap the bones and cartilage; enjoying the crackle in his mouth and rush of sweet flavors.
It’s good. A little warmer than normal, the blood more fresh, uncoagulated. He likes it, he decides.
He chirps, satisfied, and shoves more between his lips.
Phil passes a hand over his hair, stroking his scales briefly with a flick of his wrist, then turns to his own breakfast.
They eat in silence, mostly. Wilbur comes and goes, dropping more hunt before Phil to approve. Each time earning a thankful trill and coo. The blue mer beams wide, tail wagging when he sees Tommy eating, and on his next return, shyly gives another food-gift. Tommy accepts it this time and Wilbur, drunk with happiness, nearly snatches him from Phil’s lap.
The Elder Caretaker shoves him away and growls, batting at his son’s hands. “Do your duty,” he hisses. “Know your place.”
Tommy whimpers, crawling up onto Phil’s shoulder and curling behind the other’s neck, hiding within the layers of blond hair.
Phil rumbles soothingly, reaching up to cup Tommy protectively. “Safe-safe, pup. No fear.”
Despite the reassurance, doubt drips steadily, leaking into the contentedness he’d relaxed into. Tommy shakes his head, peering suspiciously at Wilbur as he drifts away again, off to pout in some corner or track down the last few fish hiding in the tank’s waters.
Speaking of fish-
A gray one passes by, smaller than the others that Tommy and the others had eaten. Perhaps a juvenile scooped in with the rest?
He glances up, checking for Wilbur. He thought he and Phil would be ecstatic at being reunited but they keep having near fights; growling and snapping at each other too close for comfort. Did they not have as good of a bond as Tommy thought? Strange as it was, he didn’t want to start more conflicts, so settled on avoiding the younger for now.
Surely, they’d both calm eventually.
Cautiously, he flicks his tail, emerging slightly from his hiding spot. The fish is slowly fanning itself in a funny little squiggle that catches his attention, and Tommy swims a length closer, more interested in examining its patterns when not overwhelmed by dozens at once.
“What are you doing, pup?” Phil asks curiously. He brings his hand up, lightly tickling Tommy’s belly, but he squirms away, trying to keep the fish in eyesight.
Tommy snorts annoyance and swims out further. “Not now,” he mutters, jerking when his little prey darts suddenly to the right. Oh!
It’s kinda fun to chase the fish. At one point it catches a glimpse of him and speeds off, Tommy chirping in excitement as it wriggles its little body trying to outpace him. He beats his tail, outstretches his hands on instinct, and squeals with victory as he snaps his hands down around it, entrapping it in his claws.
His catch, his catch, his catch.
“Little hunter,” Wilbur’s voice coos. “I saw you catch that all on your own. Good pup .” A warm croon of praise and Tommy melts, sail flickering, grip relaxing just a little-
A flash and his prey flees from between his fingers.
Tommy warbles, brow dipping in a pout. That was his! He growls unhappily, floating in a circle. Now how will he find it again?
“It’s alright,” Wilbur chuckles. “You have to keep a tight grip, Tommy, or they’ll try to escape. What a wonderful first hunt, though.” He purrs, bumping his forehead to Tommy’s. “Would you like another one?”
Thoughts consumed by the want for prey-food-hunt-his. Tommy whines, curling into Wilbur’s arm, plucking at his scales needily.
“Yes-please-give-Caretaker.”
His reflection in Wilbur’s eyes is big and dark. A responding call rising on the blue mer’s lips and Tommy purrs-
A screech explodes through the water and Tommy screams. Immediately, Wilbur cups his hands around him, holding him safely to his chest as a louder growl vibrates his bones, making him shudder and chirp help-help-help.
He hears growling, the snap of teeth, a bellow that makes all his scales tremble in fright.
Tommy whimpers, pressing closer to Caretaker-Wilbur’s chest, peeping for safety-reassurance-scared .
Wilbur barks in pain, the comfort of hiding suddenly ripped away as a pink hand snatches Tommy by the waist and drags him away.
