Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim gripped the railing beneath his hand as he watched the sailors move about. He wasn’t sure what they were doing, not really. He wasn’t a sailor, and the sea made sure he knew it. Every time he let go, he found himself tossed about on the deck.

It was, decidedly, not fun. 

At least I’m not puking my guts out. Tim tried to console himself, but it didn’t work very well when he kept nearly braining himself on the railing. This ship was miserable, and the fact remained that nothing could change his feelings on that. For possibly the twentieth time since boarding this ship, he cursed his parents for sending him here. He knew they weren't...FOND of him. Certainly didn't love him. He learned that the hard way when he was eight years old. But he thought whenever they decided to send him to a boarding school, they'd at least choose some place local. Not set him on a ship with vague directions to a school he was half-convinced didn't actually exist. 

“Storm ahead!” A sailor shouted from the Crow’s Nest. 

If Tim had thought the sailors busy before, that was nothing compared to their reaction to that. The deck was a hive of activity now, sailors running to and fro, securing crates to the deck, trimming the sails, making their preparations. 

Another sailor, perhaps taking pity on him, stopped next to him. “Get below decks lad! ‘Lest you’re hopin’ to go overboard.” He shouted over the wind.

“Okay, thanks for the warning.” Tim waved a salute in acknowledgement. The sailor didn’t stop any longer to see if Tim listened, only hurried off to his work. 

Tim planned on going below decks right then, he really did. He didn’t want to be out here in the wind and rain any more than the sailors wanted him here. But frankly speaking, Tim couldn’t STAND below decks. The place was dark and damp, he was constantly tossed into walls, and it STUNK. Plus, there were rats scurrying in the corners. Tim avoided the place like the plague whenever possible. 

As the waves got rougher and bigger however, Tim started to think that avoiding the place was, well, no longer possible. If only because he’d be swept off the deck by a massive wave if he stayed any longer. 

Reluctantly, Tim peeled his hands off the railing and stumbled across the deck, head bent against the battering wind and rain. Tim had to admit it, he probably should have done this earlier, when the sailor had told him to. Because now that the storm was nearly upon them, Tim was finding it almost impossible to walk straight. The pitch and roll of the deck beneath his feet meant he was constantly stepping further or shorter than he thought. The wind certainly didn’t help, it pushed against him, driving rain into his face and blinding him. His eyes were slitted against it, but it didn’t help much. 

At last, he reached the door and pulled it open- the wind caught on the wood, slamming it to the wall and slapping Tim’s hand away. Then, just to make things worse, his feet slid out from under him. Tim landed on the deck with a THUD that stung his backside. 

“Greeeat.” Tim groaned as he ran a hand over his face. He pulled himself into a sitting position and glared at the door which swung open in front of him, taunting him with the possibility of safety being feet away. 

“Asshole.” Tim informed the door. 

The door was, unfortunately, not offended by this great insult. Rather than continuing to humiliate himself by arguing with an inanimate object, Tim decided to complete his initial objective.

This time, when he got up to enter, the wind slammed the door shut. “Oh come on!” Tim shouted with some exasperation. He was thoroughly soaked now and all he wanted was to get to the hammock set aside for him. At least there he'd be DRY.

Carefully, Tim put one foot forward to brace the door, then opened it. Of course, the wind caught it again, but this time Tim was ready for that. Finally, he was stepping inside the shadowed corridor and pulling the door close behind him. 

Tim slumped against the wall and took several deep breaths. Once he was ready, he said, “Right then,” and he pulled himself back up. One hand remained on the wall, Tim leaning heavily against it, as he started to walk down the corridor. He was making decent progress when suddenly, the ship tilted dramatically, further than it ever had before, sending Tim tumbling down the floor with a shout. He hit the wall feet first, hands just barely catching himself before his head could hit it too. And then the ship bucked beneath him. 

The other end came up, Tim rolled back down the hallway, screaming with terror as he slammed against the door. Water seeped into his pants, an inch of it now coating the floor. Gripping both sides of the hall, Tim lunged back to his feet and hurried through the corridor, determined to get SOMEWHERE safer than here.

…Or was there anywhere safe on this ship right now? 

The ship groaned beneath him and Tim froze, heart beating in his chest as fast as a jackrabbit. For the first time, he started to wonder…could this ship take the abuse? 

Panic started to build in him, a wild instinct screaming that he had to get OUT; out of this cramped and dark hallway, out of the water that splashed at every movement, just out-out-OUT! Tim ran for the closest door, darting inside and slamming it shut behind him. 

For a few seconds of peace, Tim had time to observe the cabin he’d found himself in. It was small, smaller than the Captain's was. It might have been the First Mate’s, if he remembered the tour well enough. There wasn’t much in here. He could see a bed, nailed to the floor, and a small dresser that had also been nailed. Two portholes let in additional light, and he could see an unlit lantern dangling on the other side of the room. There was a small desk that was also nailed down, and a stool tucked beneath it. 

Then the moment of peace passed. He panted and gripped the doorknob as the ship fell away beneath his feet. He tilted sideways, feet scrambling for purchase against the-ground? Wall? 

He couldn’t decide before the ship swung the other way. He fell from the door, sliding to the other wall. Then there was a deafening CRASH that sent Tim tumbling through the cabin as the world turned sideways-upside-down-sideways again. His head banged against the dresser, he felt his arm wrench as it was caught in the bed’s legs, but he clung on anyways because at least now he was STILL. 

When everything finally settled down, or as near as it could with how the ship continued to bob in the waves, Tim was reluctant to let go. His head was pounding, his shoulder was sore, but he was alive to deal with those problems. First things first, he figured he ought to leave the cabin before the First Mate showed up and demanded to know what he was doing. 

Tim crawled towards the door, steadied himself against the wall as he stood, grabbed the handle, pushed-

A stream of water fell over his knees, knocking him back down to the floor. The door closed automatically from the force as Tim stared. Slowly, he turned his head and looked out the nearest porthole. I am trapped in a wooden box on the sea. He turned the thought over in his head.

He’d known that before of course. Had even had the same thought as they departed. It was even less comforting now that he could see the ship’s mast floating by the porthole.

Tim did not bother getting up. He was trapped and at the mercy of the sea.

Deciding not to care about the water he’d released into the cabin, Tim crawled beneath the bed and closed his eyes. He hoped his head would stop hurting by the time he woke up…And if he didn’t wake up at all, well, that saved him from death by starvation, now didn’t it? 

It was a dark thought. But even with his possibly (hopefully) mild concussion, Tim knew his chances of survival were grim. So he rolled onto his back because he didn’t want to have to keep waking up to near drowning in the inch-high water, and he let himself disappear. 

It wasn’t an easy rest, even with the concussion making sleep come quick. Tim frequently woke up, to water splashing his face or because he was sliding from beneath the bed and needed to brace himself again. Honestly, it was more annoying than anything else. But eventually, the waves calmed enough that he was able to sleep.

When he woke up again, daylight was streaming into the room and he was still alive. Tim’s head, unfortunately, still hurt, but at least his arm felt a bit better. Also, he was really cold. Why did he decide to sleep on the floor, in the water again? Especially now that all of the water had decided to sit on the bed side of the room? 

Tim pulled himself out from under the bed, noted the tilt of the floor, and checked the portholes again. From what he could see, the waves were significantly calmer, and it had to have been hours since he’d finally managed to drop off for real. He couldn’t see any more ship parts, which was a real problem because as vaguely noted before, he had no supplies. There was no water, that he could drink anyways, in the cabin. A quick search through the dresser revealed that the First Mate had NOT been sneaking rations into his room. Tim hadn’t thought he was, but he’d hoped at least. It would have helped him survive a little bit longer. 

“I am trapped in a box with no supplies, no sight of land, and very little hope of getting picked up by a passing ship.” Tim said aloud, wincing as the noise sent a dull pain through his head. “Have I left anything out?” 

The empty cabin did not answer him. 

Tim dug through the dresser until he pulled out an oversized pair of pants and a shirt for himself, quickly changed into the dry clothes, lay his wet ones out on the dresser, then flopped onto the bed. He dropped off to sleep five minutes later. 

The evening found Tim standing in front of one of the portholes.

“Okay, so! Here’s the thing. I don’t want to die yet.” Tim spoke to the window that just barely held his reflection if he squinted and turned his head to the side. “However, I currently have almost nothing working for me. That’s okay.” 

The reflection gave him a skeptical look. 

“No, really! I can figure this out. First, I’m going to break a window.” 

The reflection looked alarmed. 

“Don’t worry, I’m going to break the other one. Anyways, I’m going to break a window so I can leave the cabin without flooding the room and drowning myself.” 

The reflection wisely nodded. 

“Yeah, you get it. So I’m going to exit through the window and see if I can find anything else I can use. I probably won’t find. Like. Food. But I’m sure I can find stuff I can burn. And if I can burn stuff, I can boil water, which means I can get freshwater.” 

Another skeptical look from the reflection. 

“Look, I’ll worry about how to boil the water LATER. First I have to see if I have the stuff to do the boiling part. Also fish. I need a spear or something so I can try and stab a fish.” Tim nodded. 

Plans…okay, this wasn’t a plan, he could acknowledge that. But he knew what he basically needed to survive. It might not work, but… Tim didn’t want to die out here. Not alone. Not because his parents couldn’t be bothered to send him to a school nearby, not because they’d decided to make him not their problem. So he would do this. Even if nothing came of it, Tim…wasn’t going to just lay down and die. Not without a fight. 

So Tim grabbed the stool from where it had fallen to the other side of the room, and he smashed the porthole he hadn’t been talking to out. No time like the present. 

