Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You’d always loved the ocean. Your entire family had warned you from it for years, but the horizon and the waves always seemed to beckon to you.

To welcome you in its arms, when you’d been pushed away far too many times to count. 

You lost your mother when you were very young. You still vaguely remember her singing to you, being held in her arms, laying your head on her lap. 

You can remember her long eyelashes, and her thin fingers through your hair.

Your family didn’t really want you to. 

Your mom didn’t exactly die in some horrific accident, or through an illness. She just… disappeared. She told your grandparents she was simply going on a fishing trip with your father, who’d stayed working at sea throughout your entire childhood. He was there for your birth, apparently, but it wasn’t exactly an ego-booster to know your father took one look at you and fucked off.

She walked to the dock alone, and never came home.

Just like that, you were a legal orphan, and your grandparents were your only guardians. 

It was.. Fine. You loved your grandparents, loved your aunts and uncles and cousin.

You moved on, mostly. 

(Yeah, right. Who can possibly move on from that? You were fine for three years on autopilot, then you crumbled.)

You started painting. 

Your therapist wanted you to try different hobbies so you’d have a good coping mechanism, and you remembered your mother painting, so…

You painted.

Your skill developed, fast. You barely felt alive, but you were winning awards and travelling to neighboring cities for galleries and ceremonies, learning to drive your mothers car because your grandparents were getting too old to drive you everywhere.

You wonder, quietly, if it hurt them, to watch the little red convertible pull into the driveway again for the first time after a decade.

You wonder if they thought, just for a moment, that their daughter was coming home.

She never does.

You broke the cycle. You stopped letting time race by, and started to really focus on your life. You started selling art at marketplaces, getting your name out there, started looking into colleges, started caring.

Your uncle, though he acted much more like a brother, was your rock through it all. He didn’t have a wife or kids, all he had was his parents, his brother’s family, and you.

He took you out every weekend, walked the pier with you nightly, and watched the sunset with you. 

You were maybe seventeen when he’d got his daughter. She looked nothing like him, all like her mother, but god did her mother not want her.

Your uncle was a good person, and despite having little want for children, took her in.

Chara. 

She was your cousin, but she really acted like a little sister. You balanced sales, school, and brother-sister bonding like a pro, braiding her hair and playing hopscotch, Barbie, Wii, anything she wanted.

You got into the college you wanted without struggle. It was incredibly local, but still an achievement. Your uncle was so excited because hey! He went there too!

He doesn’t get to see his daughter’s first day of school.

He doesn’t get to see you walk at graduation. 

You were seventeen. He’d asked you if you wanted to walk with him down the pier again, but you were studying for some final, so you refused.

He never came home.

Chara was bounced between your other uncle and his wife, and your grandparents. They already had a daughter, just a bit older than Chara, and they got along fine, but your grandparents, and you were her main caretakers.

Your family grew to hate the sea, but god did you love the horror in it.

Maybe if you let the waves take you, you’d find the rest of your family.

Maybe you’d find home.

You cry as you walk at graduation, your uncles’ silver chain clipped securely around your neck, and your mother’s diamond earrings resting comfortably in your earlobes.

You go to college on a full scholarship. Being an orphan who’s caretakers were just diagnosed with cancer gave you some fucking perks, you suppose. 

You major in Painting. 

…And in Marine Zoology. 

Maybe, if you can tame your longing for the sea through knowledge, you’d find a new home.

Maybe you could find your old one.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

Walking through the doors of the world’s largest aquarium was a little crazy to you. You’d traveled damn near across the country for this opportunity, and you’d be damned if you fucked it up. Your uncle’s old friend had a couple strings, and he pulled for you to land this job, as a last homage to his lost friend.

Your uncle doing you one last favor, even long gone.

The black floors are surprisingly clean, and pleasant to walk on as the bottoms of your Doc Martens tap satisfyingly against the granite tile. You try your best not to look lost as you scan your surroundings, taking in the slightly damp, cool air and the chest-achingly tall glass walls filled with seawater and life . Thousands of fish swim in circles with their little pods, and your eye catches on the occasional brightly colored fish, or sharp-finned shark as it passes you behind the thick glass.

You can’t help but grin, your lip curling over your canine as you watch the creatures swim.

Kinda makes you hungry. 