“Help!” Tommy screams. He reaches out desperately, straining for Caretaker. Wilbur snarls, eyes wild as he darts forward and they nearly touch-
The water foams, a wave crashing above his head as Phil slams into Wilbur with a challenging roar, sending the younger male spinning into the wall. A beat and Phil is on top of Caretaker again, raising a sharp clawed hand.
The last thing he witnesses before he’s forced away is his Caretaker cowering, hiding his head in his arms as Phil bears down on him relentlessly.
Techno should’ve seen this coming. He had a feeling there was something off about Wilbur’s behavior. Something not quite normal for the young hunter.
He kept trying to dote on the pup, cutting before Phil and making the Pilot annoyed.
Of course, Techno should’ve realized that Tommy would use his pup-calls on all of them. Once he heard that small whine of Caretaker , not towards Phil, he knew.
What a devious pup he is, sparking Wilbur’s first brood.
Techno curls himself into the corner, far away from Phil and Wilbur’s fight. The hunter is sure to lose, he can already tell. Wilbur didn’t grow in a regularly sized pod and is unfamiliar with many points of challenging and pod combat. He may be younger and with more energy, but Phil has experience.
Tommy writhes in his hands, crying and whimpering with every harsh snarl and painful keen that floats across the pool to them.
Techno rumbles, attempting to soothe the pup. He’d make sure Tommy would be safe. It was pod law to keep pups from such things. Safe with neutral third parties; protectors that will watch over them.
It made Techno’s blood boil when Wilbur closed his hands around Tommy, trying to hold him during Phil’s challenge. That’s not safe or good.
Tommy sobs, scratching at his hands, pulling Techno from his thoughts. He’s doing his duty. The pup is safe with him now. He purrs and rubs Tommy’s back, but all it does is make the pup hiccup and thrash even more. He frowns. He needs Tommy to calm down.
Phil had shown him a trick once with a much younger Wilbur. The stubborn pup, at the time, refused to calm down and so with one deft movement, Techno’s long-time friend had caught the wayward mer and pressed his throat into the soft space between his thumb and forefinger. Just enough pressure to make the youngling go limp and listen .
Tommy’s even smaller than Wilbur was then, but it’s the same technique.
Techno guides Tommy into his palm and massages the back of his neck. Just a bit and-
The cries die near instantly. The pup melts into confused lethargy in his palm and Techno rumbles happily.
There. That’s good.
Wilbur wails in the distance. Tommy twitches, but Techno holds his head in place gently but firmly and purrs, enticing Tommy to do the same.
After a brief shudder and whine, the pup coos a stuttering response.
Techno smiles. In the distance, Phil howls in victory. He uncoils, swimming out to meet his Pilot halfway.
Phil’s thinned pupils blink open the instant he recognizes Tommy. “Mine-mine-mine,” he chants, tail twitching with want. With need . “My pup. My victory. Give, give, give-”
“Patience,” Techno rolls his eyes affectionately. He opens his palms, transferring the limp, instinct-muddled young pup from his arms and securely placing him into Phil’s. “There, Pilot. He’s all yours.”
Phil chirps; high-pitched excitement that belied his age. With an easy nudge, he scoops Tommy into the same hold, putting just a light amount of pressure on his throat to make him listen and stay docile.
“Pup,” he coos, scratching the back of Tommy’s neck. “Pup, answer.”
Tommy twitches, the ring of his iris stretching and expanding. “I- I-”
“Pup,” Phil lowers his head, blowing ticklish bubbles against his back. “Answer,” he commands.
The pup whimpers. “C-caretaker?”
A pleased trill. “Yes, good.” Phil calls for the pup again. A second of hesitation, then: “Caretaker.” Tommy’s eyes slide half shut, a soft rumble in his throat.
Phil beams proudly. “Yes, I’m your Caretaker. And you're my pup.” He continues his cooing, waiting for the meek, shy peeps with a joyful purr; teaching the right way. He curls around Tommy, folding over his caudal fin to hide the small mer against his chest.
“Techno,” he hums, during a brief lapse of call and response. “Bring me my other pup. He’s learned his lesson by now.”
Techno nods sharply, slipping silently away from his brooding partner.