He’d survive this from sheer spite if he had to.

Chapter Text

Jason snarled silently as he swam through the waves. The nerve of that Dickhead! He loved his brother, really, he did, but did he have to be so fucking condescending all the time? 

Careful Little Fin! Crabs can have a mean pinch if you don’t watch out for their pincers. 

Whoa there, see that? It’s a rogue current. Swim into that without watching and you could be a league away before anyone realized what happened to you. 

I’m hoooome! How was your day Little Fin? Did you find anything cool on the reef? No? Too bad. I saw this awesome-looking fish while I was out today-

Every. Damn. Day. It was so irritating. Jason literally spent three years by himself after losing his parents, three years before Bruce came along and randomly decided to feed him. But Dick always acted like he was helpless, like he couldn’t even hunt right. 

Well, he’ll show him. If he could survive the ocean alone when he was twelve, he can definitely do it again now that he’s sixteen. 

Jason’s tail stilled in the water as it occurred to him how TRUE that was. He could just. Leave. And not come back. At least, not until he’d proven himself to that Dickhead. Bruce wouldn’t like it. The sharkmer would undoubtedly lecture him to hell and back when Jason returned. 

But wouldn’t the lecture be worth it to see the look on Dick’s face when Jason came back, not only having survived but done it easily? And with Bruce gone for at least another four tides, Jason had all the time in the world to get far away…