You turn back, glancing to the middle back of the lobby room to find the large desk, a young woman quietly tapping away at her computer screen before she notices you approaching. She lights you up with a smile, her very complicatedly manicured hand lifts up to brush her hair out of her face. “Hi! Welcome to Ebott Capitol Aquarium, how can I help you?”

You smile and give her a light wave, silently wishing you had fixed your chipped, black nail polish before coming. You grip the strap of your tote bag to subtly hide your nails. “I’m uh, I’m the painter guy?” 

She paused for a moment before checking her computer and nodded, “Oh, yeah! I got an email about you! Mr.. Leonardo?”

Your face heats, “Ah, yeah. Just Leo’s fine. Or my first name. That’s also fine.”

Your last name was something you were often teased for as a child. Especially because it was originally an Italian name, and you were definitely not Italian (Or, if you are Italian, you sure as hell didn’t know). It wasn’t until you got into high school that you’d finally convinced your teachers to call your last name as Leo on the roll sheet.

She raises a brow, perfectly shaped, and quirks a small smile, “Mr. Leo, then.”

You offer a wry smile, “Is there a.. A badge I need? Or some sort of security clearance or..?”

She perks up and nods, “Oh, yeah! You need…” She turns around and digs around inside one of the small drawers behind her, “This! You need this.” She turns around and hands you a metal pin, the black vinyl glinting under the overhead lights. 

It was a little heavy for a pin, but clipped onto your shirt easily and didn’t draw the fabric at all. “So, does the staff know what this means?” It was a little paint palette. Cute.

She nods again, “Yep! There's a chip inside that should let magnetically unlock certain doors. You have security clearance two.”

You did not know what that meant, but you’d take it! You give her a big thumbs up, glancing at the nametag clipped to her shirt, “Thanks so much, Audrey. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you lots!”

She flashes you a smile, calling out, “No problem!” over her shoulder as you walk into the main area, immediately taken aback by the beauty of it all. There was so much life , ever moving and shifting within the glass walls.

And you gotta paint it.

You got incredibly lucky to land a position painting wildlife murals on the walls of the biggest, most impressive, aquarium in the world. Home of the sirens.

Maybe you would get to make a little magic too!

You didn’t think you’d ever be able to sing like one of the creatures, but maybe you could create art and pure wonder like they could.

You’d have to be pretty lucky though, considering your first gig was to paint some goldfish in the corner.

˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹  ࣪˖

Hundreds of children and their parents pass behind you, looking either gleeful at the pretty goldfish you were near, or woefully bored at the incredibly popular fish. You struggle not to snicker at them, curious as to why they were even in this section if they didn’t want to see more common sea life, until you hear a teen girl and her assumed boyfriend’s conversion as they walk by. 

“It’s not even that I’m not having fun or that I don’t like normal fish, this is really cool, but I feel like they shouldn’t advertise their siren exhibit so hard if they’re going to close it at random. We could’ve come another time, you know?” She’s about average height, her ginger hair pulled into pigtails with small braids feeding into each side.

The tall boy nods at her, shaking his fluffy hair from his eyes, “Yeah, I mean it was a really long drive. They should’ve put it on the website that it was closed. I’m not driving another twelve hours for it to be shut down again.”

The girl, who you notice to be wearing a beautiful sun-shaped ring on her left ring finger, a red gem set in the center, smiles up at him, “Not even for me?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s playful when he nudges her, “You got your license, you drive.”

She perks up, “You’ll let me drive your car?”

He immediately backtracks, waving his hands as they walk out of earshot, “No, no, absolut-”

You smile fondly and get back to painting. Young love. 

So the siren exhibit was closed? It strikes you as a little odd, seeing as the aquarium is known for its incredibly impressive collection. No aquarium in the world had been able to capture a siren (without immediately killing it), and Ebott Capitol Aquarium housed seven.   

It was really odd that the aquarium hadn’t notified guests either, but you assumed they simply forgot to, perhaps in a rush, or because feeding ran late or something. 

You dip your paint brush back into your palette and get to work on completing the fins of the first goldfish. You were pretty much given full creative freedom. Admin just told you what animal to paint where, and the rest was all up to you. Yay. 

You hum softly along to the faint music playing overhead, bobbing subtly to the beat. You delight in seeing the fish in the tank to your right swimming near you, seemingly dancing as well. You grin and press the back of your hand to the cool glass, calm and happy as the fish graze the glass you’re touching before darting away as a shadow blocks out the overhead light’s glare from the shiny surface. You startle, whipping around to see a tall woman. Or. Taller than you, at least. 

