Chapter Text
This was quite possibly the worst mistake of Wilbur's life. He should turn around now before he gets caught. He could go home, and no one would know, not even Phil.
And Phil's already threatened him not to come here. If he trips an alarm, his dad won't bail him out.
Why was he even sure that breaking into this company’s CEO’s office was a good idea? It had been almost four months since the company fell under federal jurisdiction after the public found out they kept merfolk as pets and entertainment, two and a half since the raid that freed the mers from the company’s grasp. Logically, nothing was here.
But something doesn't add up.
According to inside sources, the company is responsible for 42% of all merfolk trafficking, with the average employee owning three to five mers. The CEO, claims the source, owns no less than seven merfolk and showcases them to make deals across the globe.
Wilbur didn't need to pull out the articles, he long since memorized them, but did so anyway, just to soothe that itch to know he wasn't crazy. The routine motions of smoothing out the edges helped keep him calm.
The facility was able to take in all 58 merfolk, and plan on rehabilitating and releasing those who can safely return to the ocean while keeping an eye on the ones who can't make the trip to the beach. There is no news on the five merfolk rescued from the CEO’s grasp, as their case has been marked with the highest security clearance within the facility: crowfather.
It wasn't just the news articles, either. In his office, he had an entire wall of proof of his theory; tax write-offs, pictures, printouts of emails and messages, anything that supported the nagging feeling in his gut that they overlooked something- or someone, rather.
Okay, maybe he could see why everyone thinks he snapped.
But nothing added up. Where did the two mer go? The facility had been worried about taking in so many mer, because of room restraints, so wilbur's interest first peaked when he came home to Phil telling him he was sleeping at the rehab facility to help out. Phil wouldn't have stayed without a good reason, and after some digging, he found that Phil never left the company building that night at all, tightlipped about his reason for staying behind.
It didn't take him long to figure it out. It was obvious that the feds missed something the first time, and although it might be possible the two mer were taken when the CEO ran, it was much more likely that the cops just. Skipped over a room or something.
“Wannabe pod-guarders are stupider than they seem. Many of them showed up at the pit, and not a single one did anything about it. Then they got mad at me when I assumed they were trying to kill me, so.” Technoblade agreed, shrugging his shoulders.
Techno’s approval did not gain sympathy to his theory, though, since apparently “Tech is biased” and “Doesn't know what good cops are like”
Which led to Wilbur standing in front of two large glass doors, holding a rock from Techno’s tank in his hand.
“A gift,” he loudly proclaimed, puffing his chest out in pride “for wreaking people’s shit with. It's good for bashing skulls in, if you need it. ”
Wilbur wasn't smashing skulls, but windows? Absolutely.
Taking a deep breath, he threw the rock as hard as he could at the doors. Like promised, the door completely shattered, leaving glass only on the floor, so Wil didn't have to worry about getting cut too much on a quick way out of it.
Well, he couldn't regret anything now, if he was wrong about this then he'd just have to deal with the consequences.
The building was a mess, still not cleaned from the raid a while back, furniture moved haphazardly to make room for the rescue teams.
Wilbur remembered waiting at the office, watching from afar, while Phil and the more senior members of the rehab facility went out to help with the government-sanctioned raid of the building. This was his first-ever project, and he had felt angry when he was told to stay behind.
“This is bullshit! I've done so much work for this extraction, and they just put me on the sidelines when the paperwork is done? Have I not proven that I can-”
“Calm down, Will” Technoblade grumbled, tail flicking water onto Wilbur’s jeans. Prick.
“You're Phil’s hatchling. And from what I've heard, this mission is supposed to be brutal. Phil doesn’t want you to be ready for what they find. I understand the instinct to keep the little ones away from danger.”
Right, leave it to techno to make him feel guilty about wanting to prove himself.
“Right. Of course, you do. Well, techno, I'm pleased to tell you that-”
He wasn't able to finish his sentence because Techno ducked under the water in a flash, purposely splashing Wilbur again.
“Hey!” he sputtered.
His tirade was, again, cut off before it could even begin, with the sound of shouting and doors slamming open. The teams were back, shouting and weaving back and forth and-
Oh- these guys didn't look good.
After that, he didn’t question his place in missions. He was more than fine with just the paperwork, and the occasional rehab training, if it meant he didn't have to see another mer like- that again.
He shook his head, as if that would get the memories of the mers ( malnourished, beaten, terrified- ) out of his mind, focusing instead on the sounds of the building, the creak of the floorboards, the wind hitting the windows, and shifting the glass shards slightly, the absence of an air conditioner, and the faintest drone of a water filter trying to fill itself with water unsuccessfully.
Why could he hear a filter? Didn't they turn them all off as they went through the aquariums? Did they forget to turn one off?
Or did they miss a tank?