A smile came to Jason’s face at the thought. He chirped with pleasure, and then beat his tail, swimming quickly away from the reef, before Dick got it into his head to chase after him. A month should be more than enough time to prove himself, right? 

~~~~~~~~~~~

About a week later, Jason snarled as a fish escaped his grasp. Again. What was he missing? He’d hunted plenty of times with Dick and Bruce, had caught fish easily. Why was it so much harder by himself? 

Because normally you have someone herding the fish for you. The dry thought brought a grimace to Jason’s face. It was true though, mers were meant to live in pods precisely because it made hunting and watching for predators easier. How had he done this when he was still a guppy? 

That thought was even worse. Jason remembered all too clearly how he’d survived back then. He’d been as low as a bottom feeder in those days, eating what was left under rocks, only catching fish when they were stupid enough, or sick enough, to wander right in front of him. And of course, he often stole catches when he DID see a passing pod. He’d hide in wait when they came to his reef, watching for the moment when no one was watching their catch. He’d steal it and be gone before anyone had the mind to chase him. 

Except Bruce. Bruce had taken one look at the guppy running from him, thought ‘free kid’, and the next thing he knew, he was sitting in Bruce’s nest getting fussed over by Alfred with a jealous Dickhead sulking in the corner. 

The thought of Alfred brought a pang of regret to Jason’s heart. The nurse sharkmer would undoubtedly be home from visiting with his former pod by now. He would probably be worried about Jason, all by himself out here. 

The idea of Alfred’s disappointment was a little harder to bear than the idea of Bruce’s. But one thought of Dick’s smug face when he came back only a WEEK after he’d run away…

Jason shoved all thoughts of his family out of his head, ignored his aching belly, growled at the fish, then charged towards them. He’d show them. He was going to do JUST. Fine.

It took another hour but finally, Jason was able to snag two fish for himself. The first one was devoured right then and there, bones left to gently drift through the water, but he kept a hold of the second for a late tide snack. Finally satisfied, he swam for the surface. 

Jason didn’t have a nest of his own yet, and without knowing the territory layout of this part of the ocean, he was having a real hard time finding one. He’d been chased out, twice already, by territorial mers. Surface water however was fair game. No one could object to a mer traveling up here. Which was pretty ironic considering it was also the most dangerous part of the ocean.

That’s why the real trick was finding a place that could be even remotely safe enough to rest. 

Jason was still perfecting his system for that, but so far, hiding his presence next to a ship seemed to be working out pretty well so long as he watched for nets and didn’t let any sailors spot him. He hated the tactic; humans were no friends to mers and any mer that got a little too comfortable next to humans was liable to end up dead. But it was the only place he’d managed to snag even a wink of rest without being interrupted by mers or predators. It obscured his form and disguised his movements. Just, at the cost of having to put up with smelly humans who were, decidedly, some of the worst threats a mer could face with their clever nets and strange weaponry.

Which brought him here, following a human ship and getting further from home by the day. Jason hooked his hand into a barnacle, pressed himself against the wood, and kept a careful grip on his ship. Naptime. 

When Jason next woke up, he instantly knew something was wrong. The sea was thrashing around him, the ship bucking beneath his hands. Without even looking, Jason knew a massive storm had arrived. Hurriedly, he let go and darted towards the deep. 

Here, the deep was peaceful, untouched by the chaos of the storm above him. At these depths, the ship looked like a toy some god had decided to bat around. He couldn’t hear anything but a distant roar, could barely feel the push and pull of the massive waves. 

It was almost relaxing. Jason ate his fish and watched. Not because he particularly cared about the ship’s fate, but because if he needed to find a new ship to follow, he’d rather know now than later. 

At first, the boat seemed to fare well against the storm. It stayed somewhat upright at least. It was hard to tell what changed from deep below, but suddenly a piece of the ship plunged into the water before bobbing back up to the surface. Then the whole ship shuddered before breaking apart with a CRACK even Jason could hear. 

“Tough luck.” Jason said. He stayed down there for several minutes, watching the ship’s wreckage spin apart. Humans dropped into the water. Some drowned quickly. Some hung onto something and clung like the barnacles had. Some of them even managed to get onto the ship’s tiny boats, though how helpful they thought those would be in a storm like this was beyond Jason. Although it wasn’t really Jason’s business. 

Most of the wreckage quickly flooded and sank, but as Jason watched, he noticed a sizable piece had somehow survived. It wasn’t broken open like the other pieces had, it tilted in the water, but continued to float. 

Slightly bored but with nothing better to do and not wanting to lose sight of it, Jason watched it until the storm was over. It didn’t sink. He yawned and swam up to it. 

The chunk was vaguely box-shaped. He could see remnants of the ship sticking out, jabbing into the water. Those would make way better places to rest. Jason noted. I could stick myself on those and not have to sleep clenched up the whole time. 

It was a satisfying thought. Plus, now that the ship wasn’t operating under its own power anymore, the current was taking it in the direction of his home. He didn’t have to worry about finding a new ship before he got too far now. The humans’ loss…well, it was his gain. He wasn’t about to celebrate it, but he didn’t feel sorry for them either.

Jason smirked a little bit before lifting himself onto the wreckage. It took a bit of finangling. He had to hold onto a jagged edge of the ship to lift himself up, then he had to find a corner to settle himself into, one that gave him easy access to the sea and was comfortable enough to actually sleep in. Plus, he needed to keep some parts of himself submerged.

Exploring the wreckage was tricky without legs, and he had to be doubly careful to not spear himself on the edges, but he did eventually find a corner of it that was semi-intact. This piece must have come from the back of the ship, two walls formed a nice little corner that poked into the sea. Sitting in it wasn’t too comfortable, nothing could beat a proper nest after all, but it was enough for Jason to relax for the first time in almost a week. He was finally safe.

Letting his head flop against the side, Jason went back to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Tim had decided to survive. Now HOW he was going to do that was a tricky matter without access to fresh food and water. But it was a decision he had made and it was one he was going to stick to. So after breaking the porthole, he slipped outside to survey the damage. 

It was worse than he thought. He was hanging off the edge of the ship, feet on the windowsill, hands clutching at the slick wood, but even here he could see just how bad it was. 

In its original size and shape, this part of the ship had been solidly above the waves, almost dry even. Now, his feet were just barely above them, ocean spray splattering the bottoms of his shoes and soaking his pant legs with every pass. He looked left and right, trying to get an impression of where the breaks were. 

If you could imagine a box to start, that would be the cabin Tim had found himself in. Now on that box, you would have to stretch out the near side’s line so it stuck outside of the box on both sides. A 3-D view of that line (showing the entire wall’s extension) would show that it curved and the jagged edges just begged to stab an unsuspecting climber. 

Now looking up, Tim could see that most of the deck’s railing had been stripped away by the storm, but one or two pieces still existed. It was these that Tim lunged upward to grab, pulling himself ontop of his box. Luckily they held.

Now from here, Tim’s view of the box was slightly different. He was looking down on it, able to see the far side of the box, and now he could see that the basic box shape wasn’t quite right. Like the near side, the far side’s line was also stretched out on both sides. It was just as jagged at the tips, but its lines were far straighter, and he could see one of them went straight to where the back of the ship used to be, turning in an L shaped corner. As he approached, he could start to see that the bottom line (of the 3-D box shape) was also extended outward from the box. Basically, parts of the hallway outside the cabin, such as the floor, were still attached to the cabin.

A simple drawing of the entire wreck, simple because Tim never claimed to be an artist, would show a box with two extended parallel lines, and one of those lines would end in an L shape. That still left out the hallway’s floor, but whatever. Tim was tired of trying to describe the stupid piece of wood he was stuck on. 

He was about to hop down onto the ‘hallway’ piece of floor when a rumbling sound caught his attention. 

Tim’s head snapped around to look at the L corner and then froze. His heartbeat raced, his breath picked up.

There was a mer laying in the corner of the hall, narrowed eyes zeroed in on him. The predator was huge, its tail alone about a Tim and a half in length. Its claws were sharp, fangs glinting in the sun as it growled. Its scales were a brilliant, blood-red with yellow and green stripes peeking through. In short, it looked like it could tear Tim apart for lunch and go back for seconds.

Tim swallowed dryly and took a step back. “Siren.” 

The mer snarled, a low hissing sound coming from the back of his(?) throat.

Tim raised his hands peaceably. “Nice…nice fish. I’m just gonna…Just gonna go. And you’re going to go. And-uh-we can pretend neither of us saw each other huh?” 

The mer raised itself on its hands and hissed-

Tim ran. He ran across his ceiling, dropped himself down to get back to his window-feet scrabbling at the wood as he felt for it-

A hand on his ankle pulled and Tim lost his grip on the wood. Oh shit-

Tim splashed into the sea before he could take a breath. Instantly he kicked out, eyes stinging from the salt water as he tried to find his attacker, tried to swim back to the wood-

But a human wasn’t much of a match for a sea demon. Tim felt himself dragged down, down, down through the sea, no matter how desperately he kicked and hit, his blows were too slow and light in the water. 

The hand let go and Tim didn’t hesitate, swimming back to the surface. He knew it was hopeless, his lungs were already straining with the need for air, he was too far down, he was going to die and the mer was going to eat him-

The mer zipped in front of him, Tim faltered, muscles spasming. He stared at the mer. 

The mer above the water had been a glittering knife of a thing. Dangerous, scary, but there had also been the knowledge that Tim could run. That the mer couldn’t get on the roof nor into the cabin. He would have been safe if he’d just been faster than the mer. 

The thought would have made him laugh if he’d had air. 

Looking at it in the water was different. It glimmered, sunlight reflecting off scales even in the water, and it was still a dangerous predator that was going to kill Tim. But the way it hung in the water, content, confident, KNOWING that it was the worst the sea had to offer… it was beautiful. 

His body seized, his air ran out, and Tim started to sink. He’d wanted to live, he’d gotten out of bed that morning determined to try. But he just wasn’t good enough. Tim’s eyes closed.

A hand wrapped around his arm. Come on, can’t it wait until I’m dead to tear me apart? It’s not going to take that long! And then he felt himself being tugged-

Up. And up. And up. 

Tim’s face hit the air, bodily instinct took over. He coughed and hacked, arms splashed and legs kicked, but when the hand let go he started to sink. The hand grabbed him again, propping him above water until Tim was finally able to breathe again. 

Why am I not dead? Tim looked to the side at the patiently waiting mer. It had a…Tim wanted to call it a skeptical look on its face. But that seemed ridiculous. What had the mer EXPECTED to happen when it tried to drown him? 

The mer let go and Tim kicked away from it, aiming for his box. He was on the far side, where he’d first seen the mer now. Thankfully. Tim didn’t think he had the strength to boost himself back into the window. It wasn’t THAT close to the waterline.

