Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Travis was walking home along the boardwalk one night, whistling a song. What is that song? he wondered absently. He trailed his hand along the railing, whistling the melody a little slower. Where the fuck did he know that song from?

The moon was just a tiny sliver in the cloudless night sky, but it was shining brighter than he had ever seen. The ocean was oddly still, he noticed, black and as flat as a mirror. The boardwalk was quiet, too, all the businesses closed for the night, chairs stacked in front of the cafe, the bars over the window of the souvenir shop. The doors of the movie theater were closed and the ticket booth was empty.

He lived above the movie theater in a little apartment. The sign and all the marquee lights were dark, but the motion sensor light above the small door to the side switched on as he approached. He took his keys out of his pocket, tossing them up in the air and catching them. The jangling sound rang out across the quiet night. 

He was about to unlock his door when he heard it. Loud splashing. He paused, tilting his head as he listened. Silence - and then he heard it again. Loud, frenzied splashing. It was probably just animals fighting over a fish - but still, he wandered over to the other side of the boardwalk and leaned over the railing, looking around until he saw something pale and relatively large splashing around in the water. He frowned, looking closer - was it some kind of white seal? And then a hand appeared above the surface for a moment before disappearing again.

It was a person, he realized with a rush of adrenaline, and they were clearly drowning. He paused for less than a second, glancing around at the empty boardwalk and all the darkened windows, then ripped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. They had barely hit the boardwalk with a thud before he was climbing over the railing and diving into the water.

He swam as fast as he could, arms cutting through the flat water. The splashing had stopped, and he could still see the pale shape sinking down towards the bottom, tangled in a swathe of seaweed. He took a deep breath, then kicked hard and dove down towards them. The person was limp in his arms as he pulled them to the surface. He managed to get them up onto the boardwalk, then hauled himself up after.

It was a woman, and she wasn’t breathing. He caught his breath, then quickly turned her onto her back, tipping her chin up gently. She was beautiful, he realized suddenly, trying not to get distracted by it as he put his ear to her mouth to double-check that she wasn’t breathing. He looked down at her chest to see if it was moving - and realized that she was naked. He had thought she was tangled in seaweed - but it was hair, dark gold and endless, and it wrapped around most of her body. She also had odd, pale, spiky jewelry at her neck, wrists and around her waist, made of what looked like bones and sea glass and pearls - so many pearls - but otherwise she wasn’t wearing anything.

He knelt above her and pulled the hair and jewelry off of her chest, then carefully placed both large hands above her heart and started compressions. He counted to thirty, then pinched her nose, leaned over and pressed his mouth to hers, blowing into her mouth. To his relief, her chest expanded, and as he gave her another breath, she started to cough.

He leaned back on his knees as her eyelashes fluttered on her cheek. She opened her eyes, and they were the most astonishing bright blue. She was gasping for breath, and he didn’t even notice that he started breathing in time with her as if it would help.

“Hey - you okay?” he asked gently. “You almost drowned.”

She stared at him, bare chest heaving, coral lips hanging open. She was beautiful, he noticed again. Possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her exquisite face looked like it was carved from alabaster, flawless and glowing in the moonlight. There was something regal about her high cheekbones, her delicate chin and the long line of her neck.

“You alright?” he asked. “Hey - here-” He grabbed his t-shirt from where he had dropped it and held it out to her, but she just stared at him, eyes wide. He carefully draped it over her instead, covering the important parts, and leaned back again.

She glanced down at the t-shirt, then back at him. Her mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. She clutched her throat, a panic rising in her eyes.

“Hey - you’re okay,” he said soothingly. “Do you understand me?”

After a moment, she nodded slowly.

“Do you know your name?”

Her face grew stricken as she tried to speak again. Finally, she shook her head, staring at him helplessly.

“That’s okay, that’s okay,” he said. He glanced up and down the boardwalk, still empty, then back at her. “I’m not trying to be weird or anything - but do you want to come inside? I live just here.” He pointed behind him at the movie theater.

She stared at him for another long moment, then nodded slowly.

“What about your legs?” he asked. “You okay to walk?”

Her eyes widened, and then she looked down at her own legs and her mouth fell open as if she had never seen them before. She reached out a hand and ran it over her knee, then down her shin, before looking back up at him with a strange look on her face.

“Do they hurt?” he asked gently, not sure what was going on.

She hesitated, then nodded, eyebrows knitting in frustration.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I got you - okay?” 

Her arms went around his neck as he slid one arm around her back and the other under her knees. He had forgotten that she wasn’t actually wearing his shirt as he stood up holding her and it fell to her waist, caught between them. She pressed herself to him, her breasts soft and wet against his bare chest, her strange jewelry digging into his skin. He carried her over to the door of his apartment and her arms around his neck tightened as he dug in his pocket for his keys.