He traveled towards the sound, picking a few locks when an unopened door stood in his way. The CEO’s office stood proud, at the end of a hallway Wilbur could only assume no one searched in the pandemonium of rescuing 58 merpeople. Nothing had been moved around, prepped for transportation, and papers laid everywhere, obviously, someone didn't want certain documents found. A few burnt stacks rested on a filing cabinet, charred to shit.
Despite all this, Wilbur found himself focused on only the water filter, chug, chug, chugging along.
The door to the office was slightly ajar, one less barrier between Wilbur and his goal; the truth.
The second the door opened a fraction, Wilbur could smell it. If he couldn't hear the filter, he’d assume there wasn't one at all- a heavy miasma of fish, filth, and death filled the air around him, it was all he had not to gag.
Wilbur can't help but think about the pits, where he and Phil found Techno, and decided to start up the facility.
He can't decide if this place smells worse.
An almost trill-like sound came from the room, so he stepped in, to take a closer look.
Two tanks sat, opposite each other but close in proximity. The one on his right had the filter he had been hearing, an above-water filter not able to reach the water level. It looks like it only ran out of water a few days ago, meaning it would have been silent during the raid.
The one on his left was obviously the cause of the smell, the water almost an opaque green-brown. The filter would’ve had to stop months before, even before the raid, if the tank even had one in the first place.
Wilbur couldn't see anything in the tanks, and he couldn't tell if he was relieved or not.
He pursed his lips- looks like he’d been wrong after all. He turned around. Maybe he could leave before he found out about a silent alarm the hard way.
Everyone was right, the numbers didn't even change that much, he had just been pulling shit from nowhere and now look where-
“Oi, mate! Stop!”
What the fuck?!?!?!
Wilbur turned around so fast, he almost fell.
Holy shit what was that, is there someone there?
“H-hello?” he sounded like a blonde girl in her basement- and felt like one too. Was there actually a mer in one of those tanks? Maybe a human sitting out of sight??
Oh god, what if it's the cops?
No, he couldn't think like that, not if he was… right. Shit, was there really a mer here?
It would have to be in the opaque water, yeah, the sound came from that side of the room, so it has to be the opaque, algae-covered tank. Wilbur inched closer to it, eyes darting frantically for the slightest sign of movement.
A hand popped out of nowhere in the tank, and Wilbur screamed, flinching back.
This was some horror movie shit.
There wasn't just a hand though, the flashlight caught a pair of luminescent eyes, peering from a pile of algae and moss.
Was- was the pile a fucking mer ?
“Mate, there.” Wilbur had no time to be horrified at the state of this guy, allowing himself to look at the direction the mer pointed.
From this angle, he could see a mer in the cleaner tank, curled up on the tank floor.
Fuck, these guys have been here the whole time?
“Good, pretty, strong. Useful. Lots. Take. Take mate, now.” the mer spoke- trying to tell Wilbur something in his limited vocabulary. Wilbur was in the process of trying to learn more, but he was definitely out of his skill set right here. The mer knew English, though, at least a little, so that was a start.
Let's see… was the mer trying to convince Wilbur to take his friend(he hoped that this was his friend, considering the British accent and the fact that the two had been separated for this long, mates couldn't live apart, in his experience.) by expressing his good qualities?
Holy shit, these guys are messed up.
Right, focus!
“That's your mate, huh? Sure, we’ll fix him right up, bud, and we’ll help you too, okay?” Wilbur made sure to speak in low, soothing tones, to try and keep both himself and the mer in front of him calm.
It didn't work, he guessed, since the mer started chirping faster than he could keep up with. He may have heard the word “No” in English, and he didn't want to think about what the mer could have meant by that- if he even really knew what he was saying.
“Hey, everything's going to be alright, I'll call Phil and help will be here in a few minutes, you and your mate will be fine, I promise.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone to call his father- god he hoped Phil would pick up, he wasn't sure what he was doing- it’s one in the morning and these people needed help now-
The phone picked up on the sixth ring.
“‘’Ilbur?” okay- so that answered the question about the silent alarm, Phil would have been alerted if someone broke into a building under his jurisdiction, not dead asleep.
“Phil, I was right about this place- fucking hell, I should have broke in sooner, this- “
“You broke in? Didn't I say-” Wilbur could hear the rustle of the bed as his dad threw his blankets back.
“There's no time to lecture me, Philza, I need two mer rescue squads, like, five minutes ago. Fuck, Phil, one of these guys doesn't have a working filter, you can't even see him in the water-”
“Okay, okay, calm down, you need two? How long have … are they both alive? Have you checked on them?”
Right, the oddly still mer. Shit.
“um hold on- “ he turned to the mer, still pressed to the glass, watching him intensely.
“Hey, uh, sir, is your, uh mate? Alive?” Wilbur flushed. “I don't know if you can understand me, I'll see if I can tell myself-” without waiting for an answer from the mer, he turned around and focused his light on the one he was praying was still alive.
He didn't want to think about the mer’s reaction to his mate being dead.
The mer behind him chirped, something sad, pleading, and- young . He didn't know how to feel about that.