She seems to startle as well, “Sorry! You’re Mr. Leonardo, right?” 

You wince, “Leonardo’s.. Eh. Just Leo or,” you tell her your first name, “is fine.”

Her cheeks darken, “Yeah! Uh, You can call me Rocket!” 

You blink but find ‘Rocket’ as a name fitting enough for her. Her hair was braided into space buns! However, there is not much else about her that exactly fits that theme. Her skin was dark with black eyeliner applied on her bottom eyelids, barely missing her waterline, and bright pops of green and pink shading her top lids. She had the frog from Hello Kitty on her belt, completing her work uniform in an especially playful way, considering she was most definitely a manager with a great white shark pinned to her shirt.

You nod, offering your hand before rethinking and pulling back a little just in case, “Sorry, I’m covered in paint, it’s nice to meet you!”

She waves you off and shakes your hand anyway, “It’s no problem! It’s nice to meet you too! You’re on goldfish today, right?”

You nod and gesture to the painting, scratching lightly at your neck, “Yeah! I think they said sea horses tomorrow, then whale sharks?”

Rocket nods immediately, “Yup! You have over two weeks to paint the whale sharks though, since they’re a full sized mural.”

You hum, “Cool!”

You kind of just stare at her for a moment, unsure if she just came up to you to meet you or if she had something to tell you.

She perks up, “Oh, yeah! We just wanted to let you know that the Siren exhibit is closed, and to tell any guest that asks, that there’s nothing to worry about! The exhibit should be open by tomorrow.”

You blink, “What happened?”

Rocket smiles, “Oh, don’t worry about it! Just deep cleaning the tanks, new water, you know!”

Oh, yeah, that made sense. You guess! “Oh, okay. I haven’t had anyone talk to me yet, but, uh, yeah! I’ll let them know for sure!”

She nods, “Perfect!” She moves to leave before pausing, “Oh, and I’d steer clear of that area.” 

You watch as she walks away, heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Huh. Uh. Okay?

You shrug and get back to painting. You didn’t plan on going over there anyway. You’re content to paint your goldfish, thanks.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You take your lunch break about four hours into your eight hour shift, looking around for the food area for a solid ten minutes before you find it by actually reading the signage instead of mindlessly wandering. You order a crab salad since you’d been craving it for ages, and look around for an empty table for a while before you notice staff seating in the back corner. There’s an empty table, so you sit down there and hope people either leave you alone, or if they come sit with you, they’re kind.  

You’re by yourself for a solid five minutes when someone approaches the table, brushing their hair out of their face with a smile, “Hey, can I sit here?”

You glance up to see a tall diver, still in their wet suit, even if they weren’t wet. You smile and nod, and they plop down next to you, a fish burger in hand. “Hi!” You tell them your name and they offer you a fist bump, which you immediately bump back.

“I’m Alex. You’re the new guy, right? The one painting the murals?”

You nod, thumbing at your little paint pallet pin, “Yeah! I’m guessing the pin gave me away?”

Alex laughs, fixing their glasses and shifting in their seat, “That and the fact that I’ve literally never seen you before. For how big this aquarium is, the staff is pretty small.”

You take a bite of your salad and hum, “Oohhh.. Oh. That’s kind of odd.”

They shrug, “We get the job done. I’m in charge of the octopus section.”

“Oh, cool! I guess I should’ve assumed, haha!” You gesture loosely at the octopus pinned to their shirt.

They wave you off with a laugh, “It’s your first day, I’m sure you’ve got other stuff on your mind.”

You smile and nod, letting the conversation fade as you eat. You’re an unfortunately fast eater, and you finish long before Alex. You wait for them to finish, making small talk in the process until you’re both getting up. They offer to take your trash to the bin on their way back to the employees only door they came from, and you let them. Alex wiggles their fingers at you to say bye, calling out, “Nice to meet you,” with which you agree, before dipping into the dark gray door. 

You hum quietly, curious as to if you’re allowed back there, and what is back there, before you wander back to the small fish section and get back to work on painting your goldfish.

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

You finish the mini-mural a solid two hours early, so you decide to start on your seahorses for tomorrow, figuring they’d take you much longer with all the detail.  You carefully pack your paints back into your bag before giving the painting one last look over. Satisfied, you move on.