It only took a moment to locate Wilbur. The young adult lay in a corner, arms raised over his head and whimpering a broken apology on repeat. Sorry-please-don’t hurt-sorry. Techno huffs. He’s fine. Even in Phil’s frenzy, he’d been more than gentle. A brawl with another mer would’ve resulted in spilled blood; guts strewn across the tank to warn against any other wannabe challengers.
With his son, his birth-pup, this is simply a harsher-than-normal punishment. Wilbur’s tears can be easily soothed.
He rumbles to alert Wilbur to his approach. The blue scales on his flank flinch and his cries peter out into a mournful squeak.
Techno taps his spine and Wilbur twitches, breath getting faster. The Protector hums, laying his palm flat and stroking his podmate’s sail.
“ Calm. It’s me. You’re in no danger.”
“Techno?” he breathes, hard and ragged. “Phil… he- he- why? ”
“It’s no fault of yours. Brooding can consume the best of mer. Phil simply beat you for that claim.”
Wilbur stares unseeingly. “Brooding,” he mumbles. “Pup?”
“Not yours,” Techno says bluntly. Wilbur recoils with shock and hurt, face crumpling, just as the Protector knew it would. Best to tear the thorn out. Let it bleed if need be. He won’t get over it immediately, but with time all wounds scab and scar. Even emotional ones.
“No, no, no. But, he- I- my pup?”
“Calm,” Techno reminds him, settling his hand warningly just below the nape of his neck. “I’m going to take you back to Caretaker. You’re not in trouble any longer.”
Wilbur whines, digging his claws into the white pool floor and slowly dragging his body away. “No. No, no.”
Techno sighs. With a swift strike, he cuffs Wilbur’s neck, making him go limp and loose with a small yowl.
“Unfortunately,” he deadpans. “You don’t really have a choice.” He hefts Wilbur’s weight and turns, dragging the unruly adult back to his Caretaker for much-needed discipline.
Phil smiles as Techno tucks Wilbur into his side; transferring a hand to lay on the back of his neck, so Techno can pull away and watch.
“Pup,” Phil greets, tilting Wilbur’s face into the crook of his shoulder. “Shh. This is where you’re meant to be.” Wilbur whimpers, gills fanning as he heaves a large breath.
Hidden away, a small chirr: “Caretaker.” Tommy obediently responds.
Wilbur tenses, mouth opening-
Phil squeezes his neck, forcing his son to go boneless with an airy whine, and croons back the responding call, reestablishing himself as the Caretaker.
“Answer.” he thumbs Wilbur’s throat, drawing small, comforting circles, making Wilbur shudder. “Pup.”
“Caretaker,” Tommy bubbles from below. Wilbur twitches. “No-”
“Pup,” Phil repeats more forcibly. He purrs smugly as Tommy, drowned in the warm comfort of call and response, answers automatically. Wilbur jerks and peeps out a tiny, “Caretaker.”
“That’s right. My pups.”
“Caretaker,” Tommy sighs.
Wilbur wriggles, then falls still. “C-caretaker,” he acquiesces.
Phil croons, brushing his lips to his son’s forehead. “Yes. You’re too young for this kind of responsibility. I need to keep you safe. Cared for. Isn’t that right, pup ?”
Huge, dilated pupils stare blankly back. The shock of fighting, then immediately being cared for has struck him deeply. In tandem, he and his new brother reply in kind.
“Caretaker.”
“My pod,” Phil sings, wrapping his arms tighter around his two boys. His sons. His pups and younglings.
Techno wraps around all three of them, now four, and sighs in contentedness. Their pod.
They will never be separated again.
Tommy gnaws at his lip, hovering at Phil’s hip. Every so often the large Caretaker glances down at him, purring when it’s another minute he doesn’t squirm away. Phil strokes his tail, claws light and ticklish across his belly.
Tommy peeps and jerks back, facing away, so his stomach isn’t so easy to reach and presses into Phil’s hide.
A pleased croon vibrates into his ribs. Heat floods to Tommy’s face. He picks at green emerald scales and tries to ignore the new well of joy that ripples in his chest.
