Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life wasn’t fair. Nothing about it was fair. 

For a long time, you weren’t sure you wanted any part in it. You didn’t really think you belonged anywhere. As time went on, your familial relationships became rockier. It seemed like it would be better off if you were gone. 

It was vacation near the beach. You were happy… but you knew it wouldn’t last. After an argument with a family member, you finally made your decision. 

It was time to leave. 

It wouldn’t be hard to find a siren at this time of night. This area was notorious for them. So notorious, in fact, even during the daytime, it was heavily recommended that any beach-goers wear the necessary protective equipment. There were specially designed ear plugs and ear pieces that could disable the luring song of a siren. All the street signs near this area warned any walkers that they should never be alone. 

You wore a pair of earbuds as you approached the beach, having walked all this way from the place your family was crashing. 

As your feet approached the sand, you stopped and looked up. You didn’t spot anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something—or someone—out there, waiting for you. So, you move closer. Slower now, trying to ignore the pleading voice in the back of your mind. Your decision was made and your mind was set. There wasn’t any turning back. 

To become one with nature… To finally belong somewhere in death. That’s what you wanted. 

As you approached the shore, you stopped as you noticed something. A long, dark figure, just up ahead. Your eyes traveled up the monstrous figure, meeting the single glowing eye of… a siren, no doubt. A mermaid would never look as hauntingly beautiful as that. 

The siren looked to be a cecaelia, you noticed, with tentacles curled around its skeletal paws, which were planted on the rock it perched. Your gaze traveled to its chest; you had to rip your gaze up to refrain from being disrespectful, meeting its gaze. The single glowing eye—appearing to be some kind of eye socket—glowed a bright, lustrous teal color. That light alone almost coaxed you in. 

You gulped as you stood there. She made no movement, she remained perfectly still. Even her appendages held still, which likely had brains of their own, given what you knew about octopus anatomy. She stayed perfectly still, a great distance between you and her. 

You had to close that gap. But if you were really doing this, you had to commit. You took out your two ear pieces and threw them on the ground, watching them bounce off the pale sand. You made eye contact with the beast again, almost challenging her. Daring her. Go ahead: sing your song, lure me in, drown me, then eat me. 

But nothing. 

You were only greeted by the sound of distant crickets, of the soft, crashing waves, which greeted the shore tenderly, lapping at the sand in lust. 

She didn’t move. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to shout at her, but you clamped your mouth shut. There was no way a siren like that wasn’t planning on killing you the moment you got too close. Some of them liked to play with their food. Some of them liked to earn the trust of humans, only to push them under the roaring waves when they got too close or let their guard slip. It was their nature. Most of them, anyway, and this one surely was no different. She was waiting, patiently, almost like she had done this countless times before. 

How many people had come to this spot, hoping to find a siren and drown? How many people had she sang to, coaxed them in, only to suffocate them? How many people had seen that stunning dark body, shimmery like an exotic black pearl, and lusted for her ravenously, only for her to devour them? 

You almost longed to hear her voice. To be sung to sweetly before you met a grizzly end. 

No matter. Your mind was stone. 

You shook your head and grimaced. You moved toward her, taking confident strides. 

No turning back. 

She watched. As you moved closer, you noticed a glowing teal eyelight, something you had seen in monsters before. Mesmerizing. Yet, she was nothing you’d seen before. 

Maybe she would grace you with those beautiful eyes as she asphyxiated you. 

Only a few meters now. You paused. That pleading voice in your head grew stronger, now that you were closer to death itself. 

Drowning would be a painful way to die. 

Your friends… They would miss you. They’d never hear from you again. 

Family members that cared for you and rely on you, they would be devastated. 

… 

You shook your head. You looked up at the siren, whose head was now lowered into the crook of her neck as she stared. Her tentacles seemed to follow their own minds now, twitching at the edge of the rock in anticipation. Yet she didn’t speak, if she could. Sirens weren’t supposed to speak, only sing. Not that humans knew much. They always thought they did, but they didn’t. 

“I’m sorry,” you croaked nervously. Tears pricked your eyes. “This was a mistake. I don’t want to die.” 

You missed the way her eyelight dilated before it shrank as you turned away. 

You could feel that cold, calculating gaze on your back as you moved away from the shore. You didn’t move as fast as you should, but your mind practically screamed at you to move faster. 

And you looked back. 

She was hunched now, one clawed hand closer to the bottom of the rock than the other. More tentacles curled around the rock, twitching and swaying furiously as she glared at you. It was hard to make it out, but that eyelight was shrunk to a prick. You could almost hear some sort of hissing sound. 

Then you looked away, turning your back again. Your body stopped when it heard a voice. A singing voice. A Luring Song. 

It was like your brain was going numb as soothing euphoria moved over your body like calm waves before the storm. You couldn’t stop yourself from turning back around, body moving at the will of the siren’s voice. She sang so beautifully and calmly. A chill ran up your spine as you moved back towards her, stumbling on your feet. You’d heard recordings of siren’s songs; of course, they didn’t have the effect, but this song… It was wildly different. Maybe that was just the song talking. 

You could only think about her. Only her. The way her spine curved as she sang with her chest, a hand placed at her clavicle as the other reached out to you, beckoning. Her face contorted beautifully as she sang, each note a lullaby drifting you like a stray piece of wood at sea. 

Before you knew it, you were scrambling on the wet rock which she perched. Halfway, you slipped, but she caught you, a tentacle curled tightly around your midsection. It almost snapped you out of it. Almost. The curled appendage hoisted you up, placing your back against her chest. Your head lolled, bracing against soft wet skin. Her arms wrapped around you as tentacles curled around your body. One coiled around your leg, its tip tracing your ankle. 

Her song lulled in your ears as she sang softly until she stopped. One of her hands traced your scalp gently, making your sensations tingle as you roused. 

A gasp entered your body as your eyes blew wide. You squirmed, but the appendages surrounding your form tightened in retaliation as the siren released a hiss in her chest. “You thought you could come into my territory, challenge me, and turn away like I’m nothing?” she spat into your ear. You felt a lodge in your throat as the hand on your head poked your neck, her claws tracing its sides. Her touch felt like lighting. She chuckled, and you felt it as your head bobbed against her chest. “No. You long for this,” she purred, her breath hot against your ear. Everything else about her was cold: her claws, her tentacles, her chest… All but her silky air. “You’re mine,” she whispered. Her hand moved to your chest under your shirt where she placed a hand over your heart. Her teeth traced your ear delicately as she cooed, “Your soul yearns to join me at the bottom of the sea where you belong. You will be perfect.” She rubbed her thumb over your clavicle as she drew back her hand. 

“Please,” you begged, but you didn’t know what you were begging for. “I don’t want to die.” She rolled your pearl necklace between her fingers as you spoke, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. 

“But you must die,” she whispered, “and you shall.” 

Suddenly, you were greeted with ice cold water as you plunged. In a whirlwind, bubbles sprouted around you as water filled your throat and entered your lungs. It was probably the most painful experience in your life. It felt like it was drawing on endlessly as you flail your arms. You heard her laughter reverberate around you in the water as she tugged on your ankle with a tentacle, refusing to let you get air. If her laughter was anything to go by, she enjoyed this. She even slipped and let you get air, but only for a moment as you plunged back under. This time, she didn’t let you taste the air again. Perhaps she was impatient as she watched the light dim from your eyes. 

You’re mine. 

You will be perfect.

Chapter Text

Tired. You were tired. 

Everything hurts. Your head felt like it was swimming, your stomach felt like there were fish swimming around inside it, and you felt like you were floating weightlessly and endlessly. 

The sound of gentle waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears. Groaning, you managed to open your eyes blearily. You couldn’t see very well, you couldn’t see anything clearly yet, but you were waking up. 

“Mmmm,” you mumbled. You lift your hand to scratch your head, trying to remember what happened. Everything seemed like a blur. 

You heard an unfamiliar voice. You lifted your head off… the sand?!? Pieces of sand stuck to your cheek and chin as you pushed yourself up. Confused, you looked back up to see who was approaching you. You blinked your eyes, trying to clear your vision. Just in front of you was a blurry figure. She exclaimed, “My God! Are you okay, ma’am?!” 

You rubbed your eyes with your fist. You tried to speak, but all you could let out was a croak. You grimaced, trying to speak again as you held your throat, but words didn’t escape. 

The woman was by your side by now, though she seemed cautious. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m wearing my protective siren gear. If you could just follow me, I can—” 

As she spoke, you tried to pull yourself out of the water. Your lower half felt heavier and you flopped to the ground. When you looked to see what was the matter, it was easy to identify what the problem was: you didn’t even have legs anymore. Your lower half was of some kind of fish, perhaps an eel, but you didn’t have time to think about that as you let out a screech. You covered your mouth, back laying against the ground as your breath quickened. You looked up at the sky, head feeling heavy as the sun was starting to rise. It was early. 

“What’s wrong?!” she asked. You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing her take a couple steps back. She wondered, “… Are you a siren or a mermaid?” You opened your eyes again, trying to speak, but nothing came out. “It doesn’t seem like you know what’s going on. Perhaps you’re missing your memories! I’m sorry, but I can’t take off my protective equipment if that’s the case. Even if you were a mermaid, I’d keep it on. Sirens pass through here quite frequently!” she explained to you. “This is my lighthouse. I work to make sure ships stay out of siren territory,” she added. She shook her head, waving her hands at you as you tried to pull yourself up, only to flop onto your stomach, your tail smacking loudly against the water. “Here. Let me get you something to eat! Can you show me your teeth real quick?” 

Show her your teeth?! You scowled but complied as you opened your mouth, revealing sharp incisors and canines. You traced them with your finger curiously, flinching at how sharp they were as you clamped your mouth shut, covering your mouth in embarrassment as you lowered your head. 

“My, you’re a predator all right. Most likely a siren, at that… Eels are carnivores,” she noted. Your scowl deepened. What did she know?? You were HUMAN. You weren’t a siren. Cutting into your thoughts, she chirped, “Be right back!” 

You groaned as you laid there in the sand. You flipped your tail in the water, unsure if you were attracting attention to yourself. It was awkward, laying down with a tail that moved horizontally rather than vertically. Then again, most fish didn’t “lay down,” except for mammals such as dolphins and seals. You sighed, covering your face with your hands, wracking your brain for an explanation which it refused to give. 

“I’m back!” the woman chirped. You looked up, blinking. She wore a little blue scarf and matching blue gloves and boots, along with a charming gray rain jacket. She held two buckets in her hands, dropping them on the ground next to you. In each bucket, there was fish; you could smell the fish before you looked inside. It wasn’t like you could identify them until you peered into each bucket. It appeared to be a bucket of salmon and a bucket of some other fish you couldn’t identify. 

“I don’t know what you like, so I brought you some mackerel and salmon!” she chirped, squatting down on her knees. “You should probably eat outside of the water. Your splashing might attract predators.” 

You groaned as you tugged yourself out of the water, flailing to regain balance without knocking over the nearest bucket. 

She squinted at you as she asked, “You’re not injured, are you? You seem rather disorientated.” 

You shrugged helplessly. The woman hummed. “I’ve never been this close to a siren before. I probably shouldn’t be,” she confessed. “But you don’t seem well. Maybe you can try to seduce me later, that will show that you’re healthy again!” 

You scrunch your nose and tilted your head at those words. What??? 

She laughed, covering her mouth. “I’m sorry! That was a bad joke.” 

You shook your head. Perhaps working alone on a small island maintaining a lighthouse did something to her head. You looked into the buckets. Salmon or mackerel… You went with what was familiar, grabbing one of the salmon with your hands, which you realized were now webbed between your fingers as you scowled. You sniffed the salmon. It almost felt like lights and colors greeted your brain and you flinched at all the stimulation. Your sense of smell had never been so keen before. 

And the woman. She smelled like salt, the ocean, and of soggy wood. 

If you were a siren now—which was a crazy thought to begin with—you would be able to eat raw meat, right? You gulped nervously as you tried to take a bite with the fish in your hands, straight through the scales. Your teeth crunched through what felt like bones and you immediately jerked your head back. You never had such a strong bite before. But the flavors… It was so rich. Raw salmon tasted great for humans, but as a siren, it was even tastier. 

Soon enough, your hands were being used as dinner plates as you devoured the fish in your hands. Blood was all over your hands and it dripped down past your chin into the sand. In seconds, it was mostly gone, save for the head and spine. 

“Wow. You must be very hungry!” the woman chirped. 

You nodded eagerly as you dug your clawed hand back into the salmon bucket to devour another as quickly as you had the previous. You went through another fish after that, but not nearly as ravenously as the first or second. You licked your fingers clean, noting your longer tongue that could reach to your messy chin. 

“Well. You’re fed, so you’re way less likely to try and kill me now,” she joked. You scrunch your nose at her. “Joking!” she exclaimed as she waved a hand at you. She brushed herself off as she stood up. “Well, I suppose you can get back to the ocean when you’re ready, eel.” She smiled down at you, brown hair practically glowing in the light of dawn. 