It’s a decent walk, since the wall they wanted you to paint was damn near on the other side of the aquarium. You pass the large wall you need to start on soon, already picturing the whale sharks you’re going to paint there and the compositions you could use to fill the space as much as possible. You startle when you see movement in the corner of your eye, turning to see a giant whale shark coasting past the glance. You watch with bated breath, staring at it with wide eyes and a hand on your chest. Everything in the aquarium is huge to the point of giving you genuine anxiety every time you look up. 

You place the back of your hand gently against the glass, taking a deep breath and moving on. The tanks closer to the seahorses were much smaller, though you did have to pass the huge double doors that lead to the siren section, shadowed with the overhead lights shut off. A large sign announcing its closure hangs from a chain strung horizontally across the entrance, and you keep your distance. Rocket had given you.. Off vibes. You’d listen to her for sure, but.

Hhhhh. Odd.

You make your way into the back of the aquarium finding the small column of empty wall next to a couple tanks of seahorses, as well as the occasional sea dragon, which you were delighted to see. They were your Mom’s favorite. 

Tugging on your tote bag, you drag your paint back out, checking the time and nodding to yourself. You still had almost two hours and this section of the aquarium was mostly abandoned so you didn’t hesitate to start. 

You pick out a dark orange to block out the shapes of the first seahorse, finishing the first coat when a staff only door opens near you. You look up, curious, and spot a short skeleton monster. He notices you, and offers a little wave before stuffing his hands back in his pockets. “hey. you’re the painter kid, right?”  

You stand straighter and wave, “Hey! Yeah!” You tell him your name, and he nods, offering you a casual smile.

“sans. the skeleton.” 

You smile back, glad to see another friendly face after the oddness that was your first interaction, “I see that. What do you do here?”

He leans on a nearby column and hums, “‘m a scientist, with a minor in marine biology. basically, i help with tank maintenance.”

You smiled and flashed him a thumbs up, “Hey! I have a major in marine biology, too!”

He pauses, glances at your painting behind you, then smirks, “double major?”

You glance back at the unfinished seahorse and laugh, “Ah, yeah. Painting too. How long have you worked here?”

Sans tilts his head in thought, “two or three years, i think?”

Monsters as a species didn’t arrive on the surface until about eight years ago. Sirens were known of, vaguely, but the inhuman ones were a mystery until the barrier broke. “Have you.. Uh, enjoyed it here?”

He raises a brow, “working here or living here?”

You blush, “Working here, mainly, but I did just move here… so if you happen to have any tips..”

Sans laughs and straightens, “it’s fine. ‘m really just here because my brother likes this area and this was the only job i could find that used my degrees. as for living here, it’s… fine? depends on what part of town you live in, but the salary here is good and for the most part, this city’s as good of a place to be as any.”

You nod, remembering how many anti-monster establishments were in your hometown compared to here. “That’s great! What does your brother do?”

His expression immediately softens, and you beckon him closer so you can listen to him while you paint. He follows and leans on the wall next to the painting, leaving enough space to let you comfortably lean over the spot you needed to without bumping him. “my brother’s a lifeguard at the beach down the street. skeletons don’t need to breathe, hehe, the air goes right through us, so he’s really safe. and we’ve got blue magic, so..”

You glance up from the painting, “That’s gravity magic, right?”

Sans blinks, looking back to you from his previous staring at a seahorse tank, “you know about magic types?”

You smile and nod, turning back to the wall, beginning to put in the lights and mid-tones. “Yeah! I had a bunch of monster friends in high school and college, especially with my painting degree. And I used to be a waiter at Swirl’s cafe, so I met a lot of people there. You pick stuff up.”

Sans hums next to you, “huh. oh, hey, weren’t you supposed to be painting the goldfish today or something? we got an email about a mysterious mural artist that was coming to liven the place up, and they gave us your schedule to tell us to leave you alone but..”

You snicker, “I don’t mind company! I already finished the goldfish, but I’m still on the clock so I just started this one while I’m still here.”

Sans nods a little, glances around the corners of the ceiling before speaking softly, “just be careful around the siren section. ‘m under nda, so i can’t say anything really, but.. i would steer clear of that area until it’s reopened to the public.”

You startle a little, but nod, “Oh, okay! Thank you.” You are more inclined to listen to Sans, since his warning appeared to come from genuine concern, as to your manager’s vague order.

The skeleton gives you another casual smile and pushes off the wall, “welp, good luck, kid.” 