“Phil doesn’t want you to be ready for what they find.”
Maybe he could give Phil a break next time he wasn't allowed on the rescue mission.
The mer in front of him twitched, and Wilbur's mind went blank with joy.
“Yeah he’s- he’s alive for now, that's- yeah.”
“What's their tail look like?”
“I can't tell, it's dark in here, I only have a flashlight on me, but-”
“ What do you mean, you only have a- ” Phil’s tone sharpened, getting ready for his usual ‘dad lecture’, despite the fact that there wasn't any fucking time for this-
“Well, I didn't know I'd have to give a medical in the pitch dark!”
Silence took over the call, followed by the sound of the kitchen chair moving and Phil typing on his laptop.
Will continued looking over the sleeping mer, looking for anything that could be a reason to not take the mer in, relief filling his chest when his second look over still turned up clear.
“Sorry, mate-”
“No, it’s- whatever. I don't see any red spots on his tail, he looks normal, I think. I've never had to look them over, I don't know, you should probably send over Niki and Sam- maybe even Puffy, I'm getting weird vib-”
“What about the other one? Did you check him out too?” oh .
That might be a problem, with the opaque water and the mer being- well, awake.
“Uh- no, I don't- hold on." he lowered his phone, and took a few steps closer to the mer, who had inched away from the glass, leaning back in a resting position, although it didn't look very comfortable, with him forcing all of his scales under the water, and wow, there wasn't very much water in there was there?
“Are you going to let me check you out? Your tail, I mean?”
The mer looked at him questioningly, before drawing into himself and quietly hissing.
Right, no touching.
“Got it!” he chirped.
He almost brought the phone up to his ear again, ready to spout off at Phil again, but something in the back of his mind made him freeze.
These guys were pets, weren't they? What did this mer think of him, barging in like this?
Even more importantly, wasn't another mer forced into mutism because of these guys? Was this mer submitted to the whole “seen but never heard” treatment as well?
"Thank you. For getting my attention. I don't know if you understand me, or even understand what you said. But that was really brave of you, shouting for me like that. You did good. You- yeah. Really good.”
The mer’s eyes widened, then softened. It seems that was the right thing to say, and as a smile ghosted on the mer’s face, Wilbur found himself able to breathe a little easier.
“Yeah, Phil I'm not checking his tail-”
“Are you sure that's a good-”
“Even if I thought I wouldn't get attacked, I'm pretty sure I'll get an infection if I go in his-”
“It’s that bad?” the typing stopped, and Wilbur could practically feel Phil's blood pressure rising.
“ Yes it's that bad, did you think I was exaggerating? This is worse than the Shlatt thing-
“Fuck, man.”
“Yeah, that bad. Like- remember Techno’s tank? The second one?” Phil hummed in confirmation, which, of course, he did, the tank haunted the two of them most nights.
“Yeah, we couldn't see him through the water, it's the same thing just- not blood.”
“Do you think he’s been domesticated? Has he been aggressive?” well, other than the one hiss, not really. Was that good enough evidence?
“Maybe? I mean- he called out to me-” and what would have happened if he hadn't? Wilbur had turned away from the two, and he was leaving.
“That's a good sign.”
“Well, we also thought Techno was docile around us, and what did that get us?” a sigh emanated from the other end. “Yeah, that's what I thought. Don't trust a dog just cause it licks your hand man-” Phil cut him off with a laugh.
“No one says that mate, you made that up.”
“Hey, maybe that is something people say, and you're just old!” he laughed, watching the gentle rise and fall of the sleeping mer’s chest, before turning back to the one that was awake.
“Philza Minecraft you are just-” he was able to see the mer’s head drop a bit, and through the film covering him, Will could make out his eyes closing.
That- that wasn't ideal. People hurt this bad weren't supposed to sleep, right? He needed to- fuck the panicky feeling came rushing back.
“Hey, wait, you can't go to sleep, fuck, Phil how much longer do we have to wait, I'm not sure if-” Wilbur cut himself off, unable to keep going down that train of thought. He had to have found these guys in time. He had to have.
“Hey man, I need you to stay awake for me, for your mate, right? You're probably all kinds of sick, you can't just-” he ran his hand through his hair, taking a shaky breath.
“Phil I don't know what to do I need-”
“Calm down, the gangs like- thirty seconds away- they're almost here Wil, it's going to be fine, you got to them just in time.”
As if on cue, he could hear Puffy shout Wilbur's name, and the crunch of glass from his initial break-in sight.
And as Niki and Sam’s teams started their job, testing the water, sorting out initial diagnoses, best transportation plans, and survival rates, Puffy rested a hand on his shoulder and praised him for following his gut.
“From what those two are saying over there, they wouldn't have made it another night. You did good, love.” he nodded, mutely.
And as everyone worked together to bring the two newest patients to the rehab clinic without killing them, Wilbur couldn't help but wish he really was imagining the scuffed reports, as everyone said.