You nodded, ringing your wrists anxiously as you glanced at the waves. Your tail was feeling dry, so you awkwardly shifted your lower end back into the water. You didn’t sink further as you looked back at the woman, who was now holding her buckets of fish. She motioned at you to go in as she assured, “Take your time.” With that, she turned away and headed back to her lighthouse further up. 

Well. Sitting here beached wasn’t helping you, that was for sure. 

You took in a breath before you pushed yourself under the waves, cold water greeting your skin. Your shirt was missing, but your bra was still attached and it felt heavy against your chest, but there was no way you were going to take it off without finding a replacement first. Swimming around naked likely wasn’t ideal right now. 

There was a lot of sand. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. But there was also plants, like seaweed, and there were a few rocks scattered about. Just up ahead you could see a sunken ship. Ironic, considering you were right next to a lighthouse. Or maybe that sunken ship was the reason they put one here? 

It didn’t seem like there was any particular rock large enough to sink such a ship. A shudder went down your spine when you remembered the lighthouse keeper’s words: “Sirens pass through here quite frequently!”

You take in another breath through the gills on your neck—greeted by an odd, itchy sensation because of the salt—and dove deeper into the water. You struggled to get the hang of your new tail, finding it was easier to rock the side of your hips to spur a good sideways motion in the tail. 

Fortunately, that lighthouse keeper was nice enough to give you a full meal. Otherwise you would have had a shorter time to learn how to hunt, and you knew you had to figure that out sooner rather than later. You couldn’t rely on generosity, not in the ocean. 

You gulped as you felt the necklace around your neck. It was tightened like a noose, it was no longer loose like it was supposed to be, and no matter how hard you tugged it wouldn’t break or come off. The pearl was still attached, oddly enough. 

You looked back at your tail, trying to discern what kind of eel you were. Your tail was a yellowish-green from what you could tell, with ripples along the spine. 

You weren’t familiar with how eels hunted. Were they nocturnal? You certainly didn’t feel nocturnal; though, you did feel tired, maybe it was after everything that happened. You couldn’t be sure. 

So you swam towards the rocks, noticing fish swimming about. They immediately swam away in groups as you got close. Fish weren’t stupid, they knew you were a predator. 

You grimaced. This was going to take awhile. 

You had spent a few hours learning how to maneuver your body, attempting to sneak on any unsuspecting fish. Any time you seemed to catch one off guard, you’d lurch, but you just weren’t fast enough and the fish got away. Your fingers never even traced them. 

A growl escaped your throat. A feral growl. 

“Having trouble there?” a voice asked. It wasn’t English, but somehow you understood it. The language was pronounced with growling and chirping. You whipped around, the fins on your spine flaring subconsciously. Perhaps that meant you felt threatened and you were trying to make yourself seem bigger. 

Just in front of you was some kind of mermaid or siren dolphin. You couldn’t be sure which. She was smiling at you, her teeth rather toothy. 

“Hello,” you managed to say, your voice sounding like a chirp in whatever language you were using. 

The dolphin’s dark eyes glittered. “You must be new around here,” she noted. “Here. Let me show you around.” After she spoke she turned to look at another distant dolphin, making whistling and clicking noises that you didn’t understand. It sounded like a dolphin language. 

“W-Wait,” you managed to interject. “You don’t have to. I’ll just be on my way.” As you spoke, you reared backward awkwardly, your tail curling to allow such a movement. 

“No! But we insist!” the dolphin cooed, the glitter in their eyes gleaming maliciously. “After all, we’re mermaids, the sweet tongues of the sea. We should show our new siren some hospitality!” After they said that last word, suddenly they lunged at you, clawed hands reaching to grab you. 

You squeaked in alarm, managing to duck and corner around the rock. Your mind was running at about a mile a minute as you frantically reached a nearby hiding spot you took notice of earlier. “Stop!” you shrieked as you squeezed into the crevice, just before the dolphin could snatch you up. 

The dolphin let out some kind of chitter. You couldn’t discern whether it was part of its language or just her laughter. You watched as she seemed to push herself off from the ground. For a moment, you wondered if she was leaving you alone, but you didn’t dare peek. You knew better. You were right, in one aspect: when one dolphin left to get air, the other one swooped in to torture you next. They took turns doing this to you as they dug in the sand with their webbed hands, reaching for you with their outstretched arms. They clicked and whistled amongst each other, their toothy grins having never faded. 

Their hole grew deeper and deeper. You shuddered as you pressed yourself against the wall of the crevice. One of their clawed hands nearly scratched against your scaly skin, making your heart beat faster as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

This was the end. Dolphins truly were evil tormentors. 

Just then, you heard a noise. It sounded like something large and fast torpedoed through the water, barreling straight into the dolphin that was currently reaching into your hole. You heard a squeal—perhaps of dolphin language—followed by shrieks and chitters. You watched as a whirlwind of motion occurred, spouting bubbles all around the entrance of your hiding spot. You smelled blood. You remained still and motionless as you held your breath. It felt like anxiety was woven into your chest like a coil. 

It seemed like the dolphins’ chitters and squeals got quieter and quieter. Perhaps they left you alone, but that only left you wondering what must have attacked them and scared them off. Whatever managed to do that must have been an apex predator of some sort. It was odd, though, it seemed like both dolphins remained alive. Why would a predator attack dolphins and proceed not to kill one of them? 

You didn’t yet receive answers, but you did suddenly see a pair of glowing eyes peering into your crevice. You hissed quietly from your teeth as you pushed yourself further in your corner, the fins on your spine flaring much like before as your claws dug into the sand. 

Those eyes were so bright. The right pupil was an unnatural red color. It seemed to be the face of a human… The upper body of a human, at least. 

Her eyes flitted down to your neck before making eye contact again, her seemingly angry expression softening after having looked down. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “You’re with me,” she growled in the language familiar to you. 

“With you?” you questioned. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” 

Your savior seemed to awkwardly shift her weight on her hands. You caught a glimpse of her large tail swishing behind her, heavy and slow, but powerful for sure. “Yes. We belong to the same siren,” she explained. She offered you a hand much larger than yours. “Here. I’ll take you to her.” 

Although your body relaxed, you were still visibly tense. “What? No. I’m not stupid. This is a siren’s trick,” you spat. “I may be new to this goddamn ocean, but this isn’t my first day alive, either.” 

She scowled, brows furrowing as her lip curled. “Just take my hand. Please. I need you to trust me. I could have left those dolphins to dig you up and kill you instead,” she told you. Although her voice sounded rough, there seemed to be a hint of desperation in her tone. 

It was hard to argue with that. Why fight off dolphins without killing them just to feed on a skinny eel? 

You let out a sigh, bubbles filtering from your nose. “Fine…” You finally obliged, taking her hand hesitantly. 

She gripped your hand firmly as she pulled you out of the crevice. The moment you were out, she let go of you, much to your relief. 

You got a good look at her. Large chest—scratch that, large frame—broad shoulders, adorned with nicks and scratches along her body, which trailed down to her shark half. She also had some kind of black and white scarf around her neck. Why someone would wear such a silly thing underwater was beyond you. She was a siren, no doubt.

You were also a siren now. Though, that did leave you to wonder: how friendly were sirens with each other? Based on your recent interaction with mermaids, you could only surmise that mermaids and sirens weren’t on the best of terms with one another. It made sense.

You gulped. “A shark,” you managed to utter. 

She nodded, but didn’t respond. Instead, she changed the subject. “When were you turned?” she asked, her brows still knit together with a frown on her lips. Was she anxious, or did she just have chronic RBF? 

You rubbed the back of your neck. “I don’t know, I just woke up this morning on a beach,” you answered. “I’m sorry, I—” 

She blinked, seeming a little surprised. “I found you early, then,” she interjected. She shook her head briefly. “There’s no need to be sorry. Your memories will come back to you, although you might not ever remember your old life.” 

“My old life…” 

It looked like she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself, like she didn’t want to share too much with you. “Back on track,” she decided to say. 

You nodded. Brows pinched, you asked, “You said… You said I ‘belong’ to the same siren as you?” 

She nodded curtly. “Yes. Here, wrap around me,” she directed, tapping where she wanted you to grab. She sidled her tail over to you, expecting you to do as she said. 

And what choice did you have? 

You sighed again, wrapping your arms around the base of her tail as instructed. 

“Snug?” 

Gruffly, you affirm, “Snug.” 

Unenthusiastic, she replied, “Great. Let’s go.” With one powerful surge of her tail, you were off. 

Chapter Text

You didn’t really know where you were going or where the shark was taking you. 

She was fast, and soon, you were traveling over the undersea equivalent of a barren wasteland. It was sand outstretched as far as you could see, at least for a little bit given her speed, and you got the sense that your vision wasn’t as clear as it should be. The scarf was a bit of a hassle to swim with, at least it was for you as you were attached to her back. 

Neither of you really said anything. It was an awkward, tense silence. At least, it was for you. You couldn’t be too sure if the other siren felt the same way. 

The shark occasionally slowed to a stop, you weren’t entirely sure why, though it seemed to be that she was registering her surroundings. It wasn’t like she was looking for prey or predators as she stopped—she did that as they swam—but more so like she was tuning into a sound only she could hear. After a moment or two, she would fix her direction and keep swimming onward. 

Eventually, you straightened your voice. Using the undersea language you somehow inherently knew, you asked, “So, what’s your name, shark?” 

She grunted. “Cross,” she answered, almost reluctantly. 

Your arms slipped for a brief second, but you quickly fixed your posture. She glanced back at you incredulously with her red eye before she looked onward again. 

It seemed like you were rapidly approaching some kind of kelp forest. That was, until, the shark began to cautiously slow down to a stop before entering. You looked up, your gaze following the kelp, which seemed to go up all the way to the ocean’s surface ominously. It looked so dark up ahead. 

Cross grunted as she released your arms from around her hip and swam gently to the side. She didn’t make eye contact as she glanced over the kelp forest anxiously. 

“What’s wrong?” you found yourself asking. 

“I didn’t think this part through,” she admitted. She swam over to the kelp, motioning for you to stay. Cautiously, she pried some of it apart and peered in before she looked back at you. “Don’t touch any of the kelp,” she warned as she motioned for you to follow her. “I’ll move the blades out of the way, but you have to be careful not to touch anything. Understand?” 

As you swam closer, you listened, nodding. You weren’t sure about this. If a giant shark was anxious about this kelp forest, you weren’t too keen on any of it either. She seemed to know what she was doing, though. 

“Take your time, make sure not to touch any of it,” she assured you as she already began clearing a path large enough for you to slip into. Obediently, you followed her through the kelp. As you went forward, it immediately became obvious why you couldn’t touch any of the blades: anything touching it was grabbed by the kelp and appeared to be strangled. You gulped anxiously as you began to regret following the shark into the kelp forest, but it was too late to go back now. Not without her help. 

“Are you sure about this?” you questioned. You weren’t sure what else to ask. 

“I’m sure,” she affirmed. “The siren is this way.” 

You frowned as you furrowed your brows. “Why are you taking me to her?” There were so many questions to ask, but none of them yet formed into words. “I don’t understand what’s going on.” 

Cross grunted as she replied, “Not right now. I’m trying to focus.” 

You refrained from rolling your eyes, even if she couldn’t see. 

It didn’t take nearly as long as you thought it would for the last bit of kelp to be parted. You almost dared to ask why there wasn’t as much kelp as there should be, but you were caught off guard by all the colors you were glimpsing. So much coral… So many plants… So many glittering fish. 

You were so distracted. You felt your tail brush up against something, and in your panic, you swam forward, only to be tugged back. You let out an alarmed yelp, turning to face the problem. A small piece of kelp wrapped around your tail. Immediately, you hear Cross bark, “Stop! Don’t move. Don’t struggle.” 

You barely register her words, but you stop. The kelp is carefully creeping over your tail, but it’s slowing to a stop. The only problem is that it seems like other nearby blades of kelp are also creeping towards you. 

“Hold still,” she growled, although not at you. She approached the kelp and slipped a claw under a loose part. The blade tightened in response, but not before Cross could gain leverage. You could see the nervousness in her eyes, but it seemed like she might have been skilled in whatever she was doing. With her other hand, she brushed over the kelp gently, almost coaxing it. It loosened again before she used her claw to suddenly rip it off and she pushed you away with the free hand. You complied, swimming the other direction, letting out a breath that had buried itself in your chest. “There.” Cross let out a sigh, too. 

“How can you touch the kelp?” you questioned. Was it because she was a shark? That didn’t really make sense. 

Cross rubbed the back of her neck just above her scarf. “It has to do with our siren since she claimed me,” she explained with a scowl in her lip, like she was disgusted at the idea. 