You wave him bye as he walks towards the main entrance, before getting back to work without a hitch. What a guy. 

You’re a little too focused on replaying the interaction in your head and painting to notice the faint humming from the other side of the wall.

₊🖌⊹♡

Two hours is up in a flash, and you’d gotten a varied amount of the bases of the five seahorses you’d been commissioned. You hum at your watch as you quickly pack your tote bag up and walk to the main desk, waving bye to Audrey after you clocked out. She gave you a wave as you left, smiling at the sunset as it lit the sky with oranges and reds. 

You stretch before hopping into your mom’s old car and driving silently back to your small apartment near the beach. You drop your bag by the door and kick your shoes off with little fanfare, dragging your shirt over your head as you walk into your bedroom, already yawning as you attempt to pull your top away from tugging at the surgery scars lining the bottoms of your pecs. You slip on a soft hoodie and kick off your work pants before collapsing into bed. 

Your day wasn’t particularly hard, no, but as your first day, it caused you a lot of anxiety, and your social battery was already spent from talking to a whole four new people. 

You sigh dramatically and curl under your covers. 

You’re unable to fall asleep for another couple hours, but you’re able to play on your phone and relax until sleep takes you, and that’s comforting enough.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺˚₊✧

Chapter Text

Waking up early for this job physically pains you. You yawn, genuinely devastated to leave the warmth of your bed as you contemplate skipping, but drag the blankets off and force yourself up.

Once you’re moving, it’s not so bad. 

You stretch, feeling your muscles flex sweetly before you relax, walking to your dresser and pulling out overalls and a t-shirt.

 The dark denim overalls were already stained with paint from your teens, so you had painted bright blue and white doodles of sharks all over them. Your hair, cut short, looks surprisingly good for being slept on, so you opt not to put it in a beanie, simply pinning a little cartoon fish clip into your hair for style. Your uncle’s silver chain is placed around your neck before you throw a jacket over your outfit and pin the little paint pallet onto the breast pocket.

You hurriedly slip on your shoes before walking out to door, increasingly aware that you’re going to be late if you don’t go-

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

You make it to work with a solid two minutes to spare. You wave sheepishly to Audrey, who laughs at you for nearly being late but doesn’t scold you, before clocking in. You scurry to the corner you had started painting in, wanting to get shit done because only four days for even a partial mural was a little insane. However, they are paying you a lot to get it done quickly, so you’re not all that pissed about pressure or speed. You tend to work fast anyway, so this arrangement works better for you in the long run for sure. 

You place your bag of paints on the floor near the wall, crouching to dig the colors you need out. You’d remembered to bring your headphones today, which was a godsend because your Generation 2 Airpods worked fine but you happen to have Sony WH-1000XM4 noise cancelling headphones, and wow was your work day much more pleasant already. 

You get decent progress into adding shape and dimension into the main seahorse, bobbing your head to your favorite summer playlist, something you’d made way back in your junior year of highschool, when you feel a tap on the wall through the base of the bristles on your paintbrush. You glance up and grin when you see Sans leaning against the wall, knocking his knuckle against it to get your attention. 

You slip your headphones off, and they immediately stop playing music. “Hey! Morning!”

Sans raises a brow, “you like mornings?” 

You can tell he doesn’t by the way his clothes are minorly disheveled, and the slight shadows under his sockets. You snicker, returning your attention to our seahorses, “Hell no. I could sleep till two if I didn’t need a job.”

He quirks a grin, “you and me both, bud. my brother would freak, though.” 

You smile, leaning closer to the wall to nail some of the smaller details of the seahorses’ face, keeping the reflections in the eyes consistent with the actual lighting in the room to make it look even more real. “He sounds like he keeps you in check. Little brother, right?”

Sans snorts, tapping something on his watch, “ little as in younger, yeah. paps is anything but small.”

You don’t get the joke, but Sans is decently short, so you assume he just means Papyrus is a good bit taller than him. You huff a laugh anyway, working down the main seahorse to nail the rest of the normal color and detail, before beginning to plan out where you wanted to put bubbles. The reflections are kind of a pain in the ass, so you decided to wait till you’re in the zone to really start. You’re far more interested in Sans and his brother anyway. “Does he save people super often? You’d think with all the sirens found and held here people would be a little more wary of the water, but it just ups the appeal at this point.”

Sans snorts, fixing his shirt to lay more smooth, “you would not believe. lots of riptides around here. swimmer survival rate went up by sixteen percent when paps first started working there. ‘s up to twenty six, now.”

