Chapter Text
Tommy has never had a family of his own. From the earliest of ages, he's always been here, stuck between the glass panes with striking eyes catching his every movement. They're green eyes, eyes that would be the shade of seaweed and kelp if he had ever gotten to visit the ocean floor, and they never leave him. He's not sure what they are or why he's here, what purpose he serves to him.
It's always been him, inside this cage of water, and he's never been allowed to leave, to see the beautiful colors of coral that cover every inch of sand or the schools of fish he's only heard of from Dream. He says it's bad for him, that the fish and the sharks and the other merfolks would hurt him, eat him right up. They're predators and he is the prey, they will do anything to get him right where they want him; that is the food hierarchy, he says.
The rocks in his tank are artificial, he knows. When he turns the dark matter over, he sees the printed words of, Made in China spelled out. Sometimes, when he's feeling almost homesick, longing for a place he's never known yet misses all the while, he traces the plastic words. He wishes he knew what real rocks felt like. He heard they were sharp and jagged, did they hurt to the touch? Others even say there's different kinds that are smooth and shine under the light. They range in size, texture, color, there's so many different varieties and Tommy wishes he could know them all.
The ocean is wide and goes deeper than any human can touch. He wonders what it would be like to swim for ages, to flap his tail, and never find an ending in sight. What would it be like to explore, to search for an ending, but never find it? There would be no glass panes trapping him in, no borders keeping him still, just the endless salt water and sand to dive into. He wants it badly, so badly , but he can't have it; he belongs here.
"How are you doing, Tommy?" The green-eyed monster asks, grinning in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His tongue feels swollen in his mouth and his throat dry despite the water surrounding every part of him. The best and worst parts of the day are when Dream visits him. It's great because he gets to talk to someone familiar, not being seen as a freakshow to be shown around to a group of humans, but it's also terrible because Dream looks at him like that , like he's a possession and he hates it. He feels so cramped in here and he wants so much but Dream says he shouldn't, that his mind is a bad thing.
"I'm good," He replies, a practiced lie he's perfected over the years.
I'm lonely, he'll get asked if his loyalty is so easily waived, if he doesn't see their friendship as important, if he doesn't appreciate Dream taking time out of his busy schedule as a collector and investor to visit him and him alone. I want to explore, I want to see the sea, only to be reminded how dangerous it is, how he won't even last a day out in the real sea where monsters are behind every coral reef. I want to be more than this, I want to feel the sunshine, feel the air, only for Dream to sneer at him, to question if he's not enough for him any longer.
He wants so much and it's wrong.
"Good, I'm glad to hear it," I'm happy you're behaving, he doesn't say. He doesn't need to. He knows. He knows because it's them, it's what they are. He is a trophy, one that needs to look beautiful and swim around in his tank.
They aren't friends.
"But you're my friend," Dream lies, always and always, pulling at his heartstrings, the things he desires the most but knows will never be within his grasp. This is his life; a lonely island destitute of water and endless visitors.
They're not friends, they're not, no matter how much Tommy wants a friend, a best friend, but he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't have a family, he will never have one. He has Dream and that's enough, right?
"I have a close friend visiting later today," Dream says and he perks up, his eyes widening. Dream's…friend?
Dream has brought a lot of people to see him. He's brought groups of friends with champagne glasses in their hands and a flush to their faces as they take him in and rake their eyes across his scales and the sharpness of his tail. They're always laughing, having a good time, and sometimes, those friends step too close and touch the glass. They ask him strange questions with a twisted look in their eyes, something that makes every nerve of his stand on end. It's something instinctual, something that tells him to get far away, and each time, Dream grabs them by their arm and pulls them away.
"Don't touch the merchandise," Dream warns, but it's said with a winning grin, as if he knows he holds all the power in the world. The world revolves around Dream, he's sure; he's charismatic, cunning, and has a way with words. If he wants it, he can have it.
"Oh," He says, feeling dread settle in his stomach. "Okay."
"Okay?" Dream says, raising a brow.
He swallows, "I…I look forward to meeting your friend. I'll be good."
At that, Dream smiles and for one moment, it feels real . It feels like Dream is proud of him, like he can't wait to show him off as someone he knows, but it's not that. Past the smile that could blind any creature, beyond the glinting eyes, it's hollow and a lie.
They're a lie.
He's a liar.
He's a merfolk, he knows that much, but is he really? He only knows how to swim because it's ingrained in his DNA as it is for humans to breathe, but he's never seen the ocean or even met another person like him. The only one he knows is, well, Dream.