You squinted your eyes and scowled in turn. “‘Claimed?’” you echoed. 

Cross glanced away before looking back at you, like she was forcing herself to have this conversation. She pulled down her scarf to reveal a necklace. Attached to it was some kind of golden heart-shaped locket. The necklace was tight around her neck, just like yours. Immediately, you reached for the pearl attached to your own neck, filled with something of sympathy. 

It looked like she was going to say something, but no words formed for a moment. She didn’t say anything as she pulled the scarf over her neck again and swam past you, grunting at you to follow. So you did. 

“Maybe… Maybe she doesn’t have to claim you,” she wondered aloud. She fiddled with her scarf as she swam slowly, seemingly for your sake. You swam past her to show that you could swim quicker than that, and she picked up the pace wordlessly. 

“I… I don’t follow.” 

“I don’t know how to explain any of this,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Killer would be able to explain it better than I could, but she’s not a reliable source, and asking our siren isn’t an option. She’d know I’m up to something.” She scowled again. Cross shuddered as she added, “She always knows.” 

You grimaced. None of this sounded promising. You sighed, bubbles escaping your lips. “So, let me get this straight… She turned me into a siren. Then what?” 

“You’re now her siren,” she answered. 

“And that means…?” 

It looked like Cross was looking for proper words as she mulled it over. “There’s no better way to say it. You’re now her property, in a sense.” She squints her eyes as she thinks it over for a moment. “Maybe ‘spawn’ is a better way to put it. You’re not her property until she claims you.” She paused. “That’s why I managed to find you so quickly. She knew you would be a siren soon, so she sent us out to find you.” 

“‘Us?’” you asked. “Who? You, this ‘Killer’ guy, and…?” 

“Dust and Horror,” she clarified. You both swam around a large hill, and she led you further up the water to a larger hill covered in beautiful coral and seaweed. “This is a stupid idea, but keeping you in her territory might actually work. They won’t be looking for you here, of all places.” 

“Why are you doing this?” you blurted out. 

Cross seemed a little taken aback by the question. She parted some seaweed, revealing some kind of tunnel. Awkwardly, she responded, “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want to see anyone else serve under her. Not if I can help it.” 

“That’s what you’re doing? Is serving her? You follow her orders?” 

Cross nodded, still tense, but seeming like she was relieved you understood what was at stake. “The moment she claims you, all of your free will is gone,” she said. “I don’t want to see you forced to work for her. No one deserves that.” 

“And what about you?” you wondered as you swam to the tunnel but did not yet enter. It seemed large enough to fit Cross’s whole body, so perhaps she would enter first, or enter after you. Either way, you weren’t going in there alone. 

Cross lowered her head, looking at you seriously, her eyes somber. “There’s nothing you can do to save me. She turned me a long time ago, and found me when I was injured. That’s when she claimed me. There was nothing I could do, not that I understood her danger.” She shook her head abruptly. “Look. This is—was—my hiding place. I used to come here when I needed a break.” She swam into the tunnel, waiting for you to follow behind. Her tail was so big and long, you had to wait a minute just to get behind her. “You can live here. They won’t find you. At least, not if I can help it.” 

You furrowed your brows. A grim feeling hung over you with all this information. 

“So she turns you, finds you, claims you, and you live in servitude the rest of your life?” 

“Yes.” 

You hummed in thought. There were a lot of questions, and Cross seemed to become increasingly tense the more you asked regarding the subject. “What’s she like?” you asked. 

Cross stopped to glance back at you. “You don’t wanna know. Trust me,” she assured before she looked forward again and entered a large space. It was some kind of underground room. Light filtered in from a small hole, covered by coral. There was some kind of nest made of seaweed, it looked fresh, and it also seemed used. “Well. Here it is. My hiding spot.” She opened her arms, like she was presenting the place to you grandly. 

“Is that your nest?” you asked, approaching the large swad of seaweed. 

Blushing, Cross bashedly answered, “Yep… That’s it. I don’t keep much here. I don’t have much.” 

“I can’t imagine you do,” you replied as you made eye contact again. She looked down briefly, almost like a nod. 

“I’ll get you something to eat. I’m not allowed to feed outsiders, but…” She chuckled before finishing her thought. “I’m also supposed to be bringing you to our siren in the first place. I’ll get in big trouble if I’m caught having done this.” 

“You’re breaking all the rules then, huh?” you tried to joke. 

Cross nervously nodded. 

You shifted your tail in the water awkwardly, waiting for Cross to say something. She rubbed her elbow as she looked away. 

“So I just… stay here all day? Is that your solution?” 

Cross waited a moment before nodding slowly. “I’m sorry, but they’ll find you if you leave. Maybe once they think you’re dead and things cool off I can sneak you out of here.” 

You frowned. Part of you wondered how dangerous this territory really was, besides the kelp. Surely the kelp kept major predators out of the territory, and shouldn’t it be fine as long as you remain unseen? That requires gaining finer motor skills, you know this much, so for now you can comply and stay here while you work out your new body. 

Cross seemed to read your face and her brows furrowed as she glared at you. “You’re thinking about it. Here’s my advice: don’t.” She scowled as she pointed an accusing finger at you. “It’s not safe. Trust me.” 

You grumbled intelligible words under your breath. She doesn’t seem comforted by this, but shakes her head and doesn’t press on that any further. She sighs and explains, “If you see another eel, hide. If you can swim away without being seen, then do it, and hide here. If she smells you, though, it’s game over.” As she speaks, she gesticulates with her hands to emphasize the importance in this dialogue. “If you see any sharks, hide. Don’t do anything else. Just hide. Either you eventually swim away or I’ll find you and make sure they don’t see you.” She sucks in a breath. “Finally, if you see a barracuda, hide for him, too. He can see pretty well, but he can’t smell at all.” 

You blinked, a little taken aback by the information. “That’s very specific,” you mused. 

Cross nodded. “I’ve been around them long enough and I’ve noted their weaknesses and shortcomings. Killer—the eel—has poor eyesight, but she can smell pretty well. Not from a distance, but once she’s caught your scent, it’s over. Sharks, like Horror, naturally have good eyesight and sense of smell. That’s why my advice is just to hide, even though he’s blind in one eye. If they haven’t smelled you, they won’t find you. Hopefully you won’t ever meet Horror. He and I are usually the ones sent out to do hunting outside of her territory, so the chances of encountering him are way less,” she elaborates. “Dust—the barracuda—doesn’t seem to have anything wrong with him… physically.” She shudders as she seems to remember something. “I’m not exactly sure what purpose he serves, but Nightmare has him outside of the territory often. I know guarding her territory is part of it, though, so don’t try to leave without me here to help you.” 

“You guys don’t hunt here? But there’s plenty of fish!” you objected. 

Cross hummed in thought. “I think to maintain the ecosystem here, for one. She only lets Killer hunt here. The other reason is I think she gets a kick out of making us work or something.” She scowls, shaking her head. “I’ve spent too much time here already. I’ll get you something to eat by tonight, and then I can stop by and get you some more while I pretend I’m still looking for you.” 

You nod, still absorbing everything she’s told you so far. She never mentioned what “your” siren looks like. Maybe she doesn’t think you’ll come across her? 

Cross reached for a piece of seaweed in the nest, ripped off a piece, and proceeded to wrap and tie it around your neck like some sort of tight scarf. “There. Now they won’t see your necklace unless they take off the seaweed.” Cross let out a sigh of relief. “If it gets old, replace it.” She turned away, swimming to the tunnel. “Seeya.” 

“Seeya?” you reply. It comes out more like a question than a farewell. 

Cross nodded and dipped into the tunnel, disappearing quickly. 

You sink to the seaweed bed, pretty tuckered out from today’s events, scowling when you remember the faces of those dolphins trying to kill you. 

There’s a lot to take in here. 

Chapter Text

Cross was out gathering fish in a nearby hunting spot. He often tries to reserve this spot for occasions like this one, when he’s busy or when he wants to save some time for himself in his hiding place. He sighs through his nostrils as he stuffs another fish in the magic bubble Nightmare’s magic allows him to create. 

That was when a familiar sensation crawled up his spine, followed by words which swallowed every waking thought: “Return.” He gulped, flapping his hand anxiously to relieve the tension that the connection always caused him. 

“Better get going,” he mutters. He frowns at what little he’s collected in the bubble. Nightmare wouldn’t expect him to have caught more while he was assigned a high-priority task, but the fact he didn’t have extra meant that he couldn’t give any to the eel tonight. Anxiety crept in slowly as he thought about it more, carrying the bubble in his hands as he cut through the water and headed towards Nightmare’s territory once again. How much had you eaten? He hadn’t asked. 

Hopefully you wouldn’t sneak out of the cave. That would spell disaster. He saw that look on your face: you were going to leave without his guidance. That’s part of why he told you so much. He knew that you were going to do it at some point, but tonight of all nights when they’re searching everywhere for you was a horrible idea. You had to keep your head low, at least for now. 

He shakes his head as he enters the kelp forest barrier. Right now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Nightmare would sense his anxiety and question him, no doubt. Cross was particularly a horrible liar. He wishes he had Killer’s silver tongue sometimes. Cross scrunches his nose at the thought. The creepy bastard really got under his skin sometimes. She enjoys it, he’s sure. 

He starts swimming into the dead zone marked by dead coral and enters Nightmare’s cave, pushing past luscious pink plants. He grips the bubble tightly in his hands, worried he might pop it and the fish would all go free. 

“There you are, Cross. Didn’t take you too long,” Nightmare’s voice says to him. He stops where he is, glancing to his right and spotting Nightmare. In the darkness, her teal ecto glowed, making her easy to spot when she wanted to be seen. “In fact, Horror and Dust are still on their way back.” She moves towards him, tentacles grappling the cave floor as she did. Once she is hovering next to him, she stops, glancing between his gaze and the bubble in his hands. “You didn’t catch very much,” she muses. 

“I was looking for the new siren as you ordered,” Cross replied blankly. He gulps nervously despite himself as he lowers submissively to the cave floor. 

She quirks a brow at him, seeming to have noticed something. Oh, great, Cross thinks to himself, slumping like he was already caught. Taking the bubble from his hands and toying with it, she wonders, “You’re particularly anxious. Why’s that?”

Immediately, he blurts, “I’ve never had to find a new siren before.” This much is true. He was the one turned most recently, besides you. 

Nightmare pauses as she rolls the bubble in her claws, the fish frantically flopping about inside. She glances at him, looking at him up and down. Surely she notices how tense he is and how his heart beats faster. “That may be true,” she coos, “but that doesn’t seem to be the true source of your anxiety.” As she speaks, she holds the bubble in her right hand, using her other to place her hand above his heart. It beats even faster in response and his body stiffens. She smiles at him knowingly as she squints her glowing teal eye. Lowering her gaze slyly, she purrs, “You know me better than that, Cross. Now be honest.” 

Cross gulps again, his eyes briefly darting away. She glares at him, as if challenging him. He eventually answers hastily, “I fought with a couple of dolphins. They were attacking a siren. The siren got away before I could see if it was yours.” 

Nightmare smiles at him. “That’s better.” She let her hand go, holding the bubble in two hands again. She throws it aside, her magic carrying it to a separate room. Nightmare then opts to move in front of him. Cross anxiously swims back a little to give more space, which she closes again. “What did the siren look like?” she questions, folding her arms across her chest. 

Great. He was going to form a web of lies and she was going to catch him. They would find the eel and you’d be forced into whatever mindfuck of a situation this was. Anxiously, he responds, “I-I’m not sure. I didn’t get to see it, it got away before I could see. But the tail looked long. Maybe some kind of, uh… swordfish.” The words practically tumble out of his mouth. 

Nightmare squints her eye again, staring at his face speculatively. She straightens her standing position as she fixes her countenance, a smirk gliding across her face. “Really? A swordfish? How intriguing.” She tilts her head and taps her chin. “This was in the area I ordered you to look at, I presume?” 

Cross nods a little too frantically. “Yes. Near the lighthouse.” 

Nightmare nods. “Great. They will search more around that area, then, for a… swordfish, you said?” She hums in amusement, seeming to enjoy watching Cross squirm. 

He shook his head. “I didn’t see it well. Maybe it was a swordfish, maybe it was—” 

“I don’t smell swordfish,” Killer interjects. Cross jerks up from his lowered position, sand swishing beneath his tail as he glares daggers at Killer. 

The eel in question smiles cheekily at him, black sludge from her eye sockets flowing in the water. She sidles over to Nightmare, where she rests on her shoulder.

Nightmare asks her, “What do you smell?” Her tone is sweet, deathly sweet. 

“Dolphin, for sure. He definitely fought dolphins. I can smell the blood on him.” Killer nods resolutely against her shoulder. 

Cross’s heart drops in his chest. If she can still smell the dolphin blood, she might be able to smell you on him, too. After all, there was prolonged contact. 