As he swam for the platform, muscles trembling and spasming, Tim expected the mer to attack again. To pull him under and really not let go this time until he was dead. The mer kept pace, floating on its back like it didn’t have a care in the world. It didn’t even attack when Tim hauled himself onto the platform. 

Safe from drowning, but definitely still in reach of the mer, Tim eyed the wall in front of him and wondered if he could pull himself up. He decided he couldn’t. Then he looked at the cabin door. 

During the storm, the tilt of the cabin and the waves had made it impossible to open the door without letting a bunch of water into the cabin, flooding it and potentially killing himself. Now however, the water’s were much calmer. Only an inch or two of water covered the platform by the wall (though it was deeper at the edges). He could probably crawl over there and open it without getting TOO much water in the cabin. 

He eyed the mer, who was lounging against the platform and staring at Tim from the corner of its eye. If he showed it how to get inside his cabin, would it attack him in the middle of the night? But then, why not attack him now? Why had the mer let him go? 

Tim was exhausted. He was tired. He just wanted to sleep. “Please don’t kill me.” Tim told it wearily as he started to crawl towards the door. 

The mer’s answering whistle made him pause. But when Tim looked back, the mer hadn’t moved. It hadn’t sounded like a threat…

Tim grabbed the door knob and entered his cabin as quickly as he could. As he expected, only a little bit of water entered the cabin this time. Tossing his shirt onto the desk to dry, Tim collapsed onto the bed and groaned. 

Day one of attempting to survive: semi-accomplished. If I get up before tomorrow, may it not be because I’m being torn apart by a pack of mers. 

Chapter Text

Jason thought several times about trying to enter the wall where the guppy had disappeared into, but looking at the shallow water line, he knew there was no chance of that. Plus, he had no idea how the damn thing worked. Whatever magic used to operate the wall seemed to be uniquely human. 

So he gave up on waiting for the guppy to show up and decided to try his hand at hunting again. He was starving for breakfast. 

…Come to think of it, what about the guppy? Did they have food? Jason didn’t know actually. He didn’t think the box was big enough for the guppy to have much of any food actually.

…Well, he did kinda owe them one for the almost drowning incident right? So if he caught an extra fish or something, he should give it to the guppy. Just to pay back his debts, not because he was concerned about the guppy or anything. Jason had his own shit to deal with right now: proving to Dick that Jason could survive in the ocean by himself.

Decisively, Jason slipped into the water and started to hunt for a school of fish. 

He searched the ocean, keeping within swimming distance of the wreck, until he found a school traveling through the waters.

He dove through the school, claws flashing through the water as he grasped for a fish. He just barely felt the tip of its tail before it was gone, the school scattering around him. 

“Low Tide’s, just stay still!” Jason snarled as he lunged at another fish, only for that one to slip through his fingers as well. 

The fish swam all around him, criss-crossing over his vision, darting away when he lunged forward, until suddenly there were no fish at all in front of him. Jason turned around and saw them swimming away, little tails swishing as fast as they could go. He gave chase, but it was too late. The seconds it had taken him to turn around and find them had been enough of a head-start. 

“Dammit!” Jason shouted, his ears flicking with his anger. His gills were working overtime as he glared after the fish, hands clenched, nails digging into his palms.

As if to remind him of his failure, his stomach growled at him, prompting Jason’s scowl to deepen. 

He was just…so frustrated by this. He should be FASTER than them, should be able to snag a fish or two without any problems. He should be bigger than he was, at least another foot. Jason was SIXTEEN. He wasn’t a guppy anymore, but here he was, practically as helpless as one. 

“It’s okay Chum.” Bruce rested a massive hand on Jason’s shoulder. 

He was fourteen, stabbing his claws into the fish Bruce caught for him and sulking. “No it’s not. I should be almost done growing but I still have a bunch of my guppy scales!” He gestured to the green and yellow spotting his arms, lining his tail, and dotting the sides of his face.

“Malnutrition can hinder development.” Bruce hummed. “You’ll grow eventually Jason, you just need to be patient with yourself.”

“It’s not fair.” Jason whined.

“No, it’s not.” Bruce agreed. The huge mer flipped on his back, pulling Jason into his arms. Jason allowed it, flopping onto Bruce’s chest and curling around his fish. “But it’s still okay. You’re pod Jason. Whether you grow to be as large as you can be or not.”

Jason opened his eyes and looked down at his empty hands. Barren of fish. 

“This is so stupid.” Jason muttered, looking away and spinning to stare at the ocean surface. 

He wanted to go home. He wanted to talk to Alfred, see Bruce, and well, maybe he could put up with Dick for a little longer. Because more than the hunger, he just…missed them. He missed sleeping in their nest, missed Bruce’s comforting presence and maybe even Dick’s teasing.

He missed his pod.

But the idea of going back to them in failure left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d run away so…stupidly, just because he was mad at Dick. He’d run away to prove himself and all he’d accomplished was showing them that they were right. He wasn’t ready to be alone. He wasn’t ready to hunt fish by himself, to take care of himself, to drive away any predators that came his way. Hell, Jason would be screwed if an orca showed up! They shouldn’t, they were pretty far south for that, but if one did…

And here he was, hanging around like he was fish bait. Everything Dick seemed to think he was.

Maybe he should just go home. Maybe he should give up, try again in a few years when the last of his guppy scales finally fell out. 

Jason rubbed his hands across his eyes and shook his head. Not knowing what to do and too upset to try hunting again, Jason flapped his tail and turned towards his temporary ‘home’. 

When he reached the box again, it had probably been about two hours since he’d left. The guppy was out again, and Jason slowed down, staying beneath the water to see it clearer. It still wasn’t the greatest view since he was peering through the water’s surface, he couldn’t see the details on the guppy’s face, but it was still better than if he was above the waves. 

And definitely good enough to see what the guppy was doing in the water. It was moving some weird…black cage thing around?

Jason got a bit closer and watched. The guppy’s hands were moving around the cage thing, fingers scrubbing at the object’s insides. He had no idea what it was, except that it was black, appeared to have a lid of some sort attached, and it was partially made of a clear substance that let him see the guppy’s hands inside. There was also a black material on two sides of it, with four lines of it running between the two big chunks. If the lid was closed, it would probably have looked like a cylinder, but that was all he could tell. He had no name for this, and no idea why the guppy was messing with it.

The guppy brought the object out of the water to inspect it, then put it back in, fingers continuing to scrub. 

“What’re you doin’?” Jason muttered, fascinated.

The guppy didn’t answer and Jason could only assume it had no idea Jason was there. If it did, he was sure the guppy would have run away by now. 

The next time the guppy removed the object, it seemed satisfied with what it found, because it filled the object with sea water before carefully placing it on top of the box. Then it hoisted itself up and disappeared from Jason’s view.

As Jason rested in the water, he suddenly wondered if there were any humans searching for this one, like Dick and Bruce were probably searching for him.

Swimming around the box, he found the hole in the side that the guppy had been trying to use earlier. With a quick jump, his hands caught at the edges of it and Jason pulled himself up to look inside. 

There was no one. Bad sight or not, if there was another human inside, Jason should have seen it, but the room was empty. Jason let go and dropped back into the water. 

The next jump he made was big, he put as much power into it as possible and as he soared through the air, he caught a glimpse of the box’s roof.

He could see the guppy carefully arranging…something. He couldn’t tell what, certainly not while he was in the air.

What he didn’t see was another human. 

The guppy was completely alone, just like him. 

As he hit the water, Jason’s thoughts turned back to the storm, the humans he saw die in it and the ones who got away. Did any of them belong to this guppy? Why had none of them been with the guppy during the storm? Who was looking out for this guppy?

The answer was no one.

And that…that was scary. Because Jason couldn’t live with himself if he swam away from a guppy in need of help.

And yet… Jason had no idea what to do. He was the only one here, the only one who could help. He didn’t even know the first thing about humans and suddenly he was responsible for one of their guppies?

Jason wanted Alfred. His grandfather ALWAYS knew what to do, he probably knew everything about how to take care of one. Alfred would probably have some tale about helping a sailor reach land and how he figured out humans need X, Y, and Z to survive.

He wanted to race back to their nest and get him but…the number of tides it would take to get there, and the guppy would be alone the whole time, and he didn’t even know how long it could last before Jason got back! What if the guppy just died from hunger or something because he took too long?

No. Jason couldn’t go home until either the guppy was safe or they’d traveled close enough to his nest that he could get there in a few tides.

Jason turned away from the box, looking back towards the deep. 

If it was up to him to take care of this guppy, then Jason wasn’t going to give up so quickly. He was going to find enough food for both of them, he had to.

Chapter Text

Tim did not wake up to being torn apart by mers. This was a positive in his book and a great indicator for his survival chances. They still weren’t that great, but at least the odds of ‘Violent Death’ had gone down. Marginally. Starvation and Dehydration were still well above preferred parameters though, as evidenced by the fact that his throat was killing him. 

Which meant that now he had to figure out how to get freshwater in the middle of the ocean and then rig up some sort of fishing line.

There was, of course, a simple answer to getting freshwater: boil saltwater. It sounded very simple in theory, but reality was a little more difficult. First, because boiling saltwater didn’t make the water you were boiling salt free, it released freshwater into the air as steam. The water being boiled was still saltwater and in fact, was even saltier because the ratio between water and salt was tilted more in salt’s favor.

And you lost the freshwater you DID get to the air unless you could catch it. So the actual logistics of boiling saltwater to get freshwater were actually quite complicated. 

Especially if one just happened to exist on a glorified raft. With limited supplies. 

Second, boiling the water required a fire. Tim’s glorified raft was made of wood, which obviously burns. Therefore, he needed a way to start a fire that wouldn’t destroy his own floor. Or roof. Or the entire raft.

Probably the only problem with boiling saltwater Tim didn't have was that at least Tim had a container he could use. One of the lanterns from the cabin would work nicely as a pot once he cleaned out the wax and oil, he was positive. 

Oh, also, there was a murderous mer hanging out in the waters around his raft. One who had already shown they could pluck him off the side of the raft as easily as Tim could grab an apple from a tree. So actually leaving his room to gather supplies and set up water catchers was not looking promising, and that wasn’t even thinking about a fishing line for food. 

Which figured, because when was anything going to be easy on Tim? Honestly. 

But Tim couldn’t hide in the raft for the rest of his life.

Well, he could. It would just be a very short life and his throat was already burning. He didn't want to see how bad it would be tomorrow. 

Tim fiddled with a shard of glass from the broken porthole as he thought about his next move. He was clearly not a match for the mer. Even if he stuck this glass to a stick to use as a spear, the mer in the water had been way too fast for him. They’d just dodge and then they’d probably be pissed at him for trying to kill them. If the mer decided to kill him, he at least wanted it to be quick thanks. So actively attacking the mer was out, but he should probably keep the glass on him so he could stab it if it tried to grab him again.