It should strike you as odd that he has that memorized, but it’s clear this guy loves his brother, and it’s not weird to be proud of his achievements. “That’s incredible!! It’s really cool to have someone really keeping us safe out there.”

The short skeleton preens, grinning subtly into his shirt collar before clearing his throat, “yeah. he’s pretty cool. you’ve got skills, too. this is really fast for a mural.”

You grin and shrug, “I normally work pretty fast. The sooner I can finish this, the sooner i can work on the whales, which are really going to take a long time.”

Sans whistles through his teeth, something that sounds strangely familiar, but you’ve definitely never spoken to another skeleton monster before, so you’re certain you’re confusing yourself. “good luck with that, kid. where is that supposed to be painted again?”

You bring up your mental map of the aquarium, looking up as you try to remember, “The uh,, the really big wall right next to the Whale Shark tank. The super tall one.”

Sans nods once, “they’re gonna have you on scaffolding, but at least you’ll be farther from the siren tanks.”

You pause, aware that the seahorse area that you’ve been painting in is the room next to the siren room, but you hadn’t realized you were close to the tanks specifically. “What do you mean?”

The skeleton monster glances at your headphones, then the camera across the room in the corner. “nothin’ to worry about. the noise systems here are pretty good. just be careful, you know. wild animals and stuff.” His smile is as casual as ever, but he looks nervous as he walks back into the maintenance room.

Huh.

Okay?

You put your headphones back on and jam out to Ayesha Erotica for the remainder of your shift, glad your expensive headphones do their job in blocking out all the sounds that fill the building as customers arrive and leave. You pretty much finish everything, save some final touches, but you’re in the zone so even as the crowd leaves, then the stragglers, then most of the staff, you stay where you are, watching the creatures come to life with each stroke of your brush. 

You notice two hours later, when you finally finish, that there are no security guards in this sector of the aquarium. You glance around, suddenly realizing that you stayed later than intended and you could one hundred percent get in trouble for this. 

Shit. 

You spray your mural down with your favorite clear sealant and varnish before tossing the can in your bag and getting the fuck out. 

It doesn’t occur to you that you forgot to clock out until you’re home, locking your car and pausing outside of your door. 

“... Shit.”

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗

You clock in on time the next morning. Audrey does little then mention offhandedly, “Oh, you forgot to clock out yesterday. I fixed it for you, don’t worry about it.”

You thank her earnestly, and apologize for it, but she just smiles and waves you off. 

Your hands are still shaking a little as you make your way back to your station to check that your varish dried right, and to give it a second coat. No one talks to you, so you figure you’re fine for now. The aquarium hasn’t opened yet, so it’s much quieter than usual, but the silence doesn’t feel right. 

You can feel it. 

Something happened. 

You just hope it has nothing to do with you. 

You’re finishing the second coat of varnish, happy with the drying of the first coat, when Rocket enters the room, a wild look in her eye. She stands next to you, a little frantic as she waits for you to take your headphones off. You do, immediately pushing them to rest around your neck. She smiles nervously, the gloss on her lips looking very fresh. “Hey! So! You were here late last night!”

You feel your spine lock, and you hope she can’t tell you’re sweating. “Oh, uh, yeah. I really wanted to finish while I was in the zone and lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

She visually analyses your face. “And… And you didn’t see anything last night? H-Hear anything?”

You get the feeling you were right about your past feelings. Something happened. “Uh, no, I was really focused on painting, and my headphones are sound proof. Did something happen last night?”

Rocket stares at you for a long moment, “...Nothing of your concern. I wouldn’t recommend staying late again, at least not until the siren exhibit reopens to the public.”

You nod firmly, and grab your bag, “Yes Ma’am. Am I okay to begin working on the Whale Shark mural?”

She blinks, then looks at your finished seahorse mural. “Oh. Uh, we don’t have the scaffolding yet. You finished a little too early. But, you can look around the Aquarium if you want? You’ll still get paid and stuff, but… yeah. Or you can go home. And still be paid. I would go home.”

You get the feeling she wants you to leave. 

But. 

You actually haven’t had the chance to explore the aquarium yet. Or meet people. So. Yeah, no, you’re not leaving. You nod to her, grab your bag, and walk away, “Thank you!”