Killer rolls her head on Nightmare’s shoulder, tail seeming to fold behind her back. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have said I smelled an EEL. But that can’t be right… Cross said he saw a swordfish!” Killer giggles and Nightmare reaches a claw under her chin where she scratches her. Killer lolls her head back, sockets squinting as she grins, a cherry red tongue peaking past her teeth. 

“I didn’t touch the siren,” Cross insisted, voice bolder than he felt. “There’s no way its smell would have gotten on me.” Hastily, he adds, “I nearly caught an eel while hunting, though.” 

Nightmare hums, eyelight flicking between Killer and Cross. “Well, if it is an eel… I wouldn’t mind another one.” She shows her teeth as she grins, cupping Killer’s cheek in her skeletal palm, putting their heads together as she turns away. Cross grimaces once they have, absolutely disgusted. He’ll never understand Killer and her behavior. 

“I wouldn’t, either,” Killer chirps helpfully. 

Nightmare scoffs at her. “I know you wouldn’t.” She carries Killer to a separate cave room. Cross guesses that means she’s done with him. 

Cross hears the drawl of Horror’s voice behind him before he smells him. “So, a swordfish?” he asks. Cross forebears pinching his nose at the repugnant smell, glancing to Horror on his left. 

“I don’t know if it was a swordfish or not,” Cross repeats. He can feel his temper rising as his tail twitches behind him. 

If Horror notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he replies, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He swims past Cross, going down a different tunnel. Soon, he sees Dust swim past him, down the same tunnel as Horror does. 

Cross was really not in the mood to eat with Killer and Nightmare. Not when Killer was going to stuff her nose so far up his ass it would come out brown. 

He’d go hungry. 

It wasn’t like he could go and see the eel right now. He had to sleep here, whether he liked it or not. 

Defeatedly, he moves down the tunnel that leads to his room. 

Chapter Text

Sun filters through the peak of coral on your face. You groan and force yourself up, arms wobbly for a moment. You blink as you consider your environment. Then it dawns on you: Cross was supposed to visit last night! How many hours had it been?! You only meant to take a nap! 

Hurriedly, you swim up to the coral, peaking as you try to take a look. It is way past early morning, perhaps encroaching afternoon. 

You sink to the floor, facepalming yourself. 

Well, if Cross had come last night, he didn’t leave anything behind. You don’t smell any nearby fish, besides the… delicious smells outside of this hiding spot. 

Anxiety creeps over you. What if Cross was hurt, or worse? In trouble with “your” shared siren? Whatever that meant. 

He was cute, too… 

No, no. Not the point. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when the serious face you were picturing in your mind suddenly peaks out the tunnel entering the room you’re in. 

“Cross!” you squeak. “There you are! I was worried!” You swim up to him, anxiously looking over him briefly. Like you could do anything if he was injured… 

He blinks, taken aback. “I’m sorry. My siren called, and…” He seems to bite his tongue like he detests his words. “Doesn’t matter. I brought you some fish!” He offers you some kind of bubble with living fish inside. He lowers his head, like he’s trying not to come across as eager. “Here. They won’t go bad when they’re alive inside of here.” 

“Won’t go bad,” you echo. You take the bubble from his hands carefully, worried one wrong move would pop it. 

“You don’t have to eat them all at once. I don’t know what your appetite is like,” he clarifies sheepishly. “I don’t pay attention to how much Killer eats. She seems to eat mostly for enjoyment.” 

You squint your eyes. “Does she… hunt for sport?” 

Cross shakes his head avidly. “Oh, no. We eat everything we catch. Our siren’s orders.” 

You guess that makes sense. 

You set the bubble down next to the nest, looking around the room properly this time. It seems a little barren. Some sand here, some rock there. It could use some sprucing up, especially if you were going to be living here 24/7, or however long you would stay here while you figured out how to not roll over while swimming. 

Cross seems to read your thoughts as he says, “Maybe I can find some plants you can put in here.” 

“I’d like that,” you reply warmly. “Thanks for… saving me. From the dolphins, and from… whatever else.” You shrug, not really sure what else is in this ocean that you have not experienced the displeasure of meeting. So far, it sounds like you’re dodging bullets. 

Cross nods, blushing. “Of course.” 

“You’re going to show me out of here, right? When things have calmed down like you said?” 

Cross nods, this time less confidently. “You have to leave this hole at some point, I guess.” He straightens his voice with a cough. “Listen. I know you’re anxious to get out of here. I get it. But you can’t leave this hiding spot, not without my guidance. If something were to go wrong… They might kill you if they see you. Understand?” 

You nod slowly, brows pinching as you wring your wrists. This was certainly a predicament to be in, and you’re starting to think being locked up is preferable to being mauled alive. You’ll see if your feelings change. 

“At some point, it’ll get better. Just not right now,” he continues. “I’ll keep visiting. This spot is lonely, that’s why I liked it.” 

Well, you didn’t want to steal someone’s alone time. You ask, “You don’t have another spot to be alone?” 

Cross blinks. He seems to register the connection you’ve made and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mind sharing time with you. I don’t need to be alone, I just wanted to be away from them.” He spits the last word venomously as he glares at the wall, like they were swimming right there. 

You try not to laugh, but it comes out as a snort that you stifle by covering your mouth. 

“What?” he asks you, voice sounding serious. 

“Nothing.” You shake your head, smile on your cheeks. “You just seem… different. Not like when we first met.” 

Cross sweeps his tail beneath him like he’s shifting his weight, brows knitted as he processes what you said. “Really?” 

“Maybe because you’ve been talking to someone you don’t hate,” you observe. “Like me. You don’t seem to hate me.” 

He makes eye contact with you momentarily. “Oh. Huh.” He pulls his scarf up over his nose. “I’ll be right back.” 

Confusion sets in as he quickly dives into the tunnel. 

Did you say something wrong? 

Whatever. You shake your head. You notice bits of dead plant and start picking it up and balling it up in your hand. Once it’s all cleaned up, you set the wad down in the corner and wait for Cross, who enters through the tunnel soon enough. 

In his arms, there’s several different plants. Some are different shades of green and some are pink. All these plants go up to his chin, where he places them gently in the middle of the room. “Here,” he says, beginning to separate them. His scarf still covers his face so it’s hard to read. 

“Oh! Thanks!” you chirp at him. 

He bashedly swims back, holding his wrist. “No problem,” he replies from under his scarf. 

“By the way, can you take out that pile of dead plants?” you request, pointing to the aforementioned wad. 

He looks over and nods at you, taking it in his arms. He hesitates for a moment as he watches you look over the plants he’s given you fondly. 

You observe the different colors and note that several have been carefully uprooted, so perhaps they can be replanted here. If not, well, that’s a problem for another day. 

When you glance up and notice he’s still here, he makes an awkward chirping sound before he dives into the tunnel with the dead plants in his arms. 

Weird. 

Cross was trying not to act shy and nervous, but you were totally right. You were the first siren he’s had the pleasure to sit down and have a conversation with, and you weren’t totally unlikeable or detestable. 

He’s seen some pretty sirens for sure. That’s their whole thing. He’s seen pretty mermaids, too, but that was also their whole thing, even more so from the siren perspective. Mermaids were like the domesticated version of sirens and needed to breed with sirens in order to create more mermaids. However, they’re often aggressive with female sirens, as they’re the only ones that produce sirens from any siren and mermaid relationships. He’s heard Nightmare talk about how different their behavior is from sirens. Sirens are pack animals, they hunt together, live together, and form territory together, and they’re more tolerant of different subspecies. Mermaids, though, were not so tolerant in general; though, Nightmare might have lied about any of that. She can’t exactly be trusted. Cross hasn’t had the opportunity to study other siren’s behaviors, and any time he’s interacted with one, it was usually because he was defending Nightmare’s territory as instructed. Most sirens glanced at his tail and went the other way. 

Ultimately, how both species portrayed themselves to humans and surface-dwelling monsters was completely opposite, in some ways. Mermaids make themselves out to be cute, loveable, and harmless, which couldn’t be further from the truth. At least for the wild ones, anyway. Cross is sure a few of them have landed themselves in captivity just because it’s easier than the wilderness. 

But that’s besides the point. The point is: you’re cute, and he wanted to get to know you more. Cuteness was not the only reason to date someone, obviously, at least for Cross anyway. You two started off on the wrong fin, which wasn’t the fault of anyone but Nightmare’s. Sometimes you just have to make the best of a situation and make friends with those who need it, and right now was one of those times. You needed him. Otherwise, you’d be alone, and he wouldn’t wish that on anybody. He tries not to think about how he could also really use a true friend. 

A shudder runs down his spine at the feeling of deja vu. Thinking about loneliness sometimes did that to him. He tended to push it down and ignore it. Trying to explore that feeling was painful and ended in vain. 

He throws aside the dead plants and hastily whips back around with his powerful tail. He checks around the area before he enters the tunnel. It would be unwise if Killer found out about this spot, and then found you… No. That can’t happen. He won’t let it happen. 

There you were, making cute faces at the plants again. You already planted some in the dirt and hung up some others from the coral just above the seaweed nest. You noticed he was there and smiled at him gently, making his heart jump in his chest. He fixes his scarf over his nose again and fiddles with his hands. “It looks great,” he manages to say without trouble. 

“Thank you. These plants are beautiful,” you tell him. 

You’re beautiful, too. 

Cross blinks, pushing away those thoughts. He was just desperate for positive contact, really. He couldn’t blame himself. Cross nods as he tells you, “I picked some pretty ones to make it look nice in here.” 

“There’s a lot of pretty plants out there,” you muse, glancing up at the coral which was now decorated with hanging leaves. 

Cross rubs the back of his neck nervously. 

“Sorry,” you tell him. “I didn’t mean to bring it up again.” 

“It’s okay,” he assures. 

A light twinkles in your eyes as an idea seems to cross your mind. “Just to change the subject. What’s the ocean like? I’ve obviously never been down here before, not like this.” 

A chuckle leaves him. A real laugh. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time, he doesn’t remember how long. He tries not to act excited as he starts to tell you different things about the ocean. He starts by explaining the basics of sirens and mermaids—what little he knew, anyway—and telling you about different fish, different plants, different biomes he’s seen, and different hunting spots he’s used. 

Eventually, you asked him, “What about that lighthouse keeper?” 

It takes Cross by surprise. He was talking about something completely different by now. Siren-human relationships was the topic several topics ago. After a moment, he asks, “What do you mean?” 

“Well, I washed up on that little island with the lighthouse,” you explain to him. “The lighthouse keeper fed me some salmon before those dolphins nearly got me.” 

He thinks for a moment. “Really?” 

You nod eagerly. “She was weird, but she was nice.” A guilty look crosses your face when you confess, “I was a bit rude. I was only just turned into a siren.” 

“Don’t blame yourself for that,” Cross finds himself barking at you. Surprise comes across your face and your brows perk. He feels a blush tickle his cheeks and he ducks his head. He clarifies by stating, “You’re new. You didn’t mean it.” He’s sure you didn’t. 

You nod in response. “Yeah. I didn’t.” You frown, and it makes Cross’s brows furrow. You seem to confess, “I just want to thank her for what she did. I don’t know if I would have survived those dolphins if not for her. Who knows.” You shrug. Quickly, you add, “And you! You also saved me.” 

Well, someone will thank her. 

Blushing up a storm, he stammers, “O-Of course.” He doesn’t have the heart to remind you that he was just following orders when you smile at him. 

After he left, he knew he had to survey the lighthouse territory regardless, in “search” of you. Nightmare’s orders. 

He washes up on the shore—careful not to beach himself—and waits. If it had worked for you, surely she would come out again? Maybe he should have played dead. 

Eventually, he did hear someone’s voice. “Hello?” 

He snaps his focus up, taking notice of a woman in a gray trench coat. 

He can’t speak English, not anymore, Nightmare won’t allow it. He’s tried. 

The woman stays by the hill cautiously, watching him, brows furrowed. She doesn’t trust him. She can see his shark half and she knows better. Maybe she had the courage to feed an injured eel, but she most certainly had the brains not to approach a shark so eagerly. 

But that’s besides the point. 

He grunts, knowing full well she’s likely wearing protective siren equipment, and tosses her the clam he found. It lands by her feet and she briskly grasps it before it rolls away. Cautiously, she watches Cross’s gaze as she opens up the clam in her hand. When she sees what’s inside, she gasps quietly and looks back at Cross. 

Cross nods his head, hoping she understands. He’s not sure if she does. She seems confused, and Cross dips his shoulders in disappointment. That’s when she chirps, “Oh! Are you friends with that eel?” 

Cross blinks. He nods quickly. He’s never been spoken to like a human before, not while he was a siren. 

“Is this your way or saying thank you?” 

Cross nods again. 

She smiles down at him. “Well, thanks to you, too! I have to go, but I appreciate your kindness, shark!” With that, she turns away and heads back to her lighthouse as another storm rolls in. 