Satisfied, Tim put the shard in his pocket and started taking inventory. 

After ransacking the cabin’s dresser and desk, Tim found he had a lot of clothes he could probably use as kindling and replacements for his own, a good stack of oils and candles for the lantern, a great deal of paper and writing supplies, a little book with handwritten notes on the sea, a compass and sextant, an iron plate, an actual knife that quickly replaced the glass shard, and a tin can.

Was it everything Tim could possibly want? No. But it did solve SOME of his problems. Notably, he could make his fire ontop of the iron plate and hopefully not set his raft on fire. He also had lots of kindling that could be used to make said fire. 

Things went quickly after that. Tim started by getting his fire set up on the roof, then remembered that he needed to suspend the lantern over the fire-preferably without burning his hands-so he used the knife to carve some wood scraps into an ideal-ish shape, which took FOREVER because the wood didn’t want to be chopped off. 

Also he nearly stabbed himself.

Twice. 

Why was he bothering with this whole survival thing again? 

Right, spite. Because he wasn’t going to let his parents win and get rid of him that easily. 

Motivation renewed, Tim grabbed the lantern and started cleaning it out. He scraped as much of the wax out as he could and poured the oil into the other lantern, but then it was time for the hard part. Getting the stubborn, left-over bits. He couldn’t do it with his hands alone but there wasn’t a drop of water in the whole cabin to wash it out which meant…well, it meant he’d have to use the ocean to clean it up. 

He didn’t want to, he REALLY didn’t want to, if the mer showed up again…Tim didn’t even want to think about it. So instead, he grabbed the lantern and inched towards the platform. 

He didn’t see the mer here either. Maybe it was gone?

Cautiously, Tim dropped back down to the platform, ocean water splashing around his knees as he landed, and when he continued to be alone, he got to work on the lantern. 

That part also took forever, the oil stuck to the lantern as fiercely as if it belonged there. 

But eventually he finished it and here was where the really clever part about solving his water problem came in. 

See, an oil lamp basically functioned like this: there was a container for the oil, and a little hole in the top where a wick went. That hole opened out into the main part of the lantern of course, the part where the fire was visible. Then there were more holes in the top to let out the smoke.

Tim filled the oil container with salt water, but left the rest of the lantern dry. Or, as dry as it could be after he’d just washed it in salt water and wiped it down with a shirt. But all that meant, was that when the water started boiling, the steam would escape the wick hole and so long as he covered up the top holes, the water would be caught by the lantern part of the lantern! He’d have to be careful not to let the freshwater drizzle back into the salt part, there was a rise in the lamp where the wickhole was but it wasn’t a huge rise, and honestly, it’d probably only give him a mouthful of water at a time, but it would give him WATER.

Tim was actually feeling pretty smug as he got the fire going and hung the lantern over it. He’d even figured out how to cover the top holes by carving a square out of a shirt covering one side with melted wax and securing it to the top of the lantern. (He could have just used the wax, but he wanted to make sure no wax accidentally dropped into his water.)

And then right in the middle of his victory, the mer jumped out of the water and stared RIGHT at him. 

“Fuck!” Tim cursed as he fell backwards in shock. His hands were shaking, heart racing from the scare. He couldn’t believe the mer could jump so HIGH. Was he even really safe ontop of his roof? Maybe the mer could jump up here and drag him back into the water! 

His thoughts were running wild as his tenuous grasp on his own safety snapped. He gripped his knife in his hands as he twitched around, half expecting the mer to make the jump again. 

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m faster on land, it won’t get me so long as I pay attention. Tim tried to reassure himself, but the memory of drowning was close to his mind and it scared him. The possibility of the mer coming back and finishing what it started made shivers run down his spine. 

He wasn’t going to go down without a fight, he wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t. 

So Tim huddled on his roof, hardly paying attention to his fire, as he watched and waited for the mer to come back. He didn’t know how long he shivered, hands clasped so tightly around the knife that when he finally unclenched his hands, they were completely numb. 

He could almost forget about it though when he looked at the lantern and saw water dripping down the inside, pooling at the bottom. He didn’t wait, he snatched the lantern off the fire and used a rag to absorb the water. Then he stuck it in his mouth and sucked.

It was warm, tasting faintly of salt and cotton with a frankly nasty edge to it, but it was WATER. Tim let out a moan at the slight relief.

And it was slight. It dampened his mouth, but only by a little bit. And after he'd sucked as much of the water out of the rag as possible, his mouth quickly dried out again. 

It was enough to make him want to cry, it just wasn’t FAIR. He worked so hard on this and it just wasn’t enough! But crying would waste more water so Tim just miserably put the lantern back on the fire.

This was going to take forever.

Chapter Text

When you have unlimited access to water, you don’t really think of how much you drink. But when you’re being forced to drink it mouthful by cottony mouthful, it’s impossible not to be aware of how much you’re getting and it’s never enough. 

Tim would know. He’d been counting without even trying and it was agonizing.

With the mer gone and the water boiling achingly slow, Tim was sprawled out on his roof and staring at the blue sky. It stretched endlessly above him, without even a flicker of a cloud. Yes, it was empty and barren…much like his stomach. 

Tim winced, hunger cramping in his torso, its own unique pain to everything else. His whole body ached from his earlier struggle not to drown, his salt-encrusted eyes stinging. The sun was beating down on him mercilessly to boot. He was so hot, it felt like he was being baked alive.

His skin would burn if he stayed out here much longer, his stiff, sun dried clothes only so much protection. Yet another ache to add to his growing list.

He wanted to roll over, to shade his face, but that would just trade one discomfort for another. The roof’s wood was nowhere near comfortable to lay on, never mind rest his face on. He couldn’t even escape the discomfort by curling up and resting his head on his arm. That way just made him even hotter. 

Tim forced himself into a sitting position to take another mouthful of warm, cotton water. As he sucked on the shirt, he thought about how he might get some sort of shelter up here. He couldn’t exactly move the bed or the desk up here after all, and the platform below was underwater so he couldn’t shift his fire so he could rest in the shade down there. 

Perhaps he could take the bed apart and use the longer logs as poles to hold up a blanket? But then how would it stand up without falling over? The sea wasn’t exactly calm here and he didn’t have nails to hammer the wood in place. Tim groaned just imagining putting the blanket on top of himself as is, without any air between him and the fabric. No, he wouldn’t do it. He’d hide in the stifling cabin all day if he had to, he’d figure something else out. 

He could…he could…Tim tried to envision the bed, the two long poles, the two shorter ones, the legs of the bed, but the imagery kept slipping from his mind in a haze. Everytime he imagined one pole, when he turned around for the second one, the first would fade away. He couldn’t imagine how to place them, how to tie them together. 

It was just too hot to think.

I need to go inside.

Tim dropped the shirt and stumbled over to the side of roof, dropping down-

SPLASH!

He’d walked off the wrong side of the roof, but the water helped anyway, if only by providing a reprieve from the heat. 

It did NOT help his nerves that he was once again vulnerable to attack. 

Tim flailed his arms, scrambling to reach open air when- wham!

His head smacked into the wood of his raft with a vengeance, pain racking down Tim’s spine as he forced his eyes open. The salt stung, his chest aching with a lack of air, the pain made it hard to think but Tim didn’t need to be at a hundred percent to know he needed to get out from under the raft.

He spun in the water, swam for the edge of the raft. A red flash glittered in the water- no, please - Tim kicked harder and then hands were wrapping around his chest and he panicked.

Tim jerked and twisted, arms reaching for his pockets, reaching for his knife, his heart pounding in his ears louder than the waves. His fingers were just scraping the top of his pockets, not quite able to reach around the arms holding him.

They were moving through the water and Tim kicked all the harder for it, desperate not to be dragged to the depths again, nails scraping against scales and then-

His head breached the water’s surface and Tim sucked in air greedily, spluttering through the water dripping down his face. Some sort of chittering, whistling noise filled his ears as he felt himself hoisted back onto the platform. Tim didn’t hesitate, he flung himself against the wall, eyes wide and panicked as he spun, pressing his back against it.

The mer was still in the water, making those weird noises. He was leaning backwards, arms crossed in front of him as he spoke. Tim couldn’t understand, not the hisses, the whistles, and he definitely couldn’t understand what this mer wanted. It was all he could do, watch. Wait. His whole body felt frozen, as if it had shut down as soon as he stopped drowning.

The mer finally quieted down, but it kept staring at Tim almost…expectantly. What was it waiting for? And now that he was asking one question, Tim realized he had a lot more. 

Why hadn’t it killed him? It’d had plenty of chances. At least three if Tim thought about it. He couldn’t believe it didn’t want to hurt him. Not when the feeling of claws pressing into his arms, of a strength greater than his own wrenching him away from safety, not when his panic was so clear in his mind and heart. 

Why had it saved him just now? Well, Tim probably would have been fine eventually so ‘save’ might be a bit of a stretch, but the mer had certainly made survival easier there. A reason had to exist though, some benefit the mer got from his existence.

Was it just some kind of psychopath? Deriving pleasure from the chase, the mind games? It seemed plausible. Cats after all, played with their food so this couldn’t be a human only thing. Maybe it just wasn’t hungry yet but didn’t want him to spoil until it was ready…but the mer wasn’t staring at him like he was food. It didn’t look like it wanted to bite him, not even a nibble. If Tim had a piece of meat dangling in front of him, even if he WASN’T starving from not eating in, what, two days? Even then, Tim wouldn’t look at it like this. 

Staring into the mer’s eyes, Tim was struck by the thought that it didn’t look even the slightest bit murderous. No hungry or angry eyes. They just looked…normal. Like the mer could just be a random guy on the street.

There was so little humans knew about mers. He knew they killed humans. It was a fact of life at sea, there were hundreds of recorded cases of death by mer. Tim had read a whole book about the ocean, and the section on mers said that at least fifteen deaths a year could be attributed to mers and a further two of those included sightings of mers eating their victims. Why wasn’t Tim just another statistic? 

But then again. Humans killed humans, and even then, cannibalism was exceedingly rare among killers.

Not that a mer eating him would be cannibalism of course, they were different species. But the thought of eating a mer was almost as repulsive. Their faces were just too…too…human. Too human to see a mer as food. What if mers thought the same way?

It was silly to think of, too silly really, and Tim knew that. Surely, SURELY, if mers were as sentient as humans, enough to be disturbed by a physical resemblance, then they’d know already right? Right? 

But as Tim looked into the mer’s eyes, he had the thought that maybe they wouldn’t know. They spoke different languages after all. The two species were as separate as could be with one on land and the other in water. 