He presses his hand to the glass and hates the way his heart soars when Dream matches him, their hands so close yet so far, separated by the thick glass of the tank.
He wishes for so much more than this life, just a prize to be shown off but kept far from the masses. Is that any way to live? It’s how he lives, so it must be right.
"That's my Tom." He says and it feels like home, if home was a house empty and wrong. A house with wallpaper tearing off the walls with broken windows and dust clinging to every inch of the furniture. As if a storm had come through and wrecked the place, but you know deep inside, it's always been that way.
Is that what home feels like?
It's later that day, just like Dream promised, that he enters with a lean man with faint scars lingering on his pale skin. Unlike Dream, who has dark blonde hair with it cut pretty short, the man's hair is long and pulled back by some sort of cloth, a gold ribbon maybe? His hair is a color he's rarely seen, it's pink.
Pink is soft and it is rare. It holds a special place in his heart, as he barely gets to see it. A while back, he had seen a couple of girls with pink in their hair or in what they wore and he had been mesmerized with the safety that oozed off the color. It felt nice, like what he imagines hugs to be.
"What is it that you're so excited to show me that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" The voice flows through the room, leaking in from the hallway and his heartbeat spikes as he watches the doorknob jingle, a classic sign that Dream is about to enter. It's almost like a warning for him to know, Hey, be ready now. "You know my family is big on having dinner together, annoying as it is, which means they're idiots and they’re going to wait for me couldn’t you have done this at another time…?"
"Trust me, Techno, this is worth being late for!" Dream says, the sound of his telltale grin when he’s really excited with shimmering lights in his eyes is clear. When they enter the room, as usual, Dream is blinding and Tommy is envious.
Dream has given him everything, so why does he want more? Why does he want to be the one on the outside of the tank? Why does he crave for a home that never belonged to him in the first place? Why does he betray and hurt Dream, the one person who has fed him and gave him fresh water to safely swim in, with all these feelings that he can’t seem to get rid of?
Red eyes, red like he’s never experienced red with blistering flames and the blood that flows underneath his skin kind of red, look up at him. They’re sharp and striking and if he was a fool, he would think the man, Techno, could see past everything. He feels seen in a way he’s never felt before, as if the world has focused in on him and his breath stutters in his chest. Those eyes take him in, lips part and release a speechless breath. The light burns brighter, orbs shining in the ruby, as his eyes widen, the shock clear on his face, but it’s different with him, somehow.
Most people Dream brings around tend to be excited, the shock hits them like a truck before it’s replaced by a grin that spreads from ear to ear. As if they were walking in a surprise birthday party that was meant for them, but with this man, it’s different. The smile doesn’t come to his face as fluidly as the others. The small smile, the one that was polite but kind, is dropped instead as his voice cuts off. It’s almost as if he struggles to see what’s before him.
It’s not like merfolk are necessarily rare, are they? He doesn’t know much of the outside world but he does know that people are aware of their existence, especially humans since that’s all Dream ever seems to bring. Just as he knows humans exist, they know merfolk exist. So why is he struggling, acting as if it’s impossible to comprehend him? Sure, he himself has never met another of his kind, but certainly that isn’t the bar set for humans, right?
“You told me before Wilbur is actually a merfolk himself,” Dream goes, a speech dancing on his tongue. He’s always been a great host, constantly offering guests a bubbly champagne or perfectly aged wine and joking with them and being overly talkative with them. This time is no different; he walks towards the alcohol cooler, grabbing a red wine bottle and a champagne bottle, turning them towards Techno with a grin and an offer. “It seems we have common interests, Techno. Now I know we already did both love fencing, but we’re a bit different right? You actually fence and I’m just an avid fan, I haven’t fenced since I was in middle school, it’s been that long! But this ? Now this is different, we both know them.”
There’s something vile in those words that he can’t make sense of. He’s heard Dream talk like this a thousand times over, but this is different. It’s almost as if he’s trying to convince Techno of something, get him to see things the way he views it, but there’s something going horribly wrong with it, based on the way anger begins to overflow from Techno. He turns towards Dream, a sneer on his face, and hell, even he’s scared!
Techno marches forward and breaks the short distance between the two before grabbing the collar of Dream’s ironed-down shirt, pulling him until their faces are inches apart. “My brother is not some trophy to be won! He’s not a toy or a prisoner, he’s not something you can have! He’s not a sparkly new car or limited-edition stamp, he’s a person!”