Cross slides himself back into the water. 

Maybe he’d find another pearl. Warmth spreads across his cheeks at the thought. 

“So, Cross, Dust says you didn’t join him for the search around the lighthouse area?” Nightmare asks him. 

He’s eating a pike, trying to fill his empty stomach. He stifles a groan as he gulps down the chunk of food in his mouth. Looking at her, he answers, “Correct.” 

“What were you doing before then? Killer says you handed her a bubble of fish this morning and swam off in a hurry.” 

These questions were stupid. This whole situation was stupid. 

“I was making sure we didn’t miss any other areas just in case I was wrong,” Cross lies. He’s trying to keep his face bold but he isn’t sure if it’s working. 

Nightmare squints her eye at him, hands on her hips. “And?” 

And??? 

Cross can’t help from curling his lip. “And I checked around the lighthouse later, too. Ask Horror. He saw me there.” 

Nightmare nods slowly, but her eyes are speculative. “I know you’re hiding something. I don’t know what, but when I find out what it is…” 

“You won’t,” he snapped, slapping his hand on the ground. 

Nightmare seems surprised. Her eye glows brighter and she perks a brow. When Cross realizes what he’s done, he sinks back to the sand, lowering his head like he’s begging for forgiveness. “Sorry,” he pleads quietly. 

Her surprised expression becomes one of sly interest. Her voice cooing, she asks, “So you admit you’re hiding something, then?” A tentacle curls around a nearby fish and she tosses it to her hand. She then devours the thing whole. 

Cross watches, claws digging into the dirt and sand. “No,” he lies through gritted teeth. 

Nightmare gulps down her food before tutting at him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I already know what I need to know. For now. You can’t keep things from me forever, Cross. You know that.” She turns away soundlessly, melting into the shadows and leaving Cross alone with his half-eaten fish. 

Nausea grips his chest. He’s not sure if he can even eat the rest of this pike. 

He’s worried she knows he has the siren they’re seeking. Shouldn’t she be pressing more on the subject if that’s what she really thought? Shouldn’t she lash out? Cross shakes his head. Nothing she did made any sense to him, quite frankly. 

Chapter Text

She knows she’s being watched. Cross isn’t stupid, and Killer isn’t as slick as she thinks she is. Besides, she was already on high alert thanks to the interrogation last night. Cross knew that Nightmare would send her lap dog to observe her. 

So, she plays along. She leaves in the hiding spot’s general direction, never making eye contact with the hill. She keeps her focus dead set. 

She swims past the kelp forest, dually noting that she could still feel Killer’s prying eyes on her back. That didn’t stop her. 

She checks certain areas Nightmare told her sirens to investigate. Rechecks, actually. She makes it seem obvious enough as she peaks between coral and checks under rocks. Eventually, she feels like she isn’t being watched anymore, so she drops the act. 

Cross knows returning to Nightmare’s territory immediately is a bad idea. Instead, she heads toward the nearest hunting spot and catches enough fish for the sirens and for you, then starts making her way back. 

As she encroaches on Nightmare’s territory, she makes sure that she isn’t being watched before she enters the hiding spot. 

And there you are. Your eyes light up when you see her. It makes her heart flutter again. “Here. I brought more fish. You can take a couple.” 

You peer into the bubble curiously, a hum escaping your lips. “Is that a mackeral?” 

“No.” Cross chuckles. You’re still learning. 

You squint your eyes. “Maybe you should surprise me.” You seem exasperated. 

Cross sighs. She plucks a fish by the fin and adds it to your bubble, and adds another after that. “There. A pike and a trout.” 

“Oh, I ate a trout this morning,” you tell her. 

“Yeah? How was it?” 

It looks like you think it over before replying, “Not bad.” 

Cross snorts. “Not my favorite either.” 

“What’s your favorite, then?” 

She hates that it feels special when you ask. You’re just being nice, unlike everyone else in this goddamn ocean. Sheepishly, she answers, “Tuna.” 

You nod, beaming. “I like tuna, too.” 

“What’s your favorite?” she wonders. 

“Salmon, I think.” You tap your chin. “I’m not sure, but so far, it’s definitely my favorite.” 

“It’s too bad there’s no salmon around here.” 

“I wonder where the lighthouse keeper got it from, then?” you wonder aloud. 

She shrugs. “A boat could have stopped by.” 

“A boat…” you muse, squinting your eyes in thought. 

It perplexes Cross. She tilts her head as she questions, “Why?” 

“Nothing.” 

She decides to leave it at that. 

You seem to have something else on your mind. Cross tentatively asks, “Is something wrong?” 

You nod. At least you weren’t hiding it. You tell her, “There’s this odd pain in my chest. Like I’m being squeezed.” 

“Have you sung yet?” 

You blink your eyes curiously. “Sung?” 

“Sirens have to sing in order to feel complete,” Cross explains. She ducks her head. “Sorry. I should have told you earlier.” 

“Oh… That makes sense. Can I do it underwater?” 

Cross shifts her tail awkwardly. “Well, yes, but it’s not as effective,” she tells you. “It’s better to do it on the surface.” 

“That would mean leaving this hiding spot,” you point out. 

Cross bites her lip. Nervously, she says, “I think we can try that. I have an idea.” 

Cross told you to swim up the hill the hiding spot was dug into, reach the surface, and hide yourself next to the side of the hill facing the kelp barrier. So you did. 

You clasp your hands around the top of the hill, which peaks over the water. You pull your chest up, doing your best to hide your tail as you did. Hopefully you weren’t visible from beneath the surface. 

Crashing waves splash at you, but you had to make this quick. You take in a breath. You’re not sure what to sing, so you let out your feelings through words. Horrible words—the lyrics didn’t make sense—but you sang anyway. It feels healing, like there’s less weight on your chest. You sing for you don’t know how long, maybe a couple minutes. You’re mostly relieved, but there’s a tiny prickle of pain that doesn’t let go. You stop singing when you feel something, or someone, tug slightly at your tail. You take the hint and dive back under, staring down at Cross who has now moved down the hill. Hastily, you follow her. She hides behind the hill, glancing around at the entrance of the tunnel before diving in. You follow her. 

“Is everything okay?” you whisper to her. 

She nods. “Sorry. I just don’t know when they’ll show up sometimes,” Cross explains. “I thought I saw Killer, so I figured it would be better safe than sorry.”

You trust her. There’s really no reason for her to treat you with such genuine kindness and watch your back like this. You can’t fathom why she would change her mind and protect you otherwise. 

Cross sighs. “Did you at least heal a little bit?” 

You nod. You decide not to mention that she interrupted you and you feel like you should have sung more, but for now, this is good enough. “Much better,” you tell her. 

“Right. Good.” She seems less tense after you’ve said that. 

Awkward silence follows. 

“You need a name,” Cross says, cutting into the silence. 

You blink in surprise. 

God. A name! You don’t even have a name! 

You slap your forehead. You open your mouth to say something, but stop when no words exit your lips. You furrow your brows in thought, beginning to swim in tight circles as you scratch your scalp with your claws. “What… What was my name?!” you wonder aloud, totally perplexed. 

Why can’t you remember? 

“I figured that would be the case…” Cross chuckles awkwardly. “You’ll just have to come up with something.” 

You fiddle with the seaweed around your neck. Cross flinches, opening his mouth, but you speak before she can. “Pearl!” you chirp. “Like my necklace. I like the name Pearl.” 

Cross cringes, her nose scrunching as she ducks her head. 

You flinch. “What?” Did you say something wrong? 

“It’s just…” She fiddles with her claws. “Well. The necklace is what is keeping you bound to N— our siren,” she explains helpfully. “I just didn’t think you’d want that meaning attached to the name.” 

You frown, glancing around the room. “That makes sense,” you’re sure to tell her. You don’t want to make it seem like her concerns aren’t valid. That’s fine, you’ll pick something else… 

You glance at your tail. Just this morning you noticed that its colors were changed, more blue and pink and green, like the beautiful colors surrounding this place. “How about Rain?” you ask. It was short for rainbow… which sounded silly. 

Cross snorts. Perhaps she knows. “If that’s what you want.” 

“I don’t know what I want,” you groan, flicking your tail behind you in frustration. You have to stop yourself from unexpectedly rolling over in the water by grabbing the ground. 

She seems to notice, quirking a brow. She doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she assures you by saying, “That’s normal.” 

You grumble under your breath. “If you say so, Cross.” 

She fidgets some more before she swims up to you. “I have to go, but I can talk to you later.” 

You smile at her. “Okay. Thanks for the food and the company.” 

She nods, ducking her head as she swims away after grabbing her fish bubble. 

Was she always so embarrassed, you wonder? 

You shrug as you tuck yourself into the nest, which needs new seaweed soon. She was cute when she was embarrassed. As you lay there, you curled a piece of seaweed around your claw, pretending it was her hair. You wonder what that would feel like, with all her hair flowing in the water. Maybe you would put your hand against her scalp and scratch there, watch her eyes shut as she leans in and massage it. Feel her soft hair under your webbed fingers. Maybe you would take your other hand and put it against her cheek, feel its warmth—and it gets warmer as she blinks up at you—and all you can do is kiss her on that scar right below her eye and giggle at her as you watch her eyes go wide and she gets flustered. 

… You can’t be the only one, right? Cross was definitely crushing on you. 

It would probably be too weird to advance. Besides, you’re still new to this ocean thing. Maybe a relationship with the first person you met wasn’t the best idea. 

Oh well. It’s just a fantasy, anyway. 

You lay your head down on your elbows, letting some more fantasies play out. Sometimes you were swimming in the endless ocean, untethered by the pricking pain in your chest. Sometimes you were talking to that quirky lighthouse keeper, chatting away about sirens. Sometimes you’re exploring beautiful coral reefs and eating delicious salmon. You imagine these things until you drift off to sleep. 

“So… He really was searching for the new siren?” Nightmare asks her. She lays against her plush bed, rolling a fish egg between her claws tentatively. Her tentacles curl and flex. 

Killer hums as she leans in closer to her. “Seems like it,” she says, muffled as she presses her mouth against Nightmare’s stomach. Her tail twitches behind her, begging for the signal. 

“And you’re sure you weren’t being followed?” Nightmare questions. Her voice is sharp and accusing, but there’s that alluring lilt in the back of her throat that makes Killer want to roll over and beg. It makes Killer shiver. She has to refrain from digging her claws into Nightmare’s sides as her arms are wrapped around her. Her siren seems to know this as she grabs Killer’s chin with her free hand, forcing her to make something of eye contact. She doesn’t say anything, and it’s not permission to wrap around her like she wants to. 

Her throat tightens as she suppresses a groan of frustration. Instead, she answers, “No. She never even looked over her shoulder once!” 

“Not once?” 

“Not once!” 

Nightmare chuffs at her, letting go of her chin, her wrist limp as she pops the egg into her mouth with her other hand. “She’s been paranoid. Then, suddenly, she stops looking over her shoulder this morning? How convenient…” Nightmare muses. 

Killer freezes, her grip tightening. 

She had a point. 

Killer shakes her head. “Regardless, she searched for something.” 

“An act, no doubt,” Nightmare muses, picking up another egg and popping it in her mouth. As she does this, she reaches for the star-shaped necklace hanging around Killer’s neck, fiddling with it in her claws. Killer leans her head back, allowing her to do so. She hums quietly and she feels Nightmare rumble before she speaks. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Killer.” She lets go of the necklace and sets her hand on her skull, rubbing it gently, her claws scraping against her cranium. Killer lowers her head and her grip slackens in response. She can feel Nightmare laugh beneath her. Killer can’t help it as her tail finally coils around her like it’s been wanting to. 

Her hand moves to Killer’s back where she traces her claws over thoracic vertebrae. Nightmare coos, “You’ll be rewarded, once you figure it out.” 

Killer shudders at her words. Several ideas come sporadically in her mind. 

All Killer does is bask in the attention as Nightmare eats her fish eggs and Killer falls asleep. 

Chapter Text

The past few days have been hectic. 

Nightmare ordered that Cross stick with Killer and Horror as they search for Nightmare’s new siren, which meant that Cross didn’t have an opportunity to visit. He knew you were responsible enough to ration your food, at least. 

But there was a problem. 

With all this distraction, it was getting harder and harder for Cross to slip away. With winter coming, there was less fish, and that meant he couldn’t find as much for you. 

It was starting to take a toll. He couldn’t talk to his new friend as much as he wanted to—same for you, he’s sure—and it was getting harder to give you the time to sing properly, too. You expressed grief regarding your physical condition. At some point, Cross gave in and suggested you try and start hunting around the hiding spot, much to his anxiety. 

There wasn’t a choice. 

But, today was a bit different. He managed to bring you a couple new fish, and this time he could stay longer to talk. 

“How are things going?” Cross asks. 

You bite into the new trout he’s given you graciously, blood spilling in the water. You lick your lips. “Much better, now that I got something to eat,” you answer. “Thank you.” 