Maybe if they could dive to the bottom of the ocean, they’d find whole mer villages with regular families going about their day to day lives, avoiding the humans who struck with harpoons at any sighting. 

Tim shivered and stared at the mer in front of him. “Are you going to hurt me again?” He rasped.

The mer’s head tilted, it looked surprised for a moment before it leaned forward and rested its hands on the platform, propping itself up. 

“Can you understand me?” Tim asked, suddenly desperate for something-anything, he didn’t know what he wanted from the mer, why he was speaking at all. 

He was just so tired.

Tim’s hands clenched around his knees. He could feel himself shaking. “What do you want with me?” He asked, forcing tears of exhaustion from his eyes.

The mer voiced a short series of whistles, pops, and crackles as it squinted at him.

Tim laughed, short and bitter. “I don’t know what I was expecting.” He confessed, and then the tears broke free. 

The strength left Tim’s legs, sending him collapsing to the floor, uncaring of how the water splashed around him. Tim grabbed his legs, hands on the opposite knee, and buried his head behind them.

Stop that nonsense, you’re not even hurt. His father scoffed in his mind, and Tim tried! He really did! But he was hungry and hurt, he was so hot, he’d nearly drowned twice in less than a day, and despite hours worth of effort, he was still so damn thirsty- it was too fucking much.

It was too much for grown men, let alone eleven-year-olds.

Tim curled up in the water and sobbed his heart out. His chest spasmed with hiccups as salt water ran down his face.

A high chirp.

Silence.

Low crooning. 

The mer was talking again, but Tim didn’t bother to look up. If it was going to kill him now, it didn’t require Tim’s attention to do it. 

Popping. Crackling. Splashing.

Splashing? 

More crooning, and a wet hand rested in his hair. Tim froze, breath trembling to a stop. He was still crying, shaking tremors running through his body, but… the mer didn’t hurt him. 

Wet fingers brushed through his hair, prompting more tears to come to Tim’s eyes. He couldn’t help it, he leaned into the touch.

Even if the mer slit his throat right here and now, Tim thought it might be worth it, if the mer just kept doing this. 

How long had it been since someone touched him so gently? Since someone had run their fingers through his hair? Since someone had hugged him? How long since a friend had slung their arm over his shoulder? 

A second hand tentatively touched his arm, cool fingers slowly rubbing up and down. 

Tim let out a choked-off wail and slumped sideways, landing on the mer’s tail. The mer’s hands froze, lifting off him, its body stiffening below him, and Tim whined.

Another croon and the mer’s muscles relaxed, its hands returned. One rested along his side, curving around his chest in some simile of a hug, and the other hand was buried into the strands of Tim’s hair, slowly raking through sideways.

It wasn’t slimy at all, Tim realized. The mer’s skin felt cool, and it was definitely wet from the water, but it wasn’t slimy. He could feel its scales beneath his cheek, scales he’d thought of as only tough before, but now he could feel how flexible they were, bending beneath him. The mer’s thickly muscled tail was hard beneath him, but compared to the wood he’d been lying on for hours, it was as soft as feathers. 

I shouldn’t be doing this, a half-hysterical part of Tim said. I should be running and hiding right now! 

But he could hardly hear that voice because there was a much louder one, the voice of a child that had spent so much of its life alone, and it was screaming at him to never get up again, to stay put and soak up the affection for as long as he could. Who cared if it killed him, so long as he got to die in someone’s arms?

And Tim….couldn’t quite find it in himself to disagree.

He closed his eyes.

***Jason POV extra***

Fishing was about as fruitful as it had been an hour ago, but Jason was way more anxious to return than he had been then. The guppy was so fragile and small, and what if it got into the water and a shark showed up? Or something worse, like an orca or a mer who WOULD kill the guppy just for being human.

So Jason returned only an hour or so after he left, swimming around the raft and making certain he couldn’t smell anything like blood. He couldn’t see the human yet, but that didn’t mean anything to Jason. It could still be on top of the box thing or gone inside after all.

Satisfied, Jason was about to return to fishing when a loud splash echoed through the water. He whirled around, immediately taking in the sight of the guppy floundering in the water. 

“Shit, what are you trying now?” Jason called as the guppy swam straight into the box. “Fuck!” He cursed and quickly swam over, grabbing the guppy to tow it to safety.

The guppy kicked out, hands scratching at Jason’s arms in its panic. “Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt ya.” Jason grumbled as he pulled the guppy through the water, quickly boosting it back onto the wooden platform. “There ya go.” He said as he heard the guppy take big, audible breaths. 

Obviously, the guppy didn’t understand him. It practically threw itself as far from Jason as it could, turning around to…look at him maybe? Jason couldn’t tell, it was too far away. 

Annoyance ran through him and it was a fight to keep it off his face. Jason crossed his arms and leaned back in the water. “Seriously? Guppy, if I wanted ya dead, I had my chance EARLIER. ‘N’ speakin’ of, what in Poseidon’s hairy balls do ya think yer doin’? Ya barely know how to swim, quit jumpin’ in all willy-nilly! I ain’t gonna be here to drag yer ass outa the water everytime!” Jason scolded. Then he waited for, well, something. Some acknowledgement perhaps, or for the human to turn away and disappear back into the box or something.

It didn’t do either though. The human seemed completely frozen, just…staring at him. For some reason. It made him a bit uncomfortable actually, but Jason wasn’t about to run away first.

It was a complete surprise when the human spoke, its voice sounding like the brush of sand as it said something in its language. Jason tilted his head to the side, curiosity and acknowledgement in one movement. He didn’t know what the human wanted, but he leaned forward and propped himself up on his hands to show interest if nothing else.

The human just kept talking though, and it didn’t even try to mime out what it was saying. “Ya know I can’t understand ya, right?” He asked.

The human laughed, said something else, and then it collapsed to the ground, curling in on itself and making loud noises of distress. 

Jason straightened up, eyes wide as the moon. “Guppy!”

The human didn’t acknowledge him, just continued to make those…sad noises. Jason was big enough to admit that he was panicking a little bit. He had no idea how to comfort a crying guppy. What would Dickface do if he was here? He thought. 

Hugs. Singing. Embarrassing baby talk. His memories responded. 

Jason didn’t much want to do any of that, but the guppy was crying and Jason had to do something! He pulled himself further out of the water to rest on the platform. 

“It’s okay. Yer okay.” He said in the same tone his mama used to use. “Whatever you need, we’ll figure it out, I promise. I won’t leave ya alone.” He swore, but the guppy didn’t respond.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Jason grumbled, pulling himself the rest of the way out of the water. He pulled himself over to the guppy, worry rising in his heart when the guppy didn’t even flinch at his approach. 

He knew what Dick would do at this point. This is when Dick would pull Jason into his arms, hands running through his hair as he sang. Jason didn’t quite think he could do that, but…maybe he could do part of it. 

His hand hovered in the air above the human’s head for a few seconds before he lowered it. 

Jason hadn’t noticed before in all the chaos of attacking the guppy then saving it, but humans were…oddly warm. They felt weird too, the guppy’s hair beneath his was softer than sand. It didn’t feel like his own hair, didn’t squeak beneath his fingers, individual strands so fine and numerous, he couldn’t grasp a single one without getting two or three more with it.

The guppy leaned into Jason’s hand and he let out a sigh of relief. Note to self, hair pats were apparently universally liked. Carefully, he reached over with his other hand and started rubbing the side of the guppy’s arm. 

Human skin, he found, was different too. His fingers didn’t scrape against scales, the skin didn’t catch at his hand at all. It was startling actually, seeing how defenseless a human really was. No armor to protect them at all, no claws to cut through their enemies. They were just…all soft. Vulnerable.

The human made an even sadder sound and slumped over into Jason’s lap. He froze, hands in the air, not quite daring to breathe-the human whined and if that wasn’t a guppy noise, Jason would eat his flippers.

“ ‘S okay, I gotcha.” Jason murmured. He dropped one of his arms around the human's chest, letting himself curl around the guppy. It wasn’t a hug, not really. But it…was close enough to one that he was still pretty sure he was stealing from Dick’s playbook here. His other hand returned to the guppy’s hair, brushing through it. 

Jason relaxed and leaned back against the wall. “Yer okay. Ya don’t have to do this alone.” He promised, the words thick in his throat. 

“That’s what being pod means Jason.” Bruce’s words echoed in his ears. “We never have to be alone again.”

Chapter Text

Jason stared at the guppy asleep in his lap and contemplated just how screwed he was. Because this was a guppy. A HUMAN guppy. He had no more business in the sea than Jason had on land, but here he was. Practically NESTING with them like-like they were pod. 

For Poseidon’s sake, he didn’t even know the guppy’s name! Their pronouns!

He was screwed. He was fucked. This human was going back to its own kind eventually and then they’d never see each other again. He couldn’t be comparing them to pod just because they cried and fell asleep on him!

But Jason was never good at denying what he felt. That was just a fact. 

And right now he was beginning to think he understood why Bruce took one look at a scrawny guppy stealing his catch and then said ‘Mine’. Because fuck if that wasn’t what he did. 

Jason groaned, eyes sliding closed as he contemplated the enormity of what he was doing. What he was accepting into his life. Responsibility. A new brother maybe… did that make the guppy Dick’s brother too? Was he going to have to share his guppy with Dick?

No. Fuck that. Dick can find his own land guppy. Jason thought churlishly, a hiss spitting through the air.

And then reality checked him once again, because what was he going to do? He couldn’t exactly take the guppy home, they’d drown. Where exactly was he going to keep the guppy?

Hm. Jason was going to have to table that thought for later because he couldn’t think of any answers that wouldn’t reduce the guppy to something like a pet, waiting around for someone to show up. Maybe Bruce would have an idea when Jason found him again? Or Alfred. Alfred always had the best ideas. In the meanwhile, Jason would just have to take care of his guppy the best he could.

His thoughts were interrupted by a prickling, uncomfortable feeling on the side of his face. It only took him a moment to realize what the problem was. 

Although he was in the shade, with water lapping at his tail scales, the scales on Jason’s face had started to itch, drying out because of the wind and sun.

Jason ran a hand through the water and rubbed it across his face, sighing a little at the instant relief. It really wasn’t good for a mer to stay out of the water for so long, but he couldn’t do anything about that without moving and waking the guppy. Jason twirled his fingers through the guppy’s hair. I could do it. He mused, already feeling the itching return. One good splash and I’d be free. 

The problem was, he didn’t really want to. He might have…kind have…actually liked that the guppy felt safe enough to sleep on him? It was just nice to know that Jason’s efforts to care for the guppy were…appreciated, yes.

So no, he would not be waking up the guppy because of a little itching.

Jason flopped back against the wood and sighed. It could be worse . He told himself. At least I’m not being roasted alive by the sun here. He settled in to wait, fingers continuing to curl and run through the guppy’s hair, his other hand periodically running water over his face.

Jason didn’t know how long it took before the guppy finally stirred. A tide hadn’t passed, but the sun had certainly moved. His skin was uncomfortably tight and itchy, demanding more water than the little relief brought by dripping it over his face. 

At first, the guppy made small movements, nuzzling into Jason’s tail-no, Jason did not COO at the sight, he’s not Dick- then the guppy had made a small noise of complaint, hand slipping out to slap at the water. 

