Work Text:
Gus 2.0 is a goldfish. Goldfish are not smart, but he likes to think he can think.
For most of his short life, he has lived in a cozy little shop surrounded by other fish. He is fed daily by the almighty feeder, and he is mostly comfortable. Days come and go. His tankmates change often. Life is good. Life is boring. It’s a bit lonely.
One day, a man comes into the store asking for a fish with one fin. Gus 2.0, although that isn’t his name yet, thinks he looks a little funny. Maybe sad.
But what would he know? He’s a fish.
Madam Shopkeeper talks to the man, and Gus 2.0 can see them both getting upset. The man insists on a fish with one fin while Madam Shopkeeper insists that none exist here.
After a tense moment of the man bumping his head against a wall, he comes back and waves at the tank Gus 2.0 is swimming in.
And thus, Gus 2.0 is adopted.
The apartment he is brought to is cluttered and messy, but the fish tank is nice and spacious. The water is clean, the pebbles are fascinating, and there are many places to explore.
“Steven won’t notice,” the man says, staring at Gus 2.0. His eyes flicker to the fins and Gus 2.0 wonders when he’ll be fed.
“Who am I kidding, of course he will. He called it his one-finned wonder.”
He runs a hand down his face and paces around the room.
“How did I forget to feed it? God, I can’t even keep a goldfish alive. And Gus was— is important to him. He’ll know, and then he’ll look, and I can’t—” He releases a long breath.
That sounds like something Gus 2.0 should be worried about. Food is a big part of his life, and without it, there is no life. It’s a profound thought for a fish to have. He could be a fish philosopher. The first one, in fact. A philosofish.
Look at that. He’s geniusing already.
“At least I have the scarab. I don’t know what I’d do if Steven…”
The man stops pacing.
“He was driving a van. He went into the village and stole a van. From who, Ammit’s followers? Khonshu said they were dangerous, so how did he do that?”
Gus 2.0 swims to the bubbles and swallows a few. It tickles. And it’s not that filling.
“The van had bullet holes. There was blood. There’s no way he did all that, right? Not by himself.” He turns to Gus 2.0. “Did Khonshu— What are you doing?”
He’s bumping his head against the tank. It’s solid and well kept. The man comes over and taps on the glass.
“Stop it. You’ll hurt yourself.”
As if the man could talk, but that’s beside the point.
He wants food. There’s no feeder, so the man must feed him. It’s a good trade. The man talks to him, he listens, he gets fed. It doesn’t mean Gus 2.0 actually understands what is being said, but eh. Semantics.
“Yeah, Steven will definitely notice.”
Gus 2.0 bonks the glass again, and when his point doesn’t come across, he resigns to nibbling at the pebbles.
The man seems different.
Gus 2.0 feels like he’s being observed, and not in a fun way. Those narrowed eyes are not the same as the wonder kids have when watching him swim. It’s not even the passing interest of parents who search for easy-to-maintain pets.
If Gus 2.0 didn’t know any better, or if he could actually think outside where to wander in the next five seconds, he’d think the man was plotting his death.
And it’s scary that the man doesn’t move. He just sits there in front of the tank with a look too complicated for any fish to understand.
It’s around the five minute mark, not that Gus 2.0 is counting, when the man finally speaks. He even sounds different.
“Did you grow an extra fin?”
Gus 2.0 doesn’t know why he’s so obsessed with the fin. It’s like asking why an able human doesn’t not have one of their upper appendages. It’s not something you ask a fish.
“Do goldfish grow fins? Are you a lizard?”
He doesn’t know what lizards are.
“I come out for one day, and everything’s—” The man shakes his head. “First that cult village, now this.”
Village? He mentioned it before.
“What’s Steven feeding you?”
Steven again. And Gus 2.0 hasn’t been fed yet. He’d love to be fed.
“Or is it a Khonshu thing? Did he heal you? Is that part of Marc’s deal?”
What’s a khonshu? Is it edible?
The man uncrosses his arms and gets up with a sigh. “You know what, I don’t care. Magic’s bullshit anyway.”
Wait, where is he going? The man hasn’t fed him yet!
The man is different again.
Gus 2.0 decides he likes this different. This different feeds him. His voice is soft and nice to listen to. He can’t understand what he’s saying, but that doesn’t really matter. This different treats him well. And most importantly, he feeds him.
This different also gives him his name. Gus 2.0 is nice, but the “2.0” makes it not so nice. Regardless of that, he can’t complain. He doesn’t know why the “2.0” makes it not so nice. He is a goldfish, after all.
Still, there’s a sadness Gus 2.0 can’t place. The weight on the man’s shoulders gets heavier and heavier. It doesn’t matter which different he is, they’re all the same in that regard. They’re all lonely. Gus 2.0 can relate.
The man finally gets him a feeder and then is gone for a few days. When he comes back, there is a new fish friend.
Her name is Sheba, and Gus 2.0 likes her immediately. From there, his life changes drastically. Companions do that. They make things better, and it isn’t quite as empty in the spacious tank.
Something changes with the man, too. He seems more together, yet the differents remain. Perhaps he found his own companions. Still, he talks to Gus 2.0 and Sheba a lot.
“I’ve never had brothers before,” the man says around a spoonful of human food. “Well, I technically did, but not really. Anyway, I don’t know what to do. Marc and Jake are great, but we don’t always agree on things.”
Gus 2.0 steals a food particle from Sheba, and she gives him a perfectly disappointed look.
“For one, they resort to violence a lot. They’ve been trying to hold back now that we aren’t working for Khonshu… Well, we still are. Jake says otherwise. Says it doesn’t concern us, but we are literally sharing the same body.”
Sheba retorts by eating the other particles before Gus 2.0 can get to them.
“And there’s a lot of trauma, not enough therapy. I want to help, but neither want to talk about what happened. They’d rather drink or break someone’s bones instead.”
Gus 2.0 can’t be mad at Sheba, though, because the man drops some extra food into the tank and she lets him have it.
“It’s like they’re allergic to opening up. And yeah, I’m not an expert, but Google says it’s step two of coping with trauma.”
Sheba swims closer to the glass, and Gus 2.0 follows.
“Yeah, you’re right. I just have to be here for them and show them I care. Not everything’s going to be hunky-dory, but we’ll get through it together.”
The man puts his bowl in the sink and gives the two a warm smile. Gus 2.0 likes that smile.
“I wonder what goes on in those little heads of yours.”
Nothing, really. Gus 2.0 can’t actually think outside what goes on in his tank, but he can remember the man being sad when he first got him.
He remembers enough to put names to the differents. He knows who feeds him, cleans the tank, and gave him his friend. He knows who talks and who stares. He might not like them equally, but he still likes them. They all seem happier in their own way.
It’s not much, but life is good. Life is fun, it has differents. And companions help, just look at him and Sheba.
A shared tank is a happy tank.
But what would he know? He’s just a fish.
Edit: Added this cus of a comment
Khonshu is not edible