Cross frowns, rubbing his elbow. “I’m sorry. They’ve just been…” 

“Pushing you around?” 

You always seem to know what to say. 

Cross nods, repeating, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault, Cross,” you affirm as you plant your hand on his shoulder. You gave a squeeze as you say, “I understand.” 

Cross hangs his head. He’s failing his only friend, but he won’t say that out loud. Everything in his mind stops as you reach for his cheeks with your free hand. He whips his gaze back up, eyes wider than he would have liked, but he quickly repairs his expression as he combs over your face for an explanation. 

There’s that cute, colorful blush painting your cheeks, like a rainbow after a storm. 

He can’t look away, as much as he tries. He gulps, closing his eyes, leaning into your touch. He can feel your thumb trace over his cheek and you let out a hum. You ask him, “Better?” 

There’s a knot in his throat. He lets out something of a short purr, hoping it says enough. He cracks open his eyes enough to see you smiling at him, more rainbow coating your cheeks. 

Is this what friends do? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t remember any friends from his surface life, and you were his first real friend under the sea. 

He flicks his tail nervously. You retract your hand in response. He refrains from grabbing your hand and pushing it back on his face, claws twitching momentarily as his breath hitches. You don’t seem to notice. 

Cross looks at your expression again, frantic, but he doesn’t see fear in your eyes. It relaxes him, although he’s still nervous. 

Does ze hate me? I’m a failure. 

“I know you’re trying your best,” you tell him.  

His anxiety melts away as he lets out a sigh. “You’re a… great friend,” Cross tries to say. 

You let out a snort. It makes Cross furrow his brows as he looks at you incredulously. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you reply. 

He made his way back to the dead zone with the fish he had just caught in the bubble. He sets it down in the room it belongs in, turning around, only to stop when he sees Killer there. “What do you want?” he growls at her. 

Killer turns up her skeletal nose, eye sockets squinting as she smiles. “You met with that eel again, huh?” She swims closer and he freezes as she sniffs at his face before moving to his side. Cross watches as she does, glaring daggers at her. “You must really like her…” she purrs, swimming over Cross. He snaps his gaze toward her, now at his right, tilting her body and smiling at him. 

“Mind your business,” Cross snaps at her, teeth bared as he snarls. 

Killer doesn’t even flinch. She just grins and swims closer to his face, making Cross hesitate as he pulls his head back. “You’re all bark and no bite,” she purrs, cupping one of his cheeks with a skeletal hand. 

Cross blinks, eyes widening, anger distantly washing over him like a wave. He doesn’t say anything as Killer giggles at him before pulling away her hand and swimming off down a nearby tunnel. Immediately, the air leaves Cross’s chest as he glares at the eel. 

He couldn’t deny the growing warm feeling which gnawed at his skin and etched into his bones.  

Chapter Text

Man, you were starving. You’d glance over your body sometimes and anxiety would creep in at the idea that you might be getting skinnier. Then again, it was winter now… Didn’t all animals suffer like this in the wild? It was a hard time, after all. Still, it reminds you that you’re mortal, and you can die. 

You shudder. 

There’s a deep aching in your chest. It subsides when you sing above the surface, but it never truly goes away. In fact, it’s slowly getting worse, you suspect. 

Cross thought it was hunger, but you’re pretty sure it’s not hunger. It’s deep aching, a deep longing, to move out of the cave and find something. You don’t know what. 

Leaving this hiding spot isn’t an option right now. You’ve been creeping out every now and then when Cross isn’t around, like she said to, but that doesn’t make you feel any less anxious knowing this “Killer” guy could pop up at any given time and attack you. 

Your thoughts are interrupted as Cross barrels into the room. You squeak, shooting up from the nest. It’s got some new seaweed, and there’s new seaweed covering your pearl necklace. “Cross!” 

She seems a little breathless. 

It’s later at night, she doesn’t usually come here this late. 

“You can leave the hiding spot and explore some of the territory now,” Cross tells you. “Don’t go out too far from here. Later I can show you the western boundaries.” 

You blink. “What? How?” You swim closer to her to get a better look with the darkness. You notice something on her shoulder, tilting your head and reaching for it. 

When Cross realizes what you’re doing, she winces and briskly covers her shoulder with her contralateral hand.

“What’s that mark on your shoulder?” you question. 

“Killer bit me,” Cross explains, “but now she shouldn’t show up around here for about four weeks.” She shakes her head as she grumbles, “Given she keeps her word.” 

“You didn’t fight her, did you?” you wonder aloud. “You’d get in trouble for that, right?” 

She shakes her head more vigorously, and it’s clear she’s blushing. “No, no. We didn’t fight.” 

“Well… okay.” 

Cross lowers the hand from her shoulder and tucks her scarf over it. “Okay. It’s late. I gotta head back. Tomorrow morning—make sure the sun is up, don’t leave too early—try and start hunting. I’ll show you around soon.” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

She turns away. “See you soon.” 

“Bye…!” 

Man, these short conversations are awkward as hell. 

You curl up on the seaweed bed, trying your best to fall asleep quickly. 

Morning comes soon enough. 

Your hunting prowess was about as expected: not good at all. 

When you gained the confidence to stride out and about—having made sure to sing just over the surface to ease the pain in your chest—you anxiously kept close to rock and coral, sure to keep aware of your surroundings. You also noted certain hiding spots to dive into if necessary. Occasionally you would swim up the side of a large hill and peer out to see if anyone was approaching. So far, you haven’t seen anything yet. You made sure to stay in eyesight of the hiding spot, unsure where the western boundary was. There didn’t seem to be any clear indication. 

Hunting was hard, especially with no prior experience, not to mention this wasn’t your original body. After a few hours, you managed to catch a small fish. It squirms in your hands and you squeal in delight, quick to quiet yourself as your head whips around for any sign of danger as you pin the fish against a nearby rock. When the coast seems clear, you hold the fish in your claws and swim off to the hiding spot to eat it. You wouldn’t want to release the smell of blood and trigger any nearby sirens to smell it. 

You spend the rest of your day trying to catch more fish. It feels like you’re expending more energy than gaining. Eventually you tire yourself out and you curl up in the nest before the sun’s even set, falling asleep quickly. 

The next few days are about the same. You spend time hunting, and you seem to be improving… Slowly but surely. Today, you’ve already caught two fish, and it’s midday! So it seems like your skills have finally improved enough to satiate your appetite. That aching is still embedded in your chest, unfortunately. 

“Rain!” you hear Cross exclaim. 

You wince, swimming back, but you stop when you realize who it is barreling towards you. She stops in front of you, smiling nervously. “Finally, I can show you the western borders,” she tells you. 

“Oh, great. I tried to figure it out but it’s not all that clear,” you explain. 

“Here. Follow me.” She doesn’t hesitate to swim forward, and you don’t hesitate to follow. She shows you the landmarks, explaining where not to cross. “I still don’t know if Killer will keep her word,” she says anxiously, rubbing her elbow. “I haven’t seen her move toward here, and I’m compensating for her lack of hunting grounds by feeding her more fish, so, hopefully…” She scrunches her face. “Ugh, I was stupid. Once the four weeks are up, I’ll have to remove you from our siren’s territory. She knows I’m keeping something here and I can’t risk it.” 

A lot of that is confusing to you, but you get the gist of it. “Okay,” you reply firmly. “That sounds like a plan.” 

“How is your chest?” Cross asks, making eye contact after her gaze swipes over you anxiously. 

You bite your lip. “Well. It could be better…” 

Cross’s brows furrow. She doesn’t have to say anything: you know she knows it’s bad. There’s nothing either of you can do about it. “… Okay. Just keep singing. I’m sure it’ll go away,” she says. 

She doesn’t seem sure, though. 

You decide not to comment on that. Instead, you nod, turning back to the deeper part of the western territory. Cross is quick to swim back beside you, making a chirping noise. “You’ve been catching fish, right?” 

You nod. “Yeah, finally.” 

Cross heaves a sigh. “Good. I can teach you some hunting methods now.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you wonder. 

“They gave me a break,” she answers with a halfhearted shrug. “Horror caught enough yesterday.” 

“Well, that’s good.” You smile at her, grateful for the company and the help with hunting. 

She shows you how to angle your body, sure to position your limbs and your tail while giving criticism. It makes you blush when she touches you, and you’re pretty sure she’s blushing, too, acting like you’re electric as she draws her hands back. After that, she shows you how it’s done, sure to remind you that your subspecies is vastly different from hers and will change your hunting method. You show her how you do it, nervous under her watchful gaze. She seems aware of this, but nonetheless, she critiques you. It seems like the whole day goes by doing this. Eventually you manage to catch a decent sized fish. You and Cross swim into your hiding spot for you to eat it, and she tells you she’ll catch you another real quick. When she’s returned, she’s caught a larger fish for you, which you devour graciously. 

“Thank you.” You lick at your chin with your lengthened tongue, curling it around the edges to make sure you get everything. 

Cross watches you, seemingly distracted, before she quickly tears away her stare. “N-No problem,” she replies, smiling sheepishly. 

You tilt your head at her, squinting your eyes as you look over her briefly. Her nervous smile grows before she changes the subject. “I hope my hunting lessons were okay.” 

You fix your position, laying down on the seaweed bed, holding yourself up with your elbows as you curl your tail behind you, back fins pressing against your skin. “Yeah, it was great actually,” you tell her warmly. “I learned a lot. Hopefully I’ll be able to put those skills to good use.” You smile at her. 

There’s more purple in her face as she pulls up her scarf. “That’s great,” she chirps. “But… I have to go. It was good seeing you. I’ll keep an eye out for you.” 

“Seeya, Cross.” You watch as she dives out the exit tunnel quickly, saying her goodbyes as she did. 

You lick your tongue over your lips in thought as you rest your head against the seaweed nest. 

“Killer,” Nightmare barks. 

The aforementioned skeletal eel shoots her head up from her nest in Nightmare’s room, looking up to see Nightmare standing beside her. How she got there, she didn’t know. Regardless, Killer swims up—although she stays low, to show her submission to her siren—and asks, “Yes, Nightmare?” 

“Dust reports having smelled an eel near the outside of the western part of my territory,” she explains, expression neutral as she folds her arms. “I’m sure we know which eel that is,” she adds with a scoff. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure we do. I’ll check it out,” she purrs as she lowers her head and smirks. She won’t break her deal with Cross… not conventionally, anyway. She cocks her head and makes eye contact with that lustrous teal eyelight as she says, “Her name’s Rain, by the way.” 

Nightmare perks a brow, not quick to hide clear surprise. “Really? How did you learn that?” she wonders. 

Killer leans in, the tip of her tail twitching anxiously. “It’s a secret,” she whispers with a grin. “Cross let it slip out of his mouth.” 

“And you’re certain it’s that eel friend of his?” Nightmare asks, looking down at her. 

“Oh I’m sure,” Killer coos. “Besides, does Cross have any other friends?” 

Nightmare bellows out a deep laugh. Shaking her head, she replies, “You’re right.” 

“Maybe I can help the poor guy out with his friend,” Killer remarks. She shrugs as she lays back down in her nest, propping up her cheek with her palm, elbow resting on the seaweed. “He seems rather bent out of shape about it.” 

“It’s more than that,” Nightmare muses. 

Killer simply nods. 

Nightmare lets her arms fall to her sides. “Tomorrow morning you and Dust will investigate the western part of the perimeter,” she orders, turning away as she speaks. 

“On it, boss.” She watches as her siren dips into her sleeping spot, staring disrespectfully. 

She wakes up early that morning. She often did when she was working under Nightmare’s direct orders, which was to investigate the outside perimeter of the western part of Nightmare’s territory. Nightmare’s orders comes first, and Cross’s deal comes second, quite frankly. She’d find a way to work around both and get what Nightmare wants. She was good like that. 

She didn’t directly enter the western territory. She did, however, swim near it, swimming close to the surface to get a better view of the western part in an attempt to survey it. She swims back and forth for a few minutes. When she doesn’t see anything, she huffs and swims through the kelp forest. She waits for Dust to loop around this part. From a distance, she watches Dust approach, quick to swim up to them and greet them with a chirp. He responds with a tired growl. 

“So, where have you been smelling that eel?” Killer questions. 

Dust scrunches his nose, sure to give Killer a glare as he tilts up his head. “All the time. You smell.” 

Killer would roll her eyes, if she could. Instead, she groans. “Oh, come on, Dusty. You know what I mean.” 

Dust scowls. They had a tendency to do that whenever someone said their name. He chooses not to say anything regarding that. Instead, he retorts, “Whatever.” With a sigh, he swishes his long tail, pushing past Killer. Wordlessly, she follows. “Over here,” he eventually announces. 