THAT finally got the guppy’s eyes open. They threw themself off of Jason with a weird, squawking cry. Jason just laughed as he watched the guppy change colors, turning slightly red and babbling in their strange language for almost an entire minute.

“I still can’t understand ya.” Jason pointed out.

The guppy paused at his input, sounds stopping for a moment before plopping their head into their hands. 

Jason couldn’t understand the guppy very well, but he was positive he could at least figure out a few words if they tried. Starting with something that had been bothering him for ages now. 

“Ja-s-on.” He said his name slowly, trying to enunciate it as clearly as he could with one hand pointing to himself. 

He couldn’t be sure, but the guppy appeared to be paying attention. At least, his head was tilted up, so Jason repeated himself and then pointed to the guppy. Silence. 

So Jason did it again, named himself while pointing at himself before pointing to the guppy. The second time, the guppy seemed to understand. They straightened up, “Oh! I’m Tim!”

Jason squinted. What a mouthful of a name. Pointed to himself. “Jason.” Pointed to OhI’mTim. “Ooh! Ahm Tim!”

“Wait, no-” OhI’mTim shook his head. He pointed at Jason. “Jaswoon.” He pointed at himself. “Tim.”

Jason tried not to wince at the mangling of his name, missing all the subtlety of the croon and not getting nearly high enough for the ‘a’. Still, he understood. “Tim.” He repeated, crinkling his nose at the short sound of it. Tim. What a weird language this was, all short and blocky. No drawing out sounds at all. 

Then, one more time, just to make sure they’d gotten it right, he pointed at himself, “Jason.” Pointed at Tim, “Tim”, and waited.

This time, Tim nodded, repeating the process backwards. 

Jason smiled, pleased. “Glad to finally have your name.” He laughed. 

Tim tilted his head to the side, probably wondering what Jason was saying now, but Jason didn’t bother to try explaining. Way too much pantomiming involved in that. Instead, he stretched out his arms and slid back into the water, letting out a croon of relief as he was finally, properly rehydrated and no longer at the mercy of the sun and wind. He started towards the edge of the platform.

Tim made a noise that he quickly shut away, shoulders slumping. Jason hesitated, wishing for a moment that he could explain, but he couldn’t. They didn’t have the words or the time, and they both still needed fed. 

“I’ll be back soon as I can find some food.” Jason promised, reaching out and patting the side of Tim’s face. Tim looked up at the contact, a choked-off whine coming from him. Jason smirked confidently. “Just wait for me. This won’t take long.” He said.

He darted back into the waves, relieved at being able to see once again, but already wishing he could go back. He hated the idea of leaving the guppy alone in the ocean, where anything could happen, but neither of them would last unless Jason could start bringing in food.

Jason dove through the sea and got to work on tracking down another school. Although nothing had really improved about his situation throughout the past few hours, he couldn’t help but feel more confident. He knew the guppy’s name now, and the guppy wasn’t even afraid of him anymore! With good news like that, Jason was positive that things were looking up. 

It took him some time, but eventually, he found a massive school of silver fish, fins flickering in the water as they swam. He hung in the water, still and silent. He knew that if he couldn’t catch any of the fish this time, that both he and the guppy would go hungry tonight and that just wasn’t an option. So he waited, hanging in the water and letting the fish get closer, their dumb little brains mistaking his stillness for safety.

They got closer and closer, and Jason wanted nothing more than to lunge forward and strike with his claws, but he had to wait. He couldn’t risk losing them. He needed the perfect moment.

One little fish swam right in front of his face. 

Jason flexed his claws and lunged.

Chapter Text

The first time Dick had looked around and been unable to find Jason, he’d panicked. In his mind, all sorts of dangers had come and taken their guppy when they weren’t looking. He’d shouted at Alfred and Bruce to help him look and they’d searched for hours. 

And then Jason had swam into the nest as calm and casual as if he’d been there the whole time. All three of them had scolded him for his disappearance of course. 

“I just wanted some time alone!” Jason had complained. 

“I understand that, but you cannot swim off without telling someone. We all thought you’d gotten hurt or taken by a rogue current.” Bruce had scolded. 

“We were worried, Master Jason. It seems prudent to inform us before you leave, lest this happens again.” Alfred had concluded.

Jason agreed, and for a while that was that. Yet sometimes…well, sometimes Dick turned around and his brother was gone. Each time his heart would jump, visions of what could be happening swimming through his head. 

But every time, Jason came back and nothing had happened. He was never gone for longer than a day, and he really was usually good about letting someone know before he left. 

So when Dick looked around and he couldn’t find Jason, he told himself it was fine. They’d had an argument, Jason was insisting that Dick was smothering him for some reason, so of course the young mer would want some time to himself. If he’s not back by dinner, I’ll go look for him. Dick had decided.

He would regret that later and later came quickly. The fish Dick had caught and wrapped in seaweed were all prepared, blood trails from the kills drifting through the water to call Jason home, but…it never happened. 

“Jason?” Dick called when he finally gave up and started to search. Slowly at first, swimming in small, then larger circles around their home. He was a mile out before he got to be really worried. “Jason! Where are you?” He called out, piercing shrieks meant to echo for miles through the water.

No answer. 

Dick swam and searched for hours, but he couldn’t find Jason anywhere. The current ran cold around him and all Dick could think was, I lost him. I lost my little brother.

Bruce and Alfred were still away. It would take perhaps 2 or 3 more tides for Bruce’s return, and many more for Alfred’s. Dick couldn’t wait that long, he had to find Jason NOW. What if he got hurt? What if he was attacked by poachers? What if he couldn’t find food? The ocean was huge, anything could have happened to his little brother in the hours Dick had spent meandering around their home.

Jason was still so little compared to what he should be, still had a few of his guppy scales leftover. If Jason didn’t come home- no. No, Dick refused to consider that possibility. Jason was smart, he’d survived on his own when he was a much smaller guppy. Dick had to believe he could do it again until Dick found him.

So Dick picked a bag, scratched a message into the rock for when Bruce and Alfred got back, and he took off swimming. 

He’d find his littlest podmate, one way or another. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick was positive he was going in the right direction now. He just…didn’t know how far behind he was. How fast or hard Jason had been swimming. He’d been scouring the ocean floor for any sign of Jason nesting or stopping for the night, but he hadn’t seen anything. If it wasn’t for the mers he’d run into, the occasional of whom that remembered seeing Jason, he might have thought he was going in the wrong direction.

It had taken him awhile to figure out the right direction, he’d had many false starts, but eventually the Allen-West pod gave him his first real clue. 

“I saw Jason swimming close to the surface the other day.” Barry told him. “I asked him what he was up to and he just said he was running an errand. I thought maybe you guys were giving migration a try.”

“No, Jason ran away. We-we had an argument. Please, which way was he going?” Dick asked. 

Barry had pointed and that had been that, Dick was off like a shot. He’d been six tides behind Jason when he’d gotten that clue. Now, eight tides of searching and swimming later, Dick felt only frustration as the trail ran cold again. 

Lots of mers had seen a lone, red mer in the area, but none of them could give him an accurate direction, or even an idea of where the mer had been nesting. It was driving Dick insane, especially when one of them mentioned how thin the mer had been at the time. 

Jason was out there, all alone, and not getting nearly enough food. Jason had had to work so hard to put every pound on, to claw his way back to health and now he was losing it all over again.

To make matters worse, Dick didn’t even know where Bruce and Alfred were, he’d taken so many turns in trying to find Jason that the mers could have been miles off in their own search, trapped in the wrong direction because there was no way for Dick to get a message to them except by hoping a migrating pod would run into them and pass along a message. He’d left several such messages with pods he knew, but he had no idea if any of them had encountered Bruce or Alfred.

Dick swam for the surface and did a flip as he broke through, into the air. Anything to get rid of this anxious energy burning through his veins. As he landed back in the water, he could just hear Jason calling him a show-off…

Where could Jason be?

Not knowing was the most horrible part of all this. Jason could have gone anywhere in the days since his disappearance. While Dick was pretty sure he was in the right area, he hadn’t found any sort of confirmation. No sign at all of Jason swimming about his day. 

But Dick would not stop. He’d tear apart the whole ocean if it meant finding his Little Fin safe and sound. 

As Dick let himself begin to sink through the waves, he rolled onto his back and stared at the surface. He thought about where he’d been searching, where people had seen Jason, and realized he’d been searching in all the wrong places. 

He’d thought Jason would have stayed close to the ocean floor, where it was safer, more populated, and food was easier to find. But what if he’d stayed away from the floor instead?

What if Jason had traded ready access to food with distance from mer territory? Dick hated the thought of it. While Jason would be safer from any territorial mers closer to the surface, the lighter layers of water were well-known for being full of other threats. Humans. Sharks. An encounter with either one could easily result in-in-

Dick wasn’t going to think about it. He was going to find Jason and Jason was going to be fine. End of story.

Chapter Text

The mer was gone and that…was more upsetting than it should be. It wasn’t like he knew Jason very well, obviously he wasn’t attached. It was just…really nice not to feel alone. It had been different. The sort of experience he rarely got to have while his parents traveled around the world. He wasn’t sure how to process it.

For a few moments, he hadn’t been alone. For just a little while, he had known the feeling of someone being there, of being held close. And now it was gone.

His skin ached to have it back.

Tim sighed and got to his feet. He didn’t want to examine those thoughts, he wanted to get back to- surviving. 

“Crap!” Tim cursed and wiggled back on top of his box. In the who-knows-how-long he was sleeping, his fire had completely burned out, his lantern set-up was left dangling in the wind. Tim dashed towards it and found just a little bit of water left in the bottom. There was a slight ring of damp around the hole though that told him he’d lost some of the water back to the lantern. 

Tim grumbled and soaked up the little bit of water left for him, sucking it out of the shirt just like he’d done earlier. “This is way too inefficient.” Tim grumbled. He squinted up at the sun, thought about just how quickly he was going to dehydrate, and decided he needed to do what any proper scientist would do. 

Make a mark two that would hopefully work better.

Tim went back inside the cabin and sat down to stare at his supplies again.

A tin cup and a scorched iron plate.

Compass and sextant. 

Glass shards and a knife.

Two lanterns, one cleaned out, with corresponding supplies.

Lots of paper and pencils.

It really wasn’t much to improve upon a design with, but as Tim stared at his supplies, something obvious occurred to him. 

He was thinking of everything as a whole, not thinking in terms of parts. So if he really thought about it, couldn’t he take apart a lantern to get more containers? Or more room in the lantern?

Tim grabbed a piece of paper and quickly sketched out a simpler, more streamlined idea. Something that would arguably use less energy but give him more water output…or at least get rid of the water loss he was taking by having to soak everything up with his shirt.

The sketch, when he was finished, was rough, but it checked out. All he had to do was build it. 