His voice is red hot and angry, fury flows through every word. He’s never even seen someone else so much as raise their voice at Dream, let alone lay their hands on him. He’s too important, he’s too perfect, so why would anyone?
“How dare you do this? He’s just a kid, Dream!” Techno shouts and it reverberates through the glass. He feels it deep inside of himself, it’s gross and cheesy to say, but he feels it in his soul. Something about his words, about his anger, resonates with his heart, with him. “I don’t know what messed with you to make you think this is okay but it’s not! My family are not collections, they’re my family. What have you done?”
The last sentence is a painful question, it sounds desperate. It’s full of raw hurt and agony, one that Tommy has trouble understanding himself. He swims forward, pressing his hands against the glass, and looking closer at the two…friends?
“What are you talking about? We’re friends, Techno, you need to breathe.” Dream quips, a smile on his face. “I haven’t done anything to the kid. I gave him a home, food, practically a room, just like Phil did for Wilbur and you, shouldn’t you be happy? If it wasn’t for me that kid would be eaten alive out there in the wild.”
“How long?” Techno asks and his expression makes Tommy so confused. He’s in so much pain, something tearing at his heart that it nearly makes him come to tears and that something has to do with Tommy? How can one feel so much, for a creature he doesn’t even know the name of? “How long have you kept him in that shitty tank? How long have you been showing him off like he’s a fancy wine? I wasn’t the first you asked, was I?”
Dream goes silent like that and his stare is dark and sharp. The air in the room shifts and Tommy can practically see the tension from inside the water.
“Why are you being this emotional over a mer?” Dream asks, slapping away Techno’s hands that held onto the collar of his dress shirt. “He’s fine. He has his water, his fish food, and he hasn’t been harmed. I’ve never hit him, calm down.”
“Has he ever even seen the ocean?”
“He doesn’t need to,” Dream says, huffing. “He has all the water he needs right here.”
He’s not entirely sure what happens next, it just happens all so fast. It feels like a blur really. The next thing he can clearly see is Techno’s sneer, his anger made clear in the furrowing of his brow and the clenching of his fists, dotted with red. Dream has fallen on his back, clutching his face, as if for dear life, and glaring up at Techno through the gaps between his fingers.
“You’re a horrible person,” Techno spits. “He’s a person too, he’s alive too. He’s not something for you to own. I don’t care if you’re some fancy collector, he’s a living being too.”
The man turns to him, the anger he holds releasing from his face with an exasperated sigh. “You’ll do good to stay away from me and my family from now on.”
“What? But we’re friends, Techno!”
“No we’re not!” Techno snaps, “Anyone who would do anything like this is not a friend of mine and doesn’t deserve to be a part of my life, let alone breathe.”
He walks forward and Tommy feels his throat grow dry. He’s unsure what to do, what to say. How does he act now? This isn’t like every other event he’s grown accustomed to, what does he do?
Something warm settles in his chest when Techno presses his hand against the glass, right where Tommy’s is, and his gaze is glued to it. His hand is bigger than his.
“What’s your name?”
He blinks up at the man. His gaze is soft, patient, almost cruelly kind. He doesn’t have it in him to ignore such a person. “It’s…Tommy.”
“Well Tommy,” Techno smiles, sweet and gentle. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dream struggling back to his knees and glaring over his shoulder. He raises to his feet, staggering over. “How would you like to get out here?”
“Where would I go?” He asks and he hopes that’s the end of it because Dream is getting closer and he looks angry .
“To the sea,” Techno says, with a smile that burns brighter than anything he’s ever known. His smile is like the stars: small, pretty, and it burns through the endless darkness.
“I can,” He swallows. “Go to the ocean?”
“Yeah,” Techno promises. “I have a brother of mine, his name is Wilbur. He’s like you, he’s mer as well, but I’m pretty sure he’s older than you. He’s older than me. Would you like to meet him?”
In all his years kept with Dream in this room, in this tank, he’s never once been allowed outside and not once has he met another like him. What would they be like? What color would be their scales? What shape would be their fin? The style of their swimming?
He wants and he wants and he wants.
“I want to,” He says, desperation said in every part of his words but he sees Dream just a few feet away and knows it’s impossible. “But I can’t. I’m not allowed.”