When they reach the end of the western part of Nightmare’s territory, Dust stops, floating just above a boulder covered in all sorts of plants. He rests his hands on it, digging his claws into grass. “Around here, usually. I investigate the area but I never find anything.” He shrugs. “Most sirens know to stay away from the kelp. Maybe this one gets close and doesn’t know any better, but I should have found them by now if that were the case.” 

“Hmmm.” Killer hums in thought. “I think I know what the problem is.” 

“Great. You deal with it, then. Call me if you need me,” Dust growls lowly. He begins swimming away. 

“What?! Wait!” 

Dust stops, glancing at Killer, staring at her. “What do you want? You don’t need me for this. It’s just another eel. You can handle it.” 

Killer stares back at them. “You’re supposed to help me.” 

“I’m busy,” Dust says with a grunt. He looks forward again, swimming off for real this time. 

Well, Killer didn’t really need their help. Maybe she scared Dust off for good and she’d get some privacy. “Fine by me,” Killer grumbles. 

She swims by the kelp, sniffing the air. Dust had a better general sense of smell, but Killer had a better time with lingering smells. It’s the same reason why she could always smell Rain on Cross. Whatever he was doing, it was always in close proximity. 

Killer doesn’t smell anything at first. Then, with a swish of water, she catches a whiff of something familiar. Killer freezes, craning her neck as she attempts to follow the scent. But… just as expected, it wasn’t coming from outside the territory. No, Killer knew better. It was coming from INSIDE the territory. 

She checks to see if Dust is looking. Wouldn’t want to spoil any surprises. When the coast is clear, she dives into the kelp, careful not to leave it or expose herself. She sniffs again, unable to trace the scent. Her black tears smudge her vision as she pushes through the kelp. Cautiously, she peers past the barrier, squinting her eye sockets. She swims up to get a better vantage point. Then, she sees it. Something moving in the water. Something big. Something undeniably bigger than it should be. 

Killer cocks her head. Lowering back to the sea floor, she swims out from the kelp, entering the western part of the territory. She laces through coral and rock, silent as an eel. Which she was. 

Then, she sees it. A flash of pink, blue, and green, like the plants around here. There. She clears her vision, blinking excessively, spotting what appears to be an eel siren. 

Well, there you have it. 

One: outsiders were to be attacked or killed on sight in the case they are within the territory. Two: hunting for outsiders is explicitly forbidden. It seems like Killer could potentially nail Cross for both rules having been broken, considering the fact she could see that the eel was clearly trying to hunt within their territory. Poorly, but it seemed as though there was some technique behind it. It was odd to say the least. 

Maybe the eel they were smelling was Nightmare’s new siren all along. 

Oh, wouldn’t that be sweet. 

Killer pushes down her excited jitter, grinning as she slinks toward the unsuspecting eel. She ducks her skull when the eel quickly looks her way, clearly taking note of zir surroundings, but when she’s close enough, she greets the other eel. “Why, hello there.” 

The other eel winces, letting go of the fish she had just captured. Your eyes meet Killer’s empty eye sockets and fear dons your countenance, following the tears streaking around Killer’s cheeks. 

Before you can speak up, Killer purrs, “You don’t belong here, do you?” She moves closer to you. She’s sure to flick her tail in a way that moves her scent, clear to send a message to you: one wrong move, and I’ll strike. She notices the way your nostrils flare after taking in the scent and you blink, as if you’ve never smelled something like that before. Which is odd, given pheromones encircle the territory all around. Unless, of course, someone intercepted such a thing, or perhaps it was encroached on by someone who didn’t know what they were smelling. Killer had her suspicions. 

You stammer, “I… I’m sorry, I had no idea.” Anxiously, she watches as you back away, showing her your paws as the fins along your tail flare. A human gesture and a dominant eel siren gesture. Killer perks her brows. In all other circumstances, that might be seen as an attempt to start a fight. You’re lucky Killer knows better than that. “You’re new here, aren’t ya?” she coos, swimming closer, overshadowing you, tail flicking a new scent. This time it tells you that she’s friendly but dangerous. Your nostrils flare again, your cute face scrunching. One of your hands flies backward to hold yourself against a rock, watching Killer anxiously. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave…” 

“Nonsense. I’m just getting to know you. My name’s Killer. And yours,” she purrs as she leans into your face, watching your eyes shrink as she grins, “is Rain, isn’t it?” 

“How do you…?” You blink, a scared look crossing your face before realization dawns on you. “Oh… Cross…” 

Killer backs up, snickering. “Oh, you know my friend? He’s such a sweetheart, honestly.” Killer tilts her body, swishing her tail again. “I didn’t realize he let his pretty friend in. My mistake.” 

“I’m sorry for intruding on… your siren’s territory,” you say shakily, claws gripping tighter on the rock. 

Killer moves closer again, getting a long sniff at you, eyeing the seaweed wrapped around your neck. It couldn’t be Nightmare’s signature collar, but it might be hiding something. You stare at her with bewilderment and fear, raising your other hand, your tail curling towards yourself as your fins flatten. A much clearer sign of submission on your lower end’s part. “You’re Rain, all right,” Killer muses. She grabs your side, pushing you against a nearby boulder, making you squawk in protest as you glare into her eye sockets. “Cross has spoken so little about you, and yet I feel like I know you already,” Killer says, leaning into your face, which pushes into the surface behind it as you flinch. “I know he must think you’re pretty and cute. But you don’t seem timid like he seems to think. You’re just inexperienced, aren’t you? Almost like…” She cocks her head, grinning. Her voice is low and quiet as she coos, “Almost like… you haven’t been claimed yet.” 

Your eyes narrow. 

That gives her all the answers she needs. 

Killer snickers as she places her other hand over your chest, pushing it towards the rock. A growl escapes your lips, briefly cut off when Killer snaps her focus back on your face. Instead of reprimanding, she ignores it. “That longing pain in your chest. You feel it, don’t you?” 

You stare at her, gaze interlocked. Yet you don’t respond. Her claws dig into your side and you yelp quietly, letting out a quiet hiss as the tip of your tail flicks. Reluctantly, you reply, “Yes.” 

She smirks. “It won’t go away. Not yet. Not until you’re—” 

“KILLER.” 

She whips her head to look at Cross, who’s just a few feet away, tail twitching apprehensively as he flexes his claws. 

Killer grins, pressing you closer to her much like an embrace as she moves the hand over your chest to the back of your head, claws moving through messy hair. “Cross, I was just getting to know your friend here, Rain.” She briefly presses her teeth to your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. “I won’t tell our longing siren yet,” she whispers before she pulls away. 

“We had an agreement, you bastard! Four weeks!” Cross bellows, swimming to your side, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close, but not too close. He scowls. “You fucking lied—” 

Killer tuts him. “I did no such thing, Cross. I was just following orders from our siren.” 

He snarls, “What did you tell her?!” 

“Nothing!” Killer chirps innocently, swimming to his face, making him bristle. “It was Dust who said something. They said they smelled an eel near the western territory. So I investigated, and saw your friend here hunting in her territory. Which is breaking her orders, you know.” 

Cross seethes at him, grimacing. 

She cocks her head and squints her eye sockets. “You wouldn’t want me to tell her, would you?” Killer asks, a teasing lilt in her voice. 

“I’ll remove her from the territory. Nobody has to get hurt,” he pleads. 

Killer grins. “That’s great to hear, but I want you begging.” 

“What?” 

“Go on. Beg.” Killer puffs her chest, grinning ear to ear. 

Cross scrunches his face. He glances at you as you grip his arm anxiously, giving him a confused look. He faces Killer again, lowering his head. “Please, Killer. Don’t tell her. Please.” 

Killer chuckles, licking her teeth. “That’s better. I’ll think about it.” 

“THINK about it!?” Cross roars, quickly swallowed down when you pull his arm back. 

Killer hisses out a wheezy laugh as she turns away. “Even your friend has better common sense than you, Cross. Shameful.” She begins swimming toward the dead zone, ignoring Cross’s stare which could kill with looks alone. “I’ll think about it,” she repeats over her shoulder. She can hear Cross’s distant growling. 

Chapter Text

The amount of rage moving through his body made his cheeks flush and his tail twitch uncontrollably. The only thing grounding him right now was the squeeze on his arm to which you were attached. He blinks, separating his gaze from Killer’s slick form, making eye contact with you. He looks into those worried eyes another time; then he tears his gaze away, pulling up his scarf over his face. He doesn’t force you off of his arm. 

“What now?” you ask, breaking the awkward quiet. 

“Now we leave,” Cross decides. He begins swimming forward. You move from his arm to his hip, elbow locking somewhere around his pelvis. He tries to ignore the heat that joins his rage as he moves toward the kelp barrier. 

“Where?” 

“I already found a habitat suitable for a small predator siren,” Cross explains. “It’s nearby, and it’s got a good enough hunting spot.” He feels you brush up against a sigh, making him shiver briefly as he presses on. He doesn’t dare look. He manages to say, “I’m sorry about all of this.” 

You scoff. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s Killer’s.” 

“She’s an asshole,” Cross mutters. He feels you nod against his skin. 

They’ve already reached the barrier. You untangle from his side, watching as he moves toward the blades and begins prying them apart like last time. 

Cross is warm and soft as your arms wrap around him. You press into him, feeling his warmth as you talk. It’s too bad you have to pull away as he helps you move past the barrier. 

Luckily, unlike last time, nothing bad happens and you don’t end up tangling yourself back up. 

“Okay. Where to?” you ask, looking back to face Cross who is now swimming past you. 

“This way,” he says. He follows the edge of the kelp, though he looks and sniffs warily. “Be careful. Dust should be patrolling. Just act scared of me if he sees us.” 

“Got it.” 

You follow Cross alongside the kelp. Eventually, he pivots, and you follow him past mounting hills when the ground suddenly dips and there are plenty of towering blades of seaweed and other forms of sea life, with the glimpses of glittering schools of fish which duck and move like one body. You stay close to Cross, grabbing his hand as you look around. You don’t fail to notice the way he looks back at you, blushing, but he quickly tears away his gaze as if you haven’t noticed. You brush up against him briefly and you feel the way he shivers and swims faster. You manage to hold back a giggle. Now really isn’t the time, not when you’re trying to escape the siren’s clutches. 

You swim toward what appears to be a small kelp forest surrounded by the seaweed. Cross dives inside. You hesitate for a moment, but when Cross enters and doesn’t make an effort to pry anything apart as he glances back at you, you realize that this kelp must be different from the kind that circles around his siren’s territory. You follow him into the blades of kelp, staying by his side until he slows down. He shows you some sort of cave just outside of its entrance where he stops and turns to look at you. “Here,” he says. 

“It’s… homey,” you decide as you peek your head inside to look around. It’s a small cave, smaller than Cross’s hideout for sure. The entrance is a perfectly smaller size, so that only someone of your build can fit inside, and something like a shark won’t be able to. You’re sure that’s why Cross picked it out for you. As you pull your head back, your claws trace over the floor. It’s not sand, it seems to be stone, which means that you won’t be dug out like last time. You shudder as you remember the devilish grins of the dolphins as they leered at you. 

Cross seems to let out a relieved sigh. “That’s great. All the other spots I wasn’t sure would be secure enough,” he explains. “I’m glad this one works. I’m sure you’ll decorate it and make it look nice.” He frowns, something seeming to occur to him as his eyes dart away. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask him. 

“I never showed you how to make a proper nest.” He ducks his head awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. 

“That’s okay. Maybe we can do that today if you have time. I mean, if you don’t have to run back to your siren or something,” you assure him. “Or maybe later.” 

He blinks. After taking a moment to register what you said, he gasps quietly. “You’re right. I should probably head back. I don’t think I have enough time to show you around,” he replies hastily. He looks over his shoulder, gaze combing over the kelp forest and the coral anxiously. “I don’t know what the predators around here are like, but they’ll probably be more your size, especially since this spot is so close to my siren’s territory and we frequent here often… Bigger predators should be avoiding this spot…” 

You gulp and nod, sliding your tail into the cave entrance. “Thanks, Cross. For helping me.” 

He nods. “I have to go. I’ll see if I can come back. Just be careful, okay?” 

“I will.” 

And there he went. 

Your claws grip the ground, scouring the sand. You were careful not to break a nail, though. It was strange. They seemed much stronger than what you’re used to. 

This place smelled completely different. It’s hard to put it in words, not when you’ve never smelled beneath the ocean before, but it almost seemed more moist and green by smell. 

It’s odd how water moves through your gills. It’s odd that your diaphragm doesn’t contract to let air in, doesn’t relax to let air out, and there’s no air passing through your lungs at all. It makes it seem useless. Why is it still there, besides when you’re on the surface? 