After grabbing his lantern, compass, and cup, he went back to his roof and got to work. 

First, Tim removed the oil container from the lantern. Then he carefully used said container to fill part of the lantern with sea water. Afterwards, he laid the lantern on its side and inspected how well his shirt and wax mixture held up- which it did or this would have gotten a lot harder. (Tim resolved to layer more wax on it anyway, just to make sure nothing escaped.)

Tim put his tin cup inside the lantern and was just barely able to close the lid. Then he filled the oil container with sea water and placed it on one side of the lantern, with the compass propping the lantern up on the other side so hopefully the lantern would stay in position. Then, just for a little extra reassurance, he made sure the handle was resting against the floor to help keep the lantern from tilting over. It was as stable as could be hoped now, barring any large waves.

This new method, Tim knew, would take a lot longer to make any water at all, because he wouldn’t be able to hang the lantern over the fire and speed it up. The only evaporating source this new method had was the sun. He hoped however, that it would work better because this way, he could collect a lot more water to drink at one time. 

…That would probably start tomorrow though, now that Tim thought about it. The sun was finally sinking, beautiful reds and purples streaking across the sky as the light blue above darkened. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen such a picturesque sunset. It was so pretty, Tim just had to take a second to admire it before he went back inside his cabin. 

Technically, Tim knew he should go to sleep. He was literally losing daylight after all, the cabin was steadily growing darker. But he’d taken two naps already that day, after nearly drowning TWICE, so frankly. Tim was just not that tired. So he decided that instead of going to bed, he was going to work on addressing his next issue. Food. 

Being at sea, the only option Tim had for food had to be fish. So Tim was going to have to catch one, and- well, he wasn’t exactly the kind of person who could jump in the water and catch a fish with his bare hands. He needed a tool of some sort if he was going to catch anything, but where would he get one? What could he rig up from his limited supplies? Especially since he didn’t have any rope?

…Wait a minute…

“Oh I’m an IDIOT!” Tim lunged for the bed and looked beneath, just to double check, and found exactly what he needed. 

“Thank you rope beds.” Tim said appreciatively. He dragged the mattress off of the bed, revealing the framework of ropes that the mattress had rested on. Now all he had to do was carefully unknot it and he’d have more than enough rope to work with. 

Not enough to make a fishing net though. And not even preserving the rope framework as was would help since the holes in the rope were way too big to hold a fish too, but he’d have rope and that meant he had options. 

Tim’s first thought was to use the rope to rig up a fishing pole, but that wouldn’t work. He didn’t have a hook. Also the rope was really thick around and he wasn’t sure that was a good thing to have in a fishing pole. 

However, as he worked to deconstruct the bed, Tim thought about what else he’d been ignoring by thinking of the bed as a whole rather than as parts (just like with the lanterns). 

The mattress had a sheet on it. A blanket and pillow on that. Why couldn’t he turn the sheet into a good net? It wasn’t like he needed a sheet, and it’d be way better to lose the sheet than to, say, ruin a bunch of clothes. 

By the time Tim had finished unknotting the rope, his red fingers ached from the work, a minor headache was pounding away behind his left eye, and his fingernails felt like they were halfway to being ripped apart, but he had a plan. 

Step one, use his knife to stab a hole in each corner of the sheet.

Step two, attach the ropes to all four corners of the sheet.

Et voila! A makeshift net. Time to test it. Nevermind the fact that it was fully dark out there, Tim had SCIENCE to do now, the fun part of the process! Experimentation!

He gathered up his new net, exited the cabin, and tossed it into the water…and the answer for why a sheet wouldn’t make for a good net became ABUNDANTLY clear. The sheet didn't sink in the water at all. It’d be completely impossible to catch a fish in it. 

Figuring he needed to find a weight of some sort to tie onto the sheet, Tim pulled it out and discovered the second problem with using a sheet. As soon as he removed the tip of the sheet from the water, the sopping wet thing instantly became fifty pounds heavier. And a lot smellier. 

“Test one…total fail.” Tim grunted and huffed as he dragged the sheet out of the water.

Back inside the cabin, Tim lit his remaining lantern and examined the sheet. He could admit that maybe he’d been a little too quick to test his theory, he should have expected there to be some needed modifications other than the rope. 

The first problem could be solved just by attaching a weight to the sheet. The second problem though, now that was tricky to think about. The sheet was heavy as is, but if Tim had to pull it up with fish inside of it? That was going to be WAY too heavy for him! There was no way he was strong enough to pull the sheet back in if he had to contend with fish and the extra weight needed for a functional net. 

Tim bit his lip as he stared at the sodden sheet. 

How could he solve this?

Chapter Text

One fish. He’d caught one stinking fish. Jason was muttering every curse he knew as he returned to the box with his guppy Tim. His stomach gurgled, demanding to know why he wasn’t digging into the fish, but Jason ignored it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone without eating, and he had a guppy to take care of now. 

But fuck if he didn’t want to dig into this fish right this second. 

Jason made it back to the box and frowned. The sun had gone down while he’d been fishing, replaced by the moon. Jason didn’t know if Tim had gone to his nest or not, but if the guppy was awake, he wanted to make sure he was fed, so Jason pulled himself ontop of the platform again and whistled, high and shrill. 

“Hey! Brat! Get out here!” He called. 

There wasn’t a response for a second, and then the wall opened up and out came his guppy. While Jason didn’t know what Tim said then, or even what his face looked like, Jason quickly got the gist of what Tim was feeling. Mostly because the guppy’s first action was to hug him. 

For a second, Jason was frozen in shock. Sure, he’d hugged the guppy earlier, but that was different, the guppy had very clearly needed comfort. This…this didn’t make sense. He was a stranger to the guppy, they’d only just exchanged names. 

But the way Tim clung to him, shaking and desperate…it was full of relief. It left Jason wondering just how long this guppy had been alone. It had only been a day or so since the ship had sunk. Did it really only take that long for a guppy to get this sad about being left alone? To the degree that seeing ANYONE was this much of a relief?

Well, maybe. What did he know about land guppy’s and what they needed? Jason resolved to spend more time with Tim.

“Toldja I’d be back.” Jason returned the hug one-handed, the other still holding onto the fish. 

Tim didn’t have a response for that, but eventually he let go of Jason and backed away. Jason squinted, watching how Tim moved his hands up and down as he started to babble in his human language again. 

Jason couldn’t understand a word of it, so he decided he’d just work on the fish while Tim talked. Remembering how Alfred and Bruce used to debone the fish when he was too small to handle the bones himself, he got to work. 

First, slice off the head. There was no way this land guppy was strong enough to bite through a fish skull, so the head had to go. 

Then the fins because those were too bony for a guppy too.

As Jason diligently sliced those bits off, he went ahead and snapped them up for himself. It wasn’t a proper meal, not really, but it was food he could eat and it was way better than eating nothing. 

Next, Jason carefully drew a nail down the spine of the fish, just like Alfred had taught him. That done, he plucked the spine and rib cage out of the fish, spared a moment to think that while he COULD eat fish bones, the bones themselves didn’t really do much for him, and presented the fish to Tim. 

“Here. Ya need to eat somethin’.” Jason grumbled.

Tim stopped babbling, hands stilling. He said something and pointed at himself. 

Jason held the fish closer to Tim. “Yes. For you.” He said clearly. Then, just to make sure Tim understood, he pointed at the fish and pointed at Tim. Then he repeated the motion a couple times until Tim slowly reached out and accepted the fish. Tim bowed his head to Jason for a second. Maybe that was how humans showed thanks?

Honestly, Jason expected Tim to dig in and eat the fish then and there, but that’s not what happened? For some reason? Instead he walked back inside his box, came back two seconds later with some more stuff in his hands, and then got back ontop of the box?

“What’re you doin’?” Jason squinted as Tim disappeared. 

He thought about just letting it go. It was night, he was fucking tired, there was no reason to try and decipher the actions of a human THIS late at night. 

But color him curious, so instead of going to nest, Jason slipped off the platform and got ready to make a jump. 

Now, Jason wanted to get more than just a glimpse of whatever Tim was up to this time, so he aimed himself a little differently than his earlier jump. 

Jason dove deep into the waters, then rocketed upwards, breaking the surface in a single moment of power. Up, up, up he soared, hands reaching, grasping until-

SLAM!

Jason’s nails dug into the wood, he grit his teeth as he heaved himself up just another few inches, until finally, he was propped up on the box. Most of his tail dangled in the air, functionally useless, but his upper half was now splayed out on the box. Jason dragged himself a little bit more forward, just enough so he was no longer threatening to go back over the side, and then finally got his bearings and looked around.

Tim was halfway across the roof, frozen and, based on his experience so far with the guppy, probably staring again, not that Jason could see. 

He wondered if Tim’s eyes ever dried out from all the staring. Jason’s certainly would if he kept hanging out in the air like this.

He rested his head on his hand. “Well?” He prompted.

Tim jerked and then went back to…whatever he was doing. Jason couldn’t see for shit right now, so being up here might just be pointless.

And then it happened. Light just… appeared from nowhere. As if Tim had created a miniature sun. 

“What the fuck is that?!” Jason shouted, pulling himself just a little closer as he tried to see better. 

Tim jerked in response, said a quick stream of babble, before he stopped. He pointed at the light. “Fire.” He said.

“Fie?” Jason tried to repeat, then frowned because that definitely wasn’t what Tim said. 

“Fire.” Tim said. 

“Fi-uh?” Jason scowled as he, once again, got the damn word wrong. 

Tim shrugged and then turned back to his ‘fire’. For a few moments more, Jason didn’t see much else. The fire got bigger, brighter, he was fascinated by it, and then Tim did something weird. See, that fish he gave Tim? 

Tim put it ontop of the fire. Why? What did that do? Jason had absolutely no idea, this whole thing was completely out of his wheelhouse, but that’s what Tim did. He put the fish on some weirdly shaped object, then put it in the fire.

For a moment, they both watched the flames. Human and mer, staring into the fire as the moon watched them overhead. 

The moment was broken when Tim shook himself and crossed the roof towards Jason. He was holding something in his hands, but it wasn’t until he reached Jason that Jason figured out what it was. He could smell blood in the air and that made him realize that Tim was carrying part of the fish to him. 

Tim knelt down by Jason and offered the fish’s guts to him. 

It made his mouth water, but he pushed it back to Tim. “You need that. Food’s yours.” He said sternly.

Tim shook his head and pushed it back to Jason. “Jaswoon.” He said just as sternly. 

“Yours.” Jason glared. 

Tim made a deep, tired sound. He raised the guts to his mouth, then made a gagging sound and flopped down.

Now it was Jason’s turn to stare because. Was this land guppy saying that if he ate fish guts he’d die? What the fuck. What the fuuuuuuck. Why were humans so damn picky? Was he actually being serious right now? It was fish. Fish was fish. If you could eat part of it, why not eat the rest?

Tim sat up and held the fish guts back out to Jason. He thought about refusing it again, but if Tim was telling the truth…if he really couldn’t eat the guts, then Jason wasn’t about to let it go to waste. 

He swallowed the guts in one bite.