“Forget him,” Techno glances behind him, sending a sharp glare towards Dream who only matches it, stumbling forward only for when he gets close enough for Techno for the human to be able to shove him to the ground. He watches, in mild curiosity, as Techno raises his leg and hits the back of Dream’s shoulders with the sole of his foot, pinning him to the floor. “What about you? What do you want?”
“I want…” He looks down at Dream’s green eyes, “I want to go to the sea and see it.”
“Then,” Techno smiles and this time, it’s one that feels real. Nothing is hidden behind it, just a softness Tommy can’t understand. “Let’s go.”
There’s a sharp cracking of glass, red wine spilling everywhere as the water rushes forward, covering Techno and getting his clothes wet. Worse than that, Tommy follows the water, like a boat on rocking waves, and slams their chest together, knocking over Techno and ending up on top of him.
He breathes in and uses his lungs for what feels like the first time.
The air tastes so different compared to the water.
“There we go,” Techno sits up, taking Tommy in his hold and wrapping his arm underneath his tail, and standing up. He holds tightly onto Techno even as his senses go into overload. His skin is drying slowly and his hair is dripping wet, dotting the back of his neck with droplets. Techno is warm and he holds on tightly with his rough hands. “I’m going to assume you don’t know how to shift?”
He blinks at him, confused at the question.
“I can shift?” He asks, trying to rack his brain for what the stranger might mean but he comes up empty-handed.
“Oh Wilbur is going to love you,” Techno chuckles, a grin brighter than the stars. He was wrong about Dream’s smile being like the sun. His smile was like a dark void, a black hole that sucks you in and ruins everything you cared about. Techno’s smile though? It was warm and radiant, as if he wanted to bask you in all his joy and happiness. “Don’t worry about it so much right now little one.”
Little one?
His cheeks flush red and wow, that’s a new one. He’s never felt like this before.
“I am not little!”
“Of course not my precious mermaid.”
“Excuse you?”
"Oh, oh my goodness," A pair of hands reach forward and grasp his face between their gentle grip. Amber brown eyes, a softness in them stilling him quiet, stare at him, examining his face. "He's so young, how old are you?"
He gulps, "Fifteen…?"
The brunette makes a choked noise, ripping his hands back like he's been burned and placing them over his heart. He turns to Techno with an unbridled pain in his eyes, ruined by a secret he can’t understand, with a scowl. “I want a shot at him, c’mon, I can throw a good punch can’t I?”
“What?” Techno says with a grin, an endeared look in his eyes, turned towards the smaller man. “No way, absolutely not. I gave him a good punch and stepped on him, that’ll be enough for now. I told him to stay away from us and that he’s not welcomed around here, so I don’t think you need to worry about him.”
“I’m not worried, I want to give that bastard what he rightfully deserves!” Wilbur hisses out, his shoulders drawing up and his eyes growing sharper. If Tommy was a little more drowsier, he might have missed the way his skin seemed more blue than white or the way the faint lines of veins started to form. He was angry, enraged. He was a predator, one he had been warned about by Dream himself, yet none of that rage was turned towards him but rather Dream, his owner.
He realizes, oh, this is a merfolk who is seething with fury.
He watches in awe as Techno reaches over and flicks the man’s forehead, his head tipping back and the anger falling from his face as he reaches to grab the spot where Techno hit. “Stop hissing at me you dork.”
Wilbur flushed at that, his eyes returning to normal yet he continues to glare, but this time, playfully. “I told you not to call me that!”
“Stop being one then.” Techno quipped.
Through their bickering, Tommy took note of the scales framing the man’s face, they were shiny and blue. It made him think of his dreams, the cruel ones where he dreamt of the beautiful salt waters and the swimming fish, and they were so bright and beautiful, unlike his own. His scales, despite having only been in water, are dull and dry. They’re nothing like his; their scales are shining, as if the moonlight is meant just for him to glow under, and they’re more beautiful than Tommy’s ever seen. They say, at least to humans, that merfolk are one of most graceful, majestic, and eye-catching creatures of the world. He’s never felt like that, he’s always felt like an inferior version of what he’s supposed to be.
He’s not graceful at all, he stumbles on his words all the time and doesn’t know how to act, even with proper instruction with Dream's careful words. He’s not majestic, he can’t swim laps for miles or do amazing tricks or anything like people seem to enjoy. He’s certainly not beautiful; his scales are dull, the bottom of his tail has scars from rope burns he doesn’t remember, and he doesn’t know how to control his talons. He’s a skinny wannabe of a merfolk, someone who wants to live up to what they’re meant to be but can never grasp it within their hands with no skill of their own to use.