He climbed the stairs to his apartment with her in his arms, her hair trailing behind them. Inside, he put her down on the couch, then grabbed a sweatshirt from where it was hanging over the back of a chair, pulling it on over his damp chest. He gave her some water, and she took a sip, making a curious face as if it tasted weird.

Travis knelt down in front of her. “Where you from?” he asked.

She took another sip of water, smacking her lips, then pressed them together and hummed a soft melody.

“What song is that?” he asked. “It sounds so… familiar…”

She just stared at him with her electric blue eyes.

“I’ll call 911,” he said. “Get you some help - maybe you should go to the hospital-”

She grabbed his arm and shook her head, staring at him desperately.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “The police - you know - they can help-”

She kept shaking her head. She opened her mouth, clearly trying to speak. All that came out was a low, strangled sound, and her face collapsed, stricken.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, trying to calm her down. He didn’t know why, but he started humming the same song he’d had stuck in his head on his walk home earlier.

She quieted, staring at him. Their eyes locked together, bright blue on gray-green. She was humming, too, and their voices blended together as the air went still around them. If he opened the door and found everything else gone, just his little apartment floating in the middle of the ocean, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Fine,” he whispered eventually, voice slipping soft and low out of his mouth. “I won’t - I won’t call anyone. Not yet. I don’t know - what your deal is - or where you came from… but I gotta be up early tomorrow, so… you can stay here, but just for tonight, okay? That’s it.”

Her eyes lit up, and she smiled at him, bright and warm. Before he realized it, a smooth, pale arm was around his neck, and her soft lips were pressing gently to his cheek.

“Yeah - yeah, it’s really no problem,” he said gruffly, patting her back gently.

He helped her put on his t-shirt properly, then carried her to his bed, and laid her down on it. He couldn’t help but notice that the necklace hanging from her neck appeared to feature several small vertebrae. He must have been more behind in fashion trends than he realized, because he’d never seen jewelry that looked so much like fish bones before. He pulled his blankets up over her, and her eyes were closed when he looked back up at her.

He stared at her for a moment, watching her breathe, then went back into the living room. He wrapped himself in a blanket and lay down on the couch, feet hanging off the edge. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep, what with all the excitement, but before he knew it he was drifting off into a wonderful, deep sleep. 

As he slept, he dreamed of the ocean and bright blue eyes.

Chapter Text

“Trav!”

Travis rubbed his eyes, blinking. It was morning, he realized, and in an instant, the events of last night came back to him. He would have sworn it was a dream, if he wasn’t about to fall off the couch.

“Travis!” came another yell. It was his brother’s voice.

Travis sat up. His body ached from sleeping on a couch that was too small for him.

He glanced at his phone and saw he had six missed calls, and that it was past eleven a.m.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He’d missed the big pancake breakfast for his mom. She was the mayor of their small coastal town, and she was running for reelection. Jason was his older brother, family favorite and de facto heir to the throne. And Travis was the foolish little brother, as always, who had just missed another opportunity to show his mom that he was as responsible as he claimed. Nevermind that he had approximately four and a half jobs and hadn’t asked for help with rent in years.

“Travis! I saw your truck out back! I know you’re fucking in there!”

“Jesus, okay!” Travis roared through the door. “I’m sorry I missed the breakfast - I’m not feeling well!”

“Fuck off,” Jason yelled.

Travis pulled off his sweatshirt, grabbed his blanket from the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders. He went to the sink and ran the water over his fingers for a second, then dabbed his fingers to his upper lip and forehead so it looked like beads of sweat. He went to the door and opened it a crack, pulling the blanket over his face as he faked a cough.

“Fuck, Trav,” Jason said, taking a step back. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Seriously, Jase, leave me alone,” Travis said. “I’m diseased. Save yourself while you still can.”

Jason chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said gruffly. “At least - call next time.”

“Okay, sorry,” said Travis. “Fine. Sorry, sorry.”

He watched as Jason went down his stairs and disappeared through the door at the bottom, then shut his door and threw off the blanket.

Quietly, he went to the door of his bedroom and peeked inside.

She was there. She was really there, her impossibly long, golden hair curling over his pillows. Her body looked tiny, curled into a ball beneath his duvet. One side of her delicate face peeked out from amongst all that hair, and he stared at her for a second, taking her in. Maybe she was an angel, he considered for one crazy moment.

Her nose twitched, and he watched as her eyes blinked open. She saw him in the doorway, and her fingers clutched at the edge of the blanket.

“Hey,” he said. “Morning. Feeling better?”

She just stared at him, eyes vivid blue and arresting.

“Sorry if that woke you up,” he said. “My brother. He didn’t know - I had a guest.”

She blinked at him, then started looking around the room. He glanced around, too. It was pretty minimal, but at least it was tidy, he thought.

