Chapter Text
It smells like a new house does, and your father looks immensely proud as he watches you take a deep breath of that lovely new house smell as the two of you cross the threshold. From the look on his face, you’d think he built the place himself - and he probably thinks he did, from behind a desk in his office, jabbing his finger at blueprints and house plans and barking orders at a contractor, an architect, and an interior designer -
“You’re going to love your room,” your father says. The excitement in his voice makes you smile. You will love your room, if only because he’s so sure that you will. “I made sure it was exactly everything you’d want.”
You can see your reflection in the brand new hardwood floors of the foyer. Off to one side there’s a dining room with a table far too big for just the two of you, and through the wide arch of another doorway you can see parts of an armchair and sofa that look too soft and expensive to sit on. Your father is listing names and numbers - designers and prices, peering at you out of the corner of his eye, looking for awe. And you know by now to ooh and ahh and nod in all the right places. Your approval means the world to him.
“I screened the staff personally,” your father says. “They’re all easy to get along with. Hard workers. There’s always someone on-duty at all hours of the day.”
You know that however much staff is on hand, it’s too many for just the too of you. But you look up at your father with all the giddy excitement of the spoiled little girl you are. His little princess. Your excitement fuels his. He looks ready to burst.
“But that’s nothing,” your father says. “I have a surprise for you, Y/N.”
In your experience, his surprises are usually an oversized box in your room, filled with ten times more than necessary of something you’ve mentioned wanting in passing - plushie monsters from a video game, a certain type of candy, what have you. But your father is heading towards a set of stairs leading down, and you don’t think your room is in the basement. He motions for you to follow, and you jog over to his side.
It isn’t your room downstairs - it’s his office. An enormous room, lined with so many bookshelves it might as well be a library, with a conference table on one end, littered with boxes because you’re still moving in, and there’s a massive TV and a lounge area and even a mini-bar and -
- and an aquarium spanning the entire wall behind your father’s desk. It’s massive. Brightly colored fish are flitting around an artificial reef, around artificial rocks, and you think you see a flash of scales on something too big to just be another fish.
Your father eyes you, waiting for your reaction, as it - no, he swims into view. Over six feet long. Shimmering blue scales, a wide fan-like tailfin. Long, scaly arms, a handsome face, a huge mass of brown curly hair. You blink, you look away and back again, but no, you aren’t imagining it. There’s a merman swimming around in your father’s office aquarium.
He sees the two of you. He sees you. He swims down, until he’s right in front of you, and he puts both hands to the glass. He’s looking deep into your eyes and you can’t bring yourself to fake amazement. He looks miserable. His big brown eyes are huge and frightened. He’s looking at you as if he expects you to help him, but what can you do?
Your father takes your stunned silence as a compliment anyway. “They’re very rare, I’m sure you know. One of my associates managed to catch him. Wanted to catch more, but they’re slippery, elusive. He invited me to the exhibit and I had to have it. It was expensive, but more than worth it, if only to surprise you.”
You’re surprised, that’s for sure. You reach up and place your hands on the glass too - the merman’s hands are large against yours, and the glass is cold. You can see your father’s reflection in the glass, next to the merman’s forlorn face.
“Uh…” You’re a little at a loss for words. “What’s his name?”
“Name?” your father repeats. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure they have their own language, or something - it’s probably something we can’t even pronounce.” He moves on immediately. “I’m going to show it off to some potential business partners of mine flying in later this week. They’re going to lose their minds. Everyone’s going to want one.”
He rattles on, but you aren’t listening. The merman is saying something, but you can’t hear him through the thick glass. His mouth moves over and over and it takes you a moment but you realise what he’s saying -
“Please,” the merman says. “Help me.”