Why do sirens exist? Why do they sing? Why do they call for a race that’s often nothing like theirs? Do natural sirens exist, or are they like vampires, requiring humans to reproduce? Is that what you are? A siren child? How does this all work? What changed about your anatomy? If you were reborn, have your genitals changed or do they still bear resemblance to humans? Do sirens even need sexual genitalia if they reproduce asexually by changing humans? You can state for a fact that you’ve not always had gills, and you’ve never had scales run along your spine, your sides, your joints, and the back of your hands. You’ve never had claws of which you could retract. You’ve never had a tail, obviously, and you’ve never had fins along your back that you could poise accordingly. You’re pretty sure you’ve not had those second pair of eyelids that you use to cover your eyes to prevent water from damaging them, but you can’t be certain, not until you meet a human and ask, and you have a feeling that’s not an option. 

As you lay by the crevice, ears pricked and listening, you sweep your gaze around the seaweed and the kelp surrounding you. Schools of fish swim past but they surely keep their distance; you’re not exactly hiding yourself. For now, that’s fine. You’re relaxing, observing. This is a new situation and you need to gauge what prey and predator are like. 

So many new smells. The fish smell saltier here, somehow. 

You’ve smelled Cross, at least. You know what a shark smells like, though it probably varies from species to species, and your sense of smell doesn’t seem to be very long distance… yet? You’re not sure what will change with time and experience. Right now, the focus is survival first of all, and avoiding Cross’s shiver second of all. 

Shiver? Is that the right word? 

You’re pretty sure he’s mentioned “shivers” before, though that may have been in reference to shark groups specifically. 

These fish are almost pretty, the way the sun bounces off their scales sometimes. Occasionally you’d see a fish catch another before swimming off to avoid attention and to eat its meal; sometimes you’d glimpse and see something moving in a patch of coral. There’s a lot to take in here, and you’re not comfortable leaving your hiding spot to explore yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tonight, if Cross comes back. 

You blink slowly. You retreat to the very corner of your little hiding hole, curling your tail around you, your fin pressing against your spine as you relax. You cross your arms beneath you, settling your chin, face toward the exit just in case anything gets an idea. 

If Cross came, he’d wake you up, if you didn’t wake up first. 

You’re almost scared to fall asleep, but at the same time, you’re worried what might happen if you don’t. Your eyes blink slowly as you consider your options. You could probably fend off something your size and build and swim away if necessary, although you have no training in fighting… 

Your anxious thoughts melt away as sleep overtakes you.

After Cross was out of your vision, he pumped his tail and hurried back to Nightmare’s territory. He couldn’t smell Killer anywhere, but unfortunately, Dust blindsided him. He caught his scent moments before he saw him, but at that point, it was too late. He stifled a groan as he saw Dust locate him and immediately swim towards him. 

Now, luckily, Dust wasn’t as enthusiastic about serving Nightmare as Horror and Killer. That at least they could agree with. Still, Nightmare kept them separate for good reason. Not because they hated each other, no, she had to keep Dust and Killer separate for that reason; Cross and Dust were simply too opposed to her. Cross surmised that she was worried they would lead some kind of coup or cause trouble. It almost boosts his ego to think that she thought of him as capable of being a threat to her… 

Especially knowing what she was capable of. 

Or maybe it’s just a sick joke. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought as Dust approaches him. 

“What’s wrong?” Dust asks. He doesn’t ask with any kind of empathy or attitude in his voice, it’s monotonous, like he’s following protocol. 

“Nothing,” Cross answers a little too quickly. He chuckles nervously. “What made you think something was wrong?” 

Dust grunts halfheartedly and swims past him, but stops at his other side. Cross watches them, but he tries to not seem anxious as he refrains from pulling his scarf over his nose as a nervous habit. 

Dust’s eyelights, pure white while they’re calm, move over Cross’s body. “You seemed anxious,” Dust responds finally. “You still do.” 

“I’m not anxious,” Cross tells him sternly. 

“Okay. Whatever,” Dust grumbles. He turns away, swimming the direction he was heading around the kelp circle. “If you’re in some kind of trouble, I didn’t see you, Cross, so don’t mention my name,” they tell him in warning. There’s no threat in their tone, but the threat is certainly implied, and the reasoning is clear. 

“Yeah. I’m not in trouble.” 

He heard Dust scoff as he turned a corner around the kelp. Cross scowls, but shakes his head. That’s not his battle. Not an important one, at that. He had other things to be worried about, like Killer. He had to talk to her before she blabbed her mouth off just so she could suck Nightmare’s tit or something like that. 

He shudders at the visual as he pushes past the kelp and swims toward the dead zone. On his way there, he makes sure to swim past Killer’s typical sunbathing spots or any hunting grounds to ensure that he doesn’t miss her outside. It doesn’t slow him down, though. It’s more important he reaches the dead zone to verify whether she’s there or not first and work it out from there. 

He doesn’t see Killer anywhere, doesn’t smell Killer anywhere. His heart sinks as he rings his wrists anxiously at his approach in the dead zone. He drops the anxious demeanor as best he can when he enters the cave, so he doesn’t give Nightmare or Horror or Killer any reason to think there’s anything wrong. 

He knows Killer won’t be in her room of all places, but he checks anyway. When she’s not there, he ducks his head and heads toward Nightmare’s tunnel and peers into her room. He’s not allowed to enter without permission—he’s not Killer—but he’s allowed to float by the entrance. When he peers in, he immediately spots Killer, resting on her nest which she keeps opposite to Nightmare’s crevice where she sleeps. He’s not sure why Nightmare doesn’t keep Killer at her side at all times, since she seems obsessed with having her wrapped around her claw, but whatever. Maybe that’s part of the game for them. Doesn’t matter. 

He tries to quietly straighten his voice as he ducks his head. Killer doesn’t move. He tries again, louder this time. Still nothing. No, wait, Killer perks her head up… Cross can’t tell if she’s opened her eye sockets or not, and… Nope. She just rolled over. Great. 

He growls quietly as he rubs his skull anxiously. He glances back inside Nightmare’s room before he slowly and quietly swims inside, brushing past viney pink plants that make his skin crawl knowing what they’re for. He doesn’t move much further, whispering, “Killer.” 

Killer perks her head at him, finally acknowledging him. She has a grin on her cheeks now, eyeing him up and down it seems. She straightens her tail and lays one arm down and props her chin with the other, skeletal palm placed under her chin. “Crossy! I was wondering when you’d see me.” 

Cross’s brows lower. “What?” 

Killer scoffs. “Aw, c’mon. I know something, and you—” 

Cross hushes her, darting towards her without thinking, shushing her with a finger as he anxiously eyes Nightmare’s sleeping crevice. He quickly realizes his mistake and retracts his finger before Killer can chomp at it, and he hears the sucker snicker. “Don’t bite me,” he scolds her quietly. “And don’t give Nightmare any more ideas.” 

“I’d like to think I gave her plenty of idea already,” Killer remarks nonchalantly, lowering her raised hand onto the nest. 

“What did you tell her?!” Cross asks immediately, heart beating quickly in his chest. 

Killer’s grin grows. “Aw, relax, I was just messing with you. She’s still sleeping.” 

“Can we discuss this elsewhere?” Cross asks as calmly and as nicely as possible. In reality, he wants to reach over and tear out Killer’s cervical vertebrae one by one given his lack of a larynx. 

Killer hums quietly in thought. He can’t tell, but her eyes are likely moving over him in contemplation. She tilts her head coyly. “You seem to be in a rush.” 

Cross huffs. “I am. You know this. You’re not stupid.” 

Killer grins again. “Would you say I’m… smart, even?” 

Cross closes his eyes and holds a groan back in his throat. He opens them again to respond, “Yes. Yes you are. Now can we move?” 

Killer tuts him, shaking her head. “Say it.” 

He scowls. “You’re very, very smart. Very intuitive,” he says. “There. You happy now?” 

“Very happy. Not as happy as I will be when I tell Nightmare what you did, but you know.” She shrugs, eyes squinting with her grin as she pushes herself off the nest. “All’s well that ends well.” 

“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” Cross replies urgently. He refrains from grabbing her arm and tugging her out of the cave, so instead he opts to swim quickly out of the room, brushing past the plants. He waits for Killer, who ambles her way toward him without a care in the world. 

“Oh yeah? I bet,” Killer retorts. “I bet you’re all anxious, worried about Rain.” 

“Don’t!” Cross hisses under his breath. 

“Don’t what?” 

“Don’t say her name like that,” Cross warns her. “I don’t want Nightmare to—” 

“To find her? You did a piss-poor job at that, ya idiot,” Killer retorts. She barks out a laugh, too, a mocking one, as they swim away from Nightmare’s room. “I mean, hiding her IN our siren’s territory?” She chuckles, shaking her head disapprovingly. 

Cross growls at her from his throat, glaring. “I did what I could for someone I obviously care about.” He’s not one to give his enemy information—that’s why he doesn’t want Killer repeating your name—but this is all apparent information anyway. “I care about her, and I want her away from Nightmare. Ze doesn’t need her.” 

“On the contrary,” Killer muses, voice drawled and calculating. 

Cross stops, watching Killer. He doesn’t like that tone. “What.” 

Killer rolls her head to look at Cross from behind, tail curling behind her, smirking. “No… That would make you too anxious. You’re already so bent out of shape. Nightmare knows you’re hiding something. If I told you now, you might give up or lose your nerve… We can’t have that. You’re my friend. I don’t want to see you punished for a crime you committed.” 

Cross darts his gaze around. He doesn’t smell or see anybody, so all that’s left to do is seethe at Killer. “What the fuck are you talking about.” 

“Sirens can’t live without their creators, Cross,” Killer explains. “You know this, right?” She tilts her head, almost like she’s genuinely curious. 

It takes a moment to register her words. “What?” 

Killer squints her eyes before her eye sockets widen. “Wow.” She starts to laugh, and she lazily tries to hold it back as she shakes her head and looks away. She gesticulates as she speaks, waving her hands. “Well, you’ll learn the hard way. You need Nightmare, she needs Nightmare, I need Nightmare, Dust needs Nightmare, and so does Horror. We all do.” She shrugs, smirking still. “You know this.” 

“What do I know?” Cross demands, swimming closer to Killer and glaring directly in her face. Killer’s just messing with her, trying to get him to lose his nerve, trying to make him panic. He won’t fall for it. Not this time. She can’t gaslit him; it won’t work. 

Killer seems surprised. Perhaps she’s feigning it. She smirks at him, swimming back a few inches, if only for the space. “I’m not going to baby you, Cross. Figure it out.” 

Cross feels anger rise inside of him, but he quickly suppresses it as he bawls his fists. Killer seems to think they’re done, swimming past him, but Cross decides otherwise as he yanks her by the arm. Killer whips her head around, snapping her teeth in warning, but Cross puffs his chest and stares down at her. For a moment, nothing happens. Not until Killer rips her arm out of his grasp, perking a brow at him. 

“Don’t. Tell. Nightmare. Ze was never in the territory. Ze was just outside of it, that’s it. Don’t tell Nightmare—” 

“Don’t tell Nightmare what?” 

Killer and Nightmare whip their gazes back toward Nightmare’s room. Standing just at the end of the tunnel is the teal prick of Nightmare’s eyes, watching them, her voice lilted in interest. 

Cross’s heart stops for a second, he thinks. He sucks in a shaky breath, lowering himself to the ground. Killer doesn’t move. She just smirks down at Cross and swims over toward Nightmare, who moves closer to both of them, becoming visible. She swims around Nightmare, but doesn’t make contact, grinning cheekily at Cross. 

Cross gulps. “Just that I—” 

“Cross was just explaining to me that he didn’t want me to tell you he gave me extra fish last week,” Killer explains, brushing the side of her skull against Nightmare’s side. 

Her eye flits down at Killer, using her hand to push her head away. Cross can hear a quiet whine escape Killer as she sinks to the floor. Nightmare’s gaze lands back on Cross with a speculative gaze. “Oh really?” she questions. “Is that why he’s barely been meeting quota, then?” 

“Must be,” Killer agrees, squinting her eyes at Cross with a knowing look and a shit-eating grin. 

Cross gulps, looking back up at Nightmare. 

Nightmare’s smirking with a squint in her own eye. She knows better, Cross knows that. 

“I’m always open to hearing confessions,” she muses vaguely as she turns away. She has to pry Killer off of her again with an unbothered sigh, moving back into her room. Before Killer follows after her, she glances back at Cross, winking before she swims past the pink plants. 

Cross is left to clench his fists and grit his teeth. 

And then he remembers you. 

He whips around and swims outside of the cave, finding it dark outside. 

Perhaps it’s too late to see you, but, he remembers your words, remembering that visiting at night was an option. He wouldn’t be intruding, right? You didn’t need him anymore, not really… But maybe, just maybe you still wanted to be friends. Maybe you wouldn’t mind a check-up, even if you don’t wake up. 

He decides to swim toward you quickly before he has to return to sleep. 

In the end, he sees you asleep and decides against waking you up, but he patrols around the area to ensure there’s no sign of a threat. He doesn’t find anything, so he returns back to the dead zone to sleep, too.