He took a few steps into the room, and her head snapped around to look at him.

He put his hands up in the air. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “You alright? You feeling any better?”

She tilted her head as she looked at him.

“You do understand English, right?” he checked.

She nodded, and gave him a helpless look, touching her throat again.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured her, taking another step towards her. “I’m sorry - I bet this is really frustrating. Did you at least sleep alright?”

Slowly, she nodded, and then she was sitting up, blankets sliding from her shoulders. He could see the pale jewelry around her neck peeking out from his t-shirt. In the morning light, he was even more sure it was some kind of bone. She was still staring at him with her huge blue eyes.

“How are your legs?” he asked. “You think you can stand?”

She looked at him as if he had just said something amazing, and suddenly she threw off the blankets, revealing her long, bare legs. They both watched as she wiggled her toes, and then she looked over at him with a proud look on her face.

He chuckled softly. “Good sign,” he said, trying to sound normal. The way she looked with her long, pale legs stretching out, her hair pooling around her, a wide smile on her face, his t-shirt barely covering the tops of her thighs, in his bed - he was fine. He was a grown man. It should take more than this to get him riled up.

She swung her legs off the bed, and then stared up at him as she moved her bare feet around like she was testing the feel of the ground. He watched as she put her hands on the edge of the bed and stood up - or tried to. Her legs immediately started shaking, and she caught herself on the bed, bending over awkwardly, legs wobbling as she tried to balance.

There was something about her - he stepped closer, his hand out towards her, and she caught it in her own.

“Careful,” he said. “Looks like you’re still feeling a little off, huh?”

She stared up at him, and her hand curled around his like she had just realized she was holding it. It was so small compared to his. He suddenly remembered that he wasn’t wearing a shirt as her eyes ran over his chest. Slowly, she reached out and rested her fingertips over his heart, then ran her fingers gently through his curly hair down towards his belly. He gasped, a thrill running through him at her touch, then laughed in surprise. She pulled her hand away, looking at him apologetically.

“Never seen a man’s bare chest before?” he asked jokingly, trying to sound neutral on the topic. He steadied her one more time, then let her go, leaving her swaying slightly on her own two feet. 

She shook her head, then nodded, looking uncertain.

“Huh?” He went over to his dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and put it on. “Or maybe you’ve never seen one with quite so much hair, is that it?”

Her eyes widened, and then she nodded shortly.

He laughed, throwing back his head. “Gotcha. Well, some say I’m part yeti, but I’ve never had any testing done.”

She cocked her head, confused.

“Don’t know what yeti means?”

She shook her head.

“Well, that’s understandable. What about coffee? You know what that is?”

She shook her head again.

“Boy, are you in for a treat,” he told her, grinning.

She took a sip of the steaming cup, eyes going wide. She had a very expressive face, he thought to himself, and he really didn’t mind staring at it as he tried to figure out what she was thinking.

She took another sip, then pointed at something over his shoulder.

He turned around. While he was making coffee, he had noticed her fiddling with the letter magnets on his fridge that he used to help teach his niece how to spell, but he hadn’t realized what she was doing until he looked over.

WHERE

“Oh, my God… you’re a genius,” he said. “Of course!” 

He leapt up and went over to his desk. He grabbed a pen and found a thing of bright yellow Post-It notes. He brought them over to her and put them on the table in front of her, and she stared up at him, looking just as confused as ever.

“To write,” he said encouragingly. “Here, see?” He picked up the pen and wrote out his own name, then peeled the sticky note off and stuck it on the table. “That’s me. Travis. Nice to meet you, by the way.” 

Her mouth formed a small o as she watched him, and when he handed her the pen, she brought it close to her face to examine it.

“It’s a pen,” he told her patiently, feeling slightly silly.

She glanced at him, then took the pen awkwardly in her hand. He watched patiently as she spelled out: 

WHERE AM I?

“Where - where? You’re, uh, in my house - well, my apartment - in Pepper Cove. Washington. USA. Does that - any of that - mean anything to you?”

She bit her lip and shook her head. She looked more lost than ever, he thought.

“Hey - that’s okay,” he said gently. “I, uh, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you kinda seem like you’re probably traumatized or something. Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the police? They can probably help you more than I can-”

PLEASE?

“Please…?” He laughed, realizing the confusion. “No - no… Po-lice. The po-po? Here-” He wrote the word out in his blocky printing. 

She still looked confused. 

“Ummm… police… they, like, enforce the law,” he tried again.

Her eyes lit up in recognition.

“Law? Yeah, you know that word? Yeah - well - policemen - and women - officers - they catch bad guys and stuff. Well - sometimes… Sometimes they’re just a pain in the ass…”

She nodded slowly, staring at him. SOLDIERS?

“Soldiers? Uh - kinda…” he said, considering it. “Kinda - like - a local type of soldiers, I guess. But we also have an army.”