He’s been fighting against it so hard…
“Pup,” Phil says with a smile. He doesn’t even croon or call instinctively. Just a simple word. That’s him. That’s him .
Caretaker brims on his lips and Tommy buries his face into the scaly hide further in embarrassment.
Selfishly, he wants them. It feels good to want them.
He’s full from constant contact. Close to bursting. They answer every call, give every touch and pet he could ever want or need.
They’re the best pod he’s ever had.
Tommy blinks, tensing.
Oh.
But his pod is supposed to be…
Would it hurt Sam, he wonders, if he’s realized he likes this pod better?
He doesn’t want to hurt Sam.
Phil nudges him forward. They’re moving now. A slow lap around the pool again as Techno and Wilbur join them, snapping into place with so much ease. A unit. It seemed impossible to imagine them existing outside one another.
His chest burns. How would that feel, being so close to someone day in and day out, where he could move in perfect harmony with them?
He flaps his tail, putting on a burst of speed. Just enough to snag the edge of Phil’s giant fin and ride the bigger mer’s acceleration.
Phil glances back, brow lifted in surprise and coos. Tommy nearly lets go, on instinct. Instead, he clings tighter. They’re his . His in a way his human pod never was and never could be.
This time he’ll make sure they never leave him.
“ Sam ,” Tommy breathes.
His Caretaker – former Caretaker shuffles his feet. It feels like forever since Tommy last saw him. It felt like no time at all. His gut churned nervously. His heart soared with excitement.
The five of them stare at each other. Tommy’s new pod. His human pod. Nobody moves an inch.
“Hey,” Sam says. The soft wash of water on sunlit sand. Still comforting despite… everything. Tommy trills gently, swimming closer.
Techno rumbles. “ Careful pup ,” he narrows his eyes. He doesn’t hold out a hand to stop him though.
Not yet.
Tommy pauses. “Sam?” he calls. Suddenly human words feel so tricky in his mouth. Too sharp; they cut and sting his tongue. Growl too ferociously. He sinks back into sea-speech a second later, anxieties soothing as he coos.
Sam crams his hands into his pockets. He still hasn’t shaved. His sit in disarray. It makes Tommy sad, seeing him not take care of himself.
“Hey, Tommy.”
He clicks, inclining his head to show he’s listening.
Sam’s throat bobs once, twice. With a sigh, he sits on the pavement, legs crossed, back bent; spine heavy. “Let’s talk.”
Tommy flicks his tail and bites his lip. He can feel that deep rift reopening; a scab picked open bleeding sluggishly now, soon to broaden into a channel, then a river and ocean-
This isn’t going to be like last time. He’ll make sure of it. From the dark melancholy that soured Sam’s joyful nature, Tommy was certain he wasn’t the only one.
He glances back, meeting Phil’s crystal eyes, hovering close but not touching, and peeps a quiet request for permission.
A blink. Caretaker looks long and silent at Sam, utterly neutral and still. For a moment Tommy worries he’ll refuse. But then he huffs and nudges Tommy forward.
“Do what you need to pup. We’ll be right here waiting.”
Tommy makes a quick trill of gratitude and approaches, passing Techno who grumbles but stays away from the edge. Away where he won’t threaten or scare Sam. Tommy nods at him thankfully and paddles to the edge.
Years of instinct almost have him pull himself out of the water, but he stops himself only marginally – claws gripping the warm cement and staring at Sam. Unbidden flashes of memories of betrayal and rules: no grabbing, no reaching, no touching . With a low whine, he sinks back into place; only showing his eyes above the ripples.
Sam stretches his mouth into a strained smile. Tommy doesn’t like it. He tears his gaze away, staring at the high, metal fence behind the human’s shoulder.
“I’ve really missed you, Toms. Really, really missed you. I know you didn’t believe me last time, but I am sorry. I never meant… Well. Nothing ever goes as expected, you know?”
Tommy blows bubbles through his nose. What?
“You’ve bonded with them.” Sam’s smile softens, becoming more real . He runs a hand through the wild mess that has become his hair. “You’ve got a family now.”