“Wilbur…?” He mutters, recalling the name Techno used before. The man, Wilbur, turns to him with lights shining in his eyes. They’re pretty, he thinks. The brunette offers him a smile, approaching him with a gentle one, and he zeros in on the way the light catches on his scales, making them glow. They’re so pretty, his mind supplies again, unhelpfully.
“Hello there,” The man smiles, sweet. “Yes, that’s my name. What’s yours?”
“Tommy…” He says after a moment, staring up at his face before looking down at his hands. He has some sort of instinctual urge to reach out and grab his hand. Before he can stop himself, his hand is reaching out slowly and Wilbur catches sight of it, but he isn’t weirded out by it. Instead, he reaches out towards Tommy, intertwining their fingers, as if he welcomes it instead.
“There you are,” Wilbur smiles, as if their intertwining hands means something and he’s sure it does as he feels something surge through him, something tying them together. It’s a feeling, a zap of energy traveling between them.
“We’re…” Tommy breathes out, feeling something warm overtake him. “We’re the same…”
“We are,” Wilbur grins and it’s so marvelous. It draws him in and he wants to see it over and over again. What is this feeling? “It’s nice to meet you, little one.”
There it is.
“I’m not little!” He yanks his hand back, glaring up at the fellow merfolk who only grins in return. “I told you, I’m fifteen!”
“But you’re so tiny,” Wilbur says and it almost sounds sad. “Your poor scales, you haven’t been able to take care of them, have you? Techno said you don’t even know how to shift, oh, oh! Your tail looks injured, are you okay? Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t, it’s just a scar.” He huffs, glaring at him. “I don’t even remember how I got it. It’s been there since I could think and I get it okay? Mine aren’t as pretty or majestic or whatever the fuck yours are, okay? You don’t have to rub it in that I’m not good at being a mer.”
“Oh…” Wilbur said, shaking his head frantically. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. You’re so much more than whatever that shithead Dream told you, he deserves another right hook. You’re lovely, dear, okay? I don’t mean you’re not, okay? Your scales are dried out because you haven’t been able to take care of them, I bet that green bitch didn’t even know how to or teach you how right?”
Oh.
No one has ever talked to him so softly before, so considerately of his feelings and his heart. They don’t want to hurt him, they care about him. He can’t help but wonder why? Dream raised him, taught him how to speak, how to act, yet he was never like this.
“Why - why didn’t Dream teach me?” He murmurs, despite himself.
Agonizing lines form on Wilbur’s expression and he scoots closer to him, slowly and gently, taking Tommy’s upper half into his arms and hugging him close. He feels the fuzzy material of his sweater against his skin. It’s different, it’s new, it’s exciting.
"I'm sorry," Wilbur whispers in his ear, agony written in every word. "You should have never been taken from your home, from your sea, from your family before you were ready. You were so young, younger than me."
"You - you were taken?"
"I was," Wilbur says. "I was taken when I was ten. They kidnapped me, used one of those fish nets that they use on the sardines, and trapped me. Sold me off to the highest bidder because merfolk are pretty right?"
Sounds familiar, doesn't it? The question his mouth doesn't say but it lingers in Tommy's mind, a knife twisting in his chest and the liquid falling, covering him all over.
"But Phil and Tech saved me," Wilbur says, looking him in the eyes. "They're my family now, they gave me a life."
Oh, so the reason Techno saved him was because…
He saw Wilbur in him.
He's not sure why he felt his heart sink in his chest. Techno's anger had felt so personal, so real, as he actually saw Tommy, beyond his heritage and beyond the glass.
"You're safe now," Wilbur said, the palm of his hand pressed against his cheek, cooling the flush of heat there. He smiled softly. "No one can hurt you here, no one will keep you here."
He's safe, he says. He's going to be okay, his eyes promise. He'll never have to go back to that suffocating tank again, his hand swears.
"Now why don't we do something about scales?" Wilbur grins. "Let's clean you up. I'll show you how to freshen up and treat them, okay?"
Looking away, suddenly feeling shy, "Okay."
As Wilbur takes him in his arms, all he can think is, Is everyone in this family so warm and gentle when they hold others? He tried to not think of the green monster that was breaking out inside his chest. He shoved it down.
He wants so much and even after his wish has been granted, a chance to finally see and explore the sea, but he needs more.
Something deep inside him tells him he needs them, another part of him dies at the idea.