You pointedly don’t say where you’re going, but you do actually want to drop off your paint in your car, because it’s kind of heavy and you don’t want to carry it anywhere and you don’t want to leave it out to get stolen. Hard pass.

After tossing it in the trunk of your mom’s old car, you re-enter the aquarium, putting your headphones back on because customers are starting to arrive and you don’t like people that much. You decide to take today to actually learn your way around the aquarium, which you have a feeling will end with you being horribly lost, but you’re okay with that. You pass the cafeteria and hesitate, the back of your throat aching with light hunger. 

…

You cave and buy another crab salad. It’s not your fault they’re delicious. Kani Salad is probably your favorite thing ever. Hhhh. You eat it quickly, then throw your trash away (recycling what you can), before making your way to the area just a bit deeper into the aquarium, stretching a little. You know the big room at the front of the aquarium, on the other side from the goldfish, is just the gift shop, and you refuse to spend money here. You will only be making  money here, thank you.

The first exhibit you see is filled with people, so you ignore it for now, walking a little further and finding a nearly empty room. You duck inside, looking around and quickly realizing they have fucking penguins here. You grin, looking into the large enclosure, and finding none. You reckon that’s probably why no one’s in here. You hum, about to leave, when you see a young woman in an aquarium uniform, struggling to drag a crate into the employees only door in the corner. You perk up at the sight of another, waving gently to her. She glances up to you, then straightens, a hand pushing her glasses back into place. “Oh! Hey.”

You wave again, “Want help?”

She glances at your pin, then nods, “Would be great. I’m Sara. You must be the painter guy.”

You snicker, giving her your name, “But Leo’s fine, too.” 

Sara nods, her wavy brown hair bouncing with the movement. She bends back down and begins dragging the crate again, so you quickly step to the other side of the box and push with her. In the low light of the Employees only hallway, and the brighter lights from the still open doorway, you can see the sharp glint of a glare on her shirt, which you realize is the metal of her penguin pin secured on the breast pocket. 

You follow her lead until you reach a secret-looking enclosure filled with penguins. She holds out a hand, and you fist bump her with a smile. “Thanks.”

You nod, leaning back on your heels, “No problem.”

You feel kind of awkward, with the odd sense that you’d seen her before, but figure she’s pretty busy, and head out of her way. 

You go back the way you came, scratching the back of your neck in effort to get rid of the odd feeling, and cutting through the penguin exhibit to look through the lightly populated octopus section. You catch a glimpse of Alex in a tank with an octopus on their shoulders, and you laugh softly, waving. A flurry of bubbles escapes their mask, and they wave back to you.

You grin and walk back out, figuring you’ll check out the octopus exhibit again another time, when there aren’t so many people. You find yourself back in the Seahorse exhibit, gently tracing your now dried painting on the wall. You look around the tanks, keeping our hands off the freshly cleaned glass. There is a small selection of Sea-Dragons, and a pink one that vaguely reminds you of your mom. Pink was her favorite color. 

The thought makes you pause for a moment, and the lack of attention is probably what leads up to Sans startling the hell out of you. 

You jump back, and whip to face him, yanking your headphones off. He steps back, raising his hands in a placating motion, “hey, woah, sorry,” He laughs softly as you rest a hand over your heart, catching your breath, “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

You laugh breathlessly and wave him off, “You’re fine! I should’ve turned off the noise canceling.”

He pauses, glancing at your painting, then your headphones. Quietly, he mutters, “noise cancelling..” before shaking his head, “nah, you should keep that on, bud. i heard you stayed a little late last night. did rocket give you too much trouble?”

You almost startle again, but Sans questioning doesn’t feel like it’s coming from a bad place, so you straighten, rubbing your upper arms, “Oh, not really. Just asked me if I saw anything, or uh…” You tentatively tap your fingertips to the speakers of your headphones, “heard anything.” 

Sans seems to scan your face before fixing his posture, “..yeah. i just wanted to check on you, cuz rocket can be… you know.” You feel like you do, at least. He huffs softly, shifting his weight onto his heels, “she’s not bad or anything, she just cares about her job. but.. yeah. your painting looks great.” 

You could call him out for changing the topic, but you welcome the change, relaxing a little, “Oh, uh, thank you!”

He gives you an easy smile, and offers a fist bump, which you immediately reciprocate. 

The interaction is so odd that you barely even question the fact that he just disappears after. You stare into the space he just occupied, then your still outstretched hand. 

“...What the actual fuck.”