Hot indignation burns in Tommy’s core. “ We were family!” he snaps. “You’re the one who left me. What did I do? What did I do Sam ?”
He hiccups: a sad, needy chirp. He thought he was done. Why does it still hurt? Why? Why-?
“Tommy,” Sam’s voice cracks. “I-”
Phil emerges from the deep, big hands encompassing Tommy, supporting his hurt, his pain, and cooing comfortingly.
“I am here. I am here. I will never leave you. My little one. Never alone.”
Tommy clings to his Caretaker. Sobs crashing into calls. Together they rock, a soft humming filling the broken pieces inside him.
When he doesn’t feel so glass-thin, so easy to shatter, he turns back to Sam.
“I loved you.” His lip wobbled. “You were my everything.”
Tears roll unrestricted down Sam’s cheeks. “And you were mine . You were my son the moment you opened your eyes and looked up at me. I’ll do anything for you, Tommy. I’m glad you have a pod. A better one. I’m human. I’ve never been equipped to care for you forever.
“I understand why you are angry. I understand you are sad and hurt and so am I. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. We all love you still. Me most of all.”
He takes a step back. “I love you,” he repeats. “I love you, Tommy. I hope you live a long, happy life. Goodbye.”
Tommy is stunned. He watches silently, wide-eyed as Sam leaves for the last time. Gone forever.
He doesn’t open his mouth to say goodbye in the end. He’s not sure how to.
Tommy gazes out into the ocean in wonder, fins fanning lightly as he tries to truly grasp its size.
A fish from outside darts in, peering at the four of them gathered at the entrance before thinking better of it and turning back. Disappearing amongst the rocks that built up the shoreline where the facility is built.
Techno is the first to cross the invisible line that separated Tommy’s home to the one beyond. The giant pink Protector waves his tail, scanning the horizon. He inches forward. Tiny increments until he is free. He raises his head, scenting the currents and nods.
“ Safe, ” he rumbles, the water vibrating around Tommy comfortingly. No danger. His pod is with him.
Wilbur doesn’t waste a second. He zooms out past Techno’s still guard and chirps as he flies into acrobatic spins and twists, catching a handful of sand, letting it stream behind him like confetti in his jubilation.
Techno barks at him to stay close, and the hunter rolls his eyes, sidling up close as the two of them turn their eyes back to Phil. And Tommy, in conjunction.
So close. Tommy can taste the freshness of the salt water. His gills expand in a way they never have before and he stares, fascinated at all the little signs of life. Small clumps of seaweed waving lazily. Tiny fish. Was that- a crab?
It reflects the sky. Gentle, light blue. Warm; the currents stroking his scales. The same color as his eyes.
Phil coos, hovering above, waiting for him to make the first move.
“Are you ready, pup?” he asks.
Tommy curls up into his Caretaker’s stomach. Where he’s safe and shielded. “It’s… so big,” he breathes. There’s no protective walls for him out there. Just miles and miles of nothing.
He peeps nervously, grabbing the edge of Phil’s fin.
“I don’t like it.”
Phil cups a hand beneath him, “I know,” he whispers. “It’s very scary going out for the first time, but we’re right here. Stay close to me. I’ll keep you safe.”
Phil doesn’t tell lies. Tommy swallows.
They’d told him they’ll find a new home. A new reef for him to grow up in. Where the water is warm, and fish are plenty, and the coral protects them from bigger predators. He’ll love it.
All he has to do is take this leap.
Tommy glances up past Phil’s flank. It’s hard to see above the rippling waves at the top of the water, but he thinks he can see his old pod. Sam, Ponk, Quackity, Puffy. So many more who loved him and cared for him. They’re all here.
He inhales and begins to swim forward slowly. Phil croons and sings into the sea. A new member of their pod. A pup opening its eyes for the first time. Returning home finally.
Finally. Finally.
Tommy’s still trying to wrap his emotions around Sam and the unintentional hurt he’d dealt. But he has more than enough time to sort it out. He has a pod to guide him through it.
Perhaps he’ll return someday.
That’s a long time off, however. For now, Tommy swims into the sea, surrounded by loving pod, and smiles.