She shivered at the word.

“You know that word, too, huh?”

She nodded slowly again. WEAPONS, she wrote.

“Yeah…” he said. “Did they - did they hurt you? The army?”

She frowned, perfect eyebrows furrowing, then shook her head helplessly. DON’T KNOW.

“That’s okay,” he whispered. “Hey - I don’t suppose you remember your name?”

She stared at him for a second, then shook her head.

“Well - that’s fine,” he said. “All good. I think I’ll call you Pearl, though, if that’s alright with you. You’re wearing enough of ‘em.”

She put her hands up to feel her necklace, and smiled at him, bright and sudden. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“You like that?” he asked. “Pearl?”

She nodded, and then to his great surprise, she let out a soft, raspy giggle.

“Well… that’s a good start,” he said, grinning at her.

He went over to the kitchen and pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge. He whipped them up into a bowl, put some toast in the toaster and started cooking the eggs. He looked over to find Pearl watching him and he pressed his lips together in a smile, then turned back to the stove, thoughts racing through his head.

There was something different about her. In fact, she was more different than she wasn’t. But he felt as if he was under her spell in some way - and the idea of telling someone she was here - of passing off this stranger that had crashlanded in his life to some official person - made him feel as if he would be betraying her. She made him feel weird - in a good way - like he already knew the answers to things, but couldn’t quite put his finger on why. And he had an overwhelming instinct to protect her.

He also had an odd feeling that whatever made her so different would be a lot more important to other people. People with worse intentions than his, perhaps.

He loaded the eggs onto two plates, pulled the toast out of the toaster, and went over to the table. He set one plate in front of her, then sat down and started eating. She watched his hands carefully as he scooped up some eggs with his fork and brought them up to his mouth. Slowly, she picked up her fork and stabbed at the eggs on her plate. She tasted it tentatively, and looked up at him.

“You like it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She scribbled on the pad, then turned it to show him. MORE COFFEE PLEASE.

“Yeah? You like that, huh?" he asked, pouring more coffee into her mug. "Not the eggs? Or the toast?” 

She poured several teaspoons of salt into her coffee and stirred, then picked up the pen and wrote a word on the pad. 

FISH?

“Fish?” he repeated, confused. “Uh - um… I might have a couple cans of tuna somewhere… Let me check.”

He went over to the kitchen and found a few frozen filets of salmon, which he moved to the fridge to thaw. He started to look through his cupboards when there was a knock on the door.

He froze. What now? Since when did he have this many visitors on a Thursday morning?

“Travis? You home? It’s Claire!”

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, glancing over at Pearl. 

She stared at him, eyes wide.

“You - you just stay there, okay?” he whispered, putting his hand out. “Just - right there… don’t move. I’ll just - get rid of her.”

He went over to the door and opened it reluctantly.

There stood a woman wearing a pair of black trousers, a black blazer and a pink silk shirt. She had long dark hair, and her glossy pink lipstick looked freshly applied.

“Travis,” she said, frowning when she saw him. “You are home…”

“Oh - uh, yeah,” he said, thinking hard. “What, uh, what can I do for you, Claire?”

“I thought we were meeting at the breakfast this morning,” Claire said, pursing her lips and crossing her arms. “Your mom was so disappointed you weren't there.”

He rubbed his chin, making an apologetic face. “Oh - right - sorry,” he said. “Yeah - I forgot - I have a friend visiting. From out of town.”

“A friend?” she asked, craning her neck to try to look over his shoulder.

“That’s right,” he said firmly, putting his hand on the edge of the door to block her view. “Listen, Claire, I’ll call you later, okay?”

She looked even more disappointed, and when she held out her arms towards him, he couldn’t help but give her a hug. After a moment, he tried to pull back, but she gripped his arms, staring up at him and pursing his lips.

Reluctantly, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

Why did he feel like he could see Pearl’s bright blue eyes staring at him out of the corner of his eye?

Claire left, and Travis went back over to the kitchen. Pearl wasn’t at the table.

“Pearl?” he called.

She emerged from the door on the far wall, which led to a closet where he kept his wetsuits and heavy weather gear.

“What were you doing in there?” he asked, laughing.

She shrugged, staring at him with wide eyes, then scribbled out a word and held it up.

WIFE?

He laughed out loud. “No - no, no," he said quickly. "Definitely not. Friend.”

She stared at him, then wrote, KISS.

“Oh… you saw that, huh? Well… more than a friend, I guess,” he said slowly. “I dunno… do you know the term ‘friends with benefits’? Or… uh… y’know… casual dating?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hey… we’re both adults, you know?” he said, a little defensively. “I mean - we both understood what we were getting into, okay?”

She stared at him, head tilting to one side. Then she picked up one of the post-its she'd already used and held it up to show